#and Kenma says its from him sleeping with his head between two pillows | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dokifluffs · 3 years

Text

Dada’s Home | Ushijima, Tsukishima

Pairings: Kenma X Reader (female), Iwaizumi X Reader (female)

Genre: softest haikyuu domestic fluff omg

Author’s Note: more dad tsuki 🤩

Dada’s Home | Kenma, Iwaizumi // Dada’s Home | Oikawa, Atsumu

Warnings! All post time skip! Spoilers to manga end for Iwa! and also they have kids

Ushijima:

The sound of the security welcomed him home as he stepped through the garage door, slipping into his slippers as he shut the door firmly behind him, locking it for the night

It was the same routine every time he came home from the late games or practices but this time was different

The usual darkness or the dim light from a single hall light left on for him wasn’t here to greet him

Instead, all the lights were on and subtle sounds echoed down the hall from the living room

He set his bag snd belongings down, following the sounds as they grew clearer and clearer as he approached

Stepping into the wide room, small toys and stuffed animals were scattered everywhere from your guys’ daughter’s play chest

Bright colored plastic balls scattered all around the floor

“Aren’t you tired, baby?” your voice was just barely a whisper, your eyes heaviest they’ve ever been as you looked down to your one year old as she sat on the ground, roaming and crawling about on the ground

she looked so adorable in her

but now she was focused on you as her baby hands wrapped around your fingers as she pulled on them, bringing her face to them as if to nuzzle against you

“I’m home,” Ushijima’s calm voice sounded throughout the living room, catching the attention of both of you

especially your daughter as she turned her head to her fall father

She babbled excitedly, smiling, filling the room with the pure sounds of a child’s laughter as she crawled toward him

A smile spread on Ushijima’s lips as he watched his baby girl crawl toward him in her lavender onesie

Kneeling down, he held his arms out to her, inviting her to him

“Welcome home, Toshi,” you hummed as you sat yourself up. “She’s os excited to see you tonight,” you pushed out a yawn as you rest your chin on your forearm relaxed on the arm of the chair

just as she was halfway to him, she paused as she pushed the palms of her hands to the floor, wobbly standing to her feet

her entire body wobbled as she tried to balance, her legs unaccustomed to her weight as she hadn’t fully developed these muscles just yet

“Oh my god, Wakatoshi, her first steps!” You excitedly reached for your phone, only for it to be dead

“Toshi, I need you to record this!” you looked back as your words flew over his head as your daughter walked her first length to him, a smile never leaving her face until she leaned forward into his hands

he caught her, lifting her up to hold her in his arms, her small arms and body trying its best to wrap around Ushijima in as big of a hug she could make

“We missed it,” you pouted a bit, internally cursing at yourself for not charging your phone when it had died earlier

“It’s alright, Y/N. As long as the memory is significant enough to us, we shall never forget these precious memories,” he smiled as he bounced his little girl in his arm, making his way to you

“lets get some sleep,” he leaned close, pressing a kiss to your forehead, mumbling these words after as you held him close, resting your hands on his waist

“Yes please,” you smiled relieved to finally catch up on sleep as your daughter was latched to your husband’s collar

Tsukishima:

The nth yawn fell from Tsukishima as hot tears watered his dry eyes, the sound of cicadas echoing all around the neighborhood beneath the clear summer sky

Thousands upon thousands of stars twinkled millions of miles away

After a brief moment of his keys jingling in his hands, the door unlocked, a dim, warm light welcoming him in as he entered, settling his bag down to the side, slipping out of his shoes, raising his arms above his head, stretching his arms and legs and back

After missing the last metro, he now knew the vivid boredom and trouble of having to ride numerous buses until he was home

The house was silent, only the sound of the air conditioning and the cicadas outside breaking through

He could see you declined back against a pile of pillows as he approached, his slippers sliding with every step he took over the wooden floors, one leg propped up as you laid with your hair spread all over the cushions

But the most eye-catching thing aside from his life partner was his little boy

Specifically, his little dinosaur

Resting over your belly, curled up in almost the shape of a ball, the tail of the onesie in between the arms and legs of his son, fast asleep on you

Before he woke you, he slipped his hand into his pocket, pulling out his phone

He snapped pictures of his little boy in the green dinosaur onesie

His heart beat fast, a warmness swelling up inside of him as he captures this precious moment

“S/N, Y/N,” he called the to two of you, gently shaking your shoulder as he sat down on the edge of the coffee table beside the couch you laid on

You were the first to wake, pulled out of your sleep, finding him home

His rectangular black spectacles on him, his wavy golden locks as he donned a white dress shirt and black dress pants for work, his sleeves neatly folded and rolled up his forearms

“You’re back,” you smiled, stretching your legs and arms as your son still slept soundly on you

“S/N,” you called out to your son, his cheek squished, mouth agape, eyebrows slightly raised and raising higher and higher, bit by bit as you called out to him

“Dada’s home,” you carefully nudged the little boy awake until his eyes peeked open, clearly still half asleep

“Hey, buddy,” Tsukishima smiled as he leaned his hand close, brushing his hand over his son’s head beneath the hood, the soft, light colored hair that matched his own

“He practically begged me to let him wear this pajama tonight, wanting to tell you something special,” you leaned your head back against the plush pillows, feeling the bags begin to form beneath your eyes

“What’d he wanna say?” He glanced to you, before returning his attention to his son, caressing his fingers down his face, giving his little nose a boop

“S/N, wasn’t there something you wanted to tell dada?” You sat up as Tsukishima took his son into his arms

“What’d you want to say, bud?”

The little boy let a little yawn escape from him as he did his best to open his eyes, looking up to his tall father, meeting his hazel-gold eyes

“wawr,” the little boy, basically asleep at this point, let out

“Wawr?”

“He means to rawr cause he said that’s how dinosaurs say ‘I love you,’” you hummed as you brushed your hand down the back of your son’s head, leaning close to press a kiss into his hair

S/N leaned onto Tsukishima, fast asleep, his little thumb already stuck in his mouth as the two of you decided to head up

“I love you too, buddy,” he smiled as he carefully rest his head on his son’s as he carried him upstairs with you closely following behind him

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

Tags (let me know if you wanna be tagged for all my haikyuu posts): @yams046 @mazey-chan @sunboikyo00 @kara-grayson04 @fortheloveofbakugo @tsumtsumsemi @1-800-wholesome @yamagucci @realityisoftendisapointing @plantisnotplant @pink-panda-pancakes @differentballooncollection @osamusamusamu@therainroguefanfiction @euphorihan @turquoiselace @macaronnv @oxmaddy @mrkoala4prsdnt @curiouslilbeast @plantisnotplant@therestless101 @abcdaichi @oyasenpai @kaaidalupita @lovinnoya @wisepandaslimeland @killuaking @kattykurr @bbymilkbread @tsumtsumland @suunikimchi @woah-there-cowboy-or-cowgirl @amandahh626 @nabisonyeo94 @wntrmn @dai-tsukki-desu @peteunderoos @ohyoumakemelive @aka-a-shii @shinhiromi @wompwomphq @lollypop-lam @isentsworld @blue-melody @u-wakatoshii @moondriplets @lovinnoya @yuueisteria @humanitysbiggestsimp @cjphoenix135 @inarizaki-captain @closetfurrytsukishima @chibichab @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @kuroosbixh @lavearchives @sweet-sour-devil-ish @daichis-kitty @creepyproxies @itsmarziapei @skyh20 @yehetstudies @that-chick212 @proherotheflamehashira @celestair

2K notes · View notes

kiddiegore · 4 years

Text

You Need To Calm Down

What if one way the boys fall asleep is by sucking their girlfriends nipple for comfort? It starts as a joke but they end up getting really into it?

@skyguy-peach this one’s for youuuu <3

Bokuto

his team lost their game :(

he spent the day sulking after that

to calm him down you told him to take a nap with you

he was so pouty 🥺 he’ll drag his feet to your bed and collapse on you

“cuddles 🥺” he’d ask and OF COURSE YOU SAY YES LIKE UR NOT A MONSTER !!

next thing you know your holding him, his head on your chest

but he can’t sleep

the way you’re stroking his head isn’t enough

“bokubaby? What’s wrong?”

“i cant sleep” his voice muffles against your his hoodie

his hands slipped under the fabric, “Warm..”

you giggled watching him shove his head under the hoodie

suddenly you got an idea

“bo~ I know a way to get you to bed”

his head poked out of the hood, looking at his little pouty face made you coo

slipping down your bra, you brought his face to your boob, motioning for him to suck

hus eyes lit up as he immediately wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking softly, no questions asked

bo isn’t really one to question things, especially when boobs are involved

there was a quiet presence in your room, which isn’t really usual with bo. His face rested under your hoodie and shirt, mouth sucking on your nipple with his eyes closed.

his breathing slowed and his body relaxed while you cradled him, eventually slipping into a deep sleep, letting your nipple be released from his mouth.

you smiled at your boy under your hood, letting him keep his face in your warmth so he wouldn’t wake up back into his emo mode.

placing a soft kiss on his head, you let bokuto sleep for a hour or two, as you watched baking/cooking vids in the meantime.

when he starts to stir you caress his face, trying to coax him back to sleep. but alas, it was too late, he was waking up.

“hi baby~” you cooed, watching him rub thr tiredness out of his eyes. bokuto smiled that classic, goofy, signature bokuto smile at you and slipped his head out of your hoodie. “can’t elieve i sucked your boob to go to sleep.” he jokes, “i see why babies do this, it was comfy as fuck.”

“well maybe we should do it more often.” you suggested

“hell yeah we should, now come here i want the other one!!”

Akaashi

our editor boy 🥺

he was so stressed :(

they threw him into another project and he hasn’t even finished the first one

they won’t even extend his deadline and so that means staying up later and-

“keiji? are you okay?”

you shut your book, akaashis hands were gripping his hair, elbows on the desk, staring at the panels infront of him

he sighed, “i think i need a break..”

awh, opening your arms, you waitedfor your sleep deprived boyfriend to lay down

as he layed in your arms, you couldn’t help but notice how nervous akaashi looked

“y/n...do you remember the other night when we made love..”

you smiled, “how could i forget, you fell asleep while sucking on my nipple keiji~” you teased

then you realized, “you want to suck them again? will that make you feel better?”

he nodded sheepishly

you kissed his cheek, “alright then, if it’ll make you rest.”

you peeled off your shirt and bra, bringing keiji to your breast

his lips attached softly to your nipple, sucking gently and giving kitten licks

his other hand rested on your breast for more control, but it wasn’t long before sleep took hold of him

the way you cradled him and the comfortable feeling of you in his mouth was just too much, he was out like a light

once akaashi was asleep you laid his head down on the pillow next to you. His arms sprawled out like a toddler asleep in their crib, and you couldn’t help but coo at the sight. You threw you shirt back on, wincing a bit as it rubbed against your sore nipple.

waltzing over to keijis surprisingly neat looking desk, you sat down and started going over all the panels he was working on, translating words and fixing grammar mistakes. You put in headphones playing a playlist you made for him to stay focused.

you were too in the moment to notice akaashi stirring, eventually waking up startled because he had fell asleep when there’s so much work to be done. He also blushed realizing that he fell asleep attached to your breast like a new born.

but that’s besides the point, he looked over to see you gracefully doing his work, going back and fourth with both projects at once, looking at notes about what his boss said needed to be added.

he forgets you both work together sometimes and that he could just ask you for help. Keiji got out of the bed and came up behind you in his desk chair, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. You jumped a bit, he had startled you.

grinning a bit, he took the airpods out of your ears, “Thank you my love, I don’t know what i’d do without you.” He peppers kisses all over your soft lips, admiration and love in his eyes.

he’s so happy that he has you to help him relax, and he definitely loves the idea of sucking your nipples in order to get that far, even if he denies he even asked to begin with.

Kenma

“no”

“please 🥺”

“no”

“kenmaaaa”

“i’m playing right now, plus what would we even gain from me doing that”

“taking a break and laying with your lovely girlfriend isn’t enough?”

he turns and looks at you

blinks

then turns back around

“BITCH-“

kenma sighs putting down his headphones and tying his hair back into its loose pony tail

your body sprawled out on the bed, “cmooonnn”

he huffed and collapsed ontop of you, smiling at your soft giggles

his hands rubbed up and down your sides, as you both talked about anything and everything,, it was 3am after all

“i heard that bokutos girlfriend let him suck her boob to go to sleep after his game”

“dead ass?? did it work??”

kenma shrugged

“should we try?”

kenmas face flushed, “i mean,,sure i guess..”

you unhooked your bra and motioned for him to get under your hoodie

“its so warmf” his muffled voice said and you let out a laugh, startling your cat 🥺

kenmas face rested between both boobs, sucking each nipple one at a time before sticking to the one he liked more

soft noises left kenmas mouth as he sucked on your nipples. you couldn’t help but moan a little, quietly of course. kenma got so lost in the feeling he didn’t even notice his breathing slow down.

he felt so calm, his stress from work gone, all he could focus on was your soft skin in his mouth.

your hands stroked his locks, scratching slightly at his scalp, making him sigh out of pleasure.

soon he drifted off to sleep, face nuzzling between the valley of your breasts. your head turned to look at the clock, “4:43am.”

“goodnight kenma..” you said as you dozed off.

the next morning, 1:36pm to be exact, kenma woke up. a little startled as his face was still under your shirt, a little bit of drool on your chest, whoops.

he remembered how he ended up like this and blushed, slipping his head from under your hood, just to see you on your phone watching a game theory fnaf video.

“good morning ken~” you say, leaning to kiss his forehead.

he didn’t respond, just laying back ontop of you, his face resting in the crook of your neck, but his eyes watching the video with you.

you turned up the phone so he could hear better, stroking his back with your free hand.

“i wonder if she’ll do it again after my charity stream tonight..” kenma thought to himself, regardless he thanks you for introducing him into his new sleeping method.

he also needs to thank bokuto for telling him about that as well.

i hope you guys liked this 🥺 it was so fun to write!! me and fern were talking about it when i was in her inbox and it spiraled from there 😼. @fern-writes-ig

have a good rest of your day everyone!!

4K notes · View notes

seijorhi · 3 years

Text

Imitation

Commission for @beany-goes-dark I hope you like it, bby!

Kuroo Tetsurou x female reader

TW kidnapping/captivity, stockholm syndrome, referenced unnamed character death, mindbreak, implied abuse, forced pregnancy, breeding kink (kinda?), unhealthy relationships

He calls you kitten, mostly. Sometimes sweetheart. You don’t mind the pet names, especially when he says them so affectionately, with that lazy, indulgent smirk of his. It’s the other name that bothers you, the one that slips out in the heat of him fucking you, the one he whispers in the early hours before dawn when he thinks you’re fast asleep.

Her name.

It’s soft and pretty, spoken with a reverence that belongs in holy places, edged with a bitter wistfulness that makes something small inside of you shatter into a thousand pieces every time you hear it.

There are pictures of her; on his desk, lining the walls. One time when he let you sleep in his bed you found one lying under your pillow - hers at one point, you guess. The photo couldn’t have been more than a few years old, but it was worn, the edges crinkled and the image a little faded. You wonder how many nights he’s wasted lying in bed staring at it, fingers slowly tracing the lines of her face.

You wonder whether he pulls it out after he’s finished with you for the night, like he’s returning to her when all is said and done.

She’s beautiful. Even with tears in her eyes, the smile on her frozen face strained and unnatural, she’s gorgeous. You suppose it’s not hard to see why he fell for her in the first place.

And you can see why he chose you. She’s prettier than you by far, there’s no denying that, but your hair is similar, and there’s something in the shape of her face, the colour of your eyes. You might not be identical, but it’s more than just a passing resemblance.

And under the dim, flickering lights of his basement, you suppose it’s good enough.

Good enough means you get to eat. Not stale bread and plain rice spaced too far apart, but home cooked meals. Bowls of soup and curries, fresh fruit and warm drinks, once he even brought you dessert - chocolate dipped strawberries. Her favourite. He’d smiled as he fed them to you, hazel eyes darkening as you obediently licked and sucked the sweet, red juice from the fingers he slid between your lips.

Such a good girl for him.

Good girls get rewarded. A soft mattress. Blankets. Pretty clothes. Kuroo likes to spoil you when you play along. He’s nicer, too. You get kisses instead of punishments, and sometimes when he’s finished taking what he needs, he’ll stay - strong, muscular arms curled around your waist, your head tucked against his shoulder as he strokes your hair and hums an unfamiliar tune.

You can almost pretend there’s not a chain locked around your ankle when he kisses you and tells you how much he loves you. How badly he needs you.

Not you. Never you. You’ll never be her.

And it’s cruel, you think in the dead of the night when sleep is just out of reach, the way Kuroo treats you. Not the punishments or the icy indifference and isolation he subjects you to when you’re anything less than perfect, but the way he toys with you.

For as much as he wants you to be her, Kuroo never fails to remind you that you’re not.

Your voice isn’t hers, you say and do the wrong things - you can’t love him like she did. And when he’s reminded of that, your adoring captor turns cold. He becomes unloving. Distant.

Irritated.

Sometimes you catch him staring, those dark eyes flickering intently across your face, and you know that it’s not you he’s seeing - only to watch as they harden, all the softness and love leaching from hazel depths as the illusion fades.

There were others before you.

You don’t know how many, or what happened to them, but the day Kuroo brought home a friend, and apathetic, cat-like eyes appraise you, your suspicions were all but confirmed.

“Another one, Kuroo?” he scoffs, barely sparing you another glance.

