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sunaluv · 1 year

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more "come get your man"❗❗ with some more haikyuu boys maybe but honestly? whoever you want 🙏

i got u 😉

part 1 here

pairings: osamu, atsumu, kuroo

OSAMU

onigiri miya was due to close in the next two minutes. you watched your boyfriend close up the counter from your spot on the stool. you liked sitting in when his shop was empty like this, it felt kinda…domestic.

it triggered your thoughts on the future with the hotter twin (in your opinion), you could see yourself walking down the alter to meet him, eating on the floors of your unfurnished home, him standing behind you whilst you rocked your child to sleep—

“hey samu what should i do with these!” you almost rolled your eyes at the voice shouting from the kitchen.

osamu had explained to you how he hired one of his friends from high school to work for him as a favour. she had just finished getting her degree and was looking for work in the area.

you didn’t mind, you were secure in your relationship so there was no reason to be pissed. that was until you had met her and introduced yourself to her as his girlfriend. like a switch had flipped, she instantly started to openly show her hatred for you behind sugar coated insults and not so subtle faces she made only when your boyfriend was out of sight.

you watched osamu��s chest expand in a deep breath. he ran his fingers through his disheveled hair before flipping his cap back on, pecking your temple before heading to the back. “i’ll go see what she wants then we’ll leave, ‘kay?”

you nodded and packed your bag, leaving your space clear and waiting by the counter for your man.

a whole five minutes had passed. you haven’t heard anything which was a sign that you should go investigate, given that girls record.

“…i thought we had a rule for customers showing up before closing time.” a hushed voice whispered.

“we do, there’s no customers here.”

“so who’s still sat out front, you always do this sam—”

ahem.

two faces looked to your spot at the door opening. one looking guilty, one relieved.

“you ready to go samu?” you asked sweetly. “it’s been five minutes and it’s movie night, you know i’m dying to catch up on our franchise.” you not so subtly bragged.

he breathed out through a chuckle. “of course baby, sorry for the hold up. i’m done here anyways.” he walked towards you, missing the dropped jaw of his employee.

you wrapped your arm around his waist before you left, not before smirking at the red-faced girl who was shaking in anger? sadness? embarrassment? you didn’t care.

your shoulders dropped at the chime of the bell followed by the nights breeze as you began your comfortably silent walk home.

“you’re cute when you stake your claim on me ya know?” osamu flicked your forehead.

“shaddap.” you retorted. “if she doesn’t understand boundaries i’ll set them.”

ATSUMU

atsumu was a textbook example of a frat boy. the parties, the girls, the popularity, the girls.

the only stereotype he’s not playing into is dating the leader of the girls sorority house, and some people felt like he’s doing it all wrong.

“omg hi! welcome to—” the cheery voice dripped upon seeing you at the door. “the boys house, who do you know here?”

the girl you recognised as the sorority house leader shamelessly eyes you up and down, twirling the ends of her blonde hair.

if she was here, the rest of the girls were too. they did everything as a culty pack: traveling, partying and even dating. you always thought it was weird how they were all paired with a frat boy, but you never said anything. maybe to them at least.

they obviously hated you for being a rock in their river.

“i’m here for atsumu,” your brow quirked.

her face hardened before plastering into a plastic smile.

“sorry ya just missed him! maybe if you go to—”

“BABY IS THAT YOU!?” a loud, excited voice belonging to your boyfriend shouted.

looking over her shoulder, you watched his blonde locks fly with the wind as he shoved past the girl who let out a disheartened gasp, and picked you up before picking you up and twirling you around.

“i missed you so much,” his soft lips continuously pressed against your face before pouring all his emotion into one last kiss on your lips.

“i missed you too tsum,” you giggled “i was only gone a week though.”

“a week to long! come i have so much to catch you up on.”

again ignoring the fuming girl who had watched the whole interaction, he damn near dragged you up the stairs past all his frat bros who you made sure to shout a greeting at as you passed.

you could hear the rest of the girls from the sorority comforting the girl who was now crying, talkin bout ‘he’ll come around, you two are destined to be together. but you didn’t care, you knew atsumu knew about his rep as a frat bro and he has explained to you about how much he doesn’t care about the ‘dumb stereotypes’ and ‘he likes what he likes, and thats you’.

“you know she likes you right?”

“does she, i thought the only reason she wants me that bad is so their matchup can be completed…”

“that’s part of it, but i feel like she genuinely likes you…” you trailed.

“hey, hey,” he held your cheeks tuning your focus on him. “i don’t care about all that okay? i’m yours and yours alone”

you nodded, placing your hands over his.

“now,” he pulled out his phone going straight to the photos app “let me show ya all you’ve missed.”

KUROO

“tetsuro stopppp,” the girl who had been partnered with your boyfriend for a science project whacked his arm playfully. “omg girl tell your boyfriend to stop.”

you looked at her, then him, then back at her. “stop being a bitch tetsuro.” you played into her antics, drawing out his name like she did.

“not like that, you don’t need to be mean. it was literally a joke.” she mumbled.

kuroo’s eyes met your rolling ones across the table as he shrugged.

“so what are you guys doing after this,” she asked the both of you, but stared at kuroo.

you had explained how you were going to the mall after, so they should probably finish up so you can make it soon.

“you’re going on a date? that’s so cuuuute, there’s actually this really cute place we saw together when—”

“i’ll be right back. toilet.” kuroo stated tensely, sending you an apologetic look as he saw your panicked expression. the both of you knew what her intentions were.

she watched him leave, all the way until the toilet door closed then she turned to you. “can i be real with you a sec, have a heart to heart you know as a fellow sister.”

she didn’t let you respond before she spoke out. “i highkey think tetsu deserves better, he seems really tense around you and i know your dating or whatever but i feel like i could treat him better. i know him.”

woahwoahwoahwhat.

“no.”

“no?”

“no!” you took a deep breath in, before calling her name. “i know you like him, you haven’t even respected me or him enough to hide it. but if you really loved him or knew him, you would know how uncomfortable he feels with you openly flirting with him while he’s in a committed relationship.”

your words hit her like a truck. “you’re not listening to me,” she reached for your hands across the table which you retracted before she could reach. “he needs someone like me, i’m not trying to diss you but you dress kinda bland, your not in many classes together, he doesn’t even talk about you all that often.”

“i do when you overstep, but otherwise i’m just trying to do my work and leave.”

she turned around to see her dear tetsu, arms folded, hurt look on his face. you knew he didn’t like confrontation, so he must have been feeling a strong type of way for him to talk like this.

“tetsu—”

“kuroo.”

“tetsuro,” she stood up placing an arm on his arm which made him step back. “please just come to me, you know we’ll be good together too…”

noticing your boyfriends drastically increased discomfort, you stepped in. “i think you’ve done enough,” you put yourself between the two of them.

wordlessly, you took his larger hand in yours and left the library. after checking up on him, the two of you decided to have a home date instead.

“thanks for stepping in by the way” his voice came out small.

you squeezed his hand. “anything for you tetsu”

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theauras · 1 year

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are you shitting me

#fuck this im packing my bags #see you never america #gotta go see how big Kuroo’s hand is #……for uh……for a friend…..yea..#auras chatter!<3

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tetsusgoing · 2 years

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New theme...

