𐙚 ˙ . 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐒 is all it takes for two people to fall out of love, nine tries before everything comes crashing down, before love turns to lust, before it disappears completely. love is defined by the limits of a cats nine lives, each life a fragile piece of love, slowly getting destroyed as the complications happen.
with every life, they try again. with every life, they lose a little more.
before we adventure into a cat's little life, look at the tags ! pre and post timeskip kuroo ; kuroo x reader ; angst
forewarning profanity ; mentions of alcohol ; discreditation of college majors (for the purpose of the story)
status: ongoing ⎯⎯⎯ taglist : open reply to this post to be added
table of contents
prologue : black cat
chapter one : high school sweethearts
chapter two :
chapter three :
chapter four :
chapter five :
chapter six :
chapter seven :
chapter eight :
chapter nine :
cat facts / more
it wouldn't be love without the lovers y/n l/n & tetsuro kuroo
a soundtrack for love that could defy all. will these melodies endure with them, or will they linger long after it's gone?
“Don't fall asleep,” Oikawa said, his voice soft and warm.
“I won't,” she lied. The comfort of his shoulder feeling so right under her head, and the quiet and illuminated sky made everything seem like a lullaby only they could hear. The stars seemed to have lined up just for tonight. They created the perfect atmosphere for them to lay as they looked up and let the beauty of the moon swallow them whole. This felt perfect.
The only problem with perfection is that it is nonexistent. It is true, even though the feeling was perfect, the following events were far from it.
They both loved the moon. It was their thing. Lay down in the grass, look up, admire, and dream. The moon felt like a constant to them, a secret language. It was always going to be there. Even when one of them wasn't going to be. They always knew the moon was their invisible string.
She doesn't remember when they started doing it—the lay down and look up—. Maybe it was after that power outage in their second year of highschool. The only light available to illuminate them was the shine of the moon. Maybe it was that night they ditched a party and ended up on his roof, sharing a blanket and secrets they would never say out loud in daylight. Maybe it just happened, like all the best things do. Without being planned. Without being announced.
What she does remember was when he said, “The moon will always be ours.” His voice was as delicate as a feather. As if he was afraid of breaking something with his words. And she knew he was right. It didn’t matter if they were happy, heartbroken, fighting or laughing so hard they couldn’t breathe. The moon stayed. And so did they. That is, until they didn’t.
Everything felt bittersweet. His shoulder felt like it was slowly moving away, distancing itself from her. But her mind could be playing tricks on her based on the situation at hand. They both knew it was their last moon.
He never said it out loud, he didn’t need to. She saw it in the way he held her just a little tighter, in the way his voice shook when he laughed.
“What time is it in Argentina right now?” She asked, not looking at him. He didn’t answer. He didn’t want to be reminded.
She swallowed before speaking again. “Will you still look at the moon?”
“Every night,” he finally answered, his head moving slightly to look at her as she kept her head up looking at the sky. She nodded. Maybe because crying didn't feel like an option. Not yet.
She rubbed her arms to keep herself from the cold. When he noticed, he grabbed the corner of the blanket and wrapped it around her. Below it, she could feel as the heat radiated off his skin. They both would give up anything to stay in this moment. Their fingers barely touching, their eyes unconsciously pulling back to each other. If only they could give up everything and stay here.
A firefly flew right in front of them and they both followed it with their gaze in a synchronized motion.
“You know, fireflies can't shine forever,” he said, his eyes still following that small light.
“They can't?”
“Just for a few minutes. They shine, then they disappear.”
She stayed quiet. Not because she didn't know what to say, but because she understood what he meant.
She wanted to say so many things. Ask if he was afraid. If he was also counting the days to their goodbye. If someway, this hurt both of them the same. But she didn't say anything. Because sometimes, silence weighs less than the truth.
He moved himself a little closer, their shoulders brushing against each other and she started to absorb everything.
The smell in the air, the soft whisper of her thoughts, the sky above, her messy emotions, the delicate sounds of the night, and her hope, becoming more and more fragile.
They didn't say goodbye. They just stayed there, showering in the glow of the moonlight, pretending the sky could keep them together.
They made no promises that night. There was no “I’ll wait for you,” no “This isn’t over.” Only the silence of the grass beneath them, the weight of the moon above, and the quiet truth that something was ending.
And then he left.
In the nights that followed, she returned to the same place. She looked up at the moon and wondered if he did too. But it wasn’t the same anymore. The certainty that he was watching it too had vanished. He once said the moon was theirs. And she believed him. She spent entire nights replaying their story, clinging to the memory, thinking that the silver moon would be enough to keep them connected. An invisible string. Unbreakable. Despite the miles between them.
