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tarithenurse · 10 months

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Best friends - 2

Fandom: Haikyuu Pairing/starring: Kuroo Tetsuro x fem!reader Word count: 1569 Content: Smut, fluff, explicit content, safety too, but mostly smut which equals loss of virginity. A/N: So...I kinda left off with Best Friends thinking it was gonna be a one-shot but it’s lived rent free in my head since then so here’s the second part. This time there’s no use of a CAH for inspiration but you get all the smut that was implied at the end of the previous chapter. Unbetaed.

Best friends – 2

Your eyes a tightly shut, your breath reduced to laboured gasps. How did you get here?

Blame a silly card game, you mind screams from far away on the other side of a foggy expanse. But how can you blame anything that makes you feel so fucking good? Yeah, sure, the black card had wrested secrets from you that you had expected to bring with you to the grave but now here you are: half undressed and fingers digging into the mattress beneath you.

Tetsuro’s strong hands are pulling at your thighs, pressing them outwards so he can have perfect access to your cunt. He’s humming to himself as though he likes the taste of you, pulling out your essence to devour with each lick and suckle that has your limbs shaking.

There’s just one problem.

“Tets...I’m...I’m s-so...” If he can make out your words it’d be a miracle as you stutter and slur.

For a moment he pauses to look up at you with a wide grin. “Want me to stop, baby-girl?”

“No!” You hadn’t meant to shout it and you cover your cheeks in embarrassment.

Kuroo just laughs. “Good.”

Kissing your inner thigh on the way, he delves back down, latching on to your clit with renewed vigour which causes you to moan shamelessly.

It’s not like sexual pleasure is completely unknown to you: you’ve got your toys and your fingers have made you familiar with certain preferences. But to be at the mercy of someone else, to be touched by another person and have them read your body’s needs so well. You never imagined just how intoxicating that would feel.

Heat bubbles in your core. Lazy waves that flood through your body to your mind and threaten to become too much even though something’s still missing.

Tetsuro shifts his hold, sitting with his legs holding yours in place. Sadly, he can’t keep eating you out and you whine at the loss of contact but that’s only until you realize that his hands are free to play. A thumb circles and nudges your clit while he slips a single finger from the other hand into your heat.

This is what I need! You’re far from full but already it feels better and your cunt clamps onto him, almost trying to pull him in despite the slow pumping and wriggling of the digit.

Then another finger and it feels even better. A groan slips from your lips, originating somewhere from deep within the chest. And you’re closer than you thought it would ever be possible without cumming.

Tossing your head back, breasts pushed upwards, you fight to breathe.

“Fuck, you look so good,” Tetsuro coos.

Searching for him, you have to blink before he gets into focus. Hair impossibly more tussled than normal, lips and chin glistening with your juices. The gold of his eyes is almost completely gone, swallowed by the lust that also shows itself as a daunting bulge in his boxers – at some point (you’re not sure when) he must have stripped his jeans and t-shirt off because he’s sitting bare-chested, making you hungry for more than he’s giving you.

Except...

“Come on, babe,” he tempts you, tightening the circle on your clit as he slips in a third finger, causing the waves to crash over you with a sudden force.

“Fuck!”

It’s your own voice but you’re not aware of having actually said anything because all your world consists off is the pleasure coursing through you, making your muscles clench and burn deliciously as your vision swims. Vaguely aware of your hands clawing at the anything within reach, you know instinctively that getting off on your own will never be adequate compared to this. You’ve really fucked yourself over with this.

“That’s it,” Tetsuro praises you as he slowly helps you down from the newfound heights, “so beautifully when you cum.” His fingers slip from you, just a single hand resting on your stomach as you feel the mattress dip and move under him while he comes to lie next to you. “Was that okay?”

It takes a moment before you find his gaze, deigning him with a ‘DUH’-look. Then you notice his arm moving and trail it down to his hand. A hand that’s wrapped around a weeping cock and you know what you want.

“Please, can we...do you have...?” Why is it so hard to ask for a condom? The guy’s just gone down on you and now is when you get shy??

But he seems to understand because he disappears for a moment and when he returns it’s with a silvery wrapper between the fingers. While he’s been gone, you’ve gotten rid of the last bit of clothes and now he can look you over appreciatively before holding the little square up for you to see.

“You sure about this, honey?” he asks even though he’s already reclaimed the position between your legs.

You know he wants more than a nod. “Yes please. I want you, Tetsu.”

He looks like a man whose dream has just come true. Grinning with delight, he sheds the boxer shorts completely, causing his erection to slap unceremoniously against his abdomen, and then unwraps the rubber, deftly slipping it on his throbbing cock and for a moment the size is intimidating.

Kuroo Tetsuro deserved all the credit a man can get because he takes it slow. Gently, he slides his cock through your folds, slicking the thin silicone wrapper in your essences before even attempting to enter you. Once aligned, he pauses and waits for your breath to even out a bit.

Then he pushes in and it’s overwhelming and filling in a way that his fingers had not been able to prepare you for.

“Keep breathing, [Y/N],” he whispers, voice rather strained, “deep breaths. Come on.”

And you do as he says, inhaling sharply through your nose and even remembering to exhale again, shakily.

Centimetre by centimetre, Tetsuro fills you up, pausing several times on the way to pull back a bit or give you a chance to adjust. Never once does he take his eyes off of your face and you find your gaze locking with his when you’re not staring at how he disappears into you (or when you’re not rolling your eyes backwards from the sweet stretch).

“Taking me so well,” he gasps, finally bottoming out.

“So...big...” you moan.

“Too big?” there’s concern laced into the words.

Shaking your head, you manage to convince him it’s just right and you testingly roll your hips just to see how it feels. It makes Tetsuro suck in air sharply.

“Let me, babe,” he groans, “wanna make you feel good.”

“You already did.”

“Please...let me more?”

You know what he means and nod in agreement, stretching your neck to kiss him. Slow, tongues dancing and Tetsuro even nibbles slightly at your bottom lip before he moves on to your throat. Teeth graze your skin as he rolls his hips, dragging his cock along your sweet spot, and the dual sensation has your legs moving on their own accord to wrap around his waist, making you clamp on tighter to him with your cunt too. A string of curses and adorations tumble from his lips but he keeps the pace slow and steady.

Your hands are scrambling for purchase and thankfully it doesn’t last long before you find that one is at home clawing onto his shoulder blade while the other can dig into his hair – it makes his eyes screw together and new groans fill the room, especially when you tug gently at the black mess.

Steadily, the elastic inside your core tenses once more and you admit as much: “Feels so good...more please...”

“More? Alright, babe.”

And he increases the pace, repositioning to slip a hand between your bodies where it comes to rest on your mound, thumb gently stroking your still sensitive clit.

Tetsuro’s face is as study of emotions: lust, determination, bliss. “So close, baby-girl,” he grits out, “can you cum for me?”

It’s not really a question because what he’s doing feels heavenly and your body is already zeroing in on the impending release. Two thrusts later and your entire body spasms, locking your best friend in place as his hips stutters and your back arches. Both of you call out, none of you coherent enough to truly answer.

You see white, sounds a distant sensory input that you can deal with later once the concentrated ecstasy has subsided...but for now all you can do is cling onto the warm body above you.

It takes a moment before your limbs return to your command once more and you gently free Tetsuro from your grip.

“Sorry,” you mumble as you become aware of how your nails have dug into his back.

He just smiles dopey and kisses your hard re-won breath away.

Eventually, you part, leaving you empty as he pulls out and saunters off to the bathroom. Upon return, he’s brought a damp cloth for you and while you clean up a bit, he gets the covers under control for the two of you to cuddle up under.

It feels like home to snuggle close to him. And as his breath even out, reaching the depths of a man asleep, you lie awake and relish in the nearness, knowing that nothing will ever be the same...and that’s definitely for the better.

#kuroo tetsurou #Kuroo tetsuro #Kuroo x you #kuroo x reader #kuroo smut #haikyuu kuroo #Haikyuu fandom #haikyuu #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #smut #HQ #fluff

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atsumiye · 2 years

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oh to be academic rivals with kuroo throughout your entire lives. and you guys end up going to the same uni and are in the same major.

and all the classes you have together have become a daily competition of who gets the higher score and who can answer more of the teachers questions correctly.

so your last final before you graduate, when you get your grades back, you run up to kuroo, holding your exam behind your back.

“what did you get kuroo?”

“97” he grins down at you, “what did you get?”

you throw your exam in front of his face, his eyes move to the giant ‘98’ in red ink on the right corner of the paper.

“looks like i beat you, yet again! and on the last exam too. you won’t be able to try and one-up me anymore”, you giggle. “you gave great effort though”, you place your hand on his bicep and squeeze, letting a fake pout grow on your lips.

“you did great y/n, guess i really can’t beat you can i?” he grins and laughs with you.

“say it.”

“say what?”

“that i, y/n, am the greatest student to grace this university and am worlds beyond kuroo tetsuro in all aspects of life.” you cross you arms and smirk.

“i’ll say it”, your smile drops and you tilt your head, “on one condition.”

“and that is?”

“that you go out with me.” he takes one step closer to you. “let’s cut the rivals act and just admit it.” he takes two more steps closer to you until your back hits the desk. he places one hand on the desk behind you and another on your cheek. he leans his face forward so your noses are almost touching, “you and i keep this little act running because we enjoy being around each other.” he runs his thumb across your cheekbone, “so let’s date.”

you bite on your bottom lip and mumble out a quick, “sure, just call me.”

you grab your bag and leave, trying to hide the smile on your face (which kuroo totally notices.)

and kuroo gets ready to leave and run after you, shoving his exam into his bag, a 100 written in red ink on the right corner.

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tetsunormous · 3 years

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*He feels a sense of triumph when she perks up and agrees to the name but before he can toot his own horn, he lets out a squeak as she kisses him. He’s embarrassed by the high-pitched sound that he just made so hides his bright red face into her neck. Orion the cat stuffie is still in his hands as he wraps his arms tight around her* “You’re welcome, kitten. Wasn’t sure if you’d like little Orion or not but I’m glad that you do. I know you’ll take care of this chibi cat” *He then moves her so that she’s straddling his lap. His free hand slowly strokes up and down her back while pressing his lips to her neck* “A cute tiny kitty for my pretty lil’ kitten”

- Testu Kitty 🐈‍⬛

(make you soft huh? you’ve got me feeling the same way, kitten)

*she giggles and his squeak and uses her fingers to card through his hair. He’s so sweet to her it genuinely makes her heart flutter. She’s quick to straddle him and lean against his shoulder, hugging Orion with one arm* “of course I would like it! I asked you to pick a name for me, didn’t it?” *she kisses his cheek and smiles at the pet name* “promise I’ll take good care of him”

#kuroo anon🐈#j chats 💬#stop thats so cute #honestly if you’re not like kuroo #that’s a real shame #he really do be living in my head rent free

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haztory · 2 years

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the long awaited part FOUR to spiderman!kuroo. it's a banger y'all. enjoy

warnings: blood, mentions of violence, exes to lovers arc (kind of, almost), absolutely not beta read, im so sorry

(w.c: 5.9k)

previous | masterlist

“You look like shit.”

A laugh is exhaled— breathless and quick, the kind that toes the line between humor and dripping sarcasm. A wince flashes across his face as he steps over the ledge of the windowsill that quickly morphs into a crooked smile as he ducks his head downward to avoid the window. Rolling his shoulders nonchalantly despite the firm clutch he has on the side of torso, anyone with half a brain and a quick glance would venture a guess forward to say that Spider-Man, in his after hours persona of Kuroo Tetsurou, finds such a statement to be rather amusing.

But Kenma isn’t just anyone— and he has more than half a brain on a good day.

Kuroo crosses over the threshold of the window into the slightly messy apartment with sluggish and limping steps, swallowing each bite of pain that jolts up the neurons of his nervous system and stabs him with every slight movement his aching body makes. Stepping over stray pieces of laundry and a misplaced shoe is a feat requiring strength that Kuroo believes deep inside he just doesn’t have anymore—but he does it anyway. Pushing through the straining effort of moving limbs that feel heavier than sinking rocks, he finally approaches the center of the living room, standing beside his best friend and slowly tugging his ripped mask off of his face.

The fabric tears away from his skin in an uncomfortable sensation that he’s grown accustomed to these days. Blood and torn fabric keeping the mask to his face until his forcible removal of it. A tired sigh escapes his mouth as he frees himself from the tattered confines of his second skin, dropping it without a care to the floor as he looks to his life-long friend.

“You’re going to hurt your eyes if you keep sitting that close to the screen.”

Kenma hardly gives Kuroo a second glance from his place at his computer desk. His hands move frantically on the keyboard as he watches his monitor with a bored gaze and hunched shoulders. Headphones sit atop his head, one ear pad sitting behind his ear and flashes of blue and pink reflecting onto the younger boy’s face.

