𝑲𝑨𝑻 ★ she her haikyuu centric blog obsessed with tōru oikawa ♡ dylan o’brien

   mlist rules taglist @kyarecs

it’s nine minutes before midnight, nine minutes before your birthday, six minutes before you turn yet another year older.

and it tugs at your heartstrings.

it’s not the aging that hurts, but it’s the fact that it’s supposed to be your special day, yet it’ll probably be like any day.

your regular routine, wake up, get ready for wherever you’re going today, school, work, maybe just grocery shopping, then you get home, and do nothing for the rest of your day. and go to sleep like it wasn’t your birthday in the first place.

your friends are all busy, and you know that they’d loved to hang out with you, maybe even throw a little surprise party, their busy schedules prevent them from doing so.

your parents are also out of town, so you’re basically all alone, well, you still have your boyfriend, oikawa. but he’s also going to be busy with volleyball practice or something close adjacent.

but your thoughts get interrupted by a frantic knock on the door, making you ponder on who in the world could be knocking on your door like a madman a few minutes before the clock strikes midnight.

you still get up from your comfortable position on the couch to see who could be at your door.

and much to your surprise, it’s oikawa. one hand behind his back and the other running through his sweat soaked hair.

“tōru? what are you—” he rushes to kiss your cheek, although it’s more his lips grazing across your face in a quick movement than a kiss, but it’s the thought that counts.

he hurriedly steps in your house and brushes past you, still making sure you don’t see what he’s holding behind his back.

you check your phone, and it’s now three minutes before the clock hits midnight. maybe that’s why he was in such a rush.

you walk after him, and see him already plopped on your couch. along with a small chocolate cake on your coffee table, decorated with strawberries around the edges, and a ‘happy birthday, y/n’ written in cursive with white buttercream.

he’s fumbling with a hot pink lighter in his hand, an old crappy one from the back of a kitchen drawer, which barely has any fuel left.

there’s a single candle in the center of the cake, one of those small, striped ones you always had on cakes since you were a kid.

“does it work? i can look for a different one.” you ask, making him look up at you. snapping him out of his focus of trying to get the lighter to actually light up.

“just c’mere, it’ll work.” his tongue sticks out a little in focus, and it puts a small smile on your face. he pats the space beside him, beckoning you to come sit down.

you sit down, and he checks his phone another time. 11:59, only a minute left to get the crappy lighter to work so you can make the wish when the clock strikes.

he murmurs something incoherent, his thumb swiping over the sparkwheel over and over, alas to no avail.

“i can get a new one, this one clearly isn’t working,” you laugh through a breath, getting ready to get up. but he stops you by placing a hand on your thigh.

“baby, you have to make the wish when the clock strikes. it won’t count if you don’t.” he’s serious about this, his brows are furrowed and he’s now biting his bottom lip lightly. using all his willpower to get the damned lighter to give a little more than a spark.

he flicks his thumb one more time, and there it is, an actual flame.

he has no time to get excited over it finally working, he has to light the candle before the flame dims again, placing him right back where he started.

he quickly moves to light the candle, still making sure it’s working before he lights the candle. and the lighter gives up the next second after the flame hits the wick.

only now can he do a little victory wiggle, his hand lightly sqeeuzing your thigh, before grabbing the small cake. careful not to let the flame die down from a rapid movement.

“make a wish, baby.” the atmosphere seems to quiet down from his words, all the other sounds and noises from outside your little bubble tuned out.

you don’t hear the faucet in your bathroom dripping anymore, you don’t hear the gush of wind coming through your slightly ajar window. it’s all blurred out.

all you hear is oikawa’s steady breathing, and the flickering of the candle.

the clock has definitely hit midnight already, but you don’t want this moment to end so quickly. and have it all end as a fleeting memory, one you’ll reminisce in the future.

even if it’s simply eating a cake from the grocery store on the comfort of your couch, in old pajamas and spot cream. with oikawa sitting next to you looking like he ran two marathons back to back, his shirt lightly clinging to his back from the remnants of the summer heat.

it’s a moment you want to last forever, it’s so peaceful to be here with him. on the first minutes of your birthday.

sure you’ve definitely gotten a few ‘happy birthday!’ texts from your friends, but none of them ran all the way to your house to be with you, only he did.

he really didn’t need to, but he still did anyway.

