#kuroo headcanons

[taintedtort]

" LETS GET DIRTY! "

summary. things you do that turn them on pt1

characters. hinata, kenma, kyotani, kuroo, nishinoya

warnings. afab!reader i think, post!timeskip, NSFW!!

a/n. this is a reupload bc the original post was flagged and removed :( i also changed the banner cus that might’ve been part of the issue

links to pt2, pt3, pt4, and pt5

☆ — HINATA

☆ he goes nuts when you wear anything that exposes your thighs. not really sure why, but he just loves them, especially if they're on the bigger side. if you're sitting next to him, he's got his hand on your thigh, subtly squeezing it every now and then. easiest way to get him riled up is to wear some shorts that cling to you in all the right places. he's got his face between them in seconds, begging you to suffocate him.

"cmon... squeeze harder, baby."

☆ — KENMA

☆ it gets him really worked up whenever you kiss his neck, especially the back. it sends prickles over his skin every time. it's such a casual thing, and he's honestly embarrassed over the effect it has on him.

☆ he also loves when you spend his money on something nice for yourself (lingerie). it makes him feel nice, especially if you model for him. and of course he has to show his appreciation by dicking you down and ripping up said lingerie, spewing promises of buying you some new sets.

"mmh- shush, i'll get you a new one."

☆ — KYOTANI

☆ loves biting. it started when you had playfully nipped at his bicep, all innocent and cute. after that, he couldn't get enough. he'd never outright admit that to you though, so he always tries to fuck you so hard that you have to bite into his shoulder to muffle your loud noises. you're met with a delighted groan from him each time you do it, and it doesn't take you long to catch on. you don't tease him about it, of course, but you do make an effort to bite him more during sex... and sometimes outside of it too ;)

"Fuck! jus' like that..."

☆ ー KUROO

☆ absolutely adores the noises you make. he especially enjoys the little whimpers you let out when you're riding him, trying your hardest to keep a good pace as your thighs get more and more tired. you beg and plead for him to just flip you over, but he likes watching you get all whiny. but don't worry, he'll eventually give in when your slow pace starts to drive him crazy.

"giving up already? cmon, you can keep going."

☆ ー NISHINOYA

☆ he likes when you initiate. it's usually him that comes to you, but sometimes you surprise him by getting all needy, and it's the biggest turn on in the world for him. sex like that is always quick and rough, both of you coated in sweat and panting by the end of it. he just can't help it, though! he'd be a bad boyfriend if he didn't immediately pounce on you and give you what you so desperately need.

"you're so naughty, babe..."

hi! thanks for reading :)

rules+masterlist

[kurooangel]

kinktober 28: car sex. ft kuroo tetsuro

after a long day at the beach, you and your boyfriend get into his car. tan skin, rosy cheeks — slightly burnt — and a lovestruck expression in both of your faces.

at first is just a few kisses, each one on its own seat, but then you straddle his lap.

your bikini bottom’s knots on each side of your hips come loose.

you rest your back on the steering wheel after he takes off your shirt, staring at your chest in your bikini.

it was a matter of time that his fingers sneak into your folds. you moan and your nails dig into his tanned biceps. “shit, tetsu—“

“shh, i know. be a good girl, you can take them” he whispers against your tits, kissing them softly, with surprising gentleness. his fingers run over your folds, teasing your clit every now and then. your thighs tighten around him, your hands find his hair and tug at it.

when kuroo slides two of his thick fingers inside you, you see the stars. the friction just perfect, how his pads grind against your g spot deliciously. the delicate way he curls them and pulls them out before rubbing them back in. your walls hug him tightly, never wanting to let him go. needing all of him.

your moans blend with the sound of the waves, the moon reflecting on the sea as you reflect on your boyfriend’s eyes. you help him tucking his swim trunks down, freeing his aching cock. is as hard as a rock, throbbing for you and sensitive as hell. you can see pre leaking out of his slit, so your self control goes out of the window before you run your thumb over the tip. he moans and pinches your clit slightly — not enough to hurt you but more than enough for making you shiver in pleasure.

“don’t tease” he grumbles against your temple, then kisses it. “don’t finish yet, wait a bit, okay? can you do that for me, babe?” you nod eagerly while he aligns himself with your entrance, smearing his juices over your folds.

“tetsu, please” you whine, already pushing yourself down on him. his big hand caresses your skin, allowing you to sink on his fat cock. you moan, the stretch delicious despite the slight burn of your cunt welcoming him. his other hand remains on your hips, tracing your skin softly and smearing some of your own juices on it — as if marking you.

