#char.🌧 kuroo

[petrichorium]

“finally warming up?”

“mmm. a little.”

“only a little?”

“yeah. you should keep holding me, just to make sure.”

“hah! only if i have to.”

absolutely jaw-dropping commission of me and Tetsuro I got back in I think April??? by @/tsuumei who genuinely blew me away when I got this lil experimental work 🫶🏻

[petrichorium]

Ur not the first person to send it but alas no 💔

kuroo tetsurou, a Shy Guy in his youth,, boy

[pluviophile-imagines]

Kuroo gets cute aggression specifically when u do/say cheesy romantic things or kiss him out of the blue bc it’s usually him doing that stuff to you so when u turn the tables he just short circuits. Standing there in shock beet red and his mind is like “bite them. Now. Fucking grab them around the waist and throw them into the couch do it”

[petrichorium]

Kuroo as ur coworker who u don’t rlly interact with (like ur in different departments like barely even coworkers you’ve never spoken a word to him) but he’s cute and tall and has a goofy laugh so u decide to have a low-effort crush on him to amuse urself and ur work besties at lunch without there being any real risk………

Until he starts hovering near your desk and chatting you up when you go to linger at the coffee pot and you realize, to your chagrin, that he has most definitely caught wind of your “crush”

[petrichorium]

Cutest man in the world award recipient 🫠

[pluviophile-imagines]

Mr “I know the full name of an omega-3 fatty acid and will drop it in a casual conversation just to sound smart” 💀💀💀

when i remember it was kuroo who got the sex god reputation i lose my fucking mind

[petrichorium]

it’s long past sundown when you and tetsurou return to his apartment. your legs are aching; the shoes you wear are one of your most comfortable pairs, but there’s little that shoe choice can do when you’re on your feet for the whole day.

a pair of hands comes to your shoulders to help you out of the coat you’re wearing, and you help them along happily, grateful for the assist. the moment your arms are freed you let out an exaggerated sigh, heels clicking on the hardwood as you dart for the couch and then throw yourself onto it. from the door, where he’s shrugging off his own coat, your boyfriend snickers.

“take off your shoes at least, you heathen.”

lifting your head just enough to see him over the arm of the couch, you pout and lift a foot. “you try taking these things off. do you see how many straps there are?”

he bends to undo his own dress shoes. “why did you wear them, then?”

“they’re comfortable.” you let your head fall back again, into the pile of pillows covered in black cat hair and smelling wonderfully of tetsurou. your eyes flutter closed as you sigh. “and they look nice. the straps are for show.”

just as your leg is beginning to get tired and you’re about to let it fall back to the couch, a big hand catches the ankle. you startle a little, eyes flying open again to find that tetsurou has approached the couch. his grip wraps around your ankle as he lifts your leg up a little further, his other hand coming up to begin dealing with the many straps you’d just complained about.

“what are you doing?” there’s laughter in your voice, a little breathy—in the barely lit apartment he strikes a handsome silhouette standing above you like this, tall and broad-shouldered, with the removal of his suit jacket revealing a crisp white button-up that fits him well. his hand is warm even through the stockings you’re wearing.

“you asked me to take them off,” he responds easily.

long, lithe fingers deftly undo each one. the shoe loosens upon your foot until tetsurou can remove it entirely, grey eyes staring down at where you lay propped up on your elbows. he sets it down carefully on the arm of the couch, but keeps his grip on your foot steadfast.

“i was being rhetorical.”

“just let me spoil you.” his thumb is rubbing circles into your ankle as he grins down at you.

“by taking off my heels?”

“mm-hmm.” he bends down, quick as a flash, to peck at your stocking-clad leg, lips pressing there-and-gone against your shin just above your ankle. and then he eases your leg down, just slightly, before guiding it and the rest of your body to turn as he steps around the couch to face you. “i’m being a gentleman.”

“who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend?”

pausing in his movement, he raises an eyebrow. “you don’t like it?”

