Hi! If you're new to my blog, I'm Haru (20+ she/xe/they). I really love sharing my emotions and thoughts through my works. I hope you enjoy reading :) currently writing for haikyuu & genshin
📬 16+ blog; sfw & nsfw, minors dni with nsfw posts, not spoiler free
masterlist ▏ moonshine ▏ byf/dni ▏writing tag #keybored ▏
💌 recent treats
kuroo x gn reader fluff !
everybody's falling in love but me ; sakusa x gn reader
To him ; Miya Osamu x gn reader
💌 on-going series
six degrees of separation ; Kuroo Tetsurou x gn reader
—pairing: miya atsumu x gender neutral! reader; genre: fluff, light angst, established relationship au! timeskip au!; wc: 1.3k
haikyuu masterlist
It’s quiet.
The clock ticks. 2 AM. It’s way too late for a professional athlete like miya atsumu to still be awake. He has to be up in 3 hours for his daily run. A quick breakfast. A day of side hustles– a shoot; a podcast interview. Then training. He should be asleep. He needs all the energy he can get.
But he just can’t.
He watches his screen intently. Shion receives the ball perfectly, as usual. It heads towards him. Atsumu jumps; he sets. It’s off. The amount of force wasn’t right. Bokuto adjusts and spikes the ball, only to be blocked.
The match ends. They lost.
Atsumu’s frown deepens. He replays that final rally. Pausing. Zooming in. What is it? Why did he not set it with the right force? Was his footing off? Did he miscalculate? Maybe he should have set it to Sakusa… or Hinata? The opposing team read his moves like a book. He should have known. He should have gone for a drop instead. Catch them off guard. Or maybe a 1-2 play with–
“—Tsumu?”
Atsumu blinks. His inner turmoil silenced. Your soft voice, laden with sleep cuts through the noise in his head. You stand in the hallway, clad in his hoodie and lounge shorts. Hair a mess; eyes drooping. It’s clear that you’ve just woken up.
He doesn’t say anything. He just stares. Eyes trying to reign in the flurry within. He doesn’t want to bother you. Not when he gets like this. Not when the loss sits heavy on his shoulders and he feels the weight of responsibility press deeper into his being.
But you see him anyway. You always do.
Your eyes shift to the laptop on the desk. Paused at the moment where the opposing team is celebrating and Atsumu, while a small figure on screen, is still. Processing. Like the loss hadn’t fully sunk in until now.
You slowly make your way to Atsumu. He watches your every move, holding his breath. He doesn’t mean to. But he crumbles under your presence. You are the sun. Warmth and comfort and light. You melt everything within your presence. And Atsumu doesn’t know if he can handle your warmth wrapping around the cold chill he’s succumbed himself to.
You sit beside him, arm wrapping around his. Head leaning on his shoulder. There’s a silence that surrounds you. Of understanding. Your touch is soft but steady. A gentle reminder that you see him. Even when he’s trying to hide from you. You see him. All of him.
“The bed’s cold without you…” is all you say. A whisper. Your cheek is smushed on top of his shoulder. You nuzzle into him. Atsumu relaxes, slightly. He places his free hand on top of yours. Rubbing his calloused fingers atop your hand gently.
“‘M sorry sweetheart. I’ll be with ya in a minute…” He squeezes your hands. Intertwined. “Don’t wait up for me.”
You say nothing for a while and Atsumu is scared that he’s upset you. He doesn’t know what to say. Not when his thoughts plague him like this. They haunt his very being. His soul. He doesn’t want to bare the weight of it to you.
“Y’know…” you finally whisper, eyes glued to the screen in front of the two of you. “There was this lovely family in front of me at the bleachers yesterday.”
“And the lil’ kid… he was dressed like ya.” You let out a soft chuckle, eyes growing fond as you recalled the memory. “It was cute. He was wearing your jersey number too. It was like seeing a mini you.”
A smile graces your lips, and Atsumu finds himself chuckling. There were stars in your eyes. A fondness that complemented your warmth.
“And every time you served or scored a point, he was cheering so loud. Maybe even louder than I did,” you joked, grinning up at him. The image tugs at Atsumu’s heart strings, and he can almost see it. You, in the stadium bleachers. Cheering amongst the fans. An image that gives him strength.
“Looks like you’ve got competition for my number one fan spot, sweetheart,” he teases. There’s a playful glint in his eyes. One that has you smiling in retaliation.
“Oh please, as if I’d let a kid steal my place.” You giggle, rolling your eyes playfully. “Besides, can that kid, or anyone of that matter say that they’re all cozy with the miya atsumu at 2 AM? I don’t think so.”
You squeeze his hand over yours, affirming. Steady. Sure. There’s something about the way you grasp him. As if you’re holding him together. He’s breaking apart, and yet you’re here. You haven’t left. You’re not letting him succumb to the darkness of his mind.
“But you know…” You say, the silence between the two of you settling. It’s a bit lighter, more easy-going. Like Atsumu can finally breathe. “When you guys lost… that kid wasn’t sad at all.”
Atsumu looks at you, eyebrows raised. “Rather he was pretty happy. You know why?”
“Did he realize that he liked the other team more?” He jokes. But there’s a shred of vulnerability in his tone. He’s insecure. His turmoil haunts him.
Atsumu doesn’t always let losses weigh him down this bad. His world is constantly moving. He can’t afford to dwell in misery. But there are times. Times when the match gets a little too heated. Times where he gets more invested in the game. Times where, when the loss is partially due to him, it stings.
“No, silly.” You laugh, smiling at him. “He was happy, because even if you lost the match… he got to see you play. Win or lose he saw his favorite player on court.”
Atsumu’s stunned. Unable to comprehend. Did people really see him like that? Even when he lost? Even when he wasn’t the star player he always strived to be?
“He saw Miya Atsumu– star setter of the MSBY Jackals.” You smile. It’s a bit more mellow. Sad. You know how atsumu tends to think. For all the grandeur he presents to the world; underneath, there was always the kind boy who wished to be more. Who strived for greatness. Who wore his heart on his sleeve. Who loved. Fiercely. Passionately.
“And that didn’t change just because you had one loss.” Atsumu looks into your eyes. Love. A love so true. Constant through the years. A love that held him up when he fell down. A love that comforted, soothed. Embraced him. All of him.
Atsumu chuckles. He brings you into his embrace, burying his face on your head. He holds you tight. You reciprocate. Your warm embrace chipping away at the hurricane raging in his mind. It winds down, and in its wake is something broken, yet whole.
Whole because everything is right in the world. Whole because, for all his mistakes, his flaws, and his insecurities, you stayed. You heard him. You saw him.
“How do ya always know what to say, sweetheart?” He mumbles. His grip loose, arm going underneath your (his) hoodie, rubbing comforting circles around your back. You smile into his chest, fiddling with the hem of his shirt.
“Perks of being your number one fan.”
Atsumu laughs. It’s hearty, full. And you beam at him, happy that your words got through to him.
“Ya got me there.” He picks you up in his arms, startling you. Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck. Heart beating faster as you look up at him. Atsumu presses a soft kiss to your forehead, staying. Head against yours. Like all was right in the world.