Your captor ignores the comment entirely, and a moment later you’re tugged into his lap to be played with and fussed over as the two old friends catch up.

Kenma doesn’t visit often and rarely without Kuroo, but on the days Kuroo decides you’ve been good enough to roam the house freely, sometimes you catch him slipping in and out. He doesn’t pay you any mind, and why would he?

You’re just the latest plaything. A temporary pet.

Until the day you finally gather the courage to speak, clinging to the corner of the living room wall, barely peeking your head out.

“What happened to her?”

It’s obvious who you’re referring to.

And maybe it’s the fresh bruises that mar your pretty skin, or maybe he just doesn’t care to keep Kuroo’s secrets anymore, because he lets out a quiet sigh.

“She died.”

You flinch at his bluntness, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. The disdain on Kenma’s face is almost enough for you to tuck tail and run, and pray that he doesn’t tell Kuroo that you’ve been misbehaving, but as he turns to leave, you realise that if you don’t ask now, you might never get another chance, and you have to know.

“Did he kill her?”

He falters, just for a second.

“No,” he says. Slowly, he turns - not to face you, but to stare at a photograph sitting by the coffee table; Kuroo, with his arms wrapped around her, his lips pressed to her cheek in a loving kiss. If you ignore the clear discomfort on her face, the tears glistening in her eyes, it makes for a cute picture. You loathe the very sight of it. “She got pregnant and went into labour too early. He wouldn’t take her to the hospital, didn’t want to risk it, I guess.” He shrugs, but when he glances back at you there’s an uncharacteristic hardness to his features. “They didn’t make it.”

Nausea twists at your gut, and for one single moment, your heart breaks for her. For him. You’ve never really believed in soulmates or true love, but you have to wonder if that’s what she was to Kuroo. The be all, end all.

She must have been, for him to still be trying to keep her alive years later.

As if he can read the thoughts racing through your mind, golden eyes narrow into a withering scowl. “You’ll never come close to replacing her.”

It’s more than apathy, you realise. He hates you - well, not you specifically, but whatever you represent. He might not say anything to Kuroo, at least not within your earshot, but it’s clear that Kenma couldn’t care less whether you lived or died at the hands of his friend.

He turns to leave then, apparently done with the conversation, but you can’t stop the words that tumble from your lips. “How many?”

Kenma doesn’t acknowledge that he even heard the question, at least not until he reaches the front door. When he speaks, his voice is so quiet that you barely catch it at all. “You’re the fourth.”

In the beginning, it was a method of survival. It was obvious that Kuroo was bigger than you, stronger too. When he told you that you were his, when he called you by her name, you didn’t argue. You played your role - it was better, wasn’t it, to feed into the delusion than to make him mad by trying to break it?

But it’s been months now. Nobody is coming for you, nobody but him cares what happens to you anymore. You’re no closer to figuring out a way to escape, and you’re terrified that if you try and he catches you, you’ll end up like the others.

Kuroo… can be nice. Loving, even. He’s handsome and he takes care of you, when you’re good. He doesn’t enjoy inflicting pain, he doesn’t hurt you unless you deserve it. You need him - he’s the one who feeds you, who gives you clothes to wear, shelters you. If he decides tomorrow that you’re not good enough, what’s to stop him from ending it right then and there?

It’s not like you could fight him off, months locked in his basement have robbed you of what little physical strength you had left. It’s not like anybody else could stop him, or would even care to.

You’d die, and just like the other’s before you, you’d be forgotten, nothing but a pale imitation that quickly wore out its usefulness.

He might never love you like he loved her. And Kenma’s right, you won’t ever be able to replace her, but maybe… maybe if you give him what he wants, what he lost, he could find a way to love you for you.

You can give him the baby he wants.

Hours later, when the front door unlocks and Kuroo walks in, he barely has a chance to drop his bag and kick off his shoes before you’re bouncing towards him. Strong arms catch you when you leap, securing you against his chest as your legs wrap around his hips, “Did you miss me that much, kitten?” he asks with a grin, walking the both of you inside.

“I love you,” you breathlessly answer instead, reaching up to tangle a hand in raven locks and draw him down into a desperate, needy kiss before he has a chance to reply.

It’ll be enough.

It has to be.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere kuroo #yandere kuroo x reader #yandere kuroo tetsurou #yandere kuroo tetsuro x reader #tw stockholm syndrome #tw kidnapping #tw abuse #tw pregnancy #tw breeding kink #tw mindbreak #tw character death

727 notes · View notes

alicemitch09writes · 3 years

Text

last love

pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x reader

summary: Nothing was the same anymore, that much was clear. But it is really? Is it really too late for it all?

author’s notes: This is the final part to the first love trilogy. Please go read the first one, then its sequel - skinny love, before this, otherwise you’ll be confused.

also available on ao3.

disclaimer: i own NOTHING but the plot.

He wakes up with a start – sweating all over, heart pounding against his chest, sleep slowly washes over before realizing where he was and the humid heat that was summer gracing his room. He let out a relieved sigh, falling back into his sheets.

“Tetsuroo, wake up already!” came his mother’s voice, which resounded through the house.

The teen waited until his heart calmed to finally get out of bed, still drenched in sweat. A mirror stood across him, revealing his image – still the same gangly guy with serious bed hair, but his eyes still looked tired, even though his bags had lessened.

Grabbing a towel, he takes a quick shower.

He pretends to not have seen the look on his mother’s face when he wolfs on his breakfast, giving her a quick sloppy kiss on the cheek, before grabbing his bag and leaves.

His phone rings – a text message, he flips his phone and sees a text from his sister, quickly typing a reply before going to the music app. Plugging on his earphones, he begins to walk down a familiar path.

Leaning his head back, clear blue skies greet him. It was too much of a good day today.

Closing his eyes, he soaked up on the light, warming his face. When he opened them, the train station was in clear sight, his steps quickened.

Four stops and twelve blocks later, and he was walking down a place he’s grown familiar with the past few months. The grass was still greener, the flowers were much brighter, and the trees were tall as ever – maybe because it was summer. But the paint job was still terrible, even though they had maintenance work on them.

Upon entering the hospital, he nods at the nurses and staff – all of which, were used to his presence for the past months, adjusting the weight of his right arm, carrying his bag.

Kuroo Tetsturou fell into a routine – he woke up, got dressed, ate breakfast, made small talk with his parents or sister, and went to the hospital. It’s been that way for months.

He stood in front of the door, about to knock when he heard her – a soft strumming and singing.

“I love this place, but it’s haunted without you…”

He felt the familiar skip of his heart at the sound of her voice. Carefully pushing it open, he finds (Name), playing her ukulele, pen, and notebook on her lap.

“My tired heart is beating so slow,” A thoughtful look crosses her face as she sings as if testing the lyrics. She quickly sketches down on her notebook – chords, and lyrics, falling into her element. Picking her ukulele, she strummed slowly, trying the new lyrics – “Our hearts sing less than we wanted, we wanted, our hearts sing ‘cause we do not know, we do not know” – a small smile gracing her lips when they came out.

Without even knowing, his body moved on its own accord, stepping inside and towards her.

The song had a light melody to it, repetitive on the notes, yet strangely melancholic and full of longing. Yet somehow, unfinished. She stopped for a moment, stumped, before going over it again. Despite her minor slip up, she smiled through it and went over the song again – she was a perfectionist like that.

The sound of the door clicking broke the moment, (Name) looking up to find Kuroo standing in front of him, surprise written all over her face.

“H-Hey, (Name).” Kuroo says, lifting a hand in greeting.

She gives him a nod, awkwardly glances at him, then back to her notes.

“How’s your song going?”

She fiddles with the page, chewing on her bottom lip. “It’s coming.”

“I see.” He nods, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “By the way, I got something for you.” Putting his bag on the foot of her bed, he unzips it and takes out a pink package. “Sis bought some stuff for you, says you’ll be needing it once you get into college.”

Slowly, a smile forms on her face as she reached for it, Kuroo careful as to not let their fingers touch. “That’s nice of her.”

Sitting himself on the couch, he looked at the clutter of papers on the table – university brochures. “Have you decided on where to go? Or are you still bent on getting to where uncle is teaching?” he asked teasingly, especially on the last question, an attempt to lighten the mood.

Her lip curled by a fraction, hugging her instrument close. “…well, it is my dream school and all.”

Kuroo nods at that. “Well, knowing you, you’ll make it – with or without the influence of your dad.” She smiled at that, playing with the ends of her short hair. His eyes followed her fingers tangle in those (hair color) locks, remembering how strange it was to see her usual locks chopped off, of combing them when she was still unconscious.

A tense silence fills in – both teens staring at anything but each other, unsure of what to say next.

“How about you?”

Kuroo made a questioning hum.

“Keiji told me you’re yet to enroll into college,” there was her ever-present concerned tone, (eye color) eyes soft, yet, basing on her tone, there was no mistaking how carefully she had asked.

Peering up to her through his fringe, Kuroo contemplated on his next words. “I haven’t decided on a course yet.” He lied, shrugging offhandedly. “No worries, though, I’ve been working part-time.” That was half a lie, he had just started working at a small grocery store. A small distraction outside the four corners of his own home and the hospital.

Her brows furrowed slightly with worry before it eased away when a knock came from the door. Her doctor – a small middle-aged man named Dr. Ishioka peeked in, beaming at the sight of her.

“Good morning, (Last name)-chan.” Noticing she was not alone, he gave Kuroo a short nod. “And to you, too, Kuroo-kun.”

Kuroo returned the gesture, having been a familiar face in the hospital for the past few months.

“How are we today?”

“Good,” she smiled, still hugging her ukulele, forgetting her stationary in front of her. When her doctor noticed, he merely gave it a glance. Having finally noticed at what he was looking at, she started looking sheepish. “A-Ah, I was just writing my song!”

The doctor smiled kindly. “And how is it?”

“I-It’s coming,” she replied, using the same answer she gave Kuroo earlier. “I get stuck on words, and things are a little fuzzy to figure out.”

The man nods, hands buried deep in his pocket. “That’s good, getting some brainwork done. However, don’t stress yourself, okay? You’ve been asleep for six months, and it’ll still take some time for your body to get used to moving.”

“She won’t,” Kuroo says aloud, (Name) and Dr. Ishioka turns to him. “I’ll make sure of it.”

(Name) nods dutifully, finally putting down her instrument.

In his professional eyes, there clearly was an underlying tension between the two. Instead of pushing into it, he knew where his limits were.

“Well, that’s good to hear then. You’re in good hands, (Last name)-chan.”

The girl looks up to the doctor, who gives her a kind smile before leaving her a few instructions, which Kuroo was quick to take note of, before leaving.

Just as the door closed behind him, he heaved a sigh, wishing the best for the two.

“(Last name)-saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan!” a loud, jolly voice erupted in the room, making a dash for the girl. Barely a step in, Yaku kicked him in the back, grabbing the tall teen by the collar and pulling him back. “Geh- “

“Lev, control yourself! This is a hospital, not a playground! Geez, it’s like taking care of a giant baby.” Meeting her gaze, he lifted a hand. “Yo, (Last name), you look well.”

She laughed, eyes soft at the sight of the Nekoma team filling her room. Kenma, sitting beside her, had his eyes stuck to his console per usual.

“(Last name),” Noboyuki nods, holding out a fruit basket. “we brought you fruits.”

Her smile grew, touched by the gesture. “Thank you, Kai!”

Kenma puts away his console and takes the fruit basket from the taller lad, putting it on a nearby table. He plucks an orange and disappears into the washroom, momentarily leaving (Name) with the Nekoma team.

“(Last Name)-san, your hair!” Inuoka pointed out. “It’s grown so much!”

She laughed at his comment, touching her hair consciously. “Yes, it has. My head feels lighter, actually.”

“Then, you’re keeping it short?”

She hums, tapping her finger to her chin in thought. “Who knows?”

“It looks good, actually,” Yaku commented. “Then again, it’s your hair, so it’s your choice.”

After the short pleasantries, the boys headed towards the couch and sat down, Fukunaga flipping through the channels. Kenma emerges from the washroom, sitting in his spot next to her.

“Ah, it’s your mom’s turn to watch you, right?” Noboyuki asked, sitting on the couch.

She hummed, nodding, Kenma placing the oranges on a table in front of her as he plumped and propped some pillows behind her, making sure that she was comfortable. When he was done, he sat down and began to unpeel his orange, (Name) mimicking him.

“Although" she broke into a sigh, breaking off pieces of the orange "I just wish I could get out of here, it’s so stuffy in here. Not to mention, it gets kind of scary at night.” She shuddered, blaming it on the time when the boys from Fukurodani visited and Bokuto, who had been channel surfing, stopped upon a horror film – particularly on a very scary scene. Lest to say, she didn’t sleep well that night and Bokuto was nearly banned from visiting her again.

“That’s understandable, hospitals tend to be scary,” Noboyuki says kindly.

“You can say that again!” roared Yamamoto.

“Yamamoto, shut up.” Yaku reprimands the loud-mouthed boy.

“Lev, how’s your read block training going?” as soon as the question was asked, the Russian tensed, beginning to sweat profusely.

“A-Ah, it’s going great!”

“He still sucks at it,” Kenma says, munching on a slice of orange with his eyes glued to his game console. “And no amount of practice seems to work, it’s like he’s meant for failure.”

“You can say that again,” says Yamamoto, arms folded against his chest. “he’s a hopeless cause.”

“H-Hey, I’ve been practicing!”

“Bless Nekomata-sensei for ever thinking you had a chance.”

“Yaku-san, not you, too!”

“Time to scoot, little newt!”

“Goddamn it, Fukunaga!”

(Name) couldn’t help but laugh, missing her rowdy boys.

A month of being holed in here was enough to drive anyone insane – everything was too gray, too cold and too dull. It meant so much to her whenever someone came to visit, bringing color to her room and warmth to her heart. Even as they all ganged up on Lev, she knew they really cared. And as far as Kenma’s told him – being vice-captain and all, Lev’s actually not bad. Though, he is quite clumsy with executing his offense and defense. She missed this, she really did.

But the thing was, it just wasn’t the same anymore.

It was hard to be around him anymore, that was a fact.

When she woke up, it looked like she had emerged from a different world. Kuroo quickly called the doctors, happy tears slipping down his face. Too happy to know that she finally woke up – after six months! – he almost forgot to ring her parents of her recovery.

A few hours later, when she slowly came to, he walked back in the room. Happy tears filled the room, the happy parents engulfing their finally awakened sleeping beauty.

But at the sight of him, she suddenly shook and cried – Kuroo quickly ran out of the room before anyone told him to, for her sake. All his worst fears came to life.

The doctors had assured him that it was just the effects of being unconscious for so long – it was difficult to adjust to her surroundings and the people she cared about. Her mind might still be subjected to her previous mindset, long before she went into a coma. So, when she woke up, there was a lot to take in for her. But with the help of doctors, her family, and friends, she was able to come through.

In a span of two weeks, (Name) was showing progress with her recovery. She was still subjected to strains when she overworked herself, especially when it came to brain exercise. But overall, she was doing well, her energy revitalized with the support of her family and friends. And ever since she woke up, there’s not a day when a friend – from Nekoma or Fukurodani – would drop by and visit.

In fact, the only time she ever seemed comfortable was when he wasn’t in the scene. She was much more comfortable with being in the presence of others than with his. And that hurt.

Things just weren’t the same anymore.

She knew that.

He knew that.

And it was all because of that one mistake of his. Just the thought of it made his gut churn, his hands balled into fists, his anger to rise, geared towards him.

There was no questioning of her newfound fear of him, after all, it was also his fault. Kuroo accepted his fate wholeheartedly, even though it killed him.

He could hear his thoughts twisting: of the reason that he stayed, was to ease himself of the guilt, to make him feel better about himself.

So, he came up with a decision, once she’s done with her rehab, when she finally gets discharged, he’ll leave her alone. As much as it pained him, he knew it was for the best.

After all, who was he in her life anymore?

“To light the night, to help us grow…” she mumbled, jolting down her notebook. “It is not said I always know…” Her nose scrunches, having hit a block. Frustrated, she throws her hand in the air, looking around her quiet room. Everything looked too dull, too gray. Instinctively, her hands reached to her right, where her ukulele usually lay, only to find it sitting on the chair across her – her father, had visited earlier and played her a song in an attempt to cheer her up.

(Name) sat up, turns to her side to lower the rail before sliding her feet off the bed. The cold tingle on her toes was a sensation she never knew she’d want to feel again, having been bedridden for months. Taking deep breaths, she lifted her feet off, remembering to bear the weight – feeling like a toddler walking for the first time.

Just as she reached her ukulele, a harsh voice called out. “Didn’t the doctor say you aren’t supposed to strain yourself?”

She looked up, meeting Kuroo’s furious gaze, seeing her out of bed.

Technically, according to the doctor, she could walk quite well now and advised her to do some exercise when she can. Kuroo couldn’t help but overreact.

“B-But…” without a word, he gently helped her back to her bed. She didn’t argue, her mission to grab her ukulele forgotten.

He sighed, pulling up a chair. “You do want to get out, right?” She nods, slowly, withdrawing her fingers away.

“D-Dr. Ishioka says I’m good to walk now.”

“Is that so?” she nods, like a petulant child. Kuroo sighs, eyes apologetic. “I’m sorry for overreacting.”

“It’s okay.” Relaxing, she offered him a gentle smile, which lasted for a minute before realizing the bags under his eyes, how bloodshot his eyes were. “You seem tired.”

“Hm,” he yawned, massaging his throbbing temples. “shitty customer, don’t worry about it.”

“You should sleep.” she offered.

