mizunetzu - Tumblr blog

mizunetzu · 2 years

Note

PLS DO A PART TWO ON THE BOKUTO IN MY MIND FIC I'M BEGGING UUUUU DIWKXHWBCIEHDJDJD

sure HAHAHAHHA

——————

Bokuto x reader - In My Mind (pt. 2)

⚠️ Warnings - none !

Pronouns - male, he/him

you can find part one here!

——————

(Y/n) (L/n) was not fine.

(Y/n) (L/n) was stressing.

(Y/n) noticed something was up the moment Bokuto didn’t shriek his usual morning greeting from the doorway. What’s wrong? Was he sick? He walked in, shoulders hunched like he was trying to make himself smaller, and slid into his seat. For once, Bokuto Koutarou was trying to not gain any attention.

(Y/n) tried his best to hide his subtle stares. Bokuto was hunched over his desk, eyebrows slightly upturned and bottom lip between his teeth, like he was trying to hold back something. He didn’t look like his usual, cheery, bright self.

It sounded selfish, but (Y/n) had always looked to Bokuto’s light to brighten up his own dull self. He couldn’t radiate happiness the way Bokuto did. Bokuto brought a smile to everyone’s faces, hell, even his own.

So what had happened today that had dampened his happy?

And… where was his good morning?

In the midst of thinking, (Y/n) had kept direct eye contact with Bokuto’s pathetic form. Bokuto looked up, and eventually trailed off and met eyes with (Y/n). His eyes widened horrifically, and he averted his gaze faster than (Y/n) could process. In fact, he turned his whole body away from him. (Y/n) furrowed his eyebrows, a small frown tugging at his lips. He put his head down in his arms, both him and Bokuto now sporting the same, closed off, sulking pose. One thing had been abundantly clear, in (Y/n’s) brain. He had definitely done something wrong.

——————

It continued like this for days. No more good mornings.

There were also no more endless rants or splurges during passing periods, no more walking home from school with Bokuto, no more lunches where Bokuto would plop himself down suspiciously close and start bugging him for his bento, nothing.

And (Y/n) didn’t know why.

Today was the 7th consecutive time Bokuto Koutarou had ignored him. He had kept count. He didn’t even hide the way he’d stare at Bokuto with hurt puppy eyes. He’d burn holes into Bokuto’s side with his gaze, and all he got in response was an uncomfortable shift in his seat.

After staring him down for the nth time that morning, (Y/n) looked down to his lap, where he was fiddling with fingers. He could think of at least eighty-nine things he could’ve possibly done to upset Bokuto, and if he thought some more, he could probably come up with even more.

“—This assignment, I will be assigning partners. More or less who I believe you will get the most work done with, or for those of you who… struggle, who could help you get work done. However, I don’t mind if you decide you want to work by yourself for this one either.” The teacher had been talking, and for the first time, he hadn’t realized he was missing everything. He usually paid attention and would regurgitate the information back in a dumber way for Bokuto.

He looked up just in time to hear the teacher listing off the names of people in partners. He hadn’t been paying much attention to the work right now, so he’d have to have his partner explain to him what they were doing—

“Next, (L/n)-kun and Bokuto-kun. You two seem to be very good friends.”

(Y/n) froze. From shock or excitement, he didn’t know. But he saw a chance. His eyes flicked to Bokuto, who wasn’t looking back at him. His eyes burned with hope he didn’t have once in the last few days. Screw this assignment. He couldn’t care less about his grade right now, but he couldn’t thank his teacher more for pairing them up together.

(Y/n) was memorizing what he would say to Bokuto, when he stood up.

“Teach’?” Bokuto murmured. His face was downcast, his eyes staring off to the side and completely unreadable. The teacher hummed in acknowledgment.

“I wanna work by myself.”

Never once did Bokuto’s eyes land on (Y/n). There was no show of any sort of emotion on his face, and if there was, it wasn’t a good one. It unsettled (Y/n). He couldn’t read him.

“Alright. (L/n)?” (Y/n) looked up to the teacher reluctantly. “I think you’ll get along with Kazashi-san well. I know how reserved you are. Why don’t you work with her?”

(Y/n) cringed at the mention of working with a complete stranger. He wanted to work with Bokuto. Still, that didn’t stop ‘Kazashi’ from sauntering over to his seat, and sitting down in the chair in front of him.

“Hello, (L/n).” Kazushi said. The tamber in her friendly, bubbly voice made (Y/n) want to puke. It wasn’t the same when someone other than Bokuto was cheery and sunshiny.