“You’re going to kill yourself if you keep dressing in red underwear and fighting morons in the street,” Kemma spits back, quickly moving his mouse to the right as he rotates his player on the screen and continues to shoot at, what looks to be, some hybrid of gorilla with robot.

Kuroo tuts, rolling the comment off of his shoulder with practiced expertise and lighthearted tone, “That’s a bit of an exaggeration.”

“Do you usually bleed this much or are you just showing off?”

“Only when I’ve had a really good night.”

Kuroo plops himself down with a pained groan on one of the loveseats in Kenma’s living room, resting his head along the backing of the cushioned chair. He rests his eyes for a brief moment despite knowing it isn’t the smartest of decisions when sustaining a life threatening injury—but it’s a momentary luxury. One that he believes he deserves as his body slumps further into the ease of the plush cushions and off of his sore and aching feet.

“I make rent for hurting my eyes on a really good night.” Kenma mocks, but there's no rise or fall to the rhythm of his voice, only the still and consistent monotonous tones belonging to him. It used to be something of a pain to deal with before, but now it’s a comforting aspect for Kuroo.

A far cry from panicked screams and angry shouts; No cursing, or judgment, or fear, or pain tainting the inflection. Just Kenma and his stoic, boring, even, and wonderfully welcome tone of voice.

Kuroo adjusts himself on the chair, fixing a pointed ache in his shoulder and peeking an eye open to stare at the back of the brunet’s head.

“Pft, I don’t need money. I get paid with gratitude from the people. Appreciation, my friend. It’s a hell of a reward.”

Another groan escapes the web-headed hero’s mouth, only this time because he’s lifted his hand from its death grip on his stomach to his eyesight. Red, deeper than the color of his suit, stares back at him. The sudden clicking of a key on the keyboard resounds throughout the living room, and Kenma finally swivels in his chair to look at his best friend.

There’s not much revealed in the slow surveyance of golden eyes over the supine and battered body. Ambers stare back in equal measure, waiting for the shoe to drop, for the bomb of concern to explode, but it never comes. There’s no dismay or judgment, no pity, no sign of a lecture on the horizon. Only a gaze of golden, taking in his friend as he comes before him.

It is but a simple acceptance and yet the largest of cracks in the facade of responsibility that Kuroo has worked day and night to hold tightly for the past three months. Released in the exhale of a shuddering breath. It’s a message understood silently between the two— the silent request to not push, and the acceptance of it.

Kuroo doesn’t need someone to police and punish himself to keep him in line, to repent for the things that he cannot forgive— he does that just fine on his own. Even if Kenma decided to, there was no guarantee of any well aimed advice working, only the surefire fate of pushing him away. So, he does the only thing he can do, as any person who may be concerned with the well being of their secret superhero best friend can: stand from his seat and walk past his friend towards the kitchen.

Muttering, “Well, don’t get your rewards on my carpet.”

And finally, a true laugh of amusement escapes Kuroo’s mouth. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Here,” A packet of alcohol prep wipes is tossed over the counter, but its trajectory is too far to the left. Clearly aimed at the side of Kuroo’s chair that, in his hurt-addled state, he wouldn’t be able to catch without also tearing open new wounds. A mistake Kenma notes a little too late, until a thwoop is heard and a flash of a web is shot into the air, tethered to the gauze and being pulled to Kuroo without so much as a sound from his mouth.

It’s a moment of silence as Kuroo, in his one handed endeavor, attempts to unfurl both his suit and the tin foil packet— trying, futilely, to minimize the amount of blood pouring from his gaping wound and simultaneously keep his rewards from dripping all over the upholstery.

For a man wincing in pain with every jolt and movement, Kenma is rather surprised at how the taller man is managing. A kind of dexterity in the fiddling of his fingers as he widens the tear in his suit and dutifully wipes around his torso. Soft grunts and a deep crease between his brows erupt like a steady metronome in the space of the two.

It isn’t lost on Kenma that this marvelous experience in dressing a deep wound on one’s own body didn’t come from the mystical enhancements from a spider bite, but from a necessity; Kenma was more than aware of the aftermath of Kuroo’s severance of his relationship with you—doesn’t keep his windows unlocked these days to not be horribly conscious of it. It doesn’t look particularly easy, but like much that comes with Tetsurou, he makes it seem so. Picking up the slack where he previously handed it off to you— relied on you, was cared for by you. Willingly, until that big head of Kuroo’s got in the way.

To say that Kenma admires Kuroo is too much of a stretch; He thinks he’s an idiot, really. But Tetsurou has always been one to play the cards he’s been dealt, self-inflicted or otherwise, and the extent to which his friend commits to playing the best hand he can is truly something Kenma can do little more than shake his head at.

An idiot, Kenma thinks Kuroo is. A stupid, stupid man consistently on the verge of death on his own volition and making stupidly tragic decisions at every turn.

But that’s his idiotic best friend that’s currently avoiding his gaze as he struggles with every ticking silent second; And he’ll be damned if he lets him try to push him away too.

With a heavy sigh, Kenma opens a cabinet underneath his sink, pulling out a container with first-aid supplies and other items that Kenma doesn’t have the slightest idea how to use. Suction tubes, threads, and bottles of alcohol littered in the box and in dire need of replenishing.

Stepping forward with the container in hand, Kenma places the items on the coffee table in front of Kuroo’s body, pointedly turning the label written ‘For Tetsu’ in your handwriting away from his friend.

(It’s a moot point. Kuroo knows exactly where that box came from. Has seen it a number of times in an apartment he called his second home. In the corner of the kitchen counter, right next to a framed photo of him and you. But he appreciates the attempt nonetheless.)

“Do you want me to… I don’t know, stitch you up? Or something?” Kenma asks, queasily, after a moment of watching his friend clean up red skin and reveal a gaping wound.

Kuroo exhales another genuine laugh this time as his eyes meet his friend’s, “You really think you can?”

A quick glance to the needle laying in the box has a violent chill running down Kenma’s spine and the soft push of bile rising up his throat. He quickly shakes his head and Kuroo laughs again. Kuroo leans forward, grabbing the godforsaken tool in his own hand and starting the process on his own— threading string through the needle and tying it around it with one hand and his lips. Kenma looks away quickly.

“Okay…” Kenma says, swaying on the balls of his feet as he thinks about everything but the idea of skin being pierced in his living room. His eyes dart to the calendar on his wall, the framed photo of him and Kuroo in high school, his paused game— that one makes him pine.

“Well, uh, what do you want me to do?”

A shuffling sound resounds and a grunt from Kuroo. Needle through skin.

“Just— distract me.”

Kenma rolls his eyes at that. How was he supposed to distract someone when all he was thinking about was a needle and blood. He shakes his head with a scoff, mind roaming lamely at whatever he could think of—trying to find something that he could tell his best friend that he didn’t already know.

Looking back to his dual computer monitors, Kenma’s eyes land on the file of paperwork beside his desk, and then he remembers. “Apparently, management wants to have a profile done on me for a magazine.”

“No way.” The excitement is audible in Kuroo’s voice, even if it is accented with another pained grunt and a muttered curse.

“Stupid, if you ask me.”

“Gaming magazine?”

“No. A Tokyo based magazine that’s running a section on Bouncing Ball’s charity stream.”

“Lifestyle?”

“Kind of. Management allowed me to choose the publisher. Which is nice, I guess.”

“Oh, cool. Which magazine?”

Kenma’s silence is answer enough. A quick glance upward is more proof to that; Kenma averts his eyes and looks to his computer rather than meet the stare of Kuroo.

It’s been three months since Kuroo has seen you, and try as he might to convince himself that it was for the best, the crippling feeling of ache he gets in his chest everytime there’s a mention of you proves otherwise. A decision that a different person made a lifetime ago.

It’s a stupid question, he realized he’s asked; If Kenma was required to have a profile done, he was going to choose the reporter he felt most comfortable with. It’s just an added bonus that you just so happen to also be one of the best reporters in the Tokyo Prefecture. A feat he never failed to remind you of, a fact he was so proud of.

“How’s she doing?” Kuroo asks, returning his attention back to the half-stitched wound his hands have turned idle beside. Resuming his work, he pierces the skin of his ribcage with thread and needle once more, relishing the sharp pain that he feels as he begins the familiar game of torture that he remains the sole and dedicated player of.

In and out, in and out, needle through tender skin, relishing when the thread pulls the two jagged pieces together.

Kenma’s voice is low when he speaks again. Measured, as all concerned best friends wanting to spare feelings are, “You want the truth?”

And maybe, if Kuroo was less removed from his entrenched fantasy of hurting himself and able to actually read the room, he might’ve been able to take such a question as an answer. But it isn’t enough. He wants, no, needs to hear it. “Yeah.”

The passing seconds feel like a monumental weight on his chest. Bated breath and pulsing skin a lethal combination as Kuroo comes to the slowest of realizations that the answer, good or bad, is hardly any kind of consolation to him. Damned he is if you’ve moved on, and damned he is if you haven’t, damned because he still perches himself on the building adjacent to your apartment windows some nights, just to see you.

Damned, damned, damned.

“She’s alright.”

The final piercing of both heart and skin, thread is pulled together a final time and the wound is closed. Nasty looking and poorly done, Kuroo doesn’t know whether to attribute the pain that blooms across his body as a result of his nightly deeds or the mere mention of you.

“...Good.” He nods absentmindedly, removed from head and body in the sanctity of Kenma’s dark living room. Silence resounded through the room, head rolling heavy on his shoulders.

“Are you?”

Kuroo’s eyes flicker to Kenma, lost ambers meeting the same blank stare of the golden ones. “Am I what, Kenma?”

“Good?”

“Yeah.”

A lie—not because Kenma knows Kuroo better than he knows himself, but because Kuroo doesn’t even try to be convincing. Just stares emptily, says things of equal emptiness, lies and lies and lies that he’s okay. Pretends that if he says it enough times, reality will magically rearrange itself to reflect his words. Pretends that losing you wasn’t a loss of everything good in his life, a loss of himself, a submergence into a fate that is painful and void of any reprieve as he wakes and lives the fight only to return to it the next day—your touch and kiss a faint memory at this point.

“Is that why you’re getting reckless these days?” Kenma asks, nodding to the abysmally stitched wound on Kuroo’s side. Accompanied by a smattering of other equally horrible looking scars.

Golden eyes staring knowingly into amber ones, the bitter truth sitting uncomfortably between the two that hardly phases Kuroo. Because Kenma remembers a time where Kuroo’s late night visits weren’t so grave, nor were they so frequent. Because Kenma remembers a time not too long ago where he wasn’t seeing red drip from his friend almost every day, where Spider-Man was the one doing the beating on thugs as a means of protecting the city, not because he was trying to feel something.

Kuroo only shrugs, tired and sluggish and wholly uncaring. The faint pulse of eagerness that has sprung to life in his brain is back again, desperate to go back out into the city and resume his work; Wondering if he can outdo himself once more, push his limits again, and survive a wound far more fatal than this one he sustained even as sore limbs and tired gray matter scream otherwise.

“Comes with the job,” He says, a faraway look in his eyes and a tone so far resigned. The laceration on his rib cage pulsing with pain, almost louder than the dueling desires that split his heart and brain into two, and yet—

He feels nothing. Thinks nothing, except that the medicine bin is running low and that he's due for another visit to the pharmacy.

-*-

“You look like shit.”

Akaashi throws a pointed dagger to his side, of which Bokuto remains blissfully unaware of as he chomps thoroughly on his burger.

“You look fine,” Akaashi covers, sending you a sympathetic look across the restaurant table, earning a wry laugh from you and a widening of Bokuto’s eyes as he sputters, belatedly covering a hand over his mouth.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way!”

“How else can you mean it, Bokuto-san?”

“I meant in a, you know, ‘my-friend-looks-stressed’ way!” His mouth is full as he hurriedly pushes out his explanation. Wide eyes darting between Akaashi’s scolding stare and your amused one, “Is the profile stressing you out that bad? I thought you knew the guy? When was the last time you slept? Is it because bof—”

“One question at a time, Bokuto—”

You shake your head good naturedly at your two friends, the greatest of entertainment and the sweetest of distractions. “The profile is going fine, Kou. Thank you for wondering.”

“Then why do you look—” Koutarou begins again, genuine concern and confusion in his eyes as he starts his question. A jab of an elbow to his stomach has him faltering in place, only briefly, and then picking up once more with a tone that he’s convinced is gentle, “—tired?”

It misses the mark of gentleness and instead lands fully in the field of beloved ignorance— reminiscent of a child who doesn’t know any better. Lovable, at the very least.

