#kuroo x reader

[whisperofwonder]

Oh, Baby

Haikyuu men x pregnant!reader

Featuring: Miya Osamu, Kuroo Tetsurou, Kageyama Tobio, Sakusa Kiyoomi (~ 400 - 500 words each)

Most likely to be followed up at some point by scenes after baby is born because I have absolutely no chill

MIYA OSAMU

You pick at your dinner, trying your best to eat enough to satisfy Osamu. It's not that you aren't hungry, really. It's more that what you're hungry for isn't this. Osamu already worked hard to make it, though, so you'll make yourself content.

"What's wrong?" Osamu isn't fooled. He points at your plate with his chopsticks. "Isn't it good? I knew I shouldn't a' switched out the spices."

"No, it's good!" You insist quickly. "Really. I just - you're gonna think it's silly." You warn.

"Try me," He says, sitting back in his chair and watching you expectantly. You have no choice.

"I'm just really craving something in particular. Something different," You try to mask your disdain as you gesture at your plate. "I want onigiri."

"Really?" A smile breaks across his face. "Little guy wants onigiri, huh? Well that's not so bad. I can whip something up-" He's already out of his chair and poised to root in the fridge. "Whaddya want? We got tuna, umeboshi, or maybe..." He pauses to shuffle things around in the fridge in search of more ingredients.

"No," You interrupt before he can get too far, bracing yourself for what the baby is making you say next, "Actually, I was kind of thinking, well, peanut butter?" He goes still, head stuck in the fridge. "And, jelly?" You add more quietly. Slowly, he backs up and pivots, fixing you with a penetrating look.

"Sorry. It was all muffled in there. What sorta filling did ya want?" You repeat yourself, and watch as the smallest part of your husband dies. He blinks once, twice, then nods very slowly. "Okay," He says, quietly, almost as if he's steeling himself. "Okay." He repeats.

Hands resting on your growing middle, you watch as he methodically prepares the onigiri, with the exact fillings you'd requested. He hesitates with his spoon in the peanut butter, but he does what you asked. "Are ya sure this is my child?" He asks despairingly as he presents you with three perfectly formed onigiri.

"Positive," You assure him with a small chuckle. You can't help it - you're itching to dig into these onigiri, so you do. Is it an absurd combination? Yes. But does it satisfy the craving you'd been trying to ignore all day? Absolutely. You can't disguise your delight as you eat, humming happily as you savor the food your husband had so lovingly prepared for you, despite the desecration.

When you look up, you're surprised to find him smiling at you, head propped on his fist as he watches you eat.

"What're you grinning about?" You ask teasingly.

"Can't help it," He grumbles, "I'm just happy you're enjoyin' the food, even if it is an abomination. I love you." He gives your cheek a gentle pinch, then your stomach a loving pat.

"I love you too, Samu. We both do." You pause. "Want a bite?" You ask, holding the last onigiri out to him.

"Absolutely not."

KUROO TETSUROU

You're in bed, and it's barely 8:00. You never expected your normal day-to-day routine to tire you out this much, but then again you've never been 7 months pregnant before, either.

"Aw, come on," Tetsurou is cooing at your stomach, stroking it gently. "Just a little tiny kick? Mama gets to feel you move all the time." He's curled up with his face inches from your stomach, a dopey smile on on his face as he chatters to the baby as has become his nightly routine. You reach down to run a hand through his unruly hair.

"If you want someone to kick you in the bladder, that can probably be arranged," You say drily, snorting out a laugh when he looks up at you with a pout.

"I just want to feel her move," He sighs, "I feel like I always miss it. Everybody acts like it's so special."

"It is," You say softly, resting your hand on top of his. You can't deny that. "It'll happen," you say optimistically. With how bad he wants it, it has to, you silently tell your daughter.

"Yeah," He doesn't sound convinced, rolling to a sitting position. "Guess I'll go brush my teeth," He says, heading for the bathroom. You roll onto your back, reaching for your phone on the bedside table. You've just opened a conversation to respond to a text when you feel it - the faintest movement.

"Tetsu!" You call, "Come here!"

"What?" He's at the doorway in half a second, toothbrush hanging out of his mouth and a frown creasing his brow, "Wha's wrong?"

"She's moving," You say, and shift to a sitting position. You hear him spit the toothpaste in the sink, and he's there in a heartbeat, hand on your belly. Right beneath his hand, you feel her kick. You watch as the look of wonder crosses his face.

"Hi, baby girl," He breathes, focusing all of his attention on the movement of your daughter beneath his hand. "I love you so much. I'm so excited to meet you." He turns to look at you then. "Finally," He grins, and you can't help but return it.

"Didn't I tell you?" You say smugly.

"Yeah, yeah." He silences you with a minty kiss.

KAGEYAMA TOBIO

At this point in your pregnancy, there's very little that soothes your aching back. Lying down, standing up, moving around, the pain is always there in the background to some extent. That's why you find yourself in the living room in the middle of the night, propping yourself up between the arm chair and wall in search of a position that will provide some relief.

"Are you alright?" You nearly jump out of your skin at the touch of Tobio's hand on your back. When you left the room, he'd been sleeping like a rock as usual.

"Fine," You assure him, stretching to a slightly more dignified position. "My back's just a little sore."

"Oh," He runs a hand gently up and down the muscles of your back. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Hold this for a second?" You say with a breathy laugh, mostly joking as you press a hand beneath your round stomach.

"I can try," He says seriously, moving behind you. You're about to tell him it was just a joke, but then you feel his chest pressed against your back and his hands gently supporting the underside of your belly. Instead of the protest that had been forming on your lips, you let out a groan of relief.

"Was that good?" He asks uncertainly.

"Very good," You're quick to assure him, letting your eyes close. He only hums in response, pressing a light kiss to your shoulder. You'd forgotten it was possible for your back to feel this normal. It's blissful. You could almost fall asleep right here and now.

"You sure are making trouble for your mama," You hear your husband whisper, drawing you back out of your drowsy state.

"It's okay," You murmur, "It'll all be worth it." He presses another kiss to your shoulder, and you sink back into silence.

"I really think we should get you back to bed," He says finally. Even though it means he'll have to let go, you feel you don't have any choice but to agree. "We can do this again tomorrow," He promises as he takes your hand to make your way back to the bedroom. You give his hand a tug and press a kiss to his lips. You'll hold him to that.

SAKUSA KIYOOMI

"I'm home," You hear Kiyoomi call from the front door. You freeze, but it's too late to hide the evidence. Soon enough, your husband appears in the nursery doorway, and you're caught red-handed.

"I told you I'd build that bookshelf tonight," He says, striding into the room and plucking the loose shelf from your hand. He takes the bag of screws from the other, sets them down, and then draws you away from your project.

"I know, but I just had to do something," You insist. "I already put all the clothes in the dresser, vacuumed, washed the drapes, and the box was just sitting there." His brow creases, and you realize you've said too much.

"You washed the drapes?" He heaves a heavy sigh. "How did you even get them down? And put them back up?"

You smile nervously. "A chair," You try to sound nonchalant. "They really aren't that high."

"My love," He says, taking your hands in his. "Please don't do something like that again. What if you fell?" You lower your head, biting down on your lip. It truly hadn't crossed your mind.

"Sorry," You whisper, "There's just so much to do! We need to be ready. The baby will be here in just a few months. I just want everything to be perfect."

"I know," He says, now rubbing comforting circles into the backs of your hands, "And we'll take care of everything. Together." He draws you into him and tucks your head beneath his chin. "I promise. I just want you to be safe."

His voice is a comforting rumble against your ear, and you nod your head against him. "I know," You agree softly.

"Good," He says, pulling back and pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Now, since you've been busy all day, why don't you let me make dinner?" You open your mouth to protest, but with one look at his face, you close it again. "After dinner, you can read me the instructions. I'll build the bookshelf."

You smile at your husband. "Thanks for taking care of us, Kiyoomi," You say, and his expression softens.

"Of course. It's my job."

[adoringhaikyuu]

hi, i hope your day was good! i just have a request for how tsukishima, oikawa, ushijima, and kuroo (separately) would react to reader (their partner) holding the hq men’s waistband in their sleep lmaoo

smut/suggestive or not is up to you!! also pls take your time <3

YOU HOLD THEIR WAISTBAND IN YOUR SLEEP

characters: kuroo + oikawa + tsukishima + ushijima + (gn!reader)

warnings: kuroo's is a smidge suggestive, but overall pretty pg

★ kuroo would 100% think you're trying to tease him and get freaky. but when he sees you're asleep, he smiles to himself and shakes his head before kissing yours. he takes a picture of you with him smirking at the camera, and texts it to you so you see it when you wake up––'even in your sleep you're trying to get in my pants ;)'

★ oikawa loves it because it means he's rubbing off on you. he literally sleeps with a hand down your pants cause it's comfy. will physically move your hand to hold his waistband if you don't do it one day (he gets pouty if you don't give him attention).

★ tsukishima pretends to be annoyed but when you stop randomly one day, he huffs and can't sleep. literally makes noise for you to telepathically understand and put your hand back.

★ ushijima raises a brow but doesn't move your hand, it's weirdly kind of comforting. he'll put his hand on top of yours and lightly rub his thumb in a soothing pattern.

[lale-txt]

Kuroo looks at you like you’re magic. Leaning in the doorframe with his arms crossed, watching you brush your teeth, still drowsy from your alarm going off only a few minutes ago.

He doesn’t care that you’re wearing the same oversized shirt of his for the third day in the row because the moving box with yours is buried somewhere you don’t remember. You’ve long given up on finding a pair of pants. The flat is a mess and so are you, your thoughts as scattered as your shared belongings on the floor. It’s bittersweet, moving out of this flat that you’ve lived in together for so many years. 

Your first home. 

These walls have seen everything–your Nekoma volleyball club jackets on the wall, the "we're really just good friends and roommates" cuddles on the couch late at night, the clumsy and drunk confessions in the kitchen, the needy open-mouth kisses against his bedroom door. You both fell in love here and never stopped doing so, a love so big and ever-growing till it didn’t fit into this small apartment anymore.

"You're beautiful," Kuroo mutters and wraps his arms around your middle from behind, pressing a kiss against the side of your neck. He lingers with his eyes closed, taking in your warmth and the familiar scent of your skin. It was his idea, getting a house outside of the city. Somewhere you can breathe, he said. He doesn’t mind the commute, he’d walk till the end of earth if it meant coming back home to you. 

Calm. Kuroo makes you feel calm.

It’s as if he turns down the volume of your own thoughts till they’re nothing but white noise, all with a simple hug. In his arms, you found safety and a deep belonging, like you’re molded to fit in there. Kuroo and you, you and Kuroo. You’re your own person but you’re also his, and when he kisses you it’s like the sun and the moon are colliding in an otherworldly unison.

Kuroo laughs softly when you give him a toothpaste kiss on his cheek, the fingers of your free hand tangling in his messy hair as you pull him closer. The other day you had found a white hair in there, his first one. Another tiny milestone shared. You had teased him about it, lovingly, and Kuroo simply pulled you closer and looked at you with all the devotion of the world. Small kisses pressed against your knuckles and the insides of your wrist, his thumb rubbing over the spot where a ring would be a few days after that.

“I don’t mind turning gray and old, as long as it’s with you,” he murmured and something had tugged on your heartstrings when he did.

Kuroo’s love is honest and raw, in a way that never leaves you second-guessing. It’s warm and tender. He makes you feel safe when everything inside of you is falling apart. And when he cradles your heart in his calloused hands you understand what it means to be seen, to be cared for, to be loved.

[clawsdevour]

how long?

wc: 0.4k content warning: post-timeskip, smut, kuroo x reader, not proofread

♡⠀𓈒 ◌⠀⠀ㅤ۫ㅤ

"ha.." kuroo's hot breath tickles down your neck, sending you chills down your spine the moment his cold fingertips teased your dripping folds that ached for his simmering touch.

