#also with butterfly effect i think . it's cheesy and dramatic but it might actually be my favorite thing i've ever written

[wackatoshi]

diner dynamics

futakuchi kenji x f!reader | prompt source

summary: one diner, two coworkers, and a hell of a lot of chemistry. 

It all begins in the kitchen of the diner, one simple introduction on your first day. 

“Kenji Futakuchi,” the tall brunette says, with a devilish charm that rolls off his tongue a little too easily.

You exchange looks for a split second longer than necessary, his eyes sparkling with keen interest, lips curling into a sly grin. It only takes one look, but you already know –

This is going to be a disaster. 

+

Two weeks later, the job begins to feel like a steady routine. 

“Two vanilla milkshakes, cheesy fries to share, and two classic burgers?” 

The air is slick with unbearable humidity, and you’re just about ready to rip off your apron and walk into the ocean. Thankfully, the young couple you serve offer no complaints about the dingy diner’s lack of air conditioning. 

They nod.

“Okay, and–”

Kenji stops by your table wearing a cunning look, leaning in a little too close beside you. He sends a charming smile to your customers. 

“Listen,” he sighs, dramatically, “she’s new here.”

You scowl. “Do you mind–”

“–so if your service is less than satisfactory–”

“–do not talk to my customers, Kenji–”

“–then I’m just a table away, okay?”

He winks at you, before sauntering away. Your face twitches with irritation, only magnified by the evident amusement of your customers.

“Can I get you anything else?”

“That’s all, thanks.”

You collect the menus, pointedly ignoring their stifled smiles.

Damn it, Kenji, damn you for getting on every last one of my nerves, I’m going to strangle you, I’m going to–

The next time you pass by him, he’s serving a table of doe-eyed teenage girls. You send him a nice whack on the head, enough to throw his bangs into an awkward little heap that he rushes to fix, cursing your name under his breath.

Sometimes, this friction is a little too satisfying than it should be.

+

Wednesday mornings, eleven o’clock. It’s a quiet time of day, and most of the customers are from the local retirement village, coming in to claim their pensioner’s deal.

You’re sitting in the booth with one of your favourites – an elderly woman, wise and understanding, who orders a black coffee and berry pancakes every time she comes. 

There’s a soft tinkling of the stirring spoon against the cup as she asks you about college, exams, and the future. You answer her questions, gaze fixed on the tall, scruffy-haired blonde boy at the counter, waving his arms around with enthusiasm as he talks to Kenji.

The exasperated brunette senses your gaze, and sends you a desperate look.

“Help me,” he mouths.

You pout back at him with faux pity.

The old woman glances back to see the focus of your attention, and smiles to herself.

“When are you going to put that boy out of his misery?”

You raise your brows in confusion as she sips her coffee. 

“His misery?” you laugh. “He’s the one putting me in misery.“

Another sip. There’s amusement in her eyes.

“Oh, he likes you for sure.”

Your face drops. 

“No way,” you choke out, as respectfully as possible. “There’s absolutely nothing there.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” she replies, coyly.

You don’t know what she means.

Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

+

Koganegawa, you remember, visits on a fairly regular basis to aggravate his senpai. 

Kenji loiters at the cutlery stand, listening to the boy ramble about the weight of his world. You try not to listen, slipping between them as you rummage for forks and spoons for Table 12.

“It’s like, yeah, it’s not my favourite colour, but I don’t wanna like, be mean about it,” the blonde explains, pushing back his brown fringe. “But she was so excited and stuff, I couldn’t just...”

Kenji’s attention is elsewhere. He casually stretches an arm out over the table, managing to block you just enough so you can’t reach for the spoons without first brushing against him.

His kouhai continues rambling, with animated enthusiasm, blissfully unaware of his surroundings. You narrow your eyes at Kenji, who takes a deliberate few moments of gazing around before meeting your look. 

He smiles, and for some reason, your pulse quickens.

“Move.”

“Make me.”

You peel his arm off the counter, and for added effect, lean all over him to reach for the napkins above his head. It’s a split second motion, but he tenses, swallowing tightly as your breath fans over his neck.

You step back and give him a pleasant little grin. He blinks, dazed.

Two can play this game.

“...so like, I just want to make it up to her, but also I don’t wanna...are you listening to me, Futakuchi?”

Kenji snaps back to the blonde, eyes distracted. “Hm? Yes.”

You return to Table 12 with polite apologies for the wait, but your mind replays Kenji’s face over and over again. 

Maybe, you think, there’s something there after all.

+

One night, you stay back late with your manager, chatting about your hobbies, work, and the bane of your existence, Kenji Futakuchi. 

