#kuroo tetsurou angst
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[seagirl]
⤷ kuroo tetsurou x f!reader; spider-man!au, mentions of violence, brief gore mention, exes to lovers arc, p in v smut, fingering, praise, a lot of descriptive language
⤷ summary: her underwater ecstasy, you could easily be the death of me, i swim through/ he comes to me, stuck on his knees, asking for better days
(w.c: 9.5k)
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He stands in your living room like an ill-timed memory.
Whole and vivid, he’s a flash of overdue colors and a crashing tide that overwhelms you. You blink a few times in hope that this may still be a dream; That his image will turn bleary and you’ll close your eyes enough times to realize they were never really open. That you’re in your bed waiting for the alarm to ring and the day to start as it always does.
It doesn’t happen.
The person ambling around the room is not a figment of sheepish delusions, or the product of late night fantasies, but him— a heart-wrenching familiarity in a room that has been home to him so many times before.
It’s been three months since a hue of red has disturbed your home.
He’s lit only by the warm lowlight of your lamps as the sun returns to its place of rest. The dark bruise on his face looks gaunt, and his cheekbones arch higher in the shadows. He’s hauntingly beautiful, always has been, and yet, this beauty is unfamiliar to you. He looks nothing like you remember.
Kuroo walks slowly in your living room, his trained steps light and deft on tile as he practically tiptoes around the room. As though a guard dog were sleeping in the corner of the room and one slight misstep would awaken the beast, disturb the peace and replace it with snarling roars and gnashing teeth. Force him out of the apartment entirely.
Maybe there is one—a silent protector lying in wait for the chance to jump out and bite; Chains wrapped tightly around its neck, made bloodied and raw from how tightly it’s leashed. It watches with focused eyes ready to ring the alarm at any second. It must sit largely in the corner, its presence so unmistakable that Kuroo must see it otherwise he wouldn’t be so diligent in trying to avoid the furniture. He circumvents the rug underneath your coffee table, hunches his shoulders and makes his body smaller as he sidesteps the loveseat to look quickly out the balcony sliding doors. He briefly pushes the curtains aside with one finger, surveying the darkening city with little more than a nod of acknowledgment before he returns his attention back to the room, looking around once more to see if anything has awoken by his doing.
He stills— amber eyes meet yours and he waits. Watching and waiting, waiting and watching. Stilling his movements as the predator watches its prey. Hoping for the acceptance in your space yet preparing for the barking.
It’s only when you break the gaze that he breathes. The dog rests its head on the floor.
The walls of your apartment have seen and felt Kuroo Tetsurou many times before; They have tasted his spilled blood, remain stained from it, and know of him in whole and scattered fragments—and yet he stands as a man seeing it for the first time. Perusing trinkets he knows too well, and focusing a little harder at the ones that have found their place during his absence. Acting as a stranger in the garden he helped grow.
Do you—can we do this someplace more… private?
N-no, I can’t do this—
Please? You can ask me anything, yell at me, whatever, I swear. I want to explain things, just… not here.
He had begged in the pharmacy.
All reservations you had leading up to this moment crumbled alongside the shopping basket laid abandoned by your feet—much like everything else belonging to him and you. He’s in your home and it feels like both the violation of a boundary that you have rigidly put up for safety and the final piece to a puzzle. You try not to choke around a lump in your throat.
You fight to ignore the whine of the dog and the ache that pulses your fingertips with the remembrance of him beneath your touch. A tired and worn body held tightly by lithe and lean muscles adorned with the kisses of blue and purple. Valleys and bumps, heartbeats pulsing beneath skin, it shouldn’t have changed that much in such a time— it couldn’t have. But, he looks so different in the passage of such a brief time.
Maybe his heart beats differently now, but you suppose yours does too. You hardly feel like the same person that held him close on a thundering night. Was it even you who held a warm hand under violet flowers? You wouldn’t know.
(It was you. There’s no way you could ever forget, no matter how hard you try.)
He’s standing by the coffee table when he reaches out to pick up an item on the glass surface; Some coasters lying stacked on top of each other, well loved and stained with drink. They’re recent additions to your home, hand painted and gifted by a friend from work after the success of one of your reports, but you suppose he must know that they’re new with the way he fixates.
He looks at them intently, fingers gently brushing over the acrylic surface. Tracing over the painted image with reverence, holding it tightly with a look in his eye that you can’t quite make out. But, he’s thinking— maybe too much as a minute, then two, passes. And still, he stares.
It is only after he speaks that you remember the coasters have wisteria painted on the surface.
“These are pretty.” He says, quietly.
It’s a decoy—a false coercion to ease. A knock on your door with a whisper behind its asking sound, a quiet plea to join him. You’ve already let him in, isn’t that enough? What more could he want? It’s bait.
You take it anyway. “Aoi made them.”
He nods, impressed. He holds the coaster up, waving the handiwork of your coworker gently in the air between his pointer and thumb. “Compliments to the chef.” He says, before setting it back down on the table. A gentleness in the action as though an actual flower were between his fingers, threatening to rupture at any sudden movement. “How is she?”
“Good.” You supply, simply.
He nods again. “And the job?”
“Good, too.” Even simpler.
Silence encumbers the space once more. Red, scabbed knuckles make a flash appearance that you stare at, swallow a little too thickly at. Words live and die on your tongue, the urge to break fickle silence seemingly impossible.
What could you ask him that you didn’t already know? What answers could you beg for that you weren’t already sure of? Spoken in the thick of his betrayal, truth settled on the guilt that hunches his shoulders. You don’t want to know about his life and the things he’s been up to because then it needs to be discussed.
But it ravages within you; the glaringly obvious, the bleeding heart of truth. The whining dog foams at the mouth as it barks for the taste of spilled ichor, the feel of the bone cracking between jagged teeth, and the savor of the split marrow. The dark, apoplectic fit of a yearning so deep that it tears the seams of you, screams to be held. Your want of knowing is equal if not more to the anger that has simmered within you for so long.
You could demand an apology. It would be the appropriate thing to do.
(It wouldn’t solve anything. Because he still left, and you still know why even if you lie to yourself and say that you don’t, and you both end up in the same place that you started. The hideous silence drowning you in the sanctity of your own home; Two familiar strangers trapped on a deflating raft wondering what there even was to say.)
“I read your articles.” He says, after a moment. Eyes flicker to yours, a slanted smile pulling at the corner of his lips. Genuity etched into the cracks. “The one about the wisteria tunnels was good. Really good.”
Hook pierces through you and tears through skin. Bait, bait, bait—
“Not too cheesy?” You offer quietly, eyes following red knuckles down to their place beside his body. If only to avoid his gaze.
“No.” He says earnestly. “The right amount of cheese. It was amazing. You’re amazing.”
Your body stills, rigid. You sigh and he knows. The barking commences.
“Kuroo—”
Lolling his head forward, shaking the mess of his black hair as he tries to roll the discomfort off of his body, he meets your gaze with a grimace of his own. “No, c’mon. Don’t—don’t do that. Please.” His lips are drawn in a tight line, some kind of debate playing over his features as he weighs the pros and cons of this—whatever this is. It’s infuriating, it’s misery, it puts you right back into the hole of devastation that you just finally started to see a way out of.
Eyes of deep sorrow meet your angry ones.
“That’s not my name,” Tetsurou breathes out in the empty space of your living room. He’s quiet with his words, convinced in them despite how gentle he says it. “Not with you.”
You shake your head bitterly, “You don’t get to do that anymore.”
His face furrows with a register of injury, but he doesn’t fight it. He does not mean to challenge you. He did not come with the intention to wage a war and emerge victorious— he didn’t really have much of an intentioned plan at all. Only knew that his mind froze at the sight of you and his heart lurched in a need long left unsatisfied.
The frigid cold of your stare meets the charged electric of the tense room, the atmosphere turning white and hot as it bolsters through the already fraught room, unspoken words feeding the collision of the two forces. Your breath draws more ragged, the floods rising to your neck; Kuroo stands still, certain that his next step forward will be on the wire to the ticking bomb in the room—the cause of the implosion.
(Kuroo thought he knew what the aftermath of an imploded life looked like— capitulating anger molding with deprived sleep left him a hollowed mess; Locked knee-deep in an endless vortex of must-do’s and must-be’s that resulted in nothing but a blank wall to stare at as fingers attempted to clean a mess that had no resolve. A fool tethering the same wounds, with the same tools, with the same outcome.
This is a different kind of hurt. Where home spits a poisonous rejection and burns through the still raw stitchings of patched skin. Comfort turned caustic, the remnants of good intentions showing him just how well they turned out to be. His name is no longer the reason for an amorous love, but instead the code to a blaring, bright red warning.
Bloodied and broken fingers inch forward, doing as they always do and try to fix. Like a fool.)
“Okay.” He nods in acquiescence, placating but still firm. Determined, even in the threat of your gaze that tears him apart, to mend this. He hasn’t been imagining this day for three months now to fuck it up at the slightest sense of your anger. No, he’s handled worse than this. He would handle much worse if it guaranteed him this moment, this chance. Straightening his shoulders and standing tall before you, he readies himself for impact. Bracing himself for the explosion.
He takes the step forward.
“How do you want to do this?” He says, staring a kind of serious in you that is unsettling. As though something snapped into place within the brief second, a resolve solidified. This isn’t the Tetsurou you once knew, the one who made a fool of himself in his youth; This is the one you had the unpleasant encounter with—where lightning cast a sharp silhouette around with blood pouring from gaping wounds and fear filled the room with an impenetrable stink.
That Tetsurou stands before you. Your bitterness settles like a pill stuck in your throat. “Hm, I don’t know. Maybe you should start with an apology?”
“An apology won’t fix this.” He says succinctly, a knowing within him that he has deemed unnecessary to expand on, and it infuriates you.
“Well then maybe you should have thought of that before you left.” Rage stirs your appetite. Teeth growing, snarl rising, bite less of an inhibition and much more of a possibility as you thrash against rising waters. The taste of the marrow is thick on your tongue, its source right in sight. “No phone calls, no texts, nothing. You threw me away—”
He seems affronted, as though that insinuation were an insulting one, but he has no right. It only drives your anger further the more he seems to hunker down. “I was trying to protect you.”
“You don’t protect someone by leaving them in the dark about something. By abandoning them.”
“I don’t expect you to forgive me, but you need to understand—”
“No, you need to understand what you did. The last time I saw you I thought you were going to die.”
It’s the opening of the Pandora’s Box; Hurt and all of its tendrils that you tried to shove so deep within the confines of hiding crawl up your throat, wrapping around vocal chords and choking. They weave the familiar narrative and it is as vivid as you remember it to be. The pains and aches of an abandonment that dug into the depths of your soul, the heartbreak that comes when your great love has removed himself from it entirely. Rage tainting all that you have known, a rage that you were just starting to overcome. It’s hard to tap into the person you were earlier, the one that sat at lunch smiling and light-hearted and somewhat healed from the atrocities of lost love.
Your guard has risen before the man you’ve entrusted the entirety of yourself to, its fortified walls shaking with each knock of hurt he brings to your door. “And then you left. You swore Kenma to secrecy. He wouldn’t tell me more than if you were alive or not. You could’ve given me something, anything. But you decided to act as if I didn’t exist—how could you do that to me?”
His jaw clenches, the skin above pulsing with the movement. Darkness seems to swirl around him as he says, “I told you. I put you in danger.” But you hardly notice; Hardly care to. You plow forward.
“And I told you I was safer with you. You had no right to make a choice for me, especially not one that I didn’t want. And what’s worse is that you didn’t even have to think twice about leaving me behind.”
Kuroo takes another step forward, truly insulted as he crosses the expanse of your living room in quick steps— the speed in his movements still an alarming sight even after all of this time. He’s an arm’s distance away suddenly, intensity in his stare as he defends against your jabbing strikes, defense webbed against your venom.
“That’s not even remotely true. It hurt me to let you go, more than you could ever know.”
“Did it? More than not knowing anything? You had no problem staying away.”
“I did it to save your life.” He says, firmness beneath his in the tone, his own ire rising to match yours and you roll your eyes.
“From someone who was already in police custody. Don’t say it like I should be grateful to you for it. Maybe if you involved me in the first place, maybe if I knew a little more than just you bleeding out on my couch, I’d have a little bit more sympathy for you right now.”
The explosion happens, then— the bomb sets off. Only, it was you who stepped on the wire.
Series of images that only he knows intimately flash through his mind in quick succession—hideouts, trails of blood, dirty men with dirty intentions that filled Tetsurou with a vengeance that broke Hell and lit every fiber of his being aflame. It bursts from him at that moment.
“He knew where you lived. He knew your schedule, he had a whole fucking hideout with photos of you on the walls! I was compromised and because of that, you were a target. So yeah, I made a choice for you. I cut all ties and made it clear that you and I were done so that I could make sure he and anyone else he was working with were off of your scent. So that I could protect you.”
His lived nightmare—the one he worked so hard to shield you from for the past three months— spills from his lips in a frenzied shout. There is no hesitation to his tone, conviction bleeds through and you are taken aback. He is pulled taut, a rope fraying at the edges, unraveling right before your eyes.
Tetsurou continues, “I didn’t know who was involved or how long I had so I— I panicked. I should have told you, I know that. I’ve spent the past three months knowing I did it wrong but, I’m outside your window most nights just so I can make sure that you’re safe. And you are, so far as I can tell. So that means I did what I was supposed to do and I did a good fucking job at it.”
You stare at him, wide eyed and silent. It’s all you can think to do.
It was always a possibility. One you ran through in your mind, held quietly when Kuroo’s own worries about his other job came to the forefront. Someone knowing you, knowing about your ties to him and using that against him; But a year had passed with him as Spider-Man and for all of its ups and downs, Kuroo was careful. Nothing ever came of it.
But, a hideout? Enemies, plural, knowing who you were and seeking you out?
Even if doubt wanted to wiggle within the expanse of your mind at the admission, disbelief and all of its synonymous cousins working overtime to protect you from an unfathomable reality, it’s quickly squashed at the sight of Tetsurou’s haunted eyes. Caged fear and all of its tattered belongings veiled within his gaze. And while this transgression of his is large and looming, you believe it’s cause entirely; Because Kuroo may have broken your heart, but he’s never lied to you before. He couldn’t even think to lie to you about the symptoms of a spider bite, he certainly wouldn’t lie to you now about this.
You believe him, unquestioningly. And it clicks then, like a light switch flicking, that as you have been wallowing in the ache of your loneliness, he has been navigating a world that has threatened him and you all on his own. That your life was in more danger than he had initially let on when he stumbled into your apartment, worried and frantic for your safety and he knew nothing more in his injured state other than the fact that he had to fix it.
His stupid senses of righteousness, his assumed burden to protect; Taking on the world at the tender age of twenty-three. Atlas, with his dark eyes and bruised skin, believes the threat of your safety to be his sin. One that he has exiled himself for, that has him stepping tentatively closer to you, until he’s right in front of you. And he doesn’t want to tell you these things that have kept him up at night, he hardly wanted to tell them to himself, but he knows if there is any way for him to win this—to make you see— then he’ll have to concede something.
“I’m not— I’m smart but I’m not—I’m not good at this stuff. Okay? I don't know how to be him and also be yours. But, he knew your name.” Tetsurou’s voice cracks with desperation. “And yeah, I could’ve done a hundred things differently, but it wouldn’t have mattered because of how scared I was. I was willing to do anything to make sure you were safe.”
The first piece to your cracked walls falls.
His fingertips lift up, padded fingers tracing your jaw, and it’s exactly as you remember. Heavy and sweet, the familiar touch satiating a dormant urge that has awoken only at his doing. You lean into it without realizing, the feel of his comfort sticking to you like caramel. The sticky sugar of him pulls in closer no matter how hard your mind tries to chew your way out of it. You're stuck in the tar, mouth closed, voice silent, heart fluttering.
His thumb sweeps across your cheek, his hand fitting against your skin like it never left. Warmth seeping in, blending the eternally blurred lines. A gentle force has your chin pulling upward, amber eyes meeting yours, like they always do. Finding you in a crowd of hundreds just as they do in the darkness of your living room. Meeting your gaze with little effort and boring into you, giving you ample opportunity to witness the throes of the brewing hurricane in his irises.
Its hurtling towards you, the arms of its winds already wrapping around your wrists, your neck, your lungs. You’re inhaling its scent—musky and warm, the fading smell of a well-loved aftershave and damned latex. Tetsurou stares at you, and you stare at him, and it’s a fool’s game to think you’re anywhere but knee-deep in the eye of the storm.
“I will do anything to keep you safe.” He says, determination and all of its implications weigh on you.
His stare trails. Skirts across the features of your face as though he’s studying. It’s a quick flicker down to your lips and your heart leaps emphatically. He hears it, he must, because he’s then looking back to you and stops there. Parks his wandering gaze right into you and waits. He’s unconstrained, open, pleading for you to look and see; Find the answer in the ways that only you can find within him.
“I couldn’t lose you.” Tetsurou brushes the underside of your lip with his thumb. His voice is low, low enough to rumble through his chest and into you. “I can’t lose you.”
You knew the moment he left why he did. Remember his words like a repeating lullabye as you run over them in your mind before bed, the desperation in his tone withering away the stone walls of your heart, the begging crumblings of letting him back in. Forgiving him is excusing the pain and the anger that tore through you, that left you cracked open and raw. You try to insist that within you, hammer that truth in with rusty nails in hopes that it will stick.
But you're drowning in the deep waters of anguish that he has flooded your apartment with, fighting life and limb against the beatings of caged desire that begs to reach out to him. Maybe, if you close your eyes hard enough you can shield yourself from the certainty of his gaze that the whimsies of romance try to convince you of and you can stand firm. You can open them and realize that this is all a dream that you had hoped it was at the beginning of this whole thing.
Maybe you could believe in that harrowed truth enough to have it buoy you to safety. A life preserver that whisks you away from the familiar touch of his hands that meld into your skin and drag you into the depths of his waters.
You can remember his wrongs and try to do right by the girl that sat hurt and alone for three months. (Not alone, never alone. He was there; Watching, waiting. Ensuring your safety from a distance, checking through a widow.
Loving you from afar in the only way that he could.)
“I wish you trusted me.” You whisper, and it’s not an invitation for forgiveness, but he shifts closer anyway. Lowlights of the room dance across his features, the shadows suiting him as they blend him half into the light and half into the darkness. What isn’t spoken is the hearty truth that lingers in the air. I wish I trusted you now.
Suddenly, his nose bumps into yours. Lips brush against yours and they part on instinct, puzzle pieces inching to find their unity once more. Mouths dancing, breaths mingling, one push and it would be the reunion of a past that is held up only by the misery of yearning.
You want it, know deep within the parts that belong to him that he does too. He’s chasing it, looking for what once was his. His alter-ego isn’t one of the past, not one that he intends to give up anytime soon. Kuroo has never been a quitter, and you doubt as he pushes past blurring lines and unspoken boundaries that this is the indication that he’s willing to turn over a new leaf.
He still wants both, still wants to be in the light and the dark, wants the normalcy of a life with you with the suit of red and blue. (And maybe, just maybe, a compromise could be struck; Balance could be found, with the growing pains. He could do both, don the mask and make time for you. You could enjoy the moments with him without pouring so much of yourself into him, the tiny voice of your heart whispers in your ear.
Maybe.)
“You should go.” You say, lips brushing his as your mouth moves to draw the line in the sand. The shattered pieces that were begging to finally be glued together drop to the floor.
It’s hard to convince yourself that this is what you want, especially when he feels like sweet release in your hands, your mind finally feeling quiet in the warmth of his touch. It’s a betrayal against the deepest parts of your romantic self to deny this homecoming, but you do it anyway. Pulling away from his touch just slightly to stay firm.
It’s a minute before he finally nods. It’s absent of surety, instinctual almost, as he collects himself amidst the swarming tides of his thoughts. He parts, feet taking slow and heavy steps away from you. His thumb rubs across scabbed knuckles, hardly minding the pangs of pain that accompany as he picks and prods at his peeling skin. The jabs of sharp hurt macabrely steadying him as he wades through the sea of his own longing— intently hoping to push it to the side for this, for you.
“Yeah. Okay.” He says quietly, like he too has forgotten himself and is trying to piece himself together once more.
His departure is slow moving, the disentangling of an entwined tar removing itself from the tether, an even harder fest the second time around— but he manages. Gathering himself, he steps towards your apartment door, opening it before halting and sparing one more glance towards you. Searching for something, trying to find it in your apartment, in you.
But you steel yourself, hold firm on this. Forgiveness is not given, it is earned—even for him.
“I want—” He begins before grimacing and shaking his head, “I would like to explain more. If you want. I know we’re not— I have to put the work in to get you to trust me again, and I want to do it.”
He shuffles in place, door adjusting with his movement, “Can I take you out for dinner? Try to do this the right way?”
And you should say no, should slam the door in his face for coming into your home, touching your things, yelling at you and crossing boundaries all within the same night. But even as your anger has risen at the confrontation of the past, at the poor attempts of mending, he has equally placated them. And you hate him for it, hate the fact that even though you haven’t seen him for three months, you’re still just as in tune with him as you were when he left.
This is a fine line between healing and dangerous territory— it could be the closure you need, the step forward to clarity. Or a warning. You fold your arms into yourself, deciding on the boundary at that moment, as shaky as it may be within your mind.
This cannot happen again; He cannot come into your home, touching you, breathing life into you when you have been wasted for so long. Pieces of the past cannot be picked up after they have laid abandoned for so long. For as long as you continue to look at Kuroo and see the wreckage that lies between you, things cannot be as they once were. Where you were a silly girl in head over heels for a stupid boy, reactionary to the ebbs and flows of a relationship that hadn’t known what steady ground was since the bite of the spider. It wasn’t a way to live, it wasn’t the way to be with someone.
Things need to be rewritten, dismantled and put back together. Etched anew. You are not who you once were three months ago, you look at him with too much distrust to be. He is not who he once was, his eyes are too sad to be.
“I won’t promise you that I’ll trust you again.” You tell him and a deep breath racks his shoulders, “But I want to hear you out. As a friend.”
Tetsurou stares for a moment, understanding the words written between the lines of your statement. The line drawn in the sand. He weighs the options for a moment before eventually nodding, seemingly satisfied with that answer. Better to have you than not at all. “Yeah, that’s… that’s good. I’ll text you, we can figure out the details later.”
“As friends.” You repeat, unsure if it was meant to be a convincing reminder to him or yourself.
“As friends.” He confirms. He gives you one last long look before he leaves your home. The water that choked you all evening receding with his exit.
You had hoped in the crevices and cruxes of your mind as your entire world was tilted on its axis the moment that Tetsurou made his appearance, that you would be able to find your footing once he left. That your breath would come back to you in a way that it was pointedly thinned from your lungs— that peace could be found in the same way that you were just starting to become acquainted with it without your ex. This does not happen; As the apartment is submerged in silence, leaving only you in its embrace, you find that air doesn’t come back to you. If anything, you choke even more. Stand achingly still as your apartment becomes as it once was and settles emptily.