But what remains now is a mess of emotions. Every time the moon appeared, it was a comfort. A “hello” in the middle of chaos. A refuge. But even that comfort had an end. Because when the moon disappeared, it reminded her that he had too. It reminded her of their goodbye.
He left like the moon. And the cruelest part was that, when the moon rose for her, it was setting for him. A greeting for one, a farewell for the other. They were still watching the same moon. Just not together anymore.
She stopped waiting for the moon to speak. But it did. Every night, in the silence between glowing stars, it whispered all the things he never said. And that silence? It hurt more than any goodbye ever could.
She had searched for him in the sky for so long that she forgot how to look elsewhere. Until one night, she didn’t. And that, in its own quiet way, was the end.
He never told anyone, but when the lights dimmed and the crowds faded, when the ache in his shoulder pulsed louder than the cheers ever could, he still looked for the moon. Not for answers. Not even for her. But to just feel something constant. Familiar. Like the weight of her head on his shoulder, or the way she always knew when to stay quiet.
He wondered if she still looked up too. And if she did, he questioned if she hated him for not saying the one thing that mattered.
But the moon never answered. It was gone. It had already set. He had already set.
Navigation : midnight records! the starlight EP! haikyuu EP!
── .✦ "IWAIZUMI HAJIME VS. WEDDING" — iwaizumi hajime
a/n : sorry for being inactive!! finally found motivation to write for haikyuu
content : post timeskip. iwa crashing out. pre wedding. he’s so in love. seijoh 4. fluff. crack.
Iwaizumi Hajime doesn’t spiral.
He doesn’t pace. Doesn’t panic. Doesn’t start talking just to fill space. He’s the one people lean on. The level-headed one during a crisis.
Which is exactly why the Seijoh 4 are now watching him like he’s a science experiment gone wrong. The groom’s waiting room is too quiet. Tense. The kind of quiet that happens before someone snaps.
Oikawa, back from Argentina just for the wedding, sips sparkling water with the smugness of someone who saw this coming. Matsukawa is filming. Hanamaki looks both entertained and slightly afraid.
And our dear Iwaizumi paces. Mutters something to himself. Then—without warning—drops to the floor and starts doing push-ups in his suit.
“He doesn’t spiral,” Hanamaki replies, blinking. “I’ve never seen him spiral. This feels illegal.”
“I once saw Iwa-chan roll his ankle and tell me to breathe,” Oikawa says, horrified. “This is terrifying.”
“I’m not spiraling,” Iwaizumi mutters, chest nearly kissing the floor. “I’m keeping my heart rate in check.”
Push-up. Push-up. Push-up
“I’m grounding myself. This is tactical. I am not emotionally compromised.”
Push-up.
“She’s gonna look like a goddess and I’m gonna forget how to breathe.”
“What was that?” Oikawa asks.
“I said I’m fine, Shittykawa.” Oikawa blinks. “You haven’t called me that since we were 18. Oh god, he’s malfunctioning.”
Iwaizumi keeps going. “She’s gonna smile. At me. In front of everyone. And I’m gonna cry. I know I’m gonna cry. I can already feel it. It’s sitting right here—” he gestures to his throat, “like a threat.”
He stops and lays flat on the floor. The silence is deafening. “I’ve never seen him like this,” Hanamaki whispers.
“He cried when she said yes, didn’t he?” Matsukawa murmurs. “This is stage two.”
“You FaceTimed me,” Oikawa adds. “There were tissues involved.”
“I was sick.”
”You were sniffling,” Oikawa corrects.
“It was February.”
Iwaizumi sits up slowly. “She’s gonna be in a dress. With her hair done. And makeup. She’s gonna walk toward me like she means it and I’m gonna stand there looking like I forgot how knees work. And then I’ll cry. And then she’ll cry. And I’ll ruin everything.”
Oikawa kneels and hands him a water bottle like it’s an offering to a storm god. “You’re in love. That’s not ruining anything.”
“I’m so in love,” Iwaizumi whispers, like a confession. “It’s making me physically ill.”
Hanamaki just nods. “That tracks. We’ve been waiting years for your emotional constipation to catch up.”
KURONEKO
tetsurō kuroo ; chapter one
high school sweethearts
previous. | masterlist. | next.
⋆˚. ౨ৎ ⋆ ˚ ; currently playing don't go away by oasis
𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 ; profanity, relationship issues (miscommunication, emotional distance, subtle jealousy), and mean characters
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ; (2.20k)
Romance is always described as sweet, innocent and comfortable. And when it came to Kuroo and Y/n, everything was exactly like that.
Especially, as two young kids in high school, where it was all glances and lingering touches.
It started in the hallways.
A touch. A smirk. A breathy whisper that always made her smile, even when she didn't want to.
