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#kuroo will be the death of me
reverie-starlight · 7 months
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listen I physically cannot handle angst most days unless it ends with lots of fluff, but I kinda want to try my hand at it again... I have so many ideas but I can't even get myself to start angst fics so what do I do ???
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vladimpale · 11 months
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i may have accidentally created a parallel in my pjo au between yamaguchi and akiteru that will really hurt tsukishima. welp what can you do, the boy's gotta suffer
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utahimeow · 2 months
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“kenma?”
“hmm?”
he doesn’t take his eyes off the tv screen where he shoots at enemies left and right, but his ears are all yours.
“who was your first kiss?”
it’s become a habit of yours to watch his fingers move on the controller, long and thin and dexterous, wondering how he manages to move them in such a swift manner that to you seems impossible.
“didn’t have one,” he says, blunt.
“ever?”
“ever.”
“how?” you ask, both surprised and not—though now that you think about it, through all the years you’ve known him, he probably would have told you if he had.
“all i did in middle and high school was play volleyball and game. didn’t have time to kiss anyone. also didn’t care about it,” he admits.
you suppose if he wasn’t with you or kuroo, he was at home, playing video games. but there was that little obsession of his with shoyo hinata… so you guess it wasn’t a crush after all.
there’s only an ounce of hesitation behind what you say next, because yes, kenma’s your best friend and this could change the trajectory of your entire relationship with him, but also it’s kenma. kenma who you’ve shared a bed and clothes with, kenma who’s seen you at rock bottom and who’s wiped your snot and tears away when you were at your lowest, kenma who you’re attached at the hip with.
“what if i was your first kiss?”
kenma doesn’t falter at your words, not even for a second as he plays on expertly, nonchalant as always.
“uhh, why?” he asks, and you’re triumphant. if it was a ‘ew, no, what the fuck?’ then that’s how you’d know you fucked up. but it’s not.
“it kinda makes sense for me to be your first. also, i just wanna know what it’s like to kiss you,” you admit, shrugging your shoulders.
the next few moments are full of nothing but controller sounds and the music from the video game on the tv. in the faint glow that radiates from the screen, you make out a tiny dusting of pink on kenma’s pale cheeks.
eventually he gulps. then, “can we drink first?”
your mouth falls open with an insulted gasp and you have half a mind to smack him over the head.
“if you think i’m ugly you can say that, kozume,” you pout, crossing your arms.
“it’s not because i think you’re ugly, dumbass.”
“then why do you need to be drunk to kiss me?!”
kenma is silent again. he doesn’t have to look at you to know you’re staring at him utterly indignantly.
“because i’m too scared to look you in the eyes right now.”
oh.
now you get it.
kenma kozume is such a virgin. and you want him so incredibly badly. in fact you have to restrain yourself from jumping into his lap and kissing him until he can’t think straight.
instead you slide off the couch and head towards his fridge, grab two bottles of asahi and the bottle opener from the utensil drawer before padding back over to the couch, sitting an inch or two closer to kenma than you were before.
you click one bottle open for him, then one for yourself, then without a hint of hesitation you take a confident swig until you’re near chugging the drink.
“chill,” kenma says, side-eyeing you after taking a swig from his own bottle. “don’t want you pulling a himeno on me.”
you let out a noise that’s half-scoff and half-laugh, smacking at his arm. “don’t joke about that. that scene was traumatic.”
two bottles of beer later, kenma’s in-game reflexes start to waver. he’s no longer as sharp as usual, though his tipsy state still trumps the skills of an average player. meanwhile, your head floats with the buzz of alcohol—well, it hovers.
“kenmaaa,” you whine, shaking his arm, when all of a sudden his character is shot to death and the screen pauses as if to deliberately rub his defeat in his face. you stifle a giggle while he runs his hands over his face, though you’re pretty sure it’s not because he lost.
“what?” he asks, but he fails at conveying any real irritation towards you. his voice is small, frail almost.
“i wanna kiss you,” you say. your fingers still cling to the fabric of his hoodie sleeve. kenma’s entire body burns from it. he’s so fucked.
“okay, fine,” he says, turning his body to finally face you and criss-crossing his legs on the couch. “this feels awkward though, how are we-”
and you’ve waited long enough for this, and the alcohol that buzzes through your system makes you throw all your morals out the window, and you’re grabbing him by fistfuls of his hoodie and dragging him towards you until your lips smash—literally—together, and finally he shuts up.
you’re not sure what overcomes you, but you’re kissing him like you’re hungry, not quite ravaging him, but years of yearning deep inside of you bubbles to the surface and fills you with desperation.
also, you’re tipsy.
it’s not long before you come back to your senses a little and remind yourself that this is just his first kiss. go easy on him, maybe?
you move away, slowly, as though trying not to startle him, to find a pair of golden feline eyes blinking back at you. they’re swimming with something unintelligible, something akin to… need? you think you must be seeing things. you’re tipsy, after all.
the silence that hangs over the pair of you is heavy—too heavy. it hurts your shoulders. you laugh so that it goes away, covering your face as though kenma’s timidness was contagious and has now spread to you.
eventually, when you peer back up at him, he’s grinning almost… triumphantly. despite the blush that covers his entire face, he looks victorious. his face replaces any words he could say, and he turns back to his game without a word.
you, however, struggle to keep your thoughts to yourself.
“can we do that more often?” you ask, leaning your frame against his, nuzzling your face into his warmth.
“yeah, we can.”
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hana-no-seiiki · 3 months
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REINCARCERATION
tw/cw: reincarnation shenanigans, (implied) yandere themes, mentions/descriptions of cheating, angst, sadist reader, yandere! cheater, very revenge p*rn-ey and suggestive but no smut.
inspired by @miyaagis cheater kuroo series and @cassanderasblog ‘s reincarnated ceo husband oc
(literally wrote this as comfort)
“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You keep doing things that hurt you in the long run.”
You stared at the man in front of you. The man you once married in another life before you died and reincarnated.
His broken, bloodied self in front of you. Beaten up by the people you’ve personally sought to send after him.
He died in your previous life too of course. Only that his death was far too boring, and out of your sight.
“Why- why? I thought you loved me. I thought you didn’t think those dreams were true. Th-“ He lets out an agonizing grunt as a wound opened up with all his yapping. Really, the man wouldn’t shut up around you. “That you didn’t care about it anyways!”
“And you were stupid enough to believe it!” You laughed. Genuinely laughed. Finally, after years of being haunted by those dreams of the man you once loved fucking his sidepiece you finally had a moment of happiness. Even if it was at the expense of him. “I know right? You’re even more gullible than I thought.”
You traced the outline of his bulge. One that had been screaming for release since the moment you revealed your true intentions. A reaction from him that proved your thoughts.
The man was a masochist.
You had been too nice. A perfect spouse to the majority. But that wasn’t what he wanted.
And there was only one way to truly hurt a masochist like him.
“This is goodbye then.”
You leave them behind. A prison of their own loneliness.
One that you’ll make sure he never escapes from.
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mintmatcha · 4 months
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The door closes with a bump of your hip and toss your keys into the bowl. The mumble of the television carries through the hall, marked by the sudden, shaky sound of a cough. You slip off your shoes and walk into the living room, knowing he'll be exactly where you left him.
Kuroo is the epitome of pathetic. Dressed in only his pj pants, he's sprawled across the couch, limbs limply hanging over the sides. Used tissues are scattered on his chest and another one is stuffed into his chapped nose; it bobs as he turns to you and sighs.
"Hey, sicky." You muss his hair before dotting a kiss against his forehead. "How are you feeling?"
"Awful. Horrible." Kuroo's voice is starting to come back, but it's still mostly scratches and jumps. "Worse than death."
It's the flu - he'll be fine in a couple of days. "Poor thing."
"Yeah, I am a poor thing." Kuroo clutches your hands with the voracity of a dying Dicken's character. "I'm supposed to be in America right now. America, baby. The home of deep-fried twinkies."
You do feel a little bad; he was really looking forward to this work trip, but his company didn't want to put a sick man on a plane.
"There'll be other trips," you try, "And other unhealthy smacks."
"Sigh." He says the actual word. "Sigh. And it's so boring here without you. I cleaned the fridge so I didn't die of boredom."
You go to coo again, then pause.
"Wait, really?" You had been putting that off longer than you'd like to admit.
"Yeah, I did the whole kitchen." He sighs again. "And the bathroom."
"The whole bathroom?"
"Even the floor."
Oh. Your heart flutters a bit. You had been lamenting over having to scrub the floor. Kuroo is a good partner, but he's never been one to clean on his own volition. Hell, you can barely get him to pick his laundry off of the floor. The fact that he cleaned without being asked...
You're a little giddy over it.
"Would taking a bath in our clean bathroom make you feel better?" You push his bangs to the side and watch them bounce back.
"I already took a shower today."
Your fingers trail down to his neck. "Would taking a bath with me make you feel better?"
"Are you horny right now?" He points to the tissue jammed into his nostril. "Really?"
"I'm a simple woman: you clean my house and my pussy gets wet."
He barks out a laugh, only to cut himself off with a wheezing coughing fit. When he finally catches his breath, his poor little eyes are red rimmed and wet.
"I'm too sick to give you a good performance."
You debate kissing him, then think better of it.
"Don't worry," you say, "I'll do the work."
Kuroo cackles softer this time, toothy grin biting into his lower lip.
"Can we do that thing you never let me do?"
"Let's see how clean the bathroom is - then, we'll talk."
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emmyrosee · 8 months
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She got her quiet sneaking in from you.
Kenma’s fingers tap roughly on the controller in his hands, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in focus. He’s died four times to this monster, its shrieks of agony scaring him once embarrassingly in front of his chat, the other three deaths because, now that he’s past being scared, Kenma realizes what a damn hard boss this is.
“Chat, I’m telling you right now, if I see this dev in the streets, I’m taking a crowbar to their knee caps- this is a promise, not a warniIIIIIIING!”
He lurches from the gentle tug of his elbow, heart sinking to his chest in complete fear and acceptance that this is it for him, he’s dead. His arm is ripped away from the source, but when he hears a tiny gasp in fear, Kenma’s heart beats calmly again.
“Daddy okay?” Maesi asks, and kenma pauses the game to turn to her.
“You startled me baby,” he teases, and she blocks up at him with doe eyes to coax him to forgive her. As if she really needs to do that. “But what’s up beautiful?” He asks, putting down his controller and stretching. “How are you, angel?”
Maesi hums and passes her father the plate, her eyes peering up at him timidly- a trait he wants to blame on you, but every time, he’s met with a cocked eyebrow from you. “Want french fry?”
Kenma chuckles and nods, “I mean, you know I’m never gonna say no to fries,” he says, reaching down to grab the lukewarm fry from her tiny plastic plate. God knows how long they’ve been out, at least four hours; but that doesn’t stop kenma from letting his little girl take care of him in her own way. “You wanna be in daddy’s stream? Say hi to chat?” When she nods, Kenma lifts her up and into his lap, and once done, he reaches over to pick up another fry. In his headphones, Kenma hears that he got a donation.
Thank you kuroosassscheek for gifted 75 subs: hey Kenma there’s something behind you
“Thank you, Kuroo,” he scoffs. “Spawn, say hi to chat and uncle Tetsu.”
“Hi chat, hi uncle Tetsu,” she hums shyly, and Kenma kisses her temple around his chewing. “What playin’?”
“Daddy’s playing a scaaaary game,” he says, voice hiked slightly while he gasps. Maesi giggles before passing him another fry, which he takes quickly.
“Gonna have nightmare,” she warns.
Kenma raises his brows in agreement, “mommy’s gonna have to tuck me in.”
“Me too,” she mumbles, curling into Kenma’s hoodie, nose burrowing into his neck and tickling his skin slightly. “Play Star Valley?” She asks.
He hugs her tightly with a fake groan of effort, and she giggles happily, “you want to watch daddy play Stardew Valley?”
“Yeah..”
“Does mumma know you’re in here?”
Maesi is quiet- he chuckles and shakes his head, letting her get comfortable against him. He knows you’re not far, probably asleep on the couch, and Kenma prepares himself to potentially have to carry his two sleeping babies to bed.
“Alright- one second chat,” he says simply, grabbing his controller to change the game to the easy, calming game Maesi loves to watch him play. “We’ll pick that up tomorrow. Gotta protect myself from nightmares.”
Once again, Maesi lets out a little laugh; she tucks her face as close as she can to him, only shifting to grab another fry to munch on. He tips his head slightly again, to plant a kiss on the crown of her head, the soothing music in his headphones gets placed on her head, and before kenma can start any of his tasks, he feels Maesi’s breathing even out, her plate of fries and nuggets placed somewhere on the desk for him to take.
And that’s okay. He’ll play for a while, just in case she wakes up, and he’ll let her sleep in confidence in her fathers arms. Kenma’s pleased as the numbers in his stream doesn’t immediately drop: it stays, even now as it’s been hijacked by the one he loves most.
This 🥺🩷
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satoruxx · 11 months
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weakness.
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cw: suggestive, implied 18+ content
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he considers himself to be a strong person. no matter what hardships he endured in life, there were very few things that could shake his resolve. he believes this, he’s sure of it.
but he’s questioning his strength now. he’s questioning everything he believed about himself as he glances down at you, eyes taking in the sleepy pout on your face. it’s okay, he can figure this out, he tells himself as he reaches out to smooth down a few stubborn strands of your hair, mussed with sleep.
