Roger

Confessing Through Kabedon But It's a Failure (HCs)

A/N: High school setting. This is all crack. I think I’m funny sometimes. Tagging @sempiternal-amour and @miki-snake, who helped me with this idea.

Miya Atsumu

Was too overexcited to kabedon you, he ran straight for you. In your fear of being barrelled over, you dodge and Atsumu ends up running straight into the wall. His face was red as fuck when he hit the wall with a loud “THWACK” and he falls on his back. Suna has it on video. Osamu looks satisfied. Omimi is dying from laughter. Kita is confused. You are also confused what the fuck just happened.

Miya Osamu

Slapped the wall so hard, the sound made everyone around you two look. You look up at him staring silently wondering what the fuck is going on; but then there’s a tinkling sound and Osamu’s off running after the ice cream truck. You just stood there going, “What the fuck?!” Suna and Akagi walks up to you with a muttered, “Condolences.” Atsumu felt so bad, he gave you his pudding. Aran is facepalming.

Kuroo Tetsurou

Kabedon-ed you but leaned in so closely that you had to crane your neck up to look at him. You got annoyed and tug on his tie to lower his face to your level. Which short-circuited his brain and now he forgot what he was going to say as he gapes at you like a fish. You thought he was messing with you so you just left. He stayed there staring at the wall, face red and brain still fried. Yaku saw and told the entire team.

Kenma Kozume

Did it because Kuroo pestered him enough about it. He sighed as he kabedon-ed you and he looked so done you thought he was leaning on the wall because he was about to faint. You didn’t listen to his claims of being fine so he ends up dragged to the clinic. Kuroo was passing by the clinic and you ran up to him telling him how Kenma is sick. When you left, Kuroo is cackling, unaware that he’s about to be murdered.

Hinata Shoyo

Too excited, jumped at you, ended up doing the two arms and two legs kabedon. He screamed in embarrassment. “GWAAHH!” You screamed in fear. “HWAAAAH?!” Tsukishima’s busy wheezing on the floor. Kageyama, supposedly to the rescue, run straight to you guys to pry Hinata off but only succeeded in scaring you even further. You bolted, now traumatized of the volleyball gym.

Kageyama Tobio

Unwisely followed his team’s advice so now he has you trapped against the wall as you wonder if this will be your last moments before you die in the hands of an intimidating, stuttering volleyball team player. Hinata tried to pull him out of it (seeing you’re also about to bail) by serving a ball to the back to his head. Kageyama bolts off after Hinata. You wonder what happened.

Nishinoya Yuu

Did it confidently, but was too awestruck by your face to speak. Realizes how close he is to your face…and your breasts. Definitely flicked his eyes down before staring determinedly in your eyes. His hand, sweaty from nerves, slips and he’s about to fall into the valley of your breast (his brain doing the slow motion, frame by frame) but your hand is quicker and you slap him. Wore the handprint on his face as a badge of honor.

Tsukishima Kei

Did it in his typical tsundere fashion (with a matching “Tch”) that it scared you. Before he can even speak, you were bowing apologetically offering his class notes back with a matching “I promise never to borrow your notes ever again.” Took the notebook to play it cool even if he was dying inside. Yamaguchi had to eat his fist to not laugh out loud. “Shut it, Yamaguchi!” “Sorry, Tsukki!”

Oikawa Tooru

Did it so suavely and smooth, you were actually impressed. Matched it by leaning on his elbow as he runs his fingers through his hair. Your eyes locked on the mosquito landing on his cheek. A loud slap. Cue Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, and Hanamaki’s laughter and wheezing heard from around the corner. You stand there frozen about to apologize. But the four just pats you on the back, “Great slap!” “Good one!” Oikawa whines.

Iwaizumu Hajime

Did it because…shoujo manga tropes work, right? (No, Hajime.) You stare at him, feeling slightly intimidated but you stand your ground. He stares back. …He didn’t think he’d make it this far, he didn’t actually think or rehearse what he wanted to say. After an awkward five full minutes of just staring at each other, he puts his arm down. You nod at each other and both walk away. Was there a bond formed? No one knows.

Kyoutani Kentarou

Did it for the same misguided reasons as Iwaizumi. He was definitely growling when he did it. You were super intimidated but kept a brave face on. Remembering his “Mad Dog” reputation, you shouted in alarm, “Heel!” It worked. Kyoutani immediately drops his arm and stopped growling. Oikawa’s now asking you for tips. Iwaizumi nods approvingly. Yahaba is amazed. Kyoutani facepalms when he remembers what happened.