“I-I would like to work alone as well-!”

(Y/n) blurted out, raising his hand and standing up from his seat. Kazushi puffed out her cheeks, a small scowl on her face. The teacher blinked, and mumbled out a “Sure… Kazushi-san, uh, go work with Akiro-san and Toshi-kun.”

(Y/n) fumbled back down onto his seat, swallowing a very flustered clump in his throat. For some, that was the loudest people had ever heard his voice. He stared blankly as papers were passed out, placed on his desk, as did Bokuto.

(Y/n) couldn’t breathe. His vision wouldn’t single in on the paper he was supposed to be writing, alone, and it only grew fuzzier when he tried to focus. Maybe more he relaxed, the more the feeling would go away, and maybe he could take in some oxygen. Yeah, yeah that should work. He gently laid his head on his desk, trying to ignore the achy feeling in his chest as he took labored breaths. He tried to make himself as tiny and limp as possible. He didn’t realize how stupid he looked.

But as he lay there, doing everything to ease the nonexistent pain in his gut, he knew. He had a name for that achy, hollow feeling. As he watched Bokuto, who hated working alone, choose solidarity just to get away from him, as scenes of him not paying Bokuto much direct eye-to-eye attention, as he sat there, alone, wanting to sob and scream and crawl out of the depth of rope he was tied under…

That horrible, gnawing feeling clinging to his insiders was named “guilt.”

——————

New day, new beginnings.

(Y/n) repeated those words in his head, gripping the condensing can of green tea in his shaky hands. The forming drops of liquid seeped into his palms, but he couldn’t care less. He set the bottle down gently on Bokuto’s school desk. (Y/n) wiped his hands on his school blazer, and hurried off to his own desk. He was the only one in the classroom, a bit eager to see Bokuto and maybe apologize.

After pointless minutes of waiting and waiting, the sound of the door sliding open caught his ear. He stared shamelessly as Bokuto, Konoha, and Washio all filed in, mid-conversation. It was all coming into place. He’d see the little gift, then see him, he’ll say sorry for whatever it was he did, and he won’t have the aching, incessant throb in his chest suffocating him anymore. And better yet, he'd have Bokuto back.

He watched with glassy eyes as Bokuto stopped mid-sentence, picking up the drink from his desk. He watched as Bokuto studied the bottle of green tea bought from the school vending machines, turning it this way and that. And he watches as Bokuto’s eyes flickered to him, himself. (Y/n) stiffened, but wilted when Bokuto's eyes flitted back to his friends seemingly without a second thought.

And that aching throb in his chest only grew louder when he watched the drink he bought get offered to Konoha, who refused. Bokuto twisted open the drink and went back to talking with his friends. He could only sit there in awe as more and more students filed into the classroom.

Even in a room full of people, (Y/n) felt alone. And, for once, he didn’t have Bokuto there to save him.

——————

Every single fiber of his body ached with a guilt he didn’t even know how he caused.

He ached to fix it. He ached to get rid of the ache. God, this whole ordeal was starting to make (Y/n) lose sleep.

(Y/n) trudged his way through the rather empty hallway. Skipping out on his club was something he never did, but he got too antsy and ticked off by his fellow club members trying to pry inside his mind, asking if he was ‘okay.’ Of course he wasn’t okay.

It’s been 3 weeks since he’d spoken to Bokuto.

Guilt was eating him up. It crippled him, consuming his every thought, action, everything. He thought he knew emotion. He thought he had the concept of ‘guilt’ down to perfection. But he underestimated its power. It made him irrational.

Which is why he found himself waiting outside the school gates, long after dark, waiting for Bokuto to get out of practice.

He had been waiting outside in the cold for hours- when the hell did practice end?- warming up his numb hands with his breath, and part of him wanted to just go home and try again tomorrow. It was really cold.

And even if he did get to speak to Bokuto, what would he even say? He didn’t even know what he did, what they were fighting over. What was supposed to say to that? How would he even get past stopping him at the school entrance?

(Y/n) was so lost in thought, he didn’t even notice the gaggle of sweaty volleyball players heading towards the exit of the school. (Y/n’s) manic eyes widened dramatically, landing on Bokuto, who began parting with his teammates. He waved goodbye to the remainders of his team, before looking back ahead, and freezing.

For a while, the two just stared at eachother, unmoving, in the breeze of Tokyo’s cold nights. (Y/n) somehow forgot all about his numb hands. After what seemed like ages, Bokuto averted his gaze stiffly and attempted to speedwalk away without saying a word. It was clear as day, now.

