#kuroo domestic

[suguruverse]

your personal space has never really truly been yours since you’ve started dating him. his muscled arm around your waist when you wake up in the morning, has become as familiar as the sunrise itself. it used to be cute, his warmth a cozy start to the day. but now, it's suffocating, like he can't bear to let you go, even in his sleep.

you shift carefully under his weight, not wanting to disturb his sleep. his breath keeping its steady rhythm against your neck, and you wonder if he dreams of you as you lean in to kiss his forehead gently. he smiles in his sleep, a small, contented expression that almost makes you want to slip right back into his arms.

the sheets rustle softly as you slip out from his grip. you slowly tiptoe across your shared bedroom, craving the simple pleasure of being able to enjoy making coffee alone. the smell of freshly ground beans fills the kitchen, and you lean against the counter, enjoying the quiet morning.

but as your coffee brews, a twinge of guilt creeps in and you can almost imagine when he'll wake up and wonder where you've gone. despite enjoying the well needed alone time, you knew the longing to be close to him will pull you back into his embrace sooner than you'd planned. almost as if in complete sync with your thoughts, you hear a mumble approaching the kitchen, and then his voice, thick with sleep, calling out softly,

"angel cmon back to bed with me, you know i don’t like sleeping without you"

ੈ✩‧₊˚ gojo, nanami, bakugou, iwaizumi hajime (27) althetic trainer, oikawa, kuroo, geto, choso, yuji, midoriya

[wttcsms]

saying let's get married;

domestic and sweet moments during the first year of newly-wed life (f!reader) <3

KUROO — "my wife" this and "my wife" that to the point where all his friends and coworkers are groaning and saying we get it, man! you're married now! his dorky nonfiction books taking up all the space on the nightstand. helping him tame his bed hair when he wakes up and is trying to get ready for work. created a powerpoint presentation where he told you he was going to give you the most epic promotion of a lifetime (the powerpoint was themed to mimic an HR presentation describing new employee benefits and perks, along with what the new position would consist of; the final slide asked "do you accept the position of being tetsurou kuroo's wife? limited time bonus offer includes a diamond ring!")

OSAMU — doesn't know how to fold your clothes properly (it's not weaponized incompetence, he just doesn't understand why your tops have these many strings and components to them). tries out all his new recipes with you as his taste-testing guinea pigs. during your wedding reception, atsumu asked you who was cuter: him or osamu. on your off days from your job, you go to onigiri miya and help him close down the shop. blowing bubbles at him from the soap that foams up when you're washing the dishes. him knowing where you're most ticklish and using it against you every time he asks you for a minor favor.

BOKUTO — asks you about kid names before he even pops the question. wants you to quiz him on your family tree because he so badly wants to impress them when he's meeting them (he then asks for a quiz on your extended family once the wedding date is scheduled). gets excited when he sees those corny tiktoks that claim "these initials are soulmates" and he sees yours and his initials paired together; he'll send you those tiktoks and go "babe, look!!! i told u we were meant to be!!" brings you up any time he can, whether it's in regular conversation with friends, small talk with a cashier, a meet n greet with a fan, or a post-game interview. loves to do push-ups with you on his back.

OIKAWA — makes a vision board at the beginning of the year, except the main image is a horribly photoshopped picture of your head pasted on some stock photo of a bride. he was showing you something on his phone, and the notification from his jeweler announcing that your engagement ring was ready for pick up popped up and he nearly dropped his phone while trying to hurriedly swipe away the notification whilst shielding his screen from you. gets all pouty and wants to be the little spoon; will also start asking you "baaaabe, would you still love me if i was a worm?" saw you in the stands booing his opposing team, and whistled, exclaiming "that's my girl!" panics when he sees strands of his hair on the bathroom floor; proceeds to ask you if you'll still be with him even if he becomes bald. then asks if you'll pay for his hair transplant (as a joke; you never use your card when you're with him).

[augustinewrites]

buys the ring months ahead of time, creates an elaborate proposal plan with the perfect venue, gets all your friends on it and practices what he's about to say...

only to fumble and propose to you the night before, when you're brushing your teeth side by side and playfully nudge his hip with yours

[irisintheafterglow]

you were glowing again.

you, you, beautiful you tucked under the sheets of his tiny twin bed in an even tinier university dorm. with barely enough room to fit both of you, the arm pinning you against him was simultaneously ensuring you didn't roll onto the carpet. the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, bathing his room in a comforting orange glow. and there you were, smiling at him like he'd placed every star in the sky.

"i don't understand how you could be so enchanting," he whispers, "but still know zero shit about chemistry."

"there's no correlation between those two things," you point out just as softly, a small smirk teasing at the corner of your mouth. "one can be enchanting and stupid at the same time." he shrugs but peeks down at you with one sleepy eye open.

"i guess so."

"maybe i'm enchantingly stupid," you joke and his chuckle rumbles against your body. "it's a possibility."

"no, no. i think you're stupidly enchanting," he corrects, pressing his lips to the top of your forehead. "don't fall asleep. you still need to finish that worksheet."

"fuck the worksheet," you mutter against the fabric of his shirt. you grip tighter to his body even when he makes no indication of pushing you off and it makes him smile again. "i like being here with you."

"i like being here with you, too."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[p2ii]

kiss 2.0

[touchlikethesun]

one of my fav krtsk tropes of all time is the unfortunate accidental mixing up of the jerseys. or like (now entering my fantasy lol) kei accidentally bringing kuroo’s nekoma shirt to change into for practice instead of one of his own tshirts, and burning up with embarrassment when the rest of karasuno notices, trying to stonewall his way thru everyone’s questions of “who do you know in nekoma,” “why would they give you their shirt,” and “when did you even get that we haven’t had a practice match in ages,” etc.

yamaguchi, who is the only person on the team that already knows about krtsk’s “secret” long distance relationship (it’s only secret on one side, all of nekoma and fukurodani already know - kenma’s been sworn to secrecy and forbidden from telling shouyou), is torn between trying to help tsukki avoid answering and giggling because he told tsukki that something like this was bound to happen. hinata asking with annoying sincerity if he beat up someone from nekoma, which finally prompts kei to snap “no, it’s from kuroo, he gave it to me!”

the rest of karasuno falls silent at his outburst, and regret is only just starting trickle down kei’s neck when sugawara gasps suddenly and says “oh my god, you’re dating kuroo from nekoma” which in turn causes everyone to look back to kei who looks like he’s trying to melt into the floor and there’s an shocked pause before the gym explodes again with congratulations from the second and third years (who honestly are just so relieved that tsukishima has found someone that can match his energy they were worried) and increasingly incredulous but earnest questioning from kageyama and hinata of “how??? how????” (they are also like, happy for tsukishima, but… how????)

yamaguchi texts kuroo at some point during the hullabaloo to tell him what happened and prepare him for tsukki’s inevitable mood on their nightly skype call.

[obamousse]

Kuroo loves eating creamy soups because it was the dish his mom used to make him all the time (she was an average cook, but her specialty is cooking creamy soups). At night, when Kuroo feels hungry, she would whip up a quick soup for him - that was why he used to eat it everyday - with croutons as he liked or some bread on the side. The family would eat their shared-based rice dinner separate from Kuroo, but he is welcomed to have a bite any other dishes he likes. He still likes soup, but he lives faraway from his mom. So everytime he comes home, his mom would cook up his bowl of soup with croutons and bread on the side as a form of nostalgia.