Terushima Yuuji

So used to the art of kabedon, that he can do it effortlessly and smoothly. Unfortunately for him, you’re also used to his antics and playboy reputation. Before he can even lean in, your palm was already on its way to uppercut his face away from you. You walk away and he just sighs longingly, looking at your form. Damn, you look good when you walk away.

The Winner: Ushijima Wakatoshi

Huge, hulking man towering over you as he traps you against the wall. You stutter out asking what he wants. He replies, “I wanted to confess my interest in you and have been informed this is the proper way to do it. Would you like to go out with me?” Of course you say yes. Of course you should tell him that’s not the proper way to do it. Tendou is 2000 Yen richer after that day.

Bonus Winner: Kita Shinsuke

Asks you to meet him in an isolated location after school. Confesses to you like a proper guy, politely asking if you’d be interested in trying out dates with him. Of course you say yes. Of course you schedule your first date and he promised to walk you home that day. Aran, being the supportive wingman, was watching around the corner and told the twins afterwards. The two idiots went, “Ooooohhhh.”

Bonus Winner: Bokuto Koutarou

Forgot he was supposed to kabedon you. Came running at you in full speed, you fucking bolted off your seat in fear. Ended up in a chase around the school building, but you can’t match his stamina. When you stop and wheeze, he stopped right in front of you.“I LIKE YOU. PLEASE GO OUT WITH ME!” You stared at him for a full minute, you’re brain trying to process as you gasp for air. You say yes when your lungs agree with you again.

hi!! for the scenarios, kuroo+baby’s first word? <33

the second kuroo bursts into your bedroom with your one-year-old son in his arms, you know you've won.

"you cheated!" he accuses with a pointed finger.

you place the last of your laundry into your shared closet and close the door. picking up the empty basket, you give him a pointed look as you walk past him. "i don't know what you're talking about."

"cheater!" he cries, following you to the laundry area.

"still no clue," you say, setting down the basket and turning.

kuroo trails you all this while, all 189 cm irately bobbing around your house. "you taught him to say mama."

you try not to laugh, and attempt to school your expression as you sit down on your couch, looking up at him. "i did not."

tetsurō peers at your face with squinting eyes, and you can’t help the way the corner of your mouth twitches. he explodes. "you're smiling! i knew it!"

your son blinks, looking from his father to you, and he smiles. extending his arms, he reaches for you. "mama!"

"see?!" your husband wails, and you stand up briefly to take your son before sitting back down. "that's against the rules!"

"what rules?" you say with a roll of your eyes, unable to help your smile any longer, allowing your son to play with your hair. "english wasn't off the table when we had our bet about what word he'd say first."

"it was either okaa-san or otō-san and you know it!" kuroo snaps, cutely stomping to the armchair and sitting down, crossing his arms and pouting. 

you supress a laugh at his touchiness, but nudge your son. “baby, where’s papa?”

his eyes blink up at you, then he points at your husband. tetsurō kuroo glares at the chubby little hand of his traitorous son.

“go give papa a hug,” you say, setting him down. he takes wide steps before giving up and speed crawling to his father. 

despite kuroo’s pout, he bends over to pick up his son. 

“you can always try again with baby number two,” you remind him.

“yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, leaning back so your son can settle on his chest. “you’re lucky i love you."

you chuckle. “hey, baby,” you call to your son, and the boy looks back at you, his hands on the collar of your husband’s shirt. you see the affection that opens up on tetsurō’s face when he looks at his child, and it makes your heart twinge. “say papa.”

your son doesn’t falter, offering you a smile. “mama!”

i am once again asking how much money this state-funded school gets, there is NO reason for classes of 20 kids each to have a whole mansion for themselves like what! also brave to let the girls and boys live underthe same roof i feel like thats not very realistic, i think two big dorms for boys and girls would have sufficed but no there's like 6 mega mansions on the supercop campus now..... if bnha town used my taxes for these kids to live like this id joing shigaraki's little terrorist cell, too!!

kuroo never understood the big deal about kissing. sure, he enjoyed the few kisses he’s shared throughout his life but it wasn’t something he ever craved. the way his friends would go on and on about how kissing their significant other was intoxicating and they could never get enough just didn’t sit right with him. was there something wrong with him? why didn’t he feel the same way as his peers did?