“never said that.” you rush to sit up and he lets go of your foot to let you.

moments later, however, he surprises you by sinking to his knees. the motion makes you gasp under your breath; a noise you’re not entirely sure he hears, not when he’s busying himself with your remaining shoe.

you can feel the heat of him now, with how close you are. on instinct you reach out to lace your fingers in his messy hair, and he lets out a quiet, content little noise in acknowledgement, almost subconsciously pressing back into your touch.

the second heel is off faster. he places it next to its twin, rising up and reaching out with that huge wingspan, though his hand still doesn’t leave your newly bare foot. it pinches at the hosiery covering your skin, pulling the mesh fabric off just enough for you to feel it. you expect him to get up; join you on the couch, or perhaps lead you back to the bedroom to get ready for bed. instead, he shuffles up closer—still on the floor, hand still at your ankle—and bends down to press a kiss just above your knee, right beneath the hem of your dress, and then lays his head in your lap.

he sighs a little. you feel his hand tracing up your leg until his fingers catch the crook of your knee, thumb coming around to rub at the other side through your stocking.

“‘m so tired,” he all but groans into the fabric of your dress, and you give a quiet laugh. “don’t laugh, i’m serious, we saw too many people today. if i have to interact with another person in the next forty-eight hours i might have a breakdown.”

“and whose fault is that, hm? whose friends were they?”

at your teasing voice, he lifts his gaze to pout up at you through his lashes.

you laugh again, reaching down and pressing your palms to his cheeks, tilting his head further up towards you so that you can lean down and peck his nose.

“does your social interaction ban include me?”

that pout deepens. he pulls away from your hold to bury his face in your lap again, hand trailing up your thigh and then over to wrap his arm around your legs so securely you can barely move them. when he speaks, the three simple words are again muffled by the fabric of your dress, and they make warmth bloom in your chest.

“no,” is what he says, soft and small and stern, “you stay.”

and that’s all.

[petrichorium]

Kuroo talks a big game but I think once he catches real feelings and ur flirting for real he gets just. Absolutely, debilitatingly flustered by anything you do.

Call him handsome and he’s bright red and stuttering. Shoot him a smile while you pass by him and he’s pouring coffee over his hand and dropping the mug in shock. Heaven forbid you touch him, or kiss his cheek, because he’s absolutely blue screening and unable to move or talk or even think for the next fifteen minutes.

[pluviophile-imagines]

It’s long past sundown when you and Tetsurou return to his apartment. Your legs are aching; the shoes you wear are one of your most comfortable pairs, but there’s little that shoe choice can do when you’re on your feet for the whole day.

A pair of hands comes to your shoulders to help you out of the coat you’re wearing, and you help them along happily, grateful for the assist. The moment your arms are freed you let out an exaggerated sigh, heels clicking on the hardwood as you dart for the couch and then throw yourself onto it. From the door, where he’s shrugging off his own coat, your boyfriend snickers.

“Take off your shoes at least, you heathen.”

Lifting your head just enough to see him over the arm of the couch, you pout and lift a foot. “You try taking these things off. Do you see how many straps there are?”

He bends to undo his own dress shoes. “Why did you wear them, then?”

“They’re comfortable.” You let your head fall back again, into the pile of pillows covered in black cat hair and smelling wonderfully of Tetsurou. Your eyes flutter closed as you sigh. “And they look nice. The straps are for show.”

Just as your leg is beginning to get tired and you’re about to let it fall back to the couch, a big hand catches the ankle. You startle a little, eyes flying open again to find that Tetsurou has approached the couch. His grip wraps around your ankle as he lifts your leg up a little further, his other hand coming up to begin dealing with the many straps you’d just complained about.

“What are you doing?” There’s laughter in your voice, a little breathy—in the barely lit apartment he strikes a handsome silhouette standing above you like this, tall and broad-shouldered, with the removal of his suit jacket revealing a crisp white button-up that fits him well. His hand is warm even through the stockings you’re wearing.