“good girl. you’re so perfect” kuroo tilts his head back as you ride him, imitating the ocean out of the car. you feel the heat of his skin against your own, his heavy breath against your cheek. you bury your face on his strong neck, still grinding against him.

your lips land on his skin and you start kissing his neck slowly, feeling how his adam’s apple bobbles. you run your tongue over his salty skin, suck on it, nibble it teasingly. his hips thrusts into you, making your walls clench. a deep, guttural growl is your advice before he finishes inside you, stuffing you full of his load. after a few more, you become undone under his touch, your body melting under his spell.

both breathing heavy, looking at each other’s eyes and smiling satisfied — even though his smirk hides a little bit of teasing. “so maybe we should head back home”

“still hungry? didn’t know my girl is that greedy”

oh, and he is right, ‘cause it’s all it takes you to clench around him. good luck, he took it as a challenge.

[seumyo]

HAIKYUU BOYS ✰ HOW THEY WOULD BE IF THEY HAD A CRUSH ON SOMEONE

FEATURING. Kageyama T., Kuroo T., and Akaashi K.

NOTE. i’m giggling at these ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ ) + starting to lean into more headcanon posts because it’s so fun!

KAGEYAMA TOBIO — SUDDENLY FULL OF QUESTIONS

When Kageyama Tobio has a crush, he’s suddenly full of questions.

He doesn’t realize when it starts, only that something feels different, like a switch flipped quietly in his brain without his knowledge. One day he’s focused on his volleyball, on keeping his head in the game, and the next he’s glancing sideways at you without meaning to, his thoughts drifting away from volleyball formations and subjects that he badly needed to pass to play volleyball. The questions come before he can stop them, slipping out of his mouth as if they’ve always been there, waiting.

“Hey,” he says from his seat, eyes still glued to his notebook like that might hide the heat creeping up his neck. It doesn’t help that his notebook’s blank.  “What’s your favorite food?”

He sees you look surprised, eyebrows raising before you smile at him. “Huh? Curry, I guess.”

He nods slowly, committing the information to memory even though he has no idea why it matters so much. His pencil scratches against the page, writing nothing important. “Spicy or not spicy?”

You tilt your head. “Medium.”

“…Okay.” The word comes out firm, decisive, as if he’s just confirmed something important. He forces himself to look back down at his notes, shoulders stiff, ears burning red.

A few minutes pass. He manages to last exactly two minutes before the need to ask another question becomes unbearable.

“Do you like cats or dogs?”

Your shoulders shake as you try not to laugh, turning in your seat to face him properly. “Cats.”

“Why?”

“They’re quiet,” you answered after a second. “And cuter, personally.”

He hums under his breath, satisfied. That makes sense. He likes that answer more than he probably should.

After practice, you walk home together, the air cool and the sky painted in warm shades of orange and pink. Kageyama doesn’t think about it when he slows his pace to match yours; he just does. His bag hangs heavy from one shoulder, the sound of your footsteps falling into an effortless rhythm.

“Do you get cold easily?” he asks suddenly, staring straight ahead.

You laugh at him again, light and surprised. “That’s kind of random.”

“I’m just asking.” His tone is defensive, even though there’s no real reason to be.

“Yes,” you answered, still smiling. “Why?”

“…Nothing.” He shakes his head once. “Just—good to know.”

You wrap your scarf tighter around your neck, glancing at him from the corner of your eye, clearly amused. Kageyama doesn’t say anything after that, because he could barely look at you—too focused on the thoughts that are running in his head.

The next day at lunch, he notices it without meaning to. The empty space on your table. The way you pause, looking around like you’ve forgotten something. Without thinking, he slides his unopened milk carton toward you.

“You didn’t bring a drink.”

You blinked at the carton, then looked at him, your expression soft albeit surprised. “Oh. Thanks.” You nodded. “You noticed.”

“…Yeah.” He looks away quickly, pretending to adjust his bangs, his heart thudding too loud in his ears.

You eat in comfortable silence for a while. Ten seconds pass. Fifteen. It becomes unbearable.

“What music do you listen to?” he asks.

“Soft stuff. Acoustic. You?”

“None.”

You snorted. That figures.”

He frowns, genuinely confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re cute,” you reply easily, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Kageyama immediately chokes on his rice, coughing as his face turns red. You pat his back between laughs, apologizing even though you’re clearly enjoying this. All Kageyama could think about was the pressure of your hand on his back as he almost had a near-death experience. Your hand was very light and gentle.

Later, when you’re assigned to clean the classroom together, the room feels quieter than usual. Sunlight spills through the windows, dust floating lazily in the air. Kageyama works quietly, but his attention keeps drifting to you as you wipe down the windows, humming softly under your breath. The sound sticks with him, like a lullaby.

“Do you hum when you’re happy?” he asks before he can stop himself.

You paused, turning to look at him. Your pout is thoughtful but fond. “Yeah. Do you ask questions when you’re nervous?”

“I’m not nervous,” he says instantly, too fast.

You shrug your shoulders, clearly unconvinced. “Uh-huh.”