“Let’s get ya back to bed.” And he walks, with you in his arms. And this time, you fall fast asleep. The bed is warm. Atsumu is where he needs to be.
All is right in the world.
wie first fic!! hope everyone likes it :>> (plsplspls)
Your boyfriend's a little competitive. It's evident at his own games— which makes sense—but it's amusing to see him now. At a match that's not his own, not even his own sport.
You've joined him at a basketball game, a sport you quickly realised early in the relationship he loves.
So now you stand in a buzzing crowd, in Kuroo's favorite team's jersey, which he bought, and you're waving ridiculous foam finger, aslo courtousey of him. You’d begged for it, and, well… how could he say no to you?
It's loud. So loud. And truthfully, you don't have much of an idea what's exactly going on. But you’ve learned to cheer when Kuroo cheers, and that’s good enough for both of you. Especially when it makes him happy, happy enough to grab your hand, or sneak a quick kiss if his team is doing really well.
Right now, you glance at him. His fists are currently balled up, brought closely to his face. You can feel the tension in him and all over the arena. Yet you can't help but smirk thinking of a particular movie scene.
And maybe it's a little cruel to mess with him now, during this game, one he’s been hyping up for weeks, but the urge is too strong.
"Surou," You blurt. Your hands reach to grab his flexed biceps.
He doesn't tear his eye off the court, but you know he's heard you when he tilts his head in your direction. "What's wrong, baby?"
You smirked, tightening your grip on him. "I'm a little thirsty.." You trial off, waiting.
For a second, he appears unfazed, lost in the game. But once his words register, he finally looks your way, and he meets you with a slight pout. He raises his eyebrows.
"Right now? Babe-"
The crowd erupts before he can finish, a player narrowly missing a shot. His head snaps back to the action, but your hand stays on his arm, and your gaze doesn’t waver.
"Babe," You tug on him, eyes wide, voice teasing. "I really could go for a nice, cold Coke."
That's when you feel him ease up, his arms lowered to his sides. You can feel the gears turning in his head, his eyes still following the players. He lets out a big sigh, too long and dramatic
"Ok, baby. With ice," He says, already reaching for his wallet and turning.
But you grab his hand and pull him back.
"No, no, no." You laugh. "I'm just kidding, Tetsurou. Watch the game, I can wait."
You get onto your tiptoes, lips puckered. It takes a second for him to realize he’s been played, but when he does, his eyes widen, and then soften.
Nonetheless, leans down and gives you a soft kiss. His fingers fully interlaced with your fingers. When he pulls away, he wears a charming smile, shaking his head.
Then his eyes are back on the court, grin still tugging at the corners of his mouth.
And when his team scores the final point, the arena explodes. His hands raise up in excitement, dragging your arms up with him, and you both scream along with the crowd. Despite not knowing much about the sport, you find yourself pretty content.
Even more so when you file out of the arena with a large Coke in one hand, your other hand still intertwined with Kuroo's.
"You happy?" He asks, placing a delicate kiss on your forehead.
"Yeah," You say, eyes crinkled with the proof.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
inspired by 10 Things I Hate About You i mean come on i couldn't resist
You (Age __) fell in love with a co-worker M (Age __) What to do?
Clutching your purse at a black-tie event, you rush through hotel hallways, heels clicking against polished floors, frantically hunting for the comfort room hidden in the hotel’s maze-like corners.
Damn these corner comfort rooms.
Almost there.
Five minutes left.
Seriously? who designed this place? Who thought placing bathrooms in the most inconvenient corners was a good idea?
You’re running out of time. Foreign delegates will be arriving any moment now.
Three minutes.
You finally spot the comfort room, tucked so far away it could double as a portal to Narnia.
Business done. No time to breathe.
Zero minutes left.
You bolt back to your post, smoothing your outfit and mentally preparing yourself. You're an usher for an international conference,high-stakes, high-pressure, high heels. Every hall is dressed with lights. Every room smells like fresh linens and money. Buffets sprawl at every corner. You like it here. The pace, the pressure, it all makes your heart race in the best way.
Speaking of things that make your heart race.
A raven-haired man approaches. He walks like he knows people are watching, and they are. His hairstyle screams "prepped for an hour," but his grin says “born with it.” It’s the same grin he’s worn since Day 1 of your internship—charming, practiced, impossible.
He locks eyes with you for three seconds—no more.
“I’m not your target audience, Kuroo,” you say, raising an unimpressed eyebrow.
“Either I’m malfunctioning, or your vision’s messed up,” he replies, leaning casually against the registration counter.
“My vision’s perfect. I just see through your charming façade, you sly fox.” You didn’t mean to say that last part. A mistake. He notices.
He steps closer, the kind of distance meant for co-workers, no more, no less.
“So you think I’m charming?” he teases. Dangerous question. No right answers, all roads lead to exposure.
“I just said the first adjective that came to mind,” you reply a little too fast.
“Like predictive text,” he grins, eyes glinting.
“Weird analogy,” you mutter, “but I’ll take every compliment.” You notice him step again. The distance now, friend-like.
“But you always dodge when I call you pretty.” Another dangerous statement. More layered than it should be. You can't let him figure you out.
“Shouldn’t you be guiding those guests?” you ask, nodding toward some delegates who’ve been circling the hall for three minutes.
“Nice dodge.” He chuckles, hands slipping into his pockets as he steps even closer. “Would it hurt to have a normal conversation?”
Now, the space between you two is something more. Intimate. Not romantic. But definitely not professional.
“Kuroo, we’re interns. Shouldn’t we focus on productivity?” you say, more to yourself than to him.
A reminder. You need it. You’re days away from completing the internship. You started earlier than him. You even extended—not because of him, at least not entirely. Just a few more days, and this business relationship ends. You’ll move on, become an official corporate slave.
You read all the forums. The posts. The warnings about falling for a co-worker, even if it’s “just a crush.” You almost followed them. Until they assigned you and Kuroo to the same department. Until he was smart, dependable, and somehow charming even when he wasn’t trying.
Thanks to him, the overwhelming workload became something else—less crushing, even fun.
“I’m trying to build rapport with my co-intern,” he says, patting his chest proudly. “That’s very productive of me. Good job, self.”
“Fine,” you say with a sigh. “But this is my last event. I want to end it strong.”
Something in his expression shifts. His grin falters.
“I thought you were still handling the fashion show next week?” he asks, concern coloring his voice. “I already drafted a proposal.”
Kuroo might joke often, but when it comes to work, he delivers. He’s sharp, attentive, empathetic. You can picture him thriving in management. He reads people like a strategist, adapts like a leader. He doesn’t just complete tasks—he understands people.
He’s been staring too long. He knows it. It’s Day 3 of this event, and he still hasn’t found the courage to tell you how stunning you look in a formal outfit. If this weren’t a professional setting, he’d imagine this night as a date in disguise—five-star hotel, candlelit halls, you beside him.
But you keep reminding him of the boundary.
Still, if he were the type to give up, he’d have done it a long time ago.