“You don’t have to answer that,” Akaashi says quickly afterward, passing a napkin without a second glance to Bokuto, who has mayo dribbling down his chin. You snort another laugh through your nose taking a sideways glance over the mildly busy restaurant as the duo briefly engage themselves in the cleaning of Bokuto’s mouth.

Akaashi and Bokuto were kind enough to suggest a restaurant close to your office, but you suspect it was less of a decision made for your convenience and instead because they knew you would be unwilling to go anywhere too far from work in the middle of the day. Compromising, Akaashi may be, but determination stains his demeanor so intently that you would be remiss to understand his exact intentions in choosing a place so close to your job. He is slowly, but surely, priming you away from the coping mechanism your job has granted since…

You found yourself with ample freetime.

He’s been testing the boundaries lately, pushing the distance farther and farther with each passing outing, seeing how far he can pull you away from the office— of which Bokuto has been all too pleased in the frequencies of the impromptu food adventures. And while your eye has never really left the clock, watching each passing second as it ticks closer and closer to your time to return, you can’t deny how nice it is to be with them. A distraction.

Relief, albeit temporary. The pleasant kind. Even if Bokuto is chewing rather loudly. Though you can’t deny the pang in your chest whenever moments like this arise— when Akasshi, in his stoic stupor, tends to his boyfriend instinctually. Love imbued in his every gesture as he swipes the last streaks of residue off of Bokuto’s face.

The aversion of your eyes is automatic— not out of jealousy or spite, but longing. Because not too long ago, your own love was instinctual and intact. Whole and plenty for one person, under the belief that he just needed to release some tension, that he needed to unburden himself before coming back to you. Then a month passed and a fragment of your beliefs broke. Phone calls rang unanswered, messages stayed delivered, and Kenma’s lips remained sealed even though the pity in his eyes was all the answer you needed. Then another month passed with doubt staining your patience and resolve— wondering if he was dead, if he hated you, if he was alone and needed help, wondering, wondering, wondering. Less patient about his need for space and instead, angry. Still angry.

Then another month passed and you did the only thing you could; Threw yourself into your work and haven’t looked much further than that. Taking on every story you could and passing whatever report involved Spider-Man to your desk mate, letting his own fanaticism for the superhero take flight while you stuck to what worked for you—what grounded you— what kept you sane from drowning in the expansive sea of heartbreak that flashes every now and again in the images of red and blue.

“You are alright, right?” Akaashi’s voice pulls you away from your trained gaze of the outside world. There’s an evenness to his stare as though he were asking something only trivial and not probing, but within it lies the same concern that was fixated in Bokuto's wide and blunt one.

Three months later and you still find yourself looking down alleyways in the hopes of seeing him; Sometimes you see a shadow perched on the building adjacent to yours and you always hope that it might be him; These days, you’ll have plenty to distract you from the endless heartbreak that is Kuroo Tetsurou and yet all you can ever think of is him.

No, you’re not really alright.

“Oh, yeah. I mean, I am tired—they’ve got me working like a dog, but my pieces have been doing really well lately. So, I’m happy.” You tell them both.

It isn’t exactly a lie. The sudden free time has done many things for your career, putting you as a lead journalist in the office for all things life and news related—this new passion project of profiling major charitable figures, like Kenma, being a product of that. The dream of becoming editor for the magazine growing closer and closer as your articles get more praise and recognition.

Your creative op-ed piece on the epistemology of wisteria doing a big number when it was published back in May; Bokuto being kind enough to accompany you on the tour of the tunnels for photographs when it was much too painful for you to go alone.

“That’s good. I’m proud of you.” Akaashi says, wiping a napkin over his own mouth in good table manners— a sharp contrast to his boyfriend who continues his hearty chomping. “But I’m not talking about that.”

That makes you roll your eyes and huff, “You guys don’t have to baby me, you know. We all go through break-ups.”

The muffled voice springs up again, this time lettuce in his mouth rather than the burger meat, “No, normal people go through break-ups. You got dumped.”

Akaashi taps his index finger against his temple, “Thank you, Kou. Really helpful.”

“I’m just saying—”

“—You were together for three years, and he broke up with you out of the blue by ghosting you. You’re allowed to be upset for a while.” Akaashi looks to you, mild annoyance in his eyes but it seems less geared towards his boyfriend’s bluntness, and more towards your own. Ex-boyfriend, you remind yourself.

“Man, if I ever see him, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind. What a scumbag.” Bokuto wags a finger sternly, then holds both of his arms up towards his head. Flexing his biceps, “He’s going to get a warm hello from “Knuckle” and “Sandwich”.”

You laugh, “That’s nice, but I really don’t want you to fight my ex.”

“Afraid I’m gonna hurt him too bad?”

“Well... he is quite strong.” You tell him, and there’s the small breach of a smile on your face. One not missed by either of the men in front of you.

“I can take him on!” Bokuto insists, convinced that he’s the reason behind the smile. Figures he can draw more out of you as he eggs the bit on, “And I’ll win, too! Can he bench two-ninety?”

While you’re not sure of the exact amount, you’re pretty sure your ex-boyfriend once threw a loaded semi-truck across a highway. You bob your head from side to side in consideration.

“Maybe.”

“Ack, he’s got nothing on me! I’ve been doing this new regimen for my dives on the court, and—”

Like all things that happen in your life, conveniently, a flash of red and blue swings by the open window of the restaurant. Too fast for you to even register that it happened, but the gaggle of shouts and squeals were all you needed to know what was happening. It draws all three of your attention quickly, alongside the rest of the restaurant as you are all given front row seats to a commotion.

“Yo!” Bokuto exclaims, standing up from his seat in excitement, pressing his face and fogging up the glass in the process as he looks towards the figure in red and blue at the center of it all. Face to face with a broken down car and a man that is pointing a knife viciously at the webhead. “It’s Spider-Man! I love that guy!”

You would have laughed at the irony of it all had Bokuto not turned his head to look at you with an eager smile on his face.

"Now there's a guy who can bench two-ninety!"

It’s been three months since you’ve seen any form of Kuroo before you and you find yourself leaning into the window hoping to get a closer look. Convincing yourself that you’re only trying to understand what kind of commotion could possibly be happening, and not at all fixating on the lean masked figure.

Spider-Man is perched on top of a stalled vehicle in the middle of an intersection, bent at the knees as he focuses his attention on a man yelling wildly in front of him. You can’t make up what either of them are saying, and your brain doesn’t seem to register the imminent danger of being front row and center to a potentially violent criminal, poses.

“What’s happening?” Akaashi asks, standing from his seat to look over Bokuto’s shoulder. Much like the rest of the restaurant seems to also be doing.

He doesn’t get the response to his question verbally, but instead the quick gasps of a crowd as the man swings violently forward serve as answer enough. There’s a contraption in the man’s hand, which he throws at Spider-Man directly. Spider-Man elegantly dodges it, flinging the contraption high into the just in time to watch the device explode and dissolve into a gas that falls into a radius outside of the gathered crowd.

Quickly, as attention is diverted to the billowing gasses in the air, Spider-Man slings a series of webs at the man, wrapping his entire body in the white mesh and rendering him immobile.

It’s nothing… extravagant. Relatively, one of the quicker standoffs Spider-Man is a part of, but it still has the entirety of the crowd clapping in victory as Spider-Man has once again saved the day!

And maybe, everyone is too relieved at the crisis averted to notice it, but you do. You always do— he’s in pain. There’s a slight limp in his step as he takes a step forward and pushes the man against the stalled vehicle, tying him with a web to the side of the car.

“That reminds me,” You say to no one in particular, a gentle mumble that you don’t even realize Akaashi notices. Finds his eyes narrowing in observation as you stare at the figure of red and blue with a film over your eyes that he has lovingly referred to as the Kuroo stare. “I need to go to the pharmacy.”

It doesn’t matter, though. Akaashi’s potential suspicion or curiosity holds no weight on you when you realize, rather latently, that Spider-Man draws his view from the apprehended criminal to a slow surveyance of the crowd that has gathered. He waves as girls scream his name and men clap loudly for him, but he does his duty in addressing everyone. Looking onward and giving everyone their acknowledgement.

Then, he looks to the restaurant, and even though you’re seated in a behind a window that is currently lined with individuals hoping to catch a glimpse of the amazing masked hero, blocked by both people inside and outside, you swear on your everything you hold dear to you—

—Spider-Man fixes his eyes on you.

-*-

The first aid box stored at Kenma’s apartment, the one that you labeled for him and dropped off at his place after the end of your relationship— no, after he ended your relationship— the one that Kenma tries in what little measures he can to hide from Kuroo, has run empty of it’s supplies. And while Kuroo is a glutton for punishment when he thinks he deserves it, he can still venture a guess forward to say that he should probably restock such a supply, especially if he’s keen on continuing his run as Spider-Man.

He stops by the pharmacy on his way home from the lab, thankful that Doctor Nekomata didn’t do much other than take a second glance at Kuroo’s face when he asked to leave early. No questions, no offhand remarks, just a single look and a gentle nod of his head. A look Tetsurou is all too familiar with these days, one that he doesn’t let bother him any longer, but one that he brushes off his shoulder and pushes onward.

Forcefully swallows the bitter looks of concern like a thick pill and moves on with the same routine that he’s held sacred for the past three months.

Work, pharmacy, home, then night patrol. No more late night strolls or date nights he’s rushing to get to, no meandering walks with the faint smell of purple flowers lingering in his nostrils and no more turning down streets that remind him too much of you.

His red hoodie is pulled high on his face, hoping to avoid any inquisitive stares from any passersby as he enters the pharmacy, going straight to the section that has seen him more than his own grandmother has. He knows the white shelves like the back of his hand, finds pleasant familiarity as he holds the weight of the medicinal products in his hands. He’s got two antibiotics in his palms— an ointment in his left and its counterpart in spray version in the right— unsure of which he should choose.

One touts its effectiveness for open wounds and the other is the familiar, standard brand. Will the spray really be more efficient? He guesses it would probably be better for times when he’s on the go, to just uncap and spray. Does it even matter? Both are supposed to do the same thing.

How is he supposed to know? You were always the one keeping the medicine bin full.

It’s when he is neck deep in this inner debate of brand superiority that he feels it; the hairs on his arms and neck stand up quickly, his blood running still in his veins despite the erraticness of his heart’s beating. A submergence of his body into cold water, the ferocity of reality stilling as his mind clouds over and everything tangible loses feeling. Only hyper focused on what he feels— what he knows before he can even see it, by spider senses or fate alone, he’ll take both as a satisfactory answer.

Someone enters the pharmacy, and he doesn’t need to turn around to know who. A familiar cadence of rhythmic beats reveal the identity to him, the bump bump that echoes in his ears in the stillness of the night in his depressive wading of memories now reverberates loudly in this small corner store. A heartbeat, one that he can make out distinctly in a room of a thousand beating ones.

He knows it’s you before you even step another foot into the store. Sweat becomes him, alongside a jumbled mess of limbs that have both frozen in place and turned into jelly.

You make a bee-line for the aisle that he’s currently standing frozen in and Kuroo can’t breathe.

It shouldn’t be a show stopping moment, really, but it is. Like the unwavering high tide slamming into his body, he’s caught beneath the rolling waves with water swarming into his mouth and filling his lungs. Unable to breath under this surge of emotions that elevate every pinprick and goosebump; That sets every already frayed nerve ending alight.

You settle in the aisle, only a few feet away from him and it’s as though time has slowed. His eyes are unable to tear themselves away from the slope of your nose, the curve of your lips, the apples of your cheeks—unable to fathom that he’s really looking at you as you browse the shelves, not yet aware of him standing beside you.

Your hair looks different. A different cut maybe. But you smell the same—faint perfume flooding his nose that reminds him of violet flowers.

The ointment and spray feel like deadweights in his palms as they hang limply by his side. A bug could fly in and make him choke and truthfully, honestly, it would be a pleasant death with you as his last vision.

He is unable to differentiate between the passing of a minute and an hour as he stares. It could be both, it could be neither, he wouldn’t know. Only knows that where his blood has run hot with the increasing desire to step forward, a freezing chill runs down his spine that roots him to his place and something horribly foreign fills in the gaps of the two.

Guilt.

The familiar acrid taste of guilt that he has learned to associate with his nightlife spreading over his tongue. The list of all the things he’s sorry for, the things he’s done wrong, is longer than he would lik, but he knows that he owes no greater apology than to you. For leaving without a goodbye like a coward he knows himself to be, guilt for putting you in harm's way in a reckless manner, guilt for breaking your heart, guilt for relying on you as heavily as he has as Spider-Man and Kuroo Tetsurou, guilt for wanting you back— guilt, guilt, guilt.

Its force is strong enough to remind him of his vow to stay away from you and he knows he should listen—A danger, he was to you; A weakness, you are to him. Both, of the worst kind.