“i have to get up, sweetheart. you know that.”
you groan, reaching for his fingers and curling your palm around them. he can already feel his determination waver as you squirm a little, looking oh so inviting in the midst of his sheets. “you don’t have to.” you answer, a teasing lilt in your voice. “you can stay here with me for a little while longer.”
he bites back a groan, steeling himself as he tries to give you a disapproving frown. he doesn’t succeed. “if i lay back down, i’ll never get up. there’s work to do.”
he’s not sure if he’s trying to convince you or himself but before he can even decide, you sit up and press your lips to his. he immediately sinks into you, every thought flying out of his brain because what else could he possibly think of right now. you giggle breathlessly against his lips, eliciting a somewhat exasperated smile from your lover.
you tug on his hand, silently begging for him to please stay because you don’t know how you can manage to be away from him for the whole day. it doesn’t take much for his body to indulge you, immediately falling back to cover you with his broad frame, his lips pressing against yours eagerly. his soft groan echoes through the room as you effectively seduce him back into your embrace.
a soft beg of his name and he’s putty in your delicate hands, breathing heavily through his nose as he lets his arm wrap around your waist, teasing the exposed skin he finds.
“you’ll be the death of me.” he whispers into your mouth, though he sounds far too pleased for it to be a complaint.
you laugh almost proudly, cheeks flushed at his attention and eyes fluttering at the sensations his wandering fingers are causing. another breathless moan escapes you as you gently fist his hair. “you love me.”
his lips pull away for a second before they attach to the sensitive column of your neck, sucking purpled bruises into your heated skin. he finds himself a little frustrated that he physically cannot be closer to you. your voice echoes in his ears and his grip around you tightens imperceptibly. “yeah,” he all but whispers, like he’s telling your skin a secret. “yeah i really do.”
he forgoes words after that, too lost in your warmth and affection to care about any other responsibilities. because truthfully there wasn't a single thing you could ask for that he wouldn’t willingly give you.
he might be strong, but in front of you, he’s nothing but weak.
DILUC RAGNVINDR, jing yuan, gojo satoru, nanami kento, levi ackerman, childe, kaeya alberich, GETO SUGURU, toji fushiguro, kujo jotaro, kaveh, kuroo tetsuro, dan heng, kamisato ayato, artem wing, zhongli, takami keigo, cyno, alhaitham, iwaizumi hajime, gepard landau, bruno bucciarati, and any of your favs i missed!
a/n: sorry i was really going through it lmao...
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kira-fluff · 24 days
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reaction to finding out you have a chronic disease | fem!reader x haikyuu!!
this idea popped into my head in the shower. shower thoughts are the best. as a chronically ill person such as myself (mentally and physically, LOL!) i felt maybe I was a little qualified to write this. these are all diseases i experience! i can def write some that i am not diagnosed with :) i'm a biology nerd, so i love learning new things, especially about diseases! some of these are more serious than others. i tried to keep the disease symptoms/descriptions general so it can appeal to more diagnoses (for example, nosebleeds are indicative of several different diseases) that way more people can feel represented by what i write!
‼️warnings: mentions of blood, nekoma team being dorks, seizures, WAY too many ellipses (sorry I just love them), pointless bantering (oikawa), dramatic af, osamu described as "caked-up" (sorry not sorry), railing on atsumu for shits and giggles, deep hatred of the word moist
want to see a different haikyuu character's reaction? request here! also, if you want to read a specific disease represented, i can see if i can put it in there too :)
✿ kuroo tetsuro "hey when do you want to- OH MY GOD ARE YOU OKAY?!" blood dripped from your nose onto the gymnasium floor. "oh. another nosebleed. my bad, I'll clean that up..." you said apathetically. "hey, this is sort of a big deal, ya know? shit... yaku, I need a towel or something!" he shouted. they really weren't anything serious. ever since you were little, you had frequent nosebleeds. your mom wrote it all off as the cold weather (even in summer), so it wasn't really that big of a deal to you either (until a few doctor visits later). still, the apathy you felt toward your predicament remained. yamamoto had already rushed over at his captain's call. "does she need an ice pack, too? fuck, I don't know what to do...." "aren't you supposed to tilt your head up?" one member asked. "no, no i think you're supposed to tilt your head down...." another muttered. "GUYS, GUYS I GOT IT. GOOGLE SAYS TO 'sit down and tilt your head forward, pinching the top part of your nose above the nostrils for like, 10 to 15 minutes.'" lev sat back proudly, phone in hand. "can't believe you were smart enough to look that up..." kenma whispered under his breath. "hey, hey, look at me. you still with us?" kuroo said, a hand on either side of your face. despite the towel against your nose, you couldn't help but laugh. "oh my god, guys! it's not like I'm dying! this happens all the time." "but that's not...normal. did you ever get it checked out?" kuroo stared at you inquisitively, his brow raised. his fellow teammates nodded. you sighed. "look, unless there's a lot of excessive gushing or anything like that, they said i should be okay. yes there's a whole disease behind it all with a long-ass name that no one can pronounce and yes there are sometimes other symptoms that could result in death, but I'm totally fine, okay? I'm perfectly healthy!" "you poor, fragile angel..." lev said, a hand on his chest, distraught. "that... does NOT make me feel more relieved. at all. in fact, I'm more worried. should we go to the hospital? that one looked a little... gush-y...." kuroo said, pacing back and forth before setting his eyes back on you. removing the towel from your nose, you shook your head. "no. look, bleeding nose already gone, see? I'm not going to the hospital. I'm completely fine. relax, kuroo." kuroo stared at you for another moment, taking in your expression, searching for any signs of discomfort. at last, he sighed. "ok. fine. I concede. but if you ever feel the littlest bit unwell, tell me or one of us, okay?" after your agreement, and several more minutes of doting from both your boyfriend and all the other team members, you at last parted ways. as you got out of the shower that night, your phone lit up with a notification. tetsu 💕 [11:23pm]: I'm serious about what I said back there. please talk to me when you aren't feeling good. you mean so much to me that I can't imagine what life would be like without you. sleep well, babe. love you.
✿ osamu miya "damn are you o-- OKAY, YEAH, NO. SHE'S NOT OKAY." it was your average day as a supportive, amazing, fantastic girlfriend watching your iconic, sexy, hot, caked-up boyfriend play volleyball with his piss-haired twin and the rest of the team of inarizaki. unfortunately for you (and the entire volleyball team), inarizaki had a recent issue with their air conditioning units. even more unfortunate was the fact that the fans in the gymnasium were practically there for decoration, that's how useless they were. despite it being late march (still quite cool outside), the players and spectators were drenched in sweat. still, you weren't about to let a little (lot) bit of sweat deter you from cheering for your mans! so, you remained in the stands, cheering as loudly as you could (except for the times when you couldn't because atsumu was once again on his I'm About To Serve Power Trip). it was finally nearing the end of the game, and thank GOD it was because you were starting to feel reaaalllly light-headed. at the final score of the match, you stood up, but oh, was that a mistake. suddenly, you legs started shaking. the lights suddenly seemed to dim down and black spots were popping up in your vision. maaaaybe you should sit back down. wait. where is "back down"? it suddenly occurred to you that at this point, you couldn't see anything. beginning to panic, you started reaching out to find something to hold onto, thankfully finding the stair railing of the bleachers in your grasp. slowly, you blindly fumbled your way down the steps of what you hoped were the bleachers steps. you heard someone shout something along the lines of, "you good?" you were far too panicked and far too focused to give a reply. don't fall down. don't fall down. don't faint. don't pass out. you chanted in your head like a mantra. you heard the squeak of shoes against the ground and voices talking back and forth around you when suddenly a steady hand grabbed ahold of you just above your elbow. guess that was all you needed before your consciousness flickered, then extinguished.
-
"....cold like ice...." "...pale as hell...." you could only hear snippets of sentences, and your eyelids felt heavy. "....have something....with sugar, preferably...." when you finally opened your eyes, you were no longer in the gym, but in inarizaki's nurse's office. "hey..." you turned, now noticing the other occupant of the otherwise empty room. "'samu... did I faint again?" his eyebrows rose. "again? like, you've done this before?" "yeah. happens a lot. 's fine though. was a little scary back there for a minute, though." "damn, I'll say. I've never seen someone so pale. and sweaty. and that's saying something, cuz post-practice 'tsumu is disgustingly moist." "'samu, I love you, but never say that fucking word again." "what, moist?" you cringed, grabbing at your ears, "ugh, yes! I'm already dying here and now you're nailing the final mark in the coffin." osamu gave his signature half-smile. "I thought you said you were fine?" you scoffed, "that was just to make you feel better. I'm gonna need lots of cuddles tonight to wave off my near-death experience." he let out a light-hearted laugh. "okay. plenty of that for you regardless of whether you're on death's door or not." he said, giving you a small peck. you pursed your lips. "I need you right now, though." his face split in a full grin as he slid next to you on the small bed. "anything for you darlin'."
✿ oikawa toru "please... please be okay..." you had been enjoying your regular weekday study session. it always went as follows: meet up after class, head off to aoba johsai's library, study (and perhaps get slightly off-topic over some vending machine snacks and drinks), and at last, go to volleyball practice (perks of being a manager!). "ok, ok, we should probably finally look at what we're supposed to know for our next english exam," oikawa said, still in between chuckles. "but toru... i can't go on without a drink..." you clutched your throat dramatically. "must... have.... beverage.... dying of.... thirst!" oikawa laughed again, "geez, fine!" he said, attempting to sound annoyed by your request (and failing miserably). "I'll go grab us something to drink. on me." he winked. "wow. what a gentleman. you really spare no expense, spoiling me with luxurious drinks from the beverage box of wonders! oh how lucky I am to have such a supportive boyfriend..." you leaned back on your chair, drying a fake tear of gratitude, while simultaneously stifling a giggle. "damn, ok. fork out the yen, then, babe." "nooooo~~~ I was kidding! I'm sorry you're the best ever in the whole wide world~~~ my little piglet oinkawa~" "ok now you're paying for my drink too." "I'm sorry!!!! I won't call you oinkawa ever again." "thank you-" "to your face." after at least 15 minutes of more bickering (and no studying) oikawa was off to the so-called beverage box of wonders, also known as a shitty-ass vending machine that was probably last refurbished in the '90s. oikawa was still laughing to himself as he rounded the corner to the library, drinks in his arms. "hey babe, are you finally studying?" he smirked, finally nearing your small alcoved study area.
- thud, thud. the long-forgotten drinks fell to the floor as oikawa rushed over to you. there you convulsed on the ground, your eyes white and pupil-less, and your mouth foaming, turning a slight twinge of pink. you let out small grunts, completely unresponsive. "oh my god, oh my god, hey, hey listen to me." oikawa was already in full-fledged panic mode, tapping your face with his hand. "oh my god, SOME PLEASE HELP HER!" the few left in the library looked over at oikawa, then at you, before beginning to run about. one was on their phone speaking to a 911 operator, another rushed out of the room. one kneeled alongside oikawa, checking helplessly for a pulse. "protect her head." a girl read out from her phone. oikawa immediately shed his jacket, placing it under your head which was hitting the ground rapidly to the incongruent rhythm of your convulsions. "check her bag, does she have any meds?" "SHE'S MY FUCKING GIRLFRIEND I THINK I'D KNOW IF SHE HAD MEDS!" oikawa shouted. he didn't mean to snap, but he felt so useless. were you hiding this from him? how did he not know you had seizures? were they always this bad? despite what he'd told the unnamed student, oikawa, jumped up, grabbing your bag and nearly ripping the zipper with the force he'd opened it with. no medication. "no meds." he said, quieter this time. a hand rested on his shoulder. "it's gonna be okay, man. look, she stopped." oikawa whipped his head over to you, chastising himself for removing his eyes from you for even a second. you were still breathing, but it was like you were in a deep slumber. by the time the EMTs arrived, however, you'd begun blinking your eyes lazily at your surroundings.
- "hey oikawa." you said, smiling. oikawa said nothing in return, his head in his hands. you sat there for a moment, taking in your surroundings. "wait a minute, where am i?" you felt a tickling inside your nose. at the touch of your hand, you realized you had a breathing tube hooked up you. another glance around the sterile hospital room showed your heart rate monitor and other cords wrapped up around the hospital bed. you laughed, "...and what's all this stuff on me?" "you had a seizure." oikawa said sharply, though not unkind. you stared at him once more in disbelief. "...really?" "yeah. I came back from getting our drinks when...when I found you lying on the ground, shaking. the doctor says you bit your tongue, which explains why the foam that was coming out of your mouth was pink. they want to do an MRI on you." "oh." you gazed down, then met his eyes again. "you... had to deal with that all by yourself?" "other people in the library helped me... though I don't think I was the nicest guy to be around. its sort of all of a blur." you smiled, "for me, too. I can barely remember what we were talking about before I woke up." oikawa's eyes widened, "really?" "yeah... but I think I'll be okay, as long as you're here." "this hasn't happened before, has it?" "no, not really. I mean, I've always gotten light-headed easily, which is sort of how I felt before I, ya know... went down... but never like that. I don't think. then again, if I wasn't here in a hospital bed, I think I would've just thought I fell asleep or something. it just feels like I took a long nap. still kind of tired, honestly." oikawa shook his head. "I'm never letting you out of my sight ever again." "oikawa, seriously. it's gonna be okay. I'm fine. nothing bad happened, right? I didn't die." "BUT YOU COULD'VE!" he shouted. "...you could've.." he said again in a whisper. suddenly, he got up. leaning over the hospital bed, he pressed his lips to your temple, leaving a soft kiss in its wake. "I just... I don't want to see you suffering. I don't want you to get hurt." "but you were there." "but what if I wasn't?" "but you were." you slid your hand over his own. "oikawa, it's gonna be okay, I promise. I'm a little scared, too, but... I know we'll figure something out, okay?" he let out a mix between a sigh and a laugh, "why does it feel like I was the one who had the seizure? some boyfriend I am, making you feel worse." "oikawa shush." you placed you index finger over his lips. "you're not allowed to talk about yourself in that way in my presence." he rolled his eyes, but his dimples popped out in a wary smile. "you're amazing, you know that?" you imitated deep-thought, your finger on your chin. "hmm... no, doesn't ring a bell." a full grin bloomed across his face now. "then I'll spend the rest of my life reminding you."
a/n: romanticize the source of your medical bills girlies 💕 it works wonders
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heartsoji · 1 year
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truth or dare?
summary: kuroo has a very special dare for you...
kenma x reader
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"y/n! truth or dare?" kuroo yelled, pointing his finger at you.
you didn't hesitate for a moment. "dare."
the circled ooooo-ed as kuroo thought really hard about what he wanted your dare to be.
after around a minute had passed, he looked up at you with a devious smirk that sent shivers down your spine.