“You know, the only reason our sales have boosted is because of you guys,” your manager says, her voice floating from the other side of the kitchen.

You balance a handful of plates in your arms, topped with a stack of dirty cutlery.

“You can just say me,” you say with a wry smile, “Kenji’s not here.”

She laughs, shaking her head.

“Listen, he does the bare minimum,” you whine. 

“I actually think he’s got a lot more work ethic now than he used to.”

“Ugh, why does everyone like him so much?”

“Oh, but that’s the thing,” she says, and there’s something teasing in her voice, “it’s not just him they like.”

You drop the plates into the sink, twisting the tap on, watching the hot water surge down. As the steam billows upwards, you grab a sponge and get to scrubbing.

“People love seeing you flirt with each other,” she deadpans.

A fork slips from your fingers, clattering into the sink. You clamp your teeth down on your bottom lip, knowing that if you turn around right now, she’ll be looking at you with that smug smile that you just can’t stand sometimes.

“We do not -”

“Flirt, bicker, argue, yada yada,” she scoffs, waving off your protests. “I know when it’s one and the same.”

You snort.

“You’re a...dynamic duo,” she pronounces, with a dramatic flair. 

“Oh yeah, because our teamwork is just exemplary,” you settle on, rolling your eyes.

She hums in response, busying herself with something else to do. 

It’s only when she leaves, the click of her shoes on the tiles fading into silence, that you allow yourself to stop, breathe, and sort out the butterflies that flutter in your stomach. 

+

Two nights later, you’re wiping down tables when Kenji asks,

“What are you doing later?”

The question takes you by surprise. You throw him a disinterested look. He leans against the wall with his arms folded, doing nothing helpful, as usual.

“Finishing my literature essay,” you reply. What that really means is: Eating ice cream. Crying. Not doing the literature essay.

“Not anymore,” he says. “I need a couple hands to stay back tonight for lock-up. You in?”

You sigh. “Fine.”

“Sweet.”

+

The so-called other hands that Kenji had asked to help out conveniently bail at the last minute.

“Looks like it’s just us,” he’d sighed wistfully, handing you a broom.

Two hours later, the store is in immaculate condition. You stifle a yawn into your hand. Across the diner, Futakuchi yanks a black cloth off an abandoned jukebox, then coughs and splutters in the dust.

“Kenji,” you call, “what are you doing?”

“Just wanted to see if this thing works.”

He swats at the hazy air, pulling his shirt up to cover his nose. You watch him fiddle with the machine for a few moments until it roars to life, electric colours lighting up like an amusement park. 

He makes a sound of victory, smacking its side, and slots in a few coins. Soon, the brash and jarring sound of music fills the room.

Kenji extends a chivalrous hand to you, and he might even pass as a gentleman if you didn’t know him better. “A dance, my lady?”

“You’re ridiculous,” you scoff.

“What? Got two left feet?” 

There’s a teasing lilt in his voice, and a challenge in his eyes. In spite of your better judgment warning you against it, you just can’t resist any opportunity to prove Kenji wrong. 

So you oblige, letting him take your hands, his long fingers wrapping around yours. He slips a hand on your waist, and you let him lead the way. It’s silly, simple, and sometimes clumsy as he tries to twirl you to the beat of the music, mingled with your shy laughs and harmless insults. 

There’s an addictive warmth that seeps into your skin from his touch, flowing through your bloodstream and reaching every single part of you. You gaze over at his fingers, clutching yours a little too tightly, and down at the hand on your waist that hovers, almost too scared to touch you. 

You smirk. “You’d think you were the one who didn't know how to dance.”

“A bold assumption.”

You glance up at him with a playful smile. “Then why are your hands shaking, Futakuchi?”

He swallows, stiffening. 

“Maybe,” he says, “maybe because I want to do something that I shouldn’t.”

The music hums along in the background, and in the low light of this rundown diner, you think he might be more handsome than you first gave him credit for. Especially when he’s looking at you like this, sharp eyes dark and captivating.

“And what might that be?”

He lets his eyes linger down to your lips in a slow and deliberate action. “Maybe we should find out.”

The next thing you know, he’s kissing you with fervent passion, and all the guards you’ve put up fall and burn around you. He traces fire over your lips, one hand tight around your waist, the other clasped around your cheek, fingers skimming over your skin.

It ends all too quickly, as the final beat of the song dissipates into the night, leaving you with nothing but the echo of your racing hearts and the static of the blinking ceiling lights.

“Well,” he breathes, “I’ve been waiting a hot minute to do that.”