“You asked me to take them off,” he responds easily.

Long, lithe fingers deftly undo each one. The shoe loosens upon your foot until Tetsurou can remove it entirely, grey eyes staring down at where you lay propped up on your elbows. He sets it down carefully on the arm of the couch, but keeps his grip on your foot steadfast.

“I was being rhetorical.”

“Just let me spoil you.” His thumb is rubbing circles into your ankle as he grins down at you.

“By taking off my heels?”

“Mm-hmm.” He bends down, quick as a flash, to peck at your stocking-clad leg, lips pressing there-and-gone against your shin just above your ankle. And then he eases your leg down, just slightly, before guiding it and the rest of your body to turn as he steps around the couch to face you. “I’m being a gentleman.”

“Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend?”

Pausing in his movement, he raises an eyebrow. “You don’t like it?”

“Never said that.” You rush to sit up and he lets go of your foot to let you.

Moments later, however, he surprises you by sinking to his knees. The motion makes you gasp under your breath; a noise you’re not entirely sure he hears, not when he’s busying himself with your remaining shoe.

You can feel the heat of him now, with how close you are. On instinct you reach out to lace your fingers in his messy hair, and he lets out a quiet, content little noise in acknowledgement, almost subconsciously pressing back into your touch.

The second heel is off faster. He places it next to its twin, rising up and reaching out with that huge wingspan, though his hand still doesn’t leave your newly bare foot. It pinches at the hosiery covering your skin, pulling the mesh fabric off just enough for you to feel it. You expect him to get up; join you on the couch, or perhaps lead you back to the bedroom to get ready for bed. Instead, he shuffles up closer—still on the floor, hand still at your ankle—and bends down to press a kiss just above your knee, right beneath the hem of your dress, and then lays his head in your lap.

He sighs a little. You feel his hand tracing up your leg until his fingers catch the crook of your knee, thumb coming around to rub at the other side through your stocking.

“‘M so tired,” he all but groans into the fabric of your dress, and you give a quiet laugh. “Don’t laugh, I’m serious, we saw too many people today. If I have to interact with another person in the next forty-eight hours I might have a breakdown.”

“And whose fault is that, hm? Whose friends were they?”

At your teasing voice, he lifts his gaze to pout up at you through his lashes.

You laugh again, reaching down and pressing your palms to his cheeks, tilting his head further up towards you so that you can lean down and peck his nose.

“Does your social interaction ban include me?”

That pout deepens. He pulls away from your hold to bury his face in your lap again, hand trailing up your thigh and then over to wrap his arm around your legs so securely you can barely move them. When it speaks, the words are one again muffled by the fabric of your dress, and they make warmth bloom in your chest.

“Absolutely not. If I couldn’t be around you I think I’d die. You restore me.”

[pluviophile-imagines]

He’s got like 15 cats and the chat has memorized them all n when one appears they spam their names,,,,,

kodzuken has a live cam in the corner of all his streams of his cat tower. yes;;;;;;; I be in the chat like BIG STRETCH

[pluviophile-imagines]

your first date with kuroo tetsuro has turned out to be a certifiable disaster.

you’d never have pegged yourself as an office romance type but it’s difficult not to fall for his horrible laughter and easy teasing. he asks you out after months of mild flirting and your coworkers quietly pushing you together. you agree readily, feeling that it’s perhaps a bit overdue but aware that he’s less confident than he tends to let on.

of course, the disaster comes in when he decides that your interest in him means you expect him to be some rich, suave ceo type. he picks you up in a car that drives too fast for your comfort, takes you to an expensive restaurant that you are far too underdressed for, flaunts his friendships with the men on the teams playing at the volleyball game he’s gotten the two of you tickets for. as the evening goes on it becomes more and more unbearable, and you find yourself yearning for the slightly awkward yet charmingly dorky man you’d agreed to go out with.