"i dare you..." he started, "to kiss your crush on the cheek."
the nekoma volleyball team gasped and began to murmur among themselves.
"y/n's crush?"
"lucky bastard!"
"i bet it's me."
"no, it's not."
whilst the team was trying to figure out who the mystery guy could possibly be, you were just sitting there, sending a nasty death glare to kuroo while he just grinned at you like a cheshire cat.
"what if my crush isn't here?" you challenged.
"he is."
louder oooo's filled the room as they tried to guess who it could be, not bothering trying to be quiet about it now.
"it's probably kai, the lucky bastard!"
"no, no, it's definitely me!"
"lev, shut up."
"who the hell is it?! i'll fight him!"
"yamamoto."
"yep, yaku-san."
"hey kenma," yamamoto called out to the fake blonde sitting outside the circle on his game boy, "who do you think it is?"
he blinked. "think what is?"
"you little- haven't you been listening? y/n's crush. he's in the room." he tsked, putting extra enunciation on the words "y/n's crush."
your cheeks turned mad red and you instantly tried to defend yourself. "he might not be!"
"he is."
"kuroo, you little-!" *SMACK*
"ow! that huuuurt y/n-chan!"
kenma turned his attention back to his game as you held your breath. "dunno. it doesn't really affect me."
your heart sank.
yamamoto sighed. "how kenma of you. this is a big deal!"
but it would affect him. because if you went on with the dare, his cheek would be the one meeting your lips. but if he didn't care, that definitely meant that he didn't reciprocate. then again, kenma remained indifferent about a majority of topics, even ones he was interested in, so just maybe? but it was unlikely, and you really didn't want to ruin your friendship with him when it only started a year ago.
"moving on," kuroo interrupted, wanting to get on with it, "our precious manager-chan here has to complete the dare."
"i'd kick you in the balls if i wasn't so nice." you snarled.
he just grinned in response.
you sighed, knowing that there really wasn't away out of this.
"ok, everyone has to close their eyes."
"what?"
"why?"
"man.."
"everyone has to close their eyes for my pride and privacy. close your eyes, guys. if you open them, you'll be betraying my trust and i would hate you."
everyone gasped. no one wanted that. so, they all complied with your wishes, including kenma, even though he wasn't really playing.
when all the eyes were closed, you tiptoed over to kuroo to whisper a "i really hate you for this. i trusted you with that info, man. now, thanks to you, my friendship with him might be ruined forever. i'm seriously mad at you, kuroo."
you meant it. you were actually really scared for what might happen with kenma. you confided in kuroo so that he could find out what kenma thought of you for you with the condition that he not tell a soul, but he refused to tell you anything when you asked about what kenma said about you, so it ended up being a worthless exchange.
you then tiptoed around the circle, stomping your feet, stopping, and making kissy noises occasionally to try to ensure that they didn't know who it was.
finally, you made a loud smooch in the air right above kenma, and then, heart pounding out of your chest, you leaned down and gave him a gentle peck to the cheek.
you took a second to analyze his reaction, and you noticed an immediate change in the color of his ears. he quickly pulled his hood over them to cover it up, and slowly, his pretty eyes fluttered open. he gave you a small, shy smile before averting his gaze, a flustered look on his face.
that reaction was...good, right?
you walked around the circle once more for good measure, standing extra long in certain spots to ensure that the team wouldn't know.
finally, you returned to your spot in the circle.
"open your eyes."
the team's eyes shot open and they quickly started trying to figure out who the lucky boy was.
"kai, be honest. was it you?"
"no, it wasn't."
"don't lie!"
"i can't believe it wasn't me..."
"lev, the only certainty we had about who it was was that it wasn't you."
while everyone was trying to figure it out, you looked up at kenma, who was already staring at you. you quickly averted your gaze before returning back to him.
he gave you a smile that released a whole butterfly farm in your stomach and gently formed a phone signal with his hand before mouthing, "call me."
i guess you wouldn't be too mad at kuroo.
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tetsuskei · 3 months
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‘too-too’ - kuroo tetsurō [fluff]
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notes: repost. also inspired by work (yay capitalism) and self indulgent. wrote this for a piece of mind, if you will.
warnings: toxic work habits, etc, bad title names, not edited completely
word count: 1.4k
“is everything alright?”
your eyes snap up to your coworker, kuroo tetsurō. he leans against your cubicle. tall, muscular figure moving to look down at you with concern.
you blink, fingers pausing their movements over your keys. “what do you mean?”
kuroo is a strange individual. he’s funny, and nerdy, and a little clumsy sometimes (you’ve seen him burn his hand one too many times with hot coffee). but he has a good heart. one probably made of gold. he’s always genuine when it comes to his actions.
“i’ve just been noticing the boss has been piling a lot of work on you as of lately…i didn’t know if maybe you were overwhelmed.” he suggests, shrugging. he stuffs his hands in his pockets and peers over to the stack of files on your desk. “that all need to get done today?”
you sigh, running your hand through your hair, “no, but they will need to by the end of the week. i can handle it all though, with a couple of late nights. i appreciate your concern, kuroo.” you send him a weak smile.
at work you’re known as the one who can handle anything and everything with no complaints. your boss seems to hold you in high regards to it, coworkers are jealous of your ability, and your family has always been proud of how hardworking you are.
the only problem is, people take advantage of this. they ask for your help on minor things, interrupt you when you’re clearly busy, or assume you’ll have the time and tell your boss you’ll take care of it (without your notice).
kuroo is one of the only people who doesn’t do that. he genuinely comes up to you for conversation and asks about you. he’s taken you out to lunch (usually by force to drag you away from your work), brought you coffee, and always made sure you’re okay.
you don’t want to say his actions have caused a small crush to develop, but you’d be a horrible, horrible liar. after spending so much time with him, you begin to see just how handsome his features are. how sharp and angular his jawline and cheekbones are, how he laughs and has dimples appear, how his hazel eyes sparkle with mischief whenever he tells a (horrible) joke—
suddenly fingers are snapping in front of you and you’re brought back to the present.
“you sure you’re good?” kuroo looks down at you with concern and you feel your heart swell a bit. “you’re spacing out.”
“peachy!” you respond, and feel your cheeks get warm. you hope he doesn’t notice. “I couldn’t be any better!”
his perceptive eyes pensively train on you. “well, I’ll be on my way then. don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything.”
“sure.” you nod, smiling.
and just as stubborn as you are, kuroo is more stubborn.
for the next few days, the man is always lingering around when you’re working late.
“what a coincidence, i’m here late, too! need a buddy?” and he’s already invading his way into your space before you can say ‘no’.
you feel as if there’s something he isn’t telling you, but you don’t ask.
the two of you share ordered dinner, chatting and bantering. time goes a lot faster with him, and you think it’s because he’s made you more productive (despite his antics), but you also know it’s because it’s him.
“you know it’s okay to ask for help, right?” kuroo points out again one day. “you don’t have to take on everything by yourself.”
“well, what do you know?” you say spitefully.
he senses your offense, and he knows quickly explains, “i-i’m not saying you can’t handle things, but you shouldn’t work yourself to death. i mean, you’re amazing at what you do, and—“
“look, i’ve been in your shoes before, and i know the feeling all too well. i just know it doesn’t feel great.” he finishes.
“thank you, kuroo.” you smile, “and I’m sorry for snapping at you…maybe i’m just tired and need a break.”
he perks up at this, “then why don’t we go do something?”
you shake your head, “i can’t…i have to finish this.”
“don’t worry. it’s already done.” he assures.
your mouth falls open, “how…?”
he laughs nervously, “well, don’t hate me when I say this…”
you narrow your eyes teasingly. “can’t promise that. but how bad can it be?”
“i rallied up those coworkers you talked to and told them you weren’t available to help them because we’re going on a date.” he confesses, scratching the back of his head. “may have also threatened them to not take advantage of you again…”
you sputter, choking on your food, “a date? like…a romantic date?”
“if that’s what they assume, then yes. which by the way, did you know people think we’re dating?”
there’s another strike to your heart, “they do?! but…how? why?”
he hides his face in his hand, cheeks a light pink, “dunno, maybe it’s because i spend most of my time with you…”
you’re shocked at his words, feeling like you need someone to pinch you. “really?”
“really.” he nods, leaning in towards you. “i thought it was obvious but I guess not…” he laughs.
you shake your head. “i didn’t want to assume anything, so i just thought you were being nice.”
“i mean, yes and no. i always like helping people, but i’d really use any excuse to talk to you.” he admits with a goofy grin. “but i’m sorry if i’ve made you uncomfortable in anyway.”
“no…i just didn’t think you’d feel that way about me, too.”
“‘too’?” he parrots.
you’re quiet for a moment and then say, “well maybe i have feelings for you and wasn’t going to confess unless i knew you liked me back. you do, right?”
“yes! i like you too—too!” he exclaims, probably louder than he means to. “i mean—“
you giggle, “i like you too-too, tetsu.”
he relaxes, like a weight has come off his shoulders. “well, as your date, i say we leave here. one more file to look at and i’ll cut my own head off.” he says.
“agreed.” you nod, standing up alongside him.
you both pack your things up and soon make your way outside. you’re brutally reminded of the cold autumn air as you feel it hit you in the faces.
a shiver comes over you, and you shrink within your own coat, trying to retain any and all warmth.
“here,” kuroo quickly wraps his scarf around you and you quickly smell mint and some form of expensive cologne. you bury you face in it and feel more at ease.
“thank you.” you gush.
he hums, “no problem.”
the two of you quickly find yourselves in an arcade. you both play games and you quickly learn how 1. competitive, and 2. horrible kuroo is at games. to soften his sour mood, you do win him prizes on his behalf.
“i haven’t had fun like this in awhile!” you beam. the two of you leave the arcade, kuroo offering to walk you home.
“i can tell, you haven’t stopped smiling since we left.” he says, chuckling.
“thanks to you, i guess.” you joke.
“you’re welcome, i’ve been losing on purpose just for you.” he admits.
you blink, not convinced. “sure.”
kuroo pouts, “it’s true,” he gestures down to his bag full of toys, “worked out in my favor, too.”
“right, tetsu.” you snicker, smirking.
the ravenette feels his heart swell at your words. “heh. well, more important prize is you, though.” he says cheekily.
“corny, but I’m flattered.” and before he can say another (horrible) pun, you pull him to your height by his work tie before abruptly kissing him on the lips.
this definitely throws the man off as he stumbles a bit, gasping against your mouth in surprised. his lips are soft and a bit chapped, his mouth tasting like candy from the arcade.
when you pull away, you say, “thank you for treating me to an evening like this. i didn’t realize how much i needed it.”
he slips his hand into yours, his large palm enveloping your smaller one in comforting warmth.
“of course. i just think someone as pretty as you shouldn’t have to worry about things so much.” he says, a faint blush appearing across his cheeks. “you shouldn’t let them walk all over you. make sure you have boundaries.”
you lean onto his shoulder, squeezing his hand. “you’re absolutely right. but you know what?”
he looks at you, “what?
“the only boundary that was worth crossing, was the one involving you.” you confess.
and in kuroo’s honest opinion, you couldn’t have been more right.
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nubisaureus · 9 months
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sharing is caring
Been having KuroKen x reader brainrot lately so here ya go, some spicy headcanons for y'all!
character(s): Kuroo and Kenma (timeskip)
pairing(s): KuroKen x afab!reader
contents: polyship (Kuroo x Kenma x reader), domestic shenanigans, cuddles, finger fucking, drooling, neck kissing
a/n: YALL DONT EVEN UNDERSTAND THE BRAINROT THATS CONSUMING ME I NEEDED TO WRITE THIS SO BADLY AAAAAAH
not proofread!