Bokuto Koutarou was ignoring him.

The bitter truth seemed to hurt more that (Y/n) had anticipated. It stung like a slap to the cheek, though (Y/n) had no time to recoil, as Bokuto was already heaps away. He snapped out of his daze, and began stumbling his way in Bokuto’s direction.

“W-wait…” (Y/n’s) voice wouldn’t come out the way he wanted it to. “Bokuto-kun, I-”

No response. His figure grew smaller as he walked away from him. (Y/n) began to stutter towards him faster, with his hand extending out shyly.

“Bokuto-kun..”

No response. (Y/n) staggered towards him like a tipsy man. Chains and chains and chains and chains and chains of guilt pulled him away. Bokuto seemed to be moving so fast, whilst (Y/n’s) world played in slow-motion.

“Bokuto-”

No response. Bokuto never once turned around. The wall of invisibility between them only grew thicker with every step he took. It all happened so slow, yet so fast at the same time. (Y/n) began to push against the weights.

“B-Bokuto!”

No response. (Y/n) forced his voice out, and for once, it obeyed. His legs pushed faster. They were at such a distance that there would be no way Bokuto wouldn't have heard him. He knew it clearly, as more guilt wrapped around his legs. Bokuto was actively ignoring him. It hurt.

“Bokuto!”

No response. Rows of houses surfaced. The world seemed to spin against (Y/n’s) will, spinning and spinning, playing a melody of ringing that blared in his ears. Bokuto seemed to walk impossibly faster- he was practically jogging. (Y/n) met the ground, tripping over his non-existent chains and crashing pathetically onto his knees.

“Koutarou!”

No response.

But when he didn’t hear the sound of booming footsteps growing smaller, (Y/n) looked up to find Bokuto staring back at him. There was a blank, slightly awed face on his features, staring him down as if he was waiting for him to speak. (Y/n) picked himself up hastily, and a bit pathetically.

They were staring at eachother again, and (Y/n’s) voice had decided that it had had enough of yelling for tonight. Nothing would come out of his mouth, and god, with the way Bokuto pursed his lips sadly, and began to walk away, he wish something would’ve.

Bokuto turned back around. His head was down, and his shoulders sagged with the heavy sigh he let out. (Y/n’s) face darkened. “W-wait, please-”

He didn’t. Bokuto kept his head down, and kept walking. His vision began closing in on him, the world melded into purely nothing but the disappearing figure that was practically his only friend.

Friend. Did he even have the right to call him that anymore? Why wasn’t Bokuto saying anything? (Y/n) continued to call out to him, telling him to wait, even just for a second, but it all seemed to get lost in translation. Does he not see him at all? (Y/n’s) body seemed to seize up limb by limb under the deafening silence. Did he not care? Did he not care about him? Did he not care about him anymore? Did he ever care? It hurt. It stung. (Y/n) whipped up his head in a state of hysteria. “I’m sorry!”

(Y/n) grasped at his, surprisingly messed up and sweaty, hair. His eyes were blurring with tears, everything in front of him turning into a meld of watercolor. He brought his trembling hands to his eyes to messily wipe away the tears on his sleeves. They kept coming. He wiped more. He kept his arms guarding his face, hiding his vulnerable state from Bokuto as much as he could. It was embarrassing. He looked, and felt, pathetic. He was gasping in breaths, but every breath in seeming to produce endless tears in return. He sank to his knees. “I’m sorry I- I don't know what I did and I- I feel so- so- so bad and I- I miss you so much-”

“What!?” Bokuto yelled, a sense of dread lacing his voice. (Y/n) didn’t hear him over his hips and sobs, continuing his nonsensical babbling of “I’m sorry,” and “I feel horrible.”

“I just- don’t leave me… you can- can hate me, just… don’t-- don’t… Please… I-I love… I need… I want-”

“No! Fuck! Wait!” Bokuto panicked, rushing over to (Y/n) and practically throwing himself onto his knees. “Why are you crying!? Did I do something!? No! No! Please- no-! Stop crying, please!”

Bokuto scooped up (Y/n’s) melting face into his hands and tipped it up. (Y/n) let his hands drop placidly to his sides, still sobbing violently and purling nonsense. He began hastily and nervously shooing away tears.

“Fuuuuuck-! Why are you crying…?” Bokuto squawked. (Y/n) hiccuped.

“You- you’re ignoring me and I- I- I don’t know why-!” (Y/n) sobbed, voice slightly muffled from Bokuto hastily wiping away tears. “I’m sorry if I did something just please-”

“No!” Bokuto squawked. “No! Fuck! I got- you- we got it all wrong!”