Working with you changed everything. He once considered transferring to a different company. Not anymore. Watching you problem-solve, watching your ideas take shape. It made his heart skip. A different kind of ambition was born.
But now, hearing you're really leaving, the smile drops from his face.
You want to believe it’s just a business connection, but the way his expression falls...it stings.
He glances down, then back up. You realize he’s moved even closer. Too close for just colleagues.
You say nothing.
And that silence worries him.
He remembers the day he thought you ghosted him over a pending email, only to receive a private message saying you were sick. He’d panicked. You don’t know how much.
“So you’re leaving,” he says. Not a question. He already knows.
You nod.
But just as his shoulders begin to drop—
Ding.
Both your phones light up.
One unread email.
Subject: Job Offer for Full-Time Position – Congratulations!
You blink. He stares at you. You stare at him. Then you both look again.
You’ve both been absorbed into the company. Different departments. Separate paths.
Still quiet, you glance at him, unsure of what to say.
That night, Kuroo drafts an email to HR.
Hi! Just wondering if inter-departmental job shadowing or rotations are allowed for new hires. I'd love the chance to observe Department X when time permits. I think there's a lot to learn from their approach…
He rereads it once. Then adds a line.
Also, some projects are best handled when great partners are allowed to work together again.
Then he hits send.
Just because your titles changed, doesn’t mean your story has to end.
a/n: kinda based on my experience during my internship. I had a crush on my co-intern who was definitely a subtle flirt and I cannot tell any of my friends about our convos cause I was shy lol. and I can't help but remember kuroo in him. we parted ways ofc but connected on linkedin haha idk if we'll meet again
life lately !!
I'm done with uni, so close to graduating, now entering my first big girl corpo job. And I will try to write again, kind of because I feel like I need to sort out my life which can be done through writing.
I have watched Kimetsu no yaiba and it was great! Right now I am watching The Sandman and loving it so far
anyways, I must get back on writing soon!
icic you have a kuroo fic hidden here (・｀ω´・) asdfghjkl include me in the taglist 😍
omg I'm happy you saw it!! target audience talaga kita haha but I'm actually stuck on a writer's block 😭 doctor says the only cure is irl kuroo knocking at my door
Hii you may know/followed me for my on going series for Kuroo
I'll be right back. I'm currently finishing thesis for my undergrad so my writing sched is err, compromised. I'm writing in my spare time, I haven't published it yet though, still revising some parts of the series :)
Btw I have finished watching the haikyuu movie with my friend. I went to see Tsukki and went home giggling about Kuroo. I wish I could talk about the haikyuu movie all day what if I do
Yo guys I'm still here but def gotten busy due to thesis stuff
I still work on my wips from time to time and I've been watching a little bit of anime to catch up with some fandoms, I'd still like to stay relevant /sighs
And +++ if anyone of you are theatre kids, you can recommend me some. I'm still in my heathers phase tho, also ride the cyclone got great songs imo
It takes 20 to 500 years for a plastic to break down, and for Kuroo Tetsurou, it takes a month.
He drags his feet towards the door, unlocking it. He rubs his eyes, yawning, must be already 3 pm, but at least he was able to sleep. at least, even for a few hours.
He drags his hand on his face, feeling his stubble, it’s been a few days since he last shaved. You didn’t mind him with this look. You tell him he looks like those mafia men you see on your instagram reels when he is in his suit, and in pajamas, he looks like that burn out dad who takes care of three kindergarteners and a rebel high school daughter. He smiles sadly at the memory.
He looks at the packages at his doorstep. There were a few parcels and a box. His phone chimes.
Order delivered.
Order delivered.
Order delivered.
There was one without notification, the largest. It is a box with the width of his body and a height just below his knee. It did not have the label of the online shopping platform.
It was not something he wanted.
He sees your name from the label of sender.
Maybe it was something he needed.
With both of his hands, he picks up the box, ever so gently, afraid of breaking precious things, something he was not able to do before. He uses his feet to kick the three parcels inside of his apartment.
Kuroo walks around his living room. The box seems like staring at him intently, still unopened on his coffee table. It was a silent testament to everything he had lost and everything he yearned to regain. He couldn't bring himself to open it, afraid of confronting the memories it held within—memories that would only deepen the ache in his heart.
He wants to run to you, apologize a thousand times, but he could not fix what was broken.
He opens the box after almost an hour.
A hoodie, a board game, sleeping mask, other small items. He didn’t mind if you kept these anyway, most of them belongs to you, at least when you were his. Now, there are no reasons for you to keep these, or keep memories of him.
Among the items in the box, he was worried the most on the stack of polaroid photos. Why would also return him the photos of you together?
Was it to remind him what he lost? Was he really out of your life?
His fingers lingered on the photographs, tracing the contours of your smile, the warmth in your eyes. The first photo, marked on the first month you met, when he lets you lean on his shoulders while he plays that game he immediately bought because the main character reminds him so much of you. And when you are not around, at least he could remember you, even in his hobbies.
Second photo, on the fourth month, it’s simply a photo of you together smiling. He remembers how often his friends would pull you whenever Kuroo would get frustrated. Because the frown on his face would slowly disappear, and a wave of bliss would embrace him whenever he sees you.
Third photo, the seventh month, you are in his arms. That was the first time he saw you cry. He wanted to see you cry, not hide them from him. He would like you to feel safe and vulnerable around him, because he was willing to stay through it all.
Fourth photo, the ninth month, in an expensive dinner date where you laughed with him because of his clip-on tie. Kuroo was too nervous that he felt his necktie choking him. Everything about you just makes him nervous.
He picks up the polaroid. And he remembers how everything about you is pretty and all he ever wanted to see you. When he wakes up, and before he sleeps. Your hair, your clothes, and even the makeup styles you try. He wishes he could see you right now, in those unmatching pajamas, with that soft smile on your lips.
Kuroo was willing to give up anything just to spend his day telling how pretty you are, and how much he still loves you.
It was love, as he believed. This feeling. He was satisfied of how things are. Too satisfied he barely noticed the cracks that started to form.
He knows he was at fault. But he is unsure if getting back together would be healthy for both of you. He loved you, but he feared that blindly embracing that love would only lead to more pain than happiness—for both of you.
He feels standing in a road, in the middle of nowhere, as twilight surrounds him, and he has a few hours before the sun hides. Before he becomes lost in darkness forever.
He doesn’t want to lose you. Too bad, he already did.
Kuroo wishes.
hopes.
silently prays.
pleads.
just one sign—
His phone is ringing. A random pop song plays. Your name appears. He reminds himself to visit a temple later and offer his gratitude.
He wastes no time picking up your call.
[Greetings and salutations.]
Kuroo tries to hold his laugh.
[Meet me at this address I will send in a minute. At 7 pm.]
Kuroo was about to say something. maybe apology, or how he misses you. But he stayed silent. His mouth kept shut, like what he did before. He hates himself why he stayed silent that night.
[Oh. And I called, not texted, because this is urgent.]
“Sure, good—”
You ended the call.
Well, at least that was a start, Kuroo thinks.