Kuroo doesn't have the time to cook all by himself because of work, so the only soup he eats is Miso soup - because it's healthy, and easy and quick to make and eat. He refuses to eat convenience-store food and instead prepare food by himself because he places importance on health, taste, and putting effort in his meals. He is a good cook, so within short time, he could whip up some simple yet delicious home-cooked dishes.

Kenma eats along with whatever Kuroo cooks, as he likes Kuroo's cooking a lot. After Kuroo gets home, he doesn't forget to buy Kenma apple pies or Kenma's other favorite foods (which are mainly dessert) so Kenma can eat it after dinner. Kuroo used to always have fruits after every meal, and he keeps his habit of having desserts to this day. Also, Kenma is only interested in desserts tho, so Kuroo wants Kenma to have an enjoyable time with his meals too.

He either eats out or cooks at home - no takeaway food. However, Kenma likes takeaway food very much because he doesn't have to cook nor go to a restaurant to eat - he doesn't really care about quality, food is food anyway. So Kuroo and Kenma sometimes have bickering over deciding what they should eat, because their eating habits are complimentary yet quite opposite.

Kuroo's favorite food is katsu curry and stir-frys he could eat with rice.

[ksketch731]

"Good morning moonshine~" a redraw of one of my first few digital art

2021-2023

lol when art block is real... just redraw

[meowsgirldrawing]

Ok but-

I don't know if this is because I have a huge thing for domestic aus or whatnot, but for some dang reason, the idea that Kenma wouldn't want children but fur babies instead just slays me In the good way ofc!!

Like- I love Future! Aus of shows like Haikyuu because of the amount of loving but so TRUE headcannons that can come with it. Especially cause ideas for next gen.

Example of Tsukishima being the father to a lovely little girl and being totally wrapped around her finger.

Or Tanaka and Nishinoya's kids growing up as best friends, even at one point calling each other cousins.

Or Kageyama having a little girl (There are so many guys in this show that make me JUST KNOW that they would have AT LEAST a daughter) who is the EXACT opposite of him. All cheery, hyper, very social, and everyone is like "Wait- Thats your daughter?!" But then when shes older, has the same smile when shes thinking of ways to destroy the other team.

Kageyama is my favorite btw-

JUST SO MANY IDEAS-

Then we turn around, and Kenma just has cats.

I can just imagine that this was probably something he like already decided, even before he meets whoever he ends up marrying later down the line.

And its not that he hates kids. While it may be a reason for some people, I can see Kenma as just like, Yeah, that aint for me.

And I can see that if his SO agrees with him, finding that to their liking too, they both end up like "Fur babies?" "Fur babies" *cue nodding Kenma but smiling cause yaay*

FBSKH

Self indulgent here but since the cats arent children, he can name them any video game character and not feel weird about it HAHAHA

He wants a cat named Link? HE GETS A CAT NAMED LINK

He wants a another one named Captain? HE GETS A CAT NAMED CAPTAIN

He wants-

Ya get the point. Cat names are limitless and hes a happy gamer/cat dad/ introvert hubby.

GAMER HUBBY KENMA FOLKS👏👏👏👏

Also, I find it just the best how most of the haikyuu fandom, whether hes shipped with Kuroo, YN, or an oc of any kind, most agree of this idea LOLOLOLOL

[simp-thingz]

“You won’t be able to walk when I’m done with you” Kuroo smirked from above as you lay panting for air on the ground “We’ve been at it for hours though” you groaned your whole body aching with fatigue 

“Stop being dramatic, we’ve only gone two rounds” the raven-haired man chuckled, sweat pouring off his body, and before the two of you could continue there was a knock on the door

“Mommy! Daddy! The Ipad is dead!” the voice of your guys’ four-year-old child called from the other side of your door

“We’ll be right there, just let us clean up!” you yelled back, sitting up “So how’s gonna clean the mats?” you asked your husband as he shrugged “I’ll do it, you go charge the iPad before Yumi starts biting the couch cushions again” you nodded concerned “yeah, guess we can finish yoga tomorrow” 

Yoga, you guys were doing very intense yoga.

[giggly-squiggily]

👀 oho? headcanons? unfortunately i'm not into the fandoms i've seen on your blog recently so uuh... matsukuro? pretty pleasie? no worries if not ofc, as always! hope you're having a lovely day! 💛

{HEADCANON REQUEST: CLOSED}

Oooh, yes please! I've gotcha, Rey! :D

-Mattsun has the patience of a saint and chill reactions to just about everything. Kuroo tries to push the boundaries of it on the daily with all his shenanigans. It's not that he's trying to stress his boyfriend out- but rather he wants him to cut loose and react to something. It rarely ever works and Kuroo works himself up in a tizzy that Mattsun easily brings him back down from. Sometimes Mattsun will give in with a "Oh that is IT!" just to make Kuroo feel good.

-Both can sing; Mattsun's the softer, more chill one; very good with acoustic guitar, while Kuroo's the bold and brash one- the guy who'll jump around on his bed and sing into a hairbrush to whatever songs playing. They have wildly different playlists that they merged at one point- every car ride is a mix between loud banging pop songs and softer more romantic ones.

-Kuroo's all talk and fluff until Mattsun pulls him into his arms- almost instantly he gets soft, flustered and near speechless as Mattsun watches him with that smug little grin. "Heh..hehe...hello there." Sometimes Mattsun will intentionally wait before kissing him just to build up that anticipation (plus it makes Kuroo extra blushy and whiney and he adores it)

-Mattsun can make like no other but is a terrible cook. Kuroo loves cooking but hates baking. They often spend their mornings in the kitchen- Mattsun making either homemade bread or cookies for later in the day while Kuroo's whipping up omurice and breakfast style curry- a radio's blasting in the background with a song Semi got popular for and they're just having bliss.

-Nighttime is the best time- especially when they're older. Mattsun works at a funeral company and Kuroo does Volleyball promotion; both jobs with incredible stresses and challenges from time to time. They get home and share a collective sigh before collapsing onto the bed, side by side in their respective day clothes. Kuroo's hand finds his and they just kinda breathe as they let the exhaustion of the day fade away one breathe at a time. Then Kuroo's bouncing up to order food and Mattsun's pulling up a movie; their day clothes get replaced with sweatpants (Kuroo steals Mattsun's sweatshirts, Mattsun's kinda obsessed with Kuroo's endless fuzzy sock collection) and they just kinda hang out together, cuddled up and talking about their day between movies and kisses.

Thanks for reading!

[peachsukii]

the day he met you, he had no idea how much you were going to infiltrate his life. you went behind enemy lines, storming towards his heart all without making a noise. the perfect stealth attack that left him questioning if he ever had any defenses to begin with.

SLOW MORNINGS — ༉‧₊˚.

ft. kuroo tetsuro !

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : after two years, you finally agreed to move in with kuroo and after your first night together, kuroo reflects on his perspective of love — and how much you’ve influenced it.