“I thought you hated me!”

(Y/n) blinked. He sniffled. “What…? Who told you that?”

“Well-” Bokuto thought back. Now that he thought about it, no one really told him that (Y/n) hated him. Give him personal space, sure, but no one said (Y/n) hated Bokuto. Bokuto grimaced. “Well… I just.. thought so!”

“So I just trying to… give you personal space a bit n stuff yanno…” Bokuto’s voice died out into a murmur.

“I don’t want ‘personal space’..!” (Y/n) clasped Bokuto’s hands. “I… I like it when you tell me good morning every day..! And- and when you have lunch with me! And when you walk me home sometimes! I-”

“I love you!”

Bokuto blinked. (Y/n) was huffing. This was not happening. He pinched (Y/n’s) cheeks lightly. They were real. He wasn’t making shit up. “Holy shit.” was the first thing that came out of Bokuto’s mouth, and he kind of wished he said something cooler. “Holy shit!”

“I love you too! Like- so much! I love you so much! We should- we should like, go out! Does that mean I can hang out with you again!? I’m so happy!”

Again, Bokuto wished he would’ve said something cooler, but (Y/n) didn’t mind, and so did Bokuto. He got his point across.

Especially with the way (Y/n) leaned into Bokuto’s hands, still cupping his face, with the way (Y/n) smiled one of his cute, reserved smiles, with the way Bokuto clumsily clacked foreheads with him, he’s pretty sure he got his point across pretty well. ——————

“You guys are fucking gross.” Konoha said. Bokuto looked up, as did (Y/n). Bokuto was laying his head happily in (Y/n’s) lap, as (Y/n) stroked and messed with his hair. “Get a fucking room.”

“You’re the one intruding on our precious lunch time!” Bokuto whined. He buried his head stubbornly in (Y/n’s) lap. “We’re not even in a public space! This space is private!” “You were the one who actively sought us out, so maybe you’re the pervert here.”

Konoha sighed, and walked away. There was no point in trying to get Bokuto up and off to their little impromptu volleyball practice.

Man, sometimes, he had no clue what went on inside of Bokuto’s mind.

——————

tags: @iwillbiteabitch

549 notes · View notes

mizunetzu · 2 years

Note

OH LAWD YOU'VE RETURNED

INDEED I DID

#mr mizunetzu

10 notes · View notes

mizunetzu · 2 years

Note

Omg I’m so glad you’re back and doing good !! If you’re still looking for hurt/comfort fic ideas maybe one w Bokuto and a reader that’s super emotionally closed off and bokuto thinks he did something wrong and it all ends in the reader breaking down to him :) for a male reader using he/him pronouns please :)

this was such a fun prompt! this made me feel like i was back into the groove of "hurt/comfort king mizu" LMFAO. anyways, i decided to be an ass and split it into two parts even though i could honestly pull a "sweet sweet lies call drunk miya atsumu" and just make a hella long fic. ANYWAYS ENJOY, BECAUSE I SURE DID AHAHA

i took a bit of creative liberty with this prompt, mainly because you gave me a really good idea!! I'm sorry if its not completely true to your request!

——————

Bokuto x reader - In My Mind

⚠️ Warnings - none !

pronouns - male, he/him

you can find part two here!

——————

Every morning, the loud man with the spiky, grey-ish hair would yell “Good morning, (Y/n)!” from the door to the classroom.

It became a routine. Every morning, without fail, the man would yell “Good Morning!” specifically and only to (Y/n) (L/n), and only after the thirteenth time, did (Y/n) learn that the man's name was “Bokuto Koutarou.”

(Y/n) didn’t know why. In fact, their interactions weren’t only limited to morning greetings before class. In recent times, Bokuto would self-invite himself to (Y/n’s) secluded lunch spot, or walk him to and from classes, after school, hell even before school and talk, talk, talk his ears off.

Before he did, but now, (Y/n) didn’t seem to mind it. It was… good white noise, was what he told himself.

“Good morning, (Y/n)!” Right on cue, Bokuto slid the classroom door open, and chirped out his greeting right in the doorway. (Y/n) sat in the back of the classroom, and he never quite knew why Bokuto insisted on yelling his greetings from across the whole room everyday. How was he not embarrassed?

As per usual, (Y/n) didn’t respond. What are you supposed to say to something like that? Everyday? Was he supposed to yell it back? ‘Good Morning, man with spiky hair who I’ve barely learned was Bokuto Koutarou!’