Tetsurō Kuroo leaned against her locker like he owned it. Like he was waiting for her. Like he always would be.
And maybe for a while he was.
She usually clutched her books to her chest, heading to her next class, only to be stopped by a familiar smirk. The tall, dark haired boy leaned lazily against the lockers, waiting, only to pull her in at the last second, his finger curling around her wrist as he winked.
For the people around, this was normal Tetsurō Kuroo behaviour. The third year was completely head over heels for his girlfriend. Always finding a way to get her close, not caring enough to put down the PDA at least a little bit.
“Hey, pretty girl,” he said, not minding how her books almost fell out of her grip. He softly moved a piece of hair behind her ear. His fingers, delicate as a feather tickling her skin, traced to the bottom of her chin, lifting it up ever so slightly.
Her eyebrows tried to furrow, she was almost late, and as the vice-president of the student council, that was not a good look on her. But his eyes full of passion and care made her feel something else.
“Tetsu–” she laughed. It was impossible to feel any type of anger when Tetsurō Kuroo looked at you that way.
“What?” his finger left her chin and placed his hand on the side of her neck. “Skipping wouldn't be that bad, would it?” He teased, his smirk widening as he tilted his head.
Y/n sighed, exasperated but unable to hide the small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re insane.”
“And yet, here you are, hopelessly in love with me,” he shot back, his fingers light against her neck.
She rolled her eyes, stepping back just enough to regain her composure, but he didnt let her go entirely. His hand pulled the upper side of her arm, not hard enough to make her drop her books, but just enough to get her even closer.
“You know I have to go,” she reminded him, glancing at the clock above the hallway.
Kuroo hummed as if considering it, then leaned in just a fraction closer, voice dropping to something softer, with full intention of making her nervous. “I know, I just like making you miss me while you're gone.”
Her breath hitched, the proximity and his breath touching her skin making her mouth part slightly. But before she could say anything the shrill sound of the bell echoed through the hallways.
“Tetsurō,” she groaned, finally pulling away. “Now I'm going to be late!”
Kuroo simply grinned, completely unfazed. “Guess that means you'll have to see me after school to make up for the lost time.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but the warmth of his gaze, the way his thumb brushed over the fabric of her button-up, heat seeping through, made her forget why she was supposed to be mad in the first place.
“You're the worst,” she muttered, letting herself feel his touch for one more second before pulling away.
“And you still love me,” he called after her, watching as she disappeared down the hall.
She didn't turn back, but he didn't need her to, he knew she was smiling.
That is how it always was with them, playful hallway encounters, small touches that make you think about them for ages, and eyes filled with want and need.
Then, it was the talks on the way home, the “how was your day?” or “you wouldn't guess what happened today!”, and other simple small talk to fill in the silence.
What was most important was that one day after school. It was late, too late for them to still be out. They walked side by side under the glow of the streetlights, the world seeming quiet to their perception. But the busy Tokyo streets said otherwise. Her apartment was just around the corner but neither of them seemed to be in a hurry to get there.
Kuroo walked beside her, hands stuffed in his pockets, glancing at her every few steps. She was rambling about something—an upcoming test, a new book she was reading, maybe both—but he wasn't really listening. Not because he didn't care, but because something else was consuming his thoughts, something that made his heart beat a little too fast and his fingers twitch like they were itching for her.
He stopped walking.
She kept moving forward a few steps before realizing and turned to face him, confusion flickering across her face. “What?” she asked softly. Taking his hand and moving him out of the way from the bustling Tokyo sidewalk.
Kuroo exhaled sharply, his lips curling into his familiar half smirk, but there was something nervous about it. “You're really something, you know that?”
She tilted her head, her brows furrowing. “Tetsu–”
“I love you.” the words hung between them, barely audible in the midst of the crowded city, weightless yet heavy, simple yet everything. He hadn’t meant to say it like that, not with a bunch of strangers walking by, not with her looking at him like that, wide-eyed and stunned. But now that it was out, he realized he didn't even regret it. Not even a little.
She blinked, lips parting slightly, the cool of the night catching in her throat. “You…”
“I love you,” he repeated, this time slower, like he wanted to make sure she heard it right. “I think I have for a while. I just didn't want to mess it up by saying it too soon.”
Everything went silent. The overwhelmed surroundings now seemed empty and her eyes looked at him as if she was willing to stop time forever. But a second later, everything seemed to reset.
Then, a breathless laugh escaped her lips, something warm and blooming in her chest as she reached for his hand, her fingers curling between his.
“I love you too, you idiot.”
His breath hitched, and she watched as the tension in his shoulders melted into something softer, something real. Kuroo grinned widely, relieved, and a little cocky now that he knew he wasn't alone in this feeling.