that all changed the day he first kissed you. suddenly, he understood what his friends were talking about. anytime kuroo saw you, he wanted his lips pressed against yours, stealing your breath away from you in hopes of becoming your new source of energy. he needed to hear the cute sounds that escaped your pretty mouth, the sweet taste of whatever chapstick you had put on that morning. he wanted to be consumed by you, kiss you until he didn’t have a breath left in his body and then kiss you a little more. he was a man obsessed and your lips were the only source for his sanity. he couldn’t help himself, it felt like coming home.

kita tries to be so normal about learning he's going to be a dad, but the next morning he's feeding the chickens and he's suddenly in tears because God one day soon he's going to be teaching his child how to do this -

Osamu leaves his phone number on napkins as a way to flirt with you.

You find them everywhere. Anywhere. It’s almost always the same thing- a chicken scratched version of your name, a crudely drawn winky face, and his phone number. If it wasn’t his phone number, it was another silly flirt, cheesy as can be and making your cheeks heat up each and every time you catch it.

who needs the galaxy when the only stars i want are in your eyes?

if i could rearrange the alphabet, id put U and I together

your hand looks heavy… want me to hold it for you?

call me ;}

And you’d be completely smitten with these originally, rolling your eyes and telling him how inappropriate it was leaving little napkins scattered around the back of Onigiri Miya for you.

But you don’t have to. Because you’ve been engaged for seven months by now.

“You don’t have to waste the napkins like this,” you snip playfully, tossing a wad onto the desk he’s occupied at. “You could very easily just text me your silly ass flirts.”

He chuckles and shakes his head, standing up and strutting confidently towards you. “You wound me baby,” he says, pulling you in for an embrace. “Is it a crime to leave little love letters for my little love?” You fake a gag and he rolls his eyes before pulling you in for a hug, “besides, how will everyone know you’re mine if I don’t?”

“I wear a fat rock on my finger every day, we come in together, and I know you’ve given me marks that I’ve been unable to cover- trust me, I think they get it.”

He lets his eyes glaze up and down before settling on your lips again, “well what if I just want you to know I love you? Huh?”

“I come back here, and you tell me,” you offer with another kiss, which he takes happily. “You always tell me.” Your arms snake around his thick neck, fingers playing with the short hairs of his undercut just to hear him shiver. He settles his hands on your waist and gives you a small, playful pout.

“You really don’t like my napkin-flirts?”

“I don’t like you wasting napkins,” you snort. “Gotta leave some for the customers and staff, angel boy.”

He sighs dramatically, “fine. No more flirt napkins.”

“Good,” you say, smiling. In truth, it does seem weird that you’ll start walking into work without crude little napkins flirting with you, but it’s for the best. And it is weird for a few days, even to the point some of your staff asks about the lack of affectionate little notes.

But the strange feeling doesn’t last.

Instead, it upgrades to bright pink sticky notes, littered around the shop in a familiar fashion to the napkins, only now, stuck in place for you to find throughout the restaurant.

And every now and again, all over the house. All over.

But who would’ve known, he was right.

Because you’d be lying if you say you do hate the unprofessional little reminders.

ITS HANGES BDAYYYYYYY

can i request Tsukishima Kei having a psychologist s/o? Headcanons or a scenario, whichever is okay! Maybe something like how their relationship would be, with them being very empathetic and understanding and stuff hihi thank you!!!

MY FIRST REQUEST! Here you go sweet anon <3 My interpretation of your lovely idea. "ADMITTANCES" Pairing: Tsukishima x Fem!Reader

Rating/Warnings: T for Teen, this is SOFT BOY HOURS PART 2

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: Your boyfriend isn't the type the open up; your psychology degree pays off, sometimes.

Note: Fluff. Good to know we're all desperate to see salty boys go soft.

“Y’know, you’re awfully quiet for someone who just won a tournament.”

Tsukishima slips on his hoodie, water dripping off his hair from his shower. You watch him shrug from your cozied place on the couch. “They weren’t aggressive enough. I knew we’d get them on the second set.”

You smile at his calculating tone. “And you guys had the better defence,” you say with a wink, and it makes him crack the smile you’d been waiting for all night.