#the classic red and white that everyone on tumblr uses #red and black are very kuroo colors #maybe ill do red and black when i get tired of this ome #also i know it's terribly incomplete im having an identity crisis and i wanna delete a lot of old stuff #so yeah new everything coming soon #maybe...#i have lots of packing to do so i dont know how soon anything will be #anyways !#💟 kuroo.txt

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levenlike11 · 9 months

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going to the beach with them is insufferable. they love making life a living hell for you. keep throwing water on your face and pushing you into the water, stealing your glasses so you can't see underwater. might also steal your crocs (or any shoes you want!) so you burn your feet walking on the boiling hot sand. did you tell them to pack their own snacks before coming here? yes. did they? of course not. are they still eating all of yours? also yes. annoying you is their full time job and they're committed. but still, they love you too much to let you burn your skin in the sun when you fall asleep, so they put sunscreen on your back and turn the umbrella your way, making themselves face all the sun. they don't mind though, they're definitely aware they tired you out all day so you both deserve it. would also 100% pick pretty seashells with you to make diy jewelry with you later. or bring you cool shaped/colored rocks they found on the shore. told you you were being 'childish' when you suggested to make sand castles but had twice the fun you did while making them. also bragged about their buildings to all the kids on the beach (they're literally the same brain age as the kids sometimes.) buys you your favorite ice cream before waking you up and cleans the ice cream on your cheek by kissing it away. covers your body with their towel if a stranger is staring at you weirdly. also kisses you to show them you're very much taken. if you came with a group of friends, they will definitely want to play beach volleyball and if they keep annoying you, you might just accidentally throw the ball on their back.

suna, atsumu, hinata, oikawa, nishinoya, bokuto, kuroo, iwaizumi (hq) ran & rin haitani, mikey, chifuyu, baji, draken (tokyorev) reo, bachira, kaiser (blue lock) itadori, gojo, toji (jjk) kirishima, kaminari (bnha) and anyone else you'd like!

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amjustagirl · 1 month

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title: to rebuild a home pairing: kuroo x f! reader genre: angst / fluff, post timeskip! wc: 6.8k m.list

a/n: companion piece to the original love knows not its depth, from kuroo's perspective.

Kuroo Tetsuro is doing alright.

He’s deftly juggling the roles life has handed him. His tenth wedding anniversary is coming up. He’s gotten a nice pair of earrings and a reservation at Tokyo’s hottest omakase for you to celebrate. The girls are doing nicely at school - Aiko’s grades are excellent, and Fumiko’s not gotten into any schoolyard fights unlike Bokuto’s trio of sons. His bosses seem happy with him too, paving the way for him to climb the corporate ladder rung by rung. He’s earned each promotion by burning days in the office, nights in the izakayas schmoozing with his bosses, but it’s worth it, even if it admittedly comes at the expense of being with you and the girls.

It’s a sacrifice he has to make so he can provide you with the fairytale life he’s always promised you. Not that you’ve ever complained about the trade-off.

“She’s the best wife and mom I could’ve asked for”, he tells Kenma, when the former setter asks about you. “I don’t know how she does it.”

Kenma frowns. “You make her sound like a video game character.”

“That’s cos she’s amazing -”

“Kinda sucks that she pretty much has to juggle a full time job and the kids on her own most of the time.”

“She manages perfectly well”, Kuroo enthuses, oblivious to the barb in his friend’s words. “By the time I get home, the girls are in bed, the house is clean, and there’s even a lunch box packed for me each day. She’s a rockstar at work too - should be up for a promotion next financial year.”

“Huh”, Kenma sniffs. “I wonder when she gets a break.”

Kuroo’s too distracted by the round of beers that’s delivered to his table to think deeply about his best friend’s apprehension. When he stumbles through the front door that night, he finds you crouched over the coffee table, frantically typing at your laptop. As expected, the girls are in bed, there’s nothing out of place.

“All good?” he asks you in passing, his mind already filing the tasks on his plate for tomorrow - organising a publicity event jointly held by the JVA and Bouncing Ball Corporation to introduce new national team members, reviewing the proposed budget for this year’s international competitions, popping by the under-19 team to see if there are indeed any promising candidates - he’s already one foot in the bedroom, ready to call it a night.

He doesn’t notice the violets blooming under your eyes.

“Mm.” You don’t look up. “Have a good night.”

Kruoo Tetsuro thinks he’s doing alright.

Bokuto Kotaro, for some reason, doesn’t think so. “Mitsuki said you’re lucky you’re not married to her cos she’ll skin you alive”, he informs him, as if Kuroo shares his love for women capable of chomping his head off in one bite.

Maybe the Bokutos operate on a different metric - because yes, they’re the model of egalitarianism with Mitsuki the high powered general counsel for Kenma’s Bouncing Ball Corporation (based on his referral, he likes to add, cos’ it’s funny to watch Mitsuki growl) and Kotaro the part time coach, full time stay at home dad to his wolfpack of sons, but that doesn’t mean his marriage is on the rocks.

As a child, he was the unwitting witness to his parents’ fights, which culminated in his mother walking out of the door, his father crying over a thick stack of divorce papers. His grandparents took him in, gave him stability and love and comfort but he swore to himself he’s never going to put his daughters through that.

Sure, it’s been a while since you’ve had a night to yourself. The last time he remembers you taking time away from the girls was to go out for dinner with him to celebrate his latest promotion - his conscience stings a little that he can’t remember the last time you’ve taken a break from everything you’ve been doing for him and the girls, but he’ll make it up to you once he has time. You always understand.

Still, just to be sure, he checks in on you again.

“You alright?”, he reaches for your hand, when he climbs into bed that night.

You’re lying in bed. He should find it odd that you’re still awake at this time of the night, staring up at the ceiling as if there’s something to be found there, but he falls asleep in the slow seconds, doesn't hear your response. When he wakes, you’ve already taken the girls to school. He gets himself ready for work, loops his tie around his neck, grabs his briefcase and the bento you’ve so lovingly packed for him, and hops on the train. He runs through his routine like clockwork, but there’s a niggling feeling that he’s missed something important, possibly something to do with you.

Did you say something to him last night?

It doesn’t matter. He makes a mental note to purchase a spa day for you - but that’s promptly forgotten when he’s greeted by a flood of emails and an invitation from his boss to go out for drinks that night.

Kuroo still thinks he’s doing alright.

“You’re lucky”, his boss toasts him. “Your wife doesn’t complain like mine when I go out drinking, even though I tell her I need to do it for work.”

“She’s an angel”, Kuroo replies, quietly bursting with pride. “Never complains.”

“Lucky man”, his boss says. “My wife is such a nag.”

He misses the last train home that night, drops you a text not to wait up and stumbles around Shibuya trying to find a cab. It must be a busy night because by the time he manages to flag down one, it’s three a.m. and his head is pounding from the excess of alcohol and lack of solid food and water. He fumbles with his keys, almost falls through his front door when the lock gives way. “Tadaima”, he says out of habit, too-loudly, before his stomach lurches and he has to make a mad dash for the kitchen sink.

“Tetsuro?”

He wants to respond, but he’s too busy emptying out the contents of his stomach. He shouldn’t have woken you up. He shouldn’t greet you with a mess for you to clean up. He shouldn’t lean so heavily on you that you stagger beneath his weight.

He shouldn’t do all of that yet he does so anyway. You tuck him, a grown man, into bed.

Tomorrow, he’ll apologise. Tomorrow, he’ll make it up to you.

Tomorrow comes. He wakes up.

You’re gone.

Kuroo Tetsuro is not alright.

He’s ashamed to admit that he doesn’t even notice you’ve taken off until it’s way past lunch when your mother drops him a text to ask if he’s picking up the girls or if he intends to leave them with her overnight.