But Kuroo’s always been a fool in love.

His hand moves to his hoodie before he has a chance to realize it, and it's the movement in the corner of your periphery that has you looking towards him. Your eyes widen considerably as the fabric slips off of his head and reveals the familiarity of messy hair and darkened eyes.

The silence between you two is thick, a shocked stupor holding you both captive and still before one another. Stuck in shaky turbulence of wanting more and not knowing what to do.

And then, he speaks.

“Hey.”

The resounding clattering of your shopping basket falling onto the tile floor resounds around the empty pharmacy.

a/n: so this chapter was actually split into two parts. it could've been way longer but i figured instead of drafting a whole 8k word chapter, i would give you guys something to eat now ;)))) I LOVE YOU ALL

#kuroo x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x you #kuroo tetsuro x reader #hq x you #kuroo tetsurou x you #spiderman au #spiderman!kuroo #my writing #red suits red heart and red ledgers #triple r #my fics #haikyuu #haikyuu fics

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calllamander · 3 years

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lil haikyuu hcs that live rent free in my head

kuroo cries on the first snowfall of every season because when he was really little his mom passed and it was snowing

akaashi can sing ridiculously well but he’s really shy so his talents only come out very quietly round the house or in karaoke

bokuto never misses the trash can

kyoutani speaks japenese and arabic because his family are only japenese on his dads side

oikawa loves studio ghibli movies but will not admit it

iwaizumi is incredibly ticklish

sakusa snorts when he laughs but he gets really embarrassed and covers his mouth with his hand

kenma can fold himself up incredibly small and when he’s stressed he will just hide against your chest

akaashi‘s favourite book is called when god was a rabbit but he usually lies and says it’s the secret history (which he also does like) because it’s not a well known book and it’s so special to him he’s scared of people judging it

he gives you a copy on the fourth date

makki is either a fantastic chef or “this is inedible hiro”

oikawa rambles about his interests until he realises what he’s doing and stops himself (eventually he’ll get comfortable enough with you to keep going)

suga listens to really explicit music

oikawa is half korean (“what can I say, that’s where all my stunning stunning good looks come from - ow!”)

kyoutani cries the first time you hug him

tendou sends you good morning messages everyday

sakusa loves it when you play with his hair

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beautifulblhell · 3 years

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Living Together With Them Headcannon

Ft: Kuroo, Ushijima, Bokuto, Oikawa

A/N: Just a little something since I’m in the middle of writing a 1k 3k Mikey from TokyoRev fic why do my fics always end up growing so big😭

Kuroo Tetsurou

•There’s always sticky notes with cheesy chemistry jokes and puns around the house, and one time when you were stressed, you found them even in the inside of your shoes (it nearly gave you a paper cut though)

•During your first winter while living together the heater in his room broke down

•You got woken up one night when he came into your bed and stuck his ice cold feet under your legs

•Luckily you had a double bed

•Never moved out of your bed so now he sleeps together with you permanently

•He always ends up hugging you in his sleep

•Downside is that he wakes up earlier than you and takes photos of your sleeping faces and teases you about it

•It’s his phone wallpaper

•Expect good morning kisses, leaving for work kisses, coming home kisses, random kisses, just get ready for him to shower you with affection 💕

Ushijima Wakatoshi

•Volleyballs

•Get ready for volleyballs decorations

•Joking, he doesn’t have volleyball decorations

•Enough volleyball live in his head rent free

•Sleeps with a volleyball though

•Human alarm. Wakes up at precisely 5 every morning and go to sleep at 9

•No self awareness. Walks around clad only with a towel around his waist after bath

•Plus when he works-out at home only in his shorts, you get an eyeful 👀

•Evenings during the weekend consist of you sitting in between him and with his arms around you on the sofa watching your favourite movie. He will probably end up giving you neck kisses while you are watching

Bokuto Kotarou

•say goodbye to your eardrums

•Mr Loud

•at first gets complaints from neighbours, but apologies really nicely and the neighbours low-key feel bad for complaining because he’s always lending them a helping hand

•sleep doesn’t exist

•maybe you’ll get an hour of peace when he’s too worn out

•cleanliness doesn’t exist. He’s waiting for the house elf to clean up for him

•eats all the food in the fridge then surprise-pikachu face when he opens it and finds it empty

•wanted to paint his room GREEN for some reason, but the project got dropped halfway as he got bored, so he got a half-green room

•will have delivery guys knocking on your doors at 3AM because he’s hungry

•but will always order your favourite food alongside so you can’t stay angry

•if you are worried about eating too much so late at night he’ll exercise together with you at your pace

Oikawa Tooru

•what’s-yours-is-his but what’s-his-stays-his

•steals your facemasks, then question you why you have the others in your drawers

•needs he beauty sleep, but sometimes he’ll stay up for the good gossip

•wake up early for his skin care regime, will blast music alongside so no lie-in for you

•silk pillowcase and sheets, only the best for his skin and hair

•he’s the type that separates his laundry into materials then colours, and woe betide if you mixed them

•He cooks together with you, but it always ends up as a sing-off battle session because he’s forever saying he’s the better singer out of the two of you

•If you stay out late he will always be up and waits until you come home, will complain on the outside but he will wait up for you every time to make sure you got home okay

Masterlist | Ko-Fi | 2021.08.23

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mushkasstuff · 3 years

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Bokuakakurooken x y/n has been living in my head rent free so here are some headcannons.

(PSA I'm aware I spelled Kuro wrong I just don't feel like fixing it)

My ask are open so if you would like me to elaborate or go into more detail or something like that feel free to put it in there :)

SFW

-started off with Bo and Akaashi dating and Kuroo and Kenma dating and as time went by they ended up living together as friends and all of them fell in love woth eachother and on a date they met you :)

-You're a working woman (as you should) and have a stable income living alone and going from your little studio apartment to your boyfriend's house every other day. One time you invited them over to your little apartment and made dinner for them all and Bo just nonchalantly said, "can't wait for you to live with us" And you were like... "what?" And everyone else was mad because no ones said anything to you yet. (and Akaashi wanted to ask)

-That night they tried to stay over at your place but you only have a full sized bed and they all couldn't fit.

-Kuroo made Bo help him make a blanket fort you all slept in.

-When they did finally ask you to move in it was Kenma who asked. He took you on a one on one date to a con and in your shared hotel room that night he told you that they all agree you can move in if/whenever you want. He gave you a key and a forehead kiss 🥺

-When you moved in Kuroo and Bokuto tried to see who could carry the most things at once and Kuroo jokingly fake tripped him only for Bo to actually trip and drop everhthing (with mans falling ontop it all)

-Akaashi likes to make dinner so you can all sit at a dining table and eat together as lovers.

-Kenmas not the best when showing affection but in his own way he does. Like when you text your guys groupchat that work has been tough that day he will run you a hot bubble bath with a bathbomb and lotions on the side with a decorative soap bar and have your favorite candle lit along with tealights around for dim lighting and a glass of ice water with a book Akaashi said you might like and a freashly dried and warm towl. He'll help you get in and wash your hair slowly and then brush it out (and braid if able to) and then wash your body for you; bringing the water glass up to your lips so you can sip at it. After he pampers you in there he will help you out and dry you off with the towl and make sure you have someones hoodie thats too big for you with a pair of your favorite night shorts. He will let you cuddle him and fall asleep while he grinds his latest game

-You and Kuroo have inside jokes. Alot of them. Sometimes he'll just give you a look and you crack up because it's the face Akaashi makes when he's over concentrated

-Bokuto qnd Kuroo are big guys so all five of you in the same bed gets complicated So with Bos athlete money he bought a custom bed for you all and put the old king that barley fit three of you in the spare room.

-Akaashi will read to you. If he likes the book he's enjoying or even just a line that reminds him of you or is just pretty he will read it aloud to you.

-Bokuto loves the sound of Akaashis voice when he reads to him and watching this big ol muscly guy lay on Akaashis lap with sleepy eyes as Akaashi reads a fantasy book outloud to Bo is your favorite thing.

-Kuroo is very adamant about everyone staying healthy. Kenma.. never really cared. So Kuroo will always sneak little healthy things in there with a forged note from Akaashi saying there was extras from his meal prep.

-Speaking of meal prep... This is something Kuroo always did, and Akaashi loves to cook so they ended up doing it together and it's always so sweet and full of love and just- ugh

-Whenever Kenma has bad anxiety he lays ontop of Bokuto who will wrap his big ol arms around him and it just makes Kenma feel so safe. Bo will go on about his day and the people he met on his runs and Kenma will just relax with the vibration of his chest

NSFW (Minors please don't read past this)

-All of them were scared to add you into their sex life because they didn't wanna hurt you

-This being said Bokuto is a very sexual person

-Someone is getting fucked by Bokuto at least every few days if not more often

-You thought they just werent into female anatomy so you never brought it up and just pleased yourself.

-when living alone they all had a key to your apartment and Akaashi walked in on you plesuring yourself

-"Want me to leave or help?"

-He helped

-Your first actual time you went all the way with them was the date with Kenma when he asked you to move in. That night was very romantic.

-The day you moved in you had sex with Bokuto in the back of the moving truck.

-When watching movies Akaashi always fidgets with something and one time you said he could play with your pussy if he wants and now he does it every time. (out of habit)

-Kuroo is actually not that horny of a guy. More than Kenma but, not as much ad Bo. You thought he wasn't into you in that way for awhile and told Kenma about it and Kuroo heard. The next day he had romantic sex with you worshipped your body.

-Akaashi was the last to have you. He was just always busy and usually not in the mood unless someone got him there. But when you came back from a date with Kuroo and Kenma looking like THAT.

-He fucked you good.

-They have yet to all try at once but you did have a threesome with Bo and Kuroo.

#bokuakakuroken #bokuakakuroken smut #haikyuu #haikyuu smut #kenma #kenma smut #bokuto #bokuto smut #kuro #kuro smut #akaashi #akaashi smut

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periwnklblu · 3 years

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Haikyuu as House Husbands

I finished “the way of the househusband” and this idea has lived rent free in my head ever since

please accept this as i take a mini break from writing for my 100 follower event stuff

featuring: bokuto, kuroo, osamu and oikawa

Bokuto:

Please he would be the best house husband ever

Happily wears any kind of aprons but his favorite are ones that say “kiss the cook” or something.

Would wake up early not only to go on his morning run, but also to make you breakfast and make sure you have everything for the day

Not the best cook but he would do his best and the meals typically come out edible

While you’re gone for work, he likes to clean because he knows how much you like coming home to everything being tidy and neat.

Absolutely will go to exercise classes offered at the community center

Bokuto in a zumba class omg

Likes being in a group setting where everyone is motivated and hype, brings him back to his high school days

All the housewives are in love with him and fawn over him whenever he shows up

Attendance definitely increased once he started going

Probably gets a dog at some point because he wants the company

When he’s not busy cleaning or exercising, he definitely sends Akaashi a bunch of facebook links throughout the day

He always gets excited when you finally come home for the day

Please tell him he did a good job

Kuroo

Annoying but loveable househusband

Is annoying in the morning and will obnoxiously wake you up if you hit snooze

“Aww is the breadwinner still tired? That sucks, now wake up before your breakfast gets cold”

After you leave for the day, he likes to hit the gym and workout for a bit

Definitely posts thirst traps on his social media

Loves to go grocery shopping in the morning after he showers so he can get the freshest produce

Always stocks up on your favorite snacks and other items he notices you’re running low on

This mf 100000% has loyalty cards to his favorite shops and is determined to fill them completely so he can get that one freebie

He was against getting a cat at one point because he didn’t want the mess that comes with pets but now he is absolutely obsessed and even talks to it more than you sometimes

He wears aprons but only if they’re the ones with badly screen printed abs on it

prefers going out for dinner but will go all out if he cooks for you

When you get home, he greets you with a kiss on you forehead and while he doesn’t verbalize it, is always looking for your validation on the housework

I love him

Osamu

He loves you but will not wake up before you or anything

You have to wake him up

He’ll grumble and complain tiredly but nevertheless, once he’s awake he will not go back to sleep

He’ll make you breakfast and reassure you that he’ll bring your lunch to work.

After you leave, he plans out what he’s going to make you

If necessary, will go to the grocery store and get only what he needs, otherwise he goes straight to cooking.

If it’s a new recipe, he’ll invite Atsumu or the neighbors or really just anybody to taste test it before he brings it to you

Yes, he quite literally will show up to your job around noon to bring you your freshly made lunch

All your coworkers are definitely envious of you

He’s not super big on cleaning but will keep things tidy

Swears by the roomba

He’s definitely a fixer, not a buyer. So if something breaks, he’ll do his damn best to repair it, insisting that he can do it and no you don’t need to buy another one.