"how long has it been since we've been like this?" snarky eyes hiding sinful desires peering up into your glazed stare, followed by a smirk curling onto his lips.

those fingers made their way into your searing cunt that've been waiting for far too long. kuroo's job kept you two apart until season was over as you craved for him.

his delicate slender digits scissored inside you, creating impeccable moans that kissed his ears as he started to form a tent in his stiff work pants.

crying out in pleasurable and joy, kuroo's hot lips land multiple gentle kisses on your warm flushed skin whilst bearing the hardness to tend to your needs.

reaching deeper into your nether regions with each push and shove the satisfaction of his fingers gave you felt that pent up tension that oh so wanted to be released at any given moment.

your legs squirmed in stimulation, almost pushing him away as you took in all the sensations that made your whole body quiver with his strokes.

"tell me when you want it.. or beg," kuroo whispered, letting out a seductive snicker resonating at the crest of your ear.

whimpering out in pants of breathlessness, attempting to murmur out words that he wanted to hear you begged.

granting your wish, he immediately took out his fingers that're coated with your shining juices while he's hastily working off his belt. wasting no more time, he couldn't wait anymore.

unzipping his pants and letting his length out for your viewing pleasure, he stroked as the stiffness was irresistible, especially with the sight of your legs wide open to welcome him back home.

cat-like eyes darted to make contact with yours, nodding at him to put it in he obeyed.

sliding his thick cock on your slit to cover himself with your essence, the sensitive feeling washing over you before he lined himself at your entrance.

sharp eyes focused on watching his tip slide into your tight core fixed his whole day.

kuroo's low groan came out of his mouth the moment his whole cock's situated inside your heat-emitting cunt that wouldn't let him go.

"i missed you," kuroo heaves out of breath.

masterlist here

[act-nat-ural]

It started when Kuroo referred to you as his ‘karaoke wife.’ Kenma’s face twisted into one of clear disgust. “What does that even mean..” Kuroo threw an arm around your shoulder and gave you a smug look. “Care to explain?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn't hold back your smile. “It means we only go to karaoke if the other is going.” The team gave you an unimpressed look as Kuroo gestured for you to go on. You sighed and avoided eye contact, mumbling, “We also only do duets with each other.”

You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks as Fukunaga let out a giggle and Yamamoto muttered, “I wish I had a karaoke wife,” under his breath.

Kuroo chuckled, sensing your discomfort. “What she means is, we’ve got a vibe when we sing together. Like, there’s this chemistry between us that just clicks. It’s like we can read each other’s minds, you know? We can start a song without saying a word, and it just flows. Perfect harmonies, smooth transitions… It’s like we’re in sync. Like we *get* each other, musically.”

The team looked between you and Kuroo with varying degrees of skepticism. Kenma raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh, chemistry, sure.”

“You know,” Kuroo continued, leaning back and grinning, “There’s a special kind of magic when you’re so in tune with someone. We can make any song sound like it’s meant for us. Ever heard of ‘The Power of Love’?” He looked to you, eyes glinting. “It’s like, you and I? We can turn even the cheesiest love songs into something everyone wants to listen to. And don’t get me started on our ‘Shallow’ duet. We had the whole room cheering.”

You felt the familiar rush of both pride and bashfulness. “It’s not that impressive,” you muttered, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. You were secretly proud of the way your voices blended, the effortless way you made each performance feel unique.

“Are you kidding?” Kuroo scoffed, clearly enjoying the teasing. “I’m pretty sure we make every karaoke night legendary. I mean, do you see how we make the crowd react? They go wild. It's not just the song—it’s us. We’ve got that... thing.”

The team was silent for a moment, trying to process what Kuroo was saying. Finally, Fukunaga spoke up, a teasing smile creeping up on his face. “I don’t know, man. If I’m ever looking for a duet partner, I might just steal (Name)  away from you.”

Kuroo’s face immediately shifted into mock offense. “Try it. You’ll regret it.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. “You’re being a little dramatic, aren’t you?”

“Nope.” Kuroo leaned forward, his voice dropping an octave. “You and I? We’ve got karaoke magic. I’m not just letting anyone ruin that.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the embarrassment from earlier melting away in the warmth of Kuroo’s words. He always knew how to make you feel special, and even though the teasing never stopped, you had to admit—it was kind of nice to be his ‘karaoke wife.’ The team might not get it, but you knew. When you two sang together, nothing else mattered.

But just as the moment seemed to settle, a voice rang out from Yamamoto, his grin wide and mischievous. “Kuroo, you do know you two are terrible, right?”

Kuroo’s confident smile faltered slightly, his eyes narrowing playfully. “Excuse me?”

Yamamoto shrugged with a grin, and Kenma, looking utterly bored, added dryly, “I mean, you both sound like two dying cats trying to harmonize. It’s not really the chemistry you think it is.”

The whole team, seemingly in agreement, nodded along. “You guys literally can’t stay on key for more than a few notes,” Fukunaga chimed in, barely suppressing his laughter.

You blushed, rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly. “Okay, okay, maybe we're not great... but it’s fun, right?”

“You and Kuroo are the worst,” Kenma said, deadpan. “You sound like you’re trying to hit notes that just don’t exist.”

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter at the realization. “We’re not that bad,” you protested, but even you knew it was true. Kuroo, despite his confidence, was as tone-deaf as they came, and your singing wasn’t much better. 

Kuroo threw his hands up dramatically. “You’re all just jealous of our unmatched charisma!”

The team snickered, and Yamamoto playfully patted Kuroo on the back. “Sure, buddy. But hey, we’ll still cheer you on. You’re great... at making everyone else sound better.”

With that, you and Kuroo exchanged a look, both of you trying not to crack up. Despite all the teasing, you knew one thing for sure—karaoke with Kuroo was never about being the best. It was about having fun, creating memories, and laughing at how awful your singing was. And honestly? That was more than enough for both of you.

note: kinda short but oh well

[wake-uptoreality]

It was not often when you two had arguments, but oh boy..when you did. You are angrily yelling at him. you didnt know what came over you...amd you just spit at him. He is shocked, amused even and can't belive what you did...but after all..he is sucker for unpredictable woman, since he is unpredictable man himself. He smirks as he grabs your chin while pinning you against the wall..he looks down at you and slips his thumb between your lips as he whispers huskily.

"Open your mouth, my turn"

-> SUNA, kageyama, TSUKISHIMA, OIKAWA, iwaizumi, kuroo, sugawara, ATSUMU.

[jesswritesthat]

love your writing!! can i request a kuroo x an introverted reader? so they would be very similar to kenma in that, how would kuroo handle two so different personalities to his? thank you so muchh

Thank you!! Also I appreciate the request too - I shall do my best with these, hope you like.

>>>>——————————>

Kuroo Tetsurō with an Introvert Headcanons:

• Kuroo is generally good with a range of people anyway, and growing up with Kenma meant he has an in-depth understanding of introverts.

• So when you come along he’s naturally his friendly self even if you practically run away. He’s left standing there with his hand up to call out to you and a surprised look soon turning into an embarrassed smile.

• With time though, and patience he manages to get conversations going with you around school and isn’t upset he had to initiate them since he wants to get to know you and all.

• Kuroo is practically beaming when you start one with him though, he has to resist the urge to tease you about it, but remains really happy.

• Yourself and Kenma seem to have this telepathic understanding however, conversing with looks or hums of acknowledgement to the point Nekoma are sorta baffled.

“What— what was that?”

“They’re going to grab drinks from the vending machine, they’ll be back shortly.” The captain answers nonchalantly despite everyone being mildly confused with yours and Kenmas’ joint disappearance.

“They didn’t even say anything!”

“They did, you weren’t paying attention - get back to received.” Yeah, Kuroo has learned the language through observation.

• Tetsurō is likely very honoured when you become close enough to see him as a trusted person and will try and build that by making your life a little easier where he can.

• Tired of people? No worries, let’s evacuate. Anxiety? Gotcha covered. Bored or feeling off? Teasing until you smile - even if slightly annoying, he lives for it.

• Like Kenma, he will drag you two along if the situations calls for it. The two of sighing painfully in each of Kuroos’ hands whilst he’d taking you god knows where.

“Tetsurōōō.”

“Don’t Tetsurō me, neither of you can skip this.”

“Ugh.”

• Secretly, you’re self and Kenma will admit you’re grateful for the scheming bedhead, despite rarely telling him that (if ever) but you think you give it away more with the soft smiles you give him. The ones that melt him a little inside.

• Loves that his friends get along, and feels comforted knowing Kenma and you have got someone similar to talk to. He might miss out on spending time with you because of this sometimes, but despite his playful whining about it he encourages you to step out of your comfort zone.

• However he also respects The Comfort Zone™. If you’re not feeling up to anything, he’ll gladly compromise to suit your needs - and is of course appreciative if you do the same for him.

“Alright, how about a movie day instead?”

“But… you wanted to go to the museum…”

“It should still be standing next week, we’ll aim for an off-peak time if that helps.” He offers you a proud smirk, one that tells you he’s at ease with this.

“Thanks Tetsurō. Please pick the first film then, and I’ll get some snacks.”

• It’s not perfect of course, he can be a little persistent with his sense of adventure and even though it’s in good faith of wanting to take you to new places and experience things with you - it can be overwhelming. But after discussing your feelings you’re both able to reach understandings on these matters.

• Overall Kuroo can be introverted himself at times, and understands what you experience due to putting in the time to get to know you and Kenma. If there is anything amiss he’ll want to work through it, it’s just very healthy and comforting. A safe space~

<——————————<<<<

[ Masterlist ]

[shouyuus]

colorimetery

kuroo; 1,843 words; fluff, lapslock, no "y/n", abuse of extended metaphors, none of this makes sense, kenma is the most in-touch person in this entire fic and that should tell you something, awk!kuroo, whipped!kuroo

summary: in which kuroo is down bad for you and nothing much else happens

a/n: @seiwas this is for u! u asked for kuroo and i humbly deliver :) hope u liked it bby; fun fact, a lot of these colors are pulled from the gamblin oil paints website bc i love their paints and also i love the thought that a lot of pigments were poisonous way back when and ppl were just... casually poisoning themselves while making their art; there's a metaphor in there somewhere... but i'll leave that up to interpretation lol

─── 鉄朗 THERE ARE COLORS he doesn’t know the names for, just like there are birds who will sing songs that no human will ever understand, but somewhere between the viridian of a sun-lit forest and the minor trill of a mockingbird’s call, he finds the shape of you.

and he doesn’t remember exactly when he’d started feeling like this, only that he’d woken up one day to a pastel sky, heard the tell-tale blip of a message from you, and felt his entire body flush vermillion, hard enough to poison.

c’mon, bedhead. time for school.

he grins down at the message, his lips pulling wide, his fingers still blunted by his honeyed dreams (how many of you? don’t ask him — he’s long since lost count) as he types out a reply.

be there in three.

he stumbles out of bed in the raw sienna sunrise, pulling on his uniform pants, shoving the hems of his un-ironed white shirt into the waistband before dashing out the door. he finds you haloed in liquid gold, standing on his doorstep, flicking through your phone before you notice him and your face breaks into an earth-rending smile.

kuroo feels dizzy, punchdrunk, a sake-shot of fire sizzling down his front till it pools in the base of his belly as he pulls on his shoes and tries to hide behind a well-timed cough.

“c’mon, we’re gonna be late.” he brushes passed you, but not before reaching out to ruffle at your hair, savoring in the midnight-soft of your tresses as it slips through his fingers.

you bicker the entire way to school, picking up kenma somewhere along the way. he casts you both a tired, reproachful look before slouching off ahead of you, content to resume whatever game he’s currently hyperfixating on while you and kuroo snipe at each other a few steps behind him.