He doesn’t understand it. He just knows he wants to know everything—what makes you laugh, what you eat when you’re tired, whether you prefer sunsets or sunrises. The questions feel endless, and none of them feel unimportant.

You step a little closer to him when you finish. “You know, you can just say you want to spend time with me.”

Kageyama freezes, every muscle locking up as his face burns hotter than it ever has. He stares at the floor, fists clenched at his sides.

“…Is that ok?” he asks quietly, completely serious.

Your laughter is music to his hears—what is wrong with him? “Yeah, Tobio. It is.”

He nods once, like he’s made a decision in a match. “Okay.” He swallows. “Then—can we walk home together again tomorrow?” Tomorrow because he knows that volleyball practice today will end late, and he doesn’t want you waiting for him so late.

Your answer comes without hesitation. “Of course.”

KUROO TETSUROU — STUDIES IN ADVANCE TO IMPRESS YOU

When Kuroo Tetsurou has a crush, he becomes unbearable in the most subtle way possible.

He doesn’t brag outright—he’s not that obvious. Instead, he prepares. Thoroughly. With intent.

The night before chemistry class, he’s sprawled across his bed, textbook open, phone discarded somewhere near his pillow. He’s already finished tomorrow’s homework, but that isn’t enough. He rereads the chapter anyway, flipping pages with practiced ease, making mental notes of things that might come up. Not because he’s worried about the test. Because you sat one row ahead of him, and sometimes—sometimes—you turn around and ask questions.

He wants to be ready.

The next day, Kuroo leans back in his chair as the teacher drones on, eyes half-lidded, posture relaxed. To anyone else, he looks bored. Lazy, even. But he’s listening, catching every word, every concept he already knows by heart. Also because he’s studious like that.

Sure enough, you turn around, pen tapping lightly against your notebook. “Hey, Kuroo.”

He perks up instantly. “Yeah?”

“You get this part?” You point at an equation. “The coefficient change.”

“Oh,” he says casually, like he hasn’t memorized the entire section. “Yeah. It’s just adjusting for the reaction rate.”

You squint. “Just?”

He grins. “You’re overthinking it.”

You scoff. “I am not.”

“You totally are,” he says, leaning forward. “If you isolate the variable first, it’s way easier.”

You study the equation again, and then he sees your lips curl into a small, smug smile. Oh no. “That only works if you assume ideal conditions.”

Kuroo pauses.

“…Okay, yeah,” he admits, impressed despite himself. “But that’s what the teacher’s going for.”

“Still,” you say, chin lifting slightly, “it’s not wrong to consider alternatives.”

He laughs quietly. “Did you study ahead again?”

“Maybe,” you replied innocently, even batting your eyelashes at him. “Did you?”

He shrugs. “Maybe.”

If “maybe” was 96 hours of him studying non-stop and juggling that alongside volleyball, then yes, maybe he did study.

You hold eye contact for a second too long, and Kuroo suddenly feels the urge to blink because he thinks his face is growing hot. He feels something in his chest—that spark he always feels with you, the way conversations with you never feel dull or one-sided. You don't just listen. You push back, whatever that means.

After class, he falls into step beside you in the hallway, hands tucked into his pockets.

“You’re annoying,” you mused lightheartedly.

“Because I’m right?”

“Because you enjoy being right.”

He smirks. “I do. Sue me.”

You bump his shoulder with yours. “Don’t let your head get too big.”

You stop by the lockers, and Kuroo leans against the metal casually, watching as you fumble with your lock. “So,” he says, tone intentionally offhand, “you like physics or chemistry more?”

“Physics,” you answered without hesitation. “It makes more sense.”

“Oof. Bold take.”

“You disagree?”

“Chemistry’s more fun,” he says. “More variables. More chaos. Plus, Lab’s fun when we get to do actual experiments.”

You laughed, nodding your head. “That tracks.”

He watches your expression, the way your eyes light up when you talk about school, about learning. He likes this side of you. Likes that you don’t dumb yourself down. Likes that you challenge him.

But he wants more.

The walk toward the school gates together was as mundane as can be, afternoon sun filtering through the trees.

“You always ask me about school stuff,” you pointed out suddenly, glancing at him. “Is that, like, your thing?”

Kuroo blinks. “What, being smart?”

“No,” you reply, amused. “Being… this.”

“This?” He gestures between you.

You shrug. “Debating. Studying ahead. Competing.”

He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess so.”

There’s a beat of silence before he adds, “I can ask about other stuff too, you know.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Like what?”

Like what music you like. What makes you laugh. What you do when you’re not being ridiculously smart.

A million topics just went through his head.

Instead, Kuroo says, “Like… what you do after school.”

You nodded your head slowly. “I tutor my cousin. You?”