“Yeah?” he said, his voice dropping like it usually did when he wanted to make her nervous.
“Yeah,” she whispered, tugging him closer and wrapping her arms around his neck.
And when he pulled her in, holding her like she was something precious, something worth waiting for, she thought maybe, this is what love was supposed to feel like.
It should've stayed that way. But it didn't.
Who knew after such special moments everything could come crashing down?
It was supposed to be enough. The hallway touches, late-night walks, the “I love you” under a streetlight.
But slowly, it stopped being enough.
And she didn't even notice the cracks until they split her heart in half.
Falling in love at a young age is not easy, it comes with trouble, heartbreak, and the impossibility forever.
When it came to Kuroo and Y/n, everything was exactly like that.
Y/n spent her weekend afternoons at home, scrolling through her phone, her thumb hovering over the messages from her friends. Pictures of her friend Emiko and her boyfriend at a café, some more of her other friend Juri and hers at the movies. While she sat on her living room couch. Then she received another message. Just a short, halfhearted "practice ran late. sleep well" text from Kuroo. She turned off her phone and exhaled slowly, sinking deeper into the couch. The TV played in the background, but she wasn’t watching. Instead, her eyes flickered to the door, as if expecting someone to knock. Expecting him to finally show up.
As if everything couldn’t get any worse, even week day training started extending, leaving Y/n standing alone, waiting for her boyfriend to accompany her on her way home.
Only, he never arrived.
Kuroo was exiting the gym. Sweaty, hair messier than usual. He was laughing and trying to get a smile out of his best friend, Kenma, when he noticed the figure of the pretty girl.
“Hey doll, what’s up?” he asked, confused by her presence.
Her eyes were filled with disappointment and a mix of anger, the feeling in them hitting right in his soul. “Seriously?”
Kuroo's brows furrowed, he didn't like not knowing what was going on. “Yeah, seriously. what's wrong?”
She stared at him. He looked genuinely clueless, like he really had no idea why she was acting this way, and that just added more to her anger.
“You promised you'd walk me home,” she said, though she already knew how this would go.
Just like yesterday. Just like the week before.
Just like all the times she waited, and he didn't come.
Something flickered in his eyes, guilt maybe, but his shoulders tensed when he realized, “Shit, babe, practice ran late, I’m sorry”
Maybe it was the excuses but his words made her snap. “Practice always runs late, Tetsurō!” Her hands moved exasperatedly, “and I always wait, and wait and you never show up!”
He opened his mouth to say something but closed it, exhaling sharply and looking to the side before noticing his best friend was long gone. “Jesus, are we really doing this now?”
She let out a humorless laugh. “I'm so sorry, is my breakdown getting in the way of your practice?”
“Come on,” he groaned. “You know this is important. Nationals are coming soon.”
“I know,” her voice rising. “I know how much it means to you, I always have! But have you ever stopped to consider what is important to me? About how fucking lonely it feels to be with someone that never shows up?”
His face hardened, his laid back attitude completely disappeared. “That's not fair.”
“Isn’t it?” She challenges, stepping closer and immediately regretting it because the way he looked up close always made her feel butterflies in her stomach. “Because I’m starting to think I'm not your girlfriend anymore, just someone else along the way.”
“You know that’s not true.” He tries to rebut again.
“Prove it then!” She gets closer to yell at his face and something about his breath on her skin made her almost back down. But the anger in the moment was not gonna let that happen. “Pick me for once Tetsurō. Show up.”
Kuroo opened his mouth, then shut it again. His Adam's apple bobbed, hands curling into fists at his sides. But still, nothing. Just silence.
That's all she gets.
Complete and utter silence.
And that breaks her.
“That's what I thought.” she said, her voice shaky.
She wanted to be in the wrong.
God, she wanted to be wrong.
But sometimes, love doesn't leave you with a choice. It just leaves.
Kuroo looked at her like he wanted to say something. He wanted to be there. To stay. To stand by her side. But he knew wouldn’t be able to keep that promise.
She shook her head, laughed softly one more time, trying not to let the tears built up in her eyes run down her face. “You don’t have time for me, Tetsurō. And I'm done pretending that’s fine.”
Then, she turned and walked away before she could see the look on his face. Before those eyes, those lips, those hands, made her change her mind.
This time she wasn’t going to wait for him.
Her way home felt lonelier than usual, his missing presence more noticeable than before.
She sat down on a bench outside the convenience store, sipping on her comfort drink. Her thoughts consumed by the recent events.
That is until she felt the soft fur of a little creature brush her leg. It was a small black cat—a scrappy little thing, really—he jumped up onto the bench and laid beside her, tired and weak.
“Rough night too?” she said, her fingers playing with the fur of the cat’s head, and he seemed to soften at her touch.