Even with the fire that he dredged forth, even the hurt that beat against the cages of your chest, even as you found the urge to yell and yell and never stop yelling at him—you can’t deny the truth that remains and rattles in the hollows of your mind.
You missed him. The way he spoke, how he filled your room, how his eyes found yours and stared an eternity into them. And maybe that’s the problem with first loves— the ghosts of them will always haunt the space of your heart, phantoms entwining around arteries and veins, infusing in your blood. But this is more than a rose-tinged ardor and a childish squabble; This is life and death, his and your own. And it cannot be regarded as anything but that, even if you want nothing more than to run out into the hallway and call after him.
You put that desire down, leaving it in the cage with all the other locked up hurts you hold of he and you, deciding it is a problem for another day. You force yourself to shift gear, turning to your bathroom in need of a shower to wash away all of the strain of the day, all of its exhaustion—
A knock resounds throughout the apartment. A beat passes, then two as its echo rings throughout the space.
You stare at it, wondering for a moment if it is your brain playing with you. If somehow you hadn’t locked that desire up tight enough and it was now at your door, toying with your hearing. A shadow filters underneath the door, a shuffling of feet.
You know what’s on the other side without having to look.
There’s a million reasons not to do something, pages and pages of entries in your castaway diary that depict the woes of your heart in the time that Kuroo had abandoned it—all of it’s waxing poetry serving as a poignant explanation as to why you should not open the door. But something tells you to open it, something smaller and sanguine—plumes of billowing hope that curdle in your stomach and float through you like an intoxicating smoke. Filling your lungs on the inhale, decadent exhaust that burns the nicotine, spreading the burning high.
Your hand is on the knob before you have much of a realization.
And he’s there.
Eyes inked with a steady fortitude, filled with an intensity saved for moments where you imagine the other guy comes to play, saved for the moments when he’s hellbent on getting you to see him. He stands at your doorway, lit under the harshness of the fluorescent hallway lights, chest rising and falling with the heaviness of his breaths.
And it calls to you—that craving for the marrow, the barking that rings throughout your ears. It isn’t for the truth of words—it’s for him.
Really, he should be a better person and commit to the drive that led him to leave for three months, his need to keep you safe; Commit to the boundary that you have placed, the one that says I’m not ready to forgive you, the one that dresses you in caution tape and blinks in flashing red lights to avoid lest he do as he’s done before and try to fix things like a fool.
(A fool in love.)
But it tugs at him, pulls him to his knees when you meet him with your eyes wide and eyebrows furrowed. Confusion, curiosity, and something pouring into you. He’s neck deep in the throes of longing just at the sight of you and that third element, that fickle something that he knows better than anyone else. He should be a better person and walk away, do as you have asked and respect boundaries. But then you say his name, a whisper on your tongue, like how you used to speak to him. And he realizes that he’s already done his time in being a better person. Three months of denying all he has wanted for the sake of protection.
He’ll indulge in selfishness, just this once.
Greedy with his intentions, desperate for you; Ready to drown.
His hand is on the wood veneered door pushing it wider. His heart races in his chest as he realizes you put up no resistance in his doing so. A decision is made, absent of logic, truant of any remorse.
“We will never be just friends.” He says, voice laden and heavy with that third thing that sparks a glint in your own eyes—want.
His lips are pressing to yours, rushing forward and slamming the door closed behind him in quick succession. A muffled whimper escapes your lips as you fall into old habit. The rough parting of plushness for a ravenous taste that stokes the embers of a desire hardly contained. And suddenly, his waters are rising around your ankles again, his own feet dragging against the force of its push and pull. Salty spray splattering against him, his clothes heavy with the damp and he’s sinking.
(Even if you hate him, even if you push him away, at least you’re there—alive.
He should fight and climb his way to survival, it’s the one thing he’s good at after all. But he doesn’t. This could easily be his death, headstone laid at your feet, the key to his coffin in your palm.
There is no part of him that hasn’t been tethered to you in the formations of love and remained resilient in the absence of you; He is and has been yours, entirely. And that was precisely the issue; For where he ended, you began. There was no better danger to him than you. And now, there is no greater danger to you than him.
The taste of you is just as he remembered.)
Kuroo kisses as if this is how he could explain things.
He pours all of his ferocity into the action, eagerly laps up the savory of the needing touches and the sweetness of bared soul, as it pours out and in. Joined into one, lines blurred, delineation a fool’s game. When wrapped in the throes of your embrace, the parting of your lips is all too addicting, and submission isn’t a threat but a promise of more.
He digs his teeth into the plump and pulls, losing the fight with his feelings when a whimper erupts from your mouth and even more lost when you push into him with equal fervor. Your hands are rushing up to his hair and tugging on the strands, pulling him closer into you if that were even possible. His hands find their place on your waist, finding solace when you fit against him in the exact way that he remembers. Joy coursing through the rushing blood when his fingers dig into plush skin, craving hardly satiated but instead, amplified.
It’s desperate, and mean, and hard, and consuming and it's the greatest thing he’s ever had. Flurried limbs pulling each other together, gripping on skin in calloused moans and tugging movements. Your tongues taste one another, licking into the open in wet fervor. A whine is exhaled when your mouths pull apart that is quickly replaced with bliss when his teeth sink into your neck, lapping over your tender pulse point in the way he knows your body responds best. Your nails dig into his biceps, the fabric of his shirt tugging upward.
This dance is familiar and that makes it that much more exciting, like an inactive muscle being stretched out. He’s pushing you both further into the room, fingertips trailing at your waistband, silently asking as he sucks another mark into your neck. You beat him to it, pulling pants and underwear down in one quick movement, your heart pumping erratically as you fall on the couch, onto the buoy keeping you above the rising tide. He’s moving in tandem, your own shirt falling to your floor in abandon.
Revealed to you is a pantheon of scars that decorate the lean and lithe muscle of his chest as you settle on the sofa. Some old, faded to the color of his skin, others new, pink and raw. Your fingers are drawn to them, running over the numerous marks that bisected skin, that make constellations against his ribcages.
Atlas stares down at you, deep breaths racking his chest. “What happened to you?” You ask quietly, fingers finding a particularly jagged mark that runs from the right side of his ribcage down to his belly button. Two pale pink scars lining either side of its division— claws. His stomach tenses beneath your touch.
The worry seen in your eyes ignites a heated passion in him, the held suppression that you still care driving him forward once more.
“Later. We can talk about it later.” Invigorated, he leans back down, capturing your lips in another kiss and running his tongue on the curl of them. His hands move on their own accord, long fingers gripping beneath your knees and hiking your legs upward, exposing the wet and slickened part of your sex to the eager grind of his hard length poking through his jeans. Denim meets your sex and the rough fabric pulls a broken moan from your occupied lips as it grinds against the wet of your folds. Rubbing coarsely into your sensitive bud. His fingers find their place there soon after, splitting your seam and gathering enough wetness at your entrance to roll it over your clit, swirling his finger around the pearl in the way he knows you like it best.
There comes great advantage to being with a man for as long as you were with Kuroo. His expertise ignites the beginning rapture with a speed unlike any other. Fingers playing with your sex in ways that you’ve never been able to replicate on your own, driving your want higher, tightening the coil that burns with delectable heat in your stomach as his tongue licks into your mouth. Your breaths are heavy, lips disconnecting with him as you find yourself distracted in pleasure, a trail of spit stretching between you.
It’s when he slips a long skilled finger inside of you that you throw your head back. He makes quick work, attaching with eagerness to the column of your throat, suckling marks into the juncture of your jaw and neck. He knows where the spot lies, knows how to have your mind fogging up and your mouth opening in stupor.
And you hate it; You hate that he knows what to do and how to do it to get you so malleable underneath him. You’re putty in his hands and it's the essence of everything that you have been warning yourself of. He could ask you anything, tell you anything, and in the embrace that has been yearned for, it wouldn’t take much for you to do whatever it is that he asked.
You would do more to stop this were you not locked in the throes of pleasure—but he feeds the beaten dog so well.
A second finger enters you and you moan.
“That’s it. I wanna hear it, baby.” The huskiness of his voice pants a hot breath against the side of your neck. “Please let me hear it.”
“Tetsurou—” You manage to bite out just as his fingers curl upward, stroking against the spongy spot of your front wall. A dull fuzzy pressure begins to fill your body.
“You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” He asks, his thumb working in tandem with his two pumping fingers to rub hard circles against your clit. “You gonna let me taste it?”
His nose presses into your cheek, lips placing a loving kiss against the surface as you nod, emphatically. He breathes, enamored with the feel of your walls clenching around his fingers, drunk off of the faint smell of your perfume, and the salt of your skin. He knows an orgasm is hardly the way to fixing things, but he’ll be damned if he won’t try. Rising on his unoccupied arm, he hovers himself above you, studying the contortion of your face. Your face, gorgeous as it scrunches in response to his ministrations; Beyond beautiful in all of its existence, when you're smiling, skin pushing on the apples of your cheek; In sleep, resting and relaxed; In your fury, furrowed and gritted as you yell at him, give him your poison and vexation, deliver an acrimony that he can only kneel before— entrenched in all of your holy.
Your eyes remain closed, sealed in bliss as he strums the familiar crescendo and as satisfying as it is to see, he wants more. Wants to see you.
He says your name in reverence, “Look at me.”
Blown pupils meet his own and it's the final stretch. Heart escalating, fingers clenching, your thighs closing around his forearm to stave off the impending blow and all of its glory. He doesn’t stop, instead he keeps your gaze, dropping his mouth to your chest and sucking a nipple into it. Laving over the sensitive skin, setting nerves tender as he maintains his steady pace with his fingers.
And it comes; The sharp inhale of breath, the tumbling of his name, the peak of the long awaited happiness. Your fingers find home in gripping his arms, the one beside your head and the other between your thighs, still stroking an even stride through the pulsing of your gummy walls and the gush of wetness from you.
It's convulsing and dizzying, you almost don’t believe that it's happening as euphoria washes over you. Tetsurou hovers over you, sliding his fingers from you and immediately putting them in his mouth, sucking the taste of you off of the digits.
Were you not already pulsing with the aftershocks of an orgasm, the sight of his eagerness would have pushed you over the ledge. It's pathetic really how Kuroo does to you what no other person can. Set you aflame with the paradoxical sisters of lust and anger. The emotions of Mars, emboldened in intensity by his doing, are further impassioned as he stands on his knees, stare blown wide as he pushes your thighs apart once more. His gaze transfixed on the mess he’s made of your sex, the length of his cock twitching in arousal the longer that he looks.
“There she is,” he says to himself, adjusting your knees further up until they’re hitting your chest. His hands grab underneath you, pulling your exposed pussy closer to him. He fists himself, a pearly bead of precum smearing over the red and leaking tip, pushing it forward so that the head of his cock bumps into the sensitive nub of you with each swipe against his length. Shocking you into the desire, building the anticipation once more. “This perfect pussy.”
He’s lost, stuck in the reverie as he stares at you and it eats you alive. To be so desired, so wanted by a man you were convinced hadn’t wanted you anymore.
“Tetsu,” Your voice is ragged and broken, propriety abandoned in the glow of the coital haze. You breathe and he seems reminded of where he is, a glaze in his own eyes. Kuroo leans down after a moment, reminding himself of what he’s meant to do. His lips find yours in a gentle peck as he breathes in your exhale.
“Tell me. Please.” He swirls the head of his cock at your entrance, gathering your slick on him but waiting. “Tell me what you want. Tell me you want this.”
It feels like you're floating in the waters, no longer drowning or at risk of sinking, but instead light and loose on its surface. No longer made an enemy of its tides but the lover, kissed with each lap of its waves. If you close your eyes you can hear the water crashing against the shore. The waves that crumble the high rise of your stone walls, their wreckage falling into the sea. You can feel that it's Kuroo’s hands underneath you keeping you afloat, holding you still. Can pretend that everything is right once more.
Your eyes shut in hope, the promise of tomorrow within reach. The words are spoken before you have any sense otherwise. Sober wants and the repressed truth voiced in a split second.
“I want it so bad. I want you. Please, please—”
It’s all he needs, all he wants. Not the sex, forget the sex, but you—wanting him, asking for him. A revival of the shredded beating threads of a tender heart. He pushes into you, the hefty weight of his member filling you in the ways that are so familiar yet need the most adjustment. The burning stretch, the feeling of being whole as he moves forward, inch by aching inch. Slowly letting you adjust, slowly giving himself the time to fit.
He pauses his movement, a grunt, heavy and man, releases from his mouth. The wet heat of your walls choking him, wrapping around him like a vice that sets every neuron, every pathway alight. He digs his fingers into the soft of you tugging you closer in search of the home he knows, the one that will bring him to his death. In your embrace, it would be kind, long-awaited, the better alternative to the threat that he faces every night on the street.
He stills his hips, letting you acclimate to the feel of him inside of you. Conversely, he tries to catch his breath, tries to not burst at the first feel of your tightness around him.
Tetsurou looks down at you, his hands smoothing up and down the expanse of your spread thighs as he watches the quick flicks of emotion on your face. Waiting for the signal, the green light to roll into you.
Your chest heaves with a stuttered breath, your breasts rising and falling and he falls into the impulse to bring his hands to them. Palms cupping the skin, thumbs brushing over peaked and taught nipples. Your skin is dewy with sweat, eyes blown with lust, and hair messy as you lie beneath him. Beautiful, beyond beautiful. He takes a snapshot of you in his mind, folding this image in the file for the late night thoughts, for the reasons to keep living.
Your face contorts into one of shock, eyes darting to his own, disrupting the image of ecstasy you were once so lost in. He mirrors your surprise with a look of confusion, unsure what happened in the split second to cause such a look from you.
“What did you say?” You ask, rising onto your elbows, shifting his place inside of you ever so slightly.
He hisses with the movement, hands rushing down to your hips to hold you still. He can’t think with the jolting, the hot lick of pleasure that burns within him at the slightest of shifting from you, but he tries anyway. Recalling the previous couple of seconds, wondering what could have slipped out of his mouth in the few moments that he was gazing down at you, staring in awe as you writhed underneath him.
“I’m so in love with you.”
It isn’t the most jarring of things to have ever been said by him, this evening alone enough of a reminder of the kinds of outrageous that his occupation can bring, but it’s the breach of a reality. The actualization of something fragile that lies between you two. It is easier to be abhorrently angry at him rather than violently in love with Tetsurou, and yet it remains.
Like a hidden secret, you kept it locked in you. Tried to stampen it out, snuff it with hands around its throat. But here he is, on his knees, just as victimized by the truth, begging for better days.
He rolls into you, then. Energized by his own admission, eager at the locking of your eyes. He pumps a steady rhythm, cock bullying against tight walls and rubbing in all the right ways, revitalized at the moans that spill out of you.
“I said I’m in love with you,” Palms release your breasts and find your own hands, intertwining fingers together and leaning close to you. Chest to chest, mouth hovering above your own, chasing the home of sweet release but making sure you’re right in front of him. “So fucking in love with you.”
It happens in quick succession. Pressure erupting, tide pulling you in and under, his voice the only tether to the surface as your orgasm reached you in record time. Brought asunder by the turmoil, the anticipation of him, and then finally having it. You can’t tell if it's because of the ministrations of his hips that know you so well, that know how to bring you forward— thighs pressing into yours, skin clapping at the repeated meeting of him into you, the tightening of the burning coil— or the confession. Spoken just as he has said everything else to you—
With conviction, firmly believing the words he has uttered. Kuroo has never lied to you, he wouldn’t do it now.
The blooming fire in your core spreads throughout the entirety of you; Your head throws back in a cry and Kuroo takes it as permission to follow you. Drops his head into your neck, thrusting with deep abandon as he finds his own peak. He digs and digs, burying himself to the hilt as he reaches it. His stomach tightening, his body going rigid as the high he seeks renders him still deep within you. A guttural moan leaving his mouth, unintelligible whispers, low muttered honesty that he means for himself.
He holds you close to him in the wake of the decrescendo, all but collapsing on top of you. Limbs gummy and soft, minds sluggish as he keeps you connected to him, for as long as you’ll let him.
Time passes like this, held close to him, sweat gluing you back to him in the way it was always meant to be.
And it's sticky, this mess that you're in, body and mind. Clinging to one another, your hands unthread with his fingers to run through his hair, his lips plant soft kisses to the skin that he can reach, and the fragments of uncertainty between you lay shattered in their great glory on the floor. The tide slowly rises, washing away the scattered pieces, returning it back to its sea, promising to take care of it all with a loving whisper.
You don’t know where to go from here. The abated fear that was put to rest in the heat of his touch slowly inches forward. He knows it must, can probably sense your rising apprehension before you even realize it. Spider senses, and whatnot.
His head rises from laying in the space between the couch and your neck, ambers looking into yours. Honestly, carefully, lovingly.
He brings his hand up, brushing a flyaway from your face. “What are you thinking about?” The quiet plea from before.
Let me in.
“Are you going to leave when I go to sleep?” You ask, and even if you had the energy to muster a kind of bite to your words, you don’t have the desire to.
He wonders for a second, voice soft when he finally questions, “Do you want me to?”
Old habits beat the familiar song, and you fear waking up again to an empty apartment after having him so close. No, you don’t want him to leave; But admitting that is jumping four hundred steps ahead in a wasteland now imploded from your coupling with him. Nothing about this is normal, even as you try to grasp some semblances of it. You shouldn’t have slept with your ex-boyfriend, not when you told yourself things needed to be patched up first, not when you were still hurt inside, but falling into the cycle, the old song and dance of before has thrown a wreck into the healthy attempt at boundaries.
It’s just made everything so much worse. Your head hurts, your heart pounds and all you can do is cover your face with your hands. Hiding the frustration before him.
“Hey,” Tetsurou coos, admonishing you gently from your secreting. His hands pull yours away from your face, voice guiding the quieting din in your mind. “I’d like to stay. We can talk all night or not at all. I just want to be next to you. But only if you want me.”
It’s up to you; All of this is up to you, now.
“And if I say ‘no’?”
“Then I’ll wait until you’re ready. Even if you’re never ready.”
You hum, a means to fill the space. Uncertainty lingering.
He calls your name quietly, the same seriousness that has been following him all evening in his gaze again. The kind that pointedly was not apparent three months ago before the rainy night. “You need to know though, before we start anything, before you make a decision, if it comes down to it—if your safety is on the line—I’ll do it again. I’ll do whatever it takes. And you can’t change my mind on it.”
It’s then that you realize even in the height of your argument, in the consuming of one another, Tetsurou never gave you an apology. Said to your face it wouldn’t fix anything because he wasn’t going to apologize to you. Saying he’s sorry would be a lie, and he doesn’t lie to you. He’ll hurt you both again if he needs to. If it comes to pass, that’s his answer; Wherever you’re concerned, if your safety is at risk, there isn’t much Tetsurou wouldn’t do to protect it—protect you.
A knowing that you are going to have to accept. And quickly.
Your eyes see only but the honorable truth in his. Your heart pumps erratically and your mouth craves the taste of his once more.
“Stay. I want you to stay.”
a/n: its here. two long years later. big thanks to everyone who loves this series and has been interested even after my long ass hiatus. you guys are the reason i kept going through it even through the worst of things. love you all! btw i made a whole ass playlist just for this chapter so let me know if that's something we are interested in
#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#kuroo x reader#kuroo tetsuro x reader#kuroo smut#kuroo tetsurou smut#kuroo tetsurou angst#hq angst#hq smut#spideroo!
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i tried falling for u — kuroo tetsuro x fem!reader
tags-childhood friends (not rlly friends, just classmates), angst, heavy pining. i never wrote full angst before so sorry if this is shit but anyway
Kids are fucking mean.
You’d been in love with Kuroo since you were eight years old. Something about the way he towered over his classmates, towered over you had you breathless, adrenaline pumped through your veins every morning at six am as you got ready for school, head full of Tetsurō.
He’d always been taller than the majority, standing tall at 5'6 at the juvenile age of eight. You’d spent most of your times gawking at him in secret, totally un-oblivious to not-so-secret transparent stares; eyes lingering on his figure whenever he walked past your table in class, walked past your in the hallways, playgrounds, cafeteria; eyes totally captivated on his entire being, your body froze up everytime you spotted him, messy bed hair and all in the corner of your eye.
Your friend, Mika, teased you for it, relentlessly. Snapping her fingers in your face to grab your attention from the giant over to her.
You had been practicing for the volleyball tryouts just to spend time with him, wasting time on your weekend learning how to put the volley in volleyball.
After a couple weeks of self-practice, you were getting nowhere so you had mustered up the very little confidence inside you to tap on his shoulder, tugging on the flimsy fabric till he turned around, eyes meeting no-ones until he looked down.
The moment his eyes met yours, you almost ran away, running behind the huge tree with bark thick enough to hide behind without being seen. Your stomach churns almost nauseatingly when his brows furrowed, looking at you almost weirdly.
“What do you want?” He said after at least fifteen seconds of silence and stares from a random girl that bothered him mid-serve.
“I—uh, can you help me?” You fumbled for words, swallowing excessively at the silence that followed after you used up all the confidence you had to pop the question; you failed to realise you didn’t even suggest what you needed help for.
“Help you with what?” His voice is a little rough, high in pitch but rough nonetheless. It had you fighting the urge to disappear, underwaying turbulence forming in the pit of your stomach.
“Volleyball?” You stated it like it’s obvious, hands moving from behind you to hold out the volleyball you had bought with your own money—yeah, that’s how much you liked him—and smiled weakly at him. “I need help with my serves.”
“You’re on the volleyball team?!”
“No—” You were unable to finish your sentence when his face scrunched up in disappointment. Panicking, you quickly add on, “but I’m trying out! Th-that’s why I need help.”
“Kuro.” A soft voice from the other end of the field speaks up, “what’s taking so long?”
“Ah Kenma, this girl needed help with serving.”
Your world comes to an abrupt stop when he placed his hand on your shoulder, butterflies frolocking around in your stomach when he pushed you forward to face Kenma, the small brunette who has his eyebrows furrowed as he looks at you for disturbing his practice time.
“Whaddya think? Should we help her?”
You stood stiff and still, body rivaling that of a mannequin as Kenma’s eyes rake over your entire form. You felt naked under his stare, the harsh winds of the winter afternoon breezing past had your skirt brushing against your skin to remind you that you were fully clothed.
“Sure.” Kenma shrugged his shoulders and the weight from your shoulders got lifted, metaphorically and physically as Tetsurō removed his bigger hand from your shoulder.
“Alright go over there, I’ll teach you.”
You spent the rest of that afternoon practicing with the both of them. You managed to see Kuroo smile whenever you got the serve over the net, laugh whenever it hit the net or went out of bounds and even compliment you before he left, patted you on the shoulder a bit too aggressively and told you to keep up the good work and you’ll make the team.