Makes dinner every single night unless you specify wanting to go out

When you get home, he’s most likely in the kitchen arguing on the phone with his twin

“No ya can’t come over I only made enough for me and y/n!”

Overall, a good house husband you can always count on <3

Oikawa

Oh my goodness

Firstly, he is an early riser and will wake you up before your alarm so he can cuddle with you

As you are getting ready for the day, he will make you breakfast but he leaves it out for you because he likes to go running early.

When he gets back, he likes to take a shower before he goes back to sleep 🙄

You best believe he loves daytime television

It’s so bad, it becomes amusing to him

Spends most of the day at home on the phone with his buddies from seijoh while he cleans around the house

He doesn’t know how to cook many things but the few dishes he knows are very good.

Sometimes he likes to go over to the neighbors house and gossip with the other housewives of the neighborhood

Also likes to go over because he almost always leaves with a bunch of tupperware filled with delicious food

For dinner he lies to you and says he made it asdfajfdkjadkl

When you come home, you almost always find him sitting on the couch, watching telenovelas he got into while living in Argentina

He was honestly made to be a house husband and no you can’t change my mind

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ahtsumu · 3 years

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the mystery of love ; kuroo tetsurou

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x f!reader

synopsis: kuroo tetsurou does not believe in soulmates. he believes in science, himself, and sometimes other people. but that doesn’t mean he can’t believe in love.

tag(s): sweet summer lovin’, friends to lovers, inspired by call my by your name, university student!kuroo tetsurou, lab intern!kuroo tetsurou, so much pining lol, fluff, angst, slow burn ; warning(s): profanity, mentions of alcohol ingestion (it’s legal bc they’re in italy!), suggestive themes ; wc: 4.8k

a/n: happy birthday tetsu!! i hope you guys like this. i really enjoyed writing it ♡

Kuroo Tetsurou does not believe in soulmates. He believes in science, himself, and sometimes other people. At least, that’s what he tells you. Sometimes you treat this information as a source of hope; other times, you’re not sure what to make of it.

This, you realise with his shoulder pressed against yours and both your bodies sprawled across his wrinkled bed sheets, is one of those other times. You turn your face to look at his.

“What?” he asks, one side of his mouth curling up in a smile.

For a moment, you wonder what would happen if you just said it. You could blame the alcohol. Get away with it scot-free. While you mull the option over in the dead silence of his room, your brain suddenly registers the music still playing from the living room. The low bass reverberating through the walls. How close your lips are. The sound of his breaths.

“Earth to Y/N?”

And like that, the little what-if that rose in your mind falls back with its tail between its legs. You bite your lip, look around his room like the walls have a script printed on them. Unfortunately, they do not.

“I was just thinking about my shirt.” It’s not great, but it’s the best you can do while still feeling the vodka and orange juice burn in your stomach. And smelling it on yourself.

Kuroo’s laugh booms through the room and you can’t help but giggle along with him. “I said I was sorry!” he says, hazel eyes twinkling with mirth. He pauses and glances at his closet, then nods his head in its direction. “Take a hoodie. Your pick.”

A smile–– one you try to downplay but fail miserably to–– creeps up your face. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Kuroo replies. “You can also shower here if you want. It's the least I can do after spilling my drink all over you.”

When you emerge from Kuroo’s bathroom in one of his thinner hoodies, a lot soberer and drying your hair, he’s not on the bed anymore. Quietly, you step out of his room and look for him through the house. People are crashed everywhere–– on the sofa, over the kitchen counter, even propped up against walls. The floor is covered with plastic cups and mysterious pools of liquid. Wrinkling your nose, you try your best to step around the messes, looking in every corner in the house for the raven-haired boy.

You find him back in his room, actually. He’s back on his bed scrolling through his phone, the light illuminating his sharp features. When he hears you close the door behind you, he looks up, eyes immediately zeroing in on the black hoodie over your torso. The corner of his mouth twitches up.

“Where’d you go?” you both ask at the same time. He chuckles; you grin. Crawling back onto the bed, you tell him to go first.

“I went around to make sure nothing’s broken,” he explains. “Perks of being the only sober intern in the house, I guess.”

A beat passes.

This house is rented. You forgot about that. All his expenses are paid for by your mother’s lab. You forgot about that. He fits in your world so well, like maybe he’s always had a spot there, that you forgot that Kuroo Tetsurou is only here for the summer.

“Right.”

Kuroo raises a brow. “And you?”

“I went to look for you.”

He smiles and holds his hands out like a magician at the end of a trick. “Well, you found me.”

“Yeah,” you muse. “I guess I did.” Aren’t you lucky.

With that, something shifts in the air. A contemplative expression crosses Kuroo’s face. Maybe he’s realised how his words come out sometimes. Kuroo often says things that sound like they have more than one meaning and it used to throw you off, but now you just go with it. You’ve even picked up that habit yourself. “Do you ever wish that you’d met someone earlier? Maybe under different circumstances?” he asks.

Sighing, you fall back against his mattress and stare up at the ceiling. Telling the truth feels easier when you can’t see him. “Yeah. All the time.” A few seconds pass. “Do you think we would’ve been friends if we went to the same college?”

He also lies down. You’re both back in the same positions you were in an hour ago, but something’s changed. “No,” he admits. You’re not surprised–– that’s what you’d expected. “I’d be a junior and you’d be a freshman. We probably would’ve never met. And even if we had, I wouldn’t be caught dead hanging out with a… freshie.” He chuckles softly at the end. “And look at me now,” he adds softly, more to himself than you. You look over at his face. A contemplative smile rests on his lips.

That urge to just say it returns.

“Kuroo, I think––”

“You’re my favourite p–– oh, my bad. You first.”

And it goes away again.

“Um, uh,” you stutter, “how long do you have left here?”

Kuroo raises his brows. “On this planet? Hopefully a while, Y/N.” He sees your unamused expression and drops the front. “Three more weeks.”

Your eyes widen. Eight weeks have already passed. Blood rushes to your ears. Eight entire weeks have already passed, meaning that in three weeks, Kuroo Tetsurou will leave forever. And in four, you will, too. Except you’ll come back. You’ve done so every summer since you were born, probably will do until you die.

But this place will never be the same as it used to. Not after him.

“Y/N?” Once everything comes back into focus, you see the concern riddling his features. “Everything okay?”

“Hmm? Yeah.”

Say it.

“You didn’t have too much to drink, right?”

Say it.

“I just got buzzed. What about you?”

“The only drink I was planning on having all went to your shirt.”

Say it.

“Kuroo.”

“Yeah?”

Not yet.

“Let’s go on an adventure.”

At two AM, everything is different. The streets feel different, the villas look different, and you–– you can’t put your finger on it but Kuroo Tetsurou has changed, too. He sits behind the wheel of your father’s white 1953 Cadillac with the convertible roof down, unruly hair blown back by the breeze, a euphoric grin stretched over his face. In the passenger’s seat, you sit with an equally large beam and your hands raised into the dark sky.

“Where to, Miss?” he shouts over the wind.

“The stars,” you shout back with a laugh. Kuroo’s cat-like eyes briefly flit over to your side profile, lips curving to form a smaller, more tender smile. But you miss that–– your gaze falls on him just a second after his return to the road.

“I heard you say Jack’s,” he says, smirking.

The 24/7 diner sticks out like a sore thumb in the row of sun-baked stucco and stone buildings with its bold neon lights and shiny exterior. During the day, it seems gaudy, way too American for a small town in northern Italy. But at night, this place feels like home. You’ve been stumbling into Jack’s completely shit-faced since you were sixteen. Of course, all those other times had been with the kids of your mother’s coworkers. All those other times, you could hardly remember what you even ordered when you woke up hours later.

But this time, you walk in with Kuroo Tetsurou at half-past-two in the morning, the chemicals running through your bloodstream epinephrine and dopamine, not ethanol; if you’re drunk then it’s on a feeling and your only poison is the boy next to you. You study his face and consider that thought. No, he’s not poison. He’s the antidote.

“Y/N!” the server exclaims, rushing over with two menus. “And Kuroo! My two favourite customers, but together this time!” Giovanni ushers you two to a booth by the window and takes your orders, purely for show, of course. He knows your orders by heart: the Lorenzo for Kuroo and the Quentin for you.

“With fries on both, please,” Kuroo adds, throwing you a wink. “Aren’t I a gentleman?”

“You only did that to have more for yourself,” you reply drily. Having him over at your house for dinner every night made picking up his idiosyncrasies so unbelievably easy. You know them like they’re your own. You know him like he’s your own.

Kuroo clutches his chest and pretends to be offended, then changes the conversation to what happened at the lab today, or rather, yesterday. That your mother and the other researchers are so close to finding a cure for the strain of virus that’s recently hit crickets in southern Italy.

“You should drop by again sometime,” he says. “Last time you came around was, what, two weeks ago?”

Your face breaks in a grin. “Are you saying you’ve missed me? Chemistry getting boring?” you tease, drawing a loud laugh from him.

“Sodium hydrogen, you little shit.” Your mother’s used this one on you before, but hearing it from him makes you giggle anyway.

Giovanni comes back with two plates, each loaded with fries. You both say your thanks and he retreats to the kitchen again, but not before wiggling his eyebrows at your reddening faces. Wordlessly, you grab your fork and knife and transfer at least half of your fries onto Kuroo’s plate. Kuroo stares at you with the slightest smile. That look sends your stomach into flips.

“What?” you question nonchalantly, cutting into your burger.

“Nothing,” he says, mirroring your actions. “Nothing at all.”

It’s hard to imagine that after spending almost every day together for eight weeks straight that there’s still more to learn about each other, but there is. You tell him more about your real home. Your best friend who called you at 3 AM last night because of timezones. Stories from every summer before this one, when you were a different person in the same place you are now.

He tells you more about Kenma, his best friend from high school. How they played on one of the best volleyball teams in Japan. Stories from training camp, literature class, the metro ride home after school–– you listen to every single one in rapt attention. There’s not enough time in the world for all the things you want to know about Kuroo Tetsurou, so you take what you can get. If only you’d known him before you’d known him.

“If we’d met earlier here, do you think we would’ve been friends?” you ask after paging Giovanni for the check.

“No,” he replies, picking up a few remaining fries with his fork instead of his fingers. The corners of your mouth turn up. That’s your thing. He considers the scenario seriously. “I think we met right when we should have.”

“What about the future?” you press, leaning into the conversation. “Let’s say we meet in two years here, instead of now. Would we be friends?”

Kuroo sets his fork down, eyes you steadily. “What’s this about?”

You blink. “What?”

“What’s with all these hypotheticals today?” Perhaps worried that he came off too harshly, Kuroo adds, “I thought I was the scientist.”

“I just… it feels like I’ve known you since forever.” This feels like it was meant to be, you don’t say. And I want to know you forever.

A sigh–– fond, but still a sigh–– blows through his lips. “Don’t tell me you believe in soulmates,” he says with a wicked grin.

“Are you calling me your soulmate?” The question, shamelessly genuine, painfully hopeful, leaves your mouth without you intending it to and you regret it instantly. Because Kuroo Tetsurou has told you many times that he does not believe in soulmates.

Is it so bad to dream, though?

You watch him carefully but he doesn’t say anything, just continues smiling wryly like you’d intended to tease him. Like he knows that you know better. But you don’t.

“Are you?” he suddenly replies. Sharp eyes hold yours, daring you to respond. Do you dare?

At that moment, Giovanni returns with the check. “Who’s paying?” he asks, unaware of the tense exchange that just occurred across the table. Inaudibly, you sigh in relief. Kuroo is about to say that it’s on him when he catches himself in the middle of his sentence, looks your way, then back to Giovanni. He says you’ll go Dutch. You nod in approval.

“So,” Kuroo drawls once you’ve both paid for your meals. “Where do we go from here?”

Good question.

Kuroo Tetsurou has never been to an outdoor club period. And though he’s been clubbing, he has never once gone dancing in his lifetime. You tell him that’s about to change as he parks the car in a lot near the venue. Before him, all your summer nights were spent here.

“You’ve been here for two months and you haven’t been to an outdoor club yet?” you ask while unbuckling your seatbelt. That can’t be possible. If you’d been in his shoes… an attractive college student in a foreign country for the summer, you would have gone wild.

“Nope. I’ve been a little busy, y’know, spending my days in a lab, handling chemicals, studying viruses, washing lab equipment, writing up reports for your mother and her colleagues, working on my own research on the side… the usual.” He flashes you a bright, sarcastic smile.

“Poor baby,” you coo, ruffling his hair. Kuroo laughs while you continue messing with the dark locks. “Was your first full day here the only tourist-day you’ve had so far?” His weekends, you already know, are spent either lounging around cafés, pools, or the great outdoors with you or the interns. But you’d assumed he’d had time to do some exploring on his own.