He nuzzled his small nose against her thigh, which made her let out a delicate chuckle. “Thanks kitten.”
Maybe it was the color of his fur, or his tired eyes, or maybe how he scratched himself against her but this company felt familiar.
She placed both her hands beside her and stared at the street ahead of her while letting out a sigh. “Do you think he cares?”
The black kitten once again nosed her thigh.
A weak laugh escaping her lips. “Yeah, me neither.”
He said he loved her. Maybe he did.
But love wasn't supposed to feel like waiting. Love wasn't supposed to feel like being left behind. Love wasn't supposed to feel like this.
And just like that, they lost their first life. The first piece of hope. The first of what is yet to come.
a/n : this is actually so late but i'm rlly proud of this chapter, i really hope you enjoy and feel like wanting to continue following kuroo and y/n's journey through kuroneko.
taglist : open (reply to the post or go to the ask box is you want to be added)
previous. | masterlist. | next.
⋆˚. ౨ৎ ⋆ ˚ ; currently playing linger by the cranberries
𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 ; ⎯⎯
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ; (291)
nine lives seems like plenty of time to live. loving, long, and overdue. anything could happen in those nine lives. happy, sad and miserable.
they say a cat has nine lives. nine chances to escape, to cheat death, to begin again.
but what if these rules, these nine lives, were applied to people? to love.
love, too, can survive things that should have ended it. it can endure heartbreak, distance, regret, hurt. it can die and come back, weaker or stronger, better or worse.
you can give love nine tries before it disappears. before passion turns to habit. before want turns to need. before love turns to lust.
before it turns into something unrecognizable.
how unfair it is, to love this much, only to never get it right.
kuroo and y/n gave love a try. and another, and one more. falling, crashing, failing, and again and again and again. until one day, there were no chances left.
each time they found their way back to each other.
each time, love felt a little different, a little worn, a little harder to hold on to. as if, with every try they inched closer to the edge.
each time, they swore it would be the last.
maybe love was never meant to have nine tries. maybe, if they needed that many, it was already doomed.
but if that were true,
why did they keep trying?
why did it feel like love always returned? or rather, why did it feel like it was never gone?
why did he still look at her like that?
why, after everything they went through, did it still feel unfinished?
nine lives should've been enough.
maybe they were.
or maybe, just maybe,
love has one more left.
a/n : i'm so excited to start this project and i really hope you enjoy it as much as i do !
taglist : open (reply to the post or go to the ask box is you want to be added)
warnings : 17+ to read, addiction, drugs + alcohol, language, blood + violence, illegal activities, broken/dysfunctional families, mental health struggles, mentions of trauma, inaccurate knowledge of the japanese educational system (reader is a teacher…again), toxic relationships, yaku is a horrible person at first, reader isn't great either, yes I'm reposting this bc the suga idea no longer spoke to me, for you @shortcakebaby <3
highlighted notes and dog-eared pages, purse stocked with everything you might need, late night cups of tea gone cold, hands gripping a steering wheel too tightly, soft hums of concentration, a perfectionist’s sigh, high expectations scribbled in the margins, the quiet weight of responsibility, the scent of fresh linen, lip balm applied with precision, small moments of softness hidden between schedules, actions over words, heart too big, held too carefully.
tetsurō kuroo
black coffee in chipped mugs, smirks hidden behind lazy sips, the hum of an old record player, badly tied shoelaces, teasing grins that mean more than they let on, hands stuffed in pockets, a mind constantly running, late-night youtube rabbit holes on volleyball strategies, the flicker of fluorescent lights, voices hoarse from yelling plays, warmth disguised as mischief, lingering scent of cologne on borrowed hoodies, sarcasm laced with affection, the unshakable belief that things will somehow work out.
KURONEKO
“a cat has nine lives, for three he plays, for three he strays and for the last three he stays.”
synopsis : kenma doesn’t believe in attachments, but maybe he’s been playing this one all wrong. after all, in a game where the rules keep changing, it’s hard to tell if he’s winning or just getting left behind.
cw : k.kenma x f!reader, inspired by "glhf<3" by MICO, very bad try at "gamer talk," angst(?).
word count : 1.01k
" oh, my god thought it was love // but then you broke my fall // fought for forever, got a couple months // want someone better? // baby, good luck, have fun "
kenma kozume has always been antisocial. he was always on his phone or using his nintendo. never seen hanging out with anyone other than kuroo.
the boy spoke a few words and only did it when it was truly necessary. his gaze was always down. his eyes were tired and droopy. but that didn't stop him from being somewhat popular. the bleached haired boy was a starting setter on nekoma’s volleyball team, so his name was fairly known.
at school he was a quiet, lonely boy. people tried to talk to him but his answers were always vague, empty, and not interested. so no one really knew him.
the real him that was hidden behind the screen.
late at night, the computer shined a bright light on kenma’s face in his dark room. as if it were a reflex, he opened riot games and launched valorant. his eyes traveled to his second monitor where discord was already opened.
scanning through his friends list he saw the multiple notifications from people he did not want to reply to and the zoomed in, smiski profile picture of his favorite mutual. next to the unconventional icon was her name in white font, ‘y/n.’
kenma quickly clicked on the chat and typed out a message.