“What d’you mean?” he texts her, confused.

His heart stops when your mother responds to say you dropped off the girls at her place without much of an explanation, an overnight bag slung over your shoulder. You don’t pick up your phones, his calls going straight to voicemail. For the first time in forever, he sheepishly asks his boss for urgent leave from work so he can rush home to figure out what’s going on.

You always take your laptop with you, but it’s sitting at home. He knows it’s an invasion of privacy, but he types in your password (his birthday), and your web browser reveals a booking for a ryokan in Hakone, where the both of you honeymooned almost a decade ago. It’s an hour away by train, far too much time for him to sit and stew in his thoughts. He wonders if you’ve become sick of your life with him, whether you’ve found someone new, and by the time he’s reached the ryokan and charmed the receptionist to let him into your room, he’s teetering on the edge of giving into his frustration, entertaining thoughts about yelling at you for being so goddamned irresponsible, cos how could you just walk out on him and the girls -

Until you walk in, thankfully alone.

It strikes him that it’s the most refreshed he’s seen you look in a very, very long time. Your cheeks are glowing, your eyes sparkle, and there’s a spring in your step that he hasn’t seen since you’ve had the girls.

Still, he can’t help but remain a little peeved. “I’ve been calling you all afternoon”, he informs you. “I was worried.”

He immediately regrets his words as he watches the light die in your eyes.

“Were you?”, you ask, as if you were addressing a stranger. “Really?”

“Of course”, he frowns, slowly getting up to approach you, concerned when you start to sway. “You’re my wife and the mother of our girls, of course I care.”

Laughter spills from your lips, an undercurrent of bitterness and contempt that’s threatening to drag you under before his very eyes. “If you really cared, you’d have noticed that your wife is broken”, you tell him between gasps, your shoulders caving in. “I tried fixing myself with a break, but you can’t even give me that.”

He’s starting to realise that things aren’t alright at all. You flinch when he takes a step towards you, an action which stabs him clean through his heart because he’s your husband, your Tetsuro, your person. Tea, then, a neutral offering that manages to calm you down enough to take a seat, even if you’re still shaking, falling to pieces while laughing, laughing -

“Tell me what’s wrong”, he begs. “Tell me what I can do to fix you.”

You take a sip of tea. It’s hot enough to burn you, but you don’t seem to notice.

“I can’t do this anymore, Tetsuro.”

“Don’t say that”, he snaps, his inner child recoiling because he can’t bear to have his girls go through what he went through, wondering if it was his fault, his very existence that caused his parents to split up. “The girls and I need you -”

You don’t seem to hear him.

“Princess”, he falls back on his pet name for you, rusty from lack of use. “Come back to me.”

You’re unmoved, your eyes unseeing, deaf to his pleas. Sip after sip, you gulp down scalding tea, each action jerky, mechanical. Frozen, in an impenetrable placidness that he can’t read. You’re sitting right in front of him but you’re not really there at all.

“Let’s talk when you’re back home”, he finally says. “Have a good break.”

The immature little boy that still lives in his psyche is still unconvinced that it’s a bad idea to drag you back home with him posthaste, but you asked for a break, and it’s the least he can give to you.

You allow him to roll out your futon for you, to swaddle you in layers of blankets as if that would keep you from falling apart any further. As he kisses your forehead to bid you goodnight and goodbye, he feels the brittleness of your bones, the thinness of your skin beneath his palms and he spends the hour-long train ride home wondering how he managed to look away long enough for you to turn into a shadow of your past self.

He goes straight to your mother’s house to retrieve the girls. As penance, he stands at the front door, head bowed, letting your mother yell at him in front of the neighbours for being a useless husband and an irresponsible father. After all, he deserves every word she flings in his face. He’s just thankful that she doesn’t ream him out in front of the girls.

“Where’s mama?” Fumiko mumbles half asleep into his neck. “Want mama.”

He cradles her closer. “She’ll be home tomorrow”, he tells her, hoping with every fibre of his being that that does not turn out to be a lie. Aiko, older and wiser, just stays quiet, so he forces a smile on his face for her sake.

Kuroo Tetsuro is far from okay.

The strain of the day wears on him and he’s sure there are burning emails in his inbox for him to firefight, but there’s a long list of chores to be done in your absence. The girls’ school bags need to be packed (in the case of five year old Fumiko) or checked (for ten year old Aiko), their uniforms to be laid out, the laundry sorted and folded. He barely gets any sleep before he has to hop out of bed to throw together a cold breakfast of milk and cereal that makes Fumiko burst into tears and Aiko’s face droops. By the time he shuffles his two cranky children out of the house and into their respective schools, he’s late for work.

He meets Bokuto and Kenma for lunch since there’s no lunch bento waiting for him in the fridge, though he regrets the decision to leave the refuge of his work desk for the boardroom of Bouncing Ball Corporation when Mitsuki joins them and, sharp-eyed as ever, sinks her talons into him.

“You look like shit”, she says to him as a greeting.

“Thanks”, he grounds out. The girls demanded he work their hair into the neat braids they insisted you always do, so bedhead would have to do for him today.

“I’ve never seen you without hair gel before”, Bokuto marvels. “You look weird.”

“I had a crap morning, okay”, he snaps, biting the head off the karaage fish in his store bought bento, which he resents for tasting worse than those you usually make for him. “So I’m sorry if I look slightly less than presentable -”

“You look like a man whose wife just left him - “

Mitsuki’s just stepped right on the wound he’s tried to keep hidden, festering and bleeding beneath his skin, so like an animal lashing out when it’s hurt, Kuroo slaps the table with both palms and snarls.

“Don’t - don’t fucking say that, okay? She’s just taking a break. She’ll come home.”

He can’t stand to see the shock and pity on his closest friends’ faces. “She’s coming home today”, he repeats softly, almost to himself, as if he’s little Fumiko in need of reassurance that the person she needs most in the world hasn’t just abandoned her. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Perhaps it’s the maturity that comes with fatherhood, because Bokuto is the first to react. “That’s right, you’re gonna be okay”, he soothes, pulling Kuroo into his seat. “Kenma’s gonna call your boss and tell him that you’re gonna spend the rest of the afternoon here to plan some event - “

“Sponsorship for the Under-19 team, done”, Kenma snaps his phone shut.

“Guys, I’m fine - ”

“Pretending everything’s okay isn’t going to help.”

Kuroo deflates. “Thanks, Kenma.”

Shelving his worthless pride to lay bare the situation he’s found himself in, that by neglecting his duties as a husband and father, he’s forced you to the brink of a mental breakdown, bad enough that you’ve left him - temporarily, he hopes. In the span of a few hours, he’s already found himself at his wit’s end, struggling to handle both the demands of the kids and his job, something that he realises he’s left you to bear, alone.

“But I can’t figure out why she didn’t just tell me she was feeling overwhelmed”, he says, pulling at a fraying thread in his shirt. “I would’ve listened. I would’ve done better.”

“She shouldn’t have to tell you to do your part”, Mitsuki waves away Bokuto’s desperate gesture for her not to kick a man when he’s already down.

“But I didn’t know -”

“Y’know, I really can’t stand men like you. You guys are amazing at work, able to anticipate your bosses’ and clients’ needs. At this point, you don’t even need to be told by your bosses to jump, you don’t even ask your clients ‘how high’ - yet, for some reason, you manage to turn off your brain the minute you walk in through the front door at home.”