Kuroo nods. “And my guide wasn’t even that great,” he mutters, shooting you a dark look. “She sped through every attraction and hardly spoke a word outside of the tour to me. I think she hated me.”

You giggle and open the door, letting the music from the outdoor speakers infiltrate the bubble inside your car. “Maybe she was just nervous!” you say as you get out. That’s a lie.

“About what?” Kuroo follows suit, the gravel crunching beneath his feet. “I was so friendly to you and you just brushed me off each time.” He pouts.

But you don’t reply. Instead, you just grab his hands and pull him towards the venue. As you step into the boundaries marked by fairy lights and rustic wooden fences, Kuroo stops in his tracks and tugs on your intertwined hands. You glance down before up, trying to memorise how his hand looks around yours in the few seconds you can steal.

“Y/N,” Kuroo says. The strobe lights paint his skin pink, blue, purple like it’s a canvas. “Tell me why you were nervous.” Grammatically, it’s a command. And yet it sounds like he’s begging.

“What’s it mean to you?” you ask, feeling your heartbeat speed up in your chest. So what if you just… said it? What would happen?

“Everything?” he replies with a cheeky smile. The odds that he seriously means that are slim. But… they’re there. You shake that possibility out of your mind. That’s just the hope talking.

“Depends how convincingly you say it.” You tug on his arm. “C’mon. Let’s dance.” But he doesn’t budge–– he just continues to stand by the entrance of the club with an expectant look on his face. People are starting to stare.

“Fine,” you say with an eye roll. “I’ll tell you." Kuroo smirks, something self-congratulatory ready to leave his mouth, but then you let go of his hand and dance backwards into the throng of moving bodies. “But first, you’re gonna have to dance with me!”

You allow yourself to be swallowed by the lively music, the people, the moment. Seconds later you’re deep enough into the crowd that you lose sight of Kuroo. Something in you says that he’ll show up soon, though. For now, you let yourself breathe. Forget about the heaviness of what-if’s, the itch to confess, the dread of the aftermath. Feelings are a lot like gravity. Sometimes they keep you grounded, other times, they weigh you down. This is one of those other times.

You dance up to a friendly-looking group of teens your age. Three guys and two girls. You shout your name and follow up with how it’s nice to meet them, hoping one of them finds you nice enough to keep around. Dancing alone in a club is one of the worst things that can ever happen to someone. Luckily, one of the girls–– the one wearing a purple wig–– pulls you in for a hug, drunkenly shouting back, “Bianca!” Bianca pushes you into their circle next to one of the guys and, just like that, you two start moving to the beat, feeling it in your feet, shoulders, hips. At one point, you turn around and take a good look at his face. The guy’s cute enough, but he’s not Kuroo. Still, you say nothing as he moves closer to you and grabs your hand, lifting it up and motioning for you to twirl.

Suddenly, a pair of hands grip firmly onto your waist and pull you out of the circle. “Hey!” You look down, suddenly realising they’re Kuroo’s. A shiver runs down your spine. He spins you around to face him. His lips are set in a firm line, eyes completely devoid of humour, nostrils slightly flared.

“Hi,” you say quietly, testing the waters.

“Hi,” he replies curtly. His hands are still on your waist. Selfishly, you choose not to point that out. Instead, you try to defuse the situation with a light question. Playful tone.

“Where were you this whole time?”

“Looking for you.”

“Well… you found me.” You flash him a sheepish grin. A peace offering of some sort.

“I did.” He doesn’t take it.

“Lucky you.”

Irritation finally seeps through his features. “You just left me on the dance floor!” he snaps. “And then when I find you after searching the entire venue, you’re dancing up on some random guy!”

“It was in good fun!” you retort, wriggling out of his grip. “And I wasn’t dancing up on him.” You want to ask if he’s jealous so badly, but you take a good look at his face and decide against that.

“Fun?” he asks incredulously. “Worrying about losing you, worrying about myself getting lost, then having to worry about that guy after finding you isn’t very fucking fun to me, Y/N!” The words fly out of his mouth like daggers without pause. Once finished, he looks at you with a disappointed gaze, shaking his head lightly, chest rising and falling with each heavy breath.

“I’m sorry,” you say, looking down at your shoes. It doesn’t matter if you disagree with him–– a sort of shame drills itself so deeply into your conscience that all you can think about is making things right again. “I didn’t think my actions through.”

A second passes. You wonder what he’s thinking.

“Hey, look at me.” Kuroo lifts your chin up with an index finger. Your wide eyes meet his narrow ones. Just as a pink beam glides over his face, his gaze softens, falls down to your lips. And then you feel his thumb on your chin, barely grazing the skin of your bottom lip. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down. The revelry in the background fades to dull beats against your eardrums. Suddenly, you register that he smells of, as usual, blackcurrant and amber.

But now you also smell of blackcurrant and amber.

You’re wearing his clothes. You smell of him.

Kuroo’s eyes crawl back up to yours, wide like he’s just been caught in the middle of a crime. You blink expectantly, ignoring the furious way your heart pounds in your chest. Shallow breaths puff through your slightly parted mouth.

“I am.” It comes out barely a whisper. C’mon. Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me––

You gently touch the hand he has on your chin. Kuroo jolts back like he’s been burned. “I’ll, uhm, I’ll be in the car,” he stutters, looking away from your face. He pushes through the sea of people, leaving you all alone on the dance floor, body doused in blue light, fingers touching the area his thumb had been as if preserving its print.

Kuroo hardly notices you slip into the passenger’s seat minutes later. He’s got his forearms hanging over the steering wheel and gaze fixed ahead into the darkness, mind probably running off to a place he wishes his body was, too.

As soon as you’ve buckled yourself in, Kuroo starts the car.

The entire drive home is silent.

Once Kuroo pulls into your courtyard and parks, he turns off the engine, unbuckles his seatbelt, and steps out of the car. Wordlessly, you follow his actions and meet him by the stairs to your door.

“Hi,” you say quietly. He doesn’t look at you.

“Hey.”

The two of you stand outside your front door in silence as you both consider what to say next. This can’t be the way it ends.

“I shouldn’t have… done that,” Kuroo says first.

“Done what?” You choose to play dumb. Call it selfish, but you want to hear him say it. Maybe then it’ll feel as real as it had been. Kuroo sighs and leans his shoulder against the stone wall, crossing his arms over his chest. There’s no way he can dance around what happened. Perhaps the past two months can be summed up as the development of a strong friendship with skilled doublespeak and metaphors and just enough artistic licence, but this can’t. And Kuroo knows that. He can’t feed you an alternative truth like he’s done so many times before. What’s more, he can’t lie to himself anymore. So maybe it’s better just to not speak at all.

Your eyes burn holes into the side of his face. Fine. You’ll concede first. “I was never nervous.”

Kuroo blinks, turns his head around to look at you. “What?”

“I was never nervous. I was playing it cool because I didn’t want to risk befriending you and getting attached.” I’m still playing it cool, you don’t say. And I’m already attached. “Guess I just came off as a bitch instead.” You laugh. “But can you blame me? You were this cute, older guy. Smart, too, since you were interning with my mom. You were my dream guy.”

An amused breath blows out of his nose. “Were?” he questions, grinning, only remembering the fragility of your platonic relationship a second later. “Um––”

“Are.” It slips out of your mouth without you realising. Fuck. Kuroo stills. It’s too late to take back your words now, so you might as well just keep going. “You still are my dream guy.”

Seconds pass and neither of you says anything. Sweat gathers in the palms of your hands. You start to feel your heartbeat through your neck. The buzz of the cicadas grows louder. Oppressive. Behind Kuroo, the sky is starting to turn pale blue and pink in the horizon. That means it’s almost sunrise. The night is almost over, and, hopefully, so is this awful conversation.

“And… you don’t feel the same.” Funnily, you feel like you’re lying. You’re telling Kuroo how he feels and you think you’re lying. Does that make sense? None of this night even feels real. God, you hope this has all just been a dream. Mustering a soft smile, you say, “That’s okay. Thank you for the party. And the adventure.” It was fun while it lasted. You feel the house key in your pocket and turn to unlock the door. “I hope this doesn’t change anything between us, Kuroo. Can we still be friends?” The words leave your mouth feeling like barbed wire. You know damn well you can’t still be friends.

And suddenly, you feel his calloused hands around your cheeks. Suddenly, his hot breath fans over your face.

“Can I kiss you?” he murmurs.

Your eyes close instantly. “Yes, please.”

And suddenly, his soft lips are on yours.

Kuroo breaks the kiss seconds later. “Fuck,” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours, touching the tips of your noses together. “Y/N, I don’t want to be friends. Fuck.” A dry chuckle leaves his mouth. He pauses to collect his thoughts but decides that that can wait. Instead, he presses another kiss to your lips so fervently that he backs you up against the wall with no space between your bodies. You wonder if he can feel your heartbeat like this, chest to chest. Kuroo’s hands travel down your waist and rest on your hips. His tongue runs across your tongue, your teeth, the insides of your mouth. You gently suck on it, drawing a satisfied moan from him. When the kiss ends, you see that his lips are red and cheeks are swollen. A warm feeling spreads through your chest. “I thought I could be happy just being friends with you but I can’t. I want you so bad it hurts. Not to mention, when I saw you in my hoodie?” His fingers pinch the material. “I thought God was testing me or some shit.”

“Sure didn’t feel like you wanted me that way,” you retort, still breathless.

“In my defence,” Kuroo says, thumbs tracing your cheekbones, “I was very scared.”

“Of what?”

It looks like he’s about to tell you, but he changes his mind and doesn’t answer. He grabs your hand and pulls you back to the car with a cheeky grin. “I’ll tell you only if you tell me where we can watch the sunrise.”

Kuroo holds your hand, stroking your thumb the entire drive there.

After a short hike, you plop down on the grassy hillside, supporting your body with outstretched arms in the back. Kuroo sits down beside you with one of his hands covering yours, fingers intertwined like a honeysuckle vine around a hazel tree. You tell him that you grew up running along this hill with your parents. It used to be your playground. Maybe, you think, it’s time to make new memories here.

“Beautiful,” Kuroo breathes, a wonderstruck look in his eyes. The sun’s just risen halfway above the pink and blue horizon, the saturated orange casting the entire city below gold. It’s not just the city, though. He’s also gold. He’s just as beautiful. You watch him with a soft smile on your lips, noting how his wide eyes and slack jaw return to normal as he stares off into the distance. After resting your head on his shoulder, you fix your eyes on the sunrise ahead. You wonder what he’s thinking so quietly about.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you finally ask once the sun has finished revealing itself.

Kuroo blinks, returning to reality, but continues to stare straight ahead. “I was just thinking about… soulmates.”

You lift your head off his shoulder. “Don’t tell me you believe in soulmates now,” you tease.

“Hmm.” He turns to look at you, the sun turning his hazel eyes the colour of honey. That same wry smirk from Jack’s returns to his face.

“You wanna know why I was so scared?”

“Pray tell.”

“Because I’ve never felt this way towards anyone.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“No,” Kuroo laughs, laying his head down in your lap, looking up into your eyes. “I’m serious. I used to purposely stay away from girls in high school. Same in college. Same all the way until you somehow wormed your way into my life. That’s why we wouldn’t have been friends.” You cock your head to the side.

“Why?” you ask, running your fingers through his hair.

Kuroo’s eyelids flutter shut. He inhales deeply before talking. “My parents are divorced. The years before the divorce were… very ugly.”

(He spares you the details of the midnight arguments, the smashed plates, the holes in the walls. He spares you the details of how he only ever knew how to fall asleep with his head sandwiched between two pillows, how he hasn’t seen his sister in a decade, how he’ll curse and snap but never yell because he always feels like a child again around the noise. That’s for another time, if you’ll have any.)

“I still remember all the fighting and yelling. For the longest time, that’s all I knew about marriage and relationships.”

“Did you think all relationships were like that? Fighting and yelling?” you ask.

“For a while, yeah. I’m still a little scared of that, to be honest. Ending up in a relationship where all you do is fight.” Kuroo sighs. “But that’s not the only thing. I thought I wouldn’t know how to love someone, growing up like that.” At that, your fingers pause in his hair.

“Wait,” you say, furrowing your brows. A wave of immense sadness (not for yourself, for him) washes over you. “You think you wouldn’t know how to love someone else?”

“Thought.” Kuroo cracks open his eyes and smiles up at you. “I’m in the process of changing my mind.”

#kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsurou scenarios #kuroo tetsurou imagines #haikyuu!!

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amjustagirl · 3 years

Note

Omg your writing is amazing!!