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : fluff, fluff, fluff ! — WC : 1k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : this was lost in the abyss on kuroosdarling but i rescued this cheesy lil piece. enjoy !! dividers by @/cafekitsune ᰔ

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᰔ*.ﾟ

love was something kuroo always found in fiction.

whether it would be from the stories his grandmother used to read to him as she tucked him into bed, her sweet voice filling his mind with a longing desire to one day have even a fraction of that love.

or in the books his father swore he didn’t own but yet somehow found themselves nestled in between the self help and business books that collected dust on his bookshelf. the tattered covers showing signs of wear and tear that could only come from a devoted reader.

but he never thought he’d make it here and experience a moment like this for himself. he never thought that this was something he’d ever even want at all. relationships had always been pushed back into the far corner of his heart, the fear from his parents ultimate brutal destruction overshadowed his desire for it.

so he never chased after love.

but then you chased after him. and he couldn’t help but welcome you in his arms. you were everything he never thought he needed. you brought peace and serenity into his life. kept him grounded, balanced but still somehow always knew how to push his buttons and keep him on his toes at the same time.

you were the perfect partner for him.

the day he met you, he had no idea how much you were going to infiltrate his life. you went behind enemy lines, storming towards his heart all without making a noise. the perfect stealth attack that left him questioning if he ever had any defenses to begin with.

but he supposed that all boiled down to a simple fact. he could act blind all he wanted, but his soul knew better, for it was the very thing that led you right into his heart, letting you steal it and make it yours.

he was just happy that it was finally in safe hands.

it all brought him crashing down to this moment — seeing your toothbrush innocently sitting next to his in the little ceramic glass by the bathroom sink. the little reminder that showed he shared his space with someone, actually letting them into every crevice of his heart. the thought had him getting a little emotional at 6 in the morning.

because he could easily look over to his right, through the opened bathroom door and see you still peacefully asleep in his bed — your shared bed. and it warmed his heart to no end.

as if you could sense his thoughts, you shift awake, watching him as he stared back at you.

“morning tetsu.” you whisper into the otherwise silent apartment. it took him a second to process the words as they spilled from your lips, watching as you slowly get up and stretch in a way that reminded him of a cat when they first rise from their slumber.

“morning sweetheart.” he smiles, his toothbrush haphazardly hanging out of the side of his mouth. you giggled at the sight, causing his grin to spread wider — wide enough for it to slip out of his mouth and into his hand. his reflexes from volleyball always came in handy when he needed it most. but he supposed he still looked like a fool in front of you — you just had that effect on him.

“you still asleep in there or something?” you ask, teasing him as you wander into the bathroom, wiping some toothpaste off his cheek before wrapping your arms around his bare waist.

“tell me, is it possible to get too much beauty sleep? because you’ve never looked more gorgeous.” he murmurs back, his large hand covering yours as he held your gaze in the mirror. he relished in the flustered expression you tried to hide as your face burrowed between his shoulder blades.

“so cheesy this early? my oh my, we’re off to a good start.” you giggle, your lips pressing against his bare back as the sound escapes you, sending chills all throughout him.

“you better believe it.” he smirks, happily leaning back into your touch. “how’d you sleep?”

“i slept great.” you poke your head out from behind him, smiling as you met his gaze in the mirror once again. it was hard for him not to immediately match your smile, the light in your eyes already brightening the dawn of the day. so he didn’t bother to fight it as his lips lifted upward. “our first night together in the apartment.”

“our apartment.” he quickly corrected, his palm patting your hand soothingly.

“our apartment.” you repeat. you pivot so you’re next to him, lightly bumping his hip with yours so he’d step to the side, giving you some room in the cramped space. you reach over and grab your toothbrush, the very one he was so caught up in only moments ago.

the quiet space now filled with life as you start your morning routine. he resumes brushing his teeth, watching each step you take.

how could something so mundane fill him with such joy?

your pretty eyes meet his in the mirror once again as you start brushing, slightly widening them in surprise under his watchful gaze.

and you were just so cute, sleep still clinging onto your sweet features as if you were internally fighting to stay awake. the two of you had plenty of sleepovers prior to you moving in, but this felt different.

this was the start of your lives together.

and it made him happy. so happy that he couldn’t help but chuckle, watching your face scrunch up at the strong minty toothpaste he used.

you couldn’t hold back your laughter either, lovingly looking at him through the mirror as your shared giggles fill the room.

if this was the first day to the rest of your lives together, he knew it would be filled with nothing but love. the kind of love he thought only existed in cliche movies and sappy poems. the kind in the bedtime stories his grandmother would read to him. the kind he found between the annotated pages of his father’s books.

but he found all of that within you, the love of his life.

thank you so much for reading :3

[tetskuro]

thinking about kuroo who wakes up early just to admire you before he goes to work...

contrary to popular belief, kuroo isn't a morning person, but the responsibilities that come with being a functioning adult in society force him to be one. to make matters worse, it's a monday, arguably the worst day of the week.

he wakes up feeling like he just got hit by a bus. the grogginess in his eyes and fatigue in his limbs are hard to shake off. his hair is also messy as ever—though it's slightly tamer than what it used to be during his high school days. what keeps him awake despite his desire to succumb to exhaustion is the image of you peacefully sleeping next to him. your even, deep breathing has kuroo relaxing into the mattress, and he observes you with such fondness that would've had your heart racing if you had been awake.

the corners of his mouth curve upwards as he gently traces the hills and slopes of your face with his fingertips. he thinks you always look beautiful, but the serene expression on your features right now causes a tingling sensation to resonate within his chest. there's a certain intimacy in the early hours of the morning as most of the world outside is still asleep; he's the only person who gets to see you like this.

against his better judgement, a part of his brain is telling him to take the day off and stay with you. but alas, kuroo makes the difficult decision of leaving the haven of your shared bed because japan's national volleyball team isn't going to promote itself. he carefully slides out from under the covers and quietly gets ready so as not to disturb you.

finally, he presses a light kiss to your cheek and silently chuckles at the way your nose scrunches involuntarily when his tie tickles your skin. as he walks out the door, he's already looking forward to the moment he gets off work to see you again.

and so kuroo gradually finds himself becoming a morning person, rising earlier and earlier at the start of each day. because mornings aren't so bad when he's waking up next to you.

for more works, check out my masterlist

© tetskuro 2024. please do not repost or modify my work.