It’s just 5 pm. But Kuroo, like an anxiety driven teenage boy getting ready for a first date, hurried to his closet to pick an outfit. He pauses for a moment, worried at his own excitement.
Kuroo arrives ten minutes before the agreed time. Just outside of the building. He was confused if he got the address right. Because that building is a law firm. So now you’re suing him?
His attention shifted when he noticed your familiar silhouette. a little girl is in your arms, and you are smiling at a man who is making the girl laugh, in front of a law firm.
His eyebrows furrowed. A computation runs in his mind. The little girl seemed to be 3 years of age based on her height. Were you married and had a family in just a month? He shakes his head, that’s impossible right? He hasn’t moved on yet and you have a family? And why at the law firm?
You turn around and caught the moment his face was still in a frown. You offer a small smile to acknowledge him.
Kuroo walks towards you, but he felt his feet dragging across the sidewalk. His feet feel like sinking in the cement. He looks down to see if it was under construction, but it looks perfectly fine, maybe he was the one who isn’t.
“We can talk in my office, it’s cold out here.”
Kuroo only nods at the man who spoke, trying his best not to look at your direction. He can’t look at you, even how much badly he wants to.
Once you were all settled into the office, a stern-looking man maybe in his early 30s, began to speak.
"Thank you both for coming on such short notice", he started, shuffling some papers on his desk.
Hmm, so he is a lawyer. Kuroo looks at the nameplate on his table.
"As you might have guessed, we're here to discuss the future of little Rika." the lawyer says before Kuroo could overthink the possibility of you suing him for breaking your heart. And even if you did sue him, he would immediately say he’s guilty.
Kuroo glanced at you, but your face was unreadable. The furrow on his eyebrows deepened. But after seeing Rika, he felt a sense of relief that you don’t have a daughter, or husband, and was not married at all. But Kuroo was still confused at the situation.
You try to ignore Kuroo’s stares. Calling him was already a life-threatening risk you took earlier. Sure, you kind of moved on. But you can only feel you are over it when he is not around.
"The deceased named both of you as the primary guardians in the event of her untimely death. That's why Rika is here." The lawyer gestured towards the child who was currently occupied with a coloring book on a nearby table.
“Deceased? Guardians?” Kuroo asks. “I think I’m missing something” He looks at Rika then you, “a lot actually.”
Without looking at him you reply, “Reiko had an accident this morning.”
“Reiko? you mean our neighbor?” Before Kuroo could even correct the word ‘our’, you nodded.
Reiko was your neighbor but moved out a month ago. Your friendship began after complaining to the landlord who asks payment for rent more than what has been written in the contract. As a single mom, Reiko was struggling to balance her time too. Because of that, you and Kuroo would offer to babysit Rika during afternoons so Reiko could rest.
You were not able to tell her that you and Kuroo broke up. You felt that Reiko was getting busy trying to look for a daycare for Rika. You only told her Kuroo was busy and only you could babysit Rika for the past few weeks.
“The funeral was brief.” you took a deep breath before continuing, “you know she had no family, her late husband was also an orphan, there’s no one—no one else for Rika” the last line was almost a whisper, you tried your best to hide the crack in your voice.
Kuroo felt a pang in his chest.
You have not yet accepted the grief. After your struggles, you felt your emotions getting locked. Your body felt stiff and freezing after hearing the doctors declare her death but could only cry after realizing Reiko was not simply sleeping and was actually gone. Your tears were able to release the pain you felt but you were unable to face the reality of losing someone. Someone you trusted, cared, loved.
“I want to help as much as I can” Kuroo says, hesitancy present in his tone. "…but we're not actually together anymore," Kuroo blurted out, his eyes darting between you and the lawyer.
Kuroo fidgets with his hand, "And I... I’m not sure about raising a child."
The lawyer gave a small nod, "I understand your concerns, Mr. Kuroo. But the deceased had clearly stated in her will that both of you were her first choice. She trusted you two."
"But there must be other options, right? Does she have any relatives? What about adoption?" Kuroo asked, desperation seeping into his voice. It’s not like he doesn’t want to take care of Rika, who is now looking at him with curiosity.
Kuroo has been questioning himself a lot lately. He was not able to take care of you to make you stay. He was lacking in all dimensions not just a boyfriend, but as a person too. How could he even know he can take care of a child?
He can take care of Rika, provide her needs, give her love and attention. But he feels broken himself.
Kuroo is afraid to raise a child when he himself is also just a child who needs to grow up.
"Adoption is indeed an option," the lawyer said, his voice calm and steady, "but it's not the ideal situation. The transition for the child can be quite difficult, and she would have to adjust to a completely new environment. Besides, she knows you two. You're familiar to her. That's a comfort."
Your mind was running different trails of thought. Reiko, who became your best friend, is really gone. You feel your heart clenching for Rika, who lost her mother at a young age. Most importantly, you want to take care of Rika, regardless of being with Kuroo or not.
Kuroo looked at you and Rika then, pleading in his eyes. "We could try, for Rika’s sake," he suggested, almost begged. "We could...we could figure this out. Together?” he sounded so unsure.
You were silent most of the time, only responding to the lawyer through nod and shrugs.
Rika walks towards you, drawing hearts on your palm. As if she was giving her heart in your hand.
"Let's do it," you said, surprising Kuroo. He looked at you, his eyes wide with surprise and disbelief. "We owe it to Reiko,” you hold Rika’s little hands, “and to Rika."
The lawyer nodded, seemingly pleased with your decision. "That's a wise decision. I'll prepare the necessary papers and we'll have to go through a few legal procedures. In the meantime, you two should decide on the living arrangements."
Kuroo nodded, his mind racing with questions and worries. He glanced at you, and you gave him a small smile. It was a smile of reassurance, of understanding. It was a smile that told him, no matter what happened before or what the future holds, you are now in this together. And that gave him the strength he needed.
As you left the office, Kuroo took a look back at Rika who is now in your arms. She was looking at the stars that filled the sky, oblivious to the changes happening around her. He felt a strange sense of responsibility towards her. And he knew, at that moment, that he would do everything he could to make her feel loved and safe.
For the first time since you met tonight, you met his gaze.
And for a moment, just a moment, Kuroo thought he saw a flicker of hope.
As Kuroo and you separated ways, the future remained uncertain. You had agreed to raise Rika together, but where did that leave your relationship?
hello lovely hoomans! I hope your day is as beautiful as you. this chapter reminded me of the people I miss, lost, and the relationships I want to fix. it's sad how love feels stronger and painful when the people you love are no longer there
It takes 20 to 500 years for a plastic to break down, and for Kuroo Tetsurou, it takes a month.
He drags his feet towards the door, unlocking it. He rubs his eyes, yawning, must be already 3 pm, but at least he was able to sleep. at least, even for a few hours.
He drags his hand on his face, feeling his stubble, it’s been a few days since he last shaved. You didn’t mind him with this look. You tell him he looks like those mafia men you see on your instagram reels when he is in his suit, and in pajamas, he looks like that burn out dad who takes care of three kindergarteners and a rebel high school daughter. He smiles sadly at the memory.