I'm a recent follower and I just binge read all your works

But the latest chapter of the sun and the moon tho🤧🤧

I'm a minor btw, and it's srsly hard to find blogs that are good old sfw and not 18+

Do you have any recs??

thank you!!! hahahah well, what can i say - it isn't a nikki longfic without angst >< but well, we shall see in the next few chapters!

hrm - sfw recs? i'd say check out the following blogs:

@eightonenine - yvonne's got amazing sfw fics, and her osamu knight fic lives in my head rent free!!

@violetsoju - lin just broke my heart with her iwaizumi constellation piece, but she's got a lot of cute, fluffy pieces that make my heart shriek (northern lights feat. omi is a fav).

@myelocin - look i'm screamed abt nic's work enough, she's amazing, her work is poetry, and i'm just honoured she blesses us with her presence. redefining me, on the faded side of the photograph, grids in the sky - all favs.

@yurens - do yourself a favour and read through all her (sfw) fics please - yuren is just...talented, writing those soft quiet moments that are either so fluffy they make me wanna die or softly angsty that my heart aches for days afterwards.

@tsukishumai - i'm really really loving cam's recent bokuto fic series love galore so i'd defo rec her work!!!!! plus she's such a lovely human being <3

@luvnami - bb ai is a minor herself HAHA so you'd be v welcome there, AND her fics are so soft and sweet (her ushijima childhood fics!!!) so def go look her up!

@ryuiki - ryu is also a minor, but so so talented!!! i wish i were as talented when i was that age!!! too many fics to choose from, pls go explore and have fun!

@serotorin - rin jie has lovely fluffy fics that are so cute (her kuroo / froyo reader meet cute was sugary sweet 😉) and her blog is so beautiful and aesthetic HELP i have a girl crush.

@fail-big - jenny has so many lovely fluffy fics I cant even keep up and she's a girl boss in her own right (whoo ladies in stem!!)

my bbs i've tagged above - pls lmk if you don't want me to tag y'all okay!! i think y'all are okay with minors, but pls forgive me if i got it wrong ><

#Nikki chats!#Nikki recs!

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megumisbimbo · 3 years

Text

Iced Americano*

Kuroo and Daichi x fem!reader

warnings: smut, fluff, oral (both receiving), protected sex, kuroo and daichi being hot

word count: 2.5k

minors pls don’t interact!

all characters are aged up!

a/n: this was very self indulgent...

Another boring day behind the counter of your college’s local coffee shop. Classes were hard but financing said classes was harder and you ended up having to take a part time job to pay your apartment rent. You didn’t hate it, it was nice meeting new people everyday, and seeing regular friendly faces. But there was one face in particular that never failed to catch your attention.

“What can I get for..you.. the usual i’m guessing?” You say, a shy smile playing across your face.

“Good to see you again y/n, and yes the usual please.” He responds, reciprocating your smile.

He was gorgeous and part of you thinks he knows that too. The way he carried himself with such confidence. He must know the effect he has on you.

“Iced Americano for Kuroo!”

He comes back to the counter and picks up his drink. He notices your eyes on him and flashes his award winning smirk. He slips a napkin across the counter and winks. You glance down at the napkin and read the small message he’s left for you. A simple “call me” with a winky face and his number below it. You couldn’t lie, you were a bit nervous to take the offer, but deep down you really wanted it. As soon as your shift ended you messaged the number.

me: Hi! Is this kuroo-san?

kuroo: It is. Is this the lovely y/n?

me: haha yes it is

kuroo: I’m a bit busy right now y/n, but don’t worry i’ll make a reappearance at the coffee shop tomorrow ;)

me: can’t wait!

Your heart was racing. This small encounter was more than enough to send butterflies rushing through your stomach. Months of pining for the handsome stranger finally paying off. For the first time in a long time, you were really excited for your early morning shift.

The next day finally rolled around and you were happy as can be. Even your coworkers noticed your chipper mood.

“y/n you’re awfully happy today. Something good happen?” Your coworker Yamaguchi asked.

“Hm I guess you could say something happened.”

“Spill. now.”

You giggled as you explained to him all that took place the day before, and how you’re super excited to see him again today. He seems a bit older than you are but you don’t mind. You’re pretty mature for your age, at least you think so.

“Is that him over there?” Tadashi asks, eying a tall “spiky haired man” that just walked in.

“Yes! That’s him! I’m gonna head to the register.”

“Hi Kuroo-san! The usual?” You ask, your eyes falling on the shorter man standing beside him.

The man smiles at you and you can’t help but notice how handsome he is as well. Two handsome men right in front of you. What a lucky day.

“Yes usual for me and a Cappuccino for him. How have you been y/n. Sorry I couldn’t talk very much yesterday, work has been hectic.” He asks leaning over the counter just enough so that you can feel his hot breath on your nose.

You smile and answer back making small talk as you punch in their order.

“Babe, can I get a muffin as well?” The shorter man asks, catching you off guard.

“Yeah which one?”

You stare at Kuroo, a confused look painting your blushing face.

Babe?

“Oh y/n, this is my boyfriend Daichi by the way. Daichi this is y/n, the girl I was telling you about.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you y/n, Kuroo talks about you quite a bit.” Daichi responds, nudging Kuroo in the side.

“y/n...if you’re free tonight..we’d love to have you over for dinner.”

“Dinner?” You ask, contemplating his extremely confusing request. The man was already in a relationship and he was asking you out on a date with him and his boyfriend in front of his boyfriend?

“Um.. Kuroo-san should you really be asking me out..when your boyfriend is uh..right there?”

“He’s interested as well. Unless you aren’t into that kind of thing! If not, we totally understand and we can pretend like this conversation never happened.”

That kind of thing? I mean a poly relationship isn’t something that has ever crossed your mind, but you weren’t against it you suppose.

“Sure I’ll join you two for dinner.” You respond, the smile Kuroo fell for playing across your slightly blushing face.

“Great! I’ll text you our address. We’ll see you tonight y/n.” He responds, giving you yet another wink. Those winks are deadly. They both walk away from the counter and over to the table across from the register, giving them both a clear view of you working.

“TADASHI YOU’LL NEVER GUESS WHAT HAPPENED!”

———

You stand outside the door of Kuroo and Daichi’s shared penthouse apartment. The building was big, beautiful, and very expensive. Your hands shake as they clutch onto the strap of your crossbody bag. You decided to wear the black bodycon dress you had bought for a blind date you never ended up going on. You were glad it was finally being put to good use. You awkwardly stand as your shaking finger presses the doorbell.

Quickly the door is opened, and the sweet face of your regular customer appears.

“Y/n! Glad you made it safely. The drive was not too long was it?”

“Actually I walked, you guys live pretty close to my apartment.”

“Oh well...that’s convenient. Come in, Daichi just finished making dinner.”

You follow Kuroo into the penthouse, your eyes taking in the sight of his multi million dollar home. You had no clue what these two did for work, but you were eager to find out. You get to the dinner table, which has been decorated with different types of food. Your mouth watered at the sight.

“Did Daichi-san make all of this?” You ask Kuroo.

“He did. He’s quite good in the kitchen, unlike myself. I can barely make a piece of toast.”

“More like he almost burnt down the building trying to make a piece of toast.” Daichi says, coming into the dining room with another plate of food.

“This all looks so amazing Daichi-san!”

“Thank you y/n, I’m glad you’re here tonight. Tetsurou has been especially giddy today.”

“Has he?...well I guess..I have been as well. I mean it’s not everyday you get to have dinner with two handsome men.” You say, blushing again. You bite your bottom lip nervously and Kuroo swears he could take you right then and there.

“So what do you two do for work, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Of course not, I work for Japan’s Volleyball Association. I’m in the Sports Promotion Division. Daichi here is a firefighter.” Kuroo explains.

Your eyes widen in wonder. They were both quite successful and obviously rich. You felt lucky they decided to ask a broke college girl out.

“So y/n, are you a full time student at Tokyo University?”

“Yes, but I also work the coffee shop job and I do a few odd jobs here and there. For the college and apartment expenses that is. My scholarship wasn’t enough to cover everything.”

You three continue the small talk, you talk about your school life and clubs you were into. You find out they met while playing volleyball in high school. Once they graduated, Kuroo mustered up the courage to ask Daichi out and of course, Daichi said yes.

Once dinner was over, you offered to help the boys out with the dishes and they insisted you relax on the couch while they finish. You obediently sit and scroll through your phone. Kuroo comes out first and sits beside you. He was close, closer to you than he’s ever been before. He turns his head towards you and meets your fear filled eyes. His eyes land on your lips as he subconsciously licks his own. A hand lands on the skin of your thigh and slowly inches it’s way up. You tense slightly at the action.

“Don’t be scared, I would never do anything you didn’t want me to y/n. But I can’t lie, I wanted to take you right there at that dinner table.”

He pushes your hair behind your shoulder and slots his face in between your neck and shoulder. He places small kisses across your shoulder leading up to your neck, finding the sweet spot that always makes you squirm.

“Kuroo-san wait- what about Daichi-san.”

“He’ll join us in a minute..y/n...may I?”

His hand slides across your lower back and grips your waist as his lips continue sucking on your neck.

“...yes Kuroo-san, please...I want you.”

Something inside Kuroo snapped upon hearing your words. His fingers find the zipper of your dress and slowly he unzips, taking in every small gasp that comes through your parted lips. You looked divine, the most delicious dessert he could have ever asked for. Soon you feel the couch dip on the other side and you whip your head around, Daichi’s sweet smile greeting you.

“Can we make you feel good y/n? We’ll be gentle.”

“Daichi-san..please...more.”

Daichi immediately latches onto your mouth, his tongue prodding at your lips begging for entry. Kuroo trails kisses down your back, following the trail the zipper makes.

“Let’s take this to the room.” Kuroo suggests, both you and Daichi nodding in agreement. You follow the pair down the corridor and into a dimly lit room, a king sized bed adorned with red silk sheets sitting right in the middle. The room was minimally decorated. They must not spend much time in here, that or they’re busy...doing something else.

Kuroo leads you to the edge of the bed. You stand in front of it as Kuroo slips off the rest of your dress. You’re wearing a black set of lace lingerie underneath, and both men are enamored by how stunning you look splayed out on their dark red sheets.

“I want her pussy first.” Kuroo growls.

You sit up quickly as both men crawl towards you as if you were prey and they were starved predators. You felt Daichi’s body against yours first. You scoot back into his chest and lean your head against him. Kuroo’s fingers lock onto the waistband of your little lace panties, which are already thoroughly soaked. He pulls them down and off of you. He bunches it up and stuffs it into your mouth. A finger swipes up your unclothed pussy and you moan into your panties, drool pooling in the bottom of your mouth soaking them even more. Daichi’s hands find purchase on your chest. He gently massages your breasts as you throw your head back onto his shoulder, moans spilling out of your stuffed mouth. Kuroo continues his attack, licking long stripes up your entrance. His lips latch onto your clit sucking and massaging it. His tongue dips into your entrance as the coil in your stomach tightens. The stimulation was overwhelming. Between Daichi fondling you and Kuroo’s work on your pussy, you release faster than you had ever before. Their soft lips and big hands were much better than your small, unskilled fingers. Kuroo diligently laps up your release and sits up. He leans toward Daichi and gives him a sloppy open mouth kiss. You watch in awe as the two make out, Kuroo pulling away first.

“Can you taste her on my tongue?” Kuroo asks, smirking at both of you.

“She’s delicious.” Daichi responds, kissing your neck. He takes a bit of your skin in between his teeth and bites and sucks until he’s sure he’s made a lasting mark. You moan, leaning your head against him, his hands still groping your sensitive tits.

Kuroo leans forward and takes the panty stuffed into your mouth with his teeth, spitting it out on the bed next to you. He slides a condom over himself and lines up his cock, pushing it slowly into your slick entrance. His cock was not very thick but it was long, and it didn’t take very long for him to bottom out completely. Kuroo presses your stomach, feeling the outline of his cock.

“Can you feel that y/n? Can you feel how well I fill you up?”

“S’good Kuroo-san- hngg too much-“

“You can take it baby. I know you can. You wanna be a good girl for us right?”

His thrusts were slow but forceful, each one perfectly hitting your g-spot. The way you clamped down on Kuroo’s cock sent him into a euphoric whirlwind. He gave a few more thrusts and spilled his seed into the condom as your second release gushed around him. Daichi was drooling at the pornographic scene unfolding between his legs. Kuroo pulls his softened cock out, and you whine at the loss of contact. You lean back onto Daichi’s shoulder once again as he leans down to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss.

“Daichi-san..wanna suck you off-please...”

Daichi chuckles at your eagerness and obliges. With the help of Kuroo, you turn around and lean down into his lap, his hardened cock standing tall and leaking beautifully. Kuroo’s arm wraps around your waist keeping you steady, as his lips leave a hot wet trail down your spine. You give the tip of Daichi’s cock a few kitten licks, eliciting a deep groan from the back of his throat. You take the tip into your mouth, your tongue swirling around it while Daichi’s hands grab a fist full of your hair.