“Volleyball,” he replies easily. “Captain duties. Being awesome.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Naturally.”

He grins, emboldened. “You ever come watch?”

“…Maybe,” 

…

“If you promise not to show off.”

“No promises.”

You laugh and shake your head and start walking again. He follows, heart a little lighter.

“Hey, [Last Name]?”

“Yeah?”

He hesitates, then asks, “What do you do for fun? Like—not academic fun.”

You think for a moment. “I like reading. Baking. Long walks.”

“Baking, huh?” He perks up. “What kind?”

“Cookies. Mostly.”

He nods seriously. “Important information.”

“Why is that important?”

He shrugs. “Just… wanna know more about you.”

Your steps slow. Just a little.

“Oh.”

You reach the corner where your paths split, and for a moment neither of you moves.

“Well,” you started, tucking your bag higher on your shoulder, “see you tomorrow, know-it-all.”

“Later, genius,” he replies.

As you walk away, Kuroo watches you go, smiling to himself. He still wants to impress you—always will—but maybe it doesn’t have to be just about textbooks and equations.

Maybe it can be about cookies. 

Oh, man. He was going to learn how to make the world’s best cookies.

AKAASHI KEIJI — THE CHALANCE IN NONCHALANCE

Akaashi Keiji is painfully aware of how conscious his breathing is.

In, out. Counted. The same way it always is—except today, it feels louder, like his body is betraying him with how aware it is of you. You sat one row ahead by the window, sunlight catching in your hair as you absentmindedly twirled your pen between your fingers. You aren’t paying attention to the lecture at all. Akaashi notices because he always notices things like that.

Patterns. Habits. 

The way people drift when their minds are elsewhere.

You look peaceful. Unbothered. And for some reason, that makes him want to disrupt it—just a little.

When the teacher pauses to write something on the board, Akaashi leans forward, voice low and careful, like he’s approaching a wild animal he doesn’t want to scare away.

“You’re going to miss the notes,” he says.

You flinch slightly, blinking as if you’ve been pulled out of a dream. You turn to him, eyes widening for half a second before softening. “Oh—sorry. What?”

“The last problem,” he explains, gesturing vaguely to the board. “It’s… important. Probably.”

You look back up front, then sigh. “I always zone out during explanations.”

“I wrote everything down,” he adds quickly, then hesitates, realizing how eager he sounds. He clears his throat. “You can copy mine later. If you want.”

Your lips curve into a polite smile, familiar and practiced. “Thanks, Akaashi. You’re always so calm and prepared.”

Always. That word lands heavier than it should.

He shifts in his seat. “I’m not,” he says before he can stop himself.

You blinked again, clearly confused. “Not… prepared?”

“Not always,” he clarifies, then feels compelled—why does he feel compelled?—to keep going. “I forget things. Often. Yesterday I left my uniform at home. And last week I forgot my lunch.”

You stare at him for a moment, then let out a small laugh. “That’s it? That’s your big secret?”

He nods solemnly. “Yes.”

“That’s very normal,” you say, amused.

“I am,” he agrees. “Normal.”

“You don’t have to convince me.”

Akaashi leans back, heart thudding a bit harder than usual. That didn’t go the way he planned—but you laughed. That counts for something.

When class finally ends, the room fills with noise—chairs scraping, voices overlapping, the familiar chaos that Akaashi usually slips away from unnoticed. Today, though, he times his movements carefully. When you stood up, he stood too, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“Are you heading to the library?” he asks, keeping his tone neutral even as his pulse spikes.

You look genuinely surprised, eyes flicking to him as if you hadn’t expected him to speak again. “Yeah. I have to finish my literature report.”

“I have a case study,” he says, then adds, “I could also… be there.”

There’s a brief pause, just long enough for him to wonder if he sounded weird and if this is the part where you tell him off. Then you smile. “Let’s get going, then.”

You walk side by side down the hallway, not quite close enough for your arms to brush, but close enough that Akaashi is keenly aware of your presence. He feels strangely stiff, unsure what to do with his hands, so he just clasps them on his front like he normally would.

“What’s your report about?” he asks, partly to fill the silence, partly because he genuinely wants to know.

“Romantic poetry,” you replied with a grimace. “Which is ironic, because I don’t really get romance.”

He glances at you. “You don’t?”

“It feels exaggerated. Like people overthink every little thing.”

He almost smiles. Almost. “Sometimes,” he says slowly, choosing his words with care, “people don’t know how to express themselves properly. So it comes out… awkward. Or intense.”

You hum thoughtfully. “Is that your personal opinion, or are you analyzing human behavior again?”

“…Both,” he admits.

You laughed, this time louder and unguarded. The sound hits him square in the chest, warm and dizzying. Akaashi feels something loosen inside him. He did that. He made that happen.