He looks at the packages at his doorstep. There were a few parcels and a box. His phone chimes.
Order delivered.
Order delivered.
Order delivered.
There was one without notification, the largest. It is a box with the width of his body and a height just below his knee. It did not have the label of the online shopping platform.
It was not something he wanted.
He sees your name from the label of sender.
Maybe it was something he needed.
With both of his hands, he picks up the box, ever so gently, afraid of breaking precious things, something he was not able to do before. He uses his feet to kick the three parcels inside of his apartment.
Kuroo walks around his living room. The box seems like staring at him intently, still unopened on his coffee table. It was a silent testament to everything he had lost and everything he yearned to regain. He couldn't bring himself to open it, afraid of confronting the memories it held within—memories that would only deepen the ache in his heart.
He wants to run to you, apologize a thousand times, but he could not fix what was broken.
He opens the box after almost an hour.
A hoodie, a board game, sleeping mask, other small items. He didn’t mind if you kept these anyway, most of them belongs to you, at least when you were his. Now, there are no reasons for you to keep these, or keep memories of him.
Among the items in the box, he was worried the most on the stack of polaroid photos. Why would also return him the photos of you together?
Was it to remind him what he lost? Was he really out of your life?
His fingers lingered on the photographs, tracing the contours of your smile, the warmth in your eyes. The first photo, marked on the first month you met, when he lets you lean on his shoulders while he plays that game he immediately bought because the main character reminds him so much of you. And when you are not around, at least he could remember you, even in his hobbies.
Second photo, on the fourth month, it’s simply a photo of you together smiling. He remembers how often his friends would pull you whenever Kuroo would get frustrated. Because the frown on his face would slowly disappear, and a wave of bliss would embrace him whenever he sees you.
Third photo, the seventh month, you are in his arms. That was the first time he saw you cry. He wanted to see you cry, not hide them from him. He would like you to feel safe and vulnerable around him, because he was willing to stay through it all.
Fourth photo, the ninth month, in an expensive dinner date where you laughed with him because of his clip-on tie. Kuroo was too nervous that he felt his necktie choking him. Everything about you just makes him nervous.
He picks up the polaroid. And he remembers how everything about you is pretty and all he ever wanted to see you. When he wakes up, and before he sleeps. Your hair, your clothes, and even the makeup styles you try. He wishes he could see you right now, in those unmatching pajamas, with that soft smile on your lips.
Kuroo was willing to give up anything just to spend his day telling how pretty you are, and how much he still loves you.
It was love, as he believed. This feeling. He was satisfied of how things are. Too satisfied he barely noticed the cracks that started to form.
He knows he was at fault. But he is unsure if getting back together would be healthy for both of you. He loved you, but he feared that blindly embracing that love would only lead to more pain than happiness—for both of you.
He feels standing in a road, in the middle of nowhere, as twilight surrounds him, and he has a few hours before the sun hides. Before he becomes lost in darkness forever.
He doesn’t want to lose you. Too bad, he already did.
Kuroo wishes.
hopes.
silently prays.
pleads.
just one sign—
His phone is ringing. A random pop song plays. Your name appears. He reminds himself to visit a temple later and offer his gratitude.
He wastes no time picking up your call.
[Greetings and salutations.]
Kuroo tries to hold his laugh.
[Meet me at this address I will send in a minute. At 7 pm.]
Kuroo was about to say something. maybe apology, or how he misses you. But he stayed silent. His mouth kept shut, like what he did before. He hates himself why he stayed silent that night.
[Oh. And I called, not texted, because this is urgent.]
“Sure, good—”
You ended the call.
Well, at least that was a start, Kuroo thinks.
It’s just 5 pm. But Kuroo, like an anxiety driven teenage boy getting ready for a first date, hurried to his closet to pick an outfit. He pauses for a moment, worried at his own excitement.
Kuroo arrives ten minutes before the agreed time. Just outside of the building. He was confused if he got the address right. Because that building is a law firm. So now you’re suing him?
His attention shifted when he noticed your familiar silhouette. a little girl is in your arms, and you are smiling at a man who is making the girl laugh, in front of a law firm.
His eyebrows furrowed. A computation runs in his mind. The little girl seemed to be 3 years of age based on her height. Were you married and had a family in just a month? He shakes his head, that’s impossible right? He hasn’t moved on yet and you have a family? And why at the law firm?
You turn around and caught the moment his face was still in a frown. You offer a small smile to acknowledge him.
Kuroo walks towards you, but he felt his feet dragging across the sidewalk. His feet feel like sinking in the cement. He looks down to see if it was under construction, but it looks perfectly fine, maybe he was the one who isn’t.
“We can talk in my office, it’s cold out here.”
Kuroo only nods at the man who spoke, trying his best not to look at your direction. He can’t look at you, even how much badly he wants to.
Once you were all settled into the office, a stern-looking man maybe in his early 30s, began to speak.
"Thank you both for coming on such short notice", he started, shuffling some papers on his desk.
Hmm, so he is a lawyer. Kuroo looks at the nameplate on his table.
"As you might have guessed, we're here to discuss the future of little Rika." the lawyer says before Kuroo could overthink the possibility of you suing him for breaking your heart. And even if you did sue him, he would immediately say he’s guilty.
Kuroo glanced at you, but your face was unreadable. The furrow on his eyebrows deepened. But after seeing Rika, he felt a sense of relief that you don’t have a daughter, or husband, and was not married at all. But Kuroo was still confused at the situation.
You try to ignore Kuroo’s stares. Calling him was already a life-threatening risk you took earlier. Sure, you kind of moved on. But you can only feel you are over it when he is not around.
"The deceased named both of you as the primary guardians in the event of her untimely death. That's why Rika is here." The lawyer gestured towards the child who was currently occupied with a coloring book on a nearby table.
“Deceased? Guardians?” Kuroo asks. “I think I’m missing something” He looks at Rika then you, “a lot actually.”
Without looking at him you reply, “Reiko had an accident this morning.”
“Reiko? you mean our neighbor?” Before Kuroo could even correct the word ‘our’, you nodded.
Reiko was your neighbor but moved out a month ago. Your friendship began after complaining to the landlord who asks payment for rent more than what has been written in the contract. As a single mom, Reiko was struggling to balance her time too. Because of that, you and Kuroo would offer to babysit Rika during afternoons so Reiko could rest.
You were not able to tell her that you and Kuroo broke up. You felt that Reiko was getting busy trying to look for a daycare for Rika. You only told her Kuroo was busy and only you could babysit Rika for the past few weeks.
“The funeral was brief.” you took a deep breath before continuing, “you know she had no family, her late husband was also an orphan, there’s no one—no one else for Rika” the last line was almost a whisper, you tried your best to hide the crack in your voice.
Kuroo felt a pang in his chest.
You have not yet accepted the grief. After your struggles, you felt your emotions getting locked. Your body felt stiff and freezing after hearing the doctors declare her death but could only cry after realizing Reiko was not simply sleeping and was actually gone. Your tears were able to release the pain you felt but you were unable to face the reality of losing someone. Someone you trusted, cared, loved.