[02shuuu]

i’m reading this after the haikyu movie ummm

okay so, this evening has not been fun for me, so ofc I’m gonna try coping via escapism 🤩

and as always you are absolutely NOT obligated to write it. I’m so serious, if you don’t want to there’s absolutely zero pressure emmy, I’d completely understand one hundred percent.

very long story short, I got my grades back for this semester and despite doing soooo much better overall this year than my first year and not failing a single class this time around, unless I get a miracle it’s looking like I’m going to have to be asked to withdraw from my university for a whole year ☹️

and as someone who got straight As from elementary til my last year of high school/made school my whole life, this is just an enormous blow to any self confidence I had finally built back up. I was doing better mentally and finally feeling a bit like myself again and I’ve just felt so sick with anxiety all evening because I don’t even know what to do anymore. If they decide to ask me to leave, it’ll make my chances of medical school even slimmer than they already were and I can’t help but feel like a bit of a failure and like I’ve just ruined my future despite knowing it’s not all true and I still have options :(

it’s so hyper specific and I’m so so so sorry abt that, but would it be possible for some comfort + tons of fluff with kuroo possibly? I just want to be babied a bit by this fictional man LOL. I feel like he’d know exactly what to do and how to get my mind off of it until I inevitably get that email :(

anon <3

My love, I am so sorry you’re having to go through this, and I am here, to PERSONALLY, tell you that you are far from a failure, and you should still be proud of yourself for getting so far. It’s okay to have bumps like this that halt your dreams, and it doesn’t make you any less deserving of continuing to chase those dreams. And hey! Use me as an example! I went from being a mechanic for four years and being fired for being so terrible (yes that is an actual thing that happened) then I went to college for writing; and now I’m a licensed esthetician with a focus in makeup artistry! There is no such thing as a dead end, no such thing as a closed room, just keep treating yourself gently and reminding yourself that this is far from over, your dream is still more than obtainable with some time and it is more than okay.

Ahem. Let me get off my soapbox PFFFF-

——-

Last night, you refreshed your emails who knows how many times, staring at your computer screen on the verge of hyperventilating for what felt like hours- and it might have been; your brain can’t process how long it was right now.

Your bottom lip was tight between your teeth, the hand on the mouse pad trembling, waiting in anticipation, tight with nerves. Your other rested a fist on your lap, waiting for the results and occasionally wiping a rogue tear that falls.

There’s a soft rapping on the door, but you don’t turn to face it. You merely keep refreshing.

“Hey,” tetsuro whispers, and you hear his feet padding into the room, and when he gets next to you, he crouches down. Once again, you can’t spare him a glance. “Any updates?”

You stay silent. He winces, “I’ll take that at a no…” he lays a warm hand on your back and gently rubs it in circles, “it’s okay baby. We’ll figure it out, we always do.”

“Tetsuro, please,” you whimper, not quite in the mood for a pep talk. “I’m going to puke right now, my life is in flames and crumbling around me, I’m so nervous, please. Save the pep talk, I can’t handle it right now.”

“I'm sorry,” he soothes. He doesn’t say anything further, just rubbing your back in slow, firm circles with his palm, blinking his golden eyes up at you warmly, lovingly.

You feel your body cramp from being under his loving touch, suddenly dawning on you just how long you've been sitting in the chair, inert and unwilling to peel your eyes from the email inbox. You suddenly become hyperaware of how your legs feel numb, your fingers are cramped and your eyes are burning. It's the first time in hours you've taken a break from your refreshing to scrub at your eyes, breeding a wetness to try and soothe the sting.

You hear Tetsuro sigh, "why... don't we go to bed, angel?"

"No."

"But-"

"I can't," you whimper. "Not now. Not yet-" your breathing picks up as you look at him in despair, chest fluttering and heart pounding as you try to breathe. He furrows his brows and shushes you softly, big hands moving to cradle your cheeks and force you to look at him.

"Baby," he says softly, but firm enough to ground you. "It's late. They're not going to send it this late at night. And if they do, we'll deal with it when we wake up tomorrow. But I'm almost certain they're not going to send it to you this late. I promise, okay?"

You let out a shaky sigh and look at the time: 22:43. It's far too late to be thinking, to be worrying, and you'd much rather breakdown in the comfort of your own bed, than alone in this wooden chair.

But you do know that, no matter what, Tetsuro is going to be right next to you, rubbing your back and cradling you close.

When you say nothing, Tetsuro slowly stands up and scoops you in his big, strong arms, "come on, angel face. Let's get some rest." You thunk your head against his chest and fist your fingers into the collar of his shirt, letting him carry you to the bathroom where he plops you down on the countertop.

He grabs your toothbrush and some toothpaste, and gently tells you to open, which you sleepily do. He's extra careful, making sure to get every tooth he can, scrubbing softly as to not make you uncomfortable. Silence, save for the bristles on the toothbrush, fills the room, the corner of Tetsuro's tongue sticking out in focus.

"Okay. Spit," he says, moving so you can comfortably turn your head and spit the froth out. Skincare comes next, and his touch is even softer as he massages in every product you use.

"Good girl," he whispers, picking you back up to carry you to bed. "My good girl. Good, brave girl..."

You drift off in his arms at his praise, not even feeling the way he gets you into pajamas or gets you under the covers, the exhaustion of the constant high of anxiety weighing you down.

Waking up this morning, your bones feel like bricks under the wall of your muscles, barely able to move under the force of it all. Your skin feels like paper, so hyper aware of it now that you’ve had the time to come down from your anxious state. You blink up at your ceiling, eyelids tight as you do, and you continue to stare and let your body wake up molecule by molecule, inch by inch. You feel it coming to life, and you slowly bring your hands up to press the heels of your palms into your eyesockets to force the rest of the sleep out of your eyes.

When your hand then drops next to you, you feel yourself grow saddened at the lack of warmth. Tetsuro’s been out of bed long enough to let his side cool down, and it makes you want to cry at the idea of being alone right now.

You never should’ve shut him down last night. All he wanted to do was help, and you shut him up and made him feel bad, now he’s not even in bed with you anymore, and you feel tears sting at your eyes again, this time out of anxiety of making him upset, and-

“Ah, you’re up.”

Your guilty, howling mind shuts up as soon as tetsuro’s body makes its way into the doorway, smiling and stirring his tea with a spoon. “Good morning, babygirl.” He takes a step into the bedroom and before you know it, he’s at your side, sitting on the bed next to you. He uses his free arm to wrap around you, but not pull you to his chest. “Did you sleep okay?”

“No,” you whimper, voice croaky. He nods and lets his thumb rub up and down the curve of your shoulder. “I’m sorry I yelled at you last night.”

His brow cocks in confusion, “huh?”

Now, finally, you turn to face him, “I snapped at you… I told you to-“

“You told me you didn’t want a pep talk,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “That’s okay. You’re allowed to tell me that my words might not be the most helpful. I’m not going to get mad at you for that. It’s not like you told me to shut my ugly ass up- you’d never do that, I’m too pretty.”

This, for the first time in what feels like days, has you crack a smile. You let out a small laugh, breathy and barely there, but he smiles proudly all the same, pulling you in for a hug now. “You’re a goof,” you murmur.

“And you, need to eat something,” he whispers against your head, and you deflate in his arms again. “Don’t you protest me, you know you have to eat something.”

“‘M not hungry,” you say.

“I know, but you didn’t eat last night, and I let you sleep in-“ at his words, your eyes flick to the clock on your nightstand, red numbers flicked onto 10:24. “You have to have something.”

“But-“

“I know,” he says. “Do you want something sweet, or savory?”

20 questions. It’s something he does after a fit of your anxiety to try and make your life just a hair easier, decisions quicker, and your day just a bit brighter because you’re getting exactly what you want. He claims he used to do it with kenma, hence why he’s so good at it.

“Uhm…” you shrug, “why not both?”