“Maybe I should ask her for a list of things I can help her with -”

Bokuto claps his hand over Mitsuki’s mouth. “Ehhh..you might not wanna finish your sentence or Mitsuki might really bite your head off.”

Kuroo winces, snapping his mouth shut.

“Maybe you can think of it in a different way”, Bokuto says. “Instead of ‘helping’ her - cos that’s just placing the mental burden on her - at least, I think that’s the term Mitsuki-chan used when she explained it to me -” the affronted lawyer nods begrudgingly, and beaming, he continues - “you gotta do your half of the work!”

“Level up”, Kenma provides, rather unhelpfully.

“Open your eyes and use your brain”, Mitsuki says bluntly, rolling her eyes, though her tone is less sharp.

“Where do I start?” Kuroo asks.

Step one.

He picks the girls up from his mother in law’s place, bears with the lecture that’s awaiting him, and sheepishly asks them what their mama usually feeds them for dinner and breakfast, making a mental note of it. Tonight, he’ll cheat by feeding them gyudon at Sukiya, but he drops by the supermarket to procure the ingredients he needs for tomorrow’s breakfast and a bouquet of pink roses, even though he knows it’s probably too little, too late. He counts himself lucky that Fumiko loves bathtime, only needing supervision to wash and dry her hair, and Aiko’s responsible enough to work through her homework without prompting, but he’s still exhausted by the time they both head to bed.

His job doesn’t end there. Running through the checklist Mitsuki begrudgingly allowed Bokuto to give him, he surveys the apartment, comparing it against the mental image of how everything was before you left it. Toys scattered, to be put back in place. Dust on floor, to be vacuumed up. A heap of laundry in the basket, to be hung, dried, ironed.

Just as he finishes all these tasks, the front door swing opens.

“Tadaima”, you call out, voice hushed.

He nearly trips over his feet in his haste to relieve you of your luggage, usher you into a seat by the kitchen counter. “Okaerie”, he breathes,

“The girls?” you ask.

He’ll buy Bokuto lunch next time. “I picked them up from your mom”, he responds. “Don’t wake them up, I just put them to bed.”

You peek into their rooms nonetheless. “Thanks”, you say, heading next to the fridge. “By the way, I’ll pay you back for the hotel room from my own money, don’t worry.”

That’s the last thing on his mind. Besides, his sin is being a neglectful husband, not a miser. “It’s fine, I’ll cover it”, he scratches his head, embarrassed that you’re even bringing it up. “I should’ve realised you needed a break.”

That makes you frown, but you accept anyway. He watches you stack bread, eggs, ham, cheese, and it strikes him that you’re already worrying about the girls’ breakfast when you look as if you haven’t even had your own dinner.

“You haven’t had dinner?” he asks.

You reply carelessly that you’ve had a bento on the train back. You don’t even bother to look at him.

“I’ll take the girls in the mornings from now”, he tells you. “Sleep in and take a break.”

That gets your attention.

“Really?”

He plasters a confident smirk on his face to reassure you that he’s got it all in hand.

“Oh”, you’re adorable when you’re confused, but he hates that he’s given you reason to doubt him. “Wake me up if you need my help?”

“I won’t”, he promises.

It’s time for him to level up.

Step two.

He’s not going to lie to himself that he finds it difficult to do even half of what you used to do. Taking over the responsibility of wrangling the girls out of bed and into school, coming home early enough for dinner with you, that requires him to have hard conversations with his boss about not being able to go out for drinks or come in early anymore which probably hurts his chances for his next promotion, forces him to give up an hour or two of sleep, but it’s worth it if it allows you to heal.

“Don’t expect a gold star for your efforts”, Mitsuki warned him. “It’s just what you should’ve been doing before, so it’s time for you to go above and beyond.”

He takes her words to heart. You deserve to go to work well-rested, to wind down at night with a hot bath. He’ll buy a robot vacuum and pour over its manual that’s thicker than a textbook, do laundry loads while hopping on and off conference calls, wrestle the iron to press down his own shirts.

You seem baffled by the sudden shift in the winds, but he just pretends everything is normal. Business as usual. Things are just as they should’ve been.

In his next push to right his wrongs, he organises a Saturday dinner date with you. The girls are packed off with your mother, he makes the reservation, books the cab, compliments your dress. He asks you about your work (tiring), your boss (a micro-manager), the books you’ve read recently (nada, zilch). In the uphill battle to keep the conversation from being stilted, he makes a fatal mistake.

“We can make it work if you want to quit your job and stay home full time with the children.”

In his mind, that was a reasonable suggestion to make since you seem to hate your job and boss with a fiery passion. But you stare at him wide-eyed, your initial confusion hardening into anger.

“Did the guys at work tell you it’s easier to have a housewife instead of a working wife? Are you saying this because you don’t think I’m a good enough mother to our girls?”

You don’t give him a chance to backpedal, shooting a sarcastic apology for being selfish enough to refuse to be reliant on him, so he just slumps back in his chair in defeat.

“I just want you to be happy”, he murmurs. “Forget I ever said that.”

Step three.

To figure out step three, he schedules an emergency lunch meeting on Monday. The troops convene in Kenma’s boardroom to listen to his sorry tale with Mitsuki in charge of the post–battle analysis.

“And remind me again, where did you two meet?”

His face lights up at the memory of his first meeting with you. “Finance 102”, he replies. “We used to be academic rivals turned teammates after I convinced her I was smart enough for her to work with on projects.”

“What made you fall in love with her?”

“As much as I hate it, I have to admit she’s probably smarter than me”, he says, though the fond smile that creeps onto his face betrays the fact that he loves that about you. “She’s just - her, she’s headstrong and funny. Did I tell you how she tried to stab me with her fork when I stole food off her plate -”

“Only a million times”, Kenma interjects.

“She’s always been independent and ambitious, with big dreams and an even bigger heart.”

“Well”, Mitsuki says, adopting the mildest tone she’s used on him this month. “Does that sound like a woman who’d choose to stay home and depend on her husband? Not that there’s anything wrong with being a stay-at-home parent - Koutaro makes my career possible, and I’m the luckiest woman in the world to have him as my husband.”

“Babyyyyy.” Bokuto bawls, looking at MItsuki as if she hangs the moon in the sky.

Gross. Kenma seems to agree. “Let’s get back to Kuroo’s failing marriage”,

“So I shouldn’t bring up the suggestion that she quit her job again?”

His three person council shake their heads in unison. “Just keep what you’re doing”, Bokuto pipes up. “Sounds like you’re already doing the right things! Just gotta keep making sure she’s not holding up the sky herself.”

He can do that.

“And maybe talk to her?”, Kenma offers.

That’s the suggestion that he wants to dismiss right off the bat because he’s too much of a coward to even face the possibility that you might leave him. He doesn’t want to become his dad so he resolves to keep his head down and continue pushing ahead with his efforts to prove to you that he can be the husband you deserve, so you won’t wake up one day and decide to walk out on him again.

But his subconscious fears force his nightmares into overdrive. Dreams of packed bags and stacks of divorce papers makes him yelp loud enough for you to roll over and shake him awake. He’s a terrible husband for disturbing your sleep, but in his sleep-dazed state of confusion he just sinks back into the pillow, exhaling a sigh of relief.

“Thank the gods you haven’t left.”

“Why would I leave?”, you mumble, turning away again. “It’s my home, isn’t it.”

He sits up, rubs the nightmares away from his eyes. “I was afraid you left me.”