Enjoy! <3
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they're both completely smitten with you
Kenma is very clingy; he loves playing games while you two are hugging: he rests his head on your shoulder, while you basically nap on him
you and Kuroo are the ones to remind Kenma to eat and sleep properly: he'd even forget to drink water without you
Kuroo loves to tease Kenma just to get on his nerves; and that is usually done by giving you attention: he gets jealous super easily
of course it's healthy jealousy: they love competing for your attention, and overwhelming you with theirs
Kenma is a very interesting switch; his sex drive isn't high, but when he's in either a dommy mood or subby mood you can rest assured that things are gonna get steamy
as for Kuroo, he loves going with the flow: he definitely isn't a sub, yet doesn't mind when Kenma takes the lead
Kenma loves making you both writhe for him: he'll usually make Kuroo watch as he makes you feel good, then have him be desperate for release
on the other side, when Kuroo takes the lead, he loves to tag team on you with Kenma: they'll overwhelm you so badly that you won't even know left from right
«Look, Kuroo. Look how good they're feeling because of me.» he shoves two fingers in your pussy, making you writhe and ache for him to move. His clothes feel electric on your naked skin: it's humiliating that they are both still in their clothes, in a way; yet it also feels arousing. Besides, they'd get naked soon enough. Kuroo looks at the whole scene, while kneeling in front of the bed: your pussy spread out in front of him, yet he's forbidden from touching you, not until Kenma's sadism issatisfied. His fingers move in and out, while Kuroo is basically drooling: when he's satisfied, he tentatively danglesthem in front of Kuroo, a smirk plastered where his usual poker face stands. «Want a taste, Kuroo?» he teases, and shoves his fingers in his mouth, while Kuroo sucks on them like he was a man dying from thirst who had been offered water on the brink of his death.
just thinking about what transpired that night makes you wet still to this day
you usually end up sandwiched between the two of them when you're watching something or just cuddling
as you're cuddling, Kuroo would usually be the one to support you both: you usually lay on him, your head resting on his chest while he uses one hand to stroke your hair and the other to stroke any part of Kenma's body he can reach from his position
Kenma usually lays on top of you, with his head on your tummy, as he uses your chest as a console stand for his Switch (a/n the console this time BAHAHAHA)
as he plays on top of you, you love running your hands in his hair: you usually undo his bun, untangling his hair, then run your fingers through it, admiring the little goosebumps that surface on his skin, along with the little shivers he desperately tries to hide
that's just one of your cuddling positions though: another one you particularly love is when you rest your head on Kenma's lap, while Kuroo lays on you
in those times, your hands are in his hair, messing his bed head even more, although he doesn't particularly mind: he's laying on you after all
meanwhile Kenma is obviously playing a game, but will choose a chill one, which gives him the time to stroke your hair and look at you both with an embarrassed face, while Kuroo will tease him about that (a/n i need Kenma blushing in my life so badly-)
you take care of them both, and they take care of you as well
«Kenma..stop sitting like you're a question mark, please» you grab him by the neck, much like a cat, and pull him backwards, as to make him sit up straight. «He'll never learn, love. He'll end up hunched up like a croissant.» you let out a giggle, while the blond shots Kuroo a deadly look. «What? It's the truth, Kenma.» he kisses you, shooting him a challenging look. «Oh come on Kuroo, he'll get even grumpier than usual.» you kiss the blond's frown, and his face relaxes immediately. «I'm not grumpy...» he protests, as Kuroo lowers himself to stare at him dead in the eyes. «Bullshit. But since you're cute, I guess I'll let it slide this one time.» and kisses him, making the frown come back as he focuses on his game again. «I need to finish this video and you both are distracting me. Don't you have anything better to do?» he huffs, his puffed cheeks making you and Kuroo erupt in a loud laugh. «Sure, we can do each other.» he retorts, his shit eating grin making you shake your head. You loved those two dorks to death.
it's safe to say his gameplay took less than usual that day
Your predicament is such: you pressed between the two of them, your head resting on Kenma's shoulder while he passionately kisses your neck. Kuroo looks at the two of you, taking in the sight of the people he loves most in the world. Your necks are his weakness: he can't hold on any longer. When his mouth clashes with your neck, you can't help but let out a loud moan, your hands instinctively reaching for his hair, using it as leverage to shove his face deeper on yourself. «Something wrong, babe? You seem worked up.» he teases, while Kenma continues incessantly, his arms reaching to hug you from behind, his hands wandering around. «Seriously, Kuroo?» your breath is ragged, so instead of coming out as an angry question, it comes out as more of a whine. «I'm as serious as it gets, babe. So?» he licks an undefined spot, making you squirm in the very small available space between their bodies. You try to catch your breath. «How could I be composed when I have my two boyfriends ravaging my neck?» you blurt out, as they both chuckle.
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haztory · 2 months
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[seagirl]
⤷ kuroo tetsurou x f!reader; spider-man!au, mentions of violence, brief gore mention, exes to lovers arc, p in v smut, fingering, praise, a lot of descriptive language
⤷ summary: her underwater ecstasy, you could easily be the death of me, i swim through/ he comes to me, stuck on his knees, asking for better days
(w.c: 9.5k)
previous | masterlist
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He stands in your living room like an ill-timed memory. 
Whole and vivid, he’s a flash of overdue colors and a crashing tide that overwhelms you. You blink a few times in hope that this may still be a dream; That his image will turn bleary and you’ll close your eyes enough times to realize they were never really open. That you’re in your bed waiting for the alarm to ring and the day to start as it always does.
It doesn’t happen.  
The person ambling around the room is not a figment of sheepish delusions, or the product of late night fantasies, but him— a heart-wrenching familiarity in a room that has been home to him so many times before.
It’s been three months since a hue of red has disturbed your home.
He’s lit only by the warm lowlight of your lamps as the sun returns to its place of rest. The dark bruise on his face looks gaunt, and his cheekbones arch higher in the shadows. He’s hauntingly beautiful, always has been, and yet, this beauty is unfamiliar to you. He looks nothing like you remember. 
Kuroo walks slowly in your living room, his trained steps light and deft on tile as he practically tiptoes around the room. As though a guard dog were sleeping in the corner of the room and one slight misstep would awaken the beast, disturb the peace and replace it with snarling roars and gnashing teeth. Force him out of the apartment entirely.
Maybe there is one—a silent protector lying in wait for the chance to jump out and bite; Chains wrapped tightly around its neck, made bloodied and raw from how tightly it’s leashed. It watches with focused eyes ready to ring the alarm at any second. It must sit largely in the corner, its presence so unmistakable that Kuroo must see it otherwise he wouldn’t be so diligent in trying to avoid the furniture. He circumvents the rug underneath your coffee table, hunches his shoulders and makes his body smaller as he sidesteps the loveseat to look quickly out the balcony sliding doors. He briefly pushes the curtains aside with one finger, surveying the darkening city with little more than a nod of acknowledgment before he returns his attention back to the room, looking around once more to see if anything has awoken by his doing.
He stills— amber eyes meet yours and he waits. Watching and waiting, waiting and watching. Stilling his movements as the predator watches its prey. Hoping for the acceptance in your space yet preparing for the barking.
It’s only when you break the gaze that he breathes. The dog rests its head on the floor.
The walls of your apartment have seen and felt Kuroo Tetsurou many times before; They have tasted his spilled blood, remain stained from it, and know of him in whole and scattered fragments—and yet he stands as a man seeing it for the first time. Perusing trinkets he knows too well, and focusing a little harder at the ones that have found their place during his absence. Acting as a stranger in the garden he helped grow. 
Do you—can we do this someplace more… private? 
N-no, I can’t do this—
Please? You can ask me anything, yell at me, whatever, I swear. I want to explain things, just… not here.
He had begged in the pharmacy. 
All reservations you had leading up to this moment crumbled alongside the shopping basket laid abandoned by your feet—much like everything else belonging to him and you. He’s in your home and it feels like both the violation of a boundary that you have rigidly put up for safety and the final piece to a puzzle. You try not to choke around a lump in your throat. 
You fight to ignore the whine of the dog and the ache that pulses your fingertips with the remembrance of him beneath your touch. A tired and worn body held tightly by lithe and lean muscles adorned with the kisses of blue and purple. Valleys and bumps, heartbeats pulsing beneath skin, it shouldn’t have changed that much in such a time— it couldn’t have. But, he looks so different in the passage of such a brief time. 
Maybe his heart beats differently now, but you suppose yours does too. You hardly feel like the same person that held him close on a thundering night. Was it even you who held a warm hand under violet flowers? You wouldn’t know. 
(It was you. There’s no way you could ever forget, no matter how hard you try.)
He’s standing by the coffee table when he reaches out to pick up an item on the glass surface; Some coasters lying stacked on top of each other, well loved and stained with drink. They’re recent additions to your home, hand painted and gifted by a friend from work after the success of one of your reports, but you suppose he must know that they’re new with the way he fixates.
He looks at them intently, fingers gently brushing over the acrylic surface. Tracing over the painted image with reverence, holding it tightly with a look in his eye that you can’t quite make out. But, he’s thinking— maybe too much as a minute, then two, passes. And still, he stares.
It is only after he speaks that you remember the coasters have wisteria painted on the surface.
“These are pretty.” He says, quietly. 
It’s a decoy—a false coercion to ease. A knock on your door with a whisper behind its asking sound, a quiet plea to join him. You’ve already let him in, isn’t that enough? What more could he want? It’s bait. 
You take it anyway. “Aoi made them.”
He nods, impressed. He holds the coaster up, waving the handiwork of your coworker gently in the air between his pointer and thumb. “Compliments to the chef.” He says, before setting it back down on the table. A gentleness in the action as though an actual flower were between his fingers, threatening to rupture at any sudden movement. “How is she?”
“Good.” You supply, simply.
He nods again. “And the job?”
“Good, too.” Even simpler. 
Silence encumbers the space once more. Red, scabbed knuckles make a flash appearance that you stare at, swallow a little too thickly at. Words live and die on your tongue, the urge to break fickle silence seemingly impossible. 
What could you ask him that you didn’t already know? What answers could you beg for that you weren’t already sure of? Spoken in the thick of his betrayal, truth settled on the guilt that hunches his shoulders. You don’t want to know about his life and the things he’s been up to because then it needs to be discussed.
But it ravages within you; the glaringly obvious, the bleeding heart of truth. The whining dog foams at the mouth as it barks for the taste of spilled ichor, the feel of the bone cracking between jagged teeth, and the savor of the split marrow. The dark, apoplectic fit of a yearning so deep that it tears the seams of you, screams to be held. Your want of knowing is equal if not more to the anger that has simmered within you for so long. 
You could demand an apology. It would be the appropriate thing to do. 
(It wouldn’t solve anything. Because he still left, and you still know why even if you lie to yourself and say that you don’t, and you both end up in the same place that you started. The hideous silence drowning you in the sanctity of your own home; Two familiar strangers trapped on a deflating raft wondering what there even was to say.)
“I read your articles.” He says, after a moment. Eyes flicker to yours, a slanted smile pulling at the corner of his lips. Genuity etched into the cracks. “The one about the wisteria tunnels was good. Really good.”
Hook pierces through you and tears through skin. Bait, bait, bait—
“Not too cheesy?” You offer quietly, eyes following red knuckles down to their place beside his body. If only to avoid his gaze. 
“No.” He says earnestly. “The right amount of cheese. It was amazing. You’re amazing.” 
Your body stills, rigid. You sigh and he knows. The barking commences.
“Kuroo—”
Lolling his head forward, shaking the mess of his black hair as he tries to roll the discomfort off of his body, he meets your gaze with a grimace of his own. “No, c’mon. Don’t—don’t do that. Please.” His lips are drawn in a tight line, some kind of debate playing over his features as he weighs the pros and cons of this—whatever this is. It’s infuriating, it’s misery, it puts you right back into the hole of devastation that you just finally started to see a way out of. 
Eyes of deep sorrow meet your angry ones. 
“That’s not my name,” Tetsurou breathes out in the empty space of your living room. He’s quiet with his words, convinced in them despite how gentle he says it. “Not with you.”
You shake your head bitterly, “You don’t get to do that anymore.”
His face furrows with a register of injury, but he doesn’t fight it. He does not mean to challenge you. He did not come with the intention to wage a war and emerge victorious— he didn’t really have much of an intentioned plan at all. Only knew that his mind froze at the sight of you and his heart lurched in a need long left unsatisfied.  
The frigid cold of your stare meets the charged electric of the tense room, the atmosphere turning white and hot as it bolsters through the already fraught room, unspoken words feeding the collision of the two forces. Your breath draws more ragged, the floods rising to your neck; Kuroo stands still, certain that his next step forward will be on the wire to the ticking bomb in the room—the cause of the implosion. 
(Kuroo thought he knew what the aftermath of an imploded life looked like— capitulating anger molding with deprived sleep left him a hollowed mess; Locked knee-deep in an endless vortex of must-do’s and must-be’s that resulted in nothing but a blank wall to stare at as fingers attempted to clean a mess that had no resolve. A fool tethering the same wounds, with the same tools, with the same outcome.
This is a different kind of hurt. Where home spits a poisonous rejection and burns through the still raw stitchings of patched skin. Comfort turned caustic, the remnants of good intentions showing him just how well they turned out to be. His name is no longer the reason for an amorous love, but instead the code to a blaring, bright red warning. 
Bloodied and broken fingers inch forward, doing as they always do and try to fix. Like a fool.)
“Okay.” He nods in acquiescence, placating but still firm. Determined, even in the threat of your gaze that tears him apart, to mend this. He hasn’t been imagining this day for three months now to fuck it up at the slightest sense of your anger. No, he’s handled worse than this. He would handle much worse if it guaranteed him this moment, this chance. Straightening his shoulders and standing tall before you, he readies himself for impact. Bracing himself for the explosion. 
He takes the step forward. 
“How do you want to do this?” He says, staring a kind of serious in you that is unsettling. As though something snapped into place within the brief second, a resolve solidified. This isn’t the Tetsurou you once knew, the one who made a fool of himself in his youth; This is the one you had the unpleasant encounter with—where lightning cast a sharp silhouette around with blood pouring from gaping wounds and fear filled the room with an impenetrable stink. 
That Tetsurou stands before you. Your bitterness settles like a pill stuck in your throat. “Hm, I don’t know. Maybe you should start with an apology?” 
“An apology won’t fix this.” He says succinctly, a knowing within him that he has deemed unnecessary to expand on, and it infuriates you.
“Well then maybe you should have thought of that before you left.” Rage stirs your appetite. Teeth growing, snarl rising, bite less of an inhibition and much more of a possibility as you thrash against rising waters. The taste of the marrow is thick on your tongue, its source right in sight. “No phone calls, no texts, nothing. You threw me away—”
He seems affronted, as though that insinuation were an insulting one, but he has no right. It only drives your anger further the more he seems to hunker down. “I was trying to protect you.” 