“I want to help as much as I can” Kuroo says, hesitancy present in his tone. "…but we're not actually together anymore," Kuroo blurted out, his eyes darting between you and the lawyer.
Kuroo fidgets with his hand, "And I... I’m not sure about raising a child."
The lawyer gave a small nod, "I understand your concerns, Mr. Kuroo. But the deceased had clearly stated in her will that both of you were her first choice. She trusted you two."
"But there must be other options, right? Does she have any relatives? What about adoption?" Kuroo asked, desperation seeping into his voice. It’s not like he doesn’t want to take care of Rika, who is now looking at him with curiosity.
Kuroo has been questioning himself a lot lately. He was not able to take care of you to make you stay. He was lacking in all dimensions not just a boyfriend, but as a person too. How could he even know he can take care of a child?
He can take care of Rika, provide her needs, give her love and attention. But he feels broken himself.
Kuroo is afraid to raise a child when he himself is also just a child who needs to grow up.
"Adoption is indeed an option," the lawyer said, his voice calm and steady, "but it's not the ideal situation. The transition for the child can be quite difficult, and she would have to adjust to a completely new environment. Besides, she knows you two. You're familiar to her. That's a comfort."
Your mind was running different trails of thought. Reiko, who became your best friend, is really gone. You feel your heart clenching for Rika, who lost her mother at a young age. Most importantly, you want to take care of Rika, regardless of being with Kuroo or not.
Kuroo looked at you and Rika then, pleading in his eyes. "We could try, for Rika’s sake," he suggested, almost begged. "We could...we could figure this out. Together?” he sounded so unsure.
You were silent most of the time, only responding to the lawyer through nod and shrugs.
Rika walks towards you, drawing hearts on your palm. As if she was giving her heart in your hand.
"Let's do it," you said, surprising Kuroo. He looked at you, his eyes wide with surprise and disbelief. "We owe it to Reiko,” you hold Rika’s little hands, “and to Rika."
The lawyer nodded, seemingly pleased with your decision. "That's a wise decision. I'll prepare the necessary papers and we'll have to go through a few legal procedures. In the meantime, you two should decide on the living arrangements."
Kuroo nodded, his mind racing with questions and worries. He glanced at you, and you gave him a small smile. It was a smile of reassurance, of understanding. It was a smile that told him, no matter what happened before or what the future holds, you are now in this together. And that gave him the strength he needed.
As you left the office, Kuroo took a look back at Rika who is now in your arms. She was looking at the stars that filled the sky, oblivious to the changes happening around her. He felt a strange sense of responsibility towards her. And he knew, at that moment, that he would do everything he could to make her feel loved and safe.
For the first time since you met tonight, you met his gaze.
And for a moment, just a moment, Kuroo thought he saw a flicker of hope.
As Kuroo and you separated ways, the future remained uncertain. You had agreed to raise Rika together, but where did that leave your relationship?
hello lovely hoomans! I hope your day is as beautiful as you. this chapter reminded me of the people I miss, lost, and the relationships I want to fix. it's sad how love feels stronger and painful when the people you love are no longer there
Hiii I might update a bit later than original schedule. We'll have a family dinner since my uncle is leaving the country tomorrow and we hope to spend time with him.
this is as regards the fic six degrees of separation, and tbh I am so happy to work on it and share it, especially knowing there are readers, I appreciate u guys a lot 🫶
⎯ [wc: 2.5k] fluff to angst, has proper closure, but it’s part 1 of a mini six-part series, taglist is open, have a lovely day thanks for reading!
⎯ exes to enemies to lovers
| main masterlist | ♡ | next |
“who made your first love experience tragic, and you almost tear up every time you remember it?” your friend asks, you glance at the folded polaroid behind your phone case.
Kuroo Tetsurou did. But you shake his name away from your head, “just someone who likes this ice cream.”
As the summer breeze warms your cheeks and melts your ice cream, you felt you were back to when it started.
Classes were cancelled that day due to the high heat index and walking home under that sun would be brutal. Or maybe you are just making excuses when you see a raven-haired guy, a popular face among sophomores and freshmen. You notice he often stops by at the convenience store near your university. Maybe it sells some amazing snacks, you thought.
You began to like this specific popsicle the convenience store sells. It has cute designs, some based off on cartoon characters. But what you like about it the most was the short message engraved in the popsicle stick.
Days after, next thing you knew, you were always stopping by at the same convenience store, buying the same ice cream, sitting at the same corner, looking at the same guy.
His eyes were hazel from afar, and you wonder if you would see hints of gold and honey if you could just see him closer. His eyes are often narrowed and piercing, reminds you of a cunning feline's gaze that when he catches you sometime staring at him, it’s as if he has every answer for the questions you have yet to ask.
He’s definitely the athletic type. He could reach the tall shelves in the store and would sometimes help out the staff. He holds out the doors for women and elderly, greeting them when they walk in. He tells the little kids which snacks they should pick, helping them compute the total amount before paying. You also tried out his food recommendations and oh boy, he does not fail. He dances to some convenience store songs, sometimes he does it awkwardly, but most of the time he is actually talented.
You like seeing him smile, that soft genuine smile that appears not so often, but you could only look at him for a few seconds, because god you get weak when he smiles like that. You start to observe the things that makes him smile. His friends, eating, some science jokes you overhear, but so far no relationship partner. That was what you remembered. It was a relief.
You prepared a few conversation starters, but only your gaze tracing his silhouette could pass on the words left unsaid.
You bought the same popsicle you always like, hoping the message engraved on it would be different this time. You got the word unlucky marked on the popsicle stick yesterday, and also the other day, and some days before that.
Today may be the day your streak of misfortune ends before you could even see the message on the popsicle stick. Seems like luck is on your side this time because the guy you find cute takes the seat beside you. That’s new, you think. He was always with his friends. On the opposite table, near the counter, that was their spot. Today, he is alone.
Your hand felt sticky. The popsicle was dripping.
He points at your long-gone ice cream. “I really like that flavor” He smiles. “And that design too.”
You smile at him. I know. You always pick them at the bottom most part of the fridge. You compare their sizes even if they look controversially the same.
You look away after a few seconds, processing the features of his face like how he does have specks of gold in his eyes and that he smiled back. That damn smile. The dripping syrup slowly becomes a hazard to your fresh from laundry white pants. It did not catch your attention. But fortunately, it caught Kuroo’s.
“Excuse me, but your ice cream's got a mind of its own, it seems,” he says. “and you would not want that on white pants.”
“oh no,” Too late. You panic scooping out the falling liquid, still, a few drops painted your pants. “but I just washed this” you say, frowning.
He chuckles lightly, offering a tissue, “here, use this, ice cream stains can be hard to remove,” he hands you the tissue. “I just know”
I know that too. You once bought an ice cream sandwich, bit and kept it at your mouth as you played some games, and forgot you were eating an ice cream. Your white shirt was a disaster after.
“thanks” you took the tissue, cleaning your hand. You tried to remove the stain on your pants after. “that probably looked embarrassing” you kept scrubbing, smiling apologetically.