“you could just ask her out,” kenma says during free period, his eyes never leaving his phone screen as he mashes at the attack button, watching the health bar of the boss monster dwindle even as kuroo makes an indignant sort of choking noise.

“w-what? she’s just — she’s just a friend.”

but at the scathing look kenma darts his way, kuroo finally relents.

“i — we’ve been friends for so long i just… i don’t wanna fuck it up, y’know?” he cards a hand through his already mussed up hair, eliciting a string of giggles from a cluster of girls sitting behind them, heads bent in towards one another, their long hair swishing like willow branches in a mid-autumn breeze; but neither of them take notice.

kenma heaves a world-weary sigh, grimacing as a large WIN!! image flashes across the face of his phone and he slumps back to frown at kuroo.

“i feel like you’ve built up enough affection points to unlock whatever good ending she’s got for you by now, so,” he pins kuroo with a pointed look, “i don’t think she’s gonna say no.”

kuroo can only blink, his mind churning around this strange yet apt analogy.

“aw man, you’re the best, y’know that?” he laughs, reaching over to catch kenma in a headlock, digging his knuckles into the crown of kenma’s head even as he struggles fruitlessly to get free.

it is in the cadium orange glow of sunset, after your art class and his volleyball practice, that kuroo finally works up the courage —

“hey uh — can i ask you something?”

you hike an eyebrow, a dangerous grin sharpening the shape of your lips.

“didn’t you just?”

kuroo lets out a frustrated sigh, “fuck you, you know what i meant.”

you laugh, the timber of it ringing through him like church bells on a sunday morning, and suddenly, he wonders if this feeling might be what inspired the ancients to worship at the feet of so much divinity — just this, the giddiness and anticipation, the knowledge and uncertainty. this, the insurmountable weight of something (call it love or infatuation, he doesn’t care) pressing down on his chest hard enough to rob him of every last breath.

he think that perhaps this is all anyone’s ever needed to start believing in magic.

“okay, okay,” you say, stifling a grin behind pink-pursed lips, “what did you wanna ask?”

“go out with me,” kuroo blurts out, well before he can stop himself. and he almost wants to sink into the earth with the way his entire body goes hot, the aftermath of a tectonic shift, the pluming heat of a volcanic hiccup.

you stare up at him, your expression curiously blank as he watches you, desperate for any sign of your answer, the most minuscule tells of how you might be feeling.

finally, you cock your head and ask, “was… there a question in there somewhere?”

kuroo almost swears*. almost*.

“fuck — fine! i meant — will you —”

“yes.”

“— it’s just i’ve — wait, what?” kuroo freezes, staring down at you with slack-jawed disbelief, blinking as if he doesn’t quite understand what you’re saying.

you allow yourself a smile, and kuroo feels his insides melt to something very much like molten marshmallows.

you let out a sigh that sounds remarkably like kenma’s — exasperated and amused in equal measure — before glancing back up at him with a bashful smile.

internally, kuroo wonders if this is what being “k.o-ed” feels like and he resolves to be just a bit more merciful to all of videogame opponents.

“i said yes, you big volleyball-obsessed oaf —”

“oh,” kuroo says, still not quite sure what he’s supposed to do from here.

you roll your eyes and turn back towards the sidewalk, taking a few steps before twisting your head to look at him.

“aren’t you gonna walk me home?”

kuroo nearly trips in his eagerness to level himself with you, but once he does, he straightens his shoulders and puffs out his chest.

“so —” he says, in a stab at his usual carefree bravado, “do i get to call you my girlfriend now?”

you shrug, “sure, if you want to.”

kuroo deflates ever so slightly, “what? you don’t want me to?”

you slant him a look that makes his knees turn to jelly.

“yeah, i do. but that won’t matter if you don’t, right?”

“i — i do!”

“so then…”

you turn your back on him again, though he’s sure this time he catches it — the dash of sweet magenta, swept across your lips like a kiss, or a promise.

or, the thought licks up the back of his throat, tantalizing — the promise of a kiss.

“oi.” he jogs to catch up with you, reaching out to sling an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in to press his lips into the thick of your hair, breathing you in, losing himself in the familiar smell of your shampoo — green tea and apples, or something of the sort.

you laugh, and he basks in the sound.

by the time he walks you home, the street is gilded in goldenrod yellow, your shadows stretching long beneath you, the slant-wise light painting everything in an ethereal glow.

“well,” kuroo says, shoving his hands into his pockets, if only to keep them from fidgeting, because guys like him don’t get nervous. at least, not like this.

“well,” you echo, letting your voice linger over the ‘l’, letting it twist around your tongue, the sound lulling at the top of your palette till kuroo feels his stomach catch.

“see you tomorrow?” he asks, cursing himself internally for sounding so uncertain. since when has he been so uncertain?

your lips twist into a tease, just a fish-tail flicker, and kuroo knows he’s done for.

“do you wanna stay for dinner?” you ask, just as he opens his mouth.

“unless you don’t —” his voice jerks into an abortive breath.

somewhere behind him, a raven fluffs out it’s feathers on the low-cut wall that separates your house from the rest of the street. a single black feathers flutters to the ground, dark as an oil spill.

“unless i don’t what?” you ask.

kuroo swallows around his thundering heartbeat, feeling the last dregs of sunlight seep from the far horizon.

“i was gonna say… unless you — you didn’t wanna say goodbye,” he admits, his eyes flicking away from your face if only to give himself a momentary reprieve from the intensity of your gaze.

you purse your lips, shrugging up a shoulder, a single lock of hair slipping from its place behind your ear.

“i never do. c’mon — or else they’ll start eating without us.”

kuroo is speechless as he watches you make your way up the shallow steps to your door, glancing over your shoulder towards him. he doesn’t know how many times he’s stayed over for dinner, how many times he’d lingered in the perfumed warmth of your room while you showered, flipping absently through the latest volume of jump, how many times you’d fallen asleep with your damp hair slowly soaking into his school uniform.

he couldn’t count them all if he wanted to. and he doesn’t really want to.

he takes a breath and takes the front path two steps at a time, leaping up the staircase with a smirk as he skims his palm along the top of your head. you make a sound like an annoyed hamster and kuroo allows himself a laugh that bubbles up and up and up till it’s spilling over, till he pushes open your front door and is greeted with the familiar sandalwood radiance of your front hallway, the light pooling around his ankles as he toes off his shoes.

“hey,” you say, and he turns around, only to find you leaning up on tip toe to brush your lips against his.

he freezes, but you’re pulling back already, shrugging off your coat, shouldering off your school bag and shouting down the hallway to ask what’s for dinner, and to say that kuroo’s here.

kuroo finds himself caught in the sharp cerulean blue of your laughter like the rain-washed sky, the smoke-ridden darkness in the shades of your eyes, he turns to see you blushing, even as you motion for him to follow you into the dining room. he does, only tripping over himself once (though he’s been feeling wobbly since this afternoon, when he’d resolved to ask you out in the first place).

and he tells himself that, yes, there will always be colors he doesn’t know the names of, bird songs he will never be able to understand. but colors, he can learn. and as for the birds — well, he figures that they’re all probably singing about falling in love anyway.

TAGLIST: @yaoduriaa @ominouslywritinginmyhead @naomihatake @cheesypuffkins87 @crispynutella @dira333 @stunies @phroggii @fennecnco @encrytpta @simpingdailyforthem @ryescapades -- join the taglist!

[tsukius]

How a date with them would look like ?

featuring: tsukishima kei, kuroo tetsurou, kageyama tobio, ushijima wakatoshi

author’s note: sooo, no im not dead. i have so much works in my draft i swear, i just need time to clean then upload them.

_________________________________

K.TSUKISHIMA

for a date, tsukki would take you to a quiet, cozy cafe. he loves the calm, relaxed atmosphere, and the chance to just sit and talk with you over a warm cup of tea or coffee. he'll pick a spot by the window, so you two can people-watch and make snarky comments together. tsukishima will also make sure to order your favorite treats, delighting in the way your face light up when you take that first bite.

throughout the date, he'll engage you in intellectual discussions, debating the merits of different artistic movements or the plot twists in both of your favorite books. but he also knows when to just sit back and listen, appreciating the way your eyes shine with passion as you share your own thoughts and opinions.

as the date winds down, tsukishima may suggest a stroll through a nearby park or museum, enjoying the quiet company. and when it's time to head home, he'll make sure to walk you to your door, maybe even stealing a soft, lingering kiss goodnight before reluctantly parting ways.

T.KUROO

kuroo is the type to plan an exciting, adventurous date for you. he might start by surprising you with tickets to a new art exhibit or a stand-up comedy show, knowing you'll appreciate the unique experiences. during the event, your boyfriend will be the perfect gentleman, his arm wrapped around your waist as he leans in to whisper teasing commentary in your ear.

after that, he'll take youto a trendy, dimly-lit restaurant, choosing a table tucked away in the corner for a more intimate setting. kuroo will insist on ordering a variety of tapas-style dishes, so you two can sample all sorts of flavors together. and of course, he'll make sure to pick out a bottle of your favorite drink to complement the meal.

as the night goes on, kuroo will guide youto a local park or rooftop bar, where you can stargaze and enjoy the city skyline. he'll hold you close, reveling in the way your head fits perfectly against his shoulder. and when it's time to part ways, he will steal one last, passionate kiss, his fingers tangled in your hair as he promises to plan an even better date next time.

T.KAGEYAMA

when it comes to dates, kageyama is a bit awkward and unsure of himself. but he knows that (if) you loves sports, he'll try to plan an active outing that caters to your interests. maybe he'll take you to a volleyball court and teach you some new skills, or challenge you to a game of one-on-one basketball. kageyama will be intensely focused, his brow furrowed in concentration as he coaches you and tries his best to impress you with his athletic prowess. but of course, if sports are really not your thing, he would have the same energy to do something you like.

after working up an appetite, kageyama will escort you to a casual, family-style restaurant, the kind with big portions and a lively atmosphere. he'll try his best to make conversation, asking you questions about your own hobbies and interests. and even though he might stumble over his words at times, kageyama will hang on your every word, captivated by the way you talk .as the date draws to a close, he might shyly suggest a walk through a quiet park or along the riverfront.

he'll be hyper-aware of your proximity, his fingers twitching with the urge to hold your hand. and when he finally musters up the courage to do so, kageyama will give your hand a gentle squeeze, his face flushed as he steals a quick, almost timid goodnight kiss.

W.USHIJIMA

for a date, ushijima would take his girlfriend to a serene, picturesque location- perhaps a scenic overlook or a quiet, secluded garden. he values tranquility and appreciates the chance to simply be present in the moment with you ushijima will pack a simple, but delicious picnic lunch, making sure to include all of your favorite foods.

during the date, he'll be attentive and engaged, listening intently as you share stories or thoughts. ushijima may not be the most talkative person, but he makes up for it by being a wonderful, thoughtful listener. he'll occasionally offer his own insights or observations, his deep voice calm and steady.

as the sun begins to set, ushijima will spread out a blanket, guiding you to sit beside him. you'll both watch the sky explode in brilliant hues of orange and pink, and he will subtly shift closer, his large hand covering yours. when the last of the daylight fades, he'll tuck you against his side, pressing a tender kiss to the top of you head. it may not be the most flashy or adventurous date, but for ushijima, it's the perfect way to cherish his time with the person he cares for most.