‘hop on valorant?’
no greeting, no small talk. he was always direct with his texts, especially those to her. he saw something in her, maybe it was the fact he had never met anyone as fun or that she was different from everyone else he had met before. but that's how it always was with her, simple.
except it wasn't, really.
his eyes hovered over the message after sending it, the cursor blinking on the text bar as if awaiting for something more. something he would never actually type out.
because there was something about her. something that gave him a slight impulse, a little rush in his dull life. maybe because she was fun without even trying, or how she did not force a conversation and try to fill in the silence with meaningless words like everyone else. or maybe, it's because she wasn't like the other girls he met online. no fake voices, no pretending to “need” him. she just was.
and he liked that. way more than he should.
“bloop.” the notification echoed through his headset.
‘give me 5,’ she replied, quick and easy, just how he liked it.
slanting down on his chair, kenma’s mind went to her. the girl lived in hyogo, which was pretty far away, but he’s seen her face before, and follows her on instagram so he knows she's not a catfish.
five minutes later, kenma was still staring mindlessly into his computer, lost in the thought of his online friend until the incoming call sound filled his ears. making him quickly answer it.
“yo,” she said, casual like always, as if she hadn't just made him stare blankly at his screen for five whole minutes.
“hey,” he mumbled, inviting her to the party without missing a beat.
they queued up, the familiar click of the matchmaking sound filling the silence. it was comfortable. their kind of comfortable.
the game loaded in. she picked a dualist. classic.
the whole match felt intense. she was doing reckless moves, some that always worked for her. kenma hung back, watching the kill feed light up with her name over and over.
“you're playing like you've got something to prove,” he muttered, focusing on the game in front of him.
“i do,” she shot back, “proving i’m better than you.”
a smirk tugged on the corner of kenma’s mouth. he didn't say anything. just waited.
a round later, she died early, caught off guard in mid. kenma clutched the round, barely, his last shot shaky but landing anyways.
“lucky,” she said, voice dripping with mock disdain.
“skill issue,” he replied flatly, though he knew what she was capable of.
the next round, she carried again, top fragging like it was second nature.
“see? not luck,” she teased. “just talent.”
kenma’s lip twitched. he didn't let her win. he never had to. she was just that good. but sometimes, he wondered if he played worse on purpose. if only because her victory felt better than his own.
“yeah,” he let out a breathy reply while he bought his loadout for the next round. “guess i'm lucky to have you.”
it slipped out before he could stop it.
silence. just for a second.
then she laughed. light, unbothered, easy.
“damn right you are.”
and kenma didn't reply. because if he did, he'd have to admit that wasn't exactly what he meant.
they kept playing. rounds one after another, easy banter filling in the spaces between kills and callouts. it all just felt natural, like a habit.
then, as the last round ended, a call sound went off from her end.
“oh,” she said, distracted. “i should go.”
kenma’s fingers went stiff on his keyboard. the room suddenly felt quieter, even though she hadn't left yet.
“already?”
she hummed. “mhm. he's waiting for me.”
he.
kenma wasn't stupid. he knew what she felt. the way her voice was just a little softer. the way her focus had already drifted somewhere else.
he stared at her name in the game, wishing she wouldn't leave.
“i'll catch you later though,” she added. “don't miss me too much.” and the discord ping echoed through his headphones. reminding him of her departure.
kenma exhaled sharply through his nose. ‘don't miss me too much.’ there she was, teasing again. and somehow it helped the pit in his stomach.
he went to the chat with her and typed out ‘glhf.’
a few seconds passed. maybe she wouldn't answer at all. maybe she already moved her whole focus towards that other guy.
then, ‘thanks<3’
kenma blinked at the screen.
he dragged a hand down his face, exhaling into his palm. the little heart sat there, taunting him. a habit. a joke. a hook.
he shut his computer quickly and leaned back on his chair, eyes closing.
“why does the night have to be so beautiful?" as i walk through the night, i remember what mitsutsuka said to me. “because at night, only half the world remains.”