+

The next day, you’re working another sweltering afternoon shift, and your skin is sticky with sweat, baby hairs matted to your forehead. 

Another one of Futakuchi’s friends enters the diner, slapping him on the back with the kind of aggression that screams senpai. You can’t help your small smirk as his face transforms into an irritated scowl.

You watch them slide into one of the booths together, and even though Kenji’s working, and it’s peak hour in here, the twinge of annoyance doesn’t bother you so much. 

You’re balancing three empty plates on your arm when you overhear a snippet of their conversation.

“So, Kenji, how are things going?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know, with...” the older boy leans forwards, dropping his voice to a cryptic whisper, “Aki.”

“Oh,” Kenji says, leaning back in his seat. “Fine.”

“Come on,” his friend chuckles, clasping his hands together. “Don’t be shy. I’m very experienced in giving relationship advice.”

“I don’t need any of that.”

“Hey, it’s cool. Girlfriends are tricky, right?”

You stop in your tracks, and a fork clatters off your plate, hitting the ground with a noisy clang. The boys jump, turning to look at you. You squat down quickly to pick it up, avoiding their eyes, and make a beeline for the kitchen.  

You dump the dishes in the sink, and brace your clenched fingers on the edge of counter, taking in slow breaths. There’s nothing but a nauseating rush of disgust seeping through your body, and flaming anger setting your nerves alight. 

+

Kenji might be flippant, but he’s observant. Observant enough that your cold shoulder doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

He tosses a damp towel on the table, and sends you a sharp look. “So, you wanna tell me what’s up?”

You avoid his gaze, studying the plate in your hand with sudden interest.

“There’s nothing to say,” you say, with a shrug. 

He narrows his eyes. “You’ve been avoiding me all week.”

“Could you find me someone to mop in here, please?” you deflect, turning around to stack the plate in the cupboard. 

He lets out a low, frustrated breath, shaking his head. “Look, I know you’re hiding–”

“Kenji, just drop it, okay?” you snap, whirling around at him. “Just drop it.”

He stares at you, mouth open with a snarky comment dancing on the tip of his tongue. He bites it back at the last second, clenching his jaw as he looks away. 

“Fine. If that’s what you want.”

And to be honest, you’re not really sure what you want anymore. 

+

Three days later, the tension culminates to its boiling point, right here in the kitchen, where it all started. 

“Let’s hear it,” Kenji says. “I’m sick of you ignoring me all of a sudden. I’m tired of this game.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you say, tone clipped. “Could you start on the mopping, please? I want to be out of here by six.”

“Stop it,” he growls. “Stop pretending like everything’s fine. Why are you so mad at me? Is it because we kissed?”

You freeze. “No.”

“Really? Because you seem to be especially icy ever since that happened.”

“Why would it affect me? It didn’t mean anything.”

He blinks from the impact of your stinging words. 

“Huh,” he exhales, and it’s a quiet, defeated thing, tinged with underlying bitterness. 

You bite down on your lip. It’s his fault, anyway.

“I need–” you start, but it comes out strangled. “I need someone to start stacking the chairs.”

“Did you mean that?” he asks, his tone softer than usual.

You glance at him with surprise. Kenji takes a step towards you, then another, and another.

“Mean what?”

“That it didn’t mean anything to you.”

“I just–I don’t want to talk about it.”

He’s getting closer.

“Why?”

“The mopping,” you remind him, through gritted teeth. “Can you please start on the mopping?”

And now, he’s inches away from you, sharp eyes pinning you down as you back up against the sink.

“Anything else you want me to do, while we’re here?”

You release a quiet breath, staring up at him. He swallows tightly, and braces a hand on the sink counter behind you. 

You stiffen.

"Kenji,” you breathe, watching his eyes with caution.

He looks down at you through heavily-lidded eyes, and mimics the warning tone of your voice, letting your name roll off his tongue in an utterly sinful way. 

“Kenji,” you repeat, firmer. 

“What?”

“We can’t...we can’t,” you say, slowly, “not like this.”

His eyes flicker with hurt. “Why?”

“Because you’re in a relationship!” you hiss. “What, did you just forget that?”

He blinks. “In a what?”

“You and...and Aki.”

“Aki?” he repeats, lighting up with amusement. “What about her?”

You flush. “I heard you guys were...together,” you explain. “That day, when your friend came and had lunch here.”

“Oh,” he sounds out with a slow nod, and there’s a cocky smugness spreading over his face. “Were you jealous?”

“No,” you bite out. “I felt sorry for her, if anything.”

He laughs. “You should. She’s happily dating one of my juniors now, courtesy of me. Koganegawa, remember him?”