“You don’t protect someone by leaving them in the dark about something. By abandoning them.”
“I don’t expect you to forgive me, but you need to understand—”
“No, you need to understand what you did. The last time I saw you I thought you were going to die.” 
It’s the opening of the Pandora’s Box; Hurt and all of its tendrils that you tried to shove so deep within the confines of hiding crawl up your throat, wrapping around vocal chords and choking. They weave the familiar narrative and it is as vivid as you remember it to be. The pains and aches of an abandonment that dug into the depths of your soul, the heartbreak that comes when your great love has removed himself from it entirely. Rage tainting all that you have known, a rage that you were just starting to overcome. It’s hard to tap into the person you were earlier, the one that sat at lunch smiling and light-hearted and somewhat healed from the atrocities of lost love. 
Your guard has risen before the man you’ve entrusted the entirety of yourself to, its fortified walls shaking with each knock of hurt he brings to your door. “And then you left. You swore Kenma to secrecy. He wouldn’t tell me more than if you were alive or not. You could’ve given me something, anything. But you decided to act as if I didn’t exist—how could you do that to me?”  
His jaw clenches, the skin above pulsing with the movement. Darkness seems to swirl around him as he says, “I told you. I put you in danger.” But you hardly notice; Hardly care to. You plow forward.
“And I told you I was safer with you. You had no right to make a choice for me, especially not one that I didn’t want. And what’s worse is that you didn’t even have to think twice about leaving me behind.”
Kuroo takes another step forward, truly insulted as he crosses the expanse of your living room in quick steps— the speed in his movements still an alarming sight even after all of this time. He’s an arm’s distance away suddenly, intensity in his stare as he defends against your jabbing strikes, defense webbed against your venom. 
“That’s not even remotely true. It hurt me to let you go, more than you could ever know.” 
“Did it? More than not knowing anything? You had no problem staying away.”
“I did it to save your life.” He says, firmness beneath his in the tone, his own ire rising to match yours and you roll your eyes. 
“From someone who was already in police custody. Don’t say it like I should be grateful to you for it. Maybe if you involved me in the first place, maybe if I knew a little more than just you bleeding out on my couch, I’d have a little bit more sympathy for you right now.” 
The explosion happens, then— the bomb sets off. Only, it was you who stepped on the wire.
Series of images that only he knows intimately flash through his mind in quick succession—hideouts, trails of blood, dirty men with dirty intentions that filled Tetsurou with a vengeance that broke Hell and lit every fiber of his being aflame. It bursts from him at that moment.
“He knew where you lived. He knew your schedule, he had a whole fucking hideout with photos of you on the walls! I was compromised and because of that, you were a target. So yeah, I made a choice for you. I cut all ties and made it clear that you and I were done so that I could make sure he and anyone else he was working with were off of your scent. So that I could protect you.”
His lived nightmare—the one he worked so hard to shield you from for the past three months— spills from his lips in a frenzied shout. There is no hesitation to his tone, conviction bleeds through and you are taken aback. He is pulled taut, a rope fraying at the edges, unraveling right before your eyes.
Tetsurou continues, “I didn’t know who was involved or how long I had so I— I panicked. I should have told you, I know that. I’ve spent the past three months knowing I did it wrong but, I’m outside your window most nights just so I can make sure that you’re safe. And you are, so far as I can tell. So that means I did what I was supposed to do and I did a good fucking job at it.”
You stare at him, wide eyed and silent. It’s all you can think to do.
It was always a possibility. One you ran through in your mind, held quietly when Kuroo’s own worries about his other job came to the forefront. Someone knowing you, knowing about your ties to him and using that against him; But a year had passed with him as Spider-Man and for all of its ups and downs, Kuroo was careful. Nothing ever came of it.
But, a hideout? Enemies, plural, knowing who you were and seeking you out?
Even if doubt wanted to wiggle within the expanse of your mind at the admission, disbelief and all of its synonymous cousins working overtime to protect you from an unfathomable reality, it’s quickly squashed at the sight of Tetsurou’s haunted eyes. Caged fear and all of its tattered belongings veiled within his gaze. And while this transgression of his is large and looming, you believe it’s cause entirely; Because Kuroo may have broken your heart, but he’s never lied to you before. He couldn’t even think to lie to you about the symptoms of a spider bite, he certainly wouldn’t lie to you now about this. 
You believe him, unquestioningly. And it clicks then, like a light switch flicking, that as you have been wallowing in the ache of your loneliness, he has been navigating a world that has threatened him and you all on his own. That your life was in more danger than he had initially let on when he stumbled into your apartment, worried and frantic for your safety and he knew nothing more in his injured state other than the fact that he had to fix it.
His stupid senses of righteousness, his assumed burden to protect; Taking on the world at the tender age of twenty-three. Atlas, with his dark eyes and bruised skin, believes the threat of your safety to be his sin. One that he has exiled himself for, that has him stepping tentatively closer to you, until he’s right in front of you. And he doesn’t want to tell you these things that have kept him up at night, he hardly wanted to tell them to himself, but he knows if there is any way for him to win this—to make you see— then he’ll have to concede something. 
“I’m not— I’m smart but I’m not—I’m not good at this stuff. Okay? I don't know how to be him and also be yours. But, he knew your name.” Tetsurou’s voice cracks with desperation. “And yeah, I could’ve done a hundred things differently, but it wouldn’t have mattered because of how scared I was. I was willing to do anything to make sure you were safe.”
The first piece to your cracked walls falls. 
His fingertips lift up, padded fingers tracing your jaw, and it’s exactly as you remember. Heavy and sweet, the familiar touch satiating a dormant urge that has awoken only at his doing. You lean into it without realizing, the feel of his comfort sticking to you like  caramel. The sticky sugar of him pulls in closer no matter how hard your mind tries to chew your way out of it. You're stuck in the tar, mouth closed, voice silent, heart fluttering. 
His thumb sweeps across your cheek, his hand fitting against your skin like it never left. Warmth seeping in, blending the eternally blurred lines. A gentle force has your chin pulling upward, amber eyes meeting yours, like they always do. Finding you in a crowd of hundreds just as they do in the darkness of your living room. Meeting your gaze with little effort and boring into you, giving you ample opportunity to witness the throes of the brewing hurricane in his irises. 
Its hurtling towards you, the arms of its winds already wrapping around your wrists, your neck, your lungs. You’re inhaling its scent—musky and warm, the fading smell of a well-loved aftershave and damned latex. Tetsurou stares at you, and you stare at him, and it’s a fool’s game to think you’re anywhere but knee-deep in the eye of the storm.
“I will do anything to keep you safe.” He says, determination and all of its implications weigh on you.
His stare trails. Skirts across the features of your face as though he’s studying. It’s a quick flicker down to your lips and your heart leaps emphatically. He hears it, he must, because he’s then looking back to you and stops there. Parks his wandering gaze right into you and waits. He’s unconstrained, open, pleading for you to look and see; Find the answer in the ways that only you can find within him. 
“I couldn’t lose you.” Tetsurou brushes the underside of your lip with his thumb. His voice is low, low enough to rumble through his chest and into you. “I can’t lose you.”
You knew the moment he left why he did. Remember his words like a repeating lullabye as you run over them in your mind before bed, the desperation in his tone withering away the stone walls of your heart, the begging crumblings of letting him back in. Forgiving him is excusing the pain and the anger that tore through you, that left you cracked open and raw. You try to insist that within you, hammer that truth in with rusty nails in hopes that it will stick.
But you're drowning in the deep waters of anguish that he has flooded your apartment with, fighting life and limb against the beatings of caged desire that begs to reach out to him. Maybe, if you close your eyes hard enough you can shield yourself from the certainty of his gaze that the whimsies of romance try to convince you of and you can stand firm. You can open them and realize that this is all a dream that you had hoped it was at the beginning of this whole thing.
Maybe you could believe in that harrowed truth enough to have it buoy you to safety. A life preserver that whisks you away from the familiar touch of his hands that meld into your skin and drag you into the depths of his waters. 
You can remember his wrongs and try to do right by the girl that sat hurt and alone for three months. (Not alone, never alone. He was there; Watching, waiting. Ensuring your safety from a distance, checking through a widow. 
Loving you from afar in the only way that he could.)
“I wish you trusted me.” You whisper, and it’s not an invitation for forgiveness, but he shifts closer anyway. Lowlights of the room dance across his features, the shadows suiting him as they blend him half into the light and half into the darkness. What isn’t spoken is the hearty truth that lingers in the air. I wish I trusted you now.
Suddenly, his nose bumps into yours. Lips brush against yours and they part on instinct, puzzle pieces inching to find their unity once more. Mouths dancing, breaths mingling, one push and it would be the reunion of a past that is held up only by the misery of yearning. 
You want it, know deep within the parts that belong to him that he does too. He’s chasing it, looking for what once was his. His alter-ego isn’t one of the past, not one that he intends to give up anytime soon. Kuroo has never been a quitter, and you doubt as he pushes past blurring lines and unspoken boundaries that this is the indication that he’s willing to turn over a new leaf. 
He still wants both, still wants to be in the light and the dark, wants the normalcy of a life with you with the suit of red and blue. (And maybe, just maybe, a compromise could be struck; Balance could be found, with the growing pains. He could do both, don the mask and make time for you. You could enjoy the moments with him without pouring so much of yourself into him, the tiny voice of your heart whispers in your ear.
Maybe.)
“You should go.” You say, lips brushing his as your mouth moves to draw the line in the sand. The shattered pieces that were begging to finally be glued together drop to the floor. 
It’s hard to convince yourself that this is what you want, especially when he feels like sweet release in your hands, your mind finally feeling quiet in the warmth of his touch. It’s a betrayal against the deepest parts of your romantic self to deny this homecoming, but you do it anyway. Pulling away from his touch just slightly to stay firm.
It’s a minute before he finally nods. It’s absent of surety, instinctual almost, as he collects himself amidst the swarming tides of his thoughts. He parts, feet taking slow and heavy steps away from you. His thumb rubs across scabbed knuckles, hardly minding the pangs of pain that accompany as he picks and prods at his peeling skin. The jabs of sharp hurt macabrely steadying him as he wades through the sea of his own longing— intently hoping to push it to the side for this, for you.
“Yeah. Okay.” He says quietly, like he too has forgotten himself and is trying to piece himself together once more. 
His departure is slow moving, the disentangling of an entwined tar removing itself from the tether, an even harder fest the second time around— but he manages. Gathering himself, he steps towards your apartment door, opening it before halting and sparing one more glance towards you. Searching for something, trying to find it in your apartment, in you.
But you steel yourself, hold firm on this. Forgiveness is not given, it is earned—even for him.
“I want—” He begins before grimacing and shaking his head, “I would like to explain more. If you want. I know we’re not— I have to put the work in to get you to trust me again, and I want to do it.”
He shuffles in place, door adjusting with his movement, “Can I take you out for dinner? Try to do this the right way?”
And you should say no, should slam the door in his face for coming into your home, touching your things, yelling at you and crossing boundaries all within the same night. But even as your anger has risen at the confrontation of the past, at the poor attempts of mending, he has equally placated them. And you hate him for it, hate the fact that even though you haven’t seen him for three months, you’re still just as in tune with him as you were when he left.
This is a fine line between healing and dangerous territory— it could be the closure you need, the step forward to clarity. Or a warning. You fold your arms into yourself, deciding on the boundary at that moment, as shaky as it may be within your mind.
This cannot happen again; He cannot come into your home, touching you, breathing life into you when you have been wasted for so long. Pieces of the past cannot be picked up after they have laid abandoned for so long. For as long as you continue to look at Kuroo and see the wreckage that lies between you, things cannot be as they once were. Where you were a silly girl in head over heels for a stupid boy, reactionary to the ebbs and flows of a relationship that hadn’t known what steady ground was since the bite of the spider. It wasn’t a way to live, it wasn’t the way to be with someone.
Things need to be rewritten, dismantled and put back together. Etched anew. You are not who you once were three months ago, you look at him with too much distrust to be. He is not who he once was, his eyes are too sad to be. 
“I won’t promise you that I’ll trust you again.” You tell him and a deep breath racks his shoulders, “But I want to hear you out. As a friend.”
Tetsurou stares for a moment, understanding the words written between the lines of your statement. The line drawn in the sand. He weighs the options for a moment before eventually nodding, seemingly satisfied with that answer. Better to have you than not at all. “Yeah, that’s… that’s good. I’ll text you, we can figure out the details later.”
“As friends.” You repeat, unsure if it was meant to be a convincing reminder to him or yourself. 
“As friends.” He confirms. He gives you one last long look before he leaves your home. The water that choked you all evening receding with his exit. 
You had hoped in the crevices and cruxes of your mind as your entire world was tilted on its axis the moment that Tetsurou made his appearance, that you would be able to find your footing once he left. That your breath would come back to you in a way that it was pointedly thinned from your lungs— that peace could be found in the same way that you were just starting to become acquainted with it without your ex. This does not happen; As the apartment is submerged in silence, leaving only you in its embrace, you find that air doesn’t come back to you. If anything, you choke even more. Stand achingly still as your apartment becomes as it once was and settles emptily.
Even with the fire that he dredged forth, even the hurt that beat against the cages of your chest, even as you found the urge to yell and yell and never stop yelling at him—you can’t deny the truth that remains and rattles in the hollows of your mind.
You missed him. The way he spoke, how he filled your room, how his eyes found yours and stared an eternity into them. And maybe that’s the problem with first loves— the ghosts of them will always haunt the space of your heart, phantoms entwining around arteries and veins, infusing in your blood. But this is more than a rose-tinged ardor and a childish squabble; This is life and death, his and your own. And it cannot be regarded as anything but that, even if you want nothing more than to run out into the hallway and call after him.