You couldn’t stop the smile on his face when the two of them left, disappearing back inside Kenma’s house just across the road. Oh, did I mention you lived just a couple houses away from him? You had the luxury of watching him go for his morning jog everyday at 6am—that’s definitely the reason you wake up that early, not just for school.
Months later, you made the team, playing as the team’s libero.
It was amazing, until you found out that you and Kuroo would not be on the same team. It didn’t occur to you at the time that girls and boys don’t play on the same team, but do attend tournaments and other competitions together.
You were devastated, more than devastated honestly; regretting all the months of work and time you put in just to get into volleyball.
The longer you played volleyball though, the more you liked it and came to the realisation that the training you did paid off.
At a volleyball camp, set up by the school, the girls team went over to the boys team and asked them to play truth or dare.
Your friend Mika was the deciding force behind the whole idea, winking in your direction when it came to Kuroo’s turn.
“Kuroo! Truth or dare?”
“Uh—” He lifted his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them before continuing, “Dare.”
“I dare you…” Mika paused, dragging out the word ‘you’ as she looked around the circle. You had a feeling that wink was her up to no good, and kept your gaze focused on the wooden floor of the gym, playing around with your shoelaces.
“...give (y/n) a kiss on the cheek.”
The air from your lungs gets coughed out violently as you choke around on nothing, eyes flitted up to face Mika who winked at you again, assuring you everything will be okay. One look to your right, confirmed that nothing would be alright, because Kuroo’s face looked like he had been forced to drink swamp water. “No thanks, truth.”
You swear you felt like throwing up. The chicken nuggets you ate earlier for lunch are already making their way up your throat.
This isn’t real, right? It’s just a kiss on the cheek--
The snickers coming from his male counterparts and your own teammates had you dipping your chin down, facing the floor once more, wishing you had earbuds on to drown out the sounds of their mockery.
You quit the team two months after that.
You thought maybe distancing yourself from the sport would also help you get rid of your crush.
News flash, it didn’t.
Your crush stuck with you into your first year of middle school, and your second…and third.
You spent the last weeks of your final term in middle school preparing, and waiting for the right time to ask Tetsurō out for the school dance, catching him at his locker after practice, tugging on the back of his shirt once more because that was the only way you knew how to get his attention.
He slammed his locker shut, volleyball shoes in one hand, P.E bag slung over his shoulder, still towering over you, (he’s 5 '10 now). “Yo, what’s up?”
“I just want to know—” You swung on the balls of your heels, avoiding his gaze at all costs so you don’t splutter on your words. “Do you maybe—I mean, are you going to the dance?”
“The dance?”
“Yeah, the one next week, for the third years to celebrate…before we leave for high school?”
Kuroo leaned against the lockers, head hitting the lockers softly as he looked up the ceiling, touching the base of his neck with his hand. “Aaah, I dunno. That shit looks kinda lame.”
“Oh.” You quickly fixed your face to hide your disappointment, “yeah, it’s super lame. I wouldn’t even wanna go.”
He snickered, tugging his arm through his coat sleeve. “So you’re not goin’?”
You shook your head. “Nope.”
“Yeah, same. I guess I’ll see you around…” he paused for a beat, your breath hitched in your throat when he looked directly at you, “what’s your name again?”
Oh.
“It’s (Y/n).” You told him, praying that you have the self control to hold yourself together when you feel your eyes start to heat up, the tears threatening to escape and your bottom lip started to quiver, “we went to primary school together?”
A tear falls when he looked away, down at his phone when it buzzed and you use that distraction to quickly wipe it with your sleeve. “Primary, ay? Hm…”
He really doesn’t remember—
“You helped me with volleyball? That one time?” Your tone is fairly uncertain, as if you don’t even remember it yourself; maybe it was all a dream or something. Still no memory of you.
“I live like two houses away from you and Kenma—”
“Oh, speaking of!” He perks up and you stand up a little straighter, hoping he’d remembered something of your existence. “I gotta go, Kenma’s waiting for me! I’ll see you later, uhh?”
“(Y/n)...” You’d said, defeated, hands trembling on the strap of your school bag as you watched him exit through the school doors.
A week later, you saw him at the dance.
Dancing with Mika.
Remember Mika? Your so-called best friend?
Yeah.
You watched in utter disbelief as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, not missing how she had to tiptoe a little bit to reach his height, not missing how she smiled as he whispered something into her ear, not missing the red tint on his ears when she kissed him on the cheek.
That was supposed to be you—
But the betrayal didn’t end there.
Oh, how could you forget high school.
Your crush on Tetsurō thankfully faded away throughout the years, only a couple sprinkles in your mind came back everytime you crossed him in the halls.
Aside from the inevitable dull heart ache inside your chest when you saw him, high school was pretty much a success. You’d made a tiny group of friends; Mika and Tetsurō dated for like a couple months, breaking up halfway during your first year.
You never spoke to her again.
Brief ‘heys’ and nods exchanges between you and Tetsurō occurred too. You didn’t go full ghost, you kept as minimum contact as possible.
Until your third year, when Kuroo magically spoke to you again, approaching you at a party his fellow teammate Yamamoto hosted, inviting Kuroo’s arch nemesis, Daishou Suguru.
You were totally unaware that Daishou had a crush on you. Only finding it out after the incident happened.
Kuroo and Daishou had gotten into an argument.
You weren’t sure when or where or why it happened, because you were by the poolside, pants rolled up to your knees as you dipped your legs into the pool, chatting with your tiny group of friends.
Kuroo came strolling in, dropping down beside you by the pool. “Hey.”
You weren’t sure if he was talking to you or not, a quick turn to left, you faced him as he was looking at you with a weak smile on his face. “...Hey?”
“Why’d you sound so unsure?”
You shrug.
He shifted his hands behind him, and you struggled to maintain eye contact with him, shifting your sight over to the ripples in the pool water. He dips his head down to look at you. “Everything okay?”
This was probably the longest conversation you’d had with him so far. No, you weren’t fucking okay. You felt like you were about to throw up—no, that’s nasty.
“I’m good, yeah.”
You send him a reassuring smile that wasn’t so reassuring; he could see it. He wasn’t blind, nor was he stupid. The brief second you looked back over at the pool, you missed him shooting his gaze up to Daishou, lounging beside the door, hands on Mika’s waist as he whispered something in her ear.
Oh, so that’s how you’re playing. Tetsurō’s tongue poked at his cheek before standing up, offering you his hand. “Wanna come dance with me?”
You stare down at his palm, it looks so soft, before blinking up at him. “What?”
“Dance with me.” He shakes his hand in the air, reminding you that it’s there for you to take. When you just stare at him, dazed and confused, he said, “c’mon. You’re clearly sad. Let me cheer you up.”
It never occurred to you how random this all was, how he suddenly wanted to talk to you today, dance with you today when he could’ve done all that before when you had asked him yourself that one day. You’re not even sure he remembered that incident either.
But you just brushed it off, thinking he’s into you as well and finally saw how head over heels you were for him.
So you accept his hand, let him drag you inside, let you dance on him, told you jokes, smiled with you, laughed with you. If you weren’t so blinded by love, you wouldn’t have missed the countless glances over your shoulder at Daishou, doing the same exact thing with Tetsurō‘s ex-girlfriend.
He cupped your cheek and the music drowned out, ears picking up nothing but the sound of his breathing as you stared up at him. His eyes darted down to your lips and sweat formed all over your body. You felt sticky and disgusting as your body temperature rose the closer his face got to yours…is it hot in here?
Your lips opened and closed for a moment before your eyes squeezed shut, preparing yourself for the impact. When Kuroo kissed you, your heart beated through your chest, you could hear it in your ears. His lips were soft as he worked them lazily against yours, hands still holding your face tight.
You had no clue what to do with your hands, awkwardly holding them at your side as if you were scared to touch him. Your trembling hands finally lifted, resting just on his shoulders, pulling him closer to you, mimicking the action Mika had done on that day.
Then it hit you; this was your first kiss. Tetsurō Kuroo was your first fucking kiss. And it was amazing. Fireworks went off in your head, giving you the urge to go an extra mile, grabbing his hand from your face, you moved it down to your waist, insisting him to hold you there.
He gratefully did so, sliding his hands up and down your back and you fought the urge to cry. His touch was so warm, so caring, so gentle.
A rough hand ripped Tetsurō away from you and you were left cold, practically shivering as you missed his warmth. Kuroo made eye contact with Daishou who looked livid. He was breathing way too heavily and his jaw was clenched.
Kuroo only cackled, the laughter is still something ringing in your ears to this day and slapped a hand on Daishou’s shoulder, “You good, brah?”
“Don’t fuckin’ ‘you good brah’ me! What did you have to bring her into this?!” The entire party stops what they’re doing to watch the commotion, Daishou’s voice loud enough to catch everyones attention as he points at you, your face still flushed from the makeout.
“So when you make moves on my ex it’s fine, but when I kiss your crush it’s not?”
“Crush?” You say, quietly and Daishou looks at you like he’s fumbling for the right words. “Wait, wait—so you don’t like me, Kuroo? You just kissed me for what—?”
“It’s not a big deal,” he shrugs, your heart tore in two.
“Big deal?” You clenched your trembling fists, “that was my first kiss.” You tried to sound angry, but your voice was wavering, your confident persona crumbling down into pieces in front of everyone. “You—did you even know I liked you? After all these years? And you’re just—are you serious right now?”
“You like me?” He didn’t sound phased, just passed it off as a regular occurrence which you assume is normal because he gets confessions on a regular basis. “Oh, my bad, I guess.”
You examined him once more, trying to search for at least a sorry bone in his body, searching for at least an ounce of guilt, but you failed to find anything. Daishou just watched the entire thing, blinking the entire time and Kuroo looked around awkwardly when hot tears started to fall down from your face.
You sped out that party faster than you’d ever ran before, dropping down by a street light and cried, mascara spilling down your face. It was messy and honestly your breaking point. You’d spent at least ten years pining over this guy, only for each time you mustered up the courage to talk to him he either;
Forgot you existed
Blew you off/lied to you
Humiliated you in front of everyone
You were struggling with confidence issues in the past, had a single friend your entire childhood, and she ended up betraying you either way. Your current friends, who you’re sure saw the commotion inside —because who the fuck didn’t? —still didn’t come in to check on you. Not even a text asking if you’re okay, didn’t chase after you, didn’t call you.
Nothing.
You sat there on the sidewalk, diggin your face into your knees and sobbed into your arms.
After you’re sure what is around five minutes, there’s a tap on your shoulder.
“Go away.” You mutter, not wanting to be bothered by some stranger asking why you’re sitting on a sidewalk at 10PM on a Friday night. The stranger taps again and you don’t respond this time, hoping they grab the hint. But they don’t; tapping once more and you shoot up, “What?!”
The guy steps back a bit, hands in the air before moving them to his pockets. “Just wanted to see if you’re okay.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I mean,” he doesn’t need to say much; you had dried tears on your face, black ink tracing down your cheeks from the mascara, your eyes were puffy and red, and your chest was stuttering with each breath you took, “you—uh, don’t look so good?”
“I’m fine.” You wipe your nose with your arm, smudging your fucked up makeup even more.
“No, you’re not.” There’s shifting and the man sits down next to you on the sidewalk. “I saw what happened in there.”
“Ok.”
“It was pretty fucked.”
“Ok.”
He sighs when you don’t co-operate, raking his eyes down your body he notices you’re shivering. A jacket is thrown onto your shoulders and you grip the sleeves gently, unable to look him in the eyes as you mutter out, “thank you.”
“It’s no problem.”
You both sit there in silence for a short moment. He’s counting all the cars parked on the opposite side of the road and you dig deep inside your brain trying to think of a conversation starter.
“I’m (Y/n).”
“Iwaizumi Hajime.” When he tells you his name, you smile at him weakly, looking back down at your fingers. “Want me to walk you home?”
“...yes please.”
#— zeltqz 📭💌#—hq </3#kuroo x reader#kuroo angst#hq kuroo#kuroo headcanons#kuroo drabble#kuroo tetsurou angst#kuroo tetsurou x reader#kuroo x you#hq angst#hq imagines#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu x reader
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Love Me Longer -- Kuroo Tetsurou
+ smut,, 18+ only,, dom reader,, friends with benefits, angst, mutual longing,, unedited | 3k words
Kuroo Tetsurou…. If you had to put him into one word, it would be- well it would be stubborn. Somehow, he always got what he wanted with you, even if it wasn’t what you wanted in the first place. You always found yourself giving in.
Giving into longing looks, or the soft touches. Giving into the thoughts that plagued your head when you saw him across the room to someone else, someone who wasn’t you; like he was doing right now. Always finding yourself in his arms at the end of the night, still longing for him. For more. But it’s what he wanted, who were you to say no.
He was yours at night. That was fine…. yeah. Maybe if you kept telling yourself that, it would be okay. Pushing down those feelings for so long they can’t find their way out again, can’t find their way to the front of your mind every time you see his smile. God-his smile.
That was one of the things you liked about him the most. The way his lips turned up in a sly grin when he caught you staring, knowing exactly what you were thinking. It seemed to always be on his face when he looked at you. Especially when he was under you, face flushed as he stared up. Hands wandering up your torso right as you moved your hips against him in just the right way.
You’d lean down, pressing your chest against his, pulling him into a slow, dragged out kiss. Mirroring the pace with your hips just so you could swallow his soft whines. Trying to memorize every dip of his toned muscles, or the way he tasted as he bucked up into you, trying to get you to move. Hoping that maybe, just maybe you’d remember it when you had to leave.
This wasn’t enough.. but it had to be. Tangled with him when the sky grew dark, in the quietness of his apartment. Trying your best to not think about having to leave in the morning. At least you got to stay with him for the night, his head tucked into the crook of your neck while both of your breath evened out. Fingers slowly tracing patterns into his side as he fell asleep.
“Y/n.” Kuroo’s arm was around your waist now. Pulling you from your thoughts, you hadn’t even realized that he was next to you. But, you weren’t surprised he’d always do this. Especially when he was drinking. At a certain point, a certain number of drinks, he’d forget all about you not being his.
Hanging off of you like he was scared you’d leave without him- leave him at the party he asked you to go to with someone other than him. Not like you’d ever do that to him. He was the only person you wanted to be with right now, or ever really. Never really setting your sights on another person like he said you should.
“Tetsurou… You’re drunk.”
He leaned into you and smiled as he stared down at you. He slid around, wrapping both of his arms around your waist. You were pressed against him now. Hands traveling down his shoulders to his toned biceps. No matter how many times you experienced this, experienced the look in his eyes as he leaned down pressing his lips to yours; your heart sped up like it was the first time.
“So.” You could smell the vodka on his breath now. Eyes flicking down as his tongue slid over his bottom lip ever so slightly. Your grip tightened on his arms, trying not to let him affect you. It never worked.
His hands were sliding up now. Pulling you even closer as they pushed under your shirt. Making you shiver when you felt his fingers ghosting on your skin.
“Tetsurou-“ You said breathless now, the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. That fucking smile.
“Y/n.” That’s all it took. One quiet whisper of your name as a dusting of pink spread across his cheeks. You were hooked again. No matter how hard you tried. No matter how much you told yourself you didn’t want him, that nothing was going to happen tonight.
You were tugging on his shirt, pulling him down to meet your lips. He didn’t hesitate. Catching your lips in his, the kiss was soft, slow. It still made you melt all the same. Your hands sliding up to his hair, where they always seemed to settle when you kissed him. You couldn’t help it, it was just so soft. Grounding you slightly as you got high on his lips.
The bitter taste of liquor still lingering on his lips. You pushed your tongue in his mouth, wanting to taste more of it. He let you, hands gripping your waist tighter as you did. He pulled away first. Breath heavy and warm as it puffed over your lips.
“Can we leave?” Kuroo’s voice was low, laced with a needy haste. You knew exactly what he wanted, exactly what was buried underneath that seemingly innocent question.
You nodded. It was all he needed as an answer before lacing his hand in yours, pulling you through the hordes of drunken college students. Slow enough to guide you carefully, but there was an urgency in his movements that always came out at times like this.
It didn’t take long to make it to his apartment. The party was only a few minutes’ walk away. You walked side by side, hand still in his. If you tried hard enough, you could almost pretend that he wasn’t yours just for the night. That you were going home.
It never worked.
The familiar presence of his apartment washed over you as you followed him inside. Climbing on his lap as he sat on the couch. He stared up at you for a moment, eyes lidded from the drinks he’d already chugged down, face still lit up with a rosy hue.
Your arms sat loosely wrapped around his neck. Neither of you talked, you never really did at times like this. Both of you knowing what the other needed, it was never rushed either. That is one of the best things you liked about Kuroo. He didn’t rush you, you were able to savor each and every touch.
“Kiss me.”
It was simple, demanding, almost bratty.. In any other circumstance you would’ve smacked him for talking to you like that. But now, it was the only thing you wanted. So, you did.
Leaning down, pressing your lips against his once more. A small gasp slipping from your lips when his hands slip up your shirt again. He was always fixated on touching you, but his favorite time was just like this. Hands sliding between you and your clothes, greedily taking in every soft shiver as he moved his fingers against your skin.
A soft whine fell from Kuroo’s lips when you shifted, pressing yourself further into him. He was already hard; it really didn’t take much after he had been staring at you all night long.
Everywhere you went, his eyes followed your form, sweeping down your body, he wanted you to be with him. That wasn’t new, he always wanted you to be with him. Especially when he saw you with someone else, someone other than him.
Maybe he was just a little bit jealous, but he couldn’t really act on it. Not when he had already told you he only wanted to be friends, that a relationship was too hard at the time. That was a few months ago, but you seemed so content in keeping it this way; he didn’t want to change that.
You always wore a soft expression when he caught you looking at him. He wasn’t sure if it was from you two being so close for so many years, or if you were really starting to feel something else for him. But he wouldn’t risk it, wanting to keep you in his life like this rather than not at all. He could put up with the feelings that twisted his stomach in knots. He would keep you like this for a little bit longer.
“Fuck.” His voice was already shaky, and you took notice of it. Expecting him to already be so needy. You ground your hips against him, shifting so you could press into him even more.
“What’s wrong, Tetsurou?” Tone laced with innocence, but you knew exactly what he wanted. You learned over these past few months what he was like when he wanted you, needed you. It was something you found pride in, being able to read him like an open book. Especially when you were like this. “You seemed like you knew what you wanted earlier. So, tell me what you want?”
“Why do you always tease me.”
“Because you make it so easy.”
It wasn’t long after that where you found yourself pinned under him. The softness of his bed gave you comfort as you stared up into his hungry eyes. Hair falling into his eyes, he looked so perfect. So pretty.
You took advantage of these moments. When he was completely yours. He’d let you do anything you wanted to him.. Whatever you asked, he’d give in like it was his nature.
“Tetsurou..” You were breathless again, the look in his eyes making it hard to focus on anything else than him.
“What, Y/n.” His breath was hot on your neck again. He leaned down lips dancing lightly down your jaw, as he slowly pushed your shirt up. Pulling away just enough to pull your shirt off. You leaned up with him as he did. You knew what to do, just exactly how his movements worked. Moving with him in perfect rhythm.
His shirt went next. Your fingers dipping down the curves of his abs, trailing slowly to slide across his waistband. Tugging slightly at it, you couldn’t tease him anymore. Even if you wanted to.
The alcohol flowing through your veins was making it hard to resist him, not that you wanted to. You just liked to see how flushed you could get him as he waited for you to do something to him. But it was different tonight, for some reason you stopped the pull towards him.
You unbuttoned his jeans, swiftly pushing them down. Your hand slid down to palm him softly as he grew even harder in your hold.
“You’re so pretty.” You’ve uttered those words so many times to him, yet it still didn’t fail to make his breath come out shakier as your hand swirled around the tip.
You pushed against his chest making him sit back on his knees, pulling yourself out from under him. Pushing a hand through your hair as you leaned forward, licking a long strip up. Enjoying the soft moan that fell from his lips. His fingers were already slipping into your hair as you took him in your mouth.
“Fuck you feel so good.”
You hummed at that, the vibrations pushing another moan out of his throat as you bobbed your head. Looking up, you almost moaned. He had his bottom lip tugged between his teeth; eyes lidded as he stared down.
Gripping his thigh tighter, you stroked what you couldn’t fit into your mouth with your other hand. When his soft moans grew louder as you swirled your tongue around the tip you pushed yourself. Hollowing your cheeks and trying to relax your throat as much as you could, taking him in until your nose was buried into his pelvis.
His grip tightened in your hair. A loud breathy whine filling the room. You tried to stay as long as you could, the burning of your lungs only making you pull back once it got too much to bear. A long string of spit connected your lower lip to the tip of his length.
You could feel the wetness already pooling between your legs as you pressed your thighs together. His hand slid from your hair down your face, cupping your cheek making you look up at him.
“I fucking love you.”
There it was. He always said that at some point during the night. You weren’t expecting it so soon, it sent a warmth through your veins that you haven’t felt in a long time.
“Shut up.”
That’s all you could say really, how else were you supposed to respond. He always threw it out randomly, but there was something about the look on his face when you responded. It was different. Different than all those other times where he used to give you a sly smile.
This wasn’t something new between you two. You had always been throwing out “love you’s” to each other, starting back since you got close. He slowly became your best friend, not that you were surprised.
You just didn’t think you’d fall for him, let alone ever be in this position with him. Trying to figure out just what the fuck he meant.
Your eyes widened and you noticed the grin on his face wasn’t there anymore. The one that was always sitting on his lips. “Tetsurou.”
At the beginning, when your friendship slowly started to turn into something… different. You had tried to be like this with other people, but none of them were the same. None of them could make you feel as good as Kuroo did. So you stopped, saving this only for him. Not that he needed to know that.
You knew exactly what he’d do if you told him that he was the only one that could please you. He’d pester you for the entire day about it, asking all sorts of questions with a cocky grin never leaving his face. He was always like that, feed his ego one time and he’d never let you get out of it.
“Fuck-“
Before you could let him say anything else, before he could ruin the night with whatever was coming next you moved up to him. Pulling him in to swallow the loud moan that slipped from his lips as you started to work your hand again. Your other hand buried in his soft hair, tugging harshly at it to pull his head back.
His eyes fluttered shut when he felt your lips attach to his neck. You could feel the whines coming from his throat now, they were broken, his voice almost cracking with each fast paced stroke of your hand.
You couldn’t give him any more time to think about how much he just really fucking loved you. You couldn’t let your heart break more than it already was.
“Fuck, oh god, I’m-”
Kuroo’s breathing was heavy and uneven, but you pulled him into a kiss, cutting off the rest of his barely mumbled sentence. It was long, full of every emotion both of you felt for each other. His back arched off the bed as he tried desperately to get closer to you, to touch every part of you as he came.
He was always like that, no matter how you fucked him, he needed to touch you. You hoped it was because he was scared to lose you too, but you couldn’t ever be that lucky.