“Both?” He echos. “Okay. Do you want fruit?” You nod. He nods with you. “Okay. How about a bagel?” You nod again. “Okay. With some cream cheese?” You shake your head and he clicks his tongue, “butter?” You shake your head again, “okay. Uhmmmm-“

“I want to do it,” you mumble, and he presses a kiss to your head.

“You sure? Because I can whip something up-“

“I have to do it. I have to put the toppings on my bagel.”

He nods a final time and squeezes you close, “okay. If you need any help deciding, I’m right here, okay? I’ll be cutting your fruit.”

You hum and slowly swing your legs out of the bed, stretching and mewling from the force. When your hand instinctively darts for your phone, he clicks his tongue, "leave it. You don't need it right now."

"But-"

"I told your family to text me if they need you. Your phone is on do not disturb. Leave it there, babe." He swings his own long legs over and extends a hand out to you, wiggling his fingers enticingly for you to hold. When you grab three of them, he smiles and slowly leads you into the kitchen.

The news is playing on tv at a low volume, there’s a discarded blanket on the couch, and you quirk a brow in intrigue, “tetsu, how did you know I was awake?”

He shrugs, “my life shifts when you wake up for the day. I feel it in my soul.”

“Ew.”

“Shaddup.”

You laugh again, smiling a weak smile as you plop down at the table. He makes his way to begin cooking your bagel, popping it in the toaster before making his way to cut up your fruit. You sigh and play with your fingers, wondering if you should make conversation, or let silence rule, and you sigh shakily before opening your mouth to speak. “What’re you going to have?”

“I, my love, already ate some toast with some apple jelly and butter.”

“Oh.”

“But I’m going to pick at some fruit with you, because I don’t want you eating alone.”

“You don’t have to do that-“

“I know,” he hums. Then, he turns to face you with a smile. “I want to.”

Your heart flutters as you smile at him, looking down at your fingers to distract yourself. Usually, you’d be scrolling through your social media, checking apps and emails, but since he forbade it, you’re left to listen to him sing softly and the newscaster drone on and on. After a few short minutes, your bagel pops, and he plates it with some sliced fruit and places it in front of you, before kissing your head and grabbing various toppings for it.

Breakfast drags, but in a comforting way, where it drips by so slow like honey, syrupy sweet as Tetsuro talks. He talks about everything and anything, about the game Kenma's going to stream for charity, and the funny meme he sent the streamer- or funny to Tetsuro at least, as allegedly Kenma left him on read. You find yourself eating at his company, and before you know it, your bagel, juice, and fruit is gone. You look down at your plate in surprise, and he wiggles his brows at you, "feel better, angel?"

"Uhm... yeah," you say, almost confused. "I didn't think I was that hungry."

"I don't care how you thought, I'm glad you ate." He stands out of his chair with a stretch, "you still hungry? I can make you another-"

"No," you sigh. "I... I really should check my email-"

"Not until I give you a bath and a massage."

You quirk your brow, "you're going to give me a bath and a massage?"

"Of course," he chuckles, "If you're too anxious to give yourself some self care, that's plenty fine, but that means I'm going to give you self care." He shrugs, "those are just the rules."

"Do you even know how to give a massage?"

"Bokuto and I used to massage each other after practice all the time." Your brow quirks higher, and he holds his hand up, "don't ask. Just trust me."

"Can Bokuto give me a massage?" You tease, giggling at the way he gives you a fake smile and a high pitched "no," to tease you.

He presses a kiss to your head, "I'm going to go run the bath, why don't you get changed and meet me in there?"

"Okay," you hum. He nudges your nose with a finger before stalking down the hall to the bathroom. When your hear the tub running, you make a dash towards the small office room for your laptop, nervous to check your email, and-

"I took it out!" He calls, followed by a cackle.

"You're an ass!"

"It's your favorite ass, though!"

You grumble and make your way to the bedroom to get undressed per his request, stealing one of his oversized shirt to conceal yourself until the tub is filled. You stalk into the bathroom and blush under the way his eyes glaze up and down you, "fuck, I love you in my clothes."

"Back off, I'm about to bathe," you snort.

"Yeah, but I can still find you hot." As the tub fills, he adds a scoop of epsom salt, and a splash of bathing bubbles, large bubbles brewing on the surface of the water. You smile and watch them shape and form, the sweet smell filling the air around you. You feel excitement brewing inside of you as you watch him turn off the water and push himself up and off the floor with the edge of the tub, "should do it, baby. I'm gonna let you soak, I'll set up for a little massage after, make you nice and comfortable.

"Okay," you mewl. He presses a kiss to your lips and makes his way to the door. "Hey, Tetsu?" You say, reaching for his hand, which he takes happily. "Thank you."

"Anything for you, babygirl," he whispers. "You know that." He pinches your cheek and leaves the bathroom for you to relax.

The bath water is warm as you soak in the epsom salt, feeling your muscles loosen and relish in the combination. You bury your face in the bubbles and close your sleepy eyes, letting the smells lull you into a state of relaxation. Your head is still heavy with anxiety, but your heart is full of love and warmth for your boyfriend.

You're not sure how long you were floating in silence, lost in the bubbles and oils, but he gently knocks on the door, "you okay? Haven't heard you for a bit."

"Yes," you mewl, stretching. The water is now chilly and the bubbles are mostly gone and you rub your hands over the surface of the water. "Is the massage stuff ready?" You tease, looking at your hands and wincing at how pruny they are.

"It's been ready, I didn't want to bother you," he snickers. “Come out when you’re ready, just wanted to make sure you were alive.”

“I’m alive, I’m coming,” you call, getting out of the tub to dry yourself. You take your time drying off, trying to enjoy the last little bit of warmth clinging to your skin. You leave the bathroom to get dressed into some clean pajamas, smiling as tetsuro busies himself with the whole massage set up. “Candles? You spoil me.”

“There’s a lot of smells going on,” he says with a face.

“I know I can tell,” you hum. Getting dressed, you slip on a pair of his boxers and a shirt, and you make your way to the bed to wait for him.

“Alright-“ he pats the bed for you to crawl on top of. “C’mere, let me pamper you.”

You giggle, “you have been pampering me!” Regardless, you swing your legs onto the bed and lay on your stomach, squeaking as he straddles you and cracks his knuckles.

He lays a massive paw on each of your shoulders, using his thumb to splay and press the muscle under his force, and your eyes cross in the middle and flutter in relaxation. They work in circles to press into the muscles, before laying flat on your back to dig his heel into before his fingers press and roll back up to your shoulders.

Thick fingers roll over the knot in your right shoulder, no doubt from the refreshing of the page for hours on end last night. You whine and bury your face in the bed, and he hums, "I know beautiful, I almost got it."

"Feels good," you murmur.

"Told you it would," he says softly. “You need to trust me.”

“I think I trust you too much,” you snicker. Tetsuro says nothing, merely offering you a laugh through his nose as he continues with the massage.

Your body twitches as the tips of his fingers dig into your side as part of the massage, but your snicker doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend. “Something wrong?” He hums, doing it again.

"Tetsu!" You giggle, reaching behind you to try and stop his wrists, "that tickles!"