[thesacredfanfics]

@lale-txt I never clicked so fast on a picrew!!! Yours are so cuteeee and the royal au is adorable! 🥰 also the matching hairpins aaaaaah how sweet 🥹🥰

Context even if nobody asked lmao

Oikawa: he's always teasing me to make me flustered and to rizz me up (this one without success). This time he got a taste of his own medicine, and he actually got his smug look wiped out his face kissed back for real. He became immediately a mess and actually fell in love hard, byeee

Kuroo: genuinely shocked that he got kissed after he won the game, he was so caught off guard that he didn't know what to do with his mouth, also I got him a flower crown for the winner and we match because I also won

Sugawara: just two dorks being cute! I gave him a daisy to match with my earring because he deserves it (and he will proudly wear it everywhere he goes)

I got a little carried away but this was so much fun!! 🥰🥰🥰

Bonus: my irl boyfriend 🥰

He pretends to go in for a kiss and leaves me there hanging with my eyes closed and lips out ready for the kiss and stays still to look at me and smirk or smile starstruck while I get fake offended because "excuse me but where's my kiss?? 😤🥹❤️"

tag game! found this adorable picrew where you can kiss your fave

tagging @jasonsmirrorball @teddybeartoji @orchidsangel (no pressure!) and anyone else that wants to join in!

[miyaagis]

now i see you clear... standing stoic blue and denim

suggestive‐mdni. infidelity, husband!kuroo + wife!reader, female oc, mentions of pregnancy.

tnmici m.list

the contrast of his warm hands against the small of your back feels soothing enough that a smile automatically graces your lips. even with your back facing him, his struggle is palpable as the tiny slider slips from his fingers. it’s a battle he fights for around two long minutes until the zipper finally gives in, sliding up smoothly and making the fabric of your top secure tightly around your form.

“stunning.”

always the charmer, your husband’s praise serves as a reminder of his love, warming up your chest as you smooth down the satin fabric of your long skirt.

“appropiate enough?” you question your outfit choice since it’s not a formal event, but rather a casual dinner with a handful of kuroo’s colleagues and managers at an investor's house (whose wife immediately demanded your presence as soon as she saw your husband’s wedding ring). “or is it too much?”

he spins you around, careful to maneuver you so you don’t trip over your heels and stay secured against his chest. he’s staring but there’s love emanating from his eyes.

“you’re perfect, baby.” barely a murmur as his eyes close, leaning down to press his lips on the crown of your head. “so gorgeous.”

a sigh leaves his lips when your hands cup his face and bring him down for a gentle kiss, the slow cadence of your lips moving against his causing his grip on your waist to tighten.

“careful,” he mumbles against your mouth and yet he doesn’t look like he’s planning on parting from them anytime soon. “or you’ll make us late. and how can i make you a stay at home mommy if i get fired, hm?”

your lips turn into a pout, your gaze flickering to the thin bracelet watch on your wrist while your other hand smooths over the hairs at the back of his head, “but we have twenty minutes to spare…”

he says your name in a low and warning tone, sensing his resolve starting to weaken. but he’s drowning between your soft thighs not even a minute later.

—

everyone seems pleased to meet you, especially the married women. they immediately fuss around you and your husband, complaining about not being introduced earlier.

“this is my wife,” he smiles fondly at you, watching you offer a kind smile to the small circle of people that consisted mostly of his higher ups and their wives.

their words of praise and compliments quickly become too much, and all you can do is cling to your husband’s bicep, hoping and praying to the heavens that your discomfort isn’t obvious.

with a hand on the small of your back, kuroo guides you away from them and towards the table where the rest of his colleagues are.

“you’re going to get me a promotion at this rate.”

“good. more money to retire early and have you all to myself.”

a comeback sits right at the tip of his tongue, unfortunately, it slips away as he catches eyes with her. if there’s a shift in the atmosphere, you don’t seem to notice it, too busy basking in the relief of being set free from the older women.

“honey, this is uesugi yuko,” his tone lacks his usual teasing, switching to a polite—almost too formal—one. “a colleague.”

you extend your hand and she takes it, barely smiling but not enough to be considered rude.

“pleased to make your acquaintance.” you quickly notice two things about her: one, she’s young, probably the only one closer in age to your husband among the rest of his co-workers. and two, she’s wearing a pair of light wash denim that could’ve passed as tacky had the characteristic crosses not given away the brand of her jeans. she wears designer… for denim. “i hope he doesn’t give you much trouble.”

your attempt to lighten up the mood is met with yuko’s tight smile. you figure she’s probably a woman of a few words, so you don’t hold it against her.

“he’s competent enough.”

that’s all she says but it doesn't sound like your tetsuro. at all.

—

it’s been over thirty minutes and the hype has died down, however, the awkward talk about kids is on full swing—something that kuroo seems to be enjoying a lot.

“i told her already, but she insists on having at least three years of just the two of us before we start trying.” he clicks his tongue and you’d think it’d be out of annoyance, but the smirk exposes his facade.

the rest of the women shake their heads, some of them pat his back in support, others give you disapproving looks.

“do it now that you two are young!”

you deflate slightly at their opinionated, yet unwanted, advice. but then kuroo’s arms are wrapping around your waist, tugging you closer to him.

“she’s the boss,” he says tenderly, a lovesick smile on his lips as he gazes at you and it’s enough to reassure you of his support in the matter. “we’ll do it her way.”

“kuroo! bring another bottle, they’re in the fridge.”

one of the managers calls out your husband’s name, waving his hand drunkenly towards the back of the house.

with a kiss on your cheek, kuroo drops his arms from your middle and stands up. “be right back.”

it only takes him a few, lazy strides to reach the spacious kitchen at the back, separated by the rest of the dining and living room area by a wall decorated with a bookcase. however, he stops abruptly once he sees yuko pouring herself a drink.

neither of them speak, focusing on their own tasks and wanting to get the hell out of there as fast as possible. that is, until yuko knocks out a bottle.

“everything okay?”

cursing under his breath, kuroo pops his head out of the kitchen and smiles, showing a thumbs up. “it was an empty bottle, i got it!”

still in silence, the two of them pick the shattered pieces of glass, his hands immediately reaching out to stop hers. but when she pulls them away before he can touch them, he finally snaps.

“you can’t ignore me forever.”

yuko quickly stands up and heads to the other side of the kitchen, her gaze everywhere but on him, while trembling fingers struggle to close the lid of the mineral water in front of her.

“hey–”

“your wife’s here, for fucks sake!” she finally explodes in a harsh whisper, clearly distressed by the remorse and risk of getting caught doing something they shouldn’t.

even if they were doing nothing wrong. 

“yuko, i’m not trying to do anything.” he raises his hands as if pleading himself as innocent, “i just wanna talk.”

“well, i don’t.” her tone is sharp and cold, frowning at him as he stands up too and approaches her with careful steps. “don’t you feel guilty?”

“it’s eating me alive.”

she sighs and leans against the marble countertop, ignoring the elephant in the room that clearly needs to be addressed.

“but i can’t lie.” kuroo continues, another step closer, and with one of the most serious looks she has ever seen on his eyes. “i enjoyed it… way too much.”

“it’s wrong.”

“i know.”

a pause, an empty silence loaded with endless questions, even if they both know what should be done in a case like this. the correct answer is clear.

“so why… why do i want it to happen again?”

but it’s easier to pretend they don’t see it than to face the consequences of their actions.

“i don’t know.”

[kvroomi]

thinking about bf!kuroo who insists you start your mornings off by picking a random word and seeing who can weave it into the most conversations throughout the day. winner gets bragging rights, obviously.

which leads you to your current position: standing in a coffee shop while kuroo taps his foot, plotting. today’s word of the day is perpendicular. there’s a smirk on his lips so strong he has his entire face twisted to look in the opposite direction so you don’t notice. alas, it doesn’t work.

“what are you planning?” your eyes narrow as you look up at him.

“relax, babe.” he bumps his hip into yours, playfully as your eyebrows furrow and your frown deepens. he continues,

“just making life more interesting,” and winks at you, before resting an arm around your shoulders.

when it’s finally your turn to order, the cashier greets you with friendly smile and politely asks what you’d like to get. before you can even think to open your mouth, kuroo steps in.

“hey there!” he says, far too loud and enthusiastic for 9am on a sunday.

“i was just admiring how perfectly perpendicular this counter is to the floor.” he rubs at the front of the marbled table, even going as far as to step backwards and act like he was admiring the ground. oh my god you think.

“very impressive craftsmanship.”

the cashier blinks confused and you have to bite your lip to avoid cussing him out (it was actually to stop yourself from laughing but you’d never tell kuroo that), as he continues to double down.

“it’s not every day you see such a perpendicular set up! must make the coffee taste better, huh?” he adds with a dramatic nod as if he’d just uncovered something groundbreaking.

the cashier looks from him to you, unsure whether it was a weird joke the two of you were trying to play, or if kuroo genuinely was just passionate about counters.

“uh… probably?” they say hesitantly.

you roll your eyes but you can’t fight off the smile that slowly begins to make its way to your face. you cut in, suddenly feeling bad for subjecting the cashier to kuroo’s jokes so early in the morning and order

“we’ll just get 1 large vanilla iced americano with a dash of oat milk, and a large oat milk mocha to takeaway, please.”

you watch the cashier nod and kuroo walks up to pay.

as you walk away from the counter, you whip your head towards kuroo’s as you both burst into immediate laughter.

“stop tormenting the workers!” you manage to choke out.

he grins, very clearly pleased with himself and leans toward you. “i’m just living up to the word of the day. don’t hate the game, babe.”

you hear your coffee order get called and you drag him up to collect it.

he holds the door for you as you leave and you can’t help the soft smile that lingers as you comment with a shake of your head, “you’re the biggest dork i’ve ever met.”

and, of course, kuroo responds with a boisterous laugh: “yeah, but i’m your dork.”

there’s a beat before he’s laughing to himself again,

“perpendicularly yours.”

[dira333]

this was amazing, such a well crafted Story

❦ IDLE HANDS (Kuroo x f!reader)

Shameless, you think. Unsure if you mean him or yourself when you narrow the distance between you two.

a/n: little something for @husbandograveyard ♡ writing this made me a Kuroo girlie. i get it now. i really, REALLY do. also when i started writing this i was aiming for 1k or so idk what possessed me but here we are. maybe listening to bouncy while writing this wasn't the best idea (lie)

tags: f!reader, mild enemies to lovers, fluff, mutual pining, shameless flirting, food mention, bit of a slow burn, they're so in love your honor

wc: 3.7k

Kuroo Tetsuro is a heartthrob.

With his stupid messy hair and his stupid rolled up sleeves, showing off his stupid toned arms while he’s mumbling stupid sweet things to your favorite cat that’s currently coiling underneath his stupid big hand, getting the best belly rubs of her life from the looks of it. 

It’s not like you’re jealous or something, no; it’s just that you’ve been coming to this cat café for a year now and you thought you and the calico shared a special bond. Maru, who is just as her name implies, very round and very soft, has been sitting and purring by your side while you spend hours typing page after page of your next book. She’d also stretch out all over your laptop and remind you to take a break when you’ve been going at it for hours. Yes, it took you some bribery to win her heart but over the past months she really warmed up to you. Wow, she usually isn’t this friendly with people, you remember the café owner say once. 

What a blatant lie. 

Your peace has been disturbed. A slight shift in the universe when he showed up for the first time merely a week ago. It was easy to remember him, because he was sitting in your spot with your favorite cat purring in his lap, looking like he didn’t have a single worry in the world except maybe that untamed hair of his (and even this was kind of charming, you had to admit begrudgingly).

Sharing usually wasn’t a big deal for you–until it was. You come to this cat café almost every day, feeling much more inspired to write here than in the shoebox you call your apartment at the other end of town. Your landlady doesn’t allow pets, so this place has been a lifeline in the tiring times of deadlines and rejected book deals. At the end of the day there was always a cat rubbing against your legs, reminding you that not everything was bad and that no matter how severe things got, there was always a kitty waiting to be picked up.