Your lungs burned but you still kissed him, even as he relaxed back into the bed coming down from his high, you didn’t want to let go.
Each time you did, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to kiss him again, or hold him as he tucked his head under your chin, breath still heavy and shaky.
“Don’t talk….just don’t.”
He listened to you, knowing exactly what you meant. The moment would break, reality slowly slipping into what you could almost pretend was perfect. You held him in your arms, eyes closed as you tried hard not to think about the night ending.
You didn’t want to leave in the morning. Didn’t want to walk back to your apartment alone, again.
You just wanted to stay for once, stay with him. He wanted the exact same thing, to wake up in your arms and not dread the moment you’d shut the door behind you, leaving him completely alone. Counting the hours until night would fall, and he could see you again.
It wasn’t either of your faults for not realizing both of you were serious. That you both wanted more than this, wanted each other wholly. It was hard to put your feelings into words, and neither of you wanted to ruin what you had for what could be.
Kuroo’s hands ran up and down your bare arm, his chest slowly rising and falling against you. It was lulling you to sleep, and you couldn’t fight it. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t. Slowly slipping into sleep, trying to imprint this moment in the back of your eyelids, hoping that the last look you saw on his face before you closed your eyes would stay there.
You swore you almost saw something more than desire in his eyes, a softness floating in them. Maybe you were imagining it, but it didn’t matter. It still filled your chest with warmth, letting yourself believe for tonight that maybe he really was yours. Letting yourself dive into the dream of being with him completely.
“You know I love you, right?”
You almost didn’t hear him, voice so quiet it sounded like you were hearing it in your head. Your chest knotted as you screwed your eyes shut, arms tightening around him, trying to believe him. He always said that when he fucked you, you weren’t sure if it was true or not.
“Yeah….”
#kuroo smut#kuroo angst#kuroo x reader#kuroo tetsurou#haikyuu#haikyu x reader#haikyuu smut#haikyuu angst#kuroo imagine#kuroo oneshot#kuroo x you#kuroo tetsurou smut#kuroo x dom reader#sub kuroo#kuroo tetsurou angst#kuroo fwb#haikyuu oneshot#haikyuu!!#haikyu!!#haikyuu kuroo#haikyuu kuroo tetsurou#kuroo scenario
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pairing: kuroo tetsurou x reader
warnings: hurt/comfort?? reader is sad then he helps, use of pet names (puppy + baby), kuroo threatens to tickle reader</3 dedicated to my baby girl @hagiophobix bc she was having a bad day
wc: 700
from the moment kuroo stepped into your shared home, he could tell something was wrong. the fact that you didn't greet him at the door with a smile on your face and ready for a hug meant you were upset. it meant you were really upset, because even on bad days you'd greet him with a hug.
"puppy?" kuroo called through the house. it didn't take long before he could hear your soft cries coming from the bedroom. "baby, what's wrong?"
you couldn't say anything in response, just cry more. he had sat next to you and pulled you into his lap so he could hold you, "c'mon, talk to me y/n. what's going on?"
you weren't entirely sure what to tell him. your friends were being mean, you messed up cooking lunch, and a baby cried when you waved to it today. none of those were good enough reason for you to be here sobbing into your boyfriend's pillow and holding onto it like your life depended on it.
"it's all stupid stuff," you managed to get out between cries, "i'm just being stupid. i'm sorry for worrying you, tetsu," you wiped your tears away in attempts to calm down, to show him that you're okay. but in the process you poked your eye and that just made you cry harder.
"if it upsets you this much then it has to be something," kuroo grabbed your chin and made you look at him, "so tell me all about it, yeah?"
so you did. you weren't even sure he could understand half the things you were saying because you were crying so hard, but he listened and nodded along as you spoke. sometimes offering little hums in response but mostly just kissing your forehead and telling you it's okay.
"you're feeling a lot of big emotion right now," kuroo spoke softly, moving his body so now he's laying on his back and you on his chest. "sounds like you had a rough day, huh love?"
all you could do in response is sniffle
"it's okay," he gave another kiss to the top of your head and rubbed your back, "sometimes we have days like this, and that's okay. not everyday has to be amazing, you know?" he pet your hair, trying to calm you down. eventually it worked, his soft coos and words of affirmation helped you steady your breathing and stop crying. "are you feeling better now?"
"mm," you hum, barely able to open your eyes. crying so heavily for even just the hour you were had exhausted you, "can we take a nap?"
kuroo laughed, "at this point, love, a nap is really just going to bed.” he leaned up and stretched. you hadn’t noticed that he was still in his dress shirt and tie. hasn’t even taken off his shoes. it made sense, he walked in the house and immediately came to your aid. “you want to come keep me company while i cook dinner?”
“can we order something?” you pouted a little, “i want pizza,” you still held onto his hand, using your best puppy dog eyes. as much as you could use a nice meal cooked by your amazing boyfriend, pizza was one of your guilty pleasure foods. and you really needed that right now.
“of course, anything for you,” kuroo nodded his head, giving you another kiss on your collar bone this time. “‘m gonna go order it, do you want to come with me? and when the pizza gets here we can take a warm bath together?” you gave him a smile as an answer. “there’s the smile i love so much.”
“tetsuuuu,” you whined, hiding your face in the pillow, “quit teasing before i start crying again,”
“oh no no no, we can’t have that.” he laid half on top of you, “no more crying today. otherwise i may have to pull out the big guns,” his fingers began creeping up your sides, where he knows you’re ticklish.
“kuroo tetsurou!” you shrieked, shoving his hands away from you, “okay okay, i’m fine.”
“no more crying?” he raised his eyebrows, “promise?”
“promise.”
reblogs, requests, comments n likes appreciated <3
#kuroo x reader#kuroo tetsuro x reader#hq#kuroo tetsuro fluff#kuroo tetsuro angst#haikyuu fluff#kuroo haikyuu#haikyuu angst#mine !!#kuroo tetsurou x reader#kuroo tetsurou angst#kuroo tetsurou fluff
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!disclaimer none of the works featured on this blog belong to me. all reachable creators were asked for permission to have their work linked on here
main directory
KUROO TETSURŌ
➵ series: story consisted of multiple chapters
➵ one-shot: a single piece of standalone work; can be any length, such as from 1k to 80k words
➵ drabbles: short piece of writing; typically under 1k words and usually around 100 words
➵ blurbs & others: small short description, headcanons, etc.
❀ = fluff ⋆˚ ✧ = angst ⋆˚ ♡ = smut ⋆˚ ✄ = crack
SERIES
tba
ONE-SHOT
tba
DRABBLE
domestic: apartment cleaning (❀) by @augustinewrites
warnings/notes: none
twin mix-up (❀ ✄) by @emmyrosee
warnings/notes: dad!kuroo
BLURBS & OTHERS
PROMPTS
are you trying to seduce me into healthier sleeping patterns? (❀) by @augustinewrites
updated: dec 25, 2023
#kuroo tetsurou angst#kuroo tetsurou smut#kuroo tetsurou fluff#kuroo tetsurou x reader#kuroo tetsurou x you#kuroo x reader#kuroo x you#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you
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SLEEPING ON THE COUCH AFTER AN ARGUMENT
Ft.: Kuroo Tetsurou, Akaashi Keiji
Angst but with fluff at the end. Just my boys kuroo and Akaashi and sleeping on the couch after an argument. Reblogs + interactions are highly appreciated!!
༊ KUROO
Kuroo cannot sleep. It's nearly 3 in the morning and he's twisting and turning on the bed for about an hour now, unable to fall asleep. The other side of his bed seems unnaturally cold and empty due to your lack of presence. You both had gotten into an argument about 2 hours prior. You had tried to convey your thoughts across to him about how worried you were that he was overworking himself and in his state of tiredness he was definitely not in the mood for your nagging. He took out his annoyance on you which resulted in some back and forth yelling before you decided to give him some space and sleep on the couch. But it had been hours and however much he denied it, Kuroo could not sleep without you. So, deciding to swallow his stupid pride he went out to the living room just to find your shivering self on the couch. You had a thin blanket on and it was a cold night.
"I know you're not sleeping," he whispered as he knelt by the couch to look at you.
What he saw broke him, there were dried tears on your face. He always fell apart when he saw you cry.
"Look I'm really sorry for what I said. Half of those things, I didn't mean them and neither should I have uttered them in the first place. It has happened now and as much as I wish I could change it, I can't. So, I'm asking you to forgive me y/n. I'm really really sorry. I love you so much ," he stroked your cheek and you could not pretend anymore. You slowly opened your eyes to look at him.
"You do?" You asked silently.
"More than you could ever know, love. You're the best thing that's happened to me. You're not nagging when you worry about me. I'm sorry for saying that. I was annoyed and irritated and tired and I took it out on you like a fool. I've said hurtful things and I feel terrible for it. Forgive me please," he looked at you with so much love and adoration as he asked for forgiveness that you broke again. You sniffled a little before cracking a small smile.
"I've said some hurtful things as well. Things I shouldn't have said. I'm sorry," you whispered to him.
"It's okay. Come back to bed now love. Tomorrow, I'm taking the day off and we'll do whatever you want to do. Sounds good?" He smiled at you, stretching his hand towards you for you to take it.
"Sounds perfect," you smiled as you took his hand in yours.
༊ AKAASHI
Arguments with Akaashi were rare. Most of the time, you both would talk things out and solve the problem rationally rather than lashing out. You both tried to be logical and tried to communicate no matter how tired or angry you both were. But sometimes however, that was just not the case. Sometimes, things got out of hand, anger overpowered your more rational sides and things got ugly. Tonight just happened to be one of those nights. Honestly, you don't even know how the argument started. You just knew that both of you were exhausted from work and on top of that things had been rough in your personal life lately. These reasons probably got to you and an argument took place. You both had verbally hurt each other to the extent that Akaashi decided to sleep on the couch, unable to fight anymore. He left you in the bedroom alone and fuming. But the moment he picked up a blanket and went to the couch, regret immediately filled you up. You ran after him to the living room where he laid on the couch. God, he didn't even have a pillow under his head, his neck would hurt like crazy in the morning.
"Keiji," you called out his name and as you expected, there was no answer from him.
"Keiji I'm sorry," you sat at the end of the couch where his feet were propped up on the hand rest.
"I let my anger and frustration take over me and said some pretty shitty things. I'm sorry I really did not mean them. I would never," at that, he looked up at you to see your eyes getting teary as a frown took over your face.
"Don't cry y/n," he sat up and brought himself closer to you.
"I don't know what took over me. I'm so sorry. I always try to be calmer and more thoughtful while speaking but today I don't know. Work has been stressful and I probably took that out on you. Something I shouldn't have done and something I highly regret," you took his hand as you looked at him.
"I said some pretty awful stuff to you too, you know. You're not entirely at fault here. I'm sorry. Next time, I'll try to be more thoughtful and I'll definitely not yell at you again," he gave you a small smile as he opened his arms for you to hug him. You gladly did.
"Me too. Come to bed now. You didn't even bring a pillow with you. Do you want your neck to hurt?" He laughed a little at that.
"Always thinking about me aren't you," he hugged you tighter.
"Mhm. Keiji?" You started as you broke the hug to look at him. "We're okay right?"
"We will be, love."
#hq#haikyuu#hq x reader#haikyuu x reader#hq angst#haikyuu angst#hq fluff#haikyuu fluff#kuroo tetsurou#kuroo#kuroo angst#kuroo fluff#kuroo x reader#akaashi keiji#akaashi#akaashi angst#akaashi fluff#akaashi x reader#kuroo tetsurou x reader#akaashi keiji x reader#hq headcanons#haikyuu headcanons#hq scenarios#haikyuu scenarios#kuroo scenarios#kuroo headcanons#akaashi scenarios#akaashi headcanons#kuroo tetsurou angst#akaashi keiji angst
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“𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐎 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐘” — 𝐏𝐓 𝟐
read part 1 here!
pairing: kuroo x reader & kenma x reader
genre: hurt/comfort
a/n: hello !! sorry for being gone for soooo long D: i wasn’t doing well and was in a really bad place mentally.. (plus burnout 😓😓) but regardless tysm for all the love in the first part of this fic! i appreciate u all sm and i’ll work on getting asks in! thank u for being so patient w me !! luv u :D
kuroo tetsuro
you woke up late today and weren't surprised that kuroo had already left for work by the time you woke up. but he did leave you a post-it note saying he made breakfast leftovers for you in the fridge.
you smile at the thought that kuroo took the time out of his day to make some food especially in the morning. however, as you're getting ready for the day, your eye catches the lunch bag that's sitting on the kitchen bar countertop.
"this idiot," you mumble, shaking your head with a smile on your face. you pull out your phone and shoot him a text.
y/n: thanks for the breakfast it was really good
tetsu: im glad :)
y/n: also you left your lunch at home stupid
tetsu: oh shit
tetsu: can you drop it off for me? i cant come home to pick up, im in a meeting rn
y/n: yeah that's fine
tetsu: thanks baby ill kiss u when i see u
tetsu: love u 2 the moon and back !!
y/n: ur so weird
y/n: love u 2 the moon and back <3
a few hours pass by and now you're taking the bus to head to kuroo's office with his lunch bag in hand. before leaving the house, you decided to swap his current lunch which was some leftovers with his favorite food, grilled salted mackerel.
you enter his office floor and are greeted by the office receptionist from the floor. "i'm just here to drop off some food for kuroo-san."
"oh yes, right this way," she stands up and opens the office door for you and points out where his room is.
as you're about to knock on his door, you hear his voice from the other side. "i'm not sure if i can come out tonight to eat kenma. y/n probably wants me home, you know how clingy they get sometimes."
your heart sinks to the floor.
has he always thought of me this way? clingy? i didn't mean to act that way? i just like being in his company. i didn't mean to be clingy. i didn't know he felt that way...
"anyways, i'll call you back kenma. i gotta get back to work. see ya later" he ends the call.
you take a deep breath, standing in front of the door, thinking about kuroo's words to his best friend. before you could even knock, the door opens and you're greeted by kuroo.
"oh y/n! you should've texted me you were here!"
you let out a laugh that sort of dies in your throat. "oh um i just wanted to surprise you that's all."
"come in, let's eat together. you can see the beautiful downtown view from here," he tries to usher you inside his personal office room.
you're a little uncomfortable so you hold yourself back from going on, "maybe another time, yeah? i gotta head back. i've got a lot of work to do with college and work and stuff."
"no yeah of course, i get it. work hard! but first..." kuroo smiles and before you can pull away, he kisses you on the head. "i'll see you when i get home. love you!"
too ashamed to even look at him as you walked out of his office, you just wave to him with your back facing him as you walked away.
you're now sitting on the bus on the way home, thinking about the way he called you clingy. "you know how clingy they get.." has he always thought i'm clingy? has he just been putting up with my annoying habits? i thought he liked the way i treated him. i didn't know he thought it was clingy.
you're trying to look back at your actions and now it's all coming back to you.
you're always trying to kiss him, hug him, cuddle him. you're always talking to him about random things from an occurrence at the grocery store to some new show you're watching. literally last night, you both were cuddling while watching a new episode of kuroo's favorite sit-com and you were running your fingers through his hair.
it all made sense.
you were clingy.
and he wanted space.
you were going to respect that.
kuroo comes home later that evening and announces himself with an "i'm home!"
you're on the dining table with the computer open, working on some new assignment and you smile at him. "welcome home," you say with a smile.
he's expecting you to get up and come over and hug him like you usually do but to his surprise, you continue to look back at your computer.
he assumes you're just busy and doesn't think much of it.
kuroo heads into the shared bedroom to unwind from his hectic day at work. he takes a shower and changes into some pajama pants and is now heading back to the living room to see what you're up to.
you're still sitting on the dining table with all your notebooks splayed out and computer open, working on what seems to be some really big project. he plops down next to you and starts squinting at the screen. he starts poking you to grab your attention from the screen.
"the mackerel was really good today."
"that's good."
silence envelops the atmosphere between the both of you until kuroo decides to speak again.
"what are you working on?"
"college stuff."
"maybe take a break now?" he suggests.
"i can't. it's due soon," your voice flat. "if you want dinner, there's some leftovers i made in the fridge."
"alright," he replies, getting up from the chair to the kitchen to warm up some food.
his shoulders droop a little. he was hoping to spend some time with you. but he is aware that something is off with you. he's not sure what it is but he knows something isn't right. you haven't given him a single kiss or even a hug since he's been back and your usual sarcastic remarks are gone.
you've barely even acknowledged his presence.
"maybe it's just an off day?" is what he convinces himself.
but those "off days" are starting to become more consistent.
you're out of bed before he wakes up in the morning and you barely talk to him when he comes home. you always end up sleeping after he falls asleep and he can't even stay up because of how exhausted he gets after work. the amount of physical affection has declined from you and every time he texts or talks to you, your replies are barely existent.
it feels like he's living by himself. when did it get so cold?
on the other hand, you think it's going well! you haven't been all up in his business lately. you're giving him the space he wants. you're hoping that kuroo is feeling much happier since you're smothering him less. sure, you miss getting to hold and cuddle him but this is what he wanted, right?
now that the week is over, kuroo is hoping to spend the weekend with you.
that morning, kuroo sets an alarm to wake up earlier than you in hopes of spending some extra affectionate time with you. however, the moment he wakes up, the other side of the bed is empty and cold.
he has no choice but to get out of bed to see where you are. there's no way you're up right now. at 7 am on a weekend? no way.
he walks out of the room and he feels his heart chip. you're sleeping on the couch, slightly shivering because the blanket you're using barely covers you. have you been sleeping on the couch this past week? why didn't i notice? kuroo begins to internally berate himself right now for letting you sleeping on the couch for this past week right under his nose.
with no hesitation, he bridal-style carries you back into the shared bedroom and tucks you under the duvet cover and comes back into bed.
however, you've already woken up and you sit up on the bed, startled. "w-what? where am i?"
he scoffs, "i brought you in our bedroom idiot."
"oh," you're now grabbing your stuff and climbing out to go back to the couch but kuroo stops you by grabbing your arm.
"where are you going?"
"to the couch?"
"but this is our bedroom?"
"no, this is your bedroom," you emphasize.
"y/n." his tone feels cold to you. "talk to me."
"we are talking, are we not?"
he starts scratching the back of his neck. "yes but you know it's not the same. what's going on baby?"
his hand to tries to reach your cheek to stroke it with his thumb but you turn away and immediately stand up from his bed. "it's okay kuroo, please go back to sleep. it's the weekend, you should rest."
his heart chips at the gesture. why are you avoiding him like this? what did he do? what happened to 'tetsu?'
"it's tetsu to you," he mumbles.
you open your mouth but shut it and cast you eyes away from his stare down at the floor.
"it's always been tetsu to you," he states.
you're still silent and he takes it as his queue to continue speaking.
"baby, everyday i come home from work and you barely acknowledge me. you're always busy doing 'college stuff' or something else. you barely hug me or even kiss me anymore. what happened? what did i do? did i do something wrong? did i overstep my boundaries? are you mad at me about something? please i wanna know what i did wrong so i can fix myself."
your heart softens at his words and you begin to immediately reassure him.
"there's nothing wrong with you... nothing has ever been wrong with you... i just want to work on giving you your space. i know that you think i'm clingy and so i wanted to work on just giving you room to breathe. i know i can be a little too much sometimes. i'm sorry for not realizing how clingy my actions were sooner. i'm sorry i-"
he immediately walks over to you and brings you to his chest, hugging you tightly. your eyes slightly widen. "don't you dare fucking apologize. it's not your fault. shit, it's never been your fault, baby. what made you even think that?"
in embarrassment, you mumble, "i heard you say i'm clingy to kenma. sorry i didn't mean to overhear."
"oh, my love," he pulls away and looks at you with a sad look in his eyes. "it's not what you think."
he sighs and he sits on the side of the bed and taps the bed space in front of him for you to sit down as well. "kenma's been trying to get me to go meet some new volleyball members to affiliate them with the jva and to be honest, i already have so much on my plate with the current affiliates, that i'm really trying to avoid going out for dinner with him. i'm trying to get one of my coworkers to go on my behalf to seal the deal but i can't find anyone willing to."
"i just used your name as an excuse. i swear on my life, i never really meant that. i never ever meant to hurt you."
still finding it hard to believe him, you mumble, "you don't need to lie.. i understand if-"
"y/n, i swear on my mother, i'm not lying," he interrupts. "every single fucking day, the only think i ever look forward to is seeing your beautiful face in my apartment. i look forward to your rambles about the new show you started watching or how the current professor you're shadowing is a douche. i love your bear hugs and i love the way you kiss me all over my face in the mornings. fuck, i love knowing that i get to go to sleep with you every night and i get to wake up to you every morning. i love you, just the way you are. please don't ever change yourself over some fucking lie i said."
"i'm so sorry y/n, so sorry for ever making you doubt my love for you," he intertwines his hand in yours and looks into your eyes. "i'll do anything to regain your trust.
he senses the hesitation in your eyes and honestly, he can't blame you. you've been harboring this guilt for a week and it makes sense that you're still feeling a little uncomfortable around him.
but to his surprise, you inch your way closer to him and hug his chest and the tears begin to fall. his body tenses and he feels so guilty about everything. he rubs reassuring circles on your back and kisses your head every few moments.
after you wipe your tears on his shirt, you look up at him and honestly kuroo hates to admit this but you still look gorgeous even with a tear stained face. he's grinning at you and begins to pepper your face with his kisses.
"love you to the moon and back," he whispers into your ear.
you chuckle and kiss him on the lips. "love you to the moon and back, tetsu."
in that moment, he swears to himself that he'll make sure that you never have to doubt his love for you ever again.
kozume kenma
as the ceo of his own startup company, a youtube streamer, and a college student, kenma can almost never find any time to himself. the only time he really feels at peace is either when he's asleep or when he's with you.
but sometimes things get so hectic and suffocating, he just wants to be alone, away from the world.
after a long day of classes, you walk into your shared apartment and you can hear kenma talking from his bedroom/home office. you try to keep quiet not disturbing him.
in hopes of cheering him up, you decide what better way to do so by making his favorite food: apple pie. you put down your stuff on the living room couch, grab the apron, and get to work.
kenma stays locked up in his bedroom for the majority of time that you're baking and a part of you just hopes that maybe he'll come out to just say "hi" or just accompany you to see what you're up to but unfortunately he doesn't.
after the pie is done baking in the oven and you've brought him a slice so he can get some food in his system because you're sure he hasn't been taking care of himself. you're hoping that maybe, just maybe, the both of you will finally get to spend some time together.
you knock on the door twice.
no response.
you knock once more and call out his name, "kenma, you busy still?"
still no response.
you sigh, realizing there was no hope in knocking, and decide to twist the knob and enter his room. you're greeted with the sight of him sitting on his gaming chair, knees to his chest, headphones over his ears, and slightly biting the eraser top of his pencil.
he must have felt the presence of someone else in the room with him because he looked away from his computer screen and his eyes widened. he slid his headphones off his ear and hung them around his neck.