You put that desire down, leaving it in the cage with all the other locked up hurts you hold of he and you, deciding it is a problem for another day. You force yourself to shift gear, turning to your bathroom in need of a shower to wash away all of the strain of the day, all of its exhaustion—
A knock resounds throughout the apartment. A beat passes, then two as its echo rings throughout the space.
You stare at it, wondering for a moment if it is your brain playing with you. If somehow you hadn’t locked that desire up tight enough and it was now at your door, toying with your hearing. A shadow filters underneath the door, a shuffling of feet. 
You know what’s on the other side without having to look. 
There’s a million reasons not to do something, pages and pages of entries in your castaway diary that depict the woes of your heart in the time that Kuroo had abandoned it—all of it’s waxing poetry serving as a poignant explanation as to why you should not open the door. But something tells you to open it, something smaller and sanguine—plumes of billowing hope that curdle in your stomach and float through you like an intoxicating smoke. Filling your lungs on the inhale, decadent exhaust that burns the nicotine, spreading the burning high.
Your hand is on the knob before you have much of a realization.  
And he’s there. 
Eyes inked with a steady fortitude, filled with an intensity saved for moments where you imagine the other guy comes to play, saved for the moments when he’s hellbent on getting you to see him. He stands at your doorway, lit under the harshness of the fluorescent hallway lights, chest rising and falling with the heaviness of his breaths. 
And it calls to you—that craving for the marrow, the barking that rings throughout your ears. It isn’t for the truth of words—it’s for him.
Really, he should be a better person and commit to the drive that led him to leave for three months, his need to keep you safe; Commit to the boundary that you have placed, the one that says I’m not ready to forgive you, the one that dresses you in caution tape and blinks in flashing red lights to avoid lest he do as he’s done before and try to fix things like a fool.
(A fool in love.) 
But it tugs at him, pulls him to his knees when you meet him with your eyes wide and eyebrows furrowed. Confusion, curiosity, and something pouring into you. He’s neck deep in the throes of longing just at the sight of you and that third element, that fickle something that he knows better than anyone else. He should be a better person and walk away, do as you have asked and respect boundaries. But then you say his name, a whisper on your tongue, like how you used to speak to him. And he realizes that he’s already done his time in being a better person. Three months of denying all he has wanted for the sake of protection. 
He’ll indulge in selfishness, just this once. 
Greedy with his intentions, desperate for you; Ready to drown. 
His hand is on the wood veneered door pushing it wider. His heart races in his chest as he realizes you put up no resistance in his doing so. A decision is made, absent of logic, truant of any remorse. 
“We will never be just friends.” He says, voice laden and heavy with that third thing that sparks a glint in your own eyes—want.
His lips are pressing to yours, rushing forward and slamming the door closed behind him in quick succession. A muffled whimper escapes your lips as you fall into old habit. The rough parting of plushness for a ravenous taste that stokes the embers of a desire hardly contained. And suddenly, his waters are rising around your ankles again, his own feet dragging against the force of its push and pull. Salty spray splattering against him, his clothes heavy with the damp and he’s sinking. 
(Even if you hate him, even if you push him away, at least you’re there—alive. 
He should fight and climb his way to survival, it’s the one thing he’s good at after all. But he doesn’t. This could easily be his death, headstone laid at your feet, the key to his coffin in your palm. 
There is no part of him that hasn’t been tethered to you in the formations of love and remained resilient in the absence of you; He is and has been yours, entirely.  And that was precisely the issue; For where he ended, you began. There was no better danger to him than you. And now, there is no greater danger to you than him. 
The taste of you is just as he remembered.)
Kuroo kisses as if this is how he could explain things. 
He pours all of his ferocity into the action, eagerly laps up the savory of the needing touches and the sweetness of bared soul, as it pours out and in. Joined into one, lines blurred, delineation a fool’s game. When wrapped in the throes of your embrace, the parting of your lips is all too addicting, and submission isn’t a threat but a promise of more.
He digs his teeth into the plump and pulls, losing the fight with his feelings when a whimper erupts from your mouth and even more lost when you push into him with equal fervor. Your hands are rushing up to his hair and tugging on the strands, pulling him closer into you if that were even possible. His hands find their place on your waist, finding solace when you fit against him in the exact way that he remembers. Joy coursing through the rushing blood when his fingers dig into plush skin, craving hardly satiated but instead, amplified. 
It’s desperate, and mean, and hard, and consuming and it's the greatest thing he’s ever had. Flurried limbs pulling each other together, gripping on skin in calloused moans and tugging movements. Your tongues taste one another, licking into the open in wet fervor. A whine is exhaled when your mouths pull apart that is quickly replaced with bliss when his teeth sink into your neck, lapping over your tender pulse point in the way he knows your body responds best. Your nails dig into his biceps, the fabric of his shirt tugging upward. 
This dance is familiar and that makes it that much more exciting, like an inactive muscle being stretched out. He’s pushing you both further into the room, fingertips trailing at your waistband, silently asking as he sucks another mark into your neck. You beat him to it, pulling pants and underwear down in one quick movement, your heart pumping erratically as you fall on the couch, onto the buoy keeping you above the rising tide. He’s moving in tandem, your own shirt falling to your floor in abandon. 
Revealed to you is a pantheon of scars that decorate the lean and lithe muscle of his chest as you settle on the sofa. Some old, faded to the color of his skin, others new, pink and raw. Your fingers are drawn to them, running over the numerous marks that bisected skin, that make constellations against his ribcages.
Atlas stares down at you, deep breaths racking his chest. “What happened to you?” You ask quietly, fingers finding a particularly jagged mark that runs from the right side of his ribcage down to his belly button. Two pale pink scars lining either side of its division— claws. His stomach tenses beneath your touch.
The worry seen in your eyes ignites a heated passion in him, the held suppression that you still care driving him forward once more.
“Later. We can talk about it later.” Invigorated, he leans back down, capturing your lips in another kiss and running his tongue on the curl of them. His hands move on their own accord, long fingers gripping beneath your knees and hiking your legs upward, exposing the wet and slickened part of your sex to the eager grind of his hard length poking through his jeans. Denim meets your sex and the rough fabric pulls a broken moan from your occupied lips as it grinds against the wet of your folds. Rubbing coarsely into your sensitive bud. His fingers find their place there soon after, splitting your seam and gathering enough wetness at your entrance to roll it over your clit, swirling his finger around the pearl in the way he knows you like it best. 
There comes great advantage to being with a man for as long as you were with Kuroo. His expertise ignites the beginning rapture with a speed unlike any other. Fingers playing with your sex in ways that you’ve never been able to replicate on your own, driving your want higher, tightening the coil that burns with delectable heat in your stomach as his tongue licks into your mouth. Your breaths are heavy, lips disconnecting with him as you find yourself distracted in pleasure, a trail of spit stretching between you.
It’s when he slips a long skilled finger inside of you that you throw your head back. He makes quick work, attaching with eagerness to the column of your throat, suckling marks into the juncture of your jaw and neck. He knows where the spot lies, knows how to have your mind fogging up and your mouth opening in stupor. 
And you hate it; You hate that he knows what to do and how to do it to get you so malleable underneath him. You’re putty in his hands and it's the essence of everything that you have been warning yourself of. He could ask you anything, tell you anything, and in the embrace that has been yearned for, it wouldn’t take much for you to do whatever it is that he asked. 
You would do more to stop this were you not locked in the throes of pleasure—but he feeds the beaten dog so well.  
A second finger enters you and you moan.
“That’s it. I wanna hear it, baby.” The huskiness of his voice pants a hot breath against the side of your neck. “Please let me hear it.”
“Tetsurou—” You manage to bite out just as his fingers curl upward, stroking against the spongy spot of your front wall. A dull fuzzy pressure begins to fill your body.
“You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” He asks, his thumb working in tandem with his two pumping fingers to rub hard circles against your clit. “You gonna let me taste it?”
His nose presses into your cheek, lips placing a loving kiss against the surface as you nod, emphatically. He breathes, enamored with the feel of your walls clenching around his fingers, drunk off of the faint smell of your perfume, and the salt of your skin. He knows an orgasm is hardly the way to fixing things, but he’ll be damned if he won’t try. Rising on his unoccupied arm, he hovers himself above you, studying the contortion of your face. Your face, gorgeous as it scrunches in response to his ministrations; Beyond beautiful in all of its existence, when you're smiling, skin pushing on the apples of your cheek; In sleep, resting and relaxed; In your fury, furrowed and gritted as you yell at him, give him your poison and vexation, deliver an acrimony that he can only kneel before— entrenched in all of your holy. 
Your eyes remain closed, sealed in bliss as he strums the familiar crescendo and as satisfying as it is to see, he wants more. Wants to see you. 
He says your name in reverence, “Look at me.”
Blown pupils meet his own and it's the final stretch. Heart escalating, fingers clenching, your thighs closing around his forearm to stave off the impending blow and all of its glory. He doesn’t stop, instead he keeps your gaze, dropping his mouth to your chest and sucking a nipple into it. Laving over the sensitive skin, setting nerves tender as he maintains his steady pace with his fingers.
And it comes; The sharp inhale of breath, the tumbling of his name, the peak of the long awaited happiness. Your fingers find home in gripping his arms, the one beside your head and the other between your thighs, still stroking an even stride through the pulsing of your gummy walls and the gush of wetness from you. 
It's convulsing and dizzying, you almost don’t believe that it's happening as euphoria washes over you. Tetsurou hovers over you, sliding his fingers from you and immediately putting them in his mouth, sucking the taste of you off of the digits. 
Were you not already pulsing with the aftershocks of an orgasm, the sight of his eagerness would have pushed you over the ledge. It's pathetic really how Kuroo does to you what no other person can. Set you aflame with the paradoxical sisters of lust and anger. The emotions of Mars, emboldened in intensity by his doing, are further impassioned as he stands on his knees, stare blown wide as he pushes your thighs apart once more. His gaze transfixed on the mess he’s made of your sex, the length of his cock twitching in arousal the longer that he looks. 
“There she is,” he says to himself, adjusting your knees further up until they’re hitting your chest. His hands grab underneath you, pulling your exposed pussy closer to him. He fists himself, a pearly bead of precum smearing over the red and leaking tip, pushing it forward so that the head of his cock bumps into the sensitive nub of you with each swipe against his length. Shocking you into the desire, building the anticipation once more. “This perfect pussy.”
He’s lost, stuck in the reverie as he stares at you and it eats you alive. To be so desired, so wanted by a man you were convinced hadn’t wanted you anymore.
“Tetsu,” Your voice is ragged and broken, propriety abandoned in the glow of the coital haze. You breathe and he seems reminded of where he is, a glaze in his own eyes. Kuroo leans down after a moment, reminding himself of what he’s meant to do. His lips find yours in a gentle peck as he breathes in your exhale. 
“Tell me. Please.” He swirls the head of his cock at your entrance, gathering your slick on him but waiting. “Tell me what you want. Tell me you want this.”
It feels like you're floating in the waters, no longer drowning or at risk of sinking, but instead light and loose on its surface. No longer made an enemy of its tides but the lover, kissed with each lap of its waves. If you close your eyes you can hear the water crashing against the shore. The waves that crumble the high rise of your stone walls, their wreckage falling into the sea. You can feel that it's Kuroo’s hands underneath you keeping you afloat, holding you still. Can pretend that everything is right once more. 
Your eyes shut in hope, the promise of tomorrow within reach. The words are spoken before you have any sense otherwise. Sober wants and the repressed truth voiced in a split second. 
“I want it so bad. I want you. Please, please—”
It’s all he needs, all he wants. Not the sex, forget the sex, but you—wanting him, asking for him. A revival of the shredded beating threads of a tender heart. He pushes into you, the hefty weight of his member filling you in the ways that are so familiar yet need the most adjustment. The burning stretch, the feeling of being whole as he moves forward, inch by aching inch. Slowly letting you adjust, slowly giving himself the time to fit.
He pauses his movement, a grunt, heavy and man, releases from his mouth. The wet heat of your walls choking him, wrapping around him like a vice that sets every neuron, every pathway alight. He digs his fingers into the soft of you tugging you closer in search of the home he knows, the one that will bring him to his death. In your embrace, it would be kind, long-awaited, the better alternative to the threat that he faces every night on the street.
He stills his hips, letting you acclimate to the feel of him inside of you. Conversely, he tries to catch his breath, tries to not burst at the first feel of your tightness around him. 
Tetsurou looks down at you, his hands smoothing up and down the expanse of your spread thighs as he watches the quick flicks of emotion on your face. Waiting for the signal, the green light to roll into you. 
Your chest heaves with a stuttered breath, your breasts rising and falling and he falls into the impulse to bring his hands to them. Palms cupping the skin, thumbs brushing over peaked and taught nipples. Your skin is dewy with sweat, eyes blown with lust, and hair messy as you lie beneath him. Beautiful, beyond beautiful. He takes a snapshot of you in his mind, folding this image in the file for the late night thoughts, for the reasons to keep living. 
Your face contorts into one of shock, eyes darting to his own, disrupting the image of ecstasy you were once so lost in. He mirrors your surprise with a look of confusion, unsure what happened in the split second to cause such a look from you. 
“What did you say?” You ask, rising onto your elbows, shifting his place inside of you ever so slightly.
He hisses with the movement, hands rushing down to your hips to hold you still. He can’t think with the jolting, the hot lick of pleasure that burns within him at the slightest of shifting from you, but he tries anyway. Recalling the previous couple of seconds, wondering what could have slipped out of his mouth in the few moments that he was gazing down at you, staring in awe as you writhed underneath him.