In the library, the air is quieter, softer. They sit across from each other at a long table, sunlight filtering in through tall windows. You spread your notes out, chewing on the end of your pen, brows furrowed in concentration. Akaashi opens his notebook too—but instead of studying, he finds himself watching the way you scrunch your nose when you’re thinking.

“You’re not studying,” you pointed out without looking up.

“I am,” he replies automatically.

“You haven’t turned a page.”

“…I was thinking,” he admitted.

“About volleyball?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

The question hangs between you. His chest tightens, nerves buzzing under his skin. He could deflect. He usually does. But today, he doesn’t want to.

“…How to make you laugh again,” he says quietly.

Your pen stills. You look at him, really look at him, eyes wide and searching.

“That’s…” you paused. “That’s actually really cute.”

Heat rushes to his ears. “I’m not very good at it,” he admits. “I think I made it weird for the both of us.”

“I think you’re doing fine,” you tell him. “You’re just not what I expected.”

He meets your gaze. “Is that bad?”

You shook your head immediately. “No. I like it. You’re not just the calm, intimidating setter everyone talks about.”

“Intimidating?” he echoes faintly.

“A little,” you shrugged. “But now you’re just… Akaashi.”

The way you say his name—casual, familiar—makes his chest feel strangely full.

He reaches into his bag and pulls out a small juice box, setting it on the table like an offering. “I forgot my lunch,” he says flatly. “But I remembered this.”

You stare at it, then burst into laughter, covering your mouth. “Is that your proof of being normal?”

“Yes,” he says, utterly serious.

Your laughter fills the quiet space between the shelves, bright and genuine, and Akaashi watches you with something soft and steady in his chest. He thinks—this is enough. For now.

Being a little weird doesn’t feel so bad if it makes you smile like that, especially when he's being true to himself.

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[mysterystarz]

timeskip!bestfriend!kuroo decides to steal a lazy morning with you to tell you how he feels instead of using his words like a normal person. death to the situationship! cw: some dumb chem/space references, HELLA FLUFFY <3 + HAPPY ENDING

kuroo tetsuro memorized what neutrinos were because of the way the sun touched your skin. trillions of them passed through you every moment, and with the sheer curtains open on this particular morning, he wished he was one of them. kuroo liked to consider himself a man of logic; after all, he used the same approach for volleyball as he did when dealing with the japan volleyball association. he (whether subconsciously or not) analyzed what existed and made decisions that worked. that's why he was captain. that's why he'd been scheduled for a promotion (though he'd been sworn to secrecy — he wasn't supposed to know that). it was also why he couldn't, for the life of him, figure out what to do about you.

for the longest time, nothing about you fit his internal model. he could flirt, and you flirt back. he could feel like he was drowning and you'd drag him back to dry land. he could smile and decide to spend all his time with you and lose sight of you for months, only to, like magic, fall into your orbit yet again. if all humans were carbon-based lifeforms, he reckoned the two of you came from the core of the same dying star. "tetsu," you murmured, a hand reaching out to touch his chest. your eyes fluttered open, welcoming in the son and presumably the sight of him with an atrocious bedhead and a face that looked like he was gone for you. he was. not that you'd noticed. "good morning," he smirked, doing everything to ignore the feeling of you so close. this was always the issue. you'd come over. stay the night. talk about everything and anything til sunrise, only to fall asleep in his sheets. then you'd wake like an angel, and he'd be left to deal with the damage. how much more of this could he take? "you're thinking," you frowned, pushing a finger of yours between his eyebrows. "you get a little crease right there. what's wrong?" he paused for a moment, the blood rushing hot in his veins. the sheets had slipped ever so slightly, exposing the bare skin of your shoulders. he wondered, if just for a moment, what it might feel like to trace that with his lips. "you trust me," he said, almost against his will, hands reaching to tug you in by your waist. you were made for him, or at least, that's what it felt like. your limbs melted into his like butter, his perfect puzzle piece. "right?" his lips traced the shell of your ear, the gentle plush of them sending a shiver down your spine. you involuntarily clutched his shirt, feeling the flush on your face. "tetsu...what are you doing?" "just answer the question," he said, hand sliding up the curve of your waist. he placed another chaste kiss to the shell over your ear before sliding his hand down to your thighs. "where is this coming from?" you asked almost breathlessly, doing nothing to stop him. his hand, warm and calloused from years of sports, traced the plush of your thighs like it was something precious. kuroo paused, his eyes boring into your own. he drew a dumb smiley face on your thigh before moving to rest his head on top of yours. the warmth of his body flooded through you instantly, and you gravitated towards him like a cat who’d found its favorite patch of sun.

“this is what i want,” he said simply, his free hand coming to cup your head against his chest. “this is exactly what i’d like to be doing.

“we’re doing the thing,” you giggled. “you’re speaking nonsense.”