"how long have you been home?" he bluntly asks.
"for an hour or two now, i think," you reply.
“oh sorry, i didn’t see you,” he mumbles.
you chuckle in response. “i didn’t think you would considering you’ve been cooped up in your room the entire time.”
“well yeah,” he says. “i’m busy.”
as he’s about to put his headphones back on and get back to work, you speak up. “i know you’re busy but do you wanna eat with me? i made-”
“can we talk later? i don’t have time for your clinginess right now.”
oh.
he puts his headphones on and indulges himself back in his work, not even registering the weight of his words.
you slowly walk out of his room, silently close the door, grab yourself a slice of apple pie originally made for the both of you, and plop yourself on the couch to watch some new show on the television.
after working for nearly hours on end, kenma finally finishes the load of work he had piled. now all he wants to do is just spend some time with you before going to bed. he walks out of the bedroom and is greeted by you asleep with the television humming in the background.
he can't help but let a small smile envelop his features. it's such a domestic sight and he wants to photograph this moment in time.
he knows he said some harsh words to you out of frustration but he hopes that you understand that he didn’t truly mean them.
he goes over and kisses your forehead and he smells the distinctive scent of apple pie and his heart softens at the thought that you made him his favorite food.
he goes over to his bedroom, grabs a blanket and lays it over you and goes under the blanket, snuggling himself closer to you. he hasn't felt this relaxed in a while and your presence is just so comforting to him.
he doesn't know what he'd do without you.
the next morning, you wake up and find yourself in an awkward position and your feel arms wrapped around your torso. you look to your left and are greeted by kenma's sleeping figure and you can't help but smile.
but you remind yourself of what he told you yesterday and you silently get up from the couch and begin to get ready for the rest of your day.
his words, "i don't have time for your clinginess right now", really had sent you into a spiral last night and you were too exhausted to think clearly. did you always come off as clingy to him? you were definitely a bit more energetic and enthusiastic than him but you never thought it was clingy?
you can't seem to think straight so you decide to maybe go out for a walk, just to take your mind off things. you just need some time alone, away from your apartment with him.
kenma wakes up only a few minutes later and he feels cold. his neck is sore, considering how he slept in an uncomfortable position because he wanted to sleep with you. however, to his surprise, he doesn't find you asleep next to him.
as he walks around the house, calling your name, a sense of urgency begins to form in the pit of his stomach.
he dials your number and it goes to voicemail.
he does it again. still voicemail.
he's about to call you one more time until he hears the jangle of keys and the door opening. a sigh of relief leaves his mouth and as you're about to turn your keys to open the door, he's a step ahead of you, opening the door for you.
"oh my god, i thought you went missing," kenma hugs you, catching you by surprise. "where'd you go?"
hesitant to reply, you say, "oh just went on a walk, that's all."
"you should've told me, we could've gone together," he states. "i feel like we haven't seen each other in forever."
"it's fine. don't worry about it."
there's something wrong and he can sense it in your demeanor. as you're heading to the master bedroom, he can see the way your shoulders slump as you put your keys back. he doesn't address your distant behavior, thinking that you're just having a rough morning and it'll get better as the day goes on.
unfortunately, it doesn't get better.
you seem to be fine but you just feel incredibly distant.
kenma's been playing games in his room all day and unlike usual, you're not in his bedroom watching him play or sitting on the bed scrolling through your phone. his gaming experience isn't the same when you're not there.
he pauses his game and goes out to the living room to see you lying down on the couch, scrolling through videos on your phone. he wants to ask why you're not staying with him but he doesn't want to make overstep your boundaries, especially since it seems like you're not in a good mood.
but that's anything from what you want.
you want him to ask you to stay in his room and keep you company. but because he hasn't done so, his word "clingy" began to scream louder in your head and to be frank, that's the only thing roaming in your head.
"do you want to do anything today?" he asks. "you know.. because it's the weekend and we can go out if you want? like going out to eat?"
a part of you began to feel guilty considering he was thinking about what you wanted to do and you hated feeling like a burden towards him. he already expressed his disapproval with you when he said he found you clingy so you didn't want to impose any further.
"no it's okay," you reply, eyes glued to your phone. "i don't want to annoy you or anything.. so i'll just go on my own or something..."
he hums in response but his eyebrows furrow as he doesn't seem to move from his spot. he can tell there's something wrong and you're obviously being very dodgy with him about the subject which is why he decides to take a seat on the couch and snatch your phone from your hands before you can even register what's happened.
"hey give me back my phone!" you sit up, stretching yourself over to grab your phone back from him in a failed attempt.
"not until you tell me what's wrong," he says flat.
you sigh, knowing that this conversation isn't inevitable. you can't avoid him forever "you called me clingy yesterday, kenma. sorry that i don't really want to hang out with you right now."
the words that leave your mouth have kenma in a state of shock. you took that seriously? you really thought he meant that? in order to ease his busy day of meetings back to back, you came home baked him some apple pie to ease him from his stresses.
and what did he do in return? called you clingy when you just wanted to spend some well-deserved time with him. god, he was being so ungrateful. his body fills with guilt when he he realizes you took his comment to heart.
“honey, i-” he starts and then is cut off with your words.
"i understand where you were coming from, i like to show my affection with you through physical touch and i know you’ve never been one to really reciprocate that," you begin to ramble. "so i’m really sorry for pushing your boundaries and i’ll give you the space that you need."
guilt is eating him away and he needs to clear the air now, otherwise you might be closed off forever and he’s not sure if he’s ever going to be able to reconnect with you.
“y/n, honey, don't apologize for this. it’s not your fault at all,” he starts. he puts down the phone onto the couch and grabs both of your hands and squeezes them assuringly. “i'm sorry for pushing you away and calling you clingy. you didn't.. you never deserve to be told that."
his hand finds its way to your cheek and he begins to rub comforting slow circles. seeing the sullen look on your face made him realize that he never wants to see you like this ever again. it was like you had lost the light in your eyes. kenma hated how he had diminished that so quickly by making you think that he didn't like your company.
he loves you so much; he could never imagine what life would be like without your presence.
a small smile begins to creep back on to your face and kenma finds himself in a slight sense of relief.
"it's okay," you finally utter out. "do you wanna watch that new episode? apparently there is so much drama now and i'm avoiding socials so i don't get spoiled..."
he chuckles, "i'll do anything with you."
he knows that he can't take back his words from before but as he's sitting on the couch with you in his embrace, he knows he can show you his love through his actions. he'll do anything to bring back that trust to you.
© tetsumie 2023 all rights reserved
#haikyuu#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu drabbles#haikyuu comfort#kuroo tetsuro x reader#kuroo x reader#kuroo tetsuro drabble#haikyuu kuroo#kuroo tetsuro x you#haikyuu angst to fluff#haikyuu fluff#kuroo tetsurou#kuroo x y/n#kuroo x you#kuroo testuro#kenma x reader#kenma kozume#hq kenma#kenma x you#kenma x y/n#hq x reader#haikyuu x you#haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader
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just thinking about kuroo as a father.
he'd be so doting for his baby, so in love and so infatuated with it.
he'd never fail to smother it with his love, never failing to peck soft kisses on it's forehead or cheeks, whispering little "so cute,"s or "my baby."
his bonding time with the baby was all the time, he enjoyed the little moments where his baby would just lay against his chest, sleeping softly.
he'd take note of every single detail of his baby, his hands poking and proding at the soft chubs. he had obsession with his baby's hands, he thought it was so adorable—the way the baby's hands were so small and chubby in comparison to his much bigger hands.
he would swoon in secret about the little resemblance the baby had from you, saying things like "you look just like your mommy," or "look you have you mommy's [x]~"
you would sleep soundly at night, it was rare when you would wake up for night duty, because he was always eager to spend that precious late night alone time with the baby–even if he was on the verge of passing out from exhaustion.
a few times, out of curiosity, he lightly bit his baby's cheek, just because he thought since it was chubby and soft, that it would maybe taste good.
his baby's laughs were just a beautiful melody to his ears, he would never get sick of hearing the sweet coos and incoherent words from his baby.
at some point, at night, he began to cry while holding the baby. he just couldn't help his overwhelmed feelings of happiness. he couldn't be any happier being with you; and now the two of you even had a baby together?
heaven.
he'd raise his baby with curiosity, always answering his child's questions even if they were stupid or nonsense. he'd then follow it up with a question of his own, creating a cycle of more curiosity and questions.
he'd be there for every soccer game, for every championship, for every event, you name it, and he's there.
he'll happily exclaim "that's my kid right there!", even if he comes off as obnoxious and snobby.
he couldn't careless about how loud he was, he just needed everyone to know that his child would forever be his greatest thing to ever happen to him.
#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu smut#haikyuu#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu!! smut#haikyu x reader#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu pregnant#haikyuu angst#kuroo testuro#kuroo tetsuro x reader#kuroo tetsurō#kuroo x kenma#haikyuu kuroo#kuroo tetsurou#kuroo smut#kuroo x reader#kuroo angst#hq kuroo#kuroo fluff#⨳ family dream
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Broken Promise
pairing: bf!kuroo tetsurou x fem!reader
warning: hurt/comfort, swearing, argument, kuroo being a bit of an asshole
wc: 1.2k
genre: angst to fluff
summary: kuroo forgot about the anniversary reservation that the couple had set up for their 4 year anniversary. Y/n was hurt by it, but kuroo made up on the act of his doing.
Kuroo always had a passion for volleyball. It was his pride, his ego, his priority, and his everything. However, he's was always coming home late, missing date nights, and even certain events. He never showed up on one after his volleyball career started to take off. As of today, it was the couples 4th anniversary. She was happy that Kuroo decided to take off the day early at 5, to which the reservation at the new fancy restaurant was at 7. Y/n decided to get there early to settle in on the menu first. To her surprised, it was 7:20 pm. He was still not there. She waited as people who looked so luxurious, and fancy staring at her with pitiful looks as if wondering why is a lonely women like Y/n sitting there. She felt embarrassed, at the fact that her 4 long year boyfriend didn't show up. "Excuse me?" Y/n calls out for the waiter. "Can I get the check?" She asked. "Of course, here you go." The waiter smile handing her the check, while Y/n payed and left.
Arriving home, she felt embarrassed. Unzipping the dress as it fell down to her knees. She grabbed a pair of shirts and pajama pants before heading to the bathroom, washing off the make up off. Y/n slowly walked down the stairs afterwards, meeting him in the hallway. "Where were you?" Y/n asked as she was barely near the brick of tears. "Tetsu... where were you?" She asked again, as Kuroo sighed and explained, "I was at work like always." He groaned in annoyance. "Did you forget that we had dinner reservations at 7?" Her eyebrows furrowed into anger. "Sorry that I missed the dinner, but listen. I was busy okay. You already know I'm busy." Kuroo continues. "That doesn't make up the chances of you skipping a special day for us!" She yelled as the anger raised up into the air. "I'm not doing this shit right now." Tetsuruo sighs. "You said that you'll be home by 5 to be able to go to dinner with me. But you lied. You lied Tetsu!" She cried, anger only slipping out of her mouth.
"It was just one mistaken missing. I'm sorry that I couldn't be able to go because I have a god damn fucking life. I'm sorry that I have to deal with practice every fucking day!" He yelled back. Frustration, anger, and nothing but annoyance filled his facials. "That doesn't mean anything Tetsu." She spoke on a softer tone. "I shouldn't even be apologizing. You should be great full enough that I spend my hard working money on you. I made sure there was food for you. I even made sure there was a roof for your dumbass to fucking live. I don't need to be going to every single fucking date or dinner reservations you set up!" He explained with venom. He kept ranting with so much anger and venom in his sense of tone. Until that certain little sob that slipped out of her mouth.
Kuroo paused from his words and looked up. Eyes widen to see tears that he cause on his lovers eyes. He took a step forward, only for her body to swift back. "Bab-" Y/n ran off to the shared bedroom before hearing his words. Silence was surrounding the atmosphere in the hallway. Kuroo fucked up. He was going isane at the moment. He was reviewing the words that broke his girlfriend's heart. He couldn't believe the fact that he broke the promise he made with her. Pulling out his phone to realize that it was June 16th. The day of their anniversary. The day they made it official as a couple. The day he promised to always be by her side and not hurt her. But, the day when he broke the promise and every bits of pieces in the relationship. Kuroo couldn't understand himself. He couldn't see why he didn't make the effort for the relationship. He just couldn't think a single thing to the reason why the situation is like this. Sighing to himself with guilt and regret building up, he finally made it to the shared bedroom. Opening the door to see his lover only hugging herself, fast asleep. He smiled for second, but it faded away, seeing the dried stripes of tears on her face.
The next morning happened to come around. It was tense the next morning, but to Y/n's surprise. She saw Kuroo home instead of volleyball practice. "Good morning," Tetsuruo smiled from the kitchen as to preparing breakfast for the two. "Are you hungry?" He asked. "Yeah." She replied shortly. She didn't understand why he was home instead of at work. "Baby," Tetsuruo started. "Hmm?" She hummed, with a peice of bread in her mouth. "If you're wondering why I'm not at work is because... I took the whole week off. I'm really sorry about what I said to you last night. I know I can't be forgiven about it, but I'm sorry, really sorry about skipping the anniversary date. Things got caught up that I lost track of time, and it slipped out of my mind." His voice cracked thinking about the way he's been treating her. "Tetsu.." Y/n called out. "I know I'm not the best boyfriend, but trust me. I'll be better. I promise, and I won't break this promise. I'll treat you better, even though I know for a fact that I don't deserve you." He cried. Y/n stood up, rushing over to him.
"Tetsu... you may be busy, but I felt lonely. I missed my tetsu. I missed the way he would come home early and on time for dinner to have with me. Fun fact, I felt embarrassed when I went to our reservation for our 4 year anniversary. But... I miss the most was you. My kuroo Tetsuruo. The man I love." She complies with a smile cupping his cheeks. "Tetsu. I know that things can get out of hand, but maybe next time communicate with me. Next time, tell me if practice is going to take a while for you, and that you'll come home late. I don't wanna have the feeling of being worried about you, and wondering if you've eaten or not. I wanna know what's happening so I could keep update on you. I'll forgive you, however, the trust that I put on you has broken. And you're going to have to bring it back if you wanted things to be settled down and good for us. I love you, I really do, but the trust isn't there anymore." Y/n softly said as to removing her hand away from his cheek.
"I'll get it back, I promise. I'll be the better person in our relationship. I promise princess." He hugged her. She smiled, her arms wrapping around the man and nuzzled her nose into the crook of his neck. "Let me make up on the missing anniversary date." He suggested, "okay." She whispered.
#haikyuu angst#kuroo testuro#kuroo tetsuro angst#kuroo tetsuro x reader#kuroo tetsurou#kuroo x reader#kuroo x reader angst#haikyuu x reader#nekoma#haikyuu fluff#angst to fluff#angst to comfort
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hi there!! you have wonderful work :) i was wondering if you could write for akaashi, kuroo, and atsumu with a girlfriend who finds out her friends are fake (talking crap, bullying her, etc.). i just wanna know what the boys would do about it. im sorry if this is too specific!
a/n: AHHH my first request!! Don't worry anon, this isn't too specific :), thank you hsjdhsjahdj
Fake Friends
Includes: Akaashi, Kuroo, Atsumu (separately) x Fem!reader
cw: cussing, bullying, spitting, hitting, hair pulling, slapping, implied slapping, corny chemistry joke.
Akaashi wasn't too concerned about friendships, relationships, or anything of the like. That's what he used to think, until he met you.
Before he met you, he would walk home alone, he would only hang out with his team when they celebrated a win. But now he has someone to walk with him, someone to hold when he needs the comfort. He has someone who he can rant to when he needs to.
Those few things are the reasons why he loves you so much. But he wonders if he's ever going overboard when ranting to you. He never hears your side of things, he never hears you complain about things. He wonders why. Maybe you're just not comfortable with sharing?
He finds out the reason after just a few days of worrying.
Akaashi came to pick you up from your class, ready to walk you to your next like usual. But he hears some noises, which isn't out of the ordinary. But he hears girls saying mean things, almost like they're patronizing someone.
And when Akaashi opens the door a little wider, not enough to be seen but enough to see what is going on, he sees you. You're at your seat, head down while your hair covers your face. Three girls surround you.
One points her finger at you, "what gives you the right to think you can blow us off?" She gives you a stern look. But this wasn't something a friend would say, no. She said it in a vial and cruel tone.
"You should know by now that you're nothing but a dog for us."
Another girl laughs at the statement, her hand covering her lips as she looks down at you. The third girl sits on the desk facing you.
"Answer me, you bitch!" The first girl grabs your hair, which makes you look up at her. Tears are flowing down your cheeks.
"Aww, she's crying. Fucking pathetic." The girl sitting on the desk starts laughing at seeing your tears. She puts her hand out, showing her rings to your face, "come on, mutt. You know what to do."
Just as you're about to lean forward to kiss her rings, Akaashi stalks towards the girls and slaps the girl's hand out of your face. He has an angry expression on his face, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips in a straight line.
"What gives you the right to treat my girlfriend like a dog?!"
Akaashi clenches his jaw. He's seen enough, no wonder why you were always so quick to do something for him. You're used to this kind of treatment.
You look to the side, eyes wide at the seen in front of you. "Keiji, it's not what you think!" Akaashi's head snaps over to you, are you really defending these girls? How long have you been accustomed to this kind of behavior?
But Akaashi doesn't respond, he only grabs your hand and leads you out to the hallway. "Those aren't your friends. Do you understand?"
You can only nod in response, your eyes brimming with tears, afraid that he's mad at you now. But Akaashi pulls you into his chest, hiding your face from anyone who passes.
"Don't let people like that control you, Y/n. You're too good for that."
Kuroo had a goofy smile on his face, ready to tell you another science joke. He knows you hate them, that you cringe every time you hear one. But you still smile at him, you still laugh at his stupid jokes.
He rounds the corner, about to make it down to your street, but he catches sight of five people on the sidewalk in front of him.
Two boys and two girls surround another person that is sitting on the ground. They all have a big smile on their faces as they yell at the fifth person. Kuroo isn't one for confrontation, when he sees something like this happening, he usually just threatens to call their parents or something of the like.
But as he walked closer, he realized that you're the one on the ground, a big, ugly handprint on your cheek. Your head is down, tears streaming down your face. Kuroo can't even imagine how you managed to fall to the ground.
All thoughts leave his mind when he sees one of the boys lean down and spit on your shirt. Kuroo's eyes widen, and he grits his teeth. Did that scumbag really just do that?!
"What makes you think you can be with Kuroo?" He hears one of the girl's voices shouting at you. She points her finger at you and sneers, "did you get with him because you knew I like him? Answer you ugly whore!"
Kuroo grows tired from hearing these words. He walks over to the scene, but not before hearing an insult from one of the boys.
"You're such a fucking pig. Always stealing guys, you'd really let anyone use you, huh." He laughs.
Kuroo starts walking faster, and once he gets to the scene, he grabs the guy's shirt, pulling him back and pushing him. The guy falls to the floor and looks up, he glares at Kuroo.
But before anyone can try to throw a punch or slap, Kuroo grabs your hand and takes off, running down the street.
Once you both get to a safe and secluded place, he immediately pulls you into a hug. Your tears start flowing down your face as you hug him back.
"Carbon and hydrogen went on a date. I heard they really bonded."
You pull back from the hug and playfully slap Kuroo's chest, "'s stupid." He smiles when he hears you laugh through the tears.
You never thought you would be dating Astumu Miya. You always thought his fangirls were a bit too much, and maybe they'd even threaten you.
But now you're having the time of your life because of him. Every worry ceases to exist when you're around him. He just has that effect on you.
But that doesn't mean his fangirls wouldn't try to hurt you in any way.
Over the time your relationship started, you gained new friends. You didn't recognize them as Astumu's fangirls, so your worries were unfound. Oh, how wrong you were.
One of his fangirls, Hana, managed to squeeze her way into your life. She was nice at first, gaining your trust, making you feel good around her. She was so nice that you considered her your best friend.
But once she gained your trust, she immediately turned against you. She would copy you, steal your clothes when she slept over, blame you for things that aren't your fault - she would do everything in her power to make you feel horrible.
Astumu didn't catch wind of this problem until a few months after it started. At first, he thought that you two were super close. He thought that someone was on your side.
But he knew he was mistaken when he started noticing the signs of her behavior changing. One of the main things he noticed was when you tried to talk, she would interrupt you and start talking about her day or other trivial things. She would take credit for your ideas. She even stole the necklace that he gifted you for your third mensiversary.
Astumu could only sit back and watch you let this happen. He knew that you didn't have many friends, so you didn't want to lose her.
But after a few more months, he knew that he had to put a stop to this. He knew when he saw you looking at yourself in the mirror after your 'friend' told you to lose some weight.
"Astumu would look better with someone who doesn't look like," she paused, "that."
While you were talking to Astumu in your bedroom, he comes over frequently, with your 'friend.' She interrupted you again as she stood up and smiled at him.
"Y/n, just stop talk-"
She was cut off by Astumu's glare, his jaw clenched, and his eyebrows furrowed. He looked pissed, and the girl had her eyes widened at his expression.
"When my girl speaks, you sit and fucking listen."
His tone was harsh, cruel, making the girl sit immediately.
But she couldn't listen to another word, she was scared out of her mind. She huffed and stormed out of your bedroom, grabbing her coat and shoes as she ran off.
protective men protective men protective men protective men!!!! HGSHGHASG
I love when men are protective of their woman!!!
#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu#haikyū!!#akaashi fluff#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu angst#hq akaashi#akaashi keiji#akaashi x reader#haikyuu akaashi#hq kuroo#kuroo tetsurou#kuroo x reader#kuroo tetsuro x reader#nekoma#akaashi#miya astumu#hq astumu#inarizaki#fukorodani
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kiss me maybe:
summary: finding a flier for the volleyball's kissing booth was surprising for two reasons. a) kuroo had created one of the worst fliers known to mankind and b) oikawa tooru, the school's resident pretty boy was capitalizing off the rumors surrounding him. still, you couldn't deny your attraction to the setter, and he couldn't hide that you were the only one he wanted to kiss
pairing: oikawa tooru x g!n reader
word count: 12.6k (please give this a chance)
genres + themes: college!au, sort of friends to lovers(?), fluff, angst, kuroo being an occasional menace, iwaizumi being the sexiest friend you can have, kiyoko being an icon, romanticized college experience, oikawa being an idiot but yours
warnings: cursing, a tad suggestive in some parts, absolutely not proofread
a/n: hi there i am back with a long fic. anyways this thing is my lovechild and probs the most fanfic thing ive written. its really just a fluff monster (lol) and i hope you give this a chance <3 also dedicated to @chimielie because her stuff gave me the inspo to write ily lia thank you for being so talented
It was said that Oikawa Tooru’s kisses were mythical.