“I’m so in love with you.” 
It isn’t the most jarring of things to have ever been said by him, this evening alone enough of a reminder of the kinds of outrageous that his occupation can bring, but it’s the breach of a reality. The actualization of something fragile that lies between you two. It is easier to be abhorrently angry at him rather than violently in love with Tetsurou, and yet it remains. 
Like a hidden secret, you kept it locked in you. Tried to stampen it out, snuff it with hands around its throat. But here he is, on his knees, just as victimized by the truth, begging for better days. 
He rolls into you, then. Energized by his own admission, eager at the locking of your eyes. He pumps a steady rhythm, cock bullying against tight walls and rubbing in all the right ways, revitalized at the moans that spill out of you.
“I said I’m in love with you,” Palms release your breasts and find your own hands, intertwining fingers together and leaning close to you. Chest to chest, mouth hovering above your own, chasing the home of sweet release but making sure you’re right in front of him. “So fucking in love with you.”
It happens in quick succession. Pressure erupting, tide pulling you in and under, his voice the only tether to the surface as your orgasm reached you in record time. Brought asunder by the turmoil, the anticipation of him, and then finally having it. You can’t tell if it's because of the ministrations of his hips that know you so well, that know how to bring you forward— thighs pressing into yours, skin clapping at the repeated meeting of him into you, the tightening of the burning coil— or the confession. Spoken just as he has said everything else to you—
With conviction, firmly believing the words he has uttered. Kuroo has never lied to you, he wouldn’t do it now. 
The blooming fire in your core spreads throughout the entirety of you; Your head throws back in a cry and Kuroo takes it as permission to follow you. Drops his head into your neck, thrusting with deep abandon as he finds his own peak. He digs and digs, burying himself to the hilt as he reaches it. His stomach tightening, his body going rigid as the high he seeks renders him still deep within you. A guttural moan leaving his mouth, unintelligible whispers, low muttered honesty that he means for himself. 
He holds you close to him in the wake of the decrescendo, all but collapsing on top of you. Limbs gummy and soft, minds sluggish as he keeps you connected to him, for as long as you’ll let him. 
Time passes like this, held close to him, sweat gluing you back to him in the way it was always meant to be. 
And it's sticky, this mess that you're in, body and mind. Clinging to one another, your hands unthread with his fingers to run through his hair, his lips plant soft kisses to the skin that he can reach, and the fragments of uncertainty between you lay shattered in their great glory on the floor. The tide slowly rises, washing away the scattered pieces, returning it back to its sea, promising to take care of it all with a loving whisper.
You don’t know where to go from here. The abated fear that was put to rest in the heat of his touch slowly inches forward. He knows it must, can probably sense your rising apprehension before you even realize it. Spider senses, and whatnot.
His head rises from laying in the space between the couch and your neck, ambers looking into yours. Honestly, carefully, lovingly.
He brings his hand up, brushing a flyaway from your face. “What are you thinking about?” The quiet plea from before. 
Let me in.
“Are you going to leave when I go to sleep?” You ask, and even if you had the energy to muster a kind of bite to your words, you don’t have the desire to. 
He wonders for a second, voice soft when he finally questions, “Do you want me to?”
Old habits beat the familiar song, and you fear waking up again to an empty apartment after having him so close. No, you don’t want him to leave; But admitting that is jumping four hundred steps ahead in a wasteland now imploded from your coupling with him. Nothing about this is normal, even as you try to grasp some semblances of it. You shouldn’t have slept with your ex-boyfriend, not when you told yourself things needed to be patched up first, not when you were still hurt inside, but falling into the cycle, the old song and dance of before has thrown a wreck into the healthy attempt at boundaries.
It’s just made everything so much worse. Your head hurts, your heart pounds and all you can do is cover your face with your hands. Hiding the frustration before him.
“Hey,” Tetsurou coos, admonishing you gently from your secreting. His hands pull yours away from your face, voice guiding the quieting din in your mind. “I’d like to stay. We can talk all night or not at all. I just want to be next to you. But only if you want me.”
It’s up to you; All of this is up to you, now. 
“And if I say ‘no’?”
“Then I’ll wait until you’re ready. Even if you’re never ready.”
You hum, a means to fill the space. Uncertainty lingering.
He calls your name quietly, the same seriousness that has been following him all evening in his gaze again. The kind that pointedly was not apparent three months ago before the rainy night. “You need to know though, before we start anything, before you make a decision, if it comes down to it—if your safety is on the line—I’ll do it again. I’ll do whatever it takes. And you can’t change my mind on it.”
It’s then that you realize even in the height of your argument, in the consuming of one another, Tetsurou never gave you an apology. Said to your face it wouldn’t fix anything because he wasn’t going to apologize to you. Saying he’s sorry would be a lie, and he doesn’t lie to you. He’ll hurt you both again if he needs to. If it comes to pass, that’s his answer; Wherever you’re concerned, if your safety is at risk, there isn’t much Tetsurou wouldn’t do to protect it—protect you. 
A knowing that you are going to have to accept. And quickly. 
Your eyes see only but the honorable truth in his. Your heart pumps erratically and your mouth craves the taste of his once more. 
“Stay. I want you to stay.”
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a/n: its here. two long years later. big thanks to everyone who loves this series and has been interested even after my long ass hiatus. you guys are the reason i kept going through it even through the worst of things. love you all! btw i made a whole ass playlist just for this chapter so let me know if that's something we are interested in
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𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖
Feat. Kuroo & Kenma
Summary: Kuroo's mom dislike you; Kenma's assistant tries to ruin things :)
Kuroo
You were getting ready in the bathroom while Kuroo was waiting for you in the bedroom while getting ready himself.
He had been wanting to introduce you to his family for quite some time now, and he finally set a date so you two can have dinner with them. Well, technically you had already met half of his family; since he had started dating you in his first year of university you had already met his dad and grandma and have gone to his house multiple time, you even knew Kenma and got along with him perfectly fine.
But you hadn’t met his mother yet.
Since he didn’t grew up seeing her a lot, he wasn’t particularly close to her, but she still was part of his life; so he did want you to meet her. Although he was kind of scared of her reaction.
You were in the passenger seat of the car, headed to his parents home, an uncharacteristically silence between you two. You were clearly nervous, he could tell, so as soon as he park at the front of his dad’s house he grab your hand and squeeze it.
“You’re nervous” he says
“I am” you answer, if there was something he loved about you was how straightforward you were “what if she doesn’t like me?”
“She will baby, I promise. You're amazing and talented and beautiful, you literally are so nice; there’s no way she won't love you!” he caress your cheek sweetly, every single one of his words meaning everything. You smile at him a little more relaxed, kissing his cheek before opening your door to get out “Oi, I should be opening your door!”
“Too late” you grin walking to his side, him receiving you with a slight pout as he takes your hand walking towards the door
“Ah, Tetsurou! Yn! It’s so nice to see you here!” his father says as he open the door, pulling both of you into a hug “How was the ride?”
“Everything was good” Kuroo answers, making you agree with him instantly
he“I’m glad, come on in, the food should be ready soon” he says moving to the side to let you enter. You said hello to his grandma first before heading to the living room; there you found his mother, a young looking woman with short hair who immediately comes to Kuroo, grabbing his face to give him a kiss
“Ahh, Tetsurou, my love. It’s nice to see you again” she says with a smile, which quickly dropped when her eyes landed on you “who are you?”
You exchange a quick glance with Kuroo, who smiled warmly at you “Hi, I’m Yl Yn, Tetsurou’s girlfriend”
“Oh, so you are his girlfriend” she looks at you with an uncertain expression before giving a tight smile to Kuroo
“Anyways…let’s go to the table, shall we?” Kuroo’s dad add feeling the tension on the air. Throughout the whole dinner things were tense, no matter how much you tried to talked to her she either ignored you or answered you coldly.
“Excuse me, I’m going to the bathroom” you say, at some point after the dinner you couldn’t really handle it properly, so you went to the bathroom to try to get some air
“Tetsurou, you really have the worst taste in friends, first that antisocial boy Kenma and now her; you could do so much bet-”
“Shut up” Kuroo spits the words with venom “This afternoon was supposed to be amazing, she was so nervous to meet you only for you to be a pain in the ass!”
“Kuroo-”
“Not now dad. Yn is a wonderful person, she takes care of me and loves me like no other person can, so don’t you dare to treat her like that. And that applies to Kenma too. After all, both of them have been there for me more than you ever had” he blurts out annoyed. You arrived just by the end of his rant, him noticing you immediately and going to take your hand “We’re leaving, love. Sorry dad, sorry grandma, we’ll come back another day”
“It’s okay, darling, I understand” his grandma answers, giving a death glare to Kuroo’s mom “take care you two”
“What happened?” you asked once you were in the car, making him look at you softly
“Don’t think about it” he takes you faces in his hands, closing the gap with a kiss “I love you lots, okay?”
“Love you too” you answer a little confused, happy nonetheless that he cares about you so much
Kenma
You were heading towards Bouncing Ball to give Kenma his lunch; since he barely has to actually go to the company, he tends to forget about it.
You had known Kenma for a long time now. You two met back in high school, you were part of the Fukurodani volleyball team, and since you were friends with Bokuto and Akaashi, you had met Kenma and Kuroo in one of their many practices. Since you were a good mix of Bokuto’s and Akaashi’s personality -not too quiet but definitely not as extroverted- it was easy for both of them to get along with you, however Kenma felt particularly comfortable with you when you asked him about a game that you were playing after noticing how passionate he was about the topic.
After that day he willingly started to join the practices with the Fukurodani duo, much to the amusement of Kuroo, who had already notice how uncharacteristically excited he seemed when talking to you. And being the annoying friend that he is, with the help of Akaashi and Bokuto, he tried to helped you two get together. A successful attempt if he may add.
You were always supporting him, not only you nag him lovingly so he could stop playing and take care of his health, but you also were his first subscriber, his first viewer in twitch, the person that basically built the company from the ground with him.
He couldn’t be more grateful to have you.
So after 5 years of being together, he asked you to move in with him; he wanted to asked you sooner, but he wanted to make absolutely sure that you two shared the same feelings. And right now you were walking towards his company to give him the food that he had forgotten.
Once you arrived there you enter without any problems, almost everyone in the company knew who you were by now. That was until you arrived outside of Kenma’s office, where you found the new assistant outside
“Hi, what can I help you with?” She asked you with a small disdain in her voice, barely even noticeable
“Yeah, I came to see Kenma” you say
“I’m sorry, Mr. Kozume explicitly told me to not let anyone enter”
“I’m his girlfriend, he told me to come?” you said confused, while he does ask to not be bother, you were always the exception to that
“Sure you are, darling, sure. Please leave before I call security” she look at you with an annoying smile. It was clear that she didn’t believe you, and that she most likely liked your boyfriend
“I…what?”
“I told you already, if you actually were his girlfriend I would kn-”
“Why is there so much noise?” Kenma opens the door with a frown, which deepens when he sees you standing there “What’s happening?”
“Mr. Kozume! Nothing much, just this…girl claiming she’s your girlfriend. But that’s not possible…”
“She is my girlfriend, and I was talking to her” he looks at the assistant almost annoyed as you walk towards him. You could feel the piercing eyes of the assistant in the back of your head
“Mr. Kozume, I will be careful if I was you! It’s clear that she doesn’t love you! She’s just using you for your money!” she adds quite desperately, which makes you chuckle as you lock eyes with Kenma
“Yeah, sure, that’s why we started dating in our high school days, because I had soo much money back then” he drops sarcastically while rolling his eyes. You see the assistant face go all red as her eyes goes between both of you “Anyways, come here babe. Next time let her in no matter what, got it? She’s the exception to every rule”
You went to his side and started walking towards his office while he mutters how annoying people was, even at his own company; you turn around to see the girl looking at you with anger, which made you smile at her before kissing Kenma cheek “Thanks for defending me, hun”
“Of course, I’ll always protect you”
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zmbiesuga · 7 months
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I literally jumped with joy when you fallowed me back omg ily sm. So I was at the doctors and my doctor told me how he proposed to his wife and it was so sweet. He said he was stressed from finals and he had like a dream that his wife died and he dreamed of everything he couldn’t do with her. So when he woke up it was like 2 in the morning and he ran to his room to get the ring he had. He had it for two whole like years but ran to her dorm and begged her to say yes because he couldn’t wait. Could you write a fic of kuroo doing that with his boyfriend?
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JUMP THEN FALL — k. tetsuro x m!reader
sypnosis: kuroo has always known that he wanted to marry you, and he's always said that he'll do it when he knows it's right. what's more perfect than asking after he had a dream about you dying?
warnings: mentions of death (nothing too graphic but still), kuroo being a fucking loser dork but i adore him so it's fine <3, fluff, happy ending!, angst if you squint really really hard, kuroo and reader are in their last year of college in this one, but i'm not in college yet so idfk how it works but i'll pretend i do!! use of the petnames 'babe' and 'baby'
notes: okay i'm so so sorry this took so long, i had a really bad depressive episode, i hope you like it, this request is really cute and i had a lot of fun writing it :D and two, that is so nice of you to say omg :( of course i followed you back, you always send me requests, you interact with my stuff a lot and you're just really nice so thank you for that <3
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Kuroo has always wanted to marry you, it's the one thing he's been sure of in his entire life.
When you bring up marriage to him, however, he just tells you to "be patient" and that he'll "do it when he knows it's right" which constantly keeps you on your toes in case your dork of a boyfriend decides that the "right time" is during one of your lectures or at any inappropriate time really.
It kept Kuroo on his toes too, because what you don't know is that in the far-right corner of his sock drawer holds a small velvet box with a beautiful band inside of it. Every day he can feel his hand graze over the box, thinking to himself, maybe now is the right time.