his first thought before the clock striked twelve was you, and how you’d been feeling, since he knows you’re always a bit down on your birthday.

the thing with aging, and not having many people around you to celebrate, he knows it, he knows that exact feeling.

when he lived full time in argentina fresh after graduation, alone in a small dorm room funded by his club, with a small cupcake infront of him, no candle to accompany it.

and he didn’t call anyone, not even you. not wanting to bother you as you’re about to go to sleep, or probably asleep already.

so he knows what it feels like to, to have no one share the special moment of being a year older again.

and he’d run to your house at near midnight after a gruesome flight everytime, if it meant you wouldn’t be so gloomy anymore.

your smile is all he needs to function properly, so when he knows you’re not smiling, he has to take immediate action.

even if it’s to bring a dry chocolate cake your way, and to celebrate your birthday for a few minutes, maybe sing for you, or plop down in bed after devouring the cake.

it’s all worth it if it’s for you, he needs you to be smiling on your birthday, that’s the one day where it’s illegal for you to be sad.

so as he stares at you with hearts in his eyes, chin resting in his palm, he wishes to spend every birthday with you like this.

and that’s exactly what you wish for when you blow out the candle, to spend every birthday— and every other day, with him.

dear nique,

words can’t describe how happy i am to have met you, and call you one of my friends.

you’re so dear to me. you’re one of the best friends imaginable, atleast to me that is.

you’re a sweetheart, you’re funny, and you have all the other good character traits in the world.

i love talking to you alot, it always puts a smile on my face whenever we talk.

it could be about anything, really anything at all, and we’d be able to have a full blown conversation about it, no matter how crazy it is.

and i love how you always support my delusions, and my little 67 problem.

you’re so dear to me, and i love you so much.

and now, it’s your birthday, your special day, the day that’s only about you, no one else.

i’d vouch to call june 2nd ‘nique day’ if that were possible, since i now associate this date with you.

you’ve become a light in my life, and i don’t want that to ever dim or flicker.

this letter may not be much, but i hope you do appreciate it.

happy birthday, nique, may this be a day filled with joy and gifts for you.

i love you 🫶🏻,

pea(kat)ron

taglist 1/2: @akaashiit, @blythmourning, @bakugosgrenade, @bookworm-center, @levisotakugf, @wellitseugi, @badtzmai, @returntothefae, @noyamlv, @charukii, @amisuh, @z9mbo, @showhay, @wowbyselene, @heavybit3rr, @kotarosangel, @kpopmultistans, @girlwithanattitude, @eclipsedivan, @imgonnashartmyself, @listentothemelody00, @dearestelsie, @scarymygodurdivine, @sw4g4lyf, @sh0dor1, @isimpforthemiyatwins, @toootallynotae, @seafoodboil10, @sunnyfieldsz, @an1ki3gai, @kagstobioisthelightofmylife, @qrxswan, @s1ckntw1st3d, @imagoodwriter, @jinshigooner, @haniipie, @venusdreamr, @cwinxclub, @superswagboi05, @creamelon, @xyyyulat, @shookykookie30, @misasprout, @https-kasley, @jojo23allegra, @katsukisser, @a2m-saranghae, @miismelater, @b455guitar, @sunnysideupx5, @thebrokeperson101, @thickthighsthickthighs, @sickenedhonesty, @livelaughlovetoru, @suik4, @sunabeloved

stiles’ mind is easily changed. all it takes is one single kiss, and he’ll do whatever you ask of him.

including carrying all your bags when you’re out shopping.

“is this cute?” you ask, holding a striped black and white top infront of you, picturing how it’d look on you with the help of the mirror.

“yeah, yeah. you look fantastic in everything, now can we leave? i’m so not doing this for any longer, i might die.” he groans, leaning against a wall like it’s the only thing keeping him standing upright.

you playfully roll your eyes at him. you know you should’ve done this with lydia or allison, but it’s fun to bring your boyfriend along some time, and you haven’t been on a date in a while, so it’s perfect.

even if all the words out of his mouth have been complaints, and stiles can ramble on and on, so you bet the complaints were one after another.

he’s been complaining that it’s too hot inside the mall, glaring hard at anyone who resembles a construction worker to fix the air conditioning, even if it’s not all that hot inside.

complaints about when you guys can go home, or even get a bite to eat somewhere, he’ll even complain about his shoe being tied incorrectly, even if it’s perfectly fine.