“That, too,” he murmurs. He rubs at his eyes, and moves toward you. You hand him his glasses and he gifts you a kiss on the top of your head in return. He slumps into the couch with a sigh, massaging at his hands. You watch him for a moment before reaching out gently to take his hands into your own, rubbing at his palms and wrists. Tsukishima rests his head on the back of the couch. “Thanks,” he says, closing his eyes.

“Movie or early night?” you ask. He cracks open an eye to peak at you.

“Movie? I might pass out though.”

You flicker the T.V. to life and click on something easy and light for background noise. You continue to rub at his hands, watching the lines of his face soften at your touch. “Can I ask you something?” He hums his assent before you continue. “Are you excited you won?” you ask, after a breath.

He raises his brows at your practised tone, without opening his eyes. “Is this a girlfriend question or a psychology student question?”

“This is a girlfriend question,” you assure, but then, unable to help yourself, you add, “though I am noting your subtle deflection tactic.”

He groans, but you can tell he’s amused. “I’m too tired to be excited.”

You squint your eyes at him. “I just noticed—”

“I’m sure you did,” he interjects, but smirks and turns his head on the back cushions to look at you. “Am I being observed right now?”

“People are always observing people. I just know what to look for,” you say primly, making your boyfriend snort.

Tsukishima plays along. Despite his sore muscles and drooping eyes, he has always enjoyed the mental back and forth with you. “Okay, what are you looking for then?”

You press your lips together in contemplation. Tsukishima’s eyes soften, watching you hesitate. “I dunno. You’re always so hard on yourself after games. You never celebrate, even if you do well.”

“When you have your own office, I probably wouldn’t start a sentence off with ‘I dunno.’” You scowl playfully at his teasing.

“You’re deflecting again.”

“No, I’m flirting with you,” he says pointedly. His mouth is an impassive line but his eyes are glinting. “You should learn the difference before you get clients.”

You roll your eyes to conceal your pleasure at his compliment. “I don’t plan on being flirted with at my office.”

“I don’t think you have control over how pretty you are,” he counters. His voice is neutral, almost bored, but you can see him fighting a smile.

You try to match his tone, but you’re flustered, just a little. He did that to you, unexpectedly often. “When did you become such a smooth talker?”

He shrugs faintly. “I’m not, I’m just deflecting.” He’s smug.

“You—” you break off, with an incredulous grin. “You’re a difficult case, aren’t you?”

He looks at you from over his glasses, like he’s inspecting you. “Well, let’s see, what does it say about you that you’re dating me? You like projects?” He’s pushing your buttons on purpose, playing with you. It makes you stern, which makes Tsukishima grin –a rare flash of his winning smile. In retaliation, you clamber onto his lap. He grabs onto your hips with ease. You wouldn’t have guessed it, when you first started dating Tsukishima, but now you know how much he loves your affection and touch and attention. He rarely shows it, but you can feel it in the way his hands hold you close.

“You trying to turn the tables on me, Kei?” You lean in close to his face.

His touches the tip of you nose with his, eyes fluttering shut briefly. The sweetness of that small gesture disarms you. There’s an openness with him when it’s just the both of you in private. “Just giving you a taste of your own medicine.”

You sigh, shaking your head. You take in his face with your eyes. “When was the last time you got excited about something?” you try again.

He lets out a gusty breath. “Last week. When I walked in on you trying on my Frogs jersey,” he answers quickly.

Your face gets hot at the memory. “You’re trying to distract me,” you admonish.

“Does it matter?” he mumbles. “I’m just not excitable.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” you say softly. “I think you don’t let yourself get excited about anything because you’re scared you’ll be disappointed. Like you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop. And that hurts you.”

He flinches, brows furrowing. You watch him try to hide his reaction to your words but he can’t.

“Sorry. Too much?” you ask, after his silence stretches.

His jaw twitches as he clenches and unclenches it. He’s looking everywhere but your eyes, which is quite a feat considering how close you are. He lets out a short little huff, turning his head from you. He’s annoyed, suddenly, and though the girlfriend in you is sorry to have made him so, the observer in you knows it’s a mark closer to vulnerability than his easy, teasing amusement. You know he can get snippy like this, but then you also know how hard he’s trying to be open to you.

So instead of a barbed counter, he says, “You’re not wrong.” The words are quiet and grudgingly said, but as they leave him so does his irritation. You know it took a lot to say that much. You see the line between his brows smooth at his admittance. You run a gentle hand through his damp hair. Tsukishima lets out a breath again, this time resigned. He gives your earnest, wide-eyed look a sliver of a wry smile. “Happy?”