“I’ll be fine,” he calls off, turning his back to look for something to do, anything to avoid her eyes.

“Kuroo Tetsuroo,” she called, using her tone – one he and Kenma were fairly familiar with, even the team. It pleased her to see him tense, slowly facing her. A triumphant smile was ready to break into her face, but concern about his welfare won over.

His shoulders slumped, surrendering. That made her smile, a tiny bit triumphant, before patting on her side. Instead, Kuroo resigned to sitting on a chair next to her bedside, leaning forward to rest his head on his folded arms.

“Are you sure you don’t want to lie down?” she offered, clearly displeased.

“I’m fine like this,” he tells her softly. I got used to it.

She looked like she wanted to argue but quickly closed her mouth shut. She moved closer so that he was laying on her lap. “Tetsuroo?”

“Hmm?”

“I-I wanna go to the gardens tomorrow, to stretch my legs.”

“All day?”

She nodded shyly, determined.

“Okay then, walking all day it is. By the way, how’s the song coming?”

Her shoulders fell, dejected. “It’s coming…I’m just stuck…”

Kuroo laughed, muffled by the sheets. And then he broke into a yawn, his head heavy, throbbing, eyelids drooping close but he fought to stay awake. Thin fingers soothingly ran through his hair, like they usually did, easing the tension from his head and replacing it with the sense of calmness.

“Hey, (Name)?” She leaned close, face illuminated by the moonlight. How he wanted to touch her face. “Sing me a song?

Smoothing her fingers through his hair, a soft smile crept its way to his lips, especially when she began to sing. His heart tugged, slowly beating faster – he always loved hearing her sing with or without an instrument. In one exhale, his subconscious slipping, the last thing he heard was her sweet voice and the beating of his heart.

“Hey, (Name).”

“Hm?”

“Why have you been avoiding Kuroo?”

She froze, slowly turning her head to blond-dyed teen beside her, hands folded against his chest and console free. He watched her from the corner of his eye, golden eyes inquisitive, waiting.

“Of course, you knew.” She smiled, leaning into his shoulder. “It’s not that I’m avoiding him…it’s just,” she lifted her hands, making gestures before letting them fall. “I-I don’t know how to talk to him...I’m not sure I want to. Just…being around him makes me feel like a black hole if that even makes sense.” The blank TV screen in front of her bed reflected the two, lying side by side on her bed, but she could also see the view outside her window – a dark blanket of night, the moon obscured by clouds.

“Hey, Kenma?” There was a question she was dying to ask, gnawing her the moment she woke up. She wasn’t even sure if she was ready for the answer, regardless of what it was. “My mind’s a bit fuzzy, and I was unconscious and all, but I do remember voices in the dark.” Swallowing thickly, she says. “A-And I swore I heard Tetsuroo.”

Kenma’s eyes noticeable widened, his shoulders heavy from bearing weights of two sides. In his head, he was debating whether he should tell her or not – he was obligated to, after all.

“Yeah, that was him.” He exhaled, recalling the past six months. “Kuroo didn’t leave your side since he found out you were admitted.”

She let out a weak gasp, the dam breaking. Alarmed, the blonde turned to his friend. “Why are you crying? Are you happy? Sad?”

“Both.” She sobbed, crying against his shoulder. But also, she felt incredibly guilty.

Kenma sighed, really, these two were a handful. When they talked, they both had to be careful of the other, as if they threaded on thin ice. He’s had enough of bearing their secrets, especially when it concerned the other – it made him the third wheel.

But as frustrating as they were, they were still his friends and he cared about them.

A few months into (Name) under coma, Kuroo Tetsuroo received word that he had been qualified for the colleges he applied for, one, in particular, was in the United Kingdom. Driven by guilt, he had to turn down their offers of scholarships for her, too broken to even take a step forward.

A day after she woke up, he called the admissions, asking if he was still qualified. To his luck, he still was.

Although the semester wouldn’t be until next month, Kuroo’s things were all packed. He didn’t bother saying a word to anyone, it was for the best.

It was a dick move, but then again, he was a dick.

This was the biggest leap of faith in his life, the opportunity of a lifetime, he had to take it. Yet, as much as his heart yearned for it, it felt like he was taking the easy way out.

He’ll miss Tokyo, his home, his family, his friends.

But what he’ll miss the most was her.

It’ll be alright, he thought to himself. After all, she’ll be off to college, her dream school, where she can start anew.

And as much as he hated the thought of it, he knew that she’ll meet someone else, someone who’ll treasure her in ways he failed to.

It felt surreal to be outside again, to have the sun and the wind kiss her skin. Hands instinctively flew to her hair as the wind picked up, remembering that it was still growing and it was cropped short.

What’s more surreal was the audition she got for her dream school, which was in a week’s time, having considered her situation. Nekoma was going to have a practice match soon with Karasuno, a mini-reunion was planned by the two schools. She was finally going to meet Kenma’s special someone he met at a Game Expo. It was almost too much for her heart to take.

But something was missing in all this fanfare – Kuroo.

For days, she hasn’t heard a word from him, hasn’t seen from him since. If she traced it back, it started just a day before she was released. She missed him. She really did. Her heart ached just to see a familiar hide of messy black hair, his gangly form, his easy smile.

And then she received a call from Bokuto, frantically telling her that Kuroo was at the hospital.

Apparently, he was out drinking with a few friends and suddenly got into a fight. Although he started it, he didn’t fight back, allowing the guy to beat him to a pulp. Had Bokuto not been there and Kuroo’d be critical.

Without a word, she ran out of her house, thoughts flying to Kuroo.

Upon arrival, her heart broke at the sight of him, hating that his arm was bandaged, the bruises and stitches on his face. She had the exact look of heartbreak when he saw her, all the guilt washed over her as she rushed to his side.

“What happened to you, Tetsurou?” he smelled of blood, dirt, sweat, and alcohol, but she didn’t care. “I know you’re one to pick fights, but I never thought you’d go this far.”

He turned away, avoiding her in eyes. That hurt. Kenma’s words surfaced, making her heart twinge.

“What’s she doing here?” he asked Bokuto angrily, completely ignoring her presence. She flinched at his tone, mind flashing to a certain memory.

“She was the best person to call,” Akaashi answered calmly, appearing next to the grey-haired teen. “Kuroo-san, go home. And more importantly, you and (Last name)-san need to talk.”

“Eh? But Akaashi, don’t you think Kuroo’s out of it?”

“I’m very much sober, thank you very much.” Kuroo threw a glare at the raven-haired setter, ignoring Bokuto’s concern, or (Name)’s.

After being given painkillers, Kuroo was good to go. And before anyone could stop him, he walked out of the hospital.

(Name) looked at the two teens worriedly before chasing after him, calling after his retreating form. But he didn’t look back, not even once. She didn’t stop chasing after him either.

Finally, he stopped by the riverside next to the bridge – the same one she found he and Kenma some years ago. Although puzzled, she followed him down the steps. Knowing that she was behind him, that she wouldn’t leave him alone, Kuroo sighed – ignoring the pain from his chest. He sat down, she took it as an invitation, sitting a step above him.

The silence between them was thick with a heavy weight of guilt wrought by the past few months, hearts burdened heavily. It was almost unbearable to even breathe, running away was the perfect option, yet the two stayed, another option weighing heavier.

They remain like that for at least an hour, the night growing older with every second. Two teenagers too afraid to tell the other what they wanted to say, fear holding them back.

Finally, for what seemed like forever, Kuroo exhaled through his nose, a heavy sigh. That was never a good sign. “I’m going to Cambridge.”

Her head whipped to him, he worried she’d get a whiplash. But she didn’t, her world just stopped. “W-What…?”

Sighing again, he pressed his forehead to his palms, unable to meet her eyes. It wasn’t what he wanted to say, but this was for the best.

“The next semester won’t start until next month, but in a few days or weeks, I was called to take a test and offered a scholarship. So, I leave sometime this month.”

She could feel her heart twisting with every word he said, and she hated it – hated the way he talked to her, hated how he seemed to avoid her. Then again, she pretty much did the same thing when she woke up. She missed him, she really did.

Brought by the pent-up emotions she’s been feeling, she called out, in a shaky tone. “Hey, Tetsu, won’t you listen to my song?”

Song? He peeked up at her. So, she finally got to finish her song.

Swallowing hard, she reached for her ukulele – the sight of the band-aid sent a sharp pain in his heart, a painful reminder – fingers positioned over the strings, shaking just by a fraction. Before he could stop her, she glanced up at him and began singing.

I love this place

But haunted without you

My tired heart is beating so slow

Our hearts sing less than we wanted

We wanted

Our hearts sing cause

We do not know

Her singing was as gentle as her music, enough to bring tears to his eyes.

He was reminded of the many times she’d sing to him, in times when he was at his lowest. To cheer him up, all it took was a few comforting words, a gentle smile, a warm hug, or her offering a song. It was cheesy, but he loved it, especially because when she sang to him, it would be only him and just him alone, making it very personal for him. He was selfish like that, especially with her.

To light the night

To help us grow

It is not said I always know

Of course, you don’t, he thought laughingly.

He could feel the longing in her voice, the loneliness – it made her seem like she was a princess locked up in a tower. Its lyrics tugged at him, knowing the feeling so well.

When their eyes met, he saw the young woman he fell in love with when they were 8, the young woman who held his heart now.

You can catch me

Don't you run

If you live another day in this happy little house

The fire’s here to stay

The emotion in her eyes made his throat dry, tugging his heart – did she just?

To light the night

To help us grow

It is not said I always know

His heart was hammering wildly against his chest, a rush of emotions burning inside, igniting his veins. The words were at the tip of his tongue, heart ready to burst out of his chest to tell her.

But not just yet, he didn’t want to jinx it, couldn’t bring himself to, he wanted to hear more.

Please don't make a fuss

It won't go away

The wonder of it all the wonder that I made

I am here to stay

Stay

Overwhelmed by her emotions, by the pent-up emotions she’s withheld for so long, tears began streaming down her face uncontrollably. Alarmed, Kuroo quickly took her ukulele aside and enveloped her in his arms.

At his touch, everything she’s been holding in surfaced - missing him, loving him. “I’m sorry!” she cried, returning the hug, tightening her hold on him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“No, don’t say you’re sorry.” He pulls back to plant a kiss to her forehead, thumbs brushing her tears away. “Don’t you ever feel sorry, (Name).” He whispered against her skin.

Kenma’s neutral look of displeasure came to mind. He felt like an idiot. How could he be so stupid to have dismissed her feelings over his?

(Name) couldn't stop crying, her heart was so full of emotions that it seemed like it would burst anytime. She felt loved, so loved in Kuroo's arms - from the boy she's loved for so long. And somehow, his embrace made everything better, everything was forgiven, forgotten – yet, it made things worse at the same time.

“Tetsurou, please don’t go…” glossy (eye color) eyes begging, his heart aching. She couldn't take not having him by her side, couldn't take the thought of losing him. “Don’t go, please.” Gentle hands reached up to cup his face, tears continuing to stream down. “Stay, please.”

Oh, those (eye color) eyes, she had no idea of its effect on him.

“Stay?”

Placing his larger hands in hers, he leaned his forehead with hers, their noses bumping.

“Always.”

#kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsurou #reader insert #kuroo tetsurou angst #nekoma #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! angst #haikyuu!! fic #haikyuu!! x reader #hq fic #hq x reader #alicemitch09 writes

68 notes · View notes

spritewrites · 3 years

Text

Breakfast Threats (Squealing Santa 2k20)

Fandom: Haikyuu

Characters: Kozume Kenma & Kuroo Tetsurou (Kuroken)

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: This is my submission for Squealing Santa 2020, organized by @ticklygiggles!! My assignment was @secretleeblogging, who requested lee!Kenma wake up tickles. I LOVED doing this assignment, Kenma’s my favorite character and especially soft sleepy Kenma is everything to me. Happy holidays, hope you enjoy!!

Kozume Kenma was absolutely, 100 percent certain that the sun was a malicious force of nature specifically designed to ruin his day. No benevolent fire orb could ever be so rude as to burn into his retinas with that much intensity. It had to be the work of some evil spirit; maybe a demon, maybe a homophobic ancestor, who could say? Definitely something out for vengeance, because whatever was coercing the cosmos to shine all their light directly through his window at all hours surely sought his demise.

He scrunched his nose, wincing, and tried to explain this phenomenon to the lanky lump of messy black hair and volleyball muscle beside him. Tetsurou would understand.

Unfortunately, between the sun and the pillow and the muscle, the best language he could manage was “Time s’it?”

Beside him, the lump moved. A long arm reached over Kenma, fumbled, and grabbed a phone. Kuroo Tetsurou, in all his bedhead glory, blinked blearily at the screen. “Eight.”

Kenma groaned, turning onto his stomach and burying his face in his pillow. “S’too bright.” He heard Tetsurou yawn, and selfishly peeked one eye open to catch a glimpse. His boyfriend was sitting up, shirtless and glowing in the early morning light, all tousled hair and red lips. Kenma hid his smile in the pillow.

“Need coffee,” Tetsurou grumbled. “Want any?”

Kenma shook his head, pulling the blankets further up around his shoulders. Artificial energy was the last thing he needed; what he really wanted was more sleep. He was dimly aware of the weight next to him on the bed disappearing and soft footsteps making their way out the bedroom door, accompanied by mumbled words that sounded suspiciously like “More for me.”

With a sigh, Kenma relaxed into the plush sheets. Mornings, especially mornings after he’d been up late playing games, were never his thing. Bright mornings like this one were extra trying on his vision, which was nearly nocturnal after years of gaming. Still, the prospect of being able to fall back asleep and wake up later to a hot breakfast from Tetsurou was too delicious to resist. Already he could feel himself drifting off, slipping back out of consciousness and into the soft embrace of sleep.

It didn’t feel like a moment had passed when something was shaking his leg. Somebody was speaking, but it didn’t really matter who, not when his bed was as warm as it was. Just a few more minutes, he thought to himself.

“C’mon, kitten,” Tetsurou insisted, sounding equal parts annoyed and fond. “You got an extra two hours, it’s time to get up.”

“Mmf,” Kenma grunted eloquently, shoving his face deeper into the pillow. Another shake of his leg made him squirm, irritated. “Little longer.”

“You’ve had long enough; our breakfast is cold.”

There was a brief pause as Kenma formulated and internally executed an elaborate multi-pronged argument, which ended up finally exiting his mouth as “Microwave.”

“Okay, fair,” Tetsurou replied, and damn him, Kenma could hear his smile. How dare he tease when the stakes were this high? Extra sleep was pretty much a matter of life and death. “Guess I’ll have to make you.”

Kenma still wasn’t entirely conscious, but some tiny alarm went off in his sleep-addled brain. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make him furrow his brow and curl his toes beneath the sheets. “…Can’t make me.”

“Oh?” There was something in Tetsurou’s tone that Kenma couldn’t put his finger on. Amusement, maybe? Mischief?

Suddenly, he felt the warmth of the blankets tugged away, leaving only Kenma in his pajamas on the bare mattress. He curled in on himself, whining in protest. “Hey!”

“See?” Tetsurou teased, holding the bedding teasingly out of reach. “This is how your breakfast feels. Cold, sad…”

“Give em back,” Kenma groaned, aware of how petulant he sounded but too exhausted to care. “Lemme sleep!”

“Sleep is for the weak.” The mattress creaked, and Kenma felt a soft weight settle on his legs. “And you’re strong, aren’t you, kitten?”

Before he could reply, Kenma felt Tetsu’s presence on his legs shift and move closer to the head of the bed. Cold fingers snuck under his hoodie and waltzed up his spine, sending goosebumps racing to follow. He tensed, clutching the pillow. Oh.

“Tetsu—”

“Mm?” Tetsurou replied, all innocence. His strong body slid up Kenma’s, easily slotting into place on top of him and letting the weight of his body drape over his boyfriend. Kenma twitched as Tetsurou’s strong legs straddled his hips – soothing as the feeling was, he was also hyper-aware that he couldn’t squirm away. The fingers on his back spidered back down, effortlessly light in their touch.

Kenma took a shaky breath. “W-what’re you—”

“Told you I’d make you.” Tetsurou’s smirk pressed up between his shoulder blades, and Kenma had to stifle a gasp. “You’re not ticklish, are you, sweetheart?”

“I—” The fingertips changed direction again, trailing back up his back, but skating dangerously close to his sides this time. Kenma gritted his teeth, fighting an inevitable smile. “You – you know the answer! Tetsu—”

This time, when the touch on his spine reached the nape of his neck, it stayed there, circling the soft part of his back where his neck met his shoulders. With a squeak, Kenma’s shoulders hitched up by his ears.

“Don’t you dare,” he hissed.

Tetsurou’s reply was so close to his ear that it was barely a whisper, ruffling his hair and making Kenma absolutely shiver. “You brought this on yourself, kitten.”

With that, Tetsurou’s fingertips curled, prodding carefully into the sides of his ribcage, and he began to press smiling kisses all over the back of Kenma’s neck. Kenma, for his part, did not fall into laughter immediately; rather, he let out what could only be described as a squeal and began kicking wildly. Fortunately, his ribs weren’t so bad that he couldn’t hide the laughter building in his chest. Unfortunately, the sleepiness that still clouded his mind had left him weak, soft, and seemingly even more ticklish than usual. Still, it wasn’t until the kisses migrated north to his ears, nosing into the gaps in his hair, that his squeaks turned into real giggles, high-pitched and sweet and absolutely delightful to Tetsurou.

“You’re so cute when you laugh!”

“Please, please, I – enough with the ears!”