The silence nearly suffocates him. The sudden need to know exactly where you stand eats away at him and he crawls towards you. “Are you going to leave me”, he asks, praying to all the gods in the universe that you’ll reassure him otherwise.

His heart breaks anew when he hears a small sob, buried in the bedclothes. “I don’t know, Tetsuro”, you finally say. “I’m tired of being alone in a marriage when it’s supposed to be us working together.”

“I’m sorry.” There’s nothing much he can say.

A broken whisper. “I’m tired”, you exhale. “I think I deserve better.”

“I’ll make it better”, he promises.

He will. He will.

Kuroo Tetsuro is trying his best.

He takes a cooking class on the weekends to learn how to prepare bento boxes that are nutritious and easy on the wallet. He takes over the ferrying of Fumiko to her swimming lessons, work on Aiko’s art projects with her. He hires a part time cleaner to pick up the deep cleaning, so you and he have time to take the girls out on weekend outings instead of spending all day on a week’s worth of cumulated chores. A dishwasher appears in the house. He makes it a game for he and the girls to load and unload dishware each night.

“There’s a networking wine night for finance next Wednesday”, he tells you casually. “I’ll make sure to be home so you can go, if you want.”

You goggle at him.

“Go schmooze so the world knows you’re as amazing as I know you are.”

You trust him enough to leave the girls behind in his care and go. He counts that as a win.

Some nights he still can’t get home in time for dinner, but he always makes sure he’s home in time for a bedtime story and a goodnight kiss. Aiko avers that at the grand old age of ten, she doesn’t need her papa to tuck her to bed anymore, but she sidles into Fumiko’s room everynight and sits in the corner of her little sister’s bed as the littler girl listens to his tall tales.

“I met a princess when I was eighteen”, he says with a grin when he notices you listening in. “Instead of a crown, she armed herself with a fork, ready to cut down anyone who’d cross her.”

His heart skips a beat when he hears your voice from the doorway. “Don’t be dramatic”, you interrupt, a small smile growing on your face. “You were trying to steal my food and didn’t stop ‘til I stabbed you.”

Fumiko huffs, unhappy that her story’s being interrupted, but he can’t seem to tear his gaze away from you. “You left it on the table, princess. I consider that fair game.”

“Let ‘to-san tell the story, ka’san.” Aiko grumbles.

He savours your laughter. It tastes better than the finest wine.

“I can’t believe I have to fly all the way to Italy just to meet Kageyama-kun”, he huffs. “At least Hinata is meeting us there, I’ll revolt if I had to go up to Brazil as well.”

“You know it can’t be helped”, you reply. “The promotional activities planned need your presence, and it’s only for a week.”

“Will you be okay when I’m gone?”

His fears melt away when you hand him his suitcase, a flask of his favourite tea. “I’ve always managed fine. Nothing’s changed.”

His little monsters, realising that he’s about to leave, decide to launch a synchronised attack on him. Aiko throws herself at him in a bear hug. Fumiko yanks at his sleeve demanding a thousand kisses.

“Yes, well. I’ll be home soon. Please wait for me” he says to you when the girls finally release him. The expression on your face is unreadable, but you don’t pull away when he takes the liberty of taking your hand in his.

He feels your heartbeat accelerates. You glance up at him, almost shy. “I’ll see you soon.”

He’s so tempted to call his boss and pretend that he’s too ill to get on that damned flight, but he’s pretty sure that would get him fired. Instead, he calls you and the girls every day, and brings home a luggage full of presents for all of you.

When he’s home, he celebrates by putting on the frilliest pink apron he’s ever seen (courtesy of Yaku, who sent it to him all the way from Moscow as a joke) and throwing an elaborate takoyaki party, replete with customised toppings - octopus, cheese and shrimp, which the girls enjoyed even if he burnt the first batch and had to call Fukunaga frantically for tips to rescue the rest. It turns out to be such a success that he makes it a weekly event. Okonomiyaki is next, which he flips with expert confidence on a hot plate to the applause of you and the girls.

“Itadakimasu”, you clap your hands together. “It tastes good.”

He nearly melts into his pan. “Thank you”, he replies. “It means a lot, coming from you.”

His nights are still plagued by nightmares.

Things are better with you, he likes to think. The violets beneath your eyes are replaced by roses in your cheeks. He hears you humming about the house again. You pick up reading again, the shelves in the house start to groan under the weight of books belonging to the girls and you. You’re as eager as the girls to go on the next adventure, whether it be a summer night out in the park with sparklers, or a nerf gun battle at home on rainy days.

Still, he doesn’t know for sure what he’s doing is enough for you and he’s too much of a coward to check. So he’ll wake up almost every night, fumble in the dark just to make sure you’re there.

You’re there, until you aren’t.

It’s three in the morning. The space beside him is cold and empty.

He throws off the blankets, trips on his bed slippers. He crashes through into the living room and oh, there you are - sitting at the dining table, typing furiously at your laptop while mouthing off to yourself about the ridiculous demands your client makes.

“What’s wrong?” you frown.

He walks towards you, trying to discern that you’re real, you’re there, not some trick of the light..

“You’re - you’re still here.”

You nod slowly, eyeing him strangely. “My boss called and asked me to send out an urgent email. I was just about to go back to bed.”

He exhales, tries to force his trembling heart back into his chest. He thinks he’s doing a good job trying to act nonchalant, smoothing back his frazzled mane of hair, but you see right through him as you always do.

“Tetsuro”, you say slowly. “Is everything alright?

The truth tumbles out of his mouth. “I thought you were gone.”

Then he hangs his head, looks at his feet, afraid that he’ll only see rejection in your eyes. He’s a pathetic failure of a husband who has a decade’s worth of sins to make up for, and there’s no justification for him to selfishly to seek your absolution.

It comes anyway, in the form of soft hands pulling him forward.

“I’m here”, you say, pulling him into your embrace, letting him rest his heavy head in your lap.

He doesn’t allow himself to sink into your warmth. “Are you happier now? Are things better for you?”

“Yes”, he hears you say. The tension he’s been carrying around these few months lifts. “Thank you, Tetsuro. I appreciate it. I really do. You don’t have to work yourself to death - that’s never what I was asking for. If you’re tired -”

He shakes his head at your suggestion. He’s got a long way yet before he earns any reprieve.

“Tetsuro -”

He sits up abruptly, takes your hands in his.

“Promise you won’t leave me”, he pleads. “I know you’ve had to carry what must’ve felt like the weight of the entire world on your own, and I don’t have any excuse for that.”

“You don’t”, you agree.

He accepts the blow but he takes comfort that you don’t pull away. “I know that now. I know now how fucking hard it was to do it all alone.”

“It was hard. It was so, so hard, Tetsuro. I became numb to the pain. I don’t think I was functioning, I haven’t been for a while. For a long, long while.”

“I’m sorry”, his voice cracks.

“I know.” You cup his face in your hands, offers him comfort he doesn’t deserve. “That’s a chapter of our marriage that’s past, that can’t be unwritten. But the past few months have been different. You’ve shown me that you’ve changed.”

The first glimmer of sunlight after a long, dark winter. Hope blooms with your smile.

“I think”, you say. “I think we can make this work again.”

He stares at you, dumbstruck. Then the fact that you’re giving him another chance dawns upon him, and he crashes forward to rest his head on your shoulder, unashamed to cry tears of relief.

“Thank you”, he exhales brokenly. “I won’t fuck this up again, I promise.”