it’s a bit of a relief, therefore, that you end up here. he’d offered to introduce you to some of the players and, more in a vain attempt to spend more time with him (because despite how he’s been acting you really do like him) than any concrete interest, you’d agreed. somewhere along the line he’d been roped into a pickup game. now you’re sat on the sidelines with a couple of merch-clad fans who you don’t remember the names of watching your date dive for volleyballs and it’s admittedly the most fun you’ve had all night.

firstly because he’s clearly having fun, and you’re not too put off to admit that it makes you happy to see him like this. his genuine passion for volleyball was one of the things that you found charming in the first place, and it’s particularly sweet to see how much he lights up with every block and spike. it’s not your first time seeing him play—lord knows you became a regular at the company team’s practices just to see him more—yet you’re impressed by how well he’s holding his own even against professionals, and…

well, secondly, it’s a certain kind of attractive to watch a man in a well-tailored suit playing his heart out. you don’t even bother to hide the way you’re biting your lip and ogling his forearms so prominently displayed with his sleeves rolled up like that. his ass looks nice, too, now that it isn’t covered by the jacket currently draped over your shoulders.

it comes to an end too soon; they’d only gone a few rounds. kuroo approaches you with a wide grin on his face and helps you to your feet with a big hand around yours.

“sorry ‘bout that,” he says breathlessly, cheeks still flush from exertion. “thanks for sticking around.”

before you can respond his friends call out in goodbye, and he looks over his shoulder easily as he responds. his hand finds home on the small of your back. for the first time tonight, it actually makes you feel a little warm.

“no worries,” you tell him once his attention is back on you. “i like watching you play.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

“even though i’m all gross and sweaty now?”

the light snort you let out is too genuine to be embarrassed about. it makes him grin wider. “yes, even though you’re all gross and sweaty now.”

“hey, look at you, actually having fun. i was starting to think this whole thing was too much of a bust…”

so he had realized you weren’t feeling it. you pause now that the pair of you are far enough down the hall that the people you’ve left behind can neither see nor hear, prompting him to do the same, and raise a hand to cradle his jaw.

“i like you a lot, kuroo. i really do. and i’ve liked you a lot for months. what i don’t like is you pretending you’re someone you’re not because you think it’ll impress me. the guy i fell for was who i saw playing volleyball with his friends tonight, not the one who picked me up in that insane car and took me to that gaudy restaurant. you get what i’m saying?”

kuroo doesn’t respond for a moment. he just stands there, staring at you, seemingly a little dazed as one heartbeat passes and then another, but then he nods.

“yeah. yeah, i do. thank you for telling me.”

you lean up to press a kiss to his cheek before pulling away. “good. now, uh… you wanna go get some ice cream or something?”

“sure!” it’s fast, a little rushed, and you giggle at his eagerness. it makes him flush again, this time surely not from his unexpected workout. his hand finds its place on the small of your back again and he gestures down the hall. “there’s a place nearby run by this old couple i’ve been going to since i was in high school. i’ll introduce you, if you promise not to be weirded out by how excited they’ll be that i brought a date.”

“i swear i won’t,” you tell him seriously, earning a cheeky grin.

“the car’s not mine, by the way,” he adds on suddenly. “i borrowed it from a friend.”

“oh? somehow that doesn’t surprise me. you seem like the mini van type.”

kuroo lets out an exaggerated gasp. “the mini van type? i resent that remark. i’ll have you know i’m the ‘still drives the old coupe he inherited from his father at 20 years old because it still works fine and he’s too attached to it’ type.”

you bite your lip, trying to resist the urge to laugh and push down the surge of affection that swells up in you at the admission. he doesn’t miss your reaction, moving in closer and sliding his hand along to wrap around the side of your waist.

“what?”

“you’re adorable,” you tell him effortlessly, a little impressed with yourself by the ease with which you get it out.

“hey! that’s my line.” he sounds genuinely affronted, and he’s pouting at you, which makes you laugh even harder.