You hold this place very dear to your heart, a secret gem you felt a need to protect. It is hidden away in a side street, far from the hectic buzz of the city. The interior is cozy, it isn’t too big and the owner, an elderly lady with candy cotton hair and knuckle tattoos, lives upstairs and treats the place like her second living room with all six of her cats. There’s never too many other guests around and in the corner seat by the window you can unravel your thoughts quietly. It feels homey, something you haven’t felt in a long time.

But now there is an intruder in a business suit and you didn’t really know how to deal with that new found irritation.

“That’s my spot.”

Balancing your laptop, notebook, a slice of carrot cake and a hot drink in one hand, all manners aside, you point at the stranger with your other. In your right mind you know it is rude to point at people, but to be fair he kinda started it by sitting where you rightfully belong. His eyes, a certain gleam in them, follow your movement down to the cat curled up on top of his thighs. With the amount of cat hair sticking to his suit pants you could only pray for him that he had a lint roller somewhere at his desk. 

He cocks his head to the side, giving you a boyish smirk that maybe would make your heart skip a beat if it wasn’t for his audacity. 

“Usually I ask someone’s name first and take them on a few dates before I let them sit in my lap, but I guess I can make an exception,” he replies and you never in your life before wanted to strangle someone so badly. If that wasn’t already worse enough, the tuxedo cat lifts its small head and slowly blinks at you before jumping down from his lap, as if it was trying to make space for you. My bad, didn’t know this seat was taken. Here, girl, you have it.

For once in your life you’re too stunned to speak. You watch the stranger check his watch and let out an almost inaudible sigh before he grabs his backpack (one that looks like he has had it since high school) and stands up to full height. He’s in your space now and you have to crank your neck slightly to meet his eyes. Mentally you’re adding stupidly tall to your list of things you hate about him. 

“Gotta get back to work. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

True to his words he is there the next day, too. This time around you managed to secure your spot by the window, three cats idly sleeping next to you on. You’ve been stuck on a paragraph for almost an hour now when the doorbell chimes and his figure appears at the counter. The cats look up with interest but you force yourself not to pay any attention to him, which is hard when his order is literally “I’ll have whatever she is having”, followed by a nod in your direction and this cheeky smile again. 

This damn smile.

“You didn’t strike me as a dirty chai drinker,” you deadpan when he takes a seat at the table next to yours. The café is almost empty around this time of the day, which is no surprise since most of the workers in this district are having a hearty meal for lunch and not whatever sweet delicacies this place is offering. 

He peels himself out of his suit jacket and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. The same cat as yesterday jumps into his lap immediately after he sits down, giving you a look of “if you don’t want him, I’ll take him” and you almost roll your eyes. Kuroo (you learn his name from the ID he is wearing around his neck) seems to notice and he grins at you. 

“Then what did I strike you as?” he asks, his chin resting in one hand while his other finds the soft fur of the kitty, stroking it gently. 

You look him up and down, now taking your time while stretching out the silence between you two. Only the purring of the cats and the soft music in the background could be heard. At first glance he seems like your typical office worker in the three piece suit who spends his time filling out spreadsheets and drinking cheap vending-machine coffee from the conbini next door. Everything a little rumpled, himself included, someone so used to tristesse he doesn’t even notice it anymore. 

Only at second glance do you notice the small wrinkles around his eyes, not from age but from laughter. The dimples when he smiles down at the tuxedo cat in his lap, now showing off its belly. His calloused hands, atypical for an office worker, more like you’d see them at craftsmen or athletes. Something in his eyes that radiates warmth and an air of calm confidence. None of it is unpleasant.

“If I had to guess, maybe three espresso with a pump of caramel and honey,” you say, more to yourself than to him. Kuroo looks at you in surprise before barking out a laugh. You hate how you like the sound of it.

It’s the beginning of spring and you award Kuroo Tetsuro the title of the greatest nuisance you’ve ever met.

In the midst of summer, you pity him. 

“I’m just saying that maybe you radiate a natural fragrance of catnip,” you say as you stir your iced oat milk latte. Kuroo got you that one when he popped in during his lunch break and saw that your glass must have been empty for a while. By that time you were hunched over your laptop, trying to decipher your notes from last night. You had saved him a seat at your table, but if he asked you, you’d say you just happened to put all your belongings on one chair and nothing more.

The man is swarmed by the cats of the café. They didn’t even bother to hide who their favorite is, rubbing around his legs, sitting pressed to his side or just straight up climbing his shoulders. It would’ve been enviable if he wasn’t already sweating from wearing a suit in the humid heat of the summer month alone. 

“Can you get at least one or two off me?” he asks and his tone is close to pleading. It makes you laugh as you stretch out in your light sundress, giving him a look as if you’re contemplating his question. 

“I could, but it’s really much funnier seeing you struggle like that. Serves you well,” you chime and pull out your phone, snapping a photo of this moment. You hold it up for him to see, a kitty phone charm dangling from it (they just happened to come in a pack of two and you gifted him one out of generosity, nothing more). He snatches it from your hands and makes a face.

“So you like seeing me suffer, is that how it is?” he snarls at you, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. His slender fingers fly over the screen of your phone and you let out a small gasp.

“Don’t you dare delete it,” you huff and grab the orange tabby mercifully off his shoulders so you can lean over him better. 

“Relax. I’m only saving my contact info since you never bothered asking me for it despite being my constant for the past three months.”  

There was this cheeky smile again. You blame the flutter of your heart on the caffeine and not the way his pupils are dilating when he gazes at you. 

He loosens his tie and unbuttons his shirt slightly, just enough to reveal a sliver of skin. Suddenly you’re very aware of how close you’re leaning over at him. Kuroo gives you a little glance from the corner of his eyes and taps the now revealed side of his neck. 

“What do you say? Do I really smell like catnip?” 

Shameless, you think. Unsure if you mean him or yourself when you narrow the distance between you two. You can feel the heat radiating off him and for a brief moment you wonder what it would feel like to press open mouth kisses on his skin. Your eyes flutter shut as you engrave this moment into your heart. 

“Definitely irresistible,” you murmur once you pull back–reluctantly, as if a hidden part of you ached to be in his proximity, in the inside of his soul.  

By autumn you miss him on the days when he was gone. 

He traveled quite a lot. You didn’t know one would need to be on the road so much for something as simple as volleyball (you can imagine the look he’d give you over this). But he was passionate about it and that’s also something you liked about him. The way he talks about the sport holds so much love and you wonder what it would feel like to be loved by a man like Kuroo Tetsuro.

Gentle, you think. Honest. Treasured.

A tap against the window pulls you out of your thoughts and when you look up, you're met with a pair of honey glazed eyes. Whatever he sees when he looks at you, it’s making him grin from ear to ear before he hurries towards the entry door, eager to meet you again.

Kuroo is holding up a bag, some brand of sweets from Hokkaido he’s been texting you about, but you didn’t think he’d actually go so far and bring you some. He sounds breathless when he speaks, as if he rushed all the way to get here and when he keeps on rambling, you order him and yourself a hot matcha boba and a chocolate mousse to share. 

The cats are happy to see him back too, and you laugh when you help him take his scarf off before some kitty claws can tangle up in it. It was a precious gift after all, one you knitted for him, under the feeble excuse of “keeping my hands busy helps me come up with ideas for my writing process”. It makes you happy to see him wearing it, and the color makes you feel as if you took the red string of fate connecting you two and turned it into something to help him stay warm.

You think a lot about kissing him now. Sometimes your hands would brush against each other on the table, neither of you pulling away. He spends his lunch breaks with you and comes to pick you up from the café in the evening, walking you to your station. The two of you still bicker at each other, but underneath lies a certain kind of softness, one that feels too fickle to put it into words just yet but also too bright to ignore. The leaves of the trees are falling and so are you. 

With winter comes snow and the quiet realization that maybe, just maybe, it’s unadulterated love. 

You spend a lot of time huddled together in the corner by the window now. He looks over your shoulder when you type on your laptop, one arm resting idly on the back of your chair, fingertips brushing against your spine sometimes. You don’t think he even notices when he lets them run up and down there. Often you forget which cups on the table belong to who but it doesn’t matter since you order the same things anyway and because this could count as an indirect kiss, right? 

On some days he’d just close his eyes and laze next to you, with his head resting on his folded arms on the table and your fingers idly weaving through his hair, before he had to hurry back to work. On others he would tell you excitedly about a special match he was organizing and you can hear the pure joy in his voice. It’s contagious.You get them now, the cats. How drawn they are to him, like chasing sunbeams. 

He spells L-O-V-E on your back with his fingertips and something inside of you softens. 

Then there’s snow, more snow than you’ve ever seen in your entire life, and Kuroo comes to pick you up early, the tip of his ears bright red and his cold hands seeking yours to warm them up. 

“I’m really sorry but I’m closing the shop early today,” the café owner apologizes and puts a box of cinnamon rolls for you on your table. “You two kittens better hurry and get home, too. On the radio they said they’re gonna shut everything down soon.”

It can’t be that bad, you think. But when Kuroo and you stand in front of the closed station, it dawns on you that maybe you’ve underestimated the amount of snow a teeny tiny bit. You huddle a little closer to him for warmth and to shield yourself against the snow as you pull out your phone. 

“If there’s no more trains running, I better start looking for a place to stay. With some luck there’s still a few vacant rooms in the hotels nearby…”

Kuroo puts a hand over your screen and gives you a stern look when you open our mouth to protest. 

“You can crash at my place for the night. I live close by," he mutters and it doesn’t really leave room to decline his offer. Maybe it’s not really an offer to begin with; more of a silent pleading to stay. Not just for the duration of the snowstorm, but forever maybe. 

His place is just like you imagined it would be like. Not overly spacious but it feels like a home in every corner. There’s photos on the wall, back from when he was a kid to his high school and college years, and pinned with a magnet to the fridge is also a polaroid he took of you back in summer. In it you’re laughing about something silly he said and you’re holding up two cats at once, one strap of your sundress almost slipping down your shoulder. You still remember how he fixed it for you because you didn’t have a hand free and how his fingers lingered for longer than necessary. 

You hope one day he won’t pull his hand away anymore.

The apartment is certainly not messy but you can see he lives in this place, with some papers scattered across the coffee table and the unmade bed and the slightly concerning stock of buldak noodles in the kitchen shelves (in which you peeked out of curiosity into while he was in the shower). You imagine yourself living here, too. Maybe you’d get a cat on your own and plants for the balcony once this winter was over. 

The laundry machine rumbles quietly in the background after you step out of the bathroom, too. It wasn’t just the steamy shower that had your cheeks feel hot, it was also his clothes that he put out for you, with his scent lingering on them and engulfing you softly. Kuroo appears with two cups from the kitchen and pauses when he sees you, his mouth opening and closing again as his eyes flicker over your form. He doesn’t want to stare but also he does want to stare, wants to drink you in and memorize every detail of this moment. 

You can see his Adam's apple bop slightly when he swallows and nods over to the couch, and it’s at this moment that you know you’re not leaving this apartment again before every inch of your skin has been plastered in kisses. 

“It’s not as good as the one’s at the café but I tried my best for my special guest,” he laughs quietly when he hands you your cup, his fingers brushing against yours. The hot chocolate looks impossibly sweet, with whipped cream and sprinkles on top (they’re not ordinary sprinkles, you realize, but tiny cat shaped ones), and the first sip would’ve been enough to send you in some higher spheres if you weren’t in a state of bliss due to his proximity already. You put the cups to cool down on the coffee table and sink into the couch. 

Outside the snow is falling relentlessly, muffling the sounds of the outside world and opening up a new one, right here in these four walls.

In his arms. 

Without realizing you both settled down in your now familiar positions, only closer this time. Huddled next to each other, with one of his arms around your shoulder drawing you nearer to him. It feels natural, the way your head comes to rest against his shoulder and your legs thrown over his lap, the two of you sharing a blanket. 