"That's crazy, I'm not tickling you," he snickers, and it's hard to tell if he's lying or not. "I mean, I can tickle you, if you want-"

"No!" You squeal, and your laughter turns choppy as he uses the sides of his hands to playfully chop up and down your back, making your body instinctively let out bumpy noises from your mouth.

“Quite an attitude on ya today,” he taunts, before hooking his fingers up under your arms, making you shriek, “okay, now I’m tickling you.”

Your mind spins from the sensory change, the signals in your brain cross, but one thing is for certain:

The email is far from the front of your mind.

And it feels good to laugh.

[whisperofwonder]

Comfortable

Uncomfortable domestic moments when you realize just how comfortable you are together, and how much he really cares about you

I just really love domesticity, okay? Even when it isn't pretty.

Featuring: Kuroo Tetsurou, Ushijima Wakatoshi, Miya Atsumu x reader

(a few potential triggers here, sorry!) TW: vomit / vomiting in Kuroo's ; blood/period in Ushijima's, then you'll have Atsumu's which is really just light and kind of goofy oops

KUROO TETSUROU

"Ugh," You moan as you reach to flush the toilet. You get to your feet and turn to find Tetsurou still hovering behind you. You grimace thinking about how he'd held your hair back just moments ago, as you released the entire contents of your stomach into the toilet bowl.

He hands you a cup of water. "How are you feeling?" He asks as you rinse out your mouth - it's a silly question, all things considered, but you don't exactly have a snarky answer at hand.

"I'm sorry," You blurt instead, not quite sure how he can be looking at you with that almost tender expression on his face after witnessing that.

"Why are you apologizing?" He asks softly, reaching to unstick a sweaty strand of hair from your face.

"Because, it's so gross. You didn't have to come in here," You insist. "I'm an adult, and - you really shouldn't have to see that." You purposefully avoid glancing in the mirror. You don't even want to know what you must look like right now.

"But I don't want you to feel gross alone," He says as if it's simple. You open your mouth, searching for some kind of retort, but nothing comes. "I know you can take care of yourself, but you shouldn't have to," He continues. "Not when I'm right here."

It's so surprisingly sweet that you feel your face start to crumple. "Tetsu," You squeak out.

"Shh," He shushes you, "Just tell me what I can do. Do you need anything?"

"I just want to go back to bed," You admit, reaching out to grab the edge of the sink as you feel yourself begin to waver.

"Okay then," He says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before he scoops you up in his arms, slowly carrying you back to the bedroom and setting you gently on top of your pillows. "Try to get some rest," He murmurs, pulling the blankets up over you. "I love you," He adds, brushing the hair away from your face.

"I love you too," You murmur back, leaning into his touch and the comfort of the knowledge that he'll always be right here.

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI

Your alarm feels even earlier than usual, and after confirming that it is indeed time to get up, you turn it off with a groan. You're feeling particularly at odds with the world already today, and part of you just wants to pull the covers over your head and go back to sleep. Instead, you slither out of bed, standing next to it as you check the e-mail notification that had popped up overnight.

"Oh," At the sound of his voice, you turn to look at Wakatoshi. He's sitting on the edge of the bed, and he's looking at you with a slight frown on his face. "My love..." He gestures down at your side of the bed, and to your horror, you see a streak of red on the otherwise pristine sheets.

Suddenly, the way you're feeling is making a lot more sense. "Oh no," You drop your face in your hands, muffling your words. "That's absolutely disgusting. I'm so sorry." You don't even want to look at him, but at the sound of rustling sheets, you finally drop your hands. Your boyfriend is methodically stripping the bed.

"Why don't you get in the shower? I'll start washing these." He says matter-of-factly. There must be something in your expression, because you see his face soften. "It's alright. It's natural," He assures you.

"But-" You can't put into words how mortified you are. Natural or not, he shouldn't have to see it, much less clean it up. "At least let me do that," You insist finally, reaching for the pile of bedding.

"No," He twists away so that it's out of your reach, "I've got it. Just get in the shower, okay?"

"You shouldn't have to, though," You say more softly.

"I don't have to," He agrees. "I want to help you. Can I do that?"

You bite your lower lip, trying not to let your hormonally-charged emotions win this battle. "Okay," You say finally.

"Okay," He echoes you, dropping the sheets into the laundry basket before crossing the room back to you, gently taking your face in his hands and pressing a kiss to your lips. "I'll make you some tea to have with breakfast," He adds after he pulls away. "Will that help?"

"Yes," You whisper, the I-love-you hidden in his words practically echoing in your head. You can't resist pulling him back in for one more kiss, hoping he feels the I-love-you-too that you press into it.

MIYA ATSUMU

"Atsumu!" You knock on the bathroom door, "Are you soon done?" It's moments like these when you really regret that this apartment has only one bathroom.

"Just got in!" He shouts back above the sound of the running shower. You bite back a sigh. He's famous for his long, hot showers.

"I really have to go!" You call back. "Can't you make it quick?" You're on the verge of pacing back down the hallway, just to help you hold it in.

"The door isn't locked! Can't ya just come in and go?" You freeze. It might be silly, but it's an unspoken milestone that you haven't crossed yet - peeing in front of each other.

"But!" You groan.

"But what? Ya've seen me naked before," You can practically hear his smirk.

"Tsumu," You whine, but in a matter of moments, you open the door anyway. It's gotten to the point where you don't have much choice. With only a moment's hesitation, you put up the toilet lid.

"How was yer day?" Atsumu begins conversationally.

"We're not doing this," You say quickly. "I'm going, and then I'm leaving the bathroom."

You hear him sigh. "Want me to get out and pee too, so we're even?" He asks, completely serious.

"No!" You say quickly. "I'm leaving now." Before he can say anything else, you're closing the door behind you.

About 10 minutes later, Atsumu finds you in the kitchen, towel wrapped around his waist as drips of water slip from his hair. "Guess we're a real couple now," He grins, leaning in and pressing a damp kiss to your lips.

"We weren't before?" You ask, quirking an eyebrow.

"'Parently not. Didn't know it was such a big deal," He says with a smug grin. "How will I ever look at you the same again?"

"Hey!" You swat his bare shoulder indignantly. "It was your idea." You remind him.

"Guess so," He hums. "Know what? I think I still love ya just as much." His smile is softer somehow, despite the teasing glint in his eyes.

"Oh?" You ask, struggling to maintain your haughty expression.

"Yeah," He nods. "Looks like you're stuck with me." He leans in for a longer kiss, almost making you forget about the small puddle that's begun to form on the floor.

[revasserium]

to win and to lose

kenma, tsukki, hinata, kageyama; 3,200 words; fluff, lapslock, no "y/n", kissing, slightly!suggestive content, but mostly just tooth-rotting fluff, domestic bliss, post!timeskip characters, pro-streamer!kenma, olympics athlete!hinata, pouty!tsukki, and needy!kageyama

summary: you win some, you lose some, right?

a/n: truly just a few drabbles that came to my mind when i was sitting in a bath the other day; so pls enjoy some hq-flavored domesticity

kenma

“— alright chat, that’s it for today — i’ve got uh —” kenma glances over at the top of his collection of monitors at where you’re standing, holding two beers, a sly grin twisting the corner of your mouth. even in the strange blue light of his monitors, you can see his cheeks darken.