“do you intentionally make my life hard?” he mumbled into your head, placing what you think is a chaste kiss on top of it. you felt precious. loved. warm and fuzzy in a way you had no business being.

you’d wanted him for months now…maybe even years. if there was even the possibility he felt the same….

“i want these mornings with you all the time,” he sighed. “i want to wake you and be yours.”

your heart skipped a beat.

“so we can go out to dinner once i get my promotion….a date. a real date. in the romantic way.”

you smiled into his chest, looking up to see his flushed cheeks. “you mean that?”

he nodded, tracing a big fat heart into the sensitive skin of your thigh.

you shivered, fully prepared to kiss him before you began to giggle.

“what’s funny?” he huffed. “that was so romantic!”

“you’re getting a promotion? i thought if you knew about that, you weren’t supposed to say anything.”

“right. fuck.”

© all content belongs to mysterystarz 2026. please do not copy my works onto any other website/platform (including but not limited to tiktok, instagram, wattpad, ao3, or any AI chatbot)

pspsps @brooksviolin @karnevil @cowboylo (i saw you were writing kuroo so i thought why not) @lovedlorned (kuroo’s canon wifey)

hehehe i hope u guys like

[thicchaikyuuboys]

THEY ASK YOU TO SLEEP OVER | pt. 1

THEY ASK YOU TO SLEEP OVER | Pt. 2

Including: Miya Atsumu, Osamu Miya, Sakusa Kiyoomi, Kuroo Tetsuro

Could’ve been smut—but fluff it is

★ Atsumu Miya — “C’mon, ya know you sleep better next to me.”

It started with a dumb meme.

1:04 AM.

Atsumu’s name lighting up your phone, sending you a picture of a cat face-planted into a pillow with the caption “Me thinkin’ about you rn.”

You sent back an eye-roll emoji.

Typical Tsumu.

But then—

Tsumu [1:06 AM]: “C’mon, ya know you sleep better next to me.”

You: “That’s a very bold assumption.”

Tsumu [1:07 AM]: “Nah, that’s facts, pretty thing. Don’t make me come get ya.”

You should’ve told him no.

But you were already slipping on a hoodie and heading out the door.

When you got to his place, he was leaning against the doorframe, that devilish grin spreading across his face as if he’d known you’d cave.

“Took ya long enough, angel,” he drawled, shirtless, in sweatpants that hung way too low on his hips.

“Bed’s been cold without ya.”

He wasn’t even subtle.

But the moment you brushed past him, the air shifted—

You could feel the electricity crackling in the silence between you.

His room was dimly lit, messy, but it felt… familiar.

Too familiar.

He watched you climb into his bed like it was the best show he’d ever seen.

“I ain’t gonna bite, y’know,” he teased, flopping down beside you, arm thrown behind his head. “Unless ya ask.”

You swatted his arm, rolling your eyes, but when you settled in, the tension simmered—

He stayed on his side… for five minutes.

Then his foot “accidentally” brushed against yours.

“Tch. Blanket thief,” he muttered, scooting closer, his breath warm against your neck.

And when you stilled, feeling his arm loop casually (but not really) around your waist, he mumbled—

“Yer dangerous, y’know that?”

You barely whispered back,

“So are you.”

He didn’t sleep for a long time after that.

But his grip on you never loosened.

⸻

★ Osamu Miya — “You’re not cooking tonight. Get over here.”

Osamu wasn’t one for back-and-forth games.

He saw your IG story of you making sad, soggy instant ramen and didn’t even hesitate.

Osamu [7:38 PM]: “You’re not cooking tonight. Get over here.”

You sent back a laughing emoji.

He didn’t reply.

Because twenty minutes later, you were at his door.

His place smelled like heaven.

The lights were low, the kitchen was warm, and there he was—plating up a meal like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“I’m serious,” he said as you walked in. “Yer not eating that trash when I’m around.”

He didn’t ask if you wanted to stay the night.

He didn’t have to.

Later, as you were washing up, you felt his presence behind you.

Close.

Too close.

“Stay over,” he said, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

“Don’t feel like letting you leave tonight.”

When you climbed into his bed, Osamu was already stretched out, arm propped behind his head, pretending like his heartbeat wasn’t betraying him.

You lay beside him, facing opposite directions, but your hands found each other beneath the covers.

His fingers intertwined with yours, slow, deliberate.

“You’re dangerous,” you murmured, teasing.

But his grip only tightened.

“If that’s true, yer worse,” he said, voice low, almost a growl.

“’Cause you make me want things I shouldn’t.”

You turned your head, eyes meeting his.

And for a second, the whole world stopped.

He didn’t kiss you. He didn’t need to.

But when you finally drifted off, his thumb was still tracing the back of your hand—slow, memorizing it like a man starved.

⸻

★ Sakusa Kiyoomi — “You’ll catch a cold. Stay over.”