! all the lovers in the night , 2011
synopsis; iwaizumi hajime spends the late hours of the night intently listening to her play his favourite song through the shared wall of their apartment flats.
iwaizumi hajime x fem!reader
trope; next door neighbours
warnings; modern au , angst , no happy ending , suggestive (areas will be marked) , ooc , swearing , short lived romance.
warnings will be displayed at the beginning of each chapter.
playlist , moodboard
i; harvest moon
ii; nausea
ii; a terrible fish
iv; transient
v; vienna
vi; magnolias,
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sweet things haikyuu characters do ( as your bf ) . . . ♡
kōtarō bokuto . . . who asks for 5 more minutes every morning without a doubt. even if hes gotten well over his 9 hours of sleep. “lemme just stay here for a few more please..”. he keeps trying to pull your body closer to his when your already basically fusing together.
atsumu miya . . . who constantly has a hand on you. eating dinner with friends? your hand is in his. laying on the couch and watching a movie? wrapped together in some way or another. even gross and sweaty after a game he's going to get his hands on you no matter how far away you try to get from him.
hajime iwaizumi . . . who cant go 30 minutes w/o checking up on you. he left for work 20 minutes ago and your already getting a “feeling ok?” text. even when you're out with friends he can't help himself but ask if you're having a good time every 20 minutes.
tetsurō kuroo . . . who is obsessed with matching with you. whether it be a profile picture or pajamas. his favorite thing to match though are his jerseys of course. when you show up to a game in one of his bright red jerseys he gets so happy he lovesss to show you off.
keiji akaashi . . . who is probably the best letter writer in the whole world. every birthday, every anniversary and every christmas you better believe your about to get a gold star poem. it'll be filled with the things he adores about you and the things he loves doing with you.
luka couffaine is the friend you will always go to to get advice. his wise words able to resolve all the issues you could have. but the reality of luka couffaine is that even though he can listen to the melody of other people's hearts and guide them to what they really want. he's unable to feel a difference in his own.
“you are not able to get over your first love”, they say. a feeling luka knows all too well. but he doesn’t want that—to be stuck in the past, clinging to the girl he once thought of. he doesn't feel like that is the path he wants to follow. yet something inside keeps him tied to it. his heart yearns for something different, but the echoes of the past still make it hard to hear anything new.
during a gathering, luka’s fingers strummed his guitar while many of his friends sat around him, enjoying the sound of the boy’s playing. they all knew he had talent. after all, he was known as a prodigy. while his fingers focused on the strings, luka’s eyes focused on two things. first, sitting among the small crowd in front of him was a couple that seemed to be smiling from ear to ear. the hand of the blonde boy rested on top of his girlfriend’s. her blue eyes locked in on his. she never looked at luka that way before.
luka himself knew not to be offended by his ex-girlfriends past actions. as for the little time he was with her, he tried to force the idea that she loved him into his head. definitely not something he’s proud of.
his gaze drifted to the second thing that caught his eye. the girl sitting near by, laughing softly as she whispered something to her friend zoé. the smiley girl was a year younger than the rest, but she blended with the friend group so easily. and luka knew why. maybe it was a mix of things, but he likes to think it was her gentle nature. the kind that made people feel at ease.
luka, who always felt the need to bring peace to others, found that with her, he finally felt it himself. it was comfortable, being next to her, like he didn't owe anything to anyone. her way just made things feel real.
after he played a few more songs, everyone just returned to conversations. luka, stood up and approached the punch, his throat sore and in need of something refreshing. while pouring himself a cup he heard a delicate voice from behind.
“you sounded so good.”
he turned his head at her voice and met her eyes, making his heart flutter at the sight. “you think so?” he replied back to her.
she nodded her head, her grin becoming wider. “i think it was awesome, you truly are incredible luka couffaine.”
there it was again. that feeling. like his heart was shifting keys mid-song. it was so strange, unexpected, but not unwelcome.
he swallowed, trying to regain his composure. “thank you.” he said, a little quieter than normal.
she tilted her head slightly, as if debating something before shaking the thought away and smiling again. “you should teach me how to play sometime.”
a laugh threatened to escape him, not because he found it funny, but because of course she would say something like that. his fingers curled slightly, recalling the feeling of the strings beneath them. then he pictured her with her hands on a guitar. his guitar. and there was the flutter again, how can this keep happening?