He’s warm. Kuroo is so warm. 

And when he presses a fleeting kiss on top of your head it’s like everything is falling in place; the months of pining and yearning and unspoken desire. In the midst of a snowstorm both of your hearts are set ablaze, with a tenderness you haven’t experienced in this lifetime before. You sure hope he will find you in the next and the one after that as well because you never want to miss his embrace ever again. 

“That’s my spot,” you murmur and Kuroo laughs, the kind with his head tilted back and his chest rumbling. His grip around you tightens and he pulls you impossibly closer, till you’re really in his lap now, your head tucked under his chin. 

“Damn right it is.” 

You can feel his heart drum, or maybe it’s your own that’s doing somersaults–either way, it’s the same rhythm, a steady thrumming and rattling, begging to be felt. Time seems to freeze at this moment and you’re both quiet. Cat’s got your tongue. Kuroo has both arms around you now, and one of his hands settles on your waist, at the part where your sweatshirt is bunched up a little. His thumb draws small patterns against your bare skin, his touch featherlight and gentle.

You lift your head, only enough so you can catch his gaze. For the first time in your life you understand what it means to have your heart in your throat, because he takes your breath away with a simple glance. His other hand comes to rest against your cheek, cupping your face softly while his grip around your waist tightens a fraction.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he mutters and you can see his sharp teeth flash in the corner of your eyes when he laughs. 

“Like what?” “You know what.” “I think I’ll need to have it spelled out for me.”

He laughs again and this time he leans in closer till his breath is fanning over your skin and everything is happening all at once. Honey and caramel eyes asking you to drown in them. The heat of his body mingling with yours. Your fingers playing with the shaved part of hair in the back of his neck, sending small shivers down his spine.

“Oh, I’ll spell it out for you alright.”

Kuroo kisses you with all the gentleness of the world. It feels as natural as if he had done this countless times before, as if he had kissed you in every life prior to that. He hums into the kiss and smiles when your lips part for him so willingly, and then he deepens the kiss in a way that makes you forget your name for a heartbeat or two. 

Sweet, you think. Soft and saccharine. And warm. So warm. The same what loving Kuroo feels like.

[b1xi]

───𝘊𝘜𝘗𝘐𝘋───ハイキュー!!

Haikyuu(ハイキュー!!)x fem!reader

Word count:3887

𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

Author's note: Lili means lily in Latin. I'll explain why I called her that in the next chapter.

“Ahh, I’m so exhausted,” Hinata exclaimed, letting out a long sigh as he walked beside you. His steps echoed softly against the asphalt, a contrast to the calmness surrounding you both.

“Sometimes you push yourself too hard,” you commented, adjusting the bag on your shoulder. Then, you reached out to adjust Hinata’s bag as well, the one you had insisted on carrying. Despite his initial protests, his exhaustion had finally won, and he accepted with a grateful smile.

The walk continued in comfortable silence. Finally, the two of you stopped in front of your house. The warm light of the sunset bathed the surroundings, casting long shadows and painting the sky in shades of orange and pink.

“See you tomorrow,” Hinata said with his usual enthusiasm, turning slightly to leave. But before he could take another step, your front door swung open.

“Oh, you’re back!” your mother exclaimed, her joy evident. Her eyes lit up as they landed on you, then shifted to Hinata, whose expression went from surprise to a friendly smile in a matter of seconds.

You looked at Hinata, waiting for his reaction. For a moment, he seemed to consider the invitation, but his expression left no room for doubt.

“Yes, ma’am!” he responded cheerfully, his voice full of energy despite his exhaustion.

Your mother nodded, satisfied, leaving the door open for both of you to enter. Hinata carefully placed his bike next to the entrance before stepping inside, quickly taking off his shoes and looking around with curiosity.

“It’s really cozy,” he commented with a genuine smile, as if trying to convey his appreciation for the homely atmosphere.

“Thanks. I hope you like my mom’s cooking—she always makes way too much, so get ready,” you warned as you set the bags aside and joined him.

“Perfect! I’m starving,” Hinata declared, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

Before you could reply, the sound of quick footsteps coming down the stairs caught both your attention. Your sister appeared in the living room in a hurry, clearly about to say something but abruptly stopping when she noticed Hinata.

“Oh?” the redhead muttered, his eyes darting quickly between you and your sister. Surprise crossed his face as he pointed accusingly. “You have a twin! And you didn’t tell me?”

You raised an incredulous brow. “Me? But you were at the practice match against Seijoh. I thought you saw her with me!”

Hinata frowned, trying to remember, but quickly shook his head. “I was too focused on the game! I didn’t have time to notice something like that!”

“Sure, sure,” you replied, crossing your arms with a faint smile. Then, you nodded toward your sister. “Anyway, now you’ve met her. Don’t make such a big deal out of it.”

With that, you turned toward the stairs. “I’m going to change. You two can take the time to introduce yourselves,” you added before heading up quickly, leaving Hinata in the middle of the living room with your sister.

“I’m Hinata Shoyo. Nice to meet you,” the redhead introduced himself with a deep bow, his tone brimming with enthusiasm.

“I’m Y/S/N, but you can call me Lili,” your sister replied, returning the bow with a friendly smile. She gestured toward the living room. “Come on, take a seat.”

As they settled on the couch, Lili added casually, “I saw you play against Seijoh. It was entertaining to watch.”

“Really? Thank you so much,” Hinata responded with a bright smile, clearly flattered by the compliment. He fidgeted slightly on the couch, swinging his legs with energy before asking, genuinely curious, “Hey, why don’t you study with Y/N? I always thought twins did everything together.”

Lili let out a light laugh, crossing one leg over the other as she looked at him with amusement. “It’s a common idea, but it’s not always like that. We have different interests and schedules. Besides, I think it’d be chaos if we were together all the time.”

Hinata tilted his head, thoughtful as he processed her response. “Hmm... I guess that makes sense. Do you like Aoba Johsai?” he asked, his tone curious and genuine.

“Yeah, the school’s pretty good,” Lili replied with a smile, getting up from her seat with an easy grace. She walked over to the cabinet by the TV, opening one of the drawers naturally. After a few moments of searching, she pulled out a deck of Uno cards and held them up in front of Hinata. “Wanna play?” she offered, her gaze filled with a friendly challenge.

Hinata’s eyes lit up instantly, and he leaned forward on the couch. “Of course! But I warn you, I’m very competitive,” he replied, accepting the cards with enthusiasm.

Lili chuckled softly as she returned to the couch, shuffling the cards skillfully before dealing them. “Perfect. I love a good challenge,” she said, her tone firm yet playful.

“Uno!” Lili exclaimed with clear excitement, her voice ringing out from the living room.

The sound of her victory made you walk quickly toward them, and just as you entered, you saw Hinata dramatically slump over the back of the couch with a look of utter defeat.

“What!? Again!?” the redhead protested, throwing his pile of cards onto the table with a mix of disbelief and frustration.

“You’re really bad at this,” Lili commented, resting her elbows on the table and looking at him with a victorious smile. Then, noticing your presence, she straightened up a bit. “Finally! You took too long upstairs. Come, play with us,” she invited, motioning to a spot on the couch beside them.

You opened your mouth to respond, but your mother’s energetic call from the kitchen interrupted you: “Dinner’s ready! Y/N, help your sister set the table.”

Lili rolled her eyes lightly, standing up with a mix of resignation and grace. “Looks like the game will have to wait,” she said, quickly gathering the cards.

Dinner started swiftly and efficiently, as if it were a perfectly rehearsed family ritual. Carefully, you helped your mother place the dishes on the table, ensuring everything was in its place. Hinata settled next to you, while Lili took her seat across, with your parents at the heads of the table.

“Enjoy your meal!” echoed in unison before the sound of cutlery began filling the room.

Hinata, with curious and bright eyes, stared at the dish in front of him. The mix of exotic aromas seemed to capture all his attention. Finally, he took a bite, and his expression immediately changed, lighting up with pure satisfaction.

“Ma’am, this is amazing!” he exclaimed, practically melting into his chair with delight after the first bite.

Your mother smiled with a rare hint of pride. “I’m glad you like it, Hinata. Don’t hesitate to ask for more once you finish your plate,” she replied, leaning slightly toward him with a warm gesture.

You watched the scene with a mix of amusement and resignation. Really? She’s never looked at me like that when I tell her I like her food, you thought, taking another bite.

Hinata continued praising every bite with contagious sincerity, his words almost poetic in their devotion to the flavors unfolding on his palate.

Your mother, visibly pleased, sat up a little straighter with each compliment. Her smile was wide and radiant, as if the redhead’s praises were the highest recognition she could receive.

Lili, not missing the opportunity, joked through her laughter: “Shoyo, if you keep this up, you’ll end up adopted by this family.”

Hinata didn’t miss a beat, leaning forward slightly with an enthusiastic grin. “Really? That would be amazing! I could eat this every day,” he replied, without a hint of sarcasm, his tone as lively as ever.

His response drew a round of laughter around the table. Even your father, usually more reserved, let out a quiet chuckle as he shook his head.

The sharp sound of the whistle echoed once again across the field, signaling the end of another round of jogging under the scorching sun. The occasional breeze barely did anything to relieve the suffocating heat that enveloped them. Although you were grateful to be outdoors, the heat seemed inescapable, and every step felt like a greater challenge.

“Come on, ladies, don’t fall behind!” the coach bellowed, his authoritative tone bouncing off the pavement as he pointed emphatically at you and Nayuta, who had slowed their jog to a lazy pace.

“This damn fat bastard…” your friend muttered, pushing the sweat-drenched bangs from her forehead as she shot an irritated glance at the coach. “And look at that idiot,” she added, pointing to Hinata, who was running with boundless energy and a smile that seemed immune to exhaustion. “Always so cheerful, it gets on my nerves.”

“How the hell does he have so much energy in this heat? It should be illegal,” you added, using your hand as a visor to block the sun that was burning your face.

The whistle blew again, this time signaling the start of the much-awaited five-minute break. With timing that seemed rehearsed, you and Nayuta made your way to the nearest bench, conveniently positioned under a generous shadow. Hinata was already there, with his trademark carefree demeanor, enthusiastically drinking water.

You didn’t bother looking for another spot; you simply collapsed heavily next to him, letting your head rest on his lap, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Hinata, surprised at first, just let out a brief laugh before going back to hydrating.

“You know there’s an entire bench for you, right?” he joked, glancing down with a mix of amusement and resignation.

“I’m too tired to bother finding another spot,” you replied without lifting your head, closing your eyes as you tried to catch your breath.

Nayuta, unfazed, sat at the opposite end of the bench, casually lifting your feet and placing them on her lap while she unscrewed her water bottle. “One of these days, you’re going to become a total burden,” she said sarcastically, though her tone didn’t hide the underlying friendship.

“I already am,” you responded with a weak smile, stretching slightly as the exhaustion began to ease thanks to the shade.

“I hate this subject,” Nayuta said spontaneously, dropping her empty water bottle next to her feet. No sooner had she finished speaking than the whistle blew again, causing her to clench her fists and mutter a couple of inaudible curses.

“Everyone to the field! The one who completes the most laps will earn three extra points,” the coach announced with a mix of enthusiasm and authority. His statement was enough to grab everyone’s attention, and they quickly started stretching and preparing for the next round.

Despite your exhaustion, you knew you couldn’t afford to ignore this opportunity. Those points were crucial for maintaining your perfect average, and even though the idea of walking again tempted you, you refused to compromise your academic record for a simple gym class.

Following Hinata and the others’ example, you began doing your warm-up exercises. You watched as the redhead stretched his arms and legs with unstoppable energy, while Nayuta, though less enthusiastic, also got ready. Finally, the screech of the whistle marked the start of the competition, and your legs moved almost on their own, pushing you forward.