It was pouring.

Not the soft kind of rain, but sheets of water hammering against windows like a warning.

You were walking home.

And Sakusa was pissed.

Sakusa [11:12 PM]: “You’ll catch a cold. Stay over.”

You could picture his frown through the screen.

You responded with a snarky, “Didn’t know you cared.”

But you were already turning back toward his apartment.

When you arrived, drenched and shivering, he didn’t even smirk.

He just stood there, towel in hand, that deep sigh of his echoing through the doorway.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, towel landing over your head.

But his hands lingered, fingers ghosting over your hairline a second longer than necessary.

He didn’t ask if you wanted to stay in his bed.

He just started changing the sheets, as if it was a foregone conclusion.

“You’re staying,” he said, quiet but firm, eyes flicking to yours before darting away again. “Don’t argue.”

Later, lying side by side, the air was suffocating.

He kept his distance—technically.

But his entire body was wired, coiled like a spring.

“Stop shivering,” he muttered, voice barely audible.

“I can’t help it,” you shot back.

He groaned, low and frustrated, before rolling onto his side, arm hesitating in the space between you.

Then—slowly, deliberately—he bridged the gap.

His hand rested against your hip, barely there.

“I don’t like people in my space,” he confessed, voice a rasp in the dark.

“But you’re different. You’re dangerous.”

You could feel his heartbeat against your back.

Pounding.

Out of rhythm.

“I’ll keep my germs to myself,” you teased, but your voice was softer now.

More vulnerable.

He didn’t laugh.

But his fingers curled into your side, anchoring himself to you like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

And that night, Sakusa Kiyoomi didn’t sleep.

⸻

★ Kuroo Tetsurou — “Wanna come over and help me procrastinate?”

You knew what Kuroo meant the second your phone buzzed.

Kuroo [9:43 PM]: “Wanna come over and help me procrastinate?”

You: “You mean distract you.”

Kuroo [9:44 PM]: “Same shit, different toilet. The bed’s big enough for two, by the way.”

By the time you got to his apartment, he was sprawled across the couch, textbooks ignored, that stupid cocky grin already in place.

“Took you long enough,” he teased, patting the space beside him.

“C’mere. Let’s pretend we’re being productive.”

You tried to focus.

You really did.

But every time you reached for your notes, his knee would nudge yours, his fingers would linger a second too long as he passed you a pen.

“You’re hopeless,” you groaned.

He smirked.

“You’re the one who came over, sweetheart.”

When it was finally time to crash, Kuroo stood in the doorway of his bedroom, arms crossed, silhouette lazy but his eyes sharp.

“You can sleep in my bed,” he said, like it was nothing.

“Wouldn’t mind sharing.”

He didn’t push.

But when you brushed past him, the grin he fought to suppress was impossible to miss.

In bed, you lay shoulder to shoulder, silence stretching until it wasn’t comfortable anymore.

“You’re trouble, you know that?” he muttered, rolling onto his side to face you.

“Takes one to know one,” you shot back.

He hummed, the sound vibrating in his chest.

His arm slid beneath your head, pulling you in just enough.

“I’m not making a move,” he said, voice low, breath warm against your temple.

“But I’m not a saint either.”

And that night, the line between friends and something more blurred.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Do we like? Do we like? Give me feedback in the comment and do we want a part two????

[wake-uptoreality]

It was not often when you two had arguments, but oh boy..when you did. You are angrily yelling at him. you didnt know what came over you...amd you just spit at him. He is shocked, amused even and can't belive what you did...but after all..he is sucker for unpredictable woman, since he is unpredictable man himself. He smirks as he grabs your chin while pinning you against the wall..he looks down at you and slips his thumb between your lips as he whispers huskily.

"Open your mouth, my turn"

-> SUNA, kageyama, TSUKISHIMA, OIKAWA, iwaizumi, kuroo, sugawara, ATSUMU.

[barelyalivesstuff]

Love-Sick Kuroo—⁠☆

Summary: Kuroo is disgustingly, painfully, stupidly, and disastrously in love with you.

Warnings: fluff, f!reader, Kuroo in love and lots of fluff.

Characters: Kuroo Tetsurō.

A/N: Thank you for the request love <33.

Kuroo Tetsurō is not subtle about being in love with you.

At all.

Never has been. Never will be.

It starts with the way his attention gravitates toward you like a magnet with zero self-control. You’ll be in a room full of people—loud, busy, chaotic—and somehow Kuroo’s eyes will always find you first. He doesn’t even try to play it cool. If you catch him staring, he doesn’t look away. He just smirks, lazy and pleased, like yeah, I was looking. What about it?

“God,” he mutters once, chin propped on his hand, eyes following you as you laugh at something Kenma said. “You see that?”