Some claimed that one press of lips from the kingly setter was like a hit of a drug, sudden in a way that sent you reeling.
To some, his kisses tasted like the finest candy, hand served on an ornate dish.
Most magically, it was claimed that a kiss from Oikawa Tooru could heal even the most broken of hearts. Just one thread through sun bronzed hair could make you forget about the most painful memories.
And of course, like any celebrity would, he knew about each and every rumor.
Naturally, you reckoned you were bound to see the dreaded flier sooner or later. It sat there still, taped onto the tiny bulletin board outside of the Organic Chemistry I room.
It was the worst godawful flier you’d ever seen in your life. In front of you was a myriad of colorful borders, and even more whimsical fonts atop of a cardstock page. It seemed to call out to you with its boldness, as if to say “kiss me” with its scrawling typography.
Mystic Kissbooth, it read in an infuriatingly ornate font. Come and kiss your woes away (and kiss ours away too – a mutually beneficial fundraiser!)
“I see you’ve seen our handiwork,” chuckled a voice. You didn’t have to turn around to recognize Kuroo, who simply leaned against the bulletin board in an attempt to catch your expression.
Not that he would. You weren’t going to give him that luxury.
“No wonder it’s such shit,” you laughed, gesturing to the list of names at the bottom, “I’m honestly ashamed to even know you.”
“Hey,” he frowned playfully, ruffling your hair as he began his signature large strides. Curse him and his stupidly long legs. “That was heavily inspired by your Canva templates…..you know….the bad ones.”
You let out a long and dragged out sigh while you followed your best friend (unfortunately) to one of the secluded benches on campus. Beneath the hustle and bustle of students as they sprinted to class, it was almost peaceful to rest your legs for just a moment.
Relaxing onto the bench, you placed your backpack at your side, creating a wedge between you and Kuroo, who’d taken the seat right next to you. He didn’t seem to mind, simply casting a grin in your direction.
For starters, you weren’t sure how to feel about the Canva invasion. Yes, it was a design platform, and yes, you’d tried (and failed sometimes) to create infographics whenever Kuroo needed a helping hand. It was just a tad surprising to discover that Kuroo had drawn his inspiration from your least successful works.
“What’s this whole thing about?” You decided on asking after a lengthy pause. Kuroo cast his gaze to meet your own, his grin almost glued into place.
“Well, not that we’re in any trouble, but the volleyball club could use some funds. We’ve been trying to set up some pretty competitive matches and practice games, but we need the fuel to do it. Oikawa thought this was a great way to make use of all the attention we have.”
“No wonder. He’s probably the most popular one on the team….though Iwaizumi is honestly the one to be looking at.”
“Rude,” Kuroo huffed, “There’s a lot of other people to be interested in, you know.”
“Hopefully you don’t mean yourself,” you chuckled, dodging a playful hit on the arm from Kuroo. “But in all seriousness, a kissing booth?” Kuroo paused for a moment, seemingly mulling over a proper response, when Iwaizumi entered your frame of vision.
There were times you wondered why Iwaizumi Hajime didn’t consider a career in modeling. From where he stood, the sunlight almost seemed to caress his skin, tanned and sun bronzed from a summer spent playing volleyball on the beach. Upon seeing you and Kuroo on the bench, he extended a quick wave before jogging over, arms flexing as he got closer.
“Stop ogling him,” Kuroo smirked, “You could stand to be a bit less obvious.”
“Shut up,” you muttered just as Iwaizumi ended his jog to stand in front of you.
“Nice to see you here,” he beamed, his eyes meeting your own, “I barely see you around these days. Did Kuroo scare you away from the club?”
“No not at all,” you smiled, moving your backpack to make space for the handsome spiker. Some of the students on the nearby path stopped to turn at the three of you, and Iwaizumi, none-the-wiser, took a swig from his water bottle.
He was never aware of the effect he had on people. That was exactly what contributed to his charm.
“Y/N wanted to know a bit more about the booth,” Kuroo started. “I think you’d explain it better than I could.”
Iwaizumi raised a brow, “It’s just a club fundraiser. I mean, it's the only decent idea that Oikawa’s had in a while.”
“So he really was involved, huh.” You said (more to yourself than anyone else). The two men looked at you confusedly, before Kuroo finally spoke.
“You know, you always seem to get a bit fidgety whenever someone mentions Oikawa. And you always try to be away from him when you come to our practices…were the two of you involved or something? Because if you were, I am honestly offended you didn’t tell me.”
You aggressively shook your head no, warranting a chuckle from Iwaizumi. “Well, if they were, I think it’s had an impact. You start to see him for who he really is.”
The three of you laughed, choosing to enjoy the fresh breeze.
However, even despite the simple beauty of this moment, you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about the booth.
Oikawa stood at the front of the lecture hall, spinning his pen while meeting the eyes of his teammates. At his side was Kuroo’s flier, whimsically colorful in all the ways a magical kissing booth (like this one) was supposed to be.
Iwaizumi sat in the front, close enough for Oikawa to catch the teasingly judgy stares of his best friend while he waited for everyone to settle down.
Finding a free lecture hall had been no problem. All he’d had to do is smile nicely at a few eager students, verify with a few professors, and send a frantic “MEET NOW” to the club group chat.
The real problem was convincing the rest of the team of this idea in the first place.
“Hey guys,” he beamed, putting the flier down on the desk closest to him, “Thanks for showing up on such short notice. You guys are the best.”
“We didn’t come for you,” Makki snickered. “We’re just here to see what crazy justification you have for this.”
“Well,” he began, “We’ve been in the spotlight for quite some time now. A lot of us have been featured in the campus newspaper, we’ve made it onto our university’s podcast, and have you even seen the instagram fanpages for us? They’re absolutely insane. So, what better time to take advantage of this?”
“And this has nothing to do at all with the rumors?” A voice asked. Oikawa turned to meet the eyes of Semi Eita, who sat on the left corner closest to the door.
The team laughed as Oikawa shook his head in faux denial. “Absolutely not. Why would I ever do such a thing?”
“Because you're smart!” Oikawa was almost surprised to hear the remark from Bokuto, who sat near Kuroo with his own flier. “And it’s a lot of fun.”
The team murmured their respective agreements before the room fell silent again. Oikawa, ever the opportunist, slid into the silence with an explanation.
“I was thinking we set it up as sort of a de-stress day after midterms. We could get the other clubs to join in their own mini fundraisers…like a carnival of sorts. We’ll set up the booth with colorful signs and posters, and we kiss based on the cash. We can take shifts to make sure the two of us aren’t running the whole show. All proceeds are for our matches and practice games. Sounds good?”
“A question. Are you going to make people line up to kiss you?” Matsukawa asked casually.
“You mean us Mattsun. And yeah, a line works just fine.” Oikawa stopped for a moment to admire the unanimous cooperation of his team. “I’ll talk to the other club leaders and see if we can come up with a date. If that’s all the questions you’ve got, I’ll see you at practice tomorrow!”
With this, his team filed out the door. He caught Kuroo animatedly discussing a design to attract customers to their booth with Bokuto, mentioning that he had a friend who’d know just what to do about it. In the midst of his rant, he’d mentioned a name.
Yours. A name he hadn’t realized he missed hearing.
A faint smile crept onto his face at the thought.
Kuroo was a menace. From the minute he’d found you at the library, he’d been nagging you the entire day, practically begging for you to come to their practice.
“Y/N please,” he whined, attempting his own version of a pout, “If you see us, you could help design the poster to attract customers.”
“I don’t think you need help with that.” That much was true. Especially with Oikawa headlining the event. They were guaranteed strong profits.
Somehow in the midst of all this pleading, you’d ended up right outside the gym. The sounds of volleyballs hitting the wooden floors resonated off the walls, the sound so clear that you could hear it from your spot near the door.
“You planned this,” you glared, watching Kuroo’s smile twist into one of faux innocence. Bastard.
“What can I say? I am the master of distraction.” He opened the door, swapping his shoes out at the front and walking into the gym to the greetings of his team. You followed closely behind him, carefully striding across the polished wood and shutting the door behind you.
The gym had always been grand. Your university’s colors were plastered onto the bleachers, with a wide curtain separating the different sides of the gym. There was space – so much of it – and the team spread out to practice various skills.
For a brief moment, you allowed yourself the childish awe of standing in a space so big.
“I forgot how long it’s been since you’ve been here,” a voice greeted, “But it’s good to see you Y/N.”
You knew that voice. You’d know that voice like the moon knew the stars. You’d know it anywhere.
“Oikawa,” you said, turning to acknowledge the brown-haired setter. “Long time no see.”
As much as you didn’t want to, you drank him in. He seemed to be in high spirits this afternoon, hair artfully tousled in the way he always did, and lips so perfectly smooth that they seemed out of a Chapstick ad.
“You don’t really come around anymore,” He said, taking to walking with you around the gym (much to your own surprise). “I was getting a bit worried actually.”
“What do you mean?” You stared at a spot a bit beyond the setter, watching Bokuto’s cross court spike slam into the floor with dizzying speed.
“Well….we talked a bunch. And you came here at the beginning of the year. You suddenly stopped though….so I wondered if something happened.”
“You noticed?” You scoffed. “I’m surprised you paid attention.”
“Why wouldn’t I pay attention?” Oikawa raised a brow in confusion before suddenly, the answer seemed to smack him in the face. “You’re petty about that?”
“You barely paid me any mind,” was all you said, meeting Oikawa’s warm gaze, “It was like we’d never met at all.”
You’d met Oikawa Tooru on the flight to university. You’d waved your family goodbye at the gate, hugging them tight to your chest and memorizing the feel of them against you.
You walked steadily, pulling your suitcase along as you made your way to the security check in.
“Everything goes in a bag! Belts, shoes, phones! Take off your shoes and step aside. Laptops can stay in your bags! Move along!”
You hauled your suitcase into the bin, placed your phone and wallet beside it and sent it over to the TSA associate, taking a minute to place your jacket and shoes into another bin and sending that over too.
The gray bins were plain, old and rackety and classic, comparable to a washed out 1930’s movie. You trodded through the metal detector, feeling the cold floor through your socks.
When you finally made it through check in, you were met with a TSA associate over your bag, looking straight at you as if you’d committed some heinous crime.
“Excuse me,” the TSA officer asked, gesturing to your bags, “Are these your bags?”
“Yes,” you affirmed, almost nervously. “Is there an issue?”
“You seem to have some liquid above the restricted amount. I’m going to have to take a look.”
For a moment, you were startled. What did you even bring? You’d diligently packed your belongings and made sure everything was secure….surely there had to be some mistake.
Your breath wavered the minute the officer pulled out your favorite body wash.
In the midst of your packing, you’d forgotten you’d slipped it into your carry on.
“Oh.” Your voice shook as you meant the TSA officer’s eyes, “I’m sorry. That’s my favorite one.”
“I’m sorry.” For a moment, it almost seemed like the man had sympathy for you, “But I’m going to have to ask you to pour half of it out. If you refuse that, you’re going to have to give it away.”
Every step towards the outside garbage felt like a punch to the chest. While you kept composed on the outside, pouring away half of your prized wash felt miserable.
A dying rose. A dying star. Something dying slowly and surely inside.
Now you’d have to get another one. Brand new packaging lost to your honest mistake.
This sucked ass.
You meandered through the security area again, more ghost than person and collected the rest of your belongings. While your voice wavered, you didn’t shed a tear, and simply walked along.
Somehow, in the midst of all your wandering, you ended up in the departure lounge. In front of you were an array of connected seats with their generic cushioning and the customary TV screens telling you what flight was taking off when.
The glass paneled windows to your right showcased the hangar, and from your spot, you could see planes parked out in front. The sun set down in the distance, leaving a watercolor blend of pinks and oranges in its wake.
You could almost call it picturesque.
You leaned your suitcase against a wall for a moment, scanning the lounge for an available corner. Unfortunately, your plane was packed.
The chatter of students was overwhelming, and without a choice, you settled into a seat at the far corner of the lounge next to a pretty-boy who you were certain wouldn't speak to you.
They normally never did. Why should it be any different now? And honestly, you didn’t want to talk.
“This plane is probably fully booked.” A voice (the perfect blend of warm and deep) said. You turned to meet the eyes of said pretty boy, a surprisingly lovely shade of brown. Light and bright and inviting. Almost like a mocha. Or a latte.
“Tell me about it,” you laughed, slightly amused by the novelty of the situation. It wasn’t common for pretty boys to talk to you. Even less common for you to entertain any conversation, especially when you felt the way you did. “When I waved ‘goodbye’ to my family, I wasn’t expecting this much of a crowd to tell them about.”
“Yeah?” Oikawa smiled, the corners of his mouth lifting upwards invitingly. “I was more surprised at the lack of seats.”
“You’d think they’d anticipate a college student stampede.”
Oikawa laughed, the amusement lighting up his whole face. It was a simple laugh — chiming and lovely in the way that all laughs were, but you were certain you’d do anything to hear that again.
His presence had a way of putting you at ease.
The two of you coincidentally had seats right next to each other on the flight. As the plane lifted off, you snapped a picture of the city lights, twinkling their tiny goodbyes as they faded from view.
The cabin’s lights were dimmed, yet even in the haziness, you could make out the features of the boy next to you.
High cheekbones. A defined cupid’s bow. Lips that seemed even softer than the lather of that soap you loved so much.
You’d mourn your soap later. Even if it was an object, your attachment to it simply showed a care for your belongings.
What could be more human than that?
Oikawa turned to you, gaze friendly as the plane began its mounting ascent.
“You know, the TSA can be real dicks sometimes.”
What the fuck. Who was he? A psychic?
“What did they do to you?”
“They made me pour out half my expensive hair gel. I insisted it fit the requirements but they refused to accommodate me. So mean.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at the pout he wore. It seemed even someone as vivacious as Oikawa couldn’t charm himself out of aviation regulations.
Somehow the whole thing made you feel a lot better.
You and Oikawa (Tooru as he later insisted) shared many conversations throughout the flight. Some revolved around human existentialism (with him quoting the “we were infinite” from The Perks of Being a Wallflower). Some revolved around space.
Some even revolved around clubs, with him sharing high school volleyball stories and pledging your university’s team to greatness.
When fatigue finally claimed you, the comfort of his shoulder was unmatched by anything you’d ever felt. He’d extended an invite for you to come and see them practice anytime, and laid his own head atop of yours.
Of course, when you showed up for said practice, so had a bunch of other fans. He’d barely spared you a glance, let alone spoke to you when you’d tried to seek him out.
A grand gym and an even grander boy.
You just avoided him after that.
“Im really sorry about that,” Oikawa said. While his expressions were genuine, you weren’t sure how much you were going to trust it. Certainly, in all the time you’d spent apart, he must have changed at least a bit.
To think he was the exact same boy who you met on the plane would be foolish.
“Yeah, water under the bridge.”
“No, not really.” Oikawa paused to study your expression. Beneath all of your nonchalance was something fragile. Admiration? Loathing? He doubted it. “How long did you plan on avoiding me?”
“As long as I needed to.” You answered matter-of-factly. “Then again, that was when I thought you’d forgotten about me.”
“How could I ever do that?” Oikawa’s expression morphed into a worried one, eyebrows knitted together and mouth downturned as if to say damn that’s an accusation.
“Well-“
“Look I meant to seek you out after that day. I saw you there, wanted to come over, but at that point you’d gone off to continue chatting with Kuroo and met Iwa. And classes exist.”
“Okay. Water under the bridge for real.”
His eyes lit up. “You mean it?”
You nodded in approval, only to be dragged away by Kuroo, who’d suddenly appeared behind you.
“What the fuck?” You yelled, not caring much for your use of profanities. Some of the nearby team members snickered as you were pulled to the corner of the gym, in front of an array of poster boards.
“What?” Kuroo asked, “You and Oikawa seem to be fine now, so I thought I could ask you some questions about stuff that really matters. Namely posters.”
You were met with various shapes and sizes of poster boards. Some were Elmers Tri-Folds. Some were the cheap foam boards you sometimes saw while grocery shopping.
“If you want a design for your freaking booth,” you began, looking at Kuroo, “Give me some time.”
Oikawa was in the podcast studio. The room was secluded, plastered with posters and heart decals of all shapes and colors. Right beside the door was a framed picture of the volleyball team, with their silly faces frozen in motion.
Shimizu Kiyoko walked out from behind the desk, nonchalantly acknowledging Oikawa with a nod. “Oikawa, what can I do for you?”
“Hey,” he winked, unaffected by her lack of reaction, “Have any idea where I can find your host. I’d like her to do me a favor.”
“Advertising.” Kiyoko said bluntly. “I don’t think your booth needs any more attention. Our socials have covered it already.”
“We always love the extra coverage.”
“Doesn’t your friend help with all the designs? I think they’d be the perfect candidate to help with all this.”
“Y/N?” He asked, almost dumbfounded by how obvious that answer was.
“Yes,” Kiyoko smiled. “They’re very nice. I’ve seen you talk a few times, though it honestly seems like they don’t like you very much.”
“Not true.” He huffed.
“Well it makes sense. Especially if the rumors are true.”
People saw Kiyoko’s beauty and shyness and mistook her for a soft and innocent podcast manager.
Anyone who’d dealt with her enough knew she was actually a force to be reckoned with.
“The rumors are whatever you make of them. I’m simply an opportunist.”
Kiyoko chuckled and for a moment, Oikawa felt accomplished. “You don’t need to tell me this. I already know.”
He leaned against the door, and stretched out his arms in front of him before resting them at his sides again. “Would you at least consider telling the main host to help us out?”
Kiyoko shuffled the papers in her hands, before meeting his eyes. “I won’t give any guarantees, but something tells me that if you do set up a de-stress carnival, your club will be the central focus of our broadcast.”
“Thank you!” He beamed, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his chest. “I could kiss you for that.”
“No thank you,” Kiyoko declined, “I’m not interested in confirming the rumors.”
As Oikawa left the studio, Kiyoko walked into the recording room, a tiny smile on her lips.
Your Canva page lay woefully blank before you.
You’d promised Kuroo a design if he gave you time and Kuroo, ever the considerate friend, actually stopped bothering you about the poster. He seemed to trust in Oikawa’s judgment, and it seemed that the rest of the volleyball club did too.
As a token of thanks, you’d come to the library, your brain and Pinterest providing you at least a vague idea of what it was you wanted to do. However, when it came time to put pen to paper (or more fittingly, hand to mousepad), it seemed that your ideas had been wiped clean.
Your disappointment felt like a leaky faucet. Despite the minuteness of the feeling, it seemed to pool the more you thought about the situation. While designing was never an obligation, you owed it to your friends.
You sighed, placing your bag onto the hardwood library table and casting your eyes outside. A slowly setting sun was what greeted you, a medley of pinks and oranges appearing onto a slowly disappearing blue sky.
How cliche. Considering one's disappointments next to a sunset.
“Y/N?” A voice called, almost saccharine in the silence of your surroundings.
And there he was. Draped in the setting sun like a painted figure, cloaked in a veil of sunlight that skimmed his skin like silk. Oikawa’s eyes were almost honey colored in that lighting, and beneath the darkened shelves, he was almost a mystical apparition.
“Oikawa,” was all you said, cursing every possible force for him appearing now, looking like that, when you barely had anything to show for it.
“Kuroo told me you’d offered to help us put together some signs for the de-stress carnival.” Oikawa walked over, stepping away from the sunlight and placing his bag down at your table, opting for a seat across from you. “Which, in case you were wondering, I got approval for. A lot of the other clubs are going to be there.”
“That’s good.” You allowed yourself a glance at him. Your pettiness had all but dissipated, but you were still wary of looking at him for too long. He was like the sun, golden and lustrous and magnetic. You weren’t quite ready to be pulled into his orbit.
“So,” Oikawa said, taking a glance at your computer screen, “Rough designing?”
“Yeah. Inspiration has been hard to find and your club is counting on me.”
“If it means anything to you, we wouldn’t have asked for you to do it if we didn’t believe in you.” You looked up to see Oikawa’s gaze set firmly on your own, as if tracking your expressions. Under his stare, you felt raw. Vulnerable. If you were a cake, and he was cutting you open.
You weren’t sure what to say.
A beat of silence permeated the space between you, and the two of you made no effort to stop it. It was somewhat comforting. Unsaid words of yours were understood by him.
“It feels like a lot of pressure,” you finally admitted, letting out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. “I want it to be worth your while.”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Oikawa was closer. His breath was soft, fanning over the side of your cheek like a secret.
“I’m not sure.” Your voice was nothing more than a whisper.
Oikawa paused for a moment, as if contemplating something before decisively placing his hand on top of yours.
For a moment, you were startled by the warmth of his palm, grounding you in some way that didn’t quite make sense to you yet. Something about this was intimate in all the ways it shouldn’t be. Amidst a darkening sky and a slowly dimming library, you could almost consider this clandestine.
You waited for the rustle of a book’s pages or the resounding footsteps of the librarian to break down the moment, but they never came.
Oikawa looked at you, seemingly memorizing your features. He said nothing, but a slight smile appeared on his face the second he spotted a stray lock of hair by your ear. You could feel your face progressively heating with every moment spent in this proximity.
Damn celebrity setters. Damn stupid stupid beautiful men who do this. Damn that Oikawa Tooru.
Gently, as if touching something fragile, Oikawa smoothed down your hair, brushing the tip of your ear with his fingertips. He held your gaze fondly before suddenly, making an incredulous face.
“What the-“ He said, looking at your hair again. “It’s back up again.” He looked at his hands in horror, as if their magic didn’t work. “Damn it, that’s not how that goes.”
You couldn’t stop the laughter from erupting out of you at his antics, You swiftly flattened that pesky strand and looked back at him, feeling the amusement pool in your chest at his dismayed expression.
“Sorry man,” you laughed, syllables coming out breathless, “Sometimes stuff doesn’t go to plan.”
Oikawa seemed like he wanted to melt into the floor, and feeling the need for some fresh air, you dragged him out of the library. Upon leaving the double doors (and air conditioning), you were met by the lit sidewalk and found the wooden benches by the line of trees.
You sat down, gesturing for him to join you.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen this one before,” Oikawa mentioned off-handedly, “I mean I’m here a lot, but I’m not sure when this was put here.”
“It’s been here…?”
Oikawa sighed, tilting his gaze to the now dark sky. “You do have an eye for good things.”
You raised a brow. “What does that even mean?”
“The stuff you make is adorable. And Kuroo’s always said that everywhere he brings us are all places you found.”
“Really?” You leaned your upper body onto the bench. “I didn’t expect credit from him.”
“He cares about you,” Oikawa said. “He gave a lot of shit when he realized that we’d talked on our plane and then not again. But I deserved that.”
“I was petty. But it’s not like I can actually walk up to you.”
“What?” Oikawa seemed puzzled, as if this was something impossible for him to fathom. “Why not? I don’t think I’m that bad.”