“you can say it, too. nobody’s stopping you.”

“okay. you’re adorable.” he glances down at you with a soft, sweet smile. “i might just have to kiss you when i drop you off at your house.”

that gets you flustered, cheeks warming as your laughter peeters off and you avert your eye. but you lean in closer to him despite it, tuck your shoulder in beneath his arm, and manage to respond giddily.

“keep this up and i might just have to let you.”

[pluviophile-imagines]

hello! for the prompt thing, can you please do kuroo + number 19? also was wondering is it ok if i reblog your prompt list and use it for writing inspo? i’ll def give you credit for the prompt

19: Hurrying down a wet street after the skies have opened up in a biting rain omg im so sorry this took a bit but yes ofc u can reblog!!! i made it its own post for that reason lmfao ♥️ hope u enjoy!! happy kuroo day 🥺

You run into Kuroo on the way to a study group together.

Actually, he scares the living daylights out of you by calling your name from the other side of the street. You’re on alert until you catch sight of him; it’s harder to recognize him with a knit hat covering his trademark messy hairstyle, and he’s all bundled up in a big woolen coat while you’re far more used to seeing him in t-shirts and thin sweaters that drape appealingly over the wide shoulders and sharp lines of his athlete’s body.

He jogs over, jaywalking entirely but beaming all the way as he catches up to you.

“You’re headed to the library, right? For that exam?”

You nod, and he grins even wider, and just like that you have a companion. A very tall, very lanky companion who quickly takes over carrying your backpack for you and fusses over your lack of hat until you acquiesce to him removing his own and shoving it on your head. You decide not to comment on the way his ears slowly begin to turn red; if he’s insisting on putting his clothes on you then you’re not about to complain.

The first raindrop hits you right at the back of your neck, and you gasp in surprise and displeasure—it’s cold and fat, enough so that you can feel it slide down beneath your collar, and accompanied by more and more until you’re lifting the bag in your hand up to cover yourself. You’re so distracted by the rain that Kuroo’s hand finding the small of your back takes you by surprise, and you’re a little startled until it registers that he’s leading you over to an awning to stand out of the downpour.

He stands pressed up close enough that he almost seems to be shielding you from the world beyond, hands tucked into his pockets but arm all but brushing against your back. You pull out your phone to check the weather.

“Rain won’t let up for another hour,” you say, and then sigh sharply. “Honestly, we’re better off going back to our dorms.”

“Damn.” He lifts his free hand to rub at his hair, somehow managing to mess it up even further. “I kinda needed the help for this exam.”

You stifle a laugh. “Well, you can still go, just be aware you might get turned away at the door for looking like a wet cat.”

In your peripheral, you can see him frown slightly, then begin to glance around. Before you can ask, he’s raising his hand and pointing across the street “There.”

“Huh?” You follow his finger to find a cafe tucked into the corner.

“Let’s go there. Closer than our dorms or the library, yeah?” He nudges you with his shoulder. “You’re the one I really wanted to study with, anyway.”

Your face warms at the admission, and you bite back a smile. “We can try it. At the very least it’s better than waiting for it to let up under here.”

“Good enough for me.”

His hand finds yours, large and warm as he laces your fingers together, and it tightens as he leads you quickly down the sidewalk, stopping briefly to wait at the crosswalk, hovering close to you until the indicator changes and he all but sprints across, dragging you behind him.

You’re both soaked by the time you make it to your destination, but you’re giggling under your breath as you take in the surroundings. It’s quaint, homely and warm with a healthy but not overwhelming din; you like it, you decide, and you like it even more when your attention falls on Kuroo to find that he’s staring at you with a dopey little smile on his face.

Shoving him playfully with your elbow snaps him out of it, but it’s only to your detriment as he leans in closer, face turned into you; it’s like the two of you are the only people in the room, and you’re not quite sure if that’s because of how much space he takes up physically or because of how much you’re drawn to him, but it makes you feel a little floaty either way.