Oh.

“They’re a great match,” he says, and throws you a playful wink, “we should meet up with them someday.”

All of a sudden, this close proximity feels less nauseating and all too alluring. His eyes flicker down to your lips. 

“Now, where was I?” he murmurs.

“Right where I wanted you,” you whisper, and clutch his shirt, tugging him closer and crashing your lips against his. 

He makes a small sound of surprise from the back of his throat, but in a matter of seconds, he’s enjoying this almost too much for his own good. His hands snake around your waist like he’s never going to let you go, mouth moving effortlessly in sync with your own.

You pull back first, and your lips lift into a smug smirk at the way his eyes are still closed, the way he still leans in.

What a simp, you think.

His eyes flutter open, attention settling on you with shameless desire.

“Huh,” he mumbles, his voice raspy. “I always knew you were into me.”

You narrow your eyes. “Honestly, I am so sick of you.”

He grins, tugs you closer, the tufts of his fringe brushing against your forehead. 

“Just you watch,” he taunts, “I’m about to make you totally love-sick for me.”

“Oh, game on, Kenji, game on.”

#the song they dance to is Cry To Me by Solomon Burke bc i Love it #or Unchained Melody lmAO #vitagucci content for u all #futakuchi kenji #futakuchi kenji x reader #kenji futakuchi #kenji futakuchi x reader #futakuchi x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! #futakuchi imagine #haikyuu imagines #dateko #IM SUCH A SIMP FOR THIS MAN #JUST TAKE IT

[horrorfilmadddict]

Anyway, here I am really bothering you and not leaving you alone, aren’t I?

I wrote you this letter from the bottom of my heart. I hope you have the patience to read it, sorry it’s long. Anyway I hope you look back on this letter and know my intent was pure and with love. Tell you what I really feel. What my heart tells me.

Dear Sue,

I write you because hell, might as well put my thoughts to “paper”. No one knows about this page except you.

Sooooo when it comes to us, or just women, the way it goes after you get dumped or put down is

I shouldn’t care anymore, right?

I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable if you have moved on from me. It’s just you have to empathize with me. My heart was ripped out of me.

I wonder how you’re doing, do you miss me as much as I miss you. Do you still think about us, the butterflies, Do you still want me as your man, haha stupid questions I know. Ive been getting by with henny and romantic comedies haha but hey again the whole us blowing up was my fault. I do hope you’re doing ok mentally, spiritually, emotionally. Truly I do wish for your well being. I’m just relieved I didn’t break your heart, again, better me than you.

I miss my dream catcher, it hurt like hell giving it back and the Disney tickets. I didn’t do it to hurt you, just spare myself of seeing them and thinking of you. You once or maybe several times, told me you always think of me. And now You really do cross my mind a thousand times. But anywho I hope my t shirts get put to use btw not as cloth rags 😂😅, along with my hoodie. Better uses than my birthday gifts, little mike, red bag and all, pennywise, alll in the back of a car, hidden in shame or just not treated kindly in my opinion.

I feel what drove you to end us was me not paying attention to the anger issues. Me, making excuses would say, you should’ve sat me down and stressed the danger of pushing you away, causing you to do some fucked up shit. But I was dealt Karma. I am a hypocrite to complain, since I did the same to you but I hope the caring you will see what massive effect your decisions made.

I also see that you dealt with a lot of internal conflict, feeling like I’d only want to change when you’d be leaving. I didn’t mean to make it seem like you were stuck in a bad never ending circle, i did make it feel that way, nothing hurts more to see someone you love do that to you. Again another mistake on my part of not realizing you were leaving, hurtin due to that type of attitude and behavior that came from me.

You are such a big positive force in my life. You are. Which is why I made bucca a big deal, I know it was extremely unfair since it was my fault we couldn’t hang long but thinking back you probably didn’t say yes to being my girl because you already were someone else’s, that kills me, that’s why I felt so betrayed by you. I mean I was in shock, just thinking why would you do this to me, pretty traumatizing. I feel your emotionally unavailable stuff was all a fat lie. It’s killing me inside why you didn’t just sit me down like a human being and talk to me.

Nonetheless you’re a special beautiful woman that I love for her smile, her jokes, her dorkiness, ability to no matter what is going on, be worried about me, how I was doing, feeling, no matter what troubles you were going thru. One of my favorite things about you is your ability to sing, that truly melted me, the idea of riding in the car with you and singing, expressing ourselves through music. I really did drop the ball with you, I have to live with that, the reason why I’ll hold on to you for as long as I can is because of what you mean to me now. However I do know Eventually emotions fade and memories with them so eventually we will truly fade away. If you haven’t already.