But then he shakes his head, and decides it isn't.
And besides, as much as Kuroo loves you, he has finals to worry about. And they're really kicking his ass.
Although most people would peg Kuroo as the focused studious type (which he tried so desperately to be), the truth was that he tried so hard to procrastinate as much as possible. However, was it really procrastination if he needs the sleep?
When it was to avoid studying for finals, yes it was.
"Kuroo, sleeping to avoid studying for finals is not something you should do," your voice rippled out through the speaker of his phone, "especially if it's every single time you have them."
"Babe, you are the one who is constantly nagging me to sleep more," he rebutted, that stupid cocky tone he always had lingering in the back of his throat ever present, "I'm finally listening to you, I think you should take that as a win."
"Kuroo," your voice cracked again through that shoddy android speaker again, a certain firmness to it this time, "please promise me that you'll study, you're gonna hate yourself if you don't."
"Baby, I promise you I will, you know my word to you is good," he replied, you could hear that fucking cocky grin etching itself onto his face, "right after my little nap. I love you; I'll talk to you soon."
After you too bid your goodbyes, Kuroo made himself as comfortable on that dorm room mattress as he could, until his eyes got heavy, and he drifted off to sleep.
Kuroo could have sworn it was real.
The chase, your blood curdling scream, the way his stomach dropped to the soles of his feet when he realized he was too late.
It wasn't until he shot up in bed with that same nauseous feeling sitting in his chest as his breath came out panicked and labored had he realized it was nothing but a fucked-up dream.
Kuroo had never been so happy to wake up.
Slowly, but surely, he had calmed himself down. His breath returning to normal as the nauseous feeling in his chest disappeared, what didn't disappear, however, was that he didn't want to live life without you. He didn't want to graduate without you beside him, he didn't want to start a company without you there cheering him on along the way, and he sure as hell didn't want to imagine having a family with anyone else that wasn't you. Life was too short for hesitation, it was too short for his hesitation.
He quickly rushed out of bed, pulling an old hoodie over his torso, slipping on his shoes, and rifling through his drawer to grab that velvet box that had been sitting there for two years, begging to be let free.
Luckily for him, your dorm wasn't far from his. He hadn't even bothered to check the time on his phone, where the light flashed a large: 2:03 A.M. at him, he didn't care if his frantic speed walking down the hallway woke up everyone on that floor, he was only worried about getting to you.
When he got to your dorm, he rapped his fist against the door so hard he could've sworn that his knuckles would crack open. The door opened to a very annoyed you, but he didn't care if he interrupted your sleep, or your studying, he was just so elated to see you in front of him.
"Kuroo, what the hell?" you seethed, "It's two in the morning, what on earth —"
You were quickly cut off by Kuroo dropping to one knee in the doorway of your dorm room, pulling out that velvet box in all its glory, revealing that beautiful band you had mentioned liking to him once, you couldn't control the way your mouth slightly dropped in confusion, a wave of emotions hitting you like a tsunami.
"(Y/n), please, just listen to me," he blurted out in an almost pleading tone, "I've always wanted to wait until the right moment to ask you this, but recently, I've realized that the right moment was in front of me the entire time."
You tried to get a word in, but Kuroo's word vomit was faster.
"(Y/n), I've realized there is so much I want to do with you, so much that I can't do without you," he said, you swore you could see the tears well in the corner of his eyes, "everything from this point forward is useless if I can't do it with you by my side, so I'm begging you, even though it's two a.m. and we're both in our pajamas with messy hair and dark circles under our eyes, will you make me the happiest man alive, and marry me?"
It was your turn to be stunned, you stared down at your boyf — fiancée, in front of you with stained sweatpants and an old Nekoma sweatshirt barely big enough to cover his torso asking you to marry him at two in the morning.
You stayed quiet for so long, it scared Kuroo. Maybe this wasn't the right time, you two were still in college, this was all so sudden, so impulsive, he should have waited, he should have —
All these thoughts were expelled from his head as he felt your body weight push against his, squeezing him so tight in an embrace that he could barely breath.
"Yes," you whispered against the side of his neck, he could feel the tears from your eyes splashing there as well, "oh my god Kuroo, yes, a million times over."
He smiled softly at you, resting his own head against your shoulder as you held him in your arms. If this is what the rest of his life looked like, then god was he excited for it.
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solannn · 5 months
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Haikyuu x Cat!male!reader
description: which,a cat human,[M/N] tries to forget his human past as a cat but it’s isn’t it's not easy as he thought
remember : this story implied male reader and I’m really strict about a fem aligned about reading it you can read it just don’t fetishized it please there’s no nsfw bcs the character aren’t adults so minor are accepted.
KITTY; 01
═══ ⋆★⋆═══
You had 2 owners, one is named Kuroo and the other Kenma.
Kuroo is the one who adopted him alone on a desolate street
Kenma sometimes visited you because you lived with Kuroo. Now you've been living with him for about 2 years, you've gotten used to seeing him leave first thing in the morning to go to class.
You decide to go to his room and the first thing you notice is his volleyball, do you remember seeing her playing with Kenma, won't it do any harm if you try to copy their actions?
You transform into a human and take the ball in your hands, at first you didn't understand the basics so you forced yourself to watch tutorials on the computer.
It's 1:30 p.m. you went to eat for your lunch break, you picked up the ball and started playing again for hours but you forgot that your owner came back around 8 p.m. and you made a mess of the house
The door opened, Kuroo was the first to notice he had his mouth open when he noticed you he exclaimed
"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU ??" He enters the house and looks around to find his cat.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH MY CAT? ARE YOU AN ANIMAL KIDNAPER?? A THIE-” he noticed that you had cat ears and a tail.
“…” He looked you straight in the eyes you didn’t know what to say the room became silent before Kenma arrived.
“I didn’t know you had a b-” Kenma started to say appearing from behind making Kuroo jolt. Kuroo cut him off “I DON’T HAVE A BOYFRIEND."
🧚‍♂️
“Are you trying to tell me you’re my cat, Kitty?” You were sitting on the couch talking everyone thought you were crazy in this room.
Oh yes, you forgot that they called you 'Kitty' because of Hello Kitty and the lack of originality.
You sigh trying to find your words “Touch my ear” The 2 boys raised their eyebrows Kuroo took your ear and pulled it very hard, he could tear it off you cried out in pain.
“I SAID TOUCH NOT PULL.” “YOU NEVER KNOW OK!!” he shouted back. Kenma was massaging his tampons because they were screaming so loudly.
“See I’m real!” You said letting a sigh escape your mouth you didn't know why but you couldn't transform yourself maybe from one to stress or something else probably.
You closed your eyes trying to concentrate, you took deep breaths and relaxed your shoulders. A few seconds passed and you became a cat again, you meowed. Kuroo & Kenma look at you in pure shock.
“Now I believe you it wasn’t so hard to do that” said the boy you gave him a glare,a death glare.
🐱
You turned back into a human to talk to them, you sighed “Calling me [M/N] is better than Kitty” you said, scratching the back of your head.
“Why was Kitty a good first name?” Complains Kuroo “It was shitty and no originality 😐” said Kenma “hey! I had no idea ok?☹️”.
“Actually, if you went to high school, that would be great, wouldn’t it?” “Yeah..” Kenma replied with his eyes on his console.
Kuroo smirked, imagining scenarios where you were in high school “ you should hide your tail and your ears” you nodded Kuroo already had an idea in mind.
"But how old are you? In your human form ig" Kenma asked curiosily if you didn’t mind "I’m 16 years I think I should be in second year" Kenma nodded
“Ah! I almost forgot, [M/N]” a warm smile appeared on his face before disappearing “you clean the house 😘". You sighed
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animehideout · 4 months
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Haikyuu Boys X Fem! Volleyball Player Reader.
a/n : I've always imagined y/n joining Karasuno's team as a female player.. and the general dynamics between her and teammates <3
Pure fluff 🍰
Characters: Kageyama - Nishinoya - Oikawa - Kuroo.
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PLOT: Y/n transferred to karasuno High school as a second year student. She couldn't find a girls volleyball team in Karasuno, so she did everything she could to join the boys volleyball team. Proving her skills and abilities, she's now the only female Wing Spiker in Karasuno's boys volleyball team.
Kageyama Tobio:
Basically you're like fire and ice, constantly bickering.
Would find a difficulty to adjust to you at first concerning his tosses.
Both of you would fight a lot.
You always end up getting scolded by Daichi.
When the two of you are angry with each other he refuses to toss the ball to you and toss it to the others instead.
Tsukki always calls Kageyma king of the court and he calls you queen of the court, in am offensive way of course.
“It's not that high y/n, you're just short”
“Ugh boke y/n boke”
“KAGYEMA I'M YOUR SENPAI”.
It makes you fuel with anger, you would hit him with a ball.
When you finally perfected your harmony on the court, you became a powerful duo, unbeatable literally beating the shit out of your opponents.
Enjoying the art of playing together. Spending a lot of time practicing together he developed a subtle crush on you.
But hell no he won't admit it.
The tsundere in him fiercely guarded his actions towards you.
He couldn't help the small cute gestures towards you, leaking his feelings out.
He enjoys drinking milk so so he would buy you some before or after practice.
Makes sure you're eating well when the coach treats you to lunch/ dinner.
“Eat more rice y/n”.
Everyone else in your team noticed his shift in action towards you, and how he softens when he talks to you.
When one of your opponents hits on you he'd give them his famous death glare.
Scares them away with his strong, terrifying aura.
Watches you with a smirk and heart eyes when you jump in the air and forcefully hit the ball over the net.
Would look at you proudly, whenever you score, he's always secretly admired your volleyball skills.
Would attempt to compliment you “nn-nff-nice”.
Starts a fight with Oikawa if he flirts with you, getting a lot of teasing in return.
Nishinoya Yū:
Aside from being teammates, both of you are classmates as well.
You have the best dynamics in the whole team.
Always sitting next to each other in class.
You end up in detention because you can't shut up in class and always has something to laugh or talk about.
Treats you to ice cream every single day after practice turning you into a sweet tooth.
Bestfriends for life, literally inseparable.
Teaches you the Rolling Thunder move.
Helps you master your receives, if you help him with school work.
Your number one supporter, literally in everything.
Comes over to your house a lot, mainly because he's struggling with homework or exam revision.
You joke around a lot, and laugh really loudly, Daichi gets mad at you all the time.
Hypes you up the most on court when you score.
“THATS MY BESTIE”.
Offers a lot of high fives and big hugs to celebrate your victory.
Very protective over you, especially during tournaments.
Along side with Ryu, they would literally jump on anyone who tries to get your number or flirts with you.
Him and Ryu are your protectors, personal bodyguards.
Has all of your secrets ( knows about the crush you have on Kags).
He's the type to be very obvious when your crush is around.
He's the type to look at person in the eyes right after you said “don't look”.
Oikawa Tooru:
The moment he saw you walking his direction he thought you were one of his obsessed fangirls.
Puts on a flirty expression
“Wanna take a picture with me cutie? wanna take my sign- huh?”.
But you'd walk past him, totally ignoring him.
“come on don't be shy.. are you a fan of the best setter in the world?”
“Yeah right, I'm a fan of Sugawara- senpai and Kageyama”.
Boy's face would drop, you did not just casually mention that Kageyama is the best setter in front of Oikawa Tooru.
In court, he would be left dumbfounded when he saw you in Karasuno's uniform.
Couldn't believe his eyes when he saw you're the only girl in Karasuno's boys team.
“YOU?”
His eyes would be glued on you the whole game and even between sets.
Shows off his strong serves
“This is for you y/n!”
You'd totally crush his ego when you perfectly received his powerful serve.
Would praise you shamelessly “Sugoi”.
Astonished when the ball passed inches away from his head but he couldn't stop it, too stunned by your spike.
“I won't lose next time y/n, put that in mind” .
A tension grows between him and Kageyama over you.
Seeing you a power duo with Kageyama stirred jealousy inside him.
Very flirty at any given opportunity resulting in him getting smacked by Iwaizumi.
“I'll teach you how to serve, even though you're already serving- Ack! what the hell Iwa-chan?!”.
Tries to analyze all the techniques and moves you use while playing.
You impress him every time.
Kuroo Tetsuroo:
He saw you for the first time when Karasuno went to Tokyo for the practice match against Nekoma.
He thought you were a manager so he didn't give it any importance.
He's not the type to go crazy over a girl.
Would say hi to your team, including you.
He would be extremely polite and welcoming.
Chuckles to himself when you and Noya screamed “IS THAT SKYTREE?!” to a normal power transmitter.
He thought it was funny, cute and adorable how you're all excited and happy to be in Tokyo.
The moment he saw you in the court in Karasuno's shirt and shorts, stretching before the match his jaw would drop.
His coach told him that you're a wing spiker and it hooked him up.
“A w-wing spiker?”
His surprise would quickly shift into respect, on how being the only girl in a boys' team didn't stop you or bother you as long as you're achieving your dream.
He became very curious as he watched your tricks and the quicks you did with Kageyama.
“Impressive!!”.
Your agility, accuracy and strategic plays made him take an interest in you.
During breaks, between sets he acknowledges your skills in front of his team.
Warning his teammates and pointing out that you're a formidable opponent and they should watch your moves.
Loves challenges, he would ask you for another practice match just to get to play against you again.
When you have time, he would practice spikes and blocks with you and Bokuto.
“Damn, you're really good at spiking”.
You would become good friends quickly and even exchange phone numbers so you can text each other when you go back to Miyagi.
Would introduce you to Kenma, his bestfriend.
Would surprise you and take you to Skytree and spoils you for the rest of the day.
Since he's the captain he would give you a lot of advice.
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