“You have the cutest ears; I can’t not kiss—”

“You—” Kenma snorted into the pillow— “you obsess over ears?”

“Hmmm…” The kiss that Tetsurou pressed into the nape of his neck was whisper-soft. “Only yours.”

Kenma could feel his face burning, but didn’t dare lift his head lest Tetsurou see the redness on his cheeks and tease him about that, too. His concern didn’t last long, though, as the tickling in between his ribs moved to become squeezing at his sides, and he nearly gave then and there.

“Monster,” he gasped through his laughter, trying to kick. “Absolute menace, truly–”

“Now, Kenma,” Tetsurou chided, giving Kenma’s hipbones a squeeze and relishing the cackles that the action produced. “I don’t think you’re really in a position to be throwing around insults, are you?”

While his point certainly held up, Kenma wasn’t exactly in a rational place mentally. He was lost in laughter, hardly able to think through a haze of ticklishness, and his usual line of defense against attacks such as these (wild thrashing) was being significantly hindered by Tetsurou’s presence on his back. He tried kicking once more, but it was more of a flailing than anything else, and his boyfriend’s strong legs easily countered the attack.

“Careful,” Tetsurou teased, reaching back to give one of his knees a quick squeeze (and producing a delicious howl).

“I cahahan’t,” Kenma wailed, burying his face once more in a pillow that was now wet with tears of laughter. “Please, Tetsu, please–”

“Are you going to get up?” asked Tetsurou, who had just found a wonderful spot on Kenma’s waist that made him hiccup.

“I—I—” Kenma giggled helplessly. He could feel his cheeks started to ache from smiling, but something in his pride kept him from giving in. “You’re teasing, I—Oh, not there, Tetsu, plehehease!”

“Please what?” came the reply, but Kenma was laughing too hard to answer. “Please tickle you more?”

“Wahahait, I can’t—”

“Can’t what?”

Kenma snorted, twitching under his boyfriend as a rogue fingernail found its way into his underarm. As merciless as the tickling was, the relentless teasing was almost infinitely worse.

“You’re—that tickles, Tetsu—”

“Does it?” asked Tetsurou, amused. “Almost enough to make you come have breakfast with me?”

“I—ugh, fine, yes!” Kenma finally shouted between bouts of giggles.

Grinning triumphantly, Tetsurou pressed one last ticklish kiss to his boyfriend’s ear and rolled off him. Finally, Kenma turned over, blinking in the morning sun, face flushed and streaked with tears of laughter. His ribs heaved with the effort of replacing the lost oxygen, but he couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off his face.

“That… that was rude.”

Tetsurou reached over to boop his nose, earning a swat and a weak chuckle. “Just be glad you surrendered when you did, kitten. Your toes were next.”

Kenma tried his best not to curl his toes at the thought, but Tetsurou’s knowing look told him that he’d failed. “You can’t—stop making fun of me, alright, I was asleep and you practically tortured me.”

Tetsurou hummed thoughtfully at that, brushing some of Kenma’s hair out of his face. “Never told me to stop, though, did you?”

Crap. Kenma froze, face burning. Tetsurou, on the other hand, burst into laughter.

“Aww, does my little kitten like being tickled?”

“Shut up,” Kenma hissed, but Tetsurou was practically rolling with giggles.

“That’s so adorable—”

“Enough teasing!”

“Oh, come on,” Tetsurou smiled, giving his boyfriend’s forehead a quick kiss. “You’re just bitter that I won.”

“M’gonna get you back, you know,” Kenma grumbled, rubbing the last of the sleep from his eyes and revealing a competitive shine. “Except a billion times worse.”

Tetsurou snorted derisively, but Kenma would have to be blind to miss the way his eyes widened. “I’d like to see you try – hey!”

The finger that had wedged itself just south of Tetsurou’s ribcage gave an experimental wiggle, and Kenma’s lips quirked at the sound his boyfriend made. Flushing, Tetsurou wrapped a hand around the intruding touch and pushed it away, playing up his puppy eyes to his full ability.

“Can it at least wait till after breakfast?”

Kenma raised an eyebrow. “You have two minutes.”

“Two?!”

“Better be quick, sweetheart. One Mississippi… two Mississippi…”

Tetsurou was out of the room in a second, socks slipping on the hardwood and leaving Kenma snickering into his hoodie. After a moment, he plucked a blanket from where it had been discarded at the end of the bed and pulled it up over him, sighing and wiggling his toes in the warmth. Hmm.

Maybe three minutes.

#squealing santa 2k20 #tickling #tickle fic #haikyuu #kozume kenma #kuroo tetsurou #my fics #secretleeblogging #hope you like it!!!

91 notes · View notes

karasuno-writings · 4 years

Note

Yo. I'm new to your blog, so I'll try my best to be appreciative and polite to you. Doing this gotta be hard. So, I ain't gonna act like you inhuman. This is your work, and its darn good. You got support for that. Anyway, I hope this ain't a weird request. Decline if your wanna, no hard feelings. How about headcanons with Tsukishima, Hinata, Iwaizumi, Kuroo, and Kenma. Them having a sleepover with their s/o, and they put their head in their lap, and sing to them? Is that confusing, or too many?

Ah thank you so so much for your kind words, I’m really thankful of how thoughtful you are! It is a perfect request and a very wholesome one honestly!! Yes I loved this and don’t worry it was just right! Thank you so so much again!

And thank you all who helped yesterday, I am sorry if it was bothersome for me to make my breakdown public but honestly?? It was all of you who made me feel better. Special thanks to @normiewrites @bakupecs @leiawriteshaikyuu @oyaoyaoyoya @wolfishwriting and @a-q-rp (If you guys don’t want to be tagged just tell ma and sorry about that!) but if you wrote to me I really appreciate it, thank you all so much.

Tsukishima

You went to his house due to a storm that hit Miyagi late at night after a date the two of you had. Considering you were close to his home that is where the two of you rushed towards. At arrival you were soaking, and he definitely could not let you go home while it was dark and pouring, so he suggested for you to stay the night.

Of course you agreed, so he handed you some pajamas and let you take a hot shower, how horribly irresponsible of him would it be to leave you freeze and catch a cold after all.

Depending on your size you either wore the full set or you found the pants to be too big but just the shirt perfect. Either way they were Dinosaur print pajamas, and he was blushing when you came out of the bathroom.

He was wearing pajamas with a shark on the shirt, and looked way too cute for the frown that he has as a cover up for his slightly pink cheeks.

His gaze softens quick enough though, the two of you have been dating for a long time and he trusts you, he didn’t feel vulnerable as he thought he would, that was the biggest relief.

It was early enough so the two of you sat down to watch a movie, his pick was interstellar, and you didn’t complain so it was set.

15 minutes into the movie he pressed his lips on top of your head silently, your hair still wet from the shower, he could smell his shampoo which he immediately thought suited you, it felt so personal.

That’s what made him shift so your head rest on his lap. You were clearly confused by his actions but complied to rest your head on his legs, pleased at the affection that he was only prone to show in private.

Your wet hair was fresh to the touch and soft in his hands, so he absentmindedly ran his fingers through it, dividing stands and twisting strands, all while immersed in the movie.

Halfway through while being fully immersed, half conscious of what he was doing he started humming softly

You did not say anything as you knew better, but it however felt so heartfelt? It was truly a precious moment between the two of you.

Ever since that moment it is an unspoken habit between the two of you

He does it often, however it’s only late at night and while the two of you are enjoying quality time silently.

Hinata

He invited you over to his house for no real reason, he just wanted to spend more time with you and he thought it would be a nice “date”. So once you were at his house the first thing the two of you did was make a pillow fort

It was pretty big as you sat inside with your laptop playing some background music as you were just chatting it up. However he wanted to be closer to you so he just shuffled over.

Once next to you he grabbed your head and placed it on his lap, probably a little on the harsher side because of his excitement. “Let me play with your hair Y/N it just smells so good!”

As you nodded and chuckled he began untangling it and running his fingers through it. He either plays with it making small braids that he learned to do thanks to Natsu if it is long enough, or just gush about how nice it feels if it is short.

He is talking to you about all his aspirations and you know volleyball until a song comes into his head, and he just kinda starts drifting away and starts singing it to you

He is smiling the whole time as he sings, brushing his fingers over your hair and taking loose strands off your face while looking into your eyes.

He smiles when he is done singing and he just silently plays with your hair for a few moments, he is very talkative but the moments of shared silence are so genuine and he is just admiring you

He started lowkey crying because he loves you so much, when you notice and ask he just hugs you and tells you that he just can’t believe he has you???

He is such an angel, this started happening frequently ever since, like whenever you are on a date in a more chill plan like staying at home he is very much singing to you while stroking your hair

Please do it for him too, if you sing to him he will sing along with you and honestly karaoke duets happen very often between the two of you

Iwaizumi

The first time you stayed over was because he had just lost a pretty important match and you wanted to support him. He really appreciate the offer and the fact that it was your idea was so much better, he just wanted to take his head out of the game.

When he saw you wearing pajamas he had this adorable blush on because honestly you looked great. He usually sleeps in boxers but he is a gentleman so he had some comfortable shorts on.

You both were chilling on his couch, this was after all a plan the came up out of the blue, so you were eating snacks while watching your favorite series. His arm was draped around you in a really lazy way, and his rough fingertips brushing your arm tenderly.

As you watched the last chapter together he felt you getting heavier against his chest and he looked at you, confirming that you were indeed asleep.

He started at you for a few moments, you looked so soft with you eyes closed, he didn’t want to disturb you so he panicked for at least five seconds.

After that he relaxed and very carefully help you lie down on the couch, resting your head on his lap.

He pressed a kiss to you forehead and changed the finale so you would not miss it, and put on an animated film because he is a sucker for them.

He loved your hair so he began playing with it, knowing it would help you relax, he almost does it as a scalp massage, he is so good as helping you relieve stress. He was tender but rough, pretty much like he is with most things.

You woke up slightly to hear him singing, he was not singing along to anything particularly, he just felt so at calm with you sleeping on his lap.

You did not stir until he finished singing, that is when he noticed you were awake once more. The blood rushed straight up to his cheeks after that, he was very embarrassed.

That is until you pressed a soft kiss on his lips as you shuffled to look at him. His hands found their way to you back and he was smiling onto your lips. He just loves you so much.

He does it often, but the singing is a rare occurrence

Kenma

Neither of you planned the sleepover, however when the two of you decided to take a break from playing you discovered that it was incredibly late, so he asked you to stay the night.

He had this small smile as he said it, he liked the idea of getting to spend more time with you, specially if it meant he got to cuddle you

He lent you some pajamas or comfy clothes of his, he liked when you wore his clothing, it was a small gesture of what you meant to him. He is a firm believer that to date you just need a really deep friendship so he likes those small details that give off they you are indeed dating.

The two of you had been playing games but now he just wanted to watch you play, so the two of you sat on the floor, his legs wrapped around you as he rest his chin on your shoulder, his arms loosely wrapped around you as he held his gaze on the game.

It was late at night, the two of you had watched a movie and played some board games, he is unsurprisingly good at them, and now you were laying on his bed, head on his lap.

The two of you were quiet as his hands found his way onto your hair, he then started playing with it, soft fingers meticulously dividing strands and tenderly running up and down your hair.

He then started humming, a soft and almost ethereal tune, as his eyes become droopy and his hands touched your hair carefully.

He has a beautiful singing voice, he however will not sing often, just in these precious moments.

Like that the both of you drifted asleep, only shifting almost in the morning, as you snuggled up to him.

Kuroo

It started as a study date, the two of you knew exams were approaching so it always helped to study together, however when you suggested staying over this boy was ecstatic.

When you arrived the two of you did study, long enough to get worn out. The second he saw you stress he decided to call it quits. He had prepared everything for this moment, from the movie the two of you would watch to the games you were to play.

When the two of you went to put on you pajamas he just smirked and mocked you, you just looked adorable and he honestly didn’t know how else to cope.

This dork lay blankets on the floor and pillows surrounding it, for the two of you to be comfortable so he literally lift you up and lay you down on the little place he had set up. He was about to put the movie but he got really caught up with talking to you and joking around to make you relax.

Then the two of you decided to actually watch the movie, some disney movie you had always loved, and before you could make yourself comfortable he was behind you, softly laying your head on his legs.

His hands quickly found their way to your hair he loved to play with it as a side distraction from the movie, and knowing it was something you liked made it all better.

He sang along to every single song in the movie and honestly he played with you hair almost the entirety of it, you ended up very relaxed and his he now smelled like you, he was really happy about it.

If you sing with him he will be beyond happy, making voices for different characters and all.

However after it ended the two of you remained there, and as he saw you he smirked and sang you a song very dear to him, it was soft and honestly he just appreciated that he could spend this moments with you.

You closed your eyes because it felt really good and just before you opened them he kissed you softly, smiling lightly. He was happy he took you by surprise.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu tsukishima #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #Kei Tsukishima #tsukishima x reader #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurō #kozume kenma #kenma x reader #Hinata Shōyō

2K notes · View notes

genesisrose74 · 4 years

Text

Sun-kissed

A/n: If you can’t tell, Hinata is my favorite sunshine ever, and I adore him with my entire being. Here’s a little something for him because it’s always missing Shoyo hours - there are manga spoilers from around chapter 371 onward though, so be warned!

Pairing: (Brazil timeskip!) Hinata x Reader

Word Count: 2070

*******

The blazing sun of Rio set below the horizon, allowing a taste of salvation to wash over as a cooler breeze swept the bustling city. You sit perched on a plush bed, with brush in one hand and a blow dryer in the other. A towel snugly wraps around your body, but it’s quickly opted out for soft pajama shorts and a flannel that smell uncanny to tangerines and sunscreen. The scent invades your senses like a summer’s afternoon spent at the beach, and you welcome the comforting feeling that settles in your body as the oversized fabric ends at your thighs.

Idly scrolling through recommended shows on your laptop and humming softly to a relaxing song reverberating throughout the room, you don’t register the sound of the front entrance being unlocked nor the shuffling of feet in the living room. When you finally think you’ve decided on something to watch and go to pause your music, the bedroom door opens and filters a warm glow of light into your sitting space.

A smile graces your features when you recognize the figure leaning on the doorframe, his brightening presence ever more highlighted by the rays of the living room behind him.

“Is that my flannel?” he grins, taking notice of your chosen apparel.

“Why hello to you too, Shoyo,” you reply with an air of sarcasm, although the glimmer in your eyes indicates him to your amusement.

The Karasuno alumni pads over to the bedside before unceremoniously flopping onto the mattress, his unruly hair even more of a mess from the baseball cap he’s likely had on all day. “Hi, angel.” His greeting is muffled by the comforter below him, but you can hear well enough what he says. You stifle a laugh and reach a hand over to smooth out his tousled locks. “Tired?”

He groans in response, turning his head to face you with a pout. “Sand is stupid sometimes.”

“If you say that, the sand isn’t going to like you very much.”

“Too bad, it can deal with my annoyance in stupid sandy silence.”

Hinata props himself up on his elbows to examine your setup, a cheeky smile returning when he toys with the fabric of the flannel you decided to wear - yeah, most definitely his.

“You’ve sure settled in nicely,” he notes.

“And you’re sweaty as heck and lying on the bed,” you retort, eyeing his drenched athletic shirt as he splays out on the mattress.

He hums in acknowledgment, but makes no effort to move from his position, instead resting his chin on his palm. He gazes at you with bright eyes.

“Wanna shower with me then? Conserve some water?” he proposes, and you snort at his attempt to sell the idea.

“I just took one actually, but good sales pitch,” you grin while gesturing to your damp hair, still slightly wet despite using the blow dryer earlier.

He whines like a puppy being denied attention.

“Well that’s no fun,” he mutters.

His other hand skims over the back of your own, pulling it towards him and placing a gentle kiss on your palm.

“Did you already eat?” you inquire as your thumb strokes his cheek, temporarily choosing to put aside the fact that the he wanted to distract you from his (very necessary) shower. “Pedro brought back some dinner before he went out to study, so there’s still some left in the kitchen if you want.”

“I got something before I came home, but thank you,” he gives you a hazy smile. “Sleep well today?”

“Yeah. That early morning arrival at the airport ended up working out, since I woke up at a good time this afternoon.”

“If you’re up for it tomorrow, I can show you around the city. Maybe sit at the beach for a bit while I practice too?”

Your eyes light up at the idea, and Hinata chuckles at your excitement. “That sounds nice.”

The male leans towards your face and presses a soft kiss to your lips, full of tender affection and pure warmth. Gentle touch grazes the side of your face to pull you closer, skin on the pads of his fingers quite rough, but his touch still captivating you easily. That scent of sunscreen and sandy shores strengthens with his proximity, and you poke his chest with a giggle after grasping the strength to pull back.

“Don’t think I don’t know your games, sunshine. Shower,” you insist, drawing out the word.

He groans, rolling off the side of the bed and trudging towards the bathroom, snagging some clothes from his drawer to change into. “I was this close to making you forget.”

“Sure you were.”

He was very close to making you forget, actually, but you don’t tell him that.

The gentle cascading of water sounds from the bathroom connected to Hinata’s room, and you turn your eyes back to your laptop. Pressing play on one of your sitcoms, you relax into the many pillows stacked from behind and pull your boyfriend’s flannel even tighter around you. Despite declining his offer to shower earlier, you find yourself sneaking a glance at the bathroom doorway more than once, already missing the soothing warmth he brought with his mere presence alone.