Kuroo places his hand at the back of his head. “Not really, it happened to me once or twice too”, he looks away, muttering softly, “…and you still look pretty.”
some imaginary audience cheers at the back of his mind, and other side of audience were gripping tightly, unsure if the smile on your face meant ‘that was cringe’ or ‘thanks’
He can’t believe he brags about his natural way with people but took weeks before having the courage to start a conversation with you. His friends would definitely ask him why. He was simply glad you like that ice cream flavor too and he has spare tissues.
you may have traded off a piece of your health from consuming ice cream every day before this conversation happened, but you still thank your past self for that sacrifice.
You remember the first time you met whenever you look back at those two popsicles sticks with engraved messages framed on your wall.
“you know, we could have known each other from jogging in the morning or at a gym” Kuroo looks at you with a raised brow, “but no, we both just have to be unhealthy.”
Kuroo replies with a soft smile, “we had an unhealthy first meet that’s because I was meant to take care of you”.
It started good. Because the feelings that bloomed in your heart may be the same to what Kuroo feels. The evidence of love and affection was written all over the year of your relationship. In each polaroid photo displayed across the wall of your room, you know cupid did his job well.
The first photo, marked on the first month you met, when Kuroo lets you lean on his shoulders while he plays whatever game he just discovered.
Second photo, on the fourth month, there was barely any context, it’s simply a photo of you together smiling. Because when Kuroo smiles, that smile you always love, you know that meant he was happy to see you, how he feels light and at ease with you.
Third photo, the seventh month, you are in Kuroo’s arms, his embrace gave warmth on that day he first saw you cry.
Fourth photo, the ninth month, in an expensive dinner date where you laughed with him because of his clip-on tie. Kuroo was too nervous that he felt his necktie choking him, and changed it minutes before you go out. That clip-on tie had pink paw prints design.
You hold the polaroid. In that photo, you both have wine glasses on your hand with him kissing your cheek. And you remember how he casually thinks of compliments that would make you blush, your hair, your clothes, and even noticing the new lip gloss you tried.
It was love, as you believed. This feeling. Because what else could it be? It was a conclusion you made up without prior knowledge to what love actually is.
You trusted the love Kuroo gave, never asked anything more than it, never questioned it.
Even if everything started to feel like it was not really romantic love. That it was just a thoughtful smile, a concerned hug, his natural way of words, and the love that was from just a friend who happened to like you a lot.
Yes, he was friendly, caring, charming, and thoughtful. You have no right to list a job description for a boyfriend, shouldn't you?
And they say great couples are simply best friends in love.
Looking back at most memories, it felt like you were really just a best friend, who happened to have the privilege of kissing him.
Someone he likes to be with, not someone he falls in love with.
It never was supposed to be a big deal. But people would often mistake you as ‘just another friend’. He was the same with everyone and you don’t want to dictate him to change.
But if he treats everyone the same, then it means what he does for you was not actually that special. It's just his natural way of being towards everyone. You started to think, maybe you were not a priority, just another friend amongst many.
You stay awake past midnight, with your thoughts loud, when you sink into the realization that there might not be really anything special at all. Because everything he did for you, warm hugs, compliments, leaning on his shoulders, those were just the perks of being Kuroo’s friend.
So, who are you in his life?
You know you are more than his friend.
Until less people stopped believing you were lovers, and maybe you stopped believing as well.
“So you’re close with him?” someone asks even if it was obvious you are Kuroo’s special someone. Maybe it did not look like that. Kuroo simply agrees that you two are close. Same likes, agrees with almost anything, vibes a lot. Typical best friend qualities. Of course you wanted to feel it was more than that.
“That’s Kuroo’s special friend” and that might be the worst introduction you have ever received. The word special, losing the meaning it once held.
At least you were someone to him, that still meant something right?
Sure, it was your own demons. How you started to feel like crouching when he stands beside you. His tall figure shining in daylight as you walk down the street during your dates, but as hours pass by and the sun changes position, you notice you have become just a shadow.
Worse, you started to feel like you were not enough when you're with him.
You appreciate who Kuroo is.
Dating him was a gamble against your own insecurities. You know what you were getting into, you know the hole you might fall into. But you haven't learned yet how to get up. As each monthsary gets celebrated, you were falling further and deeper into the abyss of your inferiority. And Kuroo did not even notice you were no longer beside him during parties, or at some special events. He forgot what ice cream flavor you like. He no longer corrects people mistaking you as just his friend.
On your first anniversary, the wine on your glass was gone a few minutes ago, you needed the courage.
Kuroo reaches out for your hand, you held it for a second, squeezing it slightly, and slowly letting it go. He clicks his tongue, noticing your avoidance for weeks. You used to hold hands everywhere you went, but now you avoid touching altogether.
“Can you at least look at me?” he asks.
You shift your gaze from his hands to his face.
"Why won't you look at me?" his voice was firm, almost disappointed.
"Because every time I do, I see what we've become."
It was his turn to look away.
"Do you remember when we first met?" you ask.
"I try not to."
You don’t know what he meant by that.
The silence between you grows louder with each passing day, until it's suffocating. Kuroo is not wearing a clip-on tie, you noticed. He tugs his necktie, adjusting it every now and then.
You try to salvage what's left of your relationship, maybe this anniversary date should do it. But it's like trying to hold onto sand slipping through your fingers.
You pour another batch of wine on your glass before speaking, "You know how you always used to say, 'The grass is greener where you water.' Remember?"
"Yeah, I still stand by that. It's about perspective."
"Perspective? How about the perspective of feeling invisible in a relationship?” Kuroo does not like where you’re going, where this is going. “Do you—do you even still see me?"
"Of course not” He tries to hold your hand again and you hold onto him. “of course I see you.”
Kuroo speaks again. “But sometimes, what you think doesn't really matter.”
You scoff.
“But those are my feelings” your voice is getting higher, you adjusted your seat, you feel like sinking in the chair. "So my feelings don't matter to you?"
"No, that's not what I meant.” he sighs before continuing, “I just think you're overthinking these things."
"Overthinking? Maybe I'm just realizing I deserve better. Maybe, just maybe, I deserve to be seen and valued." you try to catch your breath. It sounded almost like a plea.
His lips stay pressed on a thin line. He was no longer holding your hand. You were looking at his direction. He is looking down, holding his fork, tapping his plate.
You know staying in this relationship could mean getting invisible day by day. Not until he could no longer see you, worse, until you could no longer see yourself.
Sucks to end it that way, you could almost laugh bitterly at this situation, cliche even.
He looks at you, for the last time that he could, then mumbles. "I never wanted it to come to this."
You slowly look away, your eyes betraying a mixture of hurt and determination. "Let’s just leave this memory as a good one” you hold his hand, for the last time that you could, “I don’t want to end things ugly and start hating you.”
Because you know you never could. You wanted things to end while he was still someone you love.
Kuroo was not looking at you anymore. He felt a shiver, realizing the absence of warmth from your hand.
“Isn’t it enough that I see and value you?”
“Do you really see me? Or am I just another name on your close friends list?”