Bokuto never seemed to mind his silence, though. He strut his way over to (Y/n), plopped down in his seat (which was so conveniently next to (Y/n’s) seat) and began talking about the funny looking cat on the street he found that morning, one that resembled some dude from another school. How could a cat look like a person? Spiky hair? Slanted eyes? (Y/n) didn’t know.

Bokuto Koutarou was a funny guy.

——————

Bokuto sulked down the hallway.

Sometimes, the break between classes felt longer than usual. And though he was grateful for less time sitting down and shutting up, sometimes he didn’t really know what to do in the downtime. He couldn’t find seem to find Akaashi, Washio was off with Konoha to wash the wasabi stains off his shirt, (Y/n) was…

…doing nothing, walking down the hallway aswelll! Bokuto’s eyes glimmered. (Y/n)! His current infatuation! The quiet, pretty boy who sat next to him! (Y/n)!

“(Y/n)!” Bokuto jogged up to (Y/n), who had flinched when his name was, quite literally, hollered from ten feet away in a relatively quiet hallway. (Y/n) turned around, squinting and holding his chest in shock. Bokuto grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, sorry! Did I scare you!? I was just really excited when I saw you because I got really bored and really lonely but then I saw you and was like all ‘YEAHH’ and…”

(Y/n) turned back forward, and Bokuto trailed slightly behind him, still talking. It was baffling how many topics this guy could pull out of his ass at any given moment. But how could he not? There was so much he wanted to tell (Y/n)!

——————

Lunch time was the trickiest for Bokuto.

(Y/n) would always beeline for the door and to his little lunch spot behind the school yard, and Bokuto would struggle catching him in time to walk with him. He was really good at dodging everyone clammoring for the door, wasn’t he? Maybe he was just too… beefy. Nonetheless, Bokuto could never seem to catch (Y/n) in time before he was out the door.

The lunch bell rang, snapping Bokuto into focus mode. He would catch him today.

“(Y/n)! Wait up-!” Bokuto spat, fumbling out of his desk as quickly as he could, but (Y/n) was already out the door. He wilted.

But it’s okay, because Bokuto always finds his way to (Y/n’s) lunch spot, and plops himself down close to (Y/n) and opens up the sandwich he buys from the cafeteria.

“You’re way too damn fast, (Y/n)!” (Y/n) says nothing, glancing at him with an unreadable expression before digging into his lunchbox.

Oh, well, he’ll catch him tomorrow. He’ll definitely catch him tomorrow.

Bokuto takes a big chomp out of his sandwich and begins talking like he usually does.

——————

Afterschool, every time he didn’t have volleyball practice, Bokuto would say the same thing.

“(Y/n)! Lets go eat ramen! I’m free today!”

And (Y/n) would say the same thing everyday.

“...not today.”

Bokuto would wilt, but spring back up again so comically after five minutes, when he spots an interesting looking rock, or when he sees a new keychain on (Y/n’s) bag. Everyday.

And today was no different.

“(Y/n)! I don’t have practice today! We should do something! Like ramen! I’m hungry!”

Bokuto walked uncomfortably close to (Y/n), making (Y/n) shuffle away a few steps, red in the face.

“I…” (Y/n) didn’t know what to say in times like this. “...I’m not really hungry.”

“That’s okay! We can go to the arcade!”

“It’s very loud there.”

“T-then maybe we could-!”

“My house is over there.” (Y/n) muttered, gesturing his finger over to the block of houses across the street. Bokuto didn’t realize that they were there already. He deflated, with a small ‘oh.’

(Y/n) gave a reserved “bye,” and Bokuto yelled back, “Goodbye, (Y/n)! See you tomorrow!”

Bokuto waved, and kept waving until (Y/n) disappeared from sight. Once he was gone, he paused, let his arm drop to his side pathetically, turned around, and in the opposite direction, began walking home…

…which was about a mile away.

But that didn’t matter! He got to walk with (Y/n) just a little more everyday. And one day, they’d go out for ramen! One day for sure!

Bokuto hummed a little tune to himself, kicking up pebbles as he walked.

——————

“But-but-but-but-but theeeen!” Bokuto whined, getting changed into a practice shirt in the club room. Akaashi, once again, was subjected to Bokuto’s long rants. If it wasn’t (Y/n), it was usually Akaashi. “He was all like, ‘i’m not really hungry, hurrr-durrr.’ like- who isn’t hungry after school!?”