“Iwaizumi says otherwise.”
“Mean. But seriously, why?”
You’d forgotten how refreshing Oikawa was. Even though you were sitting on a bench, you felt practically weightless.
“Rumors,” was all you said, gesturing to him.
Understanding seemed to flash into his eyes, and slowly, like connecting pieces of a puzzle, it all fell into place. He paused for a moment before meeting your eyes with a grin.
“You know they’re just rumors right?” He smirked, “I went to a party a while back to kick off club season. There was this one girl who really wasn’t leaving me alone, so I ended up leaving. Turns out she’d told her friends that she and I made out at the party and gave me a whole lot more credit than I was expecting. Not that I mind making out, but I’m picky.”
“Picky how?” You asked, words leaving your mouth before you even had the chance to think them over.
“Picky as in there’s really only one person I’ve even wanted to kiss since I got here but haven’t got the chance to. I’m hoping they come to the booth. Just so I’ll get to know what that’s like.”
You felt a subtle twist of something in your chest, though you weren’t sure what to make of it. Of course he had his eye on somebody. It was bound to happen eventually.
“Why are you making a booth to do mass kissing then?” A valid follow up question. A guy like him could successfully pull whenever he wanted to.
“Because I’m an opportunist,” he sighed, “And I’m not even sure if I can make a move properly. I don’t function like I normally do when they’re around.”
“Of course you can. Anybody would say yes to you, Tooru.”
With this, something in him seemed to snap and he immediately pulled you closer, your faces just an inch apart. His hands were firm around your waist, and the sensation was nearly searing. You could feel everything, from his hands to his breath to even the way his eyes seemed to scan your face.
The way he looked at you now was like worship.
“What are you doing?” You whispered shakily. With him all around you you could barely breathe, let alone think.
“Making a move.” His eyes were on your lips. His hand gently left your waist to skim your arm before placing a hand on your cheek. “May I?”
Your nod was nearly imperceptible before he captured your lips in yours.
Soft, was your first thought as you felt his lips brush yours ever so lightly. You leaned into him, relishing the vaguely sweet taste of strawberry Chapstick on his lips as you swiped your tongue over his lips.
Oikawa Tooru was a mystic. His fingers tangled in your hair and his lips searched for yours as if he was a lost man and you were his savior. He traced the curve of your waist and kissed you passionately, nibbling your lips when you pulled at his shirt.
You could kiss him forever. You moved to nip at the tip of his ear, and his shaky breath had you considering if you should bite down harder. He pulled you back in and you melted into the feel of his lips and hands and the way his touch seemed to awaken something inside you.
The way he held you was reverent.
When you finally split for air, Oikawa held you close, his smile never wavering. He rubbed a thumb across your cheek, and placed a chaste kiss on your forehead.
“That was magical,” you murmured into his shirt, and you couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit happy to hear the laugh you liked so much.
You reckoned you’d be able to put together a solid design after tonight.
Oikawa had a skip in his step the following morning. He’d aced every assessment, finished all his homework, and made major breakthroughs at practice. His sets to Bokuto were so flawless that Bokuto could hardly believe he’d made those shots.
Everyone on the volleyball team was certain that something had happened, but Oikawa refused to let up.
He didn’t kiss and tell after all.
“What is up with you?” Iwaizumi asked good-naturedly, tipping back a water bottle. “You’ve been in a surprisingly good mood all morning.”
“It’s been a good day,” Oikawa smiled, offering no other details while picking up a few stray balls on the court. The gym floor seemed exceptionally shiny today. He’d be sure to thank whoever waxed the floor for their services when he could.
“Something definitely happened.” Kuroo chimed in, scrutinizing Oikawa like he was something under a microscope. “The question is what.”
“Am I not allowed to have good days?”
“No you are,” Kuroo smirked, “But a day this good only happens after a sudden surge in popularity which —last time I checked— didn’t happen, or……did you make some breakthrough?”
“With my sets, yes.”
“No,” Kuroo smiled knowingly. “I’m gonna curse them out for not telling me anything.”
Oikawa hid his surprise with a flash of indifference, though internally he cursed the middle blocker. It seemed that he was just as good at reading people as he was at read blocking.
Iwaizumi caught on almost immediately, casting his eyes to his longtime friend, who all of a sudden, was acting like a deer in headlights. He found it odd that the nature of your relationship with Oikawa had transformed seemingly overnight.
It seemed that you never truly harbored any resentment against him.
Still, he resolved to approach you about it as soon as he could.
The minute that you walked through the gym’s double doors, the entire team thought that they’d summoned you with all the prying they were doing. You hauled something large through the door and placed it against the wall, proud of yourself for the herculean effort it took to bring it through.
The minute he registered your presence, Oikawa’s face looked like a puff of cotton candy. His cheeks were rosy with all the teasing and the memories of last night, and when he saw what it was that you’d leaned against the wall, he thought he should run over and kiss you out of pride.
“Good morning guys,” you beamed, a smile so radiant that Oikawa had suddenly lost all the focus he’d had all morning.
“Morning Y/N,” Iwaizumi greeted, walking over to greet you with a hug and a slight gesture to the object that was now leaning against the wall. “Is this it?”
You nodded excitedly. “I got the inspiration to put it together last night. I think it captures the magic of the booth.”
Iwaizumi leaned to flip over the posterboard and decided that he’d never seen anything more fitting in his entire life.
The sign was a pastel wonder, a pale blue at the bottom and moving to a light pink at the top. Across the poster were small and light volleyballs, somewhat transparent against the background as if the pattern was a part of it. The borders of the poster were filled with various lip prints (and even funnier, some hidden Chapsticks).
The font at the center was a far cry from the scrawling archaic font that Kuroo had used on their initial flyers. It was a simple block font, a shade of pink with a glow filter and a pattern that made it look like a light-up sign on the part that really mattered.
The Volleyball Club presents, the poster read, written in a smaller font. Right below that, the light up letters spelled out The Mystic Kissbooth. Help kiss us to greatness.
The team crowded around the board, marveling at both its quality and its thoughtfulness.
“Y/N….” Bokuto trailed off, his eyes nearly bursting with amazement, “This is crazy!”
“Yeah,” Semi added, “This is ridiculously good. Kuroo, where the hell have you been keeping them.”
Kuroo simply crossed his arms and smiled with pride. He’d always believed in you.
Oikawa stood shell-shocked at your work, feeling all the days of preparation finally coming together. He looked at you and smiled a smile so genuine, you were glad you’d finally pulled through.
You looked to the floor bashfully for a moment before meeting the team’s eyes with renewed confidence. “Thank you. I’m glad to help.”
Iwaizumi stood at your side, smiling fondly at you before turning his gaze to Oikawa. “Hey. Oikawa. What is the deal with the de-stress carnival? When is it, where is it, and where are we setting up?”
Oikawa, still elated, looked around the gym at the team. “If you want details, I think we should call another meeting.”
”That is a great idea,” you chimed in.
“Wanna join?” Oikawa asked (hopefully).
”I’m sorry, I don’t think I can. I’ve got a date with Kiyoko.”
The team went silent. “You have a what?!”
The evening hues only made Kiyoko more beautiful. She was dressed casually, wearing classic blue jeans, a tank top, and a cardigan that only accentuated her figure. When she saw you approaching her, a smile appeared on her face instantaneously.
“Y/N!” She greeted, “It’s good to see you.”
You jogged up to her and pulled her into a friendly hug. “It’s good to see you too!”
You and Kiyoko fell into step naturally, opting to have dinner at one of your favorite places outside of campus. It was a quick walk from where you’d chosen to meet up, and in such good weather, it was a crime not to spend more time together.
“I have a lot to tell you about,” Kiyoko began, “Starting with Oikawa Tooru. He showed up in my room and asked for the host. He’s got to know it’s me right?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, “I know you use a modulator to stay under wraps so people take the podcast seriously, but he’s had a very good track record for being perceptive.”
“That’s a pain” she sighed, “I hope he’s not going to spread it around.”
“He won’t,” you assured her, “Oikawa can understand rumors better than anyone.”
Kiyoko smiled relievedly, though she raised a brow at the mention of rumors. “Are those true?”
You fought the heat that seemed to emerge onto your face the minute she mentioned that. You just hoped it would go unnoticed by her.
Her blue eyes, unfortunately, were just as perceptive as they were pretty.
She smirked, crossing her arms and stopping on the sidewalk path. “When did that happen?”
“Don’t worry about it. Let’s keep walking.” You wish your voice had come out more strongly than a murmur.
“When?”
“Last night.” Damn Kiyoko for getting answers out of you.
“And…?” She raised her brows expectantly.
“Rumors are baseless but I confirm them. He is magical.”
“I ought to say something about that,” she giggled, and you wanted to bury yourself into your hands to avoid her teasing.
“Shush.”
The two of you had a lovely dinner and opted to grab a quick drink from the speciality beverage store next door. Kiyoko grabbed a strawberry milkshake and you opted for a tropical fruit floater that they’d just created. Thanks to Kiyoko, both drinks were on the house.
She nursed the straw between her lips and took a drag of her milkshake before meeting your eyes. “I have some information on the de-stress carnival.”
You urged her to continue, and Kiyoko did.
“Looks like Oikawa and the other members of clubs decided to officially name it the Cool Down Carnival. They’re just going to refer to it as Cool Down for ease. They’re planning to organize it the Saturday after midterms and they’ve been working on concessions like cotton candy, caramel apples, popcorn, and a whole boatload of stuff. Administration is also totally fine with this.”
“Wow,” was all you could say as a response. You were honestly impressed with Oikawa. He put so much thought and care into a silly rumor that had transformed into one of the school’s biggest upcoming events. He was an alchemist of opportunities, taking a rumor of lead and transforming it to gold.
“Yeah,” Kiyoko nodded, “I’ll get social media to cover it for me. So far, nobody doubts that I’m the manager of the ‘Cast, so it should be fairly reasonable for me to do.”
“Out of curiosity, do you know anything about how they’re planning to do the shifts of the booth?”
“All I know for certain is that Oikawa said he probably wasn’t gonna do a headlining shift…or a shift at all. A lot of the other members were perfectly fine with taking this on, but there has been some backlash.”
He was planning on not headlining the booth?
Your heart was suddenly very warm and fuzzy in your chest.
Kiyoko knowingly smiled at you before tipping at the front register and dragging you outside. The breeze was oddly pleasant, something a bit uncommon for this time of year. It was approaching colder weather, but it felt nearly spring-like.
“The weather isn’t making sense,” you said, enjoying the feeling of freedom that came with nighttime out.
“It hasn’t been making sense,” Kiyoko smiled, “We’re anticipating a fresh fair.”
Springs and falls blended together. You found a beautiful leaf on the sidewalk and pressed it to your palm, preserving the feel and look in your memory.
“I’m looking forward to it,” you’d finally tell Kiyoko as you parted ways, meaning each and every word.
When Oikawa had showed up at your doorstep in the morning, your sleep-addled brain could barely fathom the reason as to why he would do such a thing.
That was, until he walked into your room carrying breakfast in a brown bag.
“Good morning Y/N.” He said, voice still slightly raspy from a good night of sleep. (You weren’t going to forget how that sounded forever).
You greeted him with a morning greeting of your own and sat on your bed, stretching your limbs and analyzing the boy who—at this present moment—seemed like the happiest guy on earth.
“Feel free to help yourself,” Oikawa grinned, grabbing a bagel and a pack of cream cheese from the bag. “I have some updates for you.”
“Does it have to do with the Cool Down?” You walked over to the bag and grabbed something you liked from the inside.
“Wow. How did you know about the name?”
“I have my sources,” you winked.
Oikawa simply laughed. “I know it’s Kiyoko dumbass. She’s one of the sneakiest podcast hosts of all time.”
“So you do know.”
“Obviously.” Oikawa lounged on the chair in your corner. “Nobody else is ever working in that office. She should get some people to join her.”
You nodded and shifted to sit next to him on the couch. His warmth was a surprisingly pleasant addition into the morning, and you found yourself leaning into him. He didn’t make any move to stop it, opting to pull you in and place his arm over you.
“We have classes soon,” you said groggily, “But I don’t want to move.”
“We don’t have to right now.”
“Thanks Tooru.”
“Of course, Y/N.” He smiled. “Though we do have an afternoon meeting on how to divide the shifts. I’m not sure what we’re going to be doing about me.”
You suddenly felt a lot more awake. You shifted your weight onto your unsupported arm and looked up at Oikawa. “Are you planning to take a shift?”
Oikawa shifted nervously in his seat. “I’m not sure. I may have to for the sake of demand. Everyone is expecting me to live up to the expectation. I think we would be less successful without my involvement.”
You felt a twist of something. Not jealously, but not comfort either. Something between the two. You rose away from Oikawa, walking over to the opposite side of the room where your bed was and met his eyes.
“Do you really have to?” you asked, feeling partially unfair. There was nothing official between the two of you at the moment, but you’d thought after the kiss two nights ago…..you thought you had a chance.
“I might,” he gulped, “But you know you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted to kiss.”
You sighed exasperatedly. “I know that you came up with this as a business opportunity and because you thought we’d never…get anywhere, but a long shift is going to be a lot of people.”
“I know,” he sighed, meeting your eyes with an expression in his own that looked a lot like sadness. “But the fundraiser might just have to come first for now— no that’s not what I—“
“Please leave,” you said, voice wavering a bit, “I don’t want to deal with the whole priorities thing right now. We can say we kissed once for fun. Headline it if you must. Later Oikawa.”
You turned away from him and walked towards your closet to find appropriate clothes for the day. You couldn’t even stand to look at him right now. Things would become too complicated for you to handle.
“Y/N, I’m really sorry.” Oikawa said from behind you, “That is genuinely not what I meant.”
You turned to face him again, not even able to meet his eyes. “There’s got to be some semblance of truth in what you said earlier. You love your team Oikawa. They are important. I don’t expect you to throw away opportunities for me. We’re not even dating.” You laughed dryly. “I’d like a bit of space. We can talk a bit later.”
Oikawa seemed like he had a lot more to say, but he wordlessly slipped out of the door, leaving your room noticeably empty.
Once he’d left for certain, you collapsed onto the floor and let loose the dam of tears you’d held in for so long.
When Iwaizumi found you in the library, he knew immediately that something was wrong. Your eyes were reddened ever so slightly, covered over by a splash of cold water to the face (most likely), and your usual cheerfulness when you greeted him was a lot less lively.
He took the seat beside you, surprised by your lack of response.
”Hajime,” you said softly, turning over to smile sadly at him, “Good to see you here.”
Correction: something was horrifically wrong.
“What happened?” He asked softly, wondering what was enough to dampen your normally resilient spirit.
“Fucking Oikawa,” you laughed sarcastically, “Look at me saying I’d never get caught up in his web, and then doing exactly that.”
Iwaizumi wrinkled his brow. That day on the bench, he’d known enough to discern that you and Oikawa had some sort of history. That much continued to be made obvious by Oikawa’s constant urge to see you and include you in everything that he and Kuroo didn’t think was important enough to invite you to.
However, he wasn’t sure when you and Oikawa became more than a past set of acquaintances….and that stung a little. He understood your reasoning though. Especially if it was as complicated as you seemed to feel at the moment.
“Were you guys dating?”
“No.” You turned to face him in full, and he was struck by the magnitude of just how magnetic you were. Iwaizumi was guilty of being stuck in your orbit. “Just a kiss. Because he sweet talked me into thinking he wanted something.”
“Knowing him, he probably did.” Iwaizumi said, “Oikawa has a tendency to be obsessive to get what he wants, but also be blinded by obligations. This was definitely about him headlining the booth, right?”
You nodded, feeling a sudden tightness in your throat at the thought. You weren’t ready to confront the morning’s events quite yet.
“That dumbass,” Iwaizumi groaned, “If he’d told us that he liked you and had actually managed to make a move we would’ve gladly taken his shift! Who gives a fuck about what the college body wants? Half of them thirst over everyone!”
You laughed a bit at the truth of that statement. “Yeah, and Kiyoko told me she was also planning on making a little appearance.”
At this Iwaizumi raised his brow. “Oh that’s about to be carnage.”
“Absolutely,” you giggled, “Who knows? Maybe you’ll be the lucky person.”
Iwaizumi laughed, a sound that was low and sweet and comforting. “I think I’ll leave it to some of the other boys. They deserve a chance after all.”
The two of you grinned at the mental imagery of the team fighting for a chance to interact with your beautiful friend, and suddenly, Oikawa’s shittiness seemed like something far less relevant.
Still, even with the humor of the situation came the very uncomfortable realization that you and Oikawa–-whatever you were–-were done if you didn’t come to some consensus.
You shoved your hands into your face, wondering how the hell you’d managed to go from avoidant and unattached to too attached. Maybe the rumors had some merit. A kiss from Oikawa was all that it took to get so jumbled.
Iwaizumi’s warm palm on your back was what brought you back to your senses. He rubbed his slow circles and sat there patiently until you emerged from your cover of shame.
“What am I going to do?” you asked, voice raw and vulnerable and everything you’d rather it not have been.
“Whatever you want to do.” Iwaizumi’s gaze was genuine, soft eyes studying you. “You’re entitled to your own decisions. Kuroo and I would never ditch you for Shitty you know.”
“It’s for the team,” you whispered, feeling tears threatening to spill over your cheeks. Your vision was hazy, and you blinked slowly to clear the water from your eyes. “So then why do I feel like this?”
“Because you care about him, Y/N.” Iwaizumi squeezed your shoulder affectionately, “You and him clearly bonded on some intergalactic level, so having that be suddenly shattered in favor of something seemingly less important is going to feel like shit. In fact, he is the real piece of crap here.”
“The team matters.”
“The team is all about relationships.” Iwaizumi said firmly. “I have a hunch there’s someone in this tournament that he needs to beat. That’s why he’s been obsessively orchestrating the perfect way to raise money to have a practice match beforehand. Still, I won’t deny it. Oikawa is an idiot for doing this to you. You have all the rights to move on with your life.”
“I think I’m gonna take my space from him for a few days,” you eventually responded. “I think I’ll also not visit the booth. I’ll give Kuroo the sign in advance so he can help with setting up?”
Iwaizumi nodded solemnly. “If that’s what you need to do, I’ll be your number one supporter. I’d still love it if you could stop by though. We love having you around.”
You nodded at him. “I’ll be there for you and Kuroo. Always. And you guys can hang out with me at the Cool Down when you’re off shift.”
“Of course,” Iwaizumi smiled, “For you? Anything.”
“How do you say, ‘I’m angry’ in French?” The ping of the recording microphone tapped on as Oikawa paced quickly around his room.
“Je suis fâché.”
“How do you say, ‘I like to go out with my friends’ in French?”
“J’aime sortir avec mes amis.”
“How do you say, ‘I went to my friend’s house’ in French?”
“Je ne veux pas continuer.”
“Oui Monsieur. À Bientôt!” His phone’s recording feature switched off, leaving him in a silent room once again.
He was regretful, so much so that he paced around in his room in the hopes that it would give him some sort of clarity. As much as he wanted to approach you, he knew you weren’t ready to talk to him right now.
“Shittykawa,” he heard from his door, opening with a subtlety and closing with a bang. Classic Iwa move.
He turned to face his best friend, who at this moment, seemed to be quite irritated with him. He could feel the lecture as certain as one could feel a thunderstorm in the air.
Iwaizumi stood, arms crossed in Oikawa’s room, leaning against the wall and pinning him with a look so strong it might as well have been a thumbtack. Oikawa felt rooted in place, and all the words he initially planned on saying left his mouth.
“So Ushijima Wakatoshi happens to be at a school just a bit over,” Iwa started, “I did my research. Why not play a practice match with them to start to see their setting style? Break down their setter, practice receiving from a left-handed person, and maybe we can beat him, right?”
Oikawa sighed, feeling all the fight leave his body. He made his way over to his pale blue rug and sat down. “I know. It’s ridiculous.”
“What’s ridiculous is what you did to Y/N.” Iwaizumi glared at him. “If you’d said something about liking them and actually successfully getting them to like you, then we would’ve been perfectly capable of handling the shifts. Hell, even Kiyoko is coming. That alone will give people incentive to come and kiss us.”
“I made a mistake,” Oikawa cringed. He didn’t even want to think about the morning. What was intended to be a romantic gesture ended up being a horrible memory. His attempts to distract himself were futile, and he couldn’t help but wonder how Iwaizumi had found you. “But they probably don’t want to talk to me.”
Iwaizumi looked at Oikawa sadly. “They’re planning on skipping the booth. They’ve already decided to give their poster to Kuroo so he can help us with set-up. So don’t plan on seeing them.”
He grimaced. “Not coming? Really?”
Iwaizumi nodded. “I was pretty unhappy about it, but we’ve got to give them space to process everything.”
The minute you’d smiled at him in the airport, talking about “college stampedes,” Oikawa knew he wanted nothing more but to know you better. He’d thanked every lucky star for the seats you had next to each other and relished every moment spent with you.
He wondered why you avoided him for the next months, always daydreaming about what he’d say to you when you finally reappeared at practices. He’d searched for you in your classes, but he always missed you.
When you walked into the gym on that fateful day, he thought he had a genuine chance. You were perfect. Your thoughts were exquisite, your smile radiant, and everything about you felt right. When he kissed you, he could’ve screamed to the heavens that his heart was yours.
Perhaps that was why his heart seemed to tear a bit at Iwaizumi’s declaration. You wanted to move on from this.
“Oikawa…you can still fix this you know?” Iwaizumi pulled him up from the rug, noting the reignited spark in his eyes. “You should probably get the fair set up, find Y/N, and explain yourself. I’m certain they’ll understand.”
“It’s the least I can do,” he said solemnly, “And if they still decide they want nothing to do with me, at least I did my part.”
You found him at Kuroo’s place at night when you’d stepped through his door uninvited (like you did at times). In your hands was your laptop, a few pencils, and the sign you’d made for the booth. The last thing you’d expected was to see the person you’d been trying so desperately to avoid.
Oikawa, for a moment, looked like he’d seen a ghost. He looked at the door, brown eyes concerned and scanning you as if you’d just walked in through the wall.
Nobody said anything. You stood still, too shell-shocked to process the fact that a night before the Cool Down, Oikawa was spending time with Kuroo. In fact, you could barely believe Kuroo had ever allowed Oikawa into his place in the first place, especially when he knew that you were planning on popping in at some point.
Kuroo’s eyes followed your gaze, finding it landing right on the floor next to Oikawa (as opposed to straight at him).
“Well,” Kuroo began softly, “I didn’t warn either of you.”
“You could have,” you said, looking back at Kuroo, “I would’ve liked to know before I got here.”
“But then you would have never showed up.” Oikawa’s voice was clear, slicing through the silence of the room with a blade of decisiveness that you hadn’t heard from him. He looked you over, seemingly analyzing your health since the day he’d fucked up.