But still this was out of left field. You are a sweet heart and I think you already know that. You’re ability to stand by ppl you love, obviously not me 😅but the way you stand by Ana as her support even if she doesn’t match your love for her, she does love you and I pray she does come around because man she’d take a fat L losing you, or with Emily, the way you spend quality time with her as your friend. Little things that have big meaning and are easily overlooked. But yet you find ways to make ppl feel special before yourself.

You are an amazing, beautiful woman and I mean it. The sooner you see it, the sooner it will help you feel like you should be happy to be who you are.

Ever since that day I have been at a loss for words. You’d probably say it’s dramatic but I’m living with a void in me. What happened? When did I lose you, I guess that’s the point of feelings huh, you don’t see them coming. I had no chance to fight for you this last time. In a way I hope the time away from me, really really clears your mind and heart so you can see if you really did love me, and maybe you have a good good explanation for yourself as to why you did what you did even though not two weeks before had you said “ i hope you still love me” “te amo”. You can lie to me. But not yourself. For me as much as it hurts to think of you not choosing me, that’s what happened. And if hes what you truly want, I can live with that.

I often think about all the times I’d ask you are you sure you still want this. And I break down mentally just trying to find out why you’d say yes but then play me. Don’t get me wrong It was a lot of work to work on us with me however I feel I was on the verge of getting that down, like I understand it was far from perfect but did I make you feel loved I wonder. Probably fucked up too much for you to say yes.

I was only about you whether I was upset or not. I thought I was mending all that tbh. Somewhere along the way your words really had me thinking I was loved like I never have been but your heart was wanting another at the same time. Haha I’m all worked up because of what I thought I meant in your eyes. It really was like hey you’re enough and I want this to work. And so I took ALL you said to me to heart. Which made the heartbreak that much more painful, I’m glad I didn’t do that to you because, the guilt would kill me, what I did with Daria and you still does. I still have the crying clip of you, after I left bby.

I wish you’d talk to me about it, I really do, for you to just show respect for what was there, for your words of I love you, cariño, Habibi, that you said to me. Honor their memory just give me true closure. I can leave you alone, never speak to you again. Drop off a map and disappear you’d literally never hear from me again if that’s what you really prefer. But if not and communicating was an option, I’d want to know where I lost you. If it makes you feel a tad better I feel once it sinks in that you are gone, and the emotions and memories fade, I will truly leave, disappear to become an insignificant memory by my own action just to give you peace, ya know. Do right by you for once.

But for as long as the emotions and memories last in your heart I’ll take pride and hope the sunflower really sticks, it’s a symbol, a memory. Every time the song comes out I do think about you, makes me wish I was miles and youd be my white girl, mi hermosa guerita. Sounds juvenile but I really was excited to teach you more Spanish for when you’d meet my family. How sweet, a thought. Those are priceless. Hope the song brings you positivity on your path. You’ll go far with make up and doing hair. I still think youd make a great YouTube horror movie channel host.

I do love you, make no mistake about that. I will for as long as that fire burns.

As cheesy as it is, you made me feel like the hero or the lucky guy who gets the girl like miles here. I believe in my heart I coulda done amazing by you, I know a version of me has to be out there In an alternate reality where my dumbass got things right, fuck this sucks, for me of course lmao 😂 you do seem to be doing fine and I’m thankful that you’re loved and still loving someone, it’s a special gift. Just make sure you never use I love you carelessly like with me.

If I had the chance to do it over again I would, never hurt you and let your love complete me, help me feel not alone.

Ps: the app shows my edit in a better way

You changed my life for the better by showing me what a woman is capable of, what you bring to those you love. But I’d be lying if I didn’t say my guard is fully up yet again and I’m afraid haha afraid to let anyone, ANYONE in. I thought I was safe with you...

You’re with me in my heart. lol kinda sounds like Tarzan huh

Well uhhh gtg 👋🏽

*g lock handshake

I really am sad and sorry we just ended the way we did, no talking, no hugs, no last kiss. I miss you Habibi, I do. You were my Disney princess. 🌻

Well with that long ass letter, I leave you here. Probably, it seems for good , soon I’ll delete my social media and I’ve already started looking for another job. So while my heart will be spoken for as long as it chooses you, I won’t be around anymore, too painful and this is the first time I’ve had my heart broken, like truly.

So,

Kenzy Sue Schumacher

ich liebe dich

Quizás en otra vida

Love,

Your cariño

Ps: Someone actually read the entire thing and liked it lol hashtags huh

#journal #letting go #venting #reflecting