“yeah, yeah.” he said, trying to sound casual but the words coming out a little too eager. he cleared his throat before speaking again. “i can teach you.” and once again he felt his heart going faster. as if she was killing him softly with her words and looks. but for luka it felt like the notes of his new favorite song.
as the night carried on, luka found his eyes going back to her, and his body moving closer to her presence than he intended to. it wasn't just the way her lips moved when she talked, or how her eyes reflected the dim glow of the fairy lights above. it was the way she understood. she wasn't just hearing his music, she was feeling it.
at one point, she laughed at something zoé said, and the sound tugged on his chest in a way that he hadn't expected. like a guitar that had just been strung. the vibrations feeling like a quiet hum settling beneath his ribs. it wasn’t loud or overwhelming, just a gentle presence, steady and real, like something waiting to be acknowledged. it was warm, easy, and unburdened. so unlike the emotions he used to chase.
he never had to wonder what she was thinking, never had to decode the meaning behind her words. she was simply there, and for the first time in a long while, he realized how much he liked that.
and yet, somehow, the thought of feeling something different, something new, made his fingers tense against the strings of his guitar. was it really that simple?
he had spent countless nights believing that love was something difficult. that it came with waiting, longing, and trying to be what someone else needed. but this? this didn't feel like chasing something just out of reach. it didn't feel like random chords thrown together. it felt like a progression—each note falling into place, creating the perfect harmonic tune. it felt right.
and maybe that was the biggest surprise of all. not that he was moving on, but that he already had.
“you okay?” her voice spoke from behind, softly but curious. luka blinked. snapping back to reality.
“yeah,” he breathed out, giving her a small smile. and maybe for the first time, he actually meant those words.
while looking at her bright eyes and soft lips, and the look of genuine care in her face. it had finally hit him. not in a grand, sweeping way, but in the quiet certainty of a heart that had already moved on before he even noticed.
after always feeling like his life was played to the tune of the same song. that the strings on his guitar were only capable of playing that same melody. he has finally realized that his life cannot be told by the same repeated sounds. the strings of his guitar can play different songs. his heart has a different tune now. it’s not the same overused one that has dictated him for so long. it’s a new song. a new song made for her.
a second chance tobio kageyama fanfic based on the alchemy by taylor swift where they used to be best friends but oc/reader moves to italy, distance breaking off their friendship and any possible romance they could've had. years later, tobio is part of italian team, ali roma, he's at the peak of his career and about to leave for japan to practice for the 2024 olympics. just a week before his departure, they meet again. memories of their old friendship flooding back in. but this little meeting isn’t the last they’ll see of each other as oc/reader has been assigned to cover the italy men's national volleyball team’s journey through the olympics, meaning she and tobio will meet once again in paris, city of love.
she says she doesn't want him. he aches for her all over again. how will their relationship develop for better or worse in the midst of the world’s grandest stage?
tsukishima bites out a "stop comparing me to the moon!" angrily at you as he walks you home on a cold winter evening from the library. you pace yourself to catch up with him and his long legs to ask him why and with an angry pout stops in his tracks and turns to look at you squarely, "i know im cold and indifferent but i dont want to hear it from you!" as he stomps his feet to keep walking. you're dumbfounded, frozen in your tracks as the ice on the hedge next to you has freezemarks too. he doesnt realize for a few beats that you arent following and turns around, his cheeks red from more than just the biting cold. you smile warmly at him before you turn your head towards the sky, towards the moon. he notices the way your eyes are filled with adoration but he sucks in his teeth. "you're neither cold nor indifferent, kei. you're beautiful and you ground me. when you're close i react, like the sea and the moon, you affect me, you know?" you slowly walk toward him, half-expecting him to click his tongue before turning around to keep walking, but he stays and it takes everything in him to not widen his eyes too noticeably. when youre close you reach out to take both his hands in yours, emboldened by the way you're able to confess so poetically, deciding you'll never get another chance like this. "you're a guiding, grounding planet for me to orbit and you always warm me. when it's darkest, you're creating light simply by being near me."
he juts out his bottom lip to hold back a hitched breath, purposely looking at the way your hands fit with his, instead of your eyes. he knows they're sparkling because he knows you and even with closed eyes he can describe you. he could be apart from you for centuries and he would still be able to describe the different ways your eyes shine depending on which subject. "you do know nothing orbits the moon, right?" he asks when you're done and you cant hold back the laugh you bark out to diffuse your own nervousness. the grip on his hands tightens, "of course there is, its just not planets, its spacecrafts!" and he looks at you surprised. you look at him with a sly smile, "perhaps i was sent to find you."
he jerks his hands back and into his pockets, groaning at your cheesy line. you laugh at his knee-jerk reaction before your own hands dive into his pockets as well and you lean up against him with a smirk, "i dont want you to feel like you have to return any feelings but... think about it, alright? otherwise you'll break my spacecraft."
his hand travels to your face to push you away, "shut up please. i really wanted to kiss you but then you went and said that stupid shit again." you laugh and to his surprise, kiss the hand thats squashing your face. he pulls back in surprise and pride fills you at the way his ears are burning too. "shut up," he bites out before he leans down and hurriedly presses his lips to yours. you clash awkwardly and his teeth hits your underlip, but its perfect because its your first kiss together and therell be plenty more to come.