“Well, for one, he packs bento every morning, and two, he doesn’t burn calories like sand like you do, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto sputtered. “But! But--But then- he was all ‘arcades are too loud’-”

“Some people don’t like loud. And the arcade is very loud. It gives me a headache, and it probably gives him one, too.” Akaashi said, slipping on his knee pads. He didn’t bother looking up at Bokuto, who was currently flustered and stammering like a broken car engine. Just as Bokuto gathered his tongue and his teeth in his jelly-mouth to form words, Konoha cut in, and cut deep. He had said nothing until now, choosing to ignore Bokuto’s daily whining about his puppy love crush, but he felt like he should get a thought into Bokuto’s feeble mind.

“Bokuto, dude, in the nicest way possible… do you even know if (Y/n) y’know… sees you as a friend? Can you name a single time where (Y/n) had welcomed your advances with a friendly attitude?”

“Well of- of course, I…” Bokuto’s memories played on 15x speed, searching and scanning each interaction he’d had with (Y/n), forwards and back, just to find a single time (Y/n) had at least said “Good Morning.” A “Hi,” at least. He wracked his brain, but alas, he found nothing. Bokuto’s mouth fell into a small “oh.”

Akaashi averted his eyes pitifully. Konoha didn’t need to say it so brashly, but it was what everyone was thinking. Sarukui nudged Konoha’s shin roughly. “Now look at what you’ve done, it couldn’t've waited until after? Now he’ll be all depressed during practice!”

No one dared to speak after that. Bokuto stood there, like a kicked puppy no one had the guts to help, until Akaashi cleared his throat. “Bokuto-san, if you really want to make a good impression on him, maybe it’s best if you… give him his personal space.”

"Not everyone gravitates towards bright rays of sunshine like you are, Bokuto-san."

Bokuto said nothing for a while. They all either stared at him, waiting for anything from their captain or looking away meekly, not daring to meet his hurt eyes.

“Yeah… yeah, that sounds smart.” Bokuto’s voice was more subdued that it had ever been. He grabbed at his kneepads.

“Bokuto-san-”

“It’s alright! I’m alright, promise! I’m gonna make him like me with this information! Hey hey hey!” Bokuto stormed out the club room before anyone could catch him.

Bokuto never lies. What reason do they have to believe he was? He’ll be fine.

——————

Bokuto Koutarou was not fine.

Bokuto Koutarou was stressing.

Bokuto, for the first time in forever, hadn’t woken up absurdly early to book it (Y/n’s) house, to walk him to school since he lived ‘so close.’ He had fought the urge to sprint all the way to (Y/n’s) just to walk with him. He was really clingy, huh? It’s on the list of things he needs to fix before he could present himself to (Y/n) again.

Well, at least he got like, an hours more of sleep than he usually did. Despite that, Bokuto trudged on his way to school like he had gotten no sleep. Even his hair seemed tired.

Bokuto paused at the entrance to the classroom. He took a deep breath.

He opened the door.

Some people looked to the door on instinct, seeing Bokuto, and expecting him to give his daily “Good Morning, (Y/n)!” It even seemed like (Y/n) was waiting for it. Oh, well, it was probably all in his mind, anyways.

Bokuto walked to his seat, for the first time in forever, silent.

——————

leave me an ask in my inbox if you would like to be tagged part two!

499 notes · View notes

mizunetzu · 2 years

Note

hi do you write for ftm readers?

i do !

#mr mizunetzu

10 notes · View notes

mizunetzu · 2 years

Note

OHMAHGAD UR BACK WELCOMEE

GOOD TO BE BACK ! ! ! i had nothing else to do !

thats a lie im really fucking busy but i wanted to write again ! ! ! !

#mr mizunetzu

8 notes · View notes

mizunetzu · 2 years

Text

Give me really yummy hurt/comfort requests (bnha or hq) because im stuck on my computer with nothing to do for two hours

#i can probably write a whole 1K+ fic in two hours if its a good enough prompt LMFAO #haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu fanfiction #hq x male reader #hq x reader #bnha x male reader #bnha x reader #bnha #mha #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #mr mizunetzu

14 notes · View notes

mizunetzu · 2 years

Text

Remember when I used to be a really cool and popular Bnha/hq x male reader fanfic writer

32 notes · View notes

mizunetzu · 2 years

Text

Hi!

Go follow @mister-mizu for art, non writing spam, informal mr. mizunetzu and more!

#mr mizunetzu

3 notes · View notes

mizunetzu · 2 years

Text

Here's Tetsu! - (Kuroo x reader)

⚠️ Warnings - Yandere Kuroo, mentions of an axe and a box cutter, kuroo breaks down a door with an axe

Pronouns - male, he/him

——————

Out of all the times (Y/n) has visited Kenma’s house, he certainly didn’t expect this one.