During one of these occasional peeks at the door, your eye catches the glare of a picture frame sitting on a nearby desk, and you smile fondly at it from across the room. Even without being very close, you can tell it’s a graduation photo from the striking amount of orange in the frame, some being Hinata’s hair, and the other being a giant bouquet that he gave you after the ceremony.

You had your arms thrown around him, flowers clasped between your hands near his waist, and both of you were smiling like idiots in the shot. The photo was one of your favorites, and it was proudly on display in your room back home. In return for the bouquet, you gave him a big crow plushie - a gag gift that you didn’t expect him to hold on to for long, but you soon found out that wasn’t the case when it appeared in a facetime call during his first week in Rio.

It reminds me of you, he had said, hugging the stuffed animal tightly to his chest.

The bathroom door opened abruptly, promptly breaking your attention from the photo on the desk. You hadn’t even realized that the shower water had turned off until now. Hinata ruffles a towel over his hair, bringing his mop of orange locks back to its more typical volume, despite it being just as damp as your own. He’s only in a pair of sweatpants, and you are definitely not complaining at the sight of a shirtless Shoyo, sun-kissed skin and toned body very much on display.

Thank you, beaches of Rio.

“See? It feels nice being all showered up,” you nod approvingly, trying to keep your eyes from raking over the male’s upper body - you’re failing quite miserably. Fortunately, for your sake, he decides not to comment on your staring.

“I know, you’re right,” he sighs out, “I just wanted to catch up on lost time with you.”

As he situates himself back beside you on the bed, you give him a quick peck on the nose that leaves his ears a light pink. Even after all this time, he’ll get flustered at the smallest of affectionate gestures with which you surprise him.

“Well, you’ve got me to yourself for two whole weeks, so there’s plenty of time,” you point out.

“Kenma was really generous with all that vacation time at once.”

“There’s a backup editor that he’s been looking to test out on the channel, so he told me to take a break while that happens.”

Kenma - AKA Kodzuken - is indeed your boss, and a very great one at that. He lets you handle all the video editing for his channel, and you’re also invited to come along with him on business travels whenever you’re able. He knew you’d been working diligently when it came to your job, and saw testing the backup editor as a perfect opportunity to give you a break.

When he heard you were planning a visit to see Hinata sometime soon, the former Nekoma student practically forced you to take a vacation and ‘check in on my favorite sponsor’.

You constantly call him Shoyo’s sugar daddy, at which point he’ll chuck his cat plushies at you, but he doesn’t necessarily object either.

“What’re you smiling about now?” Hinata inquires, poking at your cheek.

“I just remembered something funny,” you wave it off, knowing Kenma would come after your ass if you said anything referencing the streamer’s nickname.

Hinata slides over and pulls you into his side, and your head instinctively lands on his chest. The gentle thrum of his heartbeat resounding in your ear relaxes you immensely. His hand traces lazily from your shoulder blades down your arm, and he takes your hand in his own with a squeeze.

“I missed you like crazy, you know,” he murmurs, and you feel like you’ll start melting into a puddle at any moment.

“I missed you too. So much,” you respond, earning another squeeze to your hand.

“Want to stay in my room instead of the guest one tonight?”

You nestle yourself into him even further, eliciting a chuckle from the Karasuno alumni. “Yes please.”

The both of you remain that way for a long time, barely paying mind to the show on your laptop. Warm hands glide gently through your hair, and you trace small patterns on his arms as he does so, just basking in the long awaited presence of his light, that sun-kissed skin so inviting against your fingers.

•••••

The next thing you know, the sound of birds coaxe you awake, eyes fluttering open to find strong arms wrapped around you. A pair of legs are intricately tangled with your own beneath cloud-like sheets, and steady breaths gently fan against your neck. You spot your closed laptop on the bedside table in front of you and realize that you must have fallen asleep at some point last night, Hinata likely taking care of things and getting you properly into bed.

A smile breaks out on your face at the thought of him gingerly placing you under the covers, before quietly getting in next to you. Elated emotions from said imaginations only grow when you feel lips pepper the back of your neck in soft kisses, notifying you that your boyfriend is also up.

“Did I wake you?” you ask quietly, hand reaching back to smooth out Hinata’s messy bed hair. You didn’t even have to be facing him to know that the orange strands were sticking in every direction.

“No, I was already half-awake,” he rasps, voice not yet void of its morning grogginess. You find that you missed the sound of it more than you initially realized.

You turn your body around to face a sleepy Hinata, a hazy grin playing at the corners of his mouth as you let out a yawn.

“Morning, pretty thing,” he chuckles, before stifling a yawn of his own. “Breakfast?”

“Five more minutes,” you groan. Limbs latch around the orange haired male like a koala bear, a lazy attempt to keep him in bed for just a while longer. You know that Shoyo had picked up a habit of getting up and ready for the day at early hours, but you were determined to make him stick around to cuddle - if even for just a moment longer.

A lingering kiss is pressed to your forehead once you’re settled again, and you can sense Hinata’s face breaking into a sunny smile. “That’s perfectly fine with me.”

Even if every blazing star in the sky fizzled out and ceased to shine, you’re certain that wouldn’t matter to you. All the warmth and light you’ve ever needed or wanted could be found in your reach - encasing you in a love so raw, yet you knew it would never burn you. Sun-kissed skin embraces your entire being, and you hardly notice the incoming daylight streaming over the streets of Brazil.

240 notes · View notes

1magine-engine · 3 years

Text

1404 (Prologue)

Fandom: Haikyuu!! Pairing: Kuroo Tetsuro x Youtuber Reader Words: 1500+ Posted: 26/11/20

Song(s) Featured: Moon on the Water by The Dying Breed (from Beck MCS)

“It’s actually really exciting.”

Tetsuro nods, knowing Kenma means it, whatever he’s talking about. Probably something about Bouncing Ball corp. and the new game they have in development. Really, Kenma hasn’t stopped talking about it since the project started almost half a year ago and while Tetsuro is interested enough to usually listen to him rave and gush, today’s just not that kind of day.

“-and the new voice actor I have in mind is really good. We save a lot of time and money cause they speak in both languages.”

Yup, they’re probably phenomenal if Kenma is so easy to compliment them. Tetsuro racks his brain trying to remember who he’s talking about.

“I’m actually thinking about having her as a guest on stream soon.”

Uh huh.

“Oh and I’m also going to shave my head and give my hair to that middle school girl who won’t stop messaging.”

Good for them.

“Okay, how many of those have you had today?”

Tetsuro looks down at the cup of coffee he’s forgotten he’s holding. “Uh…” his brows furrow and it’s enough for Kenma to pry the cup out of his hand and set it on the far end of the table.

“And you’re always telling me to get proper sleep.” Kenma gives him a look, sipping on his own drink. He exits Discord, Tetsuro’s sagging back, drooping shoulders and lifeless eyes, more concerning than his followers’ Rule 34 fanart. “Seriously are you okay man? Have you been sleeping? At all?”

Tetsuro shakes his head, the mere mention of sleep enough to slump him over the table completely. As far as he knows, a waiter hadn’t wiped it after the last couple of people who sat down, or before he and Kenma took their place. He finds he doesn’t care. “Stupid neighbors, always either fighting or fucking all night. It’s been going on for a month now.”

“Oh that’s rough.” Kenma winces, handing him back his coffee, knowing lunch break doesn’t last forever and Tetsuro has to return to his office as a zombie. “Tried filing a noise complaint?”

He was about to, one week into the couple’s constant spats, but hearing them scream at the top of their lungs at each other about money troubles and barely keeping themselves afloat stayed his hand. Tetsuro knows how difficult it is to get an apartment in his building, a prime position near the business district at a reasonable price. He also knows his neighbors to an extent, at least what they do for a living as a preschool teacher and a struggling musician. As much as he needs his sleep, he’s not so heartless as to put them out on the streets. “It’s fine,” he promises as he downs the rest of his coffee. “I’ve been living next door to these guys for almost two years now and they’ve always seemed happy before this. They’ll work through it and I then I can get some sleep.”

“If you say so,” Kenma says but he still stares down and shakes his head at the next waitress who tries to approach them with a pot of coffee.

It’s a month and two weeks in that Tetsuro reconsiders that noise complaint or at least considers gathering his neighbors from the same floor and staging an intervention. Mrs. Mamizuka across the hall has expressed her concerns to Kuroo in the elevator one morning, telling him they’ll surely notice how loud and disturbing they’ve become when they realize she hasn’t been giving them as many of her baked goods as she normally does. And Tanaka who’s taking up residence at the end of their hall has advised him to just go out at night, go to the convenience store next to the building and wait till they tire each other out or go partying with friends.

Oh, to be a college student again.

He’s not even in his mid-twenties and he wishes for the energy he used to have, the kind that could drive him through all his classes on just 3 hours of sleep. Maybe then, he could finish his damned paperwork. Maybe then he wouldn’t fall asleep on the bus and miss his stop.

“Been up working late nights Kuroo-san?” the night guard, Sato asks him when he drags his feet into the lobby after midnight.

Kuroo nods, also wishing he had half the middle aged man’s energy, because even at the latest hours of the night, Sato-san greets every tenant and guest with a smile. Kuroo could only force himself to return it. “Something like that.”

“Well you look pretty tuckered out. You should probably put off whatever you’re working on for the night Kuroo-san.” He wags an index finger like a weather man telling a fact about nature on the news. “Sleep is important you know.”

Doesn’t he know it.

When he crosses the threshold of his apartment, he doesn’t bother turning on the lights. He heads straight for his bedroom and musters up the energy to take off his jacket, tie, socks and shoes. The night is silent, save for a light chorus of crickets outside his window. He’s gotten home later than he would have any other time, a crescent moon sitting just past its peak outside his window. And he hopes, oh does he hope, that it means his neighbors have already fought all they can fight for the night. Or maybe the husband hasn’t come home yet and that’s why it hasn’t started.

He regrets even thinking of it when he settles into bed and hears the distant sound of a door being unlocked and slammed open.

Tetsuro sighs, already rolling over to each for his messenger bag, his earphones sitting somewhere at the bottom. He stops his rummaging when no bedlam disturbs the night. Footsteps prick his ears but they don’t stomp and aren’t followed by booming voices trying to talk over each other. He rolls back over, leaning towards the wall and hearing nothing. Odd. More shuffling and trudging draw his eye up to the crag ceiling, to the apartment above his.

The kind elderly couple who used to live up there had mentioned wanting to move to the country for months. “The air is fresher there, better for old people like us,” the wife chuckled at him once when he’d helped carry her groceries across the lobby to the elevator. Not a week later, Tetsuro was helping the husband and their son move furniture out, just in time to miss the beginning of a hard spot in their neighbor’s relationship. But whoever has taken their place isn’t so fortunate but then again, maybe it’s him that’s out of luck. In the darkness of his apartment he stares up at the ceiling, brows furrowed.

He prays, prays to whatever kami watches over the luck and serenity of apartment buildings that it isn’t another couple that should’ve broken up yesterday. Hell, he’ll even take a new family with a rowdy kid. At least kids are usually out by 10 with their parents careful not to wake them, not banging on the walls or banging each other. No movie he’s watched or game he’s been in has ever left him in such suspense. After some more shuffling and gentle creak of chair legs against a wood floor, there’s silence.

Tetsuro sits up, holding his breath.

“Full moon sways,

gently in the night of one fine day.”

A car drives by, the doppler effect of it rushing down the street drowning out the first few notes of an acoustic guitar. Deft fingers play with practiced ease but do so with languid movement, catching on the strings more than plucking them. The voice, high and crooning, is the same, beautiful but almost lazy. Tired, he realizes, is a better word; she sounds as tired as he remembers he feels, once all the irritation at his neighbors and frustration with missing his stop ebbs away. Laying back down, he listens.

"On my way, looking for a moment with my dear.

Full moon waves, slowly on the surface of the lake.

You are there, smiling in my arms

for all those years."

Even as the song switches to strumming with the slightest bit of force, Tetsuro finds himself sinking deeper into his pillow, eyes growing heavy.

"What a fool, I don’t know ‘bout tomorrow,

or what it’s like to be, Ah,"

He’s never heard the song in his life, neither does he remember enough of his English classes from high school to understand everything, but he doesn’t need to.

"I was sure, I couldn’t let myself go,

even though I feel, the end."

Her voice and her guitar are muffled by the layers of wood and concrete between them. His window is open to let the cool night air and silver light of the moon in and he can tell hers is as well but she drowns out the chirping of crickets, the cars that drive by and even Tetsuro’s own thoughts as little by little, then all at once, he falls asleep.

"Full moon sways, gently in the night one fine day

You were there, smiling in my arms,

for all these years."

When he opens his eyes, it’s slow. Sleep inertia from a deep sleep is always worse but he finds his eyes widening as it goes away in minutes and he feel more rested than he has in years.

He blinks, staring up at the ceiling.

“Huh.”

#haikyuu!!#hq #hq kuroo #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo tetsuro fluff #kuroo tetsuro #kenma kozume #beck mongolian chop squad #kuroo x reader

21 notes · View notes

chucklegigglechortlesnort · 4 years

Note

Can I please request for kuroo, oikawa, akaashi and kenma with s/o who is a scaredy cat plzzzz♥️♥️

Ooooo these are so cute yes

Scaredy-cat Headcanons:

Oikawa Tooru:

Movie dates were a very frequent occurrence with the two of you. Usually it was an alien documentary or a rom-com playing as you and Oikawa cuddled up on the couch surrounded by pillows, blankets, and an abundance of snacks.

You sat already bundled up as your boyfriend played the movie for the night. Apparently he had been wanting to watch it for a while now, and you, knowing very little about the film willingly agreed.

It wasn’t until you got about 30 minutes in that you realized what exactly this film was.

It was some old alien horror movie about astronauts who’s ship got invaded by man eating, extra terrestrial beings. As soon as the monster appeared and brutally tore its victim to shreds before the eyes of an apathetic cat, you had your head buried in Tooru’s chest and you were shaking like a leaf.

The sounds of anguish halted as your boyfriend paused the movie.

“Awwww, is little _______-chan scared? How cute.”

“Shut up Tooru. It’s not funny.”

You were still shaking and Oikawa was starting to feel a little bad. He shuffled in his seat, prying you off of his chest to get a better look at you. Tears glistened in your eyes and you avoided looking at him, trying with no avail to bury your face back in his chest.

“There’s nothing to fear _____-chan, I promise. It’s just a movie. Besides I’m right here to protect you from all the monsters.” He proclaimed proudly, tapping you on the nose and placing a smooch on your forehead.

You sigh and finally manage to bury your face into the crook of his neck. He snickers at your clinginess, wrapping his arms around you.

“I guess this means it’s romcom time now, doesn’t it?”

“Yes please.”

“How cheesy.”

“Don’t act like you don’t love it.”

It’s safe to say that no movie suggestion went un-surveyed by you from here on out.

Akaashi Keiji:

“Keiji, please I don’t want it crawling into my mouth at night.”

“You know that’s a myth right?”

“I don’t care, I just want it dead, please?”

With a sigh your boyfriend disappears from the room, much to your dismay. You call out after him, refusing to move from your spot in fear that you’ll loose the spider looming in the corner of the room and never see it again. He returns shortly after with a cup and a piece of paper at the ready.

“Can’t you just whack it with a shoe or something?”

Akaashi sighs, rolling his eyes at your remark. “Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t want spider guts all over my nice white walls and it’s better to just relocate it.”

You watch from a safe distance as he scoops the rather docile arthropod from its perch in the corner and carting it over to the window where he used the cup to flick it out into nature.

“There you go, all gone. Better?”

Immediately you feel more at ease now that that thing is out of sight, an unreasonable amount of fear running through your body.

“Better. Thank you Keiji.”

He sighs, smirking as you walk into him, his arms wrapping around you securely.

You feel his shoulders shaking and look up to find him suppressing his laughter.

“You would think you saw a tarantula with how loud you screamed.”

“It was HUGE!”

“It was the size of a dime.”

You pull away from your boyfriend, grumbling, “I’ll shove a dime up your nose and we’ll see if you’re still laughing after that.”

This only made him laugh harder.

Kozume Kenma:

You absolutely hated horror games.

They were the bane of your existence, but of course that’s what made you the perfect candidate for a play through.

At least, that had been Kenma’s thought process before he had sat you down in front of a stream to play until dawn with him.

You had known exactly what you were getting into, however, it must’ve been the fact that it was dark outside and that the room itself was pitch black, because you were shaking like a leaf in your chair and clinging onto your boyfriends arm.

“Kenma...”

You feebly buried your face into his shoulder and pulled your headset off your ears.

Kenma’s gaze slid over to you where you sat, hunched over the arm of your chair, clinging onto him as if your life depended on it. He was hit with a pang of guilt when he felt you shaking beside him.

The faint crashes and screams coming from your headset came to a halt and you peaked up from your boyfriends shoulder to see that the game had been paused.

“Do you wanna take a break?”

You nodded, an idea popping into your head.

“Can we play hunie pop?”

His facial expression morphed into one of distaste and you giggled despite yourself.

“Hm... fine.”

Hunie Pop was definitely not one of his favorite games, but after seeing the smile on your face he decided he didn’t really mind it after all.

Kuroo Tetsuro:

After an entire day on your feet, all you wanted to do was rest.

The commute to work had been awful, work itself had been awful, and the ride home had been, guess what? awful.

You really didn’t like working in customer service, especially as a waitress. Pleasant customers were far and few between and you had to put up with creepy old geezers making passes at you during your shifts like they were being paid to hit on you rather than you to serve them their damn food.

The thought of cuddling up with your boyfriend and falling asleep in his arms sounded heavenly right now.