you know he doesn’t like this, shopping for hours and hours on end, because it’s really a girl thing, not a stiles thing.

maybe he just needs a little help, something to pepper his mood up a little.

you go to the checkout, to pay for the abundance of clothes slung around your arm, stiles lazily trailing behind you, covering his eyes when you’re paying for your stuff.

the girl behind the counter grabs the biggest bag available, strategically placing all your clothes and other miscellaneous items in the bag so everything fits, so you won’t need another one. considering you already have four.

you take the bag from her, but oh boy is it heavy.

you might’ve gone a teeny tiny bit overboard, but those clothes will last you two summers, maybe three. so it’s completely worth it.

she gives you a sympathetic look before you walk out, stiles snapping out of his trance that wasn’t filled with shopping bags and tanktops, quickly jogging to walk beside you.

“are you done now?” it’s just you now, since he was done with all of this two hours ago.

“maybe, i can’t hold any other bags.” which is right, your hands and arms are completely occupied by shopping bags, the thin paper handle digging into your skin.

“oh thank god, i was on the verge of hallucinating sequin tops and leather print leggings back there, with that really annoying song in the background.” the dramatic sigh he lets out makes you laugh.

“unless, you carry my bags for me?” you look at him with your best puppy eyes, knowing that that’s what usually causes him to give in, but it doesn’t seem to do the trick today.

he lets out a loud groan, yes normally he’d love to hold your bags for you, in situations that there’s no more than two, but five is really over the limit.

so, you settle for the next best thing to try and win him over.

you move over a little so you’re standing infront of him, and move your face just close enough to his so your lips brush, startling him the slightest bit.

and then you lean in closer, a hand on his shoulder to steady yourself as you deepen the kiss.

and you pull away just as fast as the kiss was, making his eyes go wide like he witnessed a murder right infront of his eyes.

“did you just—” you give him a cheeky grin, “hold my bags for me?” you ask again, hoping and praying that the kiss made him cave.

“yep, gimmie all your bags, i’d die before my girlfriend had to carry all those super heavy bags on her own, that would put too much shame on my game.” you hand him your bags, and his posture falters a little when you hand him the heaviest one.

he regrets his decision a little, maybe half, maybe completely, but you guys can finally go home now, right?

you’re already dragging him somewhere before he can fully decide if he regrets this or not.

and no it’s not a fast food place, not the grocery store, but you’re heading to ulta. and he knows you’ll be there for a really good while.

oikawa who doesn’t know what personal space is, and especially not yours.

he won’t even leave you alone if you’re showering.

you’re in the middle of washing your hair, and you hear the door creak open.

and you sigh, knowing it’s none other than your boyfriend who is glued to you all the time, any time of day. not an axe murderer, hopefully.

you don’t say anything, and continue shampooing your hair. trying not to let the incoming annoyance get to you.

this was supposed to be your one moment of peace of the day, the one moment you had alone.

but of course, a moment alone doesn’t exist when you live together with the one and only oikawa.

“baby, are you ignoring me?” even if you can’t exactly see him, the shower curtain blocking him from your view. if he isn’t peeking through it that is, you can hear the pout he has on his face.

“no, i’m busy showering.” you roll your eyes, really not amused at his antics right now.

he was supposed to be home late, since he went out with his old friends from high school. so it’s certainly a surprise that he came home this early, and exactly when you’re showering.

“can i join you?” of course he asks this, you didn’t expect anything less from him. but you’re really not in the mood to wash your body in a cramped shower because you have a six foot two human being beside you.

knowing him, he’s probably already stripping his clothes off of him right now, even if you didn’t give him an answer, he’ll do it anyway.

giving him a response is futile, so you don’t. he’ll step in the shower no matter if your answer was a yes or no, or nothing.

so in the midst of reaching for the bottle of conditioner, you feel his arms snake around your waist. pulling you flush against him.

so yeah, personal space isn’t a thing when you’ve got oikawa around.

it’s your agonizing cramps versus you, and the cramps are winning, by alot. and you’re so close to admitting defeat.

but then, your savior comes to the battle, to help you fight the enemy, or atleast weaken it by a little, or a lot.

‘you okay, doll?’ sukuna comes in the living room, in all his shirtless and wet hair glory, his eyes softening at the sight of your curled up figure on the couch.