You press a kiss to his forehead, curl up trustingly in his arms. “Don’t thank me”, you laugh. “Thank yourself for making me believe in you.”

He drinks up each drop of your affection, falls asleep in the cradle of your arms.

“Is this what flirting is like?”

He wakes up to Aiko’s impertinent question, her hands on hips looking distinctly unimpressed at finding her parents asleep on the sofa, entwined together.

“Who taught you that word?” Kuroo asks, aghast that his ten year old daughter even recognises the existence of the opposite gender.

Aiko sticks her tongue at him, and he’s too distracted by Fumiko taking a flying leap onto the sofa with them, chattering a thousand miles an hour about what’s for breakfast and whether they can go to the zoo this afternoon - though he pins his suspicions on Bokuto’s trio of sons.

“Monsters”, he says. “Can’t even give your to-san a break to snuggle up to your pretty ka’san.”

The girls shriek in dismay - Aiko, at being a witness to further gross displays of affection between her parents, Fumiko, at being called a monster despite being a self-proclaimed princess. You prod at the soft flesh between his ribs.

“Don’t be mean”, you admonish him.

He sniffs, taking the chance to draw you closer. “I’m cranky in the mornings unless I get a morning kiss.”

You snort, swatting at him. “You make it sound as if kisses contain caffeine.”

The girls giggle, but he protests.

“Full of nonsense”, you tease, but you kiss him, again and again and again.

Things settle into a steady, sustainable pace.

You refuse to allow him to bear the weight of the household on his back alone. There are frank conversations to be had about what each of you can realistically handle without burning out. He leads the charge in the mornings, whipping up breakfast with the aid of his two sous chefs, building an expertise in braiding and french twists that could possibly allow him to moonlight as a hairstylist. You, on the other hand, take charge of evening pick-ups, cooking dinners, supervising homework and art projects until he comes home and tags you out.

Chores are evenly split. He doesn’t allow you to assume the mental load of organising the household by yourself. “We both have a degree in business management”, he likes to remind you, because he now knows that remembering to run errands, scheduling appointments - all of this is work too.

You force him to take breaks. If you get to relax with your friends, so should he. “If you get too stressed, you’ll lose your hair and we can’t have that.” He yelps when he imagines himself bald and obediently complies when you call Kenma up, talk him into getting him and Bokuto and Akaashi (when he’s feeling less morose about his singlehood) to go for a round of pick up volleyball. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself”, you note wryly when he returns home crowing about how he stuffed an Olympic player with a kill block.

“I did”, he replies, catching your hips to pull you in, cheekily ignoring your complaints that he’s sweaty. “But I enjoy coming home to you even more.”

“Gross”, you grumble, but you seem content to remain in his arms.

It’s another small moment he treasures. Life, he learns, is made of moments, both big and small. He’d made the mistake of only focusing on the big ones - graduation, playing at nationals, the day he was lucky enough to marry you, each of his daughter’s birthdays. Now, though, he cherishes each moment, each second he has with you and the girls, no matter how little, no matter how small.

He likes to come into the bathroom each night, leaning his elbow on the edge of the bathtub as you chat to him about your day, luxuriating in the bath he drew for you. You and he take turns to complain about life’s inconveniences as you clear emails once the girls have gone off to bed- colleagues who shirk their work, bosses who nitpick overmuch, washing everything down with steaming cups of herbal tea.

“Are you happy?”, he asks you, night after night.

“Mm”, you say with an impish grin. “I’d be happier if you let me put my toes on your calves.”

“They’re freezing”, he groans but scoots over anyway. “Better?”

“Much better”, you hum, content. “Life is good.”

He’s not remiss in planning the big moments too.

A year passes quickly to your wedding anniversary. He packs your suitcase, books the train tickets and whisks you back to the ryokan in Hakone, though this time he upgrades you both to their largest suite. “I feel like a princess!” you exclaim, twirling about the room.

Your happiness is worth every yen he spent.

You spend the day strolling down avenues lined with cherry blossoms, Mount Fuji looming in the backdrop, the evening exchanging heated kisses in the private onsen he booked. You’re older now, with laughter lines creased into your forehead, grey streaks in your hair, but you’re still the same girl he fell in love with all those years ago.

“And you couldn’t wait ‘til we got back to our room?” you smack him.

He also loves how there’s fire burning bright in your eyes, the way it always used to. “You kissed me first!”

“You kissed me second!”

“I don’t hear you complaining”, he cackles.

You try to shush him, to no avail, as he draws the attention of everyone around him.

“What a happy couple”, an obaa-san remarks out loud. “They must be newlyweds.”

Well, she’s not wrong. You’re as radiant as you were fifteen years ago, his spring bride, but he’s an old man doddering on, hopefully with his edges sanded off with time. “Just your regular old, married couple”, he chortles when you’re safely back in the room.

“A happily married couple”, you reply, serenely sipping your tea. “That obaa-san definitely got that part right.”

There’s a lump in his throat that he can’t swallow. “Are you happy?” he manages to ask anyway.

“With you?” Your smile is warm, bright. Always.”

Both of you are doing alright.

a/n: it's been a while, hasn't it. i've been alright - how are you guys doing?

#kuroo x you #kuroo x reader #kuroo testuro #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff

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millenialfanfictionaddiction · 2 months

Text

Karasuno, Nekoma and Seijoh:

Miss Manager and the Mystery Man

Karasuno x Fem! manager; Nekoma x Fem! manager; Seijoh x Fem! manager

Warnings: jealousy, mostly fluff

AN: this is a request, I kept it kind of generic and mostly platonic

Karasuno

Most chaotic reaction goes to Karasuno 🏆

It happens at nationals

The team is brimming with excitement and nervousness as they prepare to take on Inarizaki

You, on the other hand, are relatively calm

You know your boys and how talented each and every one of them is

There’s no doubt in your mind that they will win

While they stretch, you mindlessly jot down things to remember, stats you want to collect

“YN is that you?” A voice rings from behind you as you turn to see your cousin standing right there

“Omg hi!! It’s so good to see you!” You bellow in excitement as you quickly leap into his arms from a big hug

The team is watching, utterly confused

Why are you hugging this person? Why is this person a man??

They instantly go on guard

Tanaka and Noya are growling low

Suga and Enoshita watch with narrowed eyes

Kageyama isn’t even paying attention let’s be real 😅

Asahi is concerned

Kiyoko is all smiles because she knows who the man is and is happy for you

Hinata looks confused, as does the rest of the team

Daichi narrows his eyes, but decides to approach

“Uhh hey YN, who is this?” He questions, guard up but still giving the stranger the benefit of doubt

Of course, that is before Hinata jumps in and says

“Is this your boyfriend Yn??” He screeches as the entire team stops

Some hold their breath, others just stand there

And some, well some freak out

“Who the heck do you think you are city boy??” Tanaka provinces, getting right into said city boys name

“Some guy who apparently thinks he’s good enough for OUR YN!” Noya shouts, only encouraging Tanaka

Poor Yachi is standing there, no idea how to react

You just stand there, rolling your eyes because of course this is the conclusion they would come too 🙄

You quickly stand in front of your cousin, pushing the two one brained celled teammates back

“This is my cousin! He lives far away and I don’t get to see him often!” You shout

The team instantly relaxes

Daichi quickly grabs Tanaka and Noya, whose mouths gape at the realization and apologizes

“Sorry about this,” he says to you and your cousin

Your poor cousin is probably scared for life 😂

But deep down you don’t mind, you know the team love and care for you

Nekoma

Chillest team? Definitely not 😂

Today was a beautiful day for a run

Of course, your enthusiasm wasn’t shared by all teammates involved

See example 👉🏻 Kenma

But nevertheless the team needed to work on their endurance

Normally you wouldn’t go with them, opting to stay behind and fill water bottles or chat with the coaches

But lev and Yamamoto had been begging you to go so you figured why not

You didn’t exactly hate running (only god knows why) so you thought it would be a great team bonding activity

Per the usual Yamamoto is leading the pack, followed behind Kuroo and Yaku who are silently racing

Kai, Fukunaga, Lev and Inuoka trail behind

And last but certainly not least, is you and Kenma

While you and Kenma run, you talk a little but mostly Kenma tries not to die

Then you see him

As he approaches, you make sure it’s actually him before freaking out

“Omg Hi!” You screech, as Kenma looks from you to the mystery man who is now stopping and smiling back at you

“Hey YN, how are you?” He asks as Kenma continues to stare, taking advantage of the break but still wondering who this man is

Could it be your boyfriend?