However, when you trudged through the doorway, you were greeted with nothing but a dark and silent house. Slipping off your shoes, you walked further down the corridor, peaking around the corners and into rooms.

“Tetsu? Are you home?”

All you heard in response was a long and drawn out creek.

A chill flew up your spine and all the hairs on your body stood on end.

“Tetsu-”

“Hey there sweetheart-”

A deep voice rumbled into your ear just as a pair of arms came to wrap around your waist.

With out thinking, you drove your elbow deep into the gut of your captor, whipping around to shove them away before immediately halting your movements.

Your eyes widen as a monsoon of guilt crashes down on you. Doubled over on the floor beneath you was your boyfriend, clad in his pj's, cradling his stomach.

“Oh my god Tetsuro I’m so sorry!”

You fell to your knees in front of him, placing a hand on his shoulder and trying to get a look at his face to see how bad the pain was.

“I know I should probably be upset right now, but honestly I’m kinda proud.”

His voice was strained, but not enough for you to be alarmed. It also sounded kind of... amused?

“What??”

“It kind of gives me peace of mind to know that you’re able to defend yourself.”

You snort, letting the tension slip from your shoulders, “You’re so weird.”

“And your freakishly strong when you’re scared.”

“Hey- I was not scared. I was just... surprised is all.”

“Surprised enough to assault your loving boyfriend who just wanted a hug?”

“Don’t act like you weren’t trying to scare me, you ass.”

“So you admit that you were scared then?”

You pause, staring at your dork of a significant other with a scowl on your face.

“I’m too tired for this, get your ass in bed or you’re sleeping on the hallway floor tonight.”

Kuroo barked out a laugh, scrambling off the floor and towards your bedroom, but not before you landed a sharp smack on his ass as he passed by you. He let out a yelp of surprise and practically skipped through the doorway.

Yes he was an ass, but he was your ass, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #Kuroo Tetsurou #oikawa tooru #akaashi keiji #Kozume Kenma #haikyuu x reader #kuroo x reader #oikawa x reader #akaashi x reader #kenma x reader #sfw #fluff

13 notes · View notes

shitty-flangst-writer · 4 years

Text

Flower

Kenma woke up to a heavy body on top of his successfully trapping his body on the bed while simultaneously providing him the heat that he needed for early spring. He looked at the mess of hair on his chest and the pillow blocking the face of its owner.

He’s going to suffocate. He thought as he tried to remove the pillow without disturbing the sleeping guy.

When Kenma has successfully taken the pillow away and set it beside him, the face scrunched the other curled farther into his chest. Kenma’s arms wound around the others body then kissed his head.

Looking around there was barely any sun shining through the curtains. His eyes finding the clock, he finds that it wasn’t even seven am. His gaze lingering longer, he finds the button near his phone and beside that the accursed ring.

He remembers how his best friend changed his life with a few words.

===============

It was finally here, a time high school students were waiting for, graduation. As a spectator Kenma stood with his underclassmen as the ceremony draws to a close. With a final congratulations and a few ending and parting remarks, it was over. The volleyball club (or what has remained of it) goes outside of the auditorium to wait by the gym.

The volleyball team had planned it before they even went to nationals, Kenma would even go as far as to say that it was planned before Inter High itself. Sitting down near the door, he took his game out and began playing knowing full well that the confessions to his seniors will take fairly long.

He had already cleared three levels when someone sat down beside him.

“You’re not even going to congratulate me, vice-cap?” Tetsurou asked.

“You don’t need my congratulations.”

“You know you could be nice to me every once in a while Kenma.” He said while resting his chin on my shoulder.

“It would only do to your head, we don’t need you to have a bigger ego.” Kenma told his friend and the other only drew himself closer.

“Kuro, if you keep doing that I’ll lose.” He only grumbled and continued his cuddle attack.

“Kuro.” Kenma groaned.

“Come with me outside.” Tetsurou said finally creating some distance between them.

“Why? Isn’t the party gonna start yet?”

“No, we’re still waiting for Fukurodani. Please, Ken.” He said his gaze shifting nervously albeit fondly as he looked into the cat-like eyes of Kozume Kenma.

Able to sense the shift in his best friend, Kenma wordlessly stood up then waited for Tetsurou to do the same. Tetsurou called out that they would be back warranting him a few “Good luck”‘s and knowing smirks. Confused, Kenma looked to Tetsurou for an explanation only to find that he was shifting nervously. Odd. He thought, he was about to ask what it was about when they were stopped by a girl walking up to them blushing and near tripping on her own feet.

“Kuroo-san, congratulations.” she said.

She’s pretty. Kenma thought. With her wavy black hair reaching her waist, her curves, her almond-like eyes, pink lips and make-up perfectly done to complement every asset that she had. He knew where this was going and he didn’t know why Tetsurou had to drag him here to witness this.

“Ah, thank you, Hana-san.” He replied. What a fitting name.

“Uhm, Kuroo-san, it’s our last day here and I keep hearing that you haven’t given you button to anyone yet.” she said. What? Kenma thought surprised.

“Oh, yeah, I’ve yet to be alone with my special person.” Tetsurou said while scratching the back of his head.

“I know this is highly unlikely, but I’d just want to tell you before we part, but...” She bowed at her waist while holding out a letter. “I like you Kuroo-san.”

Oh, did he really take me here to accept a confession in front of me? Was I supposed to be witness of some sort? Kenma thought bitterly. She’s perfect for him, beautiful, caring and smart from what I’ve heard.

“I’m sorry Hana-san, but I’ve already have someone special to me. I really hope you find the one for you.” Tetsurou said smiling sadly. He’s turning her down.

“I know Kuroo-san.” She smiled back. “I’m just letting you know, I’ve been your classmate for three years after all.” She then winked then pushed the letter to his hands.

“I’m not asking for anything but for you to read this, I guess, it’s the thought of every girl that has taken way too much interest in you.” She said walking away.

“I know he feels the same, but...” She paused and looked at Kenma. Kenma staring at her in surprise and confusion for even acknowledging him. “Good luck anyway, be brave Kuroo-san, you’ve had longer than I did to confess.” Tetsurou laughs and nods waving as she turns the corner.

“You haven’t given you button to anyone?” asked Kenma when Tetsurou pulled him to the other side of the building, the side near the fence and far from the people who want to go to the gym. They stop before Tetsurou answers him.

“No, like I said, I haven’t had the chance.”

“Is it someone from Fukurodani?” Kenma asked.

“Uh, also no.” he then started fidgeting. Kenma was confused, the last time Tetsurou was with nervous when it came to him was when they first met.

“Oh.” said Kenma. Good going, Kenma. He though to himself.

“Is that all you’re gonna say?” Tetsurou laughed.

“What do you want me to say?” Kenma countered.

“Let’s leave that at that.” Tetsurou said then wiped his hands on his slacks then puts both his hands inside his pockets.

“Can you be honest with me?” He asked Kenma.

Kenma could only nod, confused and a little anxious. He was scared, he was always so good at reading Tetsurou, what made this any different?

“Please tell me you’ll listen, that you’ll let me finish, that you won’t run away?” Tetsurou near pleaded. Kenma nodded one more time.

“Please say it.” He said. It’s been so long since Kenma has seen him this vulnerable.

“I’ll listen, I’ll let you finish, I won’t run away. But you need to calm down Kuro.” Kenma told him in a soft voice, afraid to scare him further.

Tetsurou breathed out a laugh and straightened his body.

“Kozume Kenma, Kenma, Ken, my best friend, my other half. I’ve been hiding something from you...” He paused.

“I didn’t want to tell you, I didn’t want anything to come in between us. I wanted to be with you for the entirety of our lives. When you met Chibi, all I could think of was your face whenever you played him. How you were positively ecstatic when you looked at him. All I could think of was why couldn’t I have made you feel like that? It’s been so long since I met you but not once have I seen you react like that to me...” Kuroo smiled in the same way that Hana did.

Kenma wanted more than to stop him, to tell him he had always made him feel like that. That he didn’t need volleyball to make Kenma feel happy. That volleyball was trivial when it came to how much Tetsurou made him happy.

“But seeing you grow, it made me so happy Ken. To see you happy without me, to see you excited about something that I didn’t force you into. It made me so happy yet I kept wishing that was me that made you smile, that it was me that made you feel that way...”

You’ve always been, Kuro, Tetsu, it’s always been you.

“I was ready to surrender when you collapsed and said that volleyball was fun. When you thanked me for getting you into volleyball, I was happy yes, but mostly, I felt resigned. I resigned the fact that outside of being the annoying guy next door, I was nothing to you...”

How dare you say that?

“I hid my feelings for you for so long it’s become a second nature to me, but even I couldn’t help but feel hurt when you went after Chibi in the match with Kamomedai. I finally realized then that I had lost and it was Hinata that I lost to...”

You haven’t lost me Tetsu, I’m still here. Tetsurou took his hands out of his pockets and bowed, he held out both hands as it enclosed around something.

“I’m sorry to put all this unnecessary pressure on you Ken, I promised myself that. But please, at least accept this.” He said, his voice cracking by the end of it.

The wind blew and Kenma stood there shell-shocked. Tetsurou remained in his position until Kenma put his hand on top of the other’s.

Tetsurou slowly loosened his grip on whatever it was he was holding. It was a button. The second button of his uniform. The button closest to the heart. Kenma was speechless, Kuroo Tetsurou, his Kuro, his Tetsurou, had saved it for him. Only when he has taken the button did Tetsurou stood straight again.

Looking at him now, Kenma was reminded on how Tetsurou clutched his father’s pants in an attempt to hide from him.

Then Kenma hugged him, he hugged him until Tetsurou hugged back, until the other’s heartbeat returned to normal, until he can feel the other’s tears soaking his uniform, until his Tetsurou whispered a very soft I love you that was almost lost to the wind. Only then did he pull away, only then did he whisper his own I love you back while staring into the other’s eyes.

Tetsurou froze and stared at him, he then fell to his knees taking Kenma with him. He began weeping harder and holding Kenma closer and tighter to him. Finally calming down he spoke up.

“I thought you’d reject me.”

“Why would I? Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that?” Kenma said. Tetsurou hugged him tighter.

“I have one more thing to tell you...” he paused then pulled away leaving them kneeling in front of each other.

“I don’t know what I did in my past lives that the gods have warranted me such a reward as our co-existence, but I’ll gladly take it. To think that you reciprocated my feelings is one of the best think that I’ve heard. I want to give you something, to confess with I guess.” Tetsurou takes out a small black velvet box and Kenma feels his heart speed up.

“It’s not a proposal, I swear, I just wanted to give you something, it’s actually for the two of us.” Tetsurou opens the box and there inside were two rings, he takes out the smaller of the two and takes Kenma’s hand. Before the ring was slipped into his finger, he saw something engraved and lined with black on the inside.

“What’s engraved on it?” he asked.

“相棒 (aibou), to remind you that before I loved you, you were my friend, my partner, the one that helped me out of my shell.” Tetsurou told him as he slipped the ring on his ring finger.

“Tetsu.” said Kenma. Tetsurou was moving to put the ring on his own finger when he took it from him. He took the other’s left and and slipped the ring into the other’s finger. before letting go, Kenma pressed a kiss to the ring then the knuckle of his ring finger.

Kenma looks up to Tetsurou’s face only to find him staring at him in shock with a blush tinting his cheeks. Tetsurou held the other’s face in his hands and leaned in to touch their foreheads together.

“Can I kiss you?” Tetsurou whispered. Kenma nodded in reply.

They eased into the kiss, it wasn’t fluffy, it wasn’t heavy, it didn’t cause sparks to fly. For them, it felt familiar, it wasn’t puppy love, it wasn’t searching for the one, it didn’t feel like a teenage dream. It was real, it was them.

#randomizer #kuroo tetsurou #kozume kenma

0 notes

audriel · 6 years

Text

The fourth part of my KHR AU fic (1, 2, 3). Also posted in AO3. Initially I want to post this chapter for Kuroo’s birthday, but I struggle with it because I end up getting into Nekoma politics, and seriously, why can’t my muse make it easy for me?? It’s for the same reason that I cannot say that there’ll be less angst so... Warning: ANGST, lots of angst, brief description of anxiety attack, family politics, and Kenma kicking ass.

Last but not least, Happy late birthday, Kuroo!!

Blood loss and flame exhaustion.

That’s why Kuroo is not waking up even after receiving the best care under the ever watchful eyes of Yaku and Shibayama and in the safety of Nekoma compound.

Medically speaking, he’s on his way for full recovery. His vital signs are strong and his brain activity is normal. His blood work returns clean.

Yaku tried his best to explain Kuroo’s condition when he called for urgent family meeting. They might not have extensive medical knowledge like their resident physician and future certified medical doctor, but they knew enough from experience that three days were far too long to regain consciousness. Even after the most difficult surgeries and heavy sedation, there was always a brief moment of awakening before falling unconscious again. Kuroo didn’t.

He’s just... sleeping, or as close to it.

Yaku and Shibayama didn’t waste any time in performing all the tests they could think of, then turned the results over and sideways and asked for second opinion to no avail, until they went over the Nekoma medical records and stumbled upon the possibility of flame exhaustion. It is a rare condition for the Nekomas whose training heavily emphasizes control, so they very rarely exhaust their flames, regardless of the size of their reserves. They are also trained to recognize their limits, so they can train to push them without exhausting themselves. The records showed that the condition was and should be easily rectified by proper rest.

Tetsu... He drains himself dry, literally and metaphorically.

Kuroo shouldn’t be alive, he should have been dead the moment the bullet entered his body, with the speed it shattered and multiplied, especially when it hit so close to vital organs. There could only be one reason for his survival: he managed to use his Rain flame on the bullet... all the while fighting for his life without using his original flame. Yaku also suspected that Kuroo turned on his foresight throughout the fight. While it was not draining his flames--considering it was a natural ability of Sky flames, it gave him double vision which would also take concentration for him to separate the future possibilities and reality.

There’s nothing much we can do but wait.

The ensuing silence was unbearable. Kuroo could be terrifyingly cold and detached in his decision making that he never placed his life of higher importance than others’. It was a trait that his family both loved and hated in equal measure. Kuroo was not careless with his life, his family extracted that promise from him, but he would and could not promise to choose himself over the lives he could save. It felt like a paltry promise back then, but seeing how hard Kuroo fought to keep that promise, to survive...

Kenma cannot stay any longer in the room, leaving an illusion of himself in his place to keep the others from noticing. He stumbles out to the hallways, his breathing short and quick. He tries to slow his breathing, he tries to count up and down, he tries everything but nothing works. It has been so long since it was this bad. He has learned to recognize the signs and remove himself before it turns into a full-fledged attack, or Kuroo does it for him. But Kuroo is...

Kuroo... who is lying pale and lifeless on the infirmary bed surrounded by machines... whose flames are so faint and flickering... That Kuroo is not Kuroo. That Kuroo is not his Kuroo, his first and best friend, his brother, his leader. That is-that is not-

The distressing thought does no favor to his condition as his breathing gets worse. Kenma clutches his chest, trying vainly to slow his breathing as he flounders aimlessly. His head feels light, his vision narrow.

Hey, hey. Breathe with me. You’re okay. You’re okay. Suddenly Kenma is seeing young Kuroo crouched in front of him, eyes wide and concerned for a child he had just met. His young self had inched away in surprise at the strange child’s appearance who had managed to see past his Mist illusion.

He never dealt well with children around his age, more so with strangers, and yet despite his initial surprise and suspicion, he found himself drawn to the boy and the outstretched hand.

Kenma had always been able to sense flames, he could feel the slightest change in them and shape them into his liking. It came to him as easy as breathing. He cared not for the clamor and praise that came with it. He cared only for the respite and knowledge he was granted. He cared only for the ability to hide and to tell whom to trust. Kuroo burned with flames that he had never seen before, bright against the darker flames of Mist and warm against the cool indifference of Nekoma.

He finds himself reaching out... and trips face-first on something soft. In his surprise he breathes in, familiar scent and warmth assaulting his senses. He knows this scent, he knows this warmth. He grapples blindly, opening his palm and stretching his fingers to feel. He knows these sheets, these pillows and these blankets thrown haphazardly over large mattress. He doesn’t need to look around to know where he finds himself in.

Kuroo’s bedroom. Kuroo’s bed. Kenma’s and Nekoma’s safe haven.

Since their early acquaintance, Kuroo had made himself available for Kenma. He learned not to lock his doors and grew used to Kenma sneaking into his room and making himself comfortable. However as they ventured deeper and further to the family business, Kenma was becoming not the only one needing comfort and finding their way into Kuroo’s room. After witnessing and experiencing the worst the world could offer, it was not unusual for the family to spend the night together. When Kuroo finally claimed the boss’ quarters, he didn’t bother with proper bed and brought in the widest, thinnest, and most comfortable mattress, covered it with the softest sheets and thrown as many pillows and blankets over it.

Kenma can sense traces of himself and his family between the sheets. He can feel the lingering emotion and memories left among the pillows and blankets, the good and the bad. But most of all, he can feel him, suffusing the bed and the room with his warmth and kindness, with his patience and understanding, with his love and loyalty for his family. Something inside him flickers insistently, as though telling him to pay attention and so Kenma follows, tumbling down and falling deep into himself.

He finds his flame easily, burning indigo-bright. However, there’s another flame, smaller and weaker, but no less bright or warm. Kenma finds himself cradling the orange flame protectively to his chest. He cannot forget how it feels when the light and warmth that he doesn’t know have always been there suddenly are gone, leaving him cold and empty and blind in the dark. He cannot forget the agonizing moments when all of them could only stand still, refusing to believe what they all felt, refusing to mourn and grieve, with nothing they could do but hope and pray and beg that when the light and warmth finally returned they could barely believe it. He cannot forget how they cried, they yelled, and they cried some more. Kuroo was gone, but he was back. He was back.