Kenma doesn’t even look up from his phone. “If you’re talking about her breathing, blinking, or existing—yes. You’re being weird again.”

Kuroo beams. “I know.”

He is down horrendous.

Everyone knows it. Nekoma knows it. Bokuto knows it (and announces it loudly). Even strangers know it, because Kuroo has the self-restraint of a man who has already decided you are it for him.

He leans in too close when he talks to you, fingers absentmindedly brushing your wrist like it’s second nature. When you sit beside him, his body automatically angles toward yours, knee fucking4 yours on purpose. If you yawn, he’s already offering his shoulder. If you shiver, his jacket is halfway off before you can protest.

“Baby,” he says easily, casually, like the word belongs there. Like it’s always belonged there.

Someone once asks him, half-joking, “You ever get tired of flirting?”

Kuroo blinks. “Flirting? Oh—no, that’s just me being in love.”

You nearly choke on your drink.

He’s disgusting.

Hopeless.

Perfect.

What really gets people is how soft he is about it. Kuroo Tetsurō—sarcastic, teasing, sharp-tongued—is suddenly all warm hands and quieter smiles when it comes to you. He listens to you like every word matters.

Remembers everything. The way you take your drink. The song you mentioned once, months ago. The offhand comment about liking cats more than dogs (he sends you cat videos at 2 a.m. with no shame).

When you’re tired, he notices before you say anything.

When you’re upset, he goes uncharacteristically still, focused, gentle.

And when you tease him about it—because of course you do—he doesn’t even deny it.

“You’re so whipped,” you laugh one evening, poking his cheek.

He catches your finger, presses a kiss to your knuckle, eyes fond and unguarded. “Yeah. Completely. Ruined for anyone else. Tragic, really.”

There is no embarrassment in him. None.

Just devotion.

The worst (best) part? He adores showing you off.

Not in a possessive way—never that—but in the way someone shows off their favorite thing in the world because how could they not?

“That’s her,” he says proudly to anyone who’ll listen. “Isn’t she incredible?”

You’ll try to shush him, cheeks warm, but he only laughs and pulls you closer, arm draped around your shoulders like it belongs there.

“You think I’m gonna shut up about you?” he murmurs into your hair. “Absolutely not.”

At night, when it’s just the two of you, the bravado softens even more. He traces slow patterns on your back, thumb warm and steady, like he’s grounding himself through you.

“You know I’m serious, right?” he says quietly once, voice lower, real. “About you. About us.”

You look at him, at the man who has never once pretended he didn’t care, whose love is loud and obvious and unwavering.

“I know,” you say.

He smiles—soft, crooked, entirely yours—and presses his forehead to yours.

“Good,” he whispers. “Because I’m not going anywhere. Ever.”

Kuroo Tetsurō is many things.

Clever. Annoying. Charismatic.

But above all?

He is so, so, devastatingly in love with you—and he wears it like a badge of honor.

Hope you liked it.LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

Don't steal,copy,edit or use my works in any form without my permission.

Barelyalive out!

[biconderoga]

Timeskip!Kuroo who discovers Streamer!Reader through Kenma

Kuroo who occasionally watches Kenma’s streams as he goes about his day. He likes some background noise as he meal preps or works on his computer. He’s catching up on emails one evening when he sees Kenma introduce Streamer!Reader.

Kuroo who ends up forgetting about his emails as he watches the stream. He doesn’t much care for the game you’re playing. He just can’t tear his eyes away from you. You’re charismatic and funny, not to mention beautiful. Kenma even cracks a few smiles at your jokes.

Kuroo who forms a somewhat parasocial relationship with you. He follows your socials and watches your streams.

Kuroo who confuses Kenma with his sudden knowledge on newer video games. The dots don’t connect for Kenma at first, but all the games he suddenly talks about are those you’ve streamed.

Kuroo who realizes he can stop being a creep and ask Kenma to introduce him to you. He tries to be slick with it. Kenma catches on immediately, but he’s not interested in playing matchmaker.

Kuroo who immediately jumps on Kenma’s offer a few days later. You had wanted to create a Minecraft world and encouraged Kenma to invite a couple of friends. So, he reluctantly invites Kuroo.

Kuroo who has never played Minecraft. He missed the initial hype because he lived and breathed volleyball at the time. He never really saw the appeal, but remembered Kenma being all over it.

Kuroo who joins the game on his work laptop. Not even ten minutes in the damn laptop sounds like it’s about to take off because it’s overheating.

Kuroo who goes into the game completely blind. Because how hard can a sandbox game be? He’s eats his words immediately.

Kuroo who watches your stream as he plays. He doesn’t know if he should be happy or embarrassed that you take pity on him and start to help him.

Kuroo who manages to get your number after your stream ends and you stay on the game. He joins a call with you and immediately tries to play the charmer, which is hard considering he dies every 5 seconds.