By now the rest of the team has stopped and are quietly observing

No one does anything yet, at least not until the mystery man goes in for the hug

“Whoa whoa who the heck do you think you are?” Yamamoto quickly jumps in, halting the man’s movements

“Excuse me?” The man says before stopping and looking at you like you can control these guys 🙄

Then Kuroo and Yaku step up to the plate 🙄 because why not

“This is our manage dude, better back off!” Yaku snarls as Kuroo just smirks

“Yaku don’t be mean to the man, not like he has anything remotely close on us,” Kuroo sneers as the man looks so utterly confused

Kenma is definitely recording this whole thing because he knows something’s up

You just stand there unimpressed

“Guys will you knock it off! This is just my cousin! He lives here but I don’t see him much because he’s in college!” You shout as all the guys freeze

“Cousin??” Some say

“In college?” Others chime

“I’m so sorry about them,” you apologize, “they all share a braincell and it seems it’s not made an appearance yet today!”

Your cousin looks from you to them before speaking, “it was nice to see you Yn, I gotta head out.”

Your cousin quickly jogs away before he has to deal with anymore crap

“Do you guys have one ounce of chill in you?” You grind out

“Sorry YN,” they all say in unison

But you can’t be mad at them for long and soon you are back enjoying your run with your boys

Seijoh

Definitely the most jealous

It’s the interhigh tournament and you are busy filling water bottles for the team

Usually one of the boys would accompany you but coach needed them for a quick meeting

And your an independent woman, you can handle yourself

As you fill, someone comes besides you and taps your shoulder

“Hey Yn, long time no see!” The guy says as your face lights up and you hug him with all your might

You haven’t seen your cousin in ages, despite living in the same prefecture

“Hey how is it going? I see your team made it to interhighs. Congrats!” You say as you carry on a nice a sweet conversation

But that’s not what it looks like from afar

Because you see, a certain second year setter spots you and quickly runs to tattle on you for having any contact with boys outside the team 🙄

“Some guy is hitting on Yn!” Yahaba screams at the team as Makki, Mattsun, Iwaizumi and Oikawa RUN towards you

Mad dog, Watari, Kindaichi and Kunimi are calm about it but still head out to see what’s happening

Before you know it, your engulfed in a squeezing hug by Oikawa who is glaring at your cousin

“My YN back off!” He shouts as Iwaizumi smacks him upside the head

“What are you doing with our YN?” Makki probes as your cousin seems to be completely and utterly confused

“Umm I was just talking with her,” he says as you try and wiggle out of the caged arms of Oikawa

“Just talking?” Mattsun glares as you quickly make your way through the tall players

“He’s my cousin!” You shout as Mattsun, Makki, Iwa and Oikawa all go stiff

In unison they all say, “cousin??” And look back and forth from you to your cousin

“Yes and I was just talking with him about you guys!”

“Awe you were talking about me YN-Chan??” Oikawa squeals as Iwa again smacks him

“I’m so sorry about them,” you say before budding yourself cousin farewell and pushing the team away

“Sorry YN,” they bellow in unison again as you roll your eyes

Try not to be too mad at them Yn 😂

#haikyuu!!#haikyu!#haikyū!!#karasuno #nekoma #seijoh #aoba johsai #haikyu x reader #haikyu x female reader #Karasuno x female reader #Seijoh x female reader #nekoma x female reader #hq x female reader #haikyu fanfiction #haikyu headcanons #haikyu x you #haikyu x y/n #female yn

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suashii · 4 months

Text

HO HO HO !

info ⭑ kuroo x fem!reader ﾉ 0.7k wc ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ reader wears a dress and heels, referred to as wife

requested by @tetzoro for my winter wonderland event!

it’s that time of year when kuroo’s company holiday parties are starting to roll around. he isn’t the type to turn down an invitation but he also isn’t the type to go anywhere without you, which explains how you’ve found yourself in your current predicament.

a frown tugs at your lips as you hold a gold earning in one hand and a silver in the other, raising and lowering both of them to get an idea of which would look better with your dress. the fabric wrapped around you is a deeper red color, burgundy if you had to name it. each time you compare the two pieces of jewelry with the garment, the scale begins to weigh in favor of one over the other.

you can practically hear kuroo telling you, “go for gold,” as you put the earrings in with a small smile.

after a few finishing touches—smoothing down flyaways, spritzing some perfume, fixing your lipstick—you grab your bag and shoes and make your way down to the living room where kuroo is waiting for you.

the christmas music playing over the record grows louder as you descend the stairs and the closer you get to the bottom, the more distinct kuroo’s humming becomes. he isn’t in the living room where you expect to find him, but in the kitchen surveying the cookies for the party that you had told him not to touch. the floor creaks with your approach and his head shoots up like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

though, the look of guilt that paints his face is only temporary. widened eyes are quickly traded for wandering ones, dark amber irises raking over your figure before settling on your own questioning gaze.

“ho ho holy shit you look good,” kuroo announces, leaning against the kitchen island with a grin.

you groan at his lame joke, earning a deep chuckle from kuroo. you should be used to it by now—his corny jokes and cheesy pickup lines. maybe part of you has grown accustomed to it all, but you can’t help but offer up the same unimpressed reaction every time.

you join him at the counter, setting your bag on the surface and situating yourself on one of the stools.

“no good?” he asks, taking your heels from your hand and kneeling down to put them on for you.

you hum in contemplation, poking his chest with your toe. “i guess i’d rather have you use your bad lines here than in public.”

“oh come on,” he looks up at you while clasping the strap of your shoe around your ankle, “it wasn’t that bad.”

you giggle at his defensiveness, holding his cheeks in your hands when he rests his chin on your knees. he softens like butter under your touch and you get the feeling your hands on his face is apology enough for your jab. still, you squish his cheeks and tell him, “thank you for the compliment, tetsu.”

kuroo grins before turning to kiss the inside of your wrist. you pat his cheeks and jerk your head in the direction of the cookies you had decorated before getting ready. “help me pack these up?”

“of course.” he gives you a hand to help you down from the stool and lets you start while he washes his hands.

with festive music filling the air, the two of you store the cookies in tupperware, stacking each bin on top of each other when they’re filled. you’re packing up the last tub now but when you reach for the final cookie, it’s missing from its place on the parchment paper.

you turn to investigate where the treat disappeared to and find it in kuroo’s hand on the way to his mouth.

“hey!” you point a scolding finger at him. “these are supposed to be for the party.”