“— some stuff to do. see ya!” he ends the stream just as you round the massive table to set a beer down in front of him. he chuckles and reaches out to pull you into his lap, hooking his chin over your shoulder with a sigh.

“hey there, mr. ceo.” you smirk, twisting round to run your fingers through his hair, tugging out the loosening hair tie and cocking your head. kenma huffs, crinkling his nose, shaking his head as you continue to comb through his hair with your fingers.

“i hate it when you call me that.”

“mm, then… what would you prefer? mr… streamer boy? mr. stock trader? oh — i’ve got it! mr. simp-man.”

kenma scoffs, jerking forward so that you’re trapped against the hard edge of his gaming desk, his arms locking you to him. he’s grown since high school, but even so, his lithe build betrays the strength still hidden within his limbs from the endless hours of training, of playing.

“there’s no winning against you, is there?” he asks, his voice muffled by your skin, and you bite back a groan at the way he’s trailing his lips along the hard ridge of your collarbones. he peers up at you, a sharp, feline glint to his eyes, a hand reaching out to set your half-drunk beer on his table before hoisting you up with one arm. you squeak, the gesture taking you by surprise even as he carries you to the futon set up in strategically in the corner of the game room, put there for the nights when you’d lie there and watch him stream, when you’d close your eyes and let the rgb lights flicker across the backs of your eyelids like the northern lights, like so many midnight rainbows.

“well… seeing as you’re winning in so many other aspects in life,” you say, your voice nothing more than a sigh as he lays you down, fingers already tugging at the thin straps of your dress, “a little losing here and there might do you good, hm?”

“mm…” kenma hums, contemplative, even as he leans back and runs an appraising eye down the length of your body, “i mean… i did let kuroo talk me into joining the volleyball club back in highschool so… i guess you can say… in my own way… i’m sort of a sucker for punishment.”

tsukki.

“ah… that looked like a brutal practice,” you say, peering around the bathroom door. the sound of water splattering down skin echoes wetly through the enclosed space.

“aren’t they all?” tsukishima drawls, setting down the large wooden bath ladle to squint at you through the hazy mist. his glasses lie fogged and forgotten, set to the side.

you smile, slipping into the room with a fresh towel.

“i’ve got miso soup being warmed on the stove and an icepack in the freezer. take your time though — o-oh!”

a pair of arms reaches out to pull you down, and you barely catch yourself on the edge of the large wooden bath.

“t-tsukki! what —”

“it was a brutal practice.”

you barely hear the smirk in his voice as he sighs and props his chin on your thigh, the water from the bath staining you thin dress in seconds. you fight the urge the roll your eyes, reaching down to run your fingers through his damp hair, absently massaging at his scalp.

its rare to see him like this — rarer, even, to see him so openly vulnerable, even if there’s still the barest hint of a tease lurking beneath the tired rhythm of his voice, his breathing. like this, his long lashes are daggered into points by the steam, his normally pale skin made even more so by the bright bathroom lights.

through the water, you can see the new bruises blossoming along his thin legs, the old ones barely fading. thoughtlessly, you lean in and dip your hand in the water to trace a finger along one particularly large one at his right knee.

“what happened?” you ask, though you basically already know the answer — practice for a v2 league team happened. still, tsukishima glances down at the bruise with an oddly disembodied gaze and shrugs.

“dunno. dove to save a ball a few times.”

you laugh, tilting your head to one side as he leans back to press his cheek to your now damp thigh.

“wow, in practice? other team must’ve really pissed you off.”

at this, tsukishima crinkles his nose and scoffs. you hike an expectant eyebrow and wait.

“the jackals were over for a practice match.” his voice is clipped, but you feel your own laughter bubbling up in seconds. of course.

you bite back a giggle, “and… did you guys win?”

he glares up at you, eyes narrowed, “they’re a division one team. what do you think?”

“hm… but i thought hinata’s been off with a rolled ankle so…”

again, he scoffs, “that team’s plenty of other players who are just as annoying.”

you clamp down on your bottom lip, “wow. high praise.”

he whacks at the surface of the bath, splattering your dress even as you break into a bright peal of laughter. you reach down to flick him with a bit of water as well but he catches you wrist in his, fingers wrapping around your arm, the warm bath water slicking down your skin in thin rivulets, dripping off your elbow. you gasp, heart suddenly thrumming behind your eardrums.

the lopsided, slightly sadistic smile that slits his lips is stomach-twistingly familiar.

“tsukki… there’s miso soup —”

“mm. think i want something else for dinner instead.”

the low murmur of words is the only warning you get before you’re pulled bodily into the warm bath, the water soaking your dress, making the material cling to your skin in seconds. you squeak against his lips, rough and insistent and just a little pleading. you know it’s futile to struggle, so you let him kiss you, his teeth digging into your bottom lip as you groan, your fingers finally finding purchase along the slick skin of his shoulder.

“you — you’ve ruined my — my favorite dress…”

“hn.”

tsukishima doesn’t look at all bothered by your admonishment, shrugging, “it’ll dry.”

water sloshes over the side of the bathtub, now dangerously full with the both of you soaking in it’s steaming depths.

“was it really that bad?” you ask, affecting your voice into a soft coo, trailing wet fingers over the soft of his cheeks.

“if i say yes,” he asks, peering down at you as a lepidopterist might study a new specimen of rare, and newly captured butterfly, “would you try to make me feel better?”

you lick your lips, feeling your mouth go dry, despite being literally submerged in water.

“depends,” you say, “on if you’ll let me go turn off the stove first — wouldn’t want the miso soup to burn.”

tsukishima rolls his eyes, fingers tightening around your wrists, pulling you closer. there’s a dangerous light flickering behind his eyes; a dull ache pulses at the base of your stomach, singeing up your spine as you tip forward for another long kiss.

“thought i said already… i don’t think i really want miso soup for dinner anymore.”

hinata.

there’s a certain magic in watching him play — the way he treats every win like his first, or his last. the way the world seems brighter right around his edges, as if his own shimmer and shine might infect the universe if it would only let him.

he is incandescent with joy after the olympic qualifier games — scoring a ticket is no mean feat, and it’s not every day that you see bokuto cry.

“congrats, shouyou!” you’re one of the first to greet him after the press stint (and a shower), but you can still see the brilliant, glazed look to his eyes that tells you he’s still riding his high. his smile is wide enough to split the sky as he spots you, jogging over to hoist you up into his arms, spinning you round with almost comical ease.

“haha — thanks!”

he leans up for a kiss, one that’s sweet as it is heady. when you pull apart, you are still weightless, and his smile shines like a smile on pause — it makes you want to unpause it, and watch it unfurl.

you trace the pads of your thumbs along the tiny freckles dotting his cheekbones — souvenirs from his time in brazil.

“so! are you gonna come watch us?” he asks, making to walk down the decidedly not deserted hallway with you still in his arms. you blush at the thought, giving his shoulders a slight squeeze.

“shouyou… you can put me down now — and of course i’ll come! it’s not everyday that your boyfriend makes it to the olympics.”

several people chuckle as they watch him parade passed, you still firmly held aloft, your elbows propped on his shoulders to give you some semblance of balance. your cheeks burn as hinata hums, waving at a fellow teammate, reaching out for a fist bump.