“I wasn’t planning on running into you,” you admitted, finding the courage to meet his eyes. “In fact, I was literally just coming to drop off the sign for your booth, talk to my best friend, and then go to bed.”
“Please let me explain myself.” Everything about Oikawa seemed pleading. His face harbored an expression of guilt so boundless that you weren’t sure how to react.
You wordlessly sat down in the corner chair closest to Kuroo’s door, setting your stuff down on the surface closest to it.
“I’m sure Iwaizumi must have told you what it was that we were raising money for.”
You nodded.
“I never had the chance to tell you more about what I struggled with in high school," Oikawa said quietly. “I was surrounded by talented players. Some of them are so talented that I thought I never even stood a chance. I realized at the end of my matches that I deserved to be on the court just as much as anyone else.”
“You’re a damn good setter Oikawa,” Kuroo interjected, “And even Semi admires your sets. He’s from the same school as Ushijima too.”
“Thank you,” Oikawa laughed softly, but even the sound was sad. He turned to meet your eyes. “I was out of line trying to say the volleyball club mattered more to me than what we were getting to be. I was worried they’d be weird at me for flaking, but they’re my team. Iwa told me they’d always have my back. Happy setter happy tosses right?”
You took a moment to process everything that he was saying, ultimately coming to one conclusion. He really did feel bad.
“Why are you so obsessed with having a chance to beat someone you had a rivalry with in highschool?”
Oikawa paused, contemplating your question. His brow was furrowed, and his hands clutched anxiously around nothing, seemingly finding the best words to phrase—whatever it was—that he was feeling.
“It was to give myself the confidence to know I can still beat tough opponents,” he said quietly. “But it was never worth losing you.”
You gently moved onto the floor, kneeling your way over to where Oikawa sat. When your fingertips skimmed his cheek, cool from the fall time air, he seemed fragile.
You gently curved your fingers to tuck a lock of his hair behind his ear. “Are you sure you mean it?”
“Every last word.” Oikawa whispers, and maybe against your better instincts, you pull him into an embrace.
As far as Oikawa was concerned, you weren’t coming to the booth today.
Cool Down’s set up began bright and early, and despite last night’s emotional clarity, Kuroo was still the one who showed up with the sign.
The booth was placed in a central location, but deep enough into the carnival so that after a sweet kiss, everyone could go and support the other clubs. He hadn’t been able to spot Kiyoko quite yet, but he was certain they were bound to cross paths eventually.
He walked across the grassy area where the carnival was being set up, watching the glorious “Cool Down” sign being placed at the front of the admit area. Many sports teams and board members of academic clubs were helping organize their own booths.
“Hey Oikawa! I can put up the banner!” Bokuto shouted from across the field, jogging up to their area with a rolled up “Mystic Kissbooth” backdrop.
“Be careful!” He yelled back, “We can’t have one of our best spikers getting hurt. I need those cross court and straight shots in perfect condition!”
Bokuto grinned so widely that Oikawa couldn’t help but grin back. “You can count on me!”
He took a moment to slouch against the now filled bouncy castle by their stand, clutching his clipboard to his chest. He could practically sense the excitement seeping into the space as the nearby club members set up their stands.
He’d had the opportunity to survey the space beforehand, and was quite pleased with the nearby stations.
The art club created a paint gun bullseye game to win handmade trinkets and jewelry. The president stood proudly at the set up side, excitedly loading up paint into the guns. He could already predict the boyfriends who’d attempt to win there.
To the other side of them was the statistics club’s probability stand. They’d set up numerous games: cards, a wheel, and even ring toss for the chance to win huge prizes. At the present moment, Kuroo was inquiring about the legitimacy of the airpods in one of the member’s hands (and yes—they were legit).
“This is pretty amazing, huh?”
Oikawa snapped out of his reverie, only to see Mattsun sporting his classic smirk. He looked around for Makki, but didn’t find him.
“Yeah,” he admitted, “I’m honestly surprised our little flier accomplished this much.”
“I’m not,” Mattsun chuckled, “You’ve been like this since high school Oikawa. Everyone here is really grateful for the rumors. Speaking of which…think the culprit is going to show up today?”
Oikawa snorted, momentarily horrified at the sound
that escaped him. “That’s ridiculous. I’m not planning on being a headliner. Iwa’s got that covered.”
Makki walked into view just a few moments later, looking thoroughly confused. “Where’s the rest of the team?”
Kuroo walked over at the exact moment, clapping Makki on the back. “We decided to give them a little break, considering they’re going to be doing all the kissing later.”
The group gathered together, and Mattsun pointed to the castle. “Who’s running this thing?”
“Oh it’s just a free fun thing the school is putting up.” Oikawa smacked it for good measure.
“How did midterms even go for you guys?” Kuroo laughed, “I pulled what I wanted in all my classes. Somehow. Orgo was a fucking miracle though. I genuinely thought I failed.”
“I was mostly fine,” Mattsun chuckled, “Though we won’t talk about history. Freaking liberal arts.”
Oikawa’s midterms had gone more or less to plan, but the added emotional stress had made it much more difficult to keep cool.
Standing there in that grassy field, he felt more at peace than he did the rest of the week.
Maybe today would be okay after all.
You and Iwaizumi were in your room trying to devise a plan on how to attend the carnival. The cool wood of your desk hit your wrist as you spread out the makeshift blueprint of the event that Kiyoko had so graciously given you.
Iwaizumi paced along the floor, inspecting outfits that you picked out while you devised a mental list of everywhere you wanted to go to maximize your enjoyment. Economic principles were literally designed off of utility, and you wanted to make sure all your contributions would have the best outcome for the clubs and yourself.
Midterms had been stressful, and while last night’s talk had fixed most of what had contributed to that stress, you still wondered about Oikawa.
Iwaizumi was the event’s new headliner, so what did that mean for Oikawa?
You weren’t sure.
The Saturday morning filled your room with sunshine that was comforting. From your window you were greeted with the multicolored leaves of campus, some floating down leisurely to hit the grass.
Iwaizumi, it seemed, had finally picked your outfit.
“Here,” he gestured, pointing to one of your favorites. “You rock this one.”
“Why thank you,” you smiled, tossing him the blueprint. “I’ve finally figured out the order I’m going to tour the Cool Down.”
Iwaizumi caught the paper in one arm, muscles flexing ever so slightly as he did. You nodded appreciatively. He was going to generate a shit ton of money.
He put a pen between his lips ever so slightly as he read the marks on the page. “Cotton candy. Art booth. Bouncy castle. Stats games. Chemistry lab. Apple dunk to win candy apples. Physics coaster.” He handed the page back. “That’s a pretty solid list. I think you’re missing something though.”
You pulled the pen out of Iwa’s mouth (surprised at your boldness) and smiled gently at him. “I’ll be sure to pop in at some point or be nearby to support you.”
Iwaizumi nodded, “Of course. I just need to beat you at any and all games we visit after my shift.”
You snickered. “Not a chance.”
Iwaizumi simply smirked in response.
“Hey, I need two tickets!” A student hollered to her assistant, who at the present moment, was working on acquiring more admit tickets from the roll they’d customized for the event. “We have quite the line here.”
“I’m working on it!” The assistant hollered back, jogging over with the entire row.
The line for the Cool Down was large, and you were thankful you’d had the foresight to arrive early enough to avoid a majority of the crowd. Being friends with Iwa had its perks too–the minute that the admitting team had spotted him, they’d immediately ushered you to the front so you were in a position to visit him later.
Soon enough, you were at the front of the line.
“Well hello there friend of Iwaizumi,” the girl at the front smiled, “How many tickets do you need?”
“Just one,” you said, surprised at the lack of prompt to pay the entrance fee. “What about the entrance fee?”
“Oh, Iwaizumi took care of that already,” the assistant grinned, handing you a beautifully designed cardstock ticket and tying a wristband around your wrist. “So you can walk straight in.”
You smiled graciously at the duo. “Wow. I’ll go find him and pay him back. Thank you guys.”
Stepping around the ticket distribution center, you walked straight through the decorated entrance area and walked in.
For a moment, you were awestruck. The usually empty grass fields were filled to the brim with activity. All around you were the booths of various clubs, all with lines to try them out. You could smell the sweet and tart scent of caramel apples in the distance, and saw a couple trying out the physics club’s make-shift coaster with a cotton candy in their hands.
The late afternoon was brisk and fresh, and you felt the possibilities of the evening unfurl around you. As the sky darkened its hues, the fair would begin to light up from the fixtures that trimmed everyone’s areas. Everything, from the food areas, to even the Mystic Kissbooth would create a movie-like scene.
You decided right there and then that the Cool Down was the best fair you’d ever attended. You’d never seen anything as well thought out as what you saw today.
You made your way to the popcorn area, finding new booths that you hadn’t seen on the blueprint. In front of you was a simple dart-throw, with the guarantee of winning a special edition Cool Down shirt if you hit within a certain range.
This was intriguing.
“Hi there,” you said quietly, walking up to the booth. “Can I give this a whirl?” The booth’s president looked up at you shocked for a moment before nodding.
“Of course!” He said excitedly, elbowing his shift mate. “Y/L/N Y/N, right? We are huge fans of your work. Kuroo has told us so so much about you!”
“My work?” You asked curiously as they pressed a dart into your palm. “Like my fliers?”
“Hell yeah,” the president grinned. “Pay if you win okay? I honestly want you to get our design out of it. We were inspired a bit by your Mystic Kissbooth sign.”
In the spirit of good fun, you aimed the dart as best as you could, so surprised when you hit a spot very close to the bulls-eye.
“Hey!” you shouted excitedly, “I actually got in range!”
The president smiled excitedly. “Amazing! What’s your shirt size?”
You told him your size, tucking a good amount of money into the jar. As soon as the soft shirt fabric hit your hands, you were immediately overcome with a sense of pride. The design was beautiful and simple, capturing the essence in the fair in just an image.
“You’re the design club?” You grinned, “This is amazing!”
“Ah thank you,” the president said bashfully, “It’s an honor to get a compliment from you. You’re more than welcome to join us. Canva art is still art we love.”
“I’ll be sure to consider it!” You waved goodbye to the design booth as you made your way deeper into the fair, a t-shirt in hand.
“Hey there! Want a chance to win a cool plushie? Come right over!” You turned your head to be met with the sewing club with something that looked a lot like “Bop-It” set up with sheets of papers next to them.
Out of sheer curiosity you made your way to the booth, finding a larger crowd than you anticipated.
“Okay,” one of the members began, “Here is how this works. You and your competitor will receive a pre-programmed Bop-It machine. Follow the color scheme as closely as you can and note the last color in each sequence on your sheet. If you don’t mess up before your partner, you win ANY handmade plush of your choice!”
In front of you, you spotted a couple tucking money into the jar and competing against one another. The round was quick, ending when someone clicked the wrong color. The handmade plushie of the winner was adorable.
Somehow, all your observations had led you to the front of the line.
“Hello,” a student smiled, “Do you have a competitor with you?”
You were about to share a response when you heard a voice behind you. “Yeah, they do. I’d like to play please.”
You were pleasantly surprised to find Kiyoko grinning as she tucked a hefty amount into the jar. The student at the front seemed enamored, and so did the entire line.
“Shimizu Kiyoko is here…” they all whispered.
“Hey Kiyoko,” you smiled, placing your own money in the jar. “Planning to beat me?”
“Of course.” She grinned mischievously, “I ran a volleyball team. I am competitive enough to beat you.”
The game began as soon as the students got a grip of themselves. You frantically hit the colors and noted them down, only to tie with Kiyoko. You’d both walked away with adorable plushies, though Kiyoko had forcibly had to ensure that they didn’t hand her an extra.
“I’m glad to run into you,” you smiled, walking with her further into the grass. “I had no idea what time you were planning to get here.”
“I’m glad I found you.” Her smile was infectious, and soon enough, you stood in front of a candy apple stand.
“Are you planning to visit the booth?” You asked her, watching her pay for her apple.
“Yeah,” she smiled, “Oikawa begged me to cover, so I was feeling nice. Though he’s been sulking lately.”
You raised a brow. When you saw him last night, you could feel his fatigue. You felt the stress melt out of him when you pulled him in for a hug, but you hadn’t realized the extent of his distress.
“He hasn’t kissed today at all,” she smiled knowingly, “I think he’s saving an appearance for a special someone.”
“He’s….not headlining?” You were shocked. After everything, it seemed that he really meant what he said.
“Nope,” Kiyoko wiped some caramel from her lips. “And the booth’s sales have been spectacular.”
Standing there in the field, you were hit with the intense urge to see him.
“Go,” Kiyoko smiled, “They’ve been waiting for you to show up.”
“We’ll catch up.” You smiled as you took off in a jog towards the booth. The wind swept your cheeks as you ran, and you could see the evening sun dip into different colors. Beautiful, you thought, feeling the adrenaline pump through your veins.
He really had meant everything. You needed to see him.
When you arrived at the booth, you were shocked at the line. So many students lined up, money in hand as they waited for their chance to kiss a volleyball player. You were shocked to see the crowd, watching someone hand Semi a particularly large bill before leaning in for a kiss.
You surveyed the booth for Oikawa, but you couldn’t find him anywhere. You couldn’t stop the thrum of your heart in your chest from overpowering your senses. Where was he? What if you were too late?
At that particular moment, Oikawa walked out from behind the stand, putting some Chapstick onto his lips. And then, he saw you.
You stood in line, a large bill in hand and an expression that seemed almost desperate. Oikawa has never seen anyone look more perfect than you did right now. You held a handmade plushie and a shirt, lips flushed from biting them.
You met his eyes, feeling your heart shock at the sensation. There he was.
Before you even had a chance to think about what you were doing, you ran out of line to him, shoving the bill into his hands.
“Tooru,” you said breathlessly, looking at him with an expression he’d never seen before. “Kiyoko told me you weren’t headlining. I was afraid I wasn’t going to find you. I’m sorry for not trusting you.”
Oikawa could hardly hide his shock as the words tumbled from your lips. He studied your cheeks, and smoothed out your wind mused hair with a soft smile. “Hey, it’s alright.”
You exhaled, looking at him like he strung the stars. “I thought I wouldn’t make it in time.”
Oikawa simply grinned before pulling you in for a passionate kiss.
This was different from the last time you kissed. He cupped your face softly and wrapped his other arm around your waist, tracing a small heart into your back. You could feel the curve of his lips as he kissed you softly, pulling you deeper when you smiled back into it. Everything about this was soft, almost loving. It felt like a truce. It felt like a confession.
It felt better than both of those things.
When you finally split for air, his smile was nearly blinding. He looked at you like you were a poet and he was your poetry, a product of your purest affections.
“Go out with me sometime?” He looked nervous, standing there like he hadn’t just kissed you like you were the most special person in the universe.
“Of course,” you grinned, pulling him down for another kiss.
©mysterystarz all rights reserved, please do not plagiarize, translate, or modify my fics in any way even if credited
if you got this far, thank you for reading <3!!
#nova scribbles <3#oikawa x reader#oikawa tooru x reader#oikawa x y/n#oikawa x you#oikawa tooru fluff#oikawa tooru angst#oikawa tooru x you#oikawa tooru x y/n#oikawa headcanons#oikawa fic#hq oikawa#haikyuu oikawa#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#haikyuu x y/n#haikyuu x gender neutral reader#haikyuu x female reader#haikyuu x f!reader#haikyuu fic#haikyuu fanfiction#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu angst#hq fluff#hq x reader#hq x you#hq imagines#haikyuu#kuroo testuro#kuroo tetsurou
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Kuroo Recs
a small dump of kuroo things I keep thinking about...
Taste Test by kaientai [ao3]
synopsis: tasting all the things your soulmate can, it was easy to figure out who he was. but it just had to happen at the worst possible time.
cute soulmate au, slight angst that makes my heart go out to kuroo, oneshot!
calloused hands by @eggyrocks
synopsis: kuroo is down bad for you, an indie punk band musician. too bad he's just your type, you would really enjoy liking him :/
university au - noya is my favorite in this. reader creates issues but at least she can own up to them. bonus: punk music .
Work Wife by @kaiijo
synopsis: kuroo and you have always considered yourselves in a "work marriage," no questions asked.
fluffy little office romance oneshot, feat. jealous!kuroo
Butterfly by @hawbella
synopsis: torn between your loyalty to your friend and the awful butterflies in your stomach, kuroo pushes you to give in a little.
this oneshot took me off guard. it's spicy in a way that makes me sad.
#no thoughts just kuroo#the calloused hands cinematic universe#kuroo tetsurou#kuroo testuro#kuroo x reader#kuroo tetsuro x reader#haikyuu#haikyuu kuroo#haikyuu x you#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu angst#hq#fic rec#hq smau#hq x you#hq x reader#hq x y/n#hq fluff#haikyuu x y/n#kuroo x you#kuroo x y/n#ghost rec
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timeskip!kuroo forces himself to like coffee because everyone at his office drinks it, but he actually thinks it’s the most revolting thing in the world. he keeps caprisuns hidden in his desk drawer and will sip on those throughout the day when no one is looking.
all content belongs to @sunarintarotea. do not steal, plagiarize, modify, repost or share this content onto any other platforms.
#haikyuu drabble#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu x reader#kuroo angst#kuroo fluff#kuroo x reader#kuroo smut#haikyuu smut#kuroo tetsurou#kuroo x kenma#nekoma#haikyuu drabbles#haikyuu hcs#bokuto#bokuto smut#atsumu smut#haikyuu smau
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Can you do any of the Haikyuu boys x Fem!reader, where they get into an argument (with an angst ending please🥹🥹🥹) if you can’t that’s perfectly fine <3
Haikyuu boys getting in an argument with Fem!reader, and never solve the problem.
Warnings: angst, no comfort, swearing, harsh words, cheating, heavy breakups.
Oikawa
You were such a perfect couple, at least, that's what you thought. You were so proud of him, always comforted him after losing, he cared for you, he helped you with school. It was kinda weird that he never showed you publicly, or even mentioned that he has a relationship in interviews, but those didn't matter that much to you. You were in love, right? So then, why did you find him like this?
“Oikawa how could you do this to me?” you asked him desperately trying to hear that it was just a dream. “I’m sorry, I got bored of this relationship’’ he simply replied. Your eyes widened. “Y-You got b-bored?? Oikawa Tooru, how could you? I was there to wipe your tears when you lost, and I still didn't get bored -you paused- i hoped and prayed that one day you’ll win and be happy, and I would’ve wiped those tears again because they would’ve been of joy. And you got b-bored?” you looked at him with tears running down your cheeks. “I don't need to explain myself, it’s not my fault you were dumb and got attached” and with that he simply left you there, crying all by yourself.
Atsumu
He was so full of himself tonight. His team won an official match against Karasuno, but that doesn’t give him an excuse to treat you like this.
“How about we celebrate by eating out?” you asked while he sat on your shared bed. “Nah, I'll go talk to the boys and maybe play a game or two” he said standing up from the bed. “Why don’t you celebrate with me and you celebrate with them? I was there for you in stands of all your matches”
“Y/n, they are my teammates, they are more important than you are. Plus, you are a woman, why don’t you go back in the kitchen and make me something to eat.” your face got all red and flushed, you grabbed your purse and hit him in the head with full force. “Fuck you!” you grabbed your keys and left the apartment.
You slept at your friend's house, actually, you barely slept. You waited for him to call you all night, but he never did.
Kuroo
The last few days had been very tense. You and your boyfriend Kuroo were having a lot of small arguments,about the fact that he got late home almost everyday, he wasn’t giving you enough attention, you couldn’t come to his matches, things like this. But none of the small fights ended like this one in this morning:
“All I’m saying is that you could come home earlier from practice, or at least bother to text me that you’re gonna be late, it’s like you don’t even care that I'm here waiting for you day and night!” you yell at him. “Whatever Y/n, I’m late to practice” you both knew this was a lie. But you heard him mutter under his breath “I wanted a break anyway.”
And with that, he left. He left with no goodbye, no explanation, no excuses. You felt your whole world collapsing on you. You sat with your knees to your chest, crying, hoping he will come back and tell you that he didn’t mean what he just said.
Bokuto
Today he lost another game. And he felt like it was all his fault. So why won't he blame somebody else and maybe let his anger out on that person too?
“Baby, Kou, it’s fine, it’s just a game” you get interrupted by him. “No, it’s not just a game, Y/n, it’s volleyball, everything is important about it! WELL, I MEAN HOW WOULD YOU KNOW WHEN YOU DON’T EVEN HAVE A HOBBY, YOU NEVER DO ANYTHING! ALL YOU DO IS BOTHER ME AND KEEP DISTRACTING ME FROM THE ONLY THING THAT I REALLY LOVE!!” you pause your breathing. You felt so guilty, you look down, you don’t even dare maintaining eye contact with your “boyfriend”. Tears pick at your eyes, and you cross your arms.
“Yeah, sure, cry, that’s all you can do, since you know what I just said is true.” You felt those words cut so deep, your heart broke in a million pieces.
Osamu
You never really learned how to cook, but seeing your boyfriend cook everyday made you learn a few things, so you thought you could make something special for him tonight. I mean, what could go wrong? Everything.
“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, YOU WASTED SO MUCH INGREDIENTS, AND YOU STILL FUCKING BURNED IT, HOW STUPID CAN YOU BE?!” he yelled at you, showing you the mess you made in his kitchen. “I'm really sorry, I just wanted to make something good for you once…”
“Well, apparently you can’t, so why don't you just leave?” You looked up at him, but his gaze scared you- there was no more love in his eyes, not even a little bit. What was wrong with you, were you that hard to love?
Iwaizumi
“I love listening to you” you confess to him. “You do?” you look at him, reassuring him “Yes baby, of course i do! Even when you talk about how much you hate Oikawa, you know, i had a friend that i hated her the exact same way but-”
“Well if you like listening to me, then why do you make it about yourself?” you froze. Did you just do that? “I-” you looked into his eyes searching for his love and reassuring but where were those? “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to, you know that, right? I’m really sorry, Haji, look at me” you tried grabbing his face but he pushed your hands away. “Just leave me alone already, with your excuses and everything. I’m getting tired of this. We’re done.”
You hated yourself. That small mistake you didn’t even know you made, cost you everything.
...
Hey!! Of course I can write this! Sorry it took a long time, someone caught a cold and couldn't do it on time. Hope you liked it!
💕💕💕
#haikyuu angst#hq boys#haikyuu headcanons#hq angst#haikyuu boys#hq headcanons#oikawa tooru#oikawa x reader#oikawa angst#oikawa headcanons#miya atsumu#atsumu x reader#atsumu angst#atsumu headcanons#kuroo tetsurou#kuroo x reader#kuroo angst#kuroo headcanons#bokuto koutarou#bokuto x reader#bokuto angst#bokuto headcanons#miya osamu#osamu x reader#osamu angst#osamu headcanons#iwazumi hajime#iwaizumi x reader#iwaizumi angst#iwaizumi headcanons
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