“what, my wife being the baker doesn’t give me first dibs?” he questions, a confused crease between his eyebrows.

you’re tempted to tell him that his status as your husband doesn’t earn him special privileges but the genuine bewilderment he wears weakens your resolve. it’s a combination of funny and sweet that you can’t bring yourself to say no to.

“fine, it’s yours.” you close up the last tub, short by one cookie than you’d originally planned. “you better be glad i love you.”

he steps behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist and leaning down to plant a kiss on your temple. “i thank my lucky stars every day.”

#[ ❄️ ] — WINTER WONDERLAND !#kuroo x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #kuroo fluff #haikyuu fluff #kuroo drabble #haikyuu drabbles

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noosayog · 7 months

Text

[how a loser dates] ft. kuroo

warnings/content: fem! reader x kuroo, office setting, timeskip characters obvi, fluff and kuroo being a loser

wc: 1.2k

"Morning, princess," your coworker, Kuroo, calls out teasingly from his desk in reference to the dress you're wearing today that replaces your usual slacks.

"Morning, rooster head."

He chuckles a bit and returns his attention to his computer.

Throughout the morning, Kuroo looks up every now and then, just staring at you but saying nothing. It's only later in the afternoon when you're settled down from the rush of the morning that Kuroo asks. "What's the occasion?"

"What?" you ask distractedly.

"The occasion," he repeats. His voice comes from right over your head and you look up to see his desk empty. Instead, he's standing behind you, leaning an elbow against the wall of your cubicle.

"What?" you parrot.

His eyes drift deliberately down your silhouette, then back up to meet your gaze, punctuating his silent question with a raise of his brow.

"Oh," you laugh. "The dress? I have a date tonight."

Kuroo's other brow raises. "A date?"

"Yeah."

“With who?”

You swivel your chair to face him with your whole body. “You wouldn’t know them. They’re not from work.”

He hums in acknowledgment then walks away with a pensive expression.

–

It’s almost the end of the work day when you hear your boss’s reprimanding voice. You look up from your computer to see your boss angrily saying something to Kuroo about losing the data for an important client call tomorrow.

After your boss stomps away, you hear Kuroo sigh. His eyes meet yours.

“You okay?” you ask. “What happened?”

“I was supposed to store the presentation for tomorrow’s client call but for some reason, I can’t find it anywhere on my drive.”

“Did you check your trash?”

“Empty.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah.”

You stare back at him, lips pursed.

“Well…” he says awkwardly. “I better get to it if I’m going to redo the presentation by tomorrow.”

You swallow guiltily, throat itching to offer help. No, you can't. You have plans tonight.

“Okay, good luck,” you say instead.

He deflates. “Thanks.”

Concentration broken, you return to your work. You shift uncomfortably when you hear him sigh.

Five minutes later, another deep exhale.

You can’t stop yourself when you finally ask, “do you want me to help?”

Kuroo perks up, head poking out from the walls of the cubicle. “I mean I would love help, but you have plans and all tonight…” he trails off.

“The reservation isn’t until 7, so I’ll help until then.”

“Great, thanks!” he smiles.

–

Kuroo is an efficient worker. It’s almost as if he had the entire thing memorized as he effortlessly lists off the slides that need to be redone, easily navigating to the resources that have the perfect data for each topic.

“It’s like you don’t even need my help for this,” you joke.

“No!” he interrupts loudly.

You give him a weird look.

“Sorry” he mutters. “Can you summarize the data from these sites?”

He passes you a sticky note with 2 websites on them. When you navigate to them, they’re long, tedious pages. You settle into your chair and get focused. If you’re going to leave here by 6:30, you better get working.

When you finally pass the data to Kuroo, the two of you begin to compile the data you’ve respectively gathered into the proper slide deck format. When 6:30 rolls around, the to-do’s left still make up a massive mountain.

“Um,” you say.

Kuroo takes an exaggerated look at the watch on his wrist. “Oh, your date.”

“Yeah.”

He looks at the progress on the presentation just stares at the screen.

“Kuroo?”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, don’t worry about me. You’ve already helped so much. Go ahead and have fun on your date.”

“Okay…” you say hesitantly, packing up your bag. Before you leave, you look back to see Kuroo, alone in the office, leaning heavily against the back of his chair with his arms draped over his eyes. You hear him sigh again before guiltily leaving him behind.

You make it all the way to the lobby before you can’t stand it anymore. You text your date that you won’t be able to make it rush back up to the office.

Kuroo looks surprised when you drop your things off at your desk and return to his side.

“What happened? Don’t you need to leave?”

“I can’t just leave you here by yourself with all this, you’ll never finish.”

“Are you sure…” he trails off.

“Shut up and get working.”

“Yes, ma’’am,” he salutes.

–

Late in the night, even after security has left the building, Kuroo gets up.

“We need a break,” he says. “Want some coffee?”

“Sure,” you say, equally exhausted.

He gets up to head to the break room as you continue to fiddle around with the slide deck. As you look through his computer, your eyes slide to the little trash can on the screen and see that it’s not empty. Curiously, you click into it and the first thing you see is the very client presentation that the two of you have been slaving away at to reproduce.

“Oh my god, Kuroo!” you say excitedly. You repeat his name, but he must not hear you, because there’s no response.

Then, you notice the time of deletion. 3:52PM. You remember Kuroo getting chewed around 4PM. If he deleted it, there’s no way he would forget that quickly. And he said he had checked his trash.

“Hey, what’s up?” Kuroo comes back, holding two steaming cups of coffee and tie thrown over a shoulder. “I heard you calling.”

“Kuroo,” you say, pointing at the screen.

When Kuroo sees what you’re pointing at, his smile freezes in place.

“What’s this?”

You press when he doesn’t respond. “Why did you purposely get yourself into trouble?”

He stares at the screen, avoiding your eyes.

“Kuroo!”

“Okay!” he breathes. He mumbles something unintelligible.

“... go on your date,” you hear.

“What? Speak up,” you say irritatedly.

“I didn’t want you to go on your date. Okay? I know it’s immature of me to resort to such tactics, but I’ve been dropping hints for awhile and I dunno, I guess I just got impatient.”

You sigh.

“Well, I’m just glad that you aren’t going to be yelled at because there’s no way we were going to finish by tomorrow.”

“You’re not mad?”

“I am. Why couldn’t you have just asked me out on a date like a normal person?”

“I’ve asked you to go on coffee runs with me?”

You pinch at the bridge of your nose. “Being our boss’s errand boy does not count as a date, Kuroo.”

He just chuckles, abashed. His cheeks are turning pink and you sigh, feeling almost affectionate at how your snarky, quick-witted coworker is reduced to the romantic maturity of a high-schooler in front of you.

“Okay, well, since I didn’t get to eat tonight, you owe me dinner,” you say, throwing him a bone.

He blinks. “Like a date?” he asks dumbly.

You sigh exasperatedly for what feels like the millionth time that night. “Yes, Kuroo. A date.” you emphasize heavily on date, worried that he still won’t get the picture.

“It’s late, so there’s probably only ramen shops around if that’s okay? But I promise to take you out to a nicer diner. Like a real date.” he promises solemnly.

“You’re already assuming I’m going to want to go on a second date with you?”

His signature grin returns in full force. “Oh, princess. You’re gonna want that second date. Trust me.”

“Only ‘cuz I want to see how you tame your hair for a real date.”

“Told ‘ya you’d want a second date.”

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