“shou…” you fight the urge to bury your face in his shoulder as he finally rounds a corner into a much more private hallway. he grins, completely unabashed, as he pushes through an unmarked door to a what seems to be an empty locker room. it’s sparse, but well-lit and quiet.

“hm?”

he sets you down on one of the benches and drops a quick kiss onto your shoulder.

“i could’ve walked…”

“didn’t feel like putting you down,” he says, his voice dropping in register and taking on that darker, baser veneer — you hear the frayed edges, the sandstone texture, a tell-tale sign of a deep-seated hunger. a very specific brand of shouyou-flavored want.

“n-ngh —” you make a soft noise as he dips down to nuzzle into the dip of your collarbone, a tiny groan festering up the back of his throat as he sighs.

“been thinking about this…” his fingers dance up your sides, light enough to tease, but solid enough to remind you of just how close you both are to a ruthless press and the oogling public.

“sh-shou let’s wait —”

hinata whines, shaking his head, his hair tickling at the skin of your neck, “don’t wanna.”

and you sigh, weighing the option of pushing back or giving in. each has dangers and merits, but you know better than most that when hinata gets like this, indulgence is usually the only answer that will satisfy.

“plus… i just won a ticket to the olympics! don’t you think that deserves some kind of —” he casts around for a good enough word, pulling back with a smile that, in the right kind of slanted, locker room light, might just look like a smirk, “reward?”

you cock your head and blink up at him, letting your fingers tangle in the tufts of hair at the nape of his neck, “what? the olympics ticket wasn’t enough of a reward for you?”

at this, hinata pouts, pushing his bottom lip out far enough for you to lean forward and bite it. the movement makes him groan, his whole body tipping forward to cage you back against the row of cool, metal lockers.

“you shouldn’t do that if you don’t think you can finish the job,” he says, pulling back just far enough for the heat of his breath to fan across your spit-slick lips. you lave your tongue across them, shifting beneath him as he cocks his head to stare down at you, his eyes wide and dark and misty.

“and… what job might that be?” you ask, breathless even as he dips down again to catch your lips in his, reaching down to tug you bodily up the length of the lockers before pinning you in place. once upon a time, it was easy to forget how strong he is — but now, it’s even easier to spot the stretch and flex of muscle beneath his sun-kissed skin, feel the strength of them as he holds you still with a single hand, the other tugging down the neckline of your top.

“mm… the job —” he skims his teeth across your skin; you gasp, eliciting a small, satisfied chuckle from him, “of being an olympic athlete’s girlfriend, of course!”

kageyama.

it is never the losing, and always the aftermath, and by now, you know the shades and slivers of all his specific kinds of silences so intimately that you know without him having to say how the practice match had gone.

“hey.”

you greet him by the door with a soft, placatory kiss. he grunts, toeing off his shoes before dipping down to wrap both his arms around you and pull you close. you let out a breathy laugh as you feel his nose digging into the curve of your shoulder.

“want some dinner?” you ask, reaching up to stroke his sweat-soaked hair even though you already know the answer.

“later,” he says, making no sign of wanting to let you go. instead, when you try to pull away, he leans down and scoops you up to place you on top of the kitchen island, slotting himself between your knees, and re-burying his face in your shoulder.

“then…” you let your voice trail off, feeling the exhaustion pour off him in waves. you dig your fingers into the tense line of his shoulders and feel them tighten up before they fall slack again. for a few minutes, he contents himself with letting you massage the worst of the knots from his shoulders.

“hn.” he lifts his head only to lean forward and find your lips with his. the kiss is slow and just a bit tired — as sweet as it is thorough. in the beginning, you’d worried that dating someone like kageyama would end up being the kind of short-lived thing that all the tabloids and magazines had warned you about — that he might grow bored after a week, a month, maybe half a year. after all, someone like him, with that insatiable need for more wouldn’t be suited for the kind of so-called ‘domestic bliss’ as it’s prescribed of most long-term relationships. but he’d surprised you, in more ways than one. he’d not only not grown bored, but had seemingly become ever more… entranced.

the pair of you had grown into each other, each day steadily getting closer. until the space the two of you shared became so inextricably linked there’s no telling who’s breath was caught in each of your lungs, of who’s scent it was that lingered in the fine linen lining of all your pillows and sheets. it’s become your’s. in the most cliche way possible.

kageyama contents himself with kissing you, breaking for small breath, and then kissing you some more. one kiss falling into another, and another, and another. till you’re breathless in just way he likes, till he’s breathless, in the way that he gets sometimes during a particularly intense rally. he knows he’s sweat-sticky and probably stinks of the gym, but the way you smile up at him when he pulls away makes his whole body go soft.

“let’s take a shower before dinner,” you say, tracing a finger along the shell of his ear. he bites back a frown.

“not a bath?”

you laugh, shrugging, “we could — but the food’ll go cold.”

“we’ve got a microwave.”

you smile, a smile that inspires — no, demands — another kiss. and so he does. you make a tiny, exasperated noise but don’t make to pull away. kageyama reaches down to pick you up, settling your thighs on either side of his hips as he maneuvers the pair of you towards the bathroom.

“food’ll be there when we’re done,” he mutters, gently placing you down on the side of the bathtub and reaching over to turn on the hot water. the steam rises in thick sheets from the surface of the water, and already, kageyama can feel his limbs loosening at the thought of a nice, long soak. he catches you watching as he strips off his practice clothes.

“see something interesting?” his voice is so measured you’d never know he’s teasing, save for the tiniest hint of mischief in his eyes. you blush and look away, tugging off your own clothes in an attempt to distract yourself. the water sloshes around his ankles as he steps into the bath, and you join him a second later, curling up against his chest as he winds his arms around you, the pair of you settling against each other like nesting spoons, cut perfectly for each other’s every bend and curve. or perhaps like russian dolls, one encasing the other — wholly and completely.

“when’s practice tomorrow?” you ask, turning to watch him lean back, his eyes falling shut to the soft trickle of water over skin. you know the answer, and so does he. but he shifts and answers you anyway.

“not till noon.”

“good,” you say, turning back to rest your head on his shoulder, “we can have a proper breakfast.”

“we always have a proper breakfast.”

you laugh, absently walking your fingers up the length of his bent leg, drawing tiny circles on his exposed knee, poking out of the water like a pale island amidst the green-tinted water.

“i can grill mackerel tomorrow — i’ll have the time.”

outside, the moon is white and full with love, the sky bloated with countless shimmering stars. inside the gentle quiet of your home, kageyama leans forward to trail a kiss to the bend of your bare shoulder; you reach back to cup his cheek. when he turns your face for yet another kiss, it is sleepy and happy, long and lazy. full, weighted, soaked through with the kind of surrender only known to those who love and are in love.

“the food’ll really be cold —” you gasp, twisting away from kageyama’s growingly insistent lips, “if we keep going like this.”

he makes a slightly irked noise before caging you back against him with a deep frown, “you said so yourself — we’ve got time tomorrow. so —” he leans in to bump his nose against yours, waiting for permission. you chew on your lips for a second longer before conceding. and he’s right — isn’t that what microwaves are for?