At first, you pushed yourself as hard as you could, trying to keep up with the pace. However, it didn’t take long before you realized that even your best effort wasn’t enough to catch up with your classmates. Nayuta, who had been complaining just a few minutes ago, was now running a few meters ahead of you, throwing you a mocking glance over her shoulder.

The sun seemed to have increased its intensity, and every step felt heavier than the last. In the distance, you could see Hinata leading the group, his small yet dynamic figure moving with an agility that seemed unreachable.

“How does he do it?” you thought as you tried to maintain your pace. However, despite the fatigue, the thought of those three extra points kept pushing you to move forward, even though each stride reminded you just how much you hated this class.

Finally, you stopped beside the coach, bending forward as you rested your hands on your knees and tried to catch your breath. Your heavy breathing seemed louder than the murmur of your classmates in the background. With your forearm, you wiped the sweat from your forehead, leaving a stain on the fabric.

“Two laps in fifteen minutes,” the coach said in a neutral tone, jotting it down on his clipboard. He looked up and added, with a slight smile, “Well done, Y/N. You earned the points.”

“Thanks,” you managed to say between gasps, slowly straightening up. Though you were exhausted, the satisfaction of completing the challenge gave you a small spark of pride.

You walked toward the exit, where Nayuta and Hinata were waiting with your belongings. Nayuta was the first to speak, clearly enjoying the moment. "Congrats, you lasted less than last time," she commented with a mocking smile, handing you your water bottle.

"Don’t be so hard on her! At least she finished the laps," Hinata intervened, smiling with his usual energy. "And those extra points are yours. That’s what matters, right?”

You looked at him, assessing whether his words were genuine or just a way to minimize your suffering, but the sincerity on his face was enough to calm you down a little. You sighed, letting your shoulders slump.

"I guess you’re right... but I still hate this class," you admitted, which caused both of them to laugh.

Together, you started walking toward the locker rooms, the breeze now cooler, carrying away the weight of exhaustion.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. You quickly gathered your things, avoiding any distractions. With a brief smile, you told Hinata you'd catch up with him later in the gym before rushing toward the music room, eager to enjoy that space you had claimed for yourself.

When you arrived, you gently pushed the door open, and the silence of the room enveloped you like a warm embrace. There was the grand piano, imposing and elegant, waiting for you. You carefully took the sheet music from your folder, placing it on the stand. You sat in front of the instrument, letting the softness of the seat help you focus as your fingers grazed the keys with reverence.

You took a deep breath and began. At first, the music flowed easily. Your fingers glided gracefully, almost as if the piano and you shared a secret language. Each note resonated with precision, filling the room with melodies you had practiced mentally for weeks.

However, as you moved forward, the familiarity began to fade. The next notes, which you had memorized so diligently, seemed hazy in your mind. You stopped for a moment, letting the sound of the last note fade into the air, while your fingers trembled slightly on the keys.

You frowned, closing your eyes to try to visualize the sheet music in your head. You took a deep breath, remembering the long hours you had dedicated to this piece. "I can do this," you whispered to yourself, as if the piano could hear your determination.

You placed your hands back on the keys, determined to try again. This time, you chose a slower rhythm, focusing on each movement, as if you could imprint each note in your memory more clearly.

However, frustration began to set in. "Stupid, stupid," you murmured in your native language, silently chastising yourself. The practice time was almost over, and you hadn't managed to get past the middle of the piece. It was as if your mind refused to process the remaining notes, blocked by an invisible barrier.

"God!" you exclaimed, letting out your frustration with a sudden strike on the keys. The dissonant echo of the sound filled the room, but before you could react, the lid of the piano fell sharply onto your fingers.

The pain was immediate and sharp. You mustered all your strength to keep from screaming, but you couldn’t prevent a groan of pain from escaping your lips. "Auh... auh..." you murmured as you pulled your injured hand away and held it against your chest. You gently massaged your fingers, now red and showing the first signs of bruising on your skin.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the burn and hold back the tears that threatened to spill. You looked at your aching fingers, frustration mixing with the physical pain that seemed to mock your efforts. "Perfect," you whispered sarcastically, as if the universe had decided to pile on to your already complicated practice.

Finally, you stood up from the seat, gathering the sheet music with a mixture of resignation and frustration. With a sigh, you closed the piano more carefully this time, making sure not to make another mistake. When you picked up your phone, you noticed the timer still showed three minutes remaining. You turned it off with a quick motion, as if doing so could silence the disappointment you felt.

You walked silently toward the gym, letting the echo of your footsteps accompany you. As you got closer, the familiar sounds began to fill the air: the squeak of shoes on the floor, the rhythmic bounce of the ball, and the lively voices of the players.

"You’re late," Coach Ukai commented as soon as you crossed the door. His tone was more of an observation than a reproach, but it still made you feel guilty.

"Sorry," you apologized, leaning your back against the wall near the entrance. Slowly, you sank down to sit on the floor, feeling the weight of the day's exhaustion on your body. "Just give me a moment," you asked quietly.

Your legs, still sore from the physical activity that morning, seemed to tremble under the weight of exhaustion. Added to that was the burn and sharp pain in your fingers, which throbbed as if they wanted to remind you of your earlier recklessness. You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to regain your composure and gather strength for the rest of the day.

The cold of the floor provided temporary relief from the fatigue that coursed through your body. Using your backpack as an improvised pillow, you curled up on your side, turning your back on the activity echoing in the gym. You closed your eyes, hoping that the growing headache would subside, at least enough to let you enjoy a few minutes of peace.

Without warning, something gently hit your back. It was the ball, which had rolled off the court. With a resigned sigh, you slowly turned around, extending your hand to pick it up. Just as your fingers touched the rough, worn surface of the ball, another hand landed on it at the same time.

The sudden brush of his hand against yours surprised you, but what really caught your attention was the way Tsukishima focused on your bruised fingers. His usually indifferent expression took on a hint of mild concern as his long fingers wrapped around yours with an unexpected gentleness.

"What happened to you?" he asked in a neutral tone, though the way he raised an eyebrow suggested some curiosity. His golden-brown eyes moved between the reddish and purple marks that stained your fingers, as if he were trying to decipher the story behind them.

The gesture was unexpected, almost surprising, and for a moment, you froze, feeling his thumbs trace small circles on the purple marks that adorned your hands. Despite trying to stay calm, a slight tremor ran through your body, and you cursed yourself for showing such an obvious reaction.

"Just a little accident, nothing serious," you confessed, trying to downplay it.

"Nothing serious, huh?" His voice was lower now, as if he were evaluating every word that came out of your mouth, every facet of your behavior. The sarcasm, so typical of him, had faded, replaced by a curiosity you couldn't tell was genuine or just part of his fake concern.

You looked away for a moment, feeling the pressure of his gesture on your hands, as if he were waiting for you to say something more. But when you didn't respond immediately, Tsukishima sighed and, with a casual motion, slowly withdrew his hands from yours. However, the sensation of his touch lingered for a moment, as if he had left an invisible mark on you, much deeper than any visible bruise.

"If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine," he said, returning to his usual tone. "But you should probably put some ice on it." He then stood up, grabbed the ball, and went back to the court.

You watched Tsukishima walk away, the sound of the ball bouncing on the floor accompanying his steps. A light confusion took over you as you watched his figure move further. The way he had behaved with you didn't match the image you had of him until now. Not that he had never been polite, but that softness, that implied concern he had shown, was a new nuance you didn’t know how to process.

Your mind began to wander, searching for an answer that simply wouldn't come. "What’s gotten into him?" you thought quietly. The question hung in the air, an unease that clung to you as you tried to make sense of that interaction, so out of place.

The fact that he had suggested something as simple as ice, that small show of care, left you strangely unsettled. "Polite, yes... but this goes beyond that," you thought. You weren't sure whether to feel grateful for the gesture or suspicious.

You refocused on the pain in your fingers, gently massaging them with your fingertips, mimicking the gesture Tsukishima had made. Despite the discomfort of the situation, part of you had felt relief when he did it; that subtle pressure had released the tension that had built up. "It felt better when he did it." However, realizing what you were thinking, surprise washed over you, and you quickly pushed the thought out of your mind.

"What am I saying?" you scolded yourself silently, quickly opening your eyes as if you wanted to immediately clear the confusion that had overtaken you. The discomfort grew inside you, a knot in your stomach that you couldn't ignore. Not only had you focused more on the feeling of relief than the actual pain, but you had started to think about Tsukishima in a way that was not only unexpected but uncomfortable.

Shifting your gaze toward the ceiling, you tried to calm yourself, taking a deep breath. "It's just the exhaustion," you told yourself, looking for a logical explanation for your body's inexplicable reaction. It could have been the accumulated fatigue of the day, or maybe the fact that you'd never received such a considerate gesture from him.

You stood up with determination, deciding to leave behind that strange sensation and the procrastination that threatened to creep into your mind. You walked over to Coach Ukai, who was watching the players on the court, and sat next to him on the bench, making an effort to appear calm.

"Are you okay?" the coach asked, his gaze attentive, perhaps noticing something in your demeanor. His voice sounded concerned, but not probing.

"I'm great," you replied with the most natural smile you could muster, giving a thumbs-up in an exaggerated gesture.

[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

[stunie]

“NEEDIN’ A RIDE REAL, REAL BAD!!”

HAIKYUU + THIGH RIDING ᯓ⭑ ft. bokuto koutarou, daichi sawamura, kuroo tetsurou, miya atsumu, sakusa kiyoomi, & ushijima wakatoshi x f!reader

contains : explicit smut (18+), thigh riding / dry humping, phone call (keep quiet n ride!), risky sex / very mild: cw exhibitionism, squirting, teasing, praise, kissing <3, hair pulling (you to them), orgasm denial, usage of pet names — 2.9K WC

note : yayya my first haikyuu post on here ! this is my response to this thirst here ૮꒰˶˃ ^ ˂̵˵꒱ა hope u all have fun reading this <3

KUROO TETSUROU.

“Whoa whoa,” Kuroo coos through a breathy chuckle, big hand wrapping around your hip to hold you still against his thigh. “Easy now, pretty thing. Let’s pause for a second, okay?”

The sound of your protests and whines almost make him cave right off the bat. “…Tetsu..” you sulk, corners of your lips curling into a sad pout even when he gives you an apologetic smile before he’s jutting his thumb to gesture at his phone, the irritating melody of his ringtone repeating itself as the screen lights up, “Incoming call from: Kenma!” displayed across the top.

“Sorryy,” he huffs. “Can’t. This one’s important.”

He’s giving you a reassuring squeeze around your hip, a silent reminder that he’ll give you everything you need in a few minutes, but you’re not having any of that. Your arms come to stubbornly wrap around his neck before he can pick up the call, sugar sweet voice already making pleas only a second later.

On any other given day, you would have let him take the call with only an irritated huff— just not today. Not with the way you can already feel your orgasm running away from you. “P-please, please Tetsu,” you sob, “I was so close. Can’t wait any longer.. please?”

His eyes are widening a bit at the unfamiliar desperation in your voice, grunt slipping out when his cock reacts to it too, twitching and slapping against his stomach— a reoccurring habit that seems to only occur whenever you give him that needy little look of yours.

“Awww,” he whispers, and you barely catch the strain in his voice. “Well I’m sorry for ruining your moment, angel.”

You’re practically purring as soon as you feel his hand come to lightly cup your jaw, immediately melting into his touch as he smiles in response. “Ah— fine,” Kuroo caves as soon as he sees your hands coming to cutely hold his wrist in place. “Guess i can’t stop you if you need it so bad. But listen here..”