‘does it look like i’m okay?’ you send a nasty glare his way, making him involuntarily wince, the sudden realization kicking in that it’s that time of the month again.

he mutters something under his breath, then padding over to you.

he sits down next to you on the plush couch, careful not to sit too close, or else you might hit him, maybe even kill him, he can never predict it.

‘sit,’ he says casually, patting his lap without making too much noise, knowing that’ll aggravate you even more.

you hesitate for a moment, staring at his lap, which really does look pretty comfortable right now, and you could definitely use a change of position.

you climb into his lap, and immediately curl up again, not risking a single moment with extra pain.

but he stops you before you can fully turn in on yourself, big, steady hands on your waist and shoulder.

you give him a nasty look, and he can almost feel his fight or flight senses kick in, mostly the flight part though.

he moves his hands to rest on your lower stomach, putting the slighest pressure on the area, relieving your pain by a little, but it’s much better than how you were feeling earlier.

‘better?’ he asks, keeping his voice as quiet and soft as possible. almost nervous to speak up.

you hum, resting your head against his chest, the pain lulling bit by bit as he presses on different points with his fingers, finally giving you the relief you’ve been chasing for hours.

it’s a known fact by both you and tsukishima, that he absolutely loves your hair.

even though he won’t say it out loud, there’s enough signs to prove it.

he really, really likes having his hands in your hair. always finding excuse after excuse just to touch it.

stuff like, ‘there’s something in your hair’ when in reality there’s literally nothing in your hair, just so he has the chance to run his fingers through your hair to get the supposed ‘something’ out.

and also, whenever you hug him, one of his hands naturally gravitates towards your head, his lanky fingers running through your soft strands.

he’s obsessed with your hair, it’s so soft to the touch, always smells heavenly, it’s perfect to run his hands through after a long day.

and you’ve noticed how much he likes it, he isn’t exactly slick about it.

recently, he’s been asking to comb your hair after a shower, dry it for you, since he knows how exhausting it can get, holding your arms above your head for too long at a time.

and he never does stuff like that.

he’s always yammering on about ‘aren’t you so ‘independent’? why don’t you do it yourself.’ when you ask him to grab the chocolate bar on the high shelf.

and yes he’ll eventually grab it for you after half an hour, saying he’s tired of your whining and useless attempts at reaching the shelf.

so him asking to do something for you, is new, and it’s really odd. but you can’t exactly complain.

i won’t be going on hiatus, don’t worry. my hands can’t be taken away from this app, and i’ve also been trying to lessen my screentime on here, since it’s pretty bad

kuroo who loves seeing you all dolled up, frilly dresses, lace accessories, baby pink eyeshadow on your lids, with a tiny amount of glitter along with them.

kuroo who smirks everytime you shy away from him when he’s kissed you, lightly swatting at his chest with red cheeks, muttering something incoherent.

kuroo who loves watching you do your makeup, watching with admiration how your tongue sticks out in focus when you’re doing eyeliner, trying to keep your hands as still as possible so you won’t mess up the straight thin line, then kissing you right after you’ve applied your lipstick, seeing how your face goes one shade redder, even under the foundation and blush.

kuroo who indulges in all your wants, new dresses, a new pair of earrings, a new perfume, you name it, and he’ll buy it without hesitation. it’s all worth it for the fashion show you’ll give him later, all giddy and excited as you twirl around in a new skirt.

kuroo who intentionally lets his hands linger on your hips, and his lips brushing the shell of your ear, knowing it makes your breath hitch and squirm, your face growing warm to the realization you’re in public, a low laugh coming from the man behind you, completely knowing what he’s doing to you.

kuroo who finds it amusing how shy you can get some of the time, most of the time actually. e.g. when a stranger talks to you, even if it’s just a friendly old woman complimenting your hair, he notices how you freeze up for a second and then brush her comment off, muttering a shy “thank you” and quickly walking further.

kuroo who tells his friends about you, slipping a compliment in every sentence he speaks, knowing it always flusters you to bits when you’re the topic of conversation, and he always finds a way to make whatever he’s talking about with anyone, about you. even if you’re not there to hear it all.

kuroo who loves when you dress up all pretty for him, skirts with ruffles and polka dots, kitten heels, a top with bows adorning it, and maybe something lace underneath it all for after your date.

and i’ve still got an event ongoing, which i can’t edit for some reason— and my series, which has really slow updates, and i’m sorry for that