Kenma was sitting on his bed, his eyes glued to his small tv screen, when he heard his front door open and slam close hurriedly. He thought nothing of it, probably his mom accidentally slamming the door, so he shrugged it off and went back to his game.

Not even seconds later, footsteps come pounding through his house, growing louder til harsh pounding on his locked door finally drew his eyes away from the screen. He flinched. Whoever was at the door was clearly trying get in.

Kenma almost didn’t answer the door, fearing it was an intruder or something, until he heard sobs rack throughout the door, accompanying its frantic knocks and rattles of the doorknob.

“Kenma-! Kenma please! L-let me—open the door! Please I’m begging you!”

At the sound of the familiar voice, he rushed to unlock his door. He hurriedly unlocked it, hoisting the door up by the doorknob, and closed it. He hated his broken door. Broken door or not, sure enough,(L/n) (Y/n) came tumbling in, scrambling back up to relock Kenma’s door.

Kenma stared at his friend, wondering what to do with the sobbing, shaking man hunched against his door. “Uh...why are you... cryi-“

He was promptly cut off when (Y/n’s) brows furrowed, and he peeled himself off the door to search Kenma’s desk. Kenma stood there awkwardly, watching as his friend threw open his drawers and pulled out miscellaneous items. (Y/n) threw his head back and looked at Kenma with bloodshot eyes.

He held up a sharp-looking pencil. His hand was trembling past shivers and his fingers couldn’t seem to grip the pencil steadily. “Why the fuck don’t you have any scissors, or something useful-!”

“(Y/n), why—what’s happening-“

Small chunks of Kenma’s door went flying. A sharp blade of what seemed to be a small axe was embedded through the outer side of the door, barely peeking in before someone pulled it back out with a huff. (Y/n) tensed, clutching the pencil, and rushed over to a now wide-eyed Kenma.

“Kenma—! Y-you-“ (Y/n) could barely form sentences, having to be steadied by Kenma’s hands as another blow was delt to his door. “You gotta—you gotta help me! Tetsurou’s g-gone crazy and-and he’s-“

“(N/n)~! I know you’re in there!” Kuroo’s voice boomed from the other side of the door. (Y/n) shrieked, steadying the pencil like a knife in his hands. “Why did you have to go to Kenma’s house, huh? We could’ve hung out at my house, all alone, just the two of us!”

“Kenma, please-! Do you have anyth-“

Kenma still couldn’t wrap his mind around anything. Apparently, Kuroo was hacking his way through his door, with (Y/n) trying to arm himself with a pencil to use against Kuroo. Who, might he add, had an axe. Breaking down his door.

It was like something out of a horror manga.

“Kenma!”

Kenma tensed up. (Y/n) was sobbing again, and he only realize that he’d been slapped back into reality when his cheek started to burn. More chunks of Kenma’s door came flying down.

There was a head-sized, jagged hole bore into Kenma’s door now. Kuroo peeked his, rather crazed, face through the tiny hole.

“Heeeeeeeere’s Tetsu!”

(Y/n) shrieked, shamelessly burying himself behind Kenma. Kuroo’s crazed sneer dropped into a harsh glare. Even Kenma shuddered.

“Are you cheating on me, (N/n)?” Kuroo’s pointed glared bore holes into Kenma. A chill rattled his spine, and he instinctively stumbled back best he could with (Y/n) clutching his shoulders. “I thought you loved me.”

“A-I do! I do, I love you so much!” (Y/n) was babbling.

“Then why don’t you come over here, baby?”

He faltered. Kuroo waited patiently for (Y/n) to come over. He didn’t, instead fearfully shrinking behind Kenma even more. Kuroo’s face fell back into a glare. His face disappeared from the hole in the door.

Both Kenma and (Y/n) untensed for a short second. Nothing happened for a few seconds. (Y/n) opened his mouth to say something, until a heave came from the door, along with a sharp THWAK! Against the wood. The two boys yelped.

The axe was embedded into the door. A small sliver of metal peeked through the door. The axe disappeared again, just to come hurdling back against the door, THWAK after THWAK, until the hole was bigger. Kuroo sniggered to himself, reaching through the hole and unlocking the door. Kuroo’s arm was bleeding, scratched up by the jagged edges of the door-hole, but he didn’t seem to notice. That, or he didn’t care. The door lock opened, followed by the doorknob jiggling open. Kenma and (Y/n) stood there, petrified.