He sighs again, longer than the previous, as if he was afraid of speaking more, "Well, if that's how you feel, I’m sorry"
"Is that all you have to say?"
“You know, I—” Kuroo can’t understand why he can’t say those words. It takes three words for him to fix this. He stayed silent. And it took just a fraction of his silence for you to realize there was no use to trying to fix this.
Kuroo Tetsurou x gn reader | six-part mini series | (TAGLIST OPEN)
⎯ exes to enemies to lovers? | fluff, angst
⎯ no major warnings, just parenting stuff but it's not your baby, side character death, minimal miscommunication but not too much, because I also get frustrated with that
𓆩♡𓆪 synopsis┆When a mutual friend tragically dies in an accident. You and Kuroo Tetsurou were forced back into each other's lives, to take care of the baby your friend has left. Unaware that you broke up months ago, you're both faced with the challenge of becoming foster parents as ex-lovers.
MAIN MASTERLIST
[first], you think the worst is a broken heart
what's gonna kill you is the [second] part
[third], is when your world splits down the middle
[fourth], you're gonna think that you fixed yourself
[fifth], you see them out with someone else
[sixth], is when you admit that you may have fucked up a little
⟿ Zhongli x gn reader ; fluff, who doesn’t sleep in history class? send advice asap. tysm for reading !!
“I can’t understand anything”
You sigh and another immediately follows from the person beside you. Definitely a sigh more disappointed than yours. And your supposed attention for the professor shifted to your seatmate.
“If you listen maybe you would” Zhongli mumbled, a matter of fact without putting his book down. You open your mouth to protest but end up grumbling ‘cause he’s right, always. It’s hard to disagree and even harder to blame that his new eyeglasses look more interesting than today’s lecture. He never mentioned his eyesight was deteriorating.
Still you insist, “I definitely am”.
And Zhongli raises an eyebrow.
“I was?” , he’s not buying it.
“It’s better you start paying attention, finals are coming” he tries to fix his glasses, a little loose on his nose.
You help him adjust his glasses, “yeah and being a little less perfect won’t hurt.”
⟿ fluff, Diluc x gn reader, just Diluc missing you
It’s unusual.
11:30 pm and even the fireflies are bothered. Diluc paces back and forth, no path in his mind. Blending in the dark, he stands and waits. Luckily, no one passes by or he’d be reported to the authorities by now.
Well, your house is in front of him and yet his courage to knock left his knuckles. He should have called you by now if not of his worry settling uncomfortably in his mind. Diluc, as much of an individualist he is, cannot ignore he will be sleeping alone.
He used to drift in solitude but is frustratingly bothered occupying the bed by himself tonight.
So he takes his phone out, your number flashes at the top, marked as the most important contact. And he sighs for a moment then dials. Diluc heard the ringing for a few more seconds and was tempted to end the call.
“Diluc?” great, Diluc thinks, which good boyfriend would wake their partner in the middle of the night? But this is a matter of him receiving either nightmares or waking up with you in his arms, so he takes the chances.
There’s silence for a while so you speak again, “something matters?”
Diluc places his other hand inside his pocket, “I...” he pauses, “can we talk?”
“We’re already talking”
Your eyebrow is raised by now, though he can’t see, he knows. And Diluc thinks you’re still mad, so he says in a soft tone, testing the waters..
“Love..”
And you were quick to cut him off, “not falling for that”
Diluc bites his lips, well at least he tried.
You get up, turn on the lamp and Diluc has taken notice of your silhouette painted on the windows. He lifts his finger, tracing them unconsciously, as if wanting to hold you.
Your boyfriend has gone silent for a long while, “Diluc? Did you just hung up?” you ask.
“What? me?” he clears his throat and in full defense he declares, “I would never.”
“So..”
“So..” Diluc mimics, unsure of the next words.
“What’s with the late night call?” you ask.
“Missing you already”
Good thing Diluc can’t see your flustered state right now or else he’d make sure to use more of his charm, you composed yourself, “good for you”.
And he wonders if you miss him too.
“I was wondering if we can talk here?” he finally asks.
“Here? there?” you shake your head though he can’t see, “I can’t go to your place, it’s late,” you reply, glancing at the wall clock.
“Actually, I’m at your place”
You peek at your window and damn right there is your boyfriend who should have just knocked hours ago instead of letting himself shiver in cold.
He waves his hand a little upon seeing you. And he smiles, softly, pulling his hood down as he views you from a distance.
Shall darkness dare to cross his mind, it never will. For that right now, looking at you, he believes, stars could be on earth.
You wave back and are also quick to retrieve your hand. You weren’t on good terms with Diluc today and have no plan to give in swiftly. Why you’re back on your place instead of staying usually in his, Diluc has yet to explain.
Yet, betraying your own mind, you still went down. Turning the door open, you faced your boyfriend, hands in his pockets and already leaning by the doorway.
“You asked me to leave you alone” you cross your arms, Diluc feels the night has gone colder, “so I did.”
“Sorry” he mumbles, he sucks at apologizing, he knows, “it’s my fault, I’m really sorry.”
But he repeats the words, taking away his pride, “I’m really sorry,” he utters and the words peel all that masks his vulnerabilities.
“I have forgiven you hours ago,” you admit. Diluc takes a step closer, still cautious.
And he takes your hand, caressing your knuckles, “come home” he mumbles, a tad bit shy.
He looks down at the floor, staring at his shoes then your feet. It’s bare and Diluc likes to put on matching socks with you before sleeping.
Usually, he tucks you in the comfiest blanket keeping his body close to yours as he leaves the rest of his feet uncovered by the blanket. He feels comfier that way, he says.
“I would but I hope you do realize your problems are not yours alone,” you remind him. Diluc nodded and finally turned his gaze to you apologetically.
There are times Diluc shuts others out, believing he could work out his problems just fine. ‘Cause when other people try to help, it’s either he doesn’t like the resolution or he ends up with more problems. In hours of stress, he tends to be focused on addressing the issues and neglect anything illogical or nonsense, at least to him.
And earlier, he was certain he did snap and lock himself inside the room, staying for a damn long time ‘till he solves his troubles. You simply wanted to offer assistance to him which was unfortunately neglected, even hearing him asking you to stay out.
But you do understand, it’s Diluc and sometimes he prefers time of his own. Diluc is surely grateful for that but doesn’t want to let you feel you’re not needed.
Though he seems fine alone, his day doesn’t get better without you casually sitting beside him as he gets his work done. Those days you make him his favorite grape juice accompanied with sweets and the little notes that come along. Or those long hours of you and him talking about anything, how fine is the weather, what could be for dinner or why is the brain a complex organ.
Things surely are better when you’re there and worse when you’re not.
“I’m here okay?” You assure. And when you take his hands, he feels warmer, “you have me, remember?”
Diluc smiles, leans and presses a kiss on your lips.
Still smiling, he asks, “it’s late, can I sleep in your place tonight?”
Whether he has you or you have him, it’s always a loop. But he knows, all that for sure, he’s not alone and he’ll give extra cuddles tonight.
tysm for reading! hope you have enough sleep lovely human, and reblogs are always appreciated<3