The flame seems to burn brighter at this realization, sending pulsating warmth throughout his body. It feels familiar, it feels like...

Breathe, Kenma. Breathe. I am here. I am going nowhere.

Kenma finds himself matching his breathing with every pulse, and slowly, surely it evens out. For a while, Kenma lays there, just breathing, letting Kuroo’s presence surround him. However, his analytical mind cannot truly rest, slowly gathering together all the pieces from all his knowledge and observation, but two facts stand out the most in his mind: Kuroo is weak and vulnerable, and he is easy prey to those who want him dead.

Kuro is in danger.

Cat-like eyes snaps open in the dark, bright and sharp. Kenma might not be as dedicated and passionate as others, he has a tendency to shy away from duty and responsibility, but he has given his pledge and loyalty to Kuroo. He has chosen Kuroo. Kuroo and the family he made for himself are and will always be his top priority. If there’s anything that can make him take action, it’s Kuroo and their self-made family. Mind whirling with projections and calculations with such speed and accuracy, emotions set aside and discarded with such ease that makes him valued and considered as the next Nekoma boss, Kenma knows that he cannot act without knowing more information.

He traverses the dark room with ease and familiarity towards the wall on the side of the room. All the rooms in the family quarters are highly secured, because it uses a combination of biological and flame signature. However, one room takes it further by using flame pattern as its lock, which can only be opened by someone who knows the pattern and has the control needed to make the pattern with their flame. It’s a room that can only be opened by Kuroo, and Kenma as his right-hand man.

The lights turns on the moment he steps into the private study of the Nekoma boss. All sides of the room are crammed with information in various forms, from the traditional paper archives to modern digital archives, all but one side that is at the opposite of the grand wooden table with documents and stationary strewn over that has multiple screens mounted on it. In the middle there is interactive table that is not dissimilar with the one they have in the conference room, and its hologram is surprisingly active.

Kenma doesn’t think twice to approach the table and looks over the hovering images of boxes that are intertwined with each other with multiple lines so massive that it almost takes the whole room. Kenma picks one box at random and is wholly unprepared when a familiar voice rings out.

“Vision number 1283-”

The boxes are the detailed accounts of the future Kuroo has seen. Some futures appear only once, some appear frequently. Some change with time, some don’t. Some are clear, some are not. Kuroo managed to organize them into somewhat coherent manner, grouping together similar visions and then arranging them in a timeline. In every account there is a thorough analysis of what he has seen, deciphering what it means, whether it’s a constant or a changeable future, whether it’s part of action and consequence, or completely unrelated, whether the people and the event have any significance.

It is a time-consuming and meticulous work, not mentioning how large and complex it is. Kuroo is thinking more just than the future, he is thinking of the ripples on the pond, of the making of waves. Kenma is capable of seeing the future based on the present and making plans for it accordingly, but this... this is something else. Every person, every action is accounted for, so are their roles and their impact to the future. Kenma is sure that lines should be more convoluted than this but Kuroo has worked through them, removing the uncertain futures and directing them to a more favorable and controllable outcome so that what is left is a tangled mess that Kenma can still follow. It helps that Kuroo also recorded his musings so he can see where he’s coming from.

Kuroo plays out various scenarios, adjusting it accordingly with every change in reality and in foresight until he has narrowed it down into the most plausible scenarios and make plans of action based on them. He scraps the worst of the plans marking it down as unacceptable outcome and keeps the best of them by marking it down as acceptable outcome.

Acceptable outcome.

Kenma’s breathing hitches when he reads the plan. The plan that would have the least consequences, the least casualty: himself.

Acceptable outcome.

The world goes red and when he comes to, Kenma finds himself curled in the corner, the room completely dark but for the screens, flickering in and out, some are cracked. Things are scattered all over the room as though a whirlwind has come and upended everything inside. However, the interactive table somehow remains untouched with its tangled boxes hovering in the air, blocked by a figure reading through the page that he has left open. Kenma watches silently and knows the exact moment when Yaku finishes because he recognizes the unadulterated rage crossing his features.

“It’s my fault.” Kenma finds himself speaking out, catching the Sun guardian’s attention whose expression morphs into concern when he sees him. Yaku kneels down in front of him, careful to keep his distance.

“Why?“ It speaks how well Yaku understands Kenma that instead going for reassurance, he goes for clarification.

“I should have been the boss. I shouldn’t have run away. I shouldn’t have Kuroo shouldered the burden that is not his to bear.“ Once he starts, Kenma can’t seem to stop. “The council didn’t want him, Mori. They wanted Mist boss, even after they found out that he had Sky flame.”

Kenma sees understanding dawns in Yaku’s eyes, the pieces falling into place to make the complete puzzle of one Kuroo Tetsurou. Why Kuroo doesn’t think much of himself despite all of his achievements, why Kuroo insists of using the Mist aspect of his Sky flames, why Kuroo’s backup plans tend to put Kenma in the center, why Kuroo rarely sends Kenma out to the field unless necessary.

Yaku leans back on his heels as though he is struck, the look on his face is of great incredulity.

“A placeholder? All this time?” Yaku looks like he wants to cry and curse and yell, so does Kenma. He should have realized. He should have known better. Kuroo cares too much. He has too much heart. He always wants the best for others, but he rarely, if ever, considers himself. He is his very own and only blind spot.

It should be his duty and responsibility not only as his right hand but also his friend and confidant to make Kuroo see. That he has been the best leader Nekoma can ask for, more than Kenma can ever be.

Kenma presses hard the heels of his hand to his eyes. Kuroo needs time to rest and recover, time he might not have if Kenma wastes his time to wallow in guilt. Kenma stands up, taking Yaku by surprise.

“Yaku.“ Yaku snaps to attention at the change of address. “Call for an emergency meeting in an hour. Attendance is mandatory. Lateness, furthermore, absence, will not be tolerated.“

It takes a moment for the Sun guardian to respond, barely recognizing the younger man before him. Kenma doesn’t look away, doesn’t duck and hide. He meets his gaze straight on. Kenma is dead serious. He won’t accept any excuses. He will have them in the meeting one way or another.

This is Kenma the right-hand man of Nekoma.

Yaku smiles grimly as he stands up, nodding his head. “Consider it done.“

Kenma’s gaze follows Yaku until he’s out of sight, knowing with certainty that he will have all the inner circle along with council members and family representatives in the meeting. He walks towards the interactive table, briefly hesitating before opening up the backup plan Kuroo left behind in the event of his death. As he skims through the plan laid out before him, he understands why Kuroo made the request. He knew he was asking much from them to remain calm and neutral when all they want is to raze the bastards to the ground, because the best outcome hinges on it. Although Kenma has a feeling that Kuroo underestimate how much.

Before he knows it, an hour has passed. Kenma steps into the conference room with Yaku and Kai at his immediate right and left, the rest of the inner circle at their sides and back, giving him the support that he doesn’t realize he needs as he is greeted by the full ensemble of Nekoma’s council members and family representatives standing around the large conference table whose gaze immediately trained on them. Kenma knows Kuroo’s absence doesn’t escape their notice despite their best attempts to hide their alarm especially when he takes his place next to seat at the head of the table. Only the Nekoma boss has the power to call for emergency meeting. And yet, he is not here. Hush falls over the room, which doesn’t help his nerves. Kenma tries not to fidget as he grapples to say something.

“Please be seated.” Kai, bless ever reliable Kai, takes care the formalities so Kenma has less one thing to worry about. Everyone takes their seat, all but Kenma, who cannot find it in himself to sit in Kuroo’s place so he remains standing next to the empty seat.

Kenma breathes in and out, drawing strength from the flame inside him that belong to Kuroo.

For Kuroo.

“Three days ago, we met up with Karasuno to discuss the details of truce arrangement between both of the families. We were represented by Kuroo, Yaku and Kai, and Karasuno was represented by Sawamura, Sugawara and Azumane. It was supposed to be a highly classified meeting with with only few people in the know. And yet, we were attacked.” Kenma pauses as much to let the news sink in as to give himself time.

“We were outnumbered and overpowered. We managed to escape, but Kuroo... Kuroo was hit by Cloud fragmented bullet.” Shock ripples throughout the room. This is the gathering of the most brilliant minds in Nekoma, they are fully aware of the significance and the consequence of the action. Before they arrive to the wrong conclusion, Yaku is quick to step in.

“Kuroo is alive.” The Sun guardians stares them down, daring them to question his words. “However, he suffers from blood loss and flame exhaustion. We don’t know when he will regain consciousness.” Kenma watches everyone’s reaction carefully.

“This is concerning.” Nekomata speaks up. “This is not just simply another assassination attempt. Do you have any suspects?”

“We do, but we do not have sufficient evidence.” All Nekoma in the room catch on to the underlying meaning. Only few people outside the inner circle know about Kuroo’s foresight, but they all know the infamous Sky intuition and has seen it in action that they are willing to set aside their skepticism and follow the plans based on it so long they are ironclad. It will be so easy to give them names and have all Nekoma go after them. But that’s not what Kuroo wants, or what he needs.

"So what would you do?” Kenma cannot quite quell his trepidation when he hears that voice. It is the head of the council himself, Hyou Sakaki. Hyou is among the few of the older generation that remain in the council and representatives. He is a traditionalist, or the closest equivalent to it, in flexible and adaptable Nekoma, because however much Nekoma changes, their core values must and should not change. It is why he is elected as the head of the council, to be the foil of Nekomata, and later Kuroo who are the radicals of Nekoma. He is firm and unyielding as required by his position. He is Nekoma’s harshest critic and devil’s advocate.

Kenma doesn’t have pleasant memory of the man, despite having him as his main supporter for the succession because it meant the elder demanded more from him. Hyou wanted more traditionalist and less radical leader for Nekoma. While he can think out of the box, Kenma does favor the more proven and tested approach and is content with status quo, unlike Kuroo who is more willing to take risks especially with his intuition and challenge the status quo. Hyou doesn’t hide his disappointment when Kenma chose to give up his position as the successor and his disapproval whenever Kuroo showed his radical inclination. Regardless, he has sway over the family, and Kenma needs his support with his plan. He cannot show any weakness.

“We’re executing Plan D. Nekoma will go to ground.”

The declaration is met by surprise and disbelief. Of all orders Plan D is the last order Kenma is expected to give, because it is not a simple matter of staying quiet and under the radar. It is a complete withdrawal of Nekoma presence in the mafia world with the exception of the people and business to which their association to Nekoma are not known. It is an extreme measure that is meant for the direst situation.

“Do you know what you’re asking?” Hyou narrows his eyes at Kenma. “You are asking for all of our businesses to be closed down and stop operating. You are asking for a recall and reassignment of our people. You are asking for a major undertaking that is going to cost us the longer it is in motion.”

“Yes. I do know.” Kenma doesn’t back off, signaling his seriousness in the matter.

“Then why?” Naoi asks.

“They’ve gone this far to kill Kuroo. They won’t stop until he’s dead. The way he is now, Kuroo is an easy target. Any other course of action, any other plan, will put him at risk.”

“So you’re putting the safety of one person above the family?” Kuga Haruka--the second most influential person in the council--inquires, an elegant eyebrow raised.

Kenma can sense the rest of the family bristling around him, taking offense in the council member’s words, but it serves to center him instead. Finding his courage, Kenma straightens his spine and meets the gaze of every single person in the room.

“No. Because Kuroo is Nekoma, and Nekoma is Kuroo.”

The moment the words come out from his mouth, he realizes how true they are, and he is not the only one with how he stunned them speechless. It’s ironic, in his attempt to make Nekoma free and independent from inside and outside reliance, Kuroo becomes an irreplaceable figure himself. Nekoma will carry on without him, but it won’t be Nekoma anymore. Kuroo is not just Nekoma’s leader, he is their heart and soul. It is why the council was so against of having him as the successor to Nekomata, because Kuroo inspired steadfast love and devotion in the coldest and most rational of Nekoma. It was dangerous for Nekoma that placed mind above heart, rationality above intuition.

“Any objections for implementing Plan D?” Kuga asks the room at large.

And they are right. Because against all rational thought, none of them raise objections, not even Hyou himself. ithout a shred of doubt and hesitation, they all come to an agreement. The decision is unanimous.

“We shall proceed with Plan D. You have our full support.” Hyou concludes.

Kenma should feel relieved, but all he can feel is sadness.

Can’t you see how much you are loved, Kuro? Kenma clenches his hand, his gaze sharp and determined. Wake up, and we’ll show you.

#fanfic #fanfiction #khr au #nekoma #kuroo tetsurou #kozume kenma #yaku morisuke #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#katekyou hitman reborn

2 notes · View notes

sapphyrelily · 7 years

Text

Four - Haunted

I completely lost my original idea for this, I’m sorry this is rubbish.

Crumpled notes in a bin, cold, cutting remarks. Brushing off of concerns and turning away, silence stretched taut, unyielding.

It is painful, unexpected, but most of all, it makes him constantly nervous with the thought of what have I done?

(He doesn’t recall doing anything bad – he doesn’t know what he has done to create this rift between them when they were doing just fine before.)

(But maybe he does know. Maybe he does have an inkling of what has transpired to force them into this situation now.)

He’s tried to take it back a million times, but nothing seems to be working.

Semi presses his fingertips against his chest, above the painful thumping of his heart.

The pressure eases the pain a little, but he can’t hold the wound closed like this forever.

x.x.x.x.x

It’s never been this bad between them. Yet for a month so far, they’ve been walking on eggshells around each other – or well, Semi has – and it hasn’t been sitting well with him.

(He wakes up every day with a pool of dread in his stomach, relieved only when he escapes their room.)

(The panic comes back whenever he thinks of going back to their dorm at night, and even studying in their room has become an ordeal.)

(He counts himself lucky that his roommate likes to study in the library.)

His routine has never been so defined, never been this accurate in order to avoid Shirabu.

…ironic, because they can never truly escape each other when they share a room.

Yet the tension between them is clearly seen, evident in the meals that they no longer share with each other – one bento in the fridge instead of two – and in the times they spend out of the room.

(And in the minutes that they have to face each other in the mornings, when their schedules overlap, they exchange tight smiles or their eyes don’t meet.)

(Semi can’t remember when was the last time that he packed Shirabu’s bag because he was late.)

(That’s a lie, because he can, he can, how could he forget?)

Their arrangement is so bizarre, yet their friends seemed to have accepted it, not mentioning the other unless they really have to, allowing them to steer the conversation away once they are done.

Semi wonders how long it will take for him to go crazy.

He wonders if he’s already gone mad.

He has dinner so early these days, preparing a few days of food, taking the leftovers to school. His food is not touched by anyone else in the fridge, and it both relieves and confuses him.

He can see the containers that Shirabu uses, and steers clear of those as well. He’s not ready for another fight, not just yet.

He’s only properly distracted when he’s in class, and it’s the singular place that he throws his spare energy into. He sits in the front rows, recording the lectures, re-listening to them before he studies the material, and it’s not until Kenma points out how much he’s doing that he realises it may be a little over the top.

(But he doesn’t care, can’t care, because he’s drowning in panic and the need to protect himself, and he doesn’t know why.)

(He knows why, but he’s pretending that that reason doesn’t exist.)

He wonders if he should apologise again, even though he’s done nothing wrong, not really.

…he feels so guilty.

But still he says nothing, pressing on with his (slightly) destructive method of coping, throwing himself into studying, even when he can’t focus and all he wants to do is curl up and sleep his problems away.

x.x.x.x.x

He starts a text at least five times, erasing all of it before he can get far.

He doesn’t hear the lecturer’s voice in the recording sometimes because he’s too caught up in his worry, and studying one topic takes thrice as long.

The exams are ticking closer, and he’s worried about them, but he can’t bring himself to focus, no matter how hard he pinches himself, no matter how many times he tried to regulate his breathing and clear his mind.

(Maybe he is going crazy.)

(Why is he so bothered by it?)

(He did nothing wrong.)

(It’s irrational to be thinking this way, but he can’t seem to stop.)

(Why is he so bothered? Shirabu irritates him to no end on a normal day, and yet now, it feels like he’s being torn apart.)

(It doesn’t make sense.)

He tugs his legs up on the chair and wraps his arms around them, staring despondently at his notes.

He has an exam in five days. He can’t be worrying, not right now.

x.x.x.x.x

Everything he sees makes him a little more paranoid, a little more frantic. The notes he saved from before their tiff seem incriminating now, jokes and camaraderie like a slap to the face. Every time he opens the drawer to get something, he catches a glimpse of them, and it makes him bite on his lip nervously, a shot of fresh dread in his veins.

Once he can no longer take it, he gathers them up, stuffing them into an envelope, burying its plain face at the bottom of the drawer.

(He wants to burn them, to get them completely out of his life, but he can’t, he won’t.)

(He’s not that brave, and he knows he’ll regret it after.)

His roommate has no such inhibitions, he knows–

–the day after their fight, the dustbin down the hallway was stuffed full of Post-Its, every one of them bearing his handwriting.

He never knew there were that many.

He never thought he kept them all.

(He thought he was the only one, and now it’s too late.)

Sometimes, a memory will creep up on him, worn to fading, aged with time, and he sees them in a different light now. He sees what he has never seen before, and he hates that his vision is so clouded.

(He doesn’t know what’s the truth anymore, and it frightens him.)