“Kind of.” You rub a thumb at his temple. “It makes me sad to hear, though.”

He reaches up to hold your wrist loosely. “Don’t be sad. You’re not wrong, but you’re not a hundred percent right, either.” His smile turns sly.

Your brows flicker up at that. “No?”

“There are some things I let myself get excited about,” he says. He tilts his head up and you tilt your head down to catch his waiting lips. “Can I show you?” he asks, when you two part. Maybe he’s deflecting again, maybe he’s flirting, but you know these admittances from him happen in baby steps.

Instead of pushing for more, you let out an amused little sound. “I thought you were so tired.”

“All your psychoanalyzing must have woken me up.” He pulls you in, closer, closer. Closer than you know most anyone gets; that spot in his lap, that perch in his heart. When his gaze flickers to you, you see it, the secret flash of real joy. He’s letting you see it, you realize. He’s showing you this part of himself, a part that’s just for you. When he smiles again, it’s not teasing, or sharp, or wry. Your breath stutters with the sincerity of it.

“Show me,” you breathe, and he lifts you up and up, and carries you into the room you both share, in the home you’ve both made and earned, with each other and within each other.

kuroo + “are you trying to seduce me into healthier sleeping patterns?” for @therescrackinmytea <3 thank you for requesting this! this shit was so funny to write, i hope you love it babe!!

“hey!” kuroo shouts, cradling his hand to his chest rather dramatically. “did you just bite my finger?”

you turn back to your laptop with a satisfied smirk. “i asked you to stop poking me— nicely. you didn’t. play stupid games, win stupid prizes.”

your husband groans loudly, dropping his forehead onto the edge of the table. “but aren’t three warnings customary before punishment?”

“for children, maybe,” you hum distractedly. “not adult men who are trying to distract me from this spreadsheet.”

you pause, briefly glancing up at him, brow raised. “and don’t pretend you didn’t like it.”

“biting is for the bedroom only. which is where we should be because i’m tired,” he whines, turning his head so his cheek is smushed against the table. “it’s almost midnight and we both have work in the morning.”

you check your notes before filling in another column. “you know where the bedroom is.”

“come with me,” he begs, dragging himself up off the table and walking around to where you’re seated, wrapping his arms around your waist and nudging his face into your neck. “you’ve been working late the past two nights. you need to sleep.”

“i can’t,” you sigh for the dozenth time tonight. “i need to finish this first.”

“you’d rather fill in spreadsheets than turn in with your sweet, sweet, husband?” you feel him pout against your skin. “i think that’s grounds for divorce.”

you roll your eyes, turning your head a little to press a little kiss to his cheek. “husbands are replaceable. jobs are forever.”

that just makes him whine louder, pulling away to walk to the opposite end of the table. “okay, you’ve left me no choice. it’s time to bring out the big guns.”

“tetsu, if you take your shirt off—”

you scrunch your nose when his shirt hits you in the face, falling into your lap.

against your better judgement, you sneak a glance at him. he’s standing shirtless and cross-armed, putting toned biceps and abs on display, staring straight at you. “for every minute you don’t come to bed, i’m removing one article of clothing.”

“you only have two other things on,” you point out, using your pen to gesture to the plaid pyjama pants.

“then i guess you only have two minutes.”

you shake your head a little, trying your best to focus on the numbers on your laptop screen. “are you seriously trying to seduce me into healthier sleeping patterns?”

he shrugs, sending you a sly grin. “is it working?”

it was, admittedly. late nights at work or doing work had carved into a considerable amount of alone time with kuroo. lately, the two of you had been so tired that you’d knock right out as soon as your heads hit the pillows, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t missed your late night chats in bed.

he also looked really good. had he been—

“and before you ask, yes, i’ve been going to the gym with akaashi. guy’s got a solid routine.”

well, you certainly couldn’t argue with that.

so you close your laptop, stretching a bit before pushing out of your chair and shuffling over to his side. “okay, fine, you win this time.”

“it never fails,” kuroo just laughs, throwing an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in to plant a kiss on your forehead. “i swear, it’s like you only married me for my body or something. which i’m totally okay with, by the way.”

“of course,” you scoff, playfully pinching his side. “because when i get fired and we can’t pay bills, we’re going to have to sell your body to put food on our table.”

“hey, i’d be an amazing prostitute. want me to prove it?”