“Just like that y/n-mmm...such a good girl.”

Daichi ruts up into your mouth, the tip grazing the back of your throat causing you to gag. Your nails dig into the flesh of his massive thighs, the pain only adding to his pleasure.

His cock feels hot and heavy in your mouth and each bob of your head makes his balls tighten. The feeling of your hot mouth around him sending him over the edge, he can’t take it.

“hnggg- y/n m’coming.”

Soon your throat was painted with thick ropes of hot cum. You swallowed as much as you could, licking your lips as some dribbles down your chin.

Your body went limp landing flat on Daichi’s chest. His hand rakes through your hair as you start to fall asleep.

“We gotta clean you up y/n, don’t fall asleep yet.” Daichi says.

“Let her sleep, we’ll wipe her down for now and wash her in the morning.”

A warm damp cloth meets your sore body as Kuroo wipes you down. Daichi diligently wipes away at your face and mouth giving soft kisses on your hair. Once clean, you were laid down in between the soft silk sheets you were previously clutching. Both men get in on either side of you, massaging the sore muscle of your hips and thighs. Looks like you’ll be skipping class tomorrow.

#kuroo tetsuro smut #daichi sawamura smut #kuroo tetsurou #daichi sawamura #kuroo x reader #daichi x reader #kuroo x daichi #kurodai #daikuroo #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #kuroo x you #daichi x you #🥀 — belladonna

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volleychumps · 3 years

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bro im am: in love with literally everything you put out and i've had this probably really specific, self-indulgent request and am highkey scared it'll flop because not much can relate but it's been living in my mind rent free: remember that one episode where hinata talks to a classmate, saying how it'd be cool to have a band cheer for the vball team?? Well, it gave me an idea, so how about boys of your choice with a musically adept s/o?? she's part of the school band which frequently performs in tournament matches to cheer. her talent made her pretty well-known, though fame can attract both good and bad people—what happens when a guy from the opposing team gets a little too friendly? headcanons or scenarios is also up to you, and feel free to make s/o a crush instead (they aren't dating yet) if that makes the writing process more flexible! thank you so much, and have a lovely day/night!

VolleyBoys with a Crush on Singer S/O

~ when you come and perform at one of their games in order to give school spirit, you’re approached by someone from another team because of your talent, leaving some less than happy boys

format: scenarios

genre: fluff

- includes: Suna, Semi, and Matsukawa

Warning(s): slight cursing, possessive volleyboys

Playing with some characters I’ve never really wrote for before, let me know how I do!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Suna (main vocals)

“You’re staring.”

“Go give your attention to someone who cares.” Suna’s lazy tone was a bit more snipped than usual as the cheers from the crowd finally died down, irritation evident in his tone as Atsumu smirks. The dark-haired blocker could pretend to be as uncaring as he wanted, but his tone gave him away.

“Mad Y/N’s getting all the attention?”

“Nah, he’s pissed because he can’t hog her all to himself anymore.”

Suna rolled his eyes, Osamu merely shrugging alongside his brother as the three towel off in the middle of a break point for Inarizaki’s school band to make their performance. He hated that he loved seeing you up there, a light sheen of sweat on your forehead from the performance, your hair tied back with a wide smile on your face-

he hated seeing everyone see you.

“Yeah, so how’s that going for you? How are you two not dating yet-”

“Kita-san, I think Atsumu and Osamu have questions about the play.” Suna cupped his mouth as the twins stiffen. The dark haired spiker waved mockingly goodbye as his teammates were snatched by the collars, focusing his attention to what he had orginally been quietly watching. He tilted his head as you struggled to open the top of your water bottle, peering at it with a pout before he scoffs, beginning to walk-

“Need help, sweetheart?”

Suna stopped.

You blinked, eyes widening as Kuroo Tetsurou easily twisted the cap off, handing it back to you with a naturally sly grin. He reaches a hand to the back of his neck as you smile in thanks, tilting the water back.

“So the kitty can sing?”

“Kitty?!” You choked on your water, noting his school colors before flushing. Why on earth was the Nekoma team captain flirting with the lead singer of the school band for Inarizaki?

“I’m guessing you liked that.” Kuroo chuckles, patting your back in a more-than-friendly manner as you continue to cough, and your bandmates whistle, pretending not to notice the attractive captain’s advances.

“Untrue. Don’t you have a game to play or something?” There’s no malicious intent behind your words, so Kuroo’s grin turns into a soft smirk as he begins to lean a little closer-

“Gross. You’re all sweaty.”

A towel is pressed to your face, Suna unfazed as you complain against the material. You feel the back of your head touch his chest as Suna pulls you into him with the towel pressed on your face, sharp eyes narrowing ever so slightly as Kuroo’s feral ones remain amused.

“Looks like this kitten is domesticated.”

You break free for a second, popping out of the towel successfully. “I’m not a kitten!”

“Sure, kitten.” Kuroo winks at you again, beginning to walk off before sparing a glance to Suna, nodding once in amusement. You remain distracted, spinning on your heel to face your friend in embarrassment and confusion.

“Why would you-?!”

“Hey.” Suna tilts his head, dull eyes staring into yours as you find it a little harder to swallow.

“What?”

He bends down to your height, flicking the tip of your nose as you begin to protest-

“Good performance. Come meet me after I rock this cat’s ass in this match, yeah?” His palm is warm on top of your head as you find yourself nodding stupidly as he brushes past you to a smiley Atsumu, sharp eyes searching for Kuroo Tetsurou.

“So how’s it going?”

“Go to hell, Atsumu.”

“Is he blushing, Osamu?”

“Yep.”

Semi (Guitarist)

“Out of your league.”

“I literally haven’t said anything.” Semi shoots back at the redhead, and Tendou grins as he also watches your jogging-away figure as you head back for the stage. A scarlet bandana was now tied around your wrist, Semi’s eyes darting everywhere as Tendou’s grin turns sinister.

“Oh? Y/N-chan, will you wear my bandana so I can brand you? I’m begging-!”

“Do you want to punch him or should I?” Semi snips, and Goshiki slowly stops Shirabu from raising his hand as Ushijima props one eye open at the situation from his concentration.

“Why’d you give it to her then?” Taichi asks, genuinely interested as you bop your head to the final song atop the stage, fingering the strings of your guitar with a small smile at your new goodluck charm.

“Are you kidding me? Those two are always joined at the hip, I knew one of them was in love with the other.” Shibraru doesn’t miss a beat as Ojiro chuckles, having noticed that as well. Semi scoffs over the music, as if that were the craziest thing in the world.

“Y/N L/N? As if.”

“Have fun convincing yourself.” Ushijima closes his eyes again just as the song ends, and Semi’s cheeks begin to flare up as he grabs his hair in frustration, an annoying pounding in his chest.

“Well, don’t take too long now.” Tendou sings, looking at an entertaining sight. “If you don’t want Y/N, do you think the pretty boy from Fukurodani wants her?”

Semi stalls, thinking Tendou was playing another one of his mind games before looking as well, mouth drying at the sight.

Akaashi Keiji had offered you a hand as you propped your guitar, making your way off the stage easier as you had seemed worried about getting down before.

The setter’s throat tightened as you accepted, a smile tickling your cheeks as Akaashi helps you off the stage in a gentlemanly manner. You stumble slightly, giggling as Akaashi fondly steadies you by the waist, complimenting you on your performance.

“I could never do that, L/N-san. You’re very talented.”

“It’s really nothing...”

Semi felt it then. Too used to watching from so far away, yet always close enough to keep you in view.

But you stood close to him. Mere minutes before, excited gleam in your eye as he tied the bandana around your wrist, and you had locked eyes with him. It was only for a few moments, calloused fingers almost inching towards his-

“Y/N. I give you this crap and you don’t even use it?” Semi was annoyed, dark eyes flaring as he bounds over to the two of you as you blink in confusion, his teammates watching the spectacle with slight interest. You flush as Semi’s eyes harden in the direction of Akaashi, who’s head tilts slightly.

“What-?”

“Shut it. I’ll do it if you won’t, why’d you even ask?” Semi clicks his tongue as he unties the bandana, pooling your hair into a makeshift knot before barely glancing at the blue-eyed setter, focusing his attention on your hair as he stakes his claim.

“Something you needed with our band captain?”

“Nope. Just glad to have been of some aid. Then...” He nodded to you, but Semi could see the slight disappointment in his eyes underneath the cool atmosphere Akaashi held up as he walked onto the opposite side of the court.

“...Sorry Semi.”

“For what?” Semi questioned, feeling the embarassment beginning to creep up on him, heat tickling his cheeks as he watches you shuffle a bit from the proximity. He felt you shiver once his fingers accidentally grazed the back of his neck, causing Semi’s voice to get caught in his throat.

“Not using your bandana correctly...” You mumbled, the tips of your ears turning pink as Semi watches in bewilderment. A lilt tickled the edge of his lips as he finished tying the scarlet material, leaning down from behind you so his forehead touched your shoulder as if he were exhausted. You tensed up before relaxing, enjoying his touch.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Matsukawa (drummer)

“How far do you think I can go to piss off your little fanboys?”

“Why are you even over here?”

“Moral support, princess.” Matsukawa grinned into his water bottle as you half-heartedly help him wipe the sweat gathered at his neck, your friend flicking off Hanamaki and Oikawa in the distance as they make romantic gestures with their hands as they go unnoticed by you.

“You look like you’re dead tired and it’s only halfway through the game.” You note, handing him back the towel as Matsukawa grins, leaning a little closer to you from his spot next to you on the edge of the stage.

“Careful, you might make me think you care about me.”

“Of course I do.” You don’t miss a beat, already distracted with slipping your drumsticks out of your pocket. Matsukawa’s jaw slackens a little as you get up, nudging him with your foot to get off before shooting him an easy smile.

“We’re friends, aren’t we? Even though you’re kind of an asshole.”

The brunette recovers quickly, Matsukawa smirking as he slips off the stage as you settle back into your drumset.

“You love me, princess.”

“Yeah yeah, go swat a volleyball around.” Your tone is teasing as your bandmates begin to fall back into place, and Matsukawa mockingly salutes you before walking back to his team, ignoring the involuntary replaying of your words in his head.

Of course I do.

He was oddly quiet as Hanamaki teased him, watching as your band fell into a beautiful rhythm led by your hands. Agitation grew in his stomach as it mixed with his stupid crush on you, wanting nothing more than to let all your little fans to become severely disappointed because of him.

Matsukawa Issei was a very possessive man, but it was an underlying kind of possessive. The kind of posessive where he silently protected you from those who were attracted by your talent and style, or the kindness in your smile or witty comebacks-

“Uh, Matsukawa?”

“I don’t give a fuck if you think you’re going to be the best man at mine and Y/N’s nonexistent wedding-”

“No.” Hanamaki grinned, jutting his head in your direction. Matsukawa didn’t even realize the song had ended, watching as Atsumu Miya had picked up your hand, bringing it up to his lips flirtatiously as you stared wide-eyed as if you had busted a fuse.

“Yep. My bad, there will be no wedding.” Hanamaki clasps his shoulder, not realizing the impact of his teasing words. “Because Atsumu Miya’s gonna get her first if you don’t step up your game, bro.”

But Matsukawa didn’t reply with some witty comeback, still watching as Atsumu brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. He didn’t like it. The embarrassed look on your face, the awkward smile on your lips, the laugh in your throat- all caused by someone who wasn’t him.

“How about ya show me how to play those drums sometimes?” Atsumu had taken a step closer, and your fists had clenched as you felt yourself at a loss for words. You had opened your mouth to reply, but all that slipped out was a yelp.

Matsukawa easily threw you over his shoulder, grinning relaxedly at Atsumu who’s flirtatious grin had digressed back to a flat line. You knocked on Matsukawa’s back with embarrassment in your stomach, but the brunette made no move to put you down.

“Sorry, I’m her agent. She’s gotta go meet with her fans.”

“Issei!”

He ignored your chants to put you down as Oikawa and Hanamaki slowly clap as he brushes past them and out the gym doors, a pounding in his ears.

“Why are you doing this?” You question, now in an empty hallway as you hear Matsukawa scoff, still not answering your question as he continues to walk with you slung over his shoulder.

“Issei.”

“I told you I wanted to piss of your fanboys, didn’t I?”

“Tell me the truth!” You raised your voice just as he put you down, and Matsukawa looks at you for a second, your back hitting the wall as he towers over you.

“What?” Your voice was smaller now, feeling like you’ve shrunk under your friend’s serious gaze that was usually anything but. Matsukawa’s hand touches the area above your head, leaning into you so your noses are barely brushing.

“Tell me, princess. Do you still want the truth even if it ruins our friendship?”

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

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