(Are his current feelings messing up his old memories? Or were they always that way?)

(He doesn’t know, doesn’t know, doesn’t know, and all he wants is for this anxiety to end.)

(How long has it been now?)

He turns over to face the wall, exhaling shakily, squeezing his eyes shut tightly, refusing to let more emotions rise.

He should be above being this hormonal and frantic. He never knew he could feel this horrible. He never imagined wanting to die this much.

(Maybe he’s being a little dramatic, but it’s true.)

He buries his face in the pillow and tries not to scream, praying for sleep to come.

x.x.x.x.x

He almost doesn’t hear the knock at his door, and it takes him too long to get up and open it.

He’s surprised to find Kenma there.

The younger looks at him a little sourly before relenting, gently shouldering past him to flop on his bed. “How’s the studying?”

“Not good,” Semi admits, closing the door and curling back up in his chair. “I’ve been transcribing this one for five hours. I’m almost done though.”

“When was the last time you took a break?”

“An hour or two ago?” He can’t remember. “I’m so mad at this lecturer, how can she talk so much?”

Kenma shrugs, his eyes already glued to his device’s screen. “Do you want to come play volleyball later?”

Semi pulls an earbud out of his ear, painstakingly typing the latest words into his notes. “…no, not really.”

“You haven’t been in forever.”

“The exam’s on Monday and I have three lectures left to transcribe.” It’s hard to keep the desperation out of his voice, the barely-concealed hysteria from boiling over. “This one’s taken me so long, and I still have to revise everything again after, I don’t have time–”

“You’ll do fine, you’re always studying.”

“No, I’m not.” His fingernails dig into his palms, and the pain is too dull, not enough to wake him from the misery ready to engulf him. “I’m not doing enough, I don’t remember anything.”

Kenma glances up at him. “You’ve studied a lot,” he repeats. “You’ll do fine.”

Semi exhales heavily, fingers moving to his wrist, nails digging into the thinner skin. “I’m going to keep transcribing this.”

He turns back to his computer, and Kenma doesn’t say anything, not for a long while.

But the moment he finishes and saves that particular lecture, he hears him again. “Would you come and play after exams, then?”

Semi pauses, glances at him over his shoulder.

(Muted panic rises in his chest, a dull listlessness weighs down his arms.)

“Maybe,” he hedges.

(He knows better. He can’t play.)

(He hasn’t set a ball in forever, hasn’t served in longer, but he knows he can’t do it.)

(Volleyball no longer brings him joy.)

Kenma nods. “I’ll go, then. Do you want to come for dinner some time?”

“Maybe.” He’s worried now, about who will be present. He’s not ready to deal with people, not after his abstinence from social interaction. “Who would be there?”

“Futakuchi, maybe Kuro, maybe Koutarou.”

“Let me know, and if I’m done studying, I’ll come over.”

“’Kay.” Kenma waves a little as he lets himself out. Even he knows that it’s not worth staying, and the thought makes Semi smile bitterly.

He stretches and picks up his water bottle, shaking the sleep out of his head.

No one has time to sleep, especially with so much to do.

x.x.x.x.x

The exam is a lot harder than he thought he would be, and he’s glad that one of his acquaintances wanted to run over some questions beforehand, because those questions had appeared in the exam.

(He probably got them all wrong, but he doesn’t care.)

(He has about 36 hours to prepare for his next exam, and he wants to die already.)

His phone buzzes, and he opens it to find a message from Kenma.

[Kenma]: Dinner tonight?

[Eita]: Only if it’s short

[Eita]: Last exams soon, I need to prep

[Kenma]: dw, it’ll be fast

[Eita]: What time?

[Kenma]: 6.30?

[Eita]: k, I’ll come over

He wonders how much studying he can squeeze in before he leaves, though he’s sure he’ll spend it procrastinating instead.

(He does spend it procrastinating, but he feels so dead that he doesn’t care.)

He knocks on Kenma’s door a little before the stipulated time, unsurprised when Futakuchi answers it. The brunet grins at him and launches into a list of complaints about his own exam and how nerve-wrecking, anxiety-inducing and stressful it was, and how it shaved 10 years off my life.

Semi listens to him with half a smile, amused with his shenanigans and relieved at the distraction it brings.

His smile just about slides off his face when they reach the kitchen and he spots the other two people there, because he has not prepared for this and he’s not ready to deal with this yet.

Shirabu doesn’t even look at him, so he supposes that’s a good thing.

What’s not so good, he thinks, is how Futakuchi is trying very hard to get them to talk to each other.

“Shirabu, stop staring a hole into the table and be more social.”

“You’re being social enough for both of us,” the brunet replies, eyes never leaving his notes. “I don’t need to do anything.”

“You could help me with serving the food.”

“Yes, that I could.”

Futakuchi grumbles in the background, but doesn’t press the issue.

Semi feels like fainting.

He somehow makes it through dinner without making much conversation, other than replying when being spoken to, and complimenting Kenma’s cooking. It’s not as tense as he expected it to be, though he does notice that Shirabu is pointedly ignoring him.

(It’s not a surprise to him, and it is somewhat relieving to not have to make conversation, since he doesn’t know what to say.)

He’s the first to volunteer to wash up after the meal, and Kenma quietly joins him, leaving the bickering of the other two behind.

The sound of the water isn’t loud enough to hide their voices, so he can’t fake deafness when Kenma says, “You can’t avoid it forever.”

Semi scrubs at a stubborn stain, refusing to reply.

Kenma takes the clean dish from him, wiping it dry and setting it aside. “Eita.”

“Hmm?”

“Talk to Shirabu.”

“He doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“Have you tried?”

“Yeah.”

(Once or twice, with awkwardly phrased words, receiving curt answers, and being too cowed to try again.)

Kenma is quiet for a bit more, and nearly all the dishes are clean when he tries a second time. “How do you know he doesn’t want to talk to you?”

He can’t control the frantic, choked chuckle that slips out. “He’s been ignoring me for nearly two months.”

“But…”

“But nothing,” he whispers, because the water is now off, and the other two could eavesdrop if they wanted to. “If he doesn’t want to talk to me, there’s really nothing I can do about it. I’ll just move out next semester or something.”

“I could ask him what’s wrong for you.”

“No, it’s all right.” The panic is back, because he doesn’t want Kenma to know, doesn’t want anybody to know. It was a dumb reason to be fighting, yet he can’t seem to get over it. “I’ve done my best already. He’ll talk to me when he’s ready. It’s just how he is.”

Kenma looks slightly unconvinced, but doesn’t press him for more.

(Yet.)

(He knows he wants to know, wants to help, so he will badger him later, or send someone else to do it.)

(Sometimes, he wishes Kenma wasn’t such a good friend.)

He announces his departure as they re-join the others, and Futakuchi complains loudly when he says he needs to study.

“Come on, one day of not studying won’t kill you–”

“I have 35 chapters to revise and each will take me at least half an hour.” Semi doesn’t mention the huge amounts of procrastination that is sure to happen. “I definitely need to study.”

“I should go too.” Shirabu pushes away from the table, and their eyes lock, holding a second longer than they have in two months. “My second last exam is tomorrow, I need to finish revising.”

Futakuchi clicks his tongue at the both of them, but Semi catches the quick glance he shares with Kenma. He feels a little miffed that they are both working against him, but he can’t really blame them.

Their goodbyes are said too fast, and then they are trudging back to their dorm, the silence sharp, menacing.

They are almost there when the fragile soundlessness finally breaks, but it’s not as dramatic as he thought it would be.

“Do you want to stay up studying with me later?”

An olive branch, a proposition of a truce.

Semi nods. “Sure.”

Shirabu exhales lowly, slowing to a stop, and Semi turns to face him.

(His eyes are sharp, accusing, hazel boring into cocoa.)

“I know I’ve been even more unsociable lately, and I’m a little sorry about that.”

‘Even more unsociable’ doesn’t cut it, but okay.

“But I was still a little mad at you over that thing.”

“I’m sorry,” Semi tells him, hoping he sounds sincere. “I truly didn’t know.”

Shirabu rubs at his neck, looking at a point above his shoulder instead of at him. “Is it weird that I trust you when you say that?”

“Sort of.” Semi tries for a smile, though he thinks it falls short. “I didn’t think you trusted me at all.”

“After what happened? I’m surprised I still do.”

Semi exhales loudly, steeling himself. “Listen, I’m really sorry about what happened. If I could turn back time and undo it, I would. I had no idea, and I feel really guilty.”

Shirabu looks at him strangely. “Why would you feel guilty if you didn’t do it on purpose?”

“Because doing something like that by accident feels just as bad as if I had done it on purpose. I don’t want to do that to anyone, and I’m sorry that I did it to you.”

Shirabu purses his lips. “It’s alright, I guess. I’m mostly over it. I trust you when you said you didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Being dishonest isn’t in my morals, and I would never have done it on purpose. But still, sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.” Shirabu rubs at his face, looking suddenly tired. “I’m going to believe that you didn’t, and let’s move past this, alright? We have more exams to deal with.”

“Alright.” He doesn’t feel better about it at all, but it makes him feel lighter, now that he’s tried to explain his point of view. “Shall we?”

The brunet turns to lead the way, and he follows, the tiniest bit of the burden lifted from his heart.

…of course, one apology doesn’t make everything better in an instant.

They are the tiniest bit friendlier to each other now, though he still feels nervous, on tenterhooks around him.

(He doesn’t believe him completely when he says he’s not mad at him, because he’s been around Shirabu enough to know that he can hold a grudge forever.)

(Their combined study session is more of a self-study marathon with someone sitting beside them, poking each other awake and complaints about the number of chapters to go.)

(But it feels slightly less tense than the previous months, and he’ll take what he can get.)

x.x.x.x.x

It’s not until after his last exam that he feels like he can breathe again, even though he’s certain he flunked it.

There’s something about the end of exams, the end of months of stress, that leaves him drained and empty. He flops onto his bed and stares at the ceiling, tension sapping away, and wonders what he should do next.

The room door slams open and he twists his head to face it, only half-interested.

Shirabu looks surprised to see him. “I thought you’d be out celebrating the end of your exams.”

“With what friends?” Semi asks him drily. “I’ve become a recluse in the last few months.”

“I think Futakuchi’s done with his. I know Kenma’s definitely done.”

“Futakuchi’s in almost all your classes, he can’t be done.”

“Uh, well, yeah,” Shirabu looks suddenly sheepish, before his face resets to forced neutral. “Could I kick you out anyway?”

“That’s polite.” Semi sighs and swings his legs off the bed. “Yeah, I’ll go ask Kenma if he wants to game or something.”

“Thank you.”

“Is there a reason you want me out?” Semi tosses his jacket over his shoulder, picking up his bag with his free hand. His next words are stilting, awkward with his lack of surety as they are birthed. “If you’re having someone over, you could just say so.”

The brunet looks a little red, he thinks. “Well, yeah.”

Semi feels a small smile tilt his lips up; a sliver of apprehension lances him as he tries for a joke. “Should I not come back tonight at all?”

Shirabu’s sudden spluttering has him laughing, and it lifts his mood a lot more than he cares to admit. “Okay, okay, before 11?”

“How about 12?”

“Or I could just stay at Kenma’s…”

“Don’t imply things.”

“Don’t forget to actually study,” he teases, exhaling round his sudden lightness, edging around him to get out. “Good luck.”

He doesn’t hear his reply – if there is any – and walks towards the stairs with half a smile, daring to nurse the hope that their relationship – friendship? – can be salvaged.

x.x.x.x.x

He doesn’t know what set it off, but he feels like he’s staring down the barrel of a gun.

‘Metaphorically’.

The quiet patter of fingers on a keyboard, doubled and beating out of time. Two sets of hands play at the falsehood of a tune as they lie engrossed in their own worlds, discordant harmonies.

The companionable not-quiet, suddenly split open.

“Why did Shirabu kick you out?”

He never replied, he realises, in the true silence, with cat eyes appraising him over the top of the laptop.

“He didn’t,” he hedges. “I left of my own will.”

(They both know it’s more of a question than a statement.)

Kenma tilts his head at him. “He had someone over.”

“Why would you ask if you already know?”

The blond stares at him, unblinking. “I wanted to know if you knew who he’s seeing.”

Who he’s seeing.

Shirabu was seeing someone?

He shakes his head; it feels slow, like he’s submerged in treacle. “I don’t.”

I don’t know what he’s up to, anymore.

Kenma slouches, sinking back behind his screen. He takes that as a signal that the conversation is over, but his fingers feel out of place on the keys, and his focus is gone.

“Go back early.”

“That’s not polite,” he murmurs, more to his dying character than his friend. “If he’s having his partner over, he ought to have the privacy he wants.”

“It’s your room too.”

“I said I’d be back after 12.”

“It’s your room, too.”

“Kenma.”

“Eita.”

“Do you have a point in all this?”

“Maybe.”

A sudden weight on his back, and the powdery smell nearly makes him sneeze. “His point is, go back and find out who this fella is.”

“Why are you invested in this?” He asks Futakuchi, and feels the slight movement that could be a shrug.

“I’m curious.”

“He’s nosy.”

“Kenma, you don’t have the right to say that to me.”

“We’re nosy.”

“Say curious, it makes it less incriminating.”

“You mean neither of you know who’s this mysterious person he’s seeing?” Semi asks, amazed. “I thought he was only not on talking terms with me.”

He sees Kenma’s eyes lift, and almost feels the look the roommates are exchanging over his head.

“He wasn’t telling anyone.”

“We weren’t even sure there was a someone.”

“But now we know there is, so…”

“You two are incorrigible,” Semi tells them. “I’m not doing it.”

Kenma shrugs. “We’ll find out eventually.”

“Yeah, because he’s a rambling drunk.”

“Get him over when his exams are done.”

“Oh, you bet I will~”

Semi shakes his head at them and turns back to his game. It’s not his problem to deal with.

“So, why is it a partner and not a him or her?”

…but Futakuchi insists on it becoming his problem, it seems.

Semi almost tells him, before remembering that it isn’t common knowledge. “I’m not explaining this if he didn’t already tell you.”

“Aww, why not? It’s nothing big.”

He reaches up and gently knocks Futakuchi on the head. “I’m not outing anyone without their permission.”

(It’s over, it’s over, it’s in the past–)

(But it still haunts him, a mistake he can never be rid of.)

(Gold eyes appraise him over the edge of the laptop, a tiny question in them, and he can’t hold their gaze.)

The brunet is oddly silent before he slides off his back. “Okay. That’s fair.”

Semi raises his eyebrows after him, but Kenma only shrugs.

It seems that they can come to an agreement, sometimes.

(And though he pretends, he pretends, he can see the slight understanding forming in Kenma’s eyes, and he thinks he knows.)

(How he was privy to information that his roommate isn’t supposed to know, that no one else should know.)

(Semi can’t look at him anymore, for fear of finding an accusation there.)

x.x.x.x.x

He can’t stop thinking about it now that he’s alone – a partner? Who? What? How?? – and now he’s five minutes earlier than he thought he would be.

He sighs and unlocks the door loudly, hoping it is enough to announce his presence. “I’m home.”

There is no Welcome back, and he peeks around the door to see an empty bed, a desk full of scattered notes and an empty spot where his roommate’s shoes would usually be.

Well, then.

He shuts the door quietly and snaps a picture of the empty room, sending it to his nosy friends.

…hopefully they wouldn’t bother him about it.

His phone vibrates with twin messages, and he rolls his eyes before throwing it on to his bed.

Too much to hope for, it seems.

[Futakuchi]: I DEMAND TO KNOW WHO THE MYSTERIPIS PERSON IS N WJERE THEYVE GONE

[Kenma]: look 4 clues

[Semi]: come over and search yourself then

[Eita]: too much effort

(Not just too much effort, but too much commitment, too much pain.)

(They promised a truce, to keep out of the way, to keep past matters in the past.)

(But now it’s rising to the surface, a bloated corpse, and he can’t ignore its foul presence.)

Short breaths, unrestrained panting, grunts and high-pitched keening. The vicious press of lips, teeth and tongue fighting for control.

Both battling to come out on top, fighting a war that has already been lost.

This is their consolation prize.

He sighs and runs a hand over his face, pressing down on his eyes, relishing in the sharp sparks of colour.

He would not go there again. The past is the past.

(Except it isn’t, when he looks to the unmade bed that isn’t his, the sprawl of notes on the other side of the room.)

(The past is here, and nostalgia is a living being, breathing down his neck.)

Semi steps carefully towards the mess, picking up notes and straightening things, eyes not lingering on things he was not meant to see.

But once he is done, his fingers linger by the unmade bed, skin trailing over fabric, ridiculous hopes rising.

In a second of bad decisions, he sits. Pulls the pillow towards himself, burying his face in its plushy surface.

Camellia and laundry detergent.

Familiar, familiar.

Haunting.

He smiles wryly, a little sadly, and lowers the pillow, replacing it on the bed. Smooths out the indent of his face, straightening the covers.

He gathers his things for a shower, and does not look back.

(Cannot look back, refuses to look back.)

A memory of hands pressing together, palm to palm. Fingers intertwining, briefly.

The whisper of a promise.

“It means nothing.”

“Don’t remember this.”

…but he can’t forget, not the events that came before, or the ones after.

He can’t forget his only solace in those times, and how it shaped him differently.

(Perhaps he should, perhaps he should, but in truth, he’d never give up those memories.)

(It’s too late to turn back.)

#hq fanfic #semishira #semi eita #shirabu kenjirou #kozume kenma #futakuchi kenji #cygnus #my writing #haikyuu!!

10 notes · View notes