Kuroo pushed the mangled door open. He was panting- sprinting after (Y/n) all the way to Kenma’s house and breaking his door must’ve been draining- but nonetheless, he let a wide grin spread across his face. He slicked the damp hair out of his face. “My beautiful, beautiful (N/n)...”

“S-Stay away from me!” (Y/n) and Kenma backed up against the wall. Kuroo huffed.

“It’s not nice to treat your boyfriend like a monster, (N/n)...” Kuroo pouted, bringing the axe up to his fingertips. He ran his finger across the blade. “I’m hurt.”

“You’re fucking insane!”

Kuroo stiffened. “Insane?” (Y/n’s) short-lived burst of bravery simmered out when Kuroo began stalking closer. Both he and Kenma’s legs wouldn’t move from their place against the wall.

Kuroo’s eyes pointed at Kenma, in front of (Y/n), before roughly shoving him to the side. (Y/n) shrieked, being harshly grabbed by the shoulders.

“Why are you being so mean to me!?” Kuroo pushed (Y/n) up against the wall. He grunted. “Don’t you love me!? Or are you off fucking Kenma now!? Huh!?” The irrationality of Kuroo’s thoughts paved way for Kenma to throw himself into his nightstand drawer, and dig out a small box cutter. Kenma pushed open the box cutter and shakily pointed it toward Kuroo and (Y/n).

“L-let him go right now!” That was the loudest Kenma’s voice had ever been in a while. “Or i’ll- i’ll fucking shank you!”

“Now where’d you get that potty mouth from, Kenma?” Kuroo said. You almost could’ve missed the little sweat droplet slide down his temple. And it wasn’t from knocking the door down. “C’mon, put the cutter do-” “Let go! I-I’m not bluffing!” Kenma squawked. He stepped and held the cutter towards Kuroo, like pointing a gun towards him.

“Woah- hey- okay put the box cutter down-”

Kenma began walking towared the two. Kuroo dropped both (Y/n) and the axe and held his hands up, chuckling nervously. “Kenma- it was just a jo-”

Kenma strutted towards Kuroo with the cutter. He was bluffing. Kuroo’s scared now, he’d find a window of opportunity for (Y/n) to escape and then he’d escape! Yeah! He grabbed Kuroo by the collar. “Kenma! Kenma oh my-! KENMA IT WAS A JOKE IT WAS A PRANK-!”

(Y/n) grabbed Kenma by under the armpits and dragged his back.

(Y/n)?

- pulled him back?

…

Prank?

He heard exhausted giggling from behind him. Kuroo’s insane look was replaced with his usual, non-insase grin. He, too, began laughing. Kenma stood there, confused.

“Gotcha ass.” Kuroo grinned. Kenma furrowed his eyebrows. “You..”

“You call breaking my fucking door down with an AXE a fucking PRANK!?”

“Hey! In my defense your mom called me up saying to get rid of your door because she was gonna replace it! Plus- it’s fucking revenge for Ramen Shop!”

Kenma remembered why his mom went out of the house in the first place. ‘I’m going to Ikea, be good Kenma.’ She had said. His door didn’t fit in the frame correctly, and every time he wanted to open it, he had to quite literally lift up the door by the doorknob to turn it. And ‘Ramen Shop’ was a prank Kenma had pulled on Kuroo, where he had gotten the manager of his local Ramen place to lock Kuroo in his shop overnight. By the time Kuroo had gotten out of the building, and to school, Kenma had, also, gotten the volleyball team to pretend he was dead.

Kenma giggled quietly, sinking back into (Y/n’s) grip. “Ramen Shop was funny…”

“No it wasn’t! You got everyone to gaslight me into believing I died at Kyushu Ramen!”

“It was kind of funny, Tetsu.” (Y/n) snickered. Kuroo pouted.

“Now,” Kenma slid onto the ground. “I’m fucking exhausted. You guys gave me a heart attack, jesus christ..”

“Clean up the mess you made, Kuro. (Y/n).” Kenma mumbled. He gestured towards his mangled door with his foot. “And there’s a first aid kit in the bathroom.” Kenma also nudged at Kuroo, who seemed to have forgotten about his scratched up arm through all the adrenaline. Now that he was wearing down from the high, his arm was starting to throb.

“Oh… yeah, ow.”

——————

#haikyuu x male reader #yandere kuroo #kuroo x male reader #hq x male reader #haikyuu!!#hq x reader #hq kenma #haikyuu kuroo #yandere hq #haikyuu fanfiction #kenma kozume #kuroo tetsuro

255 notes · View notes