His thumb moves from your jaw, digit pressing into your bottom lip to angle your face at him. The look you’re giving him is just to die for, pouty lips soft against his thumb and you’re peering up at him through those pleady eyes— as if there was even a single chance that Kuroo would ever deny his pretty girl of an orgasm in the first place.

“Nothing crazy. Deal? Kenma hears and..” he presses a little harder into your lip, watching the way your tongue comes to swipe at the invasive finger. “Me and you? Are never hearing the end of it.”

You’re swiftly nodding as soon as the words register, hands coming to rest on the muscles of his shoulders as you resume your movement the next second, gasping at the way your clit catches against his thigh. “Kenma?” You hear him hum, tucking his phone between his cheek and shoulder— quick and casual.

Maybe too casual.

“Mmm,” his eyes flicker back towards you when you take in a sharp inhale. “So it’s about that. You sure you don’t wanna meet up to go over it?”

A loud gasp slips out from you when he abruptly grabs you by your waist, and your hands slam over your mouth, Kuroo tensing beneath you. “…Hm? Yeah, I’m listening.” He chuckles, regaining his composure in an instant as he starts to rock you back and forth against his leg— and fast.

The roughness has your face contorting, nails digging deep into his shoulders as you try and resist the strong hands guiding you back and forth— try and slow him down a bit, delay your oncoming orgasm by even second if anything at all. You hadn’t expected it to come back so fast, and.. you both knew good and well that you weren’t gonna be able to stay quiet.

You give him a look, something resembling your best attempt at a glare, but he’s ignoring it— casually chatting with kenma about something you can’t quite catch. You’re only left to bite your lip, eyebrows deeply furrowed as you desperately fight the knot tightening inside your belly, thighs clamping against his own as he flexes his quad straight into you.

“Oh,” Kuroo says, hand leaving your waist to pick up his phone again, finger hovering over the ‘mute’ button, and your body is falling limp onto his chest, hands balancing yourself on him as you peer up at him through tired eyes and a heavy pant. “Actually..”

“..Looks like I got a bit of a problem to take care of here first.” He smiles. “So give me a minute, yeah?”

MIYA ATSUMU.

“Gonna have to keep that pretty voice of yours down.” Atsumu’s lips brush against the shell of your ear, big hands tight around your hips as he drags you up and down his thigh. “Or ‘Samu’s gonna hear ya.”

Your hips stutter against his leg, drawing a sharp gasp from you- and he curses under his breath. Osamu would be back any second now, and yet he’s got you seated on him, your lounge shorts pulled to the side so he can draw one quick orgasm out of you before the three of you head out for dinner.

Because you— Atsumu’s impatient lil bunny, or so he calls you, just couldn’t wait until after the dinner to get a quick treat.

“‘M trying.” You whisper, voice breathless and whiny, and you tighten your embrace around his middle, burying your face deep into the fabric of his sweater. “Feels ‘s good… so good— need more..”

“I know, I know— later, yeah?” He sounds unsteady from how roughly he’s moving you against him, muscles of his thigh flexing and hardening underneath you. “Gonna give it to ya real good. stuff ya nice and full. How’s that sound, dirty girl?”

You want that.

You know exactly how easy it’d be for him to get you gushing underneath his cock if it weren’t for your insistence on him not cumming. And well.. it kind of made sense to him— considering how your last creampie went. His mind thinks back to how you looked with his cum dribbling down your thighs as you nervously clamped them together, and how no one seemed to noticed the juices dripping into a neat little puddle beneath you.

It’d be so easy— he’s got you all mapped out and knows you like the back of his hand. He could just push those pretty thighs of yours up to your face, hold them nice and still as he pummels the deep spot inside you that has you chanting his name over and over, and your cunt would be gushing right after that.

“‘Tsumu.” You choke out, tightly latching onto him like a koala, “‘M gonna cum..!”

“You are, aren’t ya? I can tell.” He groans, and his thigh bounces up into you, mumbling a curse under his breath when you squeal at the roughness. “Show me that pretty face when you’re lettin’ go.”

A couple more rolls of your hips and you’re gasping and stuttering against him, Atsumu pulling you just right against his thigh as your eyes slam shut, knot inside you violently snapping in an instant as you tremble underneath him, your mouth falling open in a silent scream.

“That’s my fuckin’ girl.” His voice comes out deep and breathy, hands tightening their grip on you. “Ride it all out f’ me, rela- oh s-shit.”

Your eyes widen as soon as the sound of footsteps registers in your mind, and your head swiftly turns back to see that Atsumu’s already pulling your shorts back over your cunt, your juices immediately soaking through the fabric as he holds you flush against his chest, big hand cradling the back of your head.

“‘Tsumu..!” You whisper, but he’s shushing you with gentle strokes along the back of your head.

“What, ‘Samu?” he calls out, his mind putting together a silent prayer that his twin was not about to open the door.

His prayers go unanswered.

“You two ready yet?” Osamu’s asking as soon as he flings open the door, the knob accidentally slipping through his grasp, and your door crashes against your wall with a loud thud a second later.

You faintly hear him mutter an “oops” before his eyes are finally falling on you, brow raising at the sight of you clinging tightly onto atsumu as your chest heaves up and down.

SAKUSA KIYOOMI.

“What?” you can feel your concentration falter as soon as the sound of Sakusa’s voice reaches you, and you’re immediately wiping at the frustrated tears that have begun to collect along your lashes. “Can’t cum like that?”

You’re quick to shake your head, and he doesn’t miss the slight tremble to your lips. Cute.

Sakusa had his doubts about this idea of yours from the start. He knows how needy you always get— knows that despite that innocent face of yours, your cunt’s anything but. It’s greedy. Something like this was probably not gonna be able to get you to finish, and he knew that.. but a part of him was just curious.

What he wasn’t expecting, however, was to see you this frustrated. Your chest is rising up and down with each angry pant, arm coming to rub at your nose from the occasional sniffle after being denied orgasm after orgasm.

And him? he’s never felt such a strong ache before. The dark spot on his shorts are a tell-tale sign that he’s been leaking with pre-cum, and he can practically feel it starting to drip down his cock. Neither of you were doing so well, and if he was being honest, he’s on the verge of flipping you over and putting you in a mating press— but the small voice inside him wants to see you come undone on his thighs. Badly.

He’s just gotta see how you look.

“Need your cock, Omi.” You mumble, rising onto your knees to scoot further up, but he’s stopping you only a second later. “Omi? Why..?”

“No.” he says flatly. “You don’t.”

“I do!” You’re protesting immediately after, hands balancing on his shoulders. “Can’t finish without it— ah!”

You yelp when he’s roughly pulling you back down, his quad flexing as soon as your cunt makes contact with his leg. The hands around your hips are tight, and Sakusa’s setting a rhythm only a moment later, keeping the muscles of his legs firm and flexed to better rub against your clit.

“W-wait!” You’re stammering, whining straight into his ear as you frantically latch onto him. He lets you bury your face into the crook of his neck as he works you closer to your high, forcing you into a mind-numbing pace to have you flying right off the edge in a few more seconds.

“You can— don’t fight it.” His voice comes out as a deep grunt, a result of his dragged out attempts at ignoring the borderline painful throb of his cock, and oh- he was so going to take you in a mating press after this. The second you’re finished gushing, he was gonna flip you over and finally rid himself this irritating ache.

“Omi!” You sob, eyes clenching shut as your hips start to stutter, and he can feel you trembling underneath his hands. “Omi.. O-omi— ‘m close!” He only responds by roughly pressing his thigh up against you, thick muscle hitting your clit just right as you choke out a scream, finally gushing all over his thighs.

“See?” He exhales, breath hitching in his throat when your nails dig deep into his back, his hands slowly moving you up and down to ride out your high.

“You can.”

DAICHI SAWAMURA.

“Feeling good, huh? Don’t try to fight it.”

Daichi grunts when you tug at his hair a little harder, face buried deep into his front as you desperately hump his leg. He’s gentle with you, strong hands guiding you up and down his leg, but he’d be lying if he said his patience wasn’t starting to wear thin.

The sweet nothings he’s been whispering into your ear this entire time are starting to sound a lot less like cooing and a lot more like grunting.

He couldn’t help it. He can feel you so so vividly, feel your juices dripping down the sides of his thigh and hear you moaning straight into his chest. You were soaked through and through, and it’s taking everything in him to stay patient and let you have this.

“There you go.” He’s praising you when you grind against him particularly hard, ignoring the way his shorts are feeling painfully tight around his cock. “Just like that— move exactly like that.”

“Daichi,” you whine. “‘M getting so close— feels so good.”

“Yeah?” He exhales deeply, and the way his cock twitches suddenly has him groaning, hands squeezing a bit too hard against your hips as you wince. “Daichi..?”

“Oops, sorry princess.” He’s clenching his jaw, giving you a weak smile as you wrap your arms around him. “That’s my bad. Don’t mind me, okay? Just.. worry about yourself— this is all about you right now.”

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI.

You weren’t as subtle as you thought.

His legs just looked so strong, so perfect to sit on, and you couldn’t help yourself. He didn’t seem to think too much of it when you first sat a little lower than you usually did, straddling his mid thigh as he flipped through another manga that Tendou had lent him earlier that week.

Just subtle movements up and down his thigh was your original plan, but it didn’t take very long for him to catch on.

“What are you doing?” Ushijima’s voice has you jolting from where you’re seated on his left thigh, his gaze now on you and the way you’re frantically waving your arms around in defense, barely able to stammer out a “N-nothing!”

You just barely catch the way his eyebrow raises in suspicion. It has you moving off him the next second, but he’s tossing aside the manga, big and strong hands easily wrapping around your hips to keep you planted on him.

“Don’t leave yet.” He says, stern and flat, but you catch the hint of curiosity swirling deep in his eyes.

The familiar heat of embarrassment is flooding to your face in an instant, and your head hangs low. “S-sorry, Toshi.” You mumble, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. “Your thighs just looked so big, just wanted to… ride them.”

It’s silent.

You work up the courage to snack a glance at him again, now faced with the sight of his head tilted a bit, as if confused by your confession. “B-but!” You continue, mouth already running off on its own. “Forget it, okay? It might be weird— Toshi..?”

It was just one little flex of his quad, one that had the muscle pushing up against your clit, but the way his name rolled off your tongue sounded sinful. You can feel his grip around your hips tightening a bit, and he’s leaning in to close the gap between the two of you.

“Wouldn’t it feel better like this?”

BOKUTO KOUTAROU.

It started off with an accidental brush of his knee against your cunt.

Bokuto had always been eager with his kisses. He had you pinned down on his mattress, body hovering over yours as he moved his lips against your own— and he hadn’t even noticed anything different until he heard you suddenly moan into his mouth. He’s pulling away the next second, eyes wide as he tries gauging your reaction again, bringing his knee back to rub over your cunt. And … just like clockwork, your eyes clench shut and you choke back a gasp.

He swallows thickly.

Only five minutes later and he’s got you seated on his thigh, moving you back and forth with a needy grunt, his free hand squeezing your cheeks as he forces you to look up at him. “Don’t look away, ‘kay?”

“You look pretty— pretty like that. I just wanna see.”

The look on his face isn’t much different from yours. His mouth is slightly parted in desperate pants, deep red spreading across his cheeks at the sight of you feeling good on his leg. He’s swallowing deeply before he takes in a sharp inhale right after, already pussy drunk and his dick hasn’t even touched you yet.

The way your face starts to contort when you’re rapidly approaching your high has him just hoping he doesn’t end up finishing untouched. It’s throbbing— absolutely aching with need and as soon as you start sobbing his name, he can feel his patience shatter into thin pieces.

You let out a loud yelp as soon as your back hits the mattress, Bokuto looming over you with a strained look on his face as he rushes to line his tip up with your hole. “S-sorry.” His voice is just above a growl. “I can’t help it after all. It’s okay though, right? Gonna make you feel good.”