His voice is low in your ear as he says, “Let’s stay, yeah? Wait out the storm together.”

You nod, hoping quietly that it won’t clear up any time soon. He still hasn’t let go of your hand.

[pluviophile-imagines]

pluuuvi if possible could I order ur bf kuroo with 16 and 25 🥹🤲🏻

16: The low, steady purr of a big orange tabby curled up, slumbering 25: The first dark morning, pitch black when there once was sunlight MONTY MY BELOVED tysm for sending this in i hope u enjoy 🥺 i went a lil out of the box but i think its so sweet,,,,,, friends to lovers morning after plot bunny

The sky outside is only just beginning to brighten, nothing that could be called sunrise yet to appear. The apartment is dark and chill as you pad through it carefully, praying you won’t wake its occupant before you manage to make it out the front door. You hadn’t entirely anticipated doing this before dawn, but it isn’t as if you have much of a choice. You need to be gone before he wakes up, or he’ll convince you to stay.

In your haste your socked foot slams into a table, sending pain shooting up from your toe. You wince, biting down the impulse to yelp, squeezing your eyes shut where you stand and listening for the sound of your friend (the one you should not have spent the night with, the one you should not be crushing on, the one whose bed you should not sleep in because he's your friend and you won't be able to take it when he tells you to leave in the end) shifting and waking within his bed. There’s nothing, so you straighten.

And pause. A large orange cat sits on the back of the couch, staring at you with big green eyes. She’s statuesque as she regards you, entirely still, and you’re about to turn to leave when she blinks once, slow and purposeful.

“Fine,” you whisper. “I’ll pet you, you spoiled brat.”

When you approach she finally leaps down on silent feet, a blur of pumpkin fur that brushes up against your shin and leads you past the couch to the tall cat tree she frequents.

You wait for her to hop up, watch her circle in place for a good few turns and kneed the plush cushion with delicate paws before she finally settles down and looks up at you expectantly.

It only takes a few strokes for her to fully sink down, eyes shutting as her chest rises and falls more and more rhythmically until the low, smooth sound of purring begins to fill the quiet room. You smile; it’s a sweet scene.

“You’re her favorite, you know.”

The voice that speaks is low and rich, still husky with sleep, and in the quiet of the morning it fills the empty apartment comfortably. It still makes you jump, straightening from how you’ve stooped to pet the cat. Kuroo’s hands fly to your waist to steady you, the warmth of them seeping through the hastily thrown on shirt you’d retrieved from the floor of his bedroom, and for a moment you raise your own to remove them. But then he’s pressing himself up against your back, tucking his face into the back of your neck and letting out a content sigh, and you’re resisting the urge to melt back into his hold.

“Her favorite?”

“Of all my friends you’re the only one she’s really warmed up to. She doesn’t even fall asleep with Kenma around.”

You snort despite yourself. “Oh, I bet he loves that.”

Ordinarily he would respond in turn, give a full chuckle and take the excuse to shittalk his best friend, but he busies himself with something different. You fall quiet as he presses a kiss to your nape, and when he pulls away your breath hitches. He gives you another further towards the crook of your neck, and then another down your shoulder, which is laid bare by how wide the collar of your shirt is. You shiver, and it’s assuredly not from the chill; not with how warm you feel, not with the heat of him draped around you.

“She wants you to stay,” he murmurs against your shoulder.

The attempt earns him a breathy puff of laughter. “Yeah, she wants me to stay.”

“It’s cold. She wants you to come back to bed.”

“I think she wants us to leave her alone so she can sleep in peace.”

“Coming back to bed is leaving her alone, except I get to hold you and the bed won’t be so cold.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. Your hand raises without you willing it, finding his face to cradle his jaw, and he turns into it with another of those deep, rumbling noises of content that makes your heart flutter.

“Tetsu, I—” You sigh, taking a moment to collect yourself. He presses his face further into your palm and meets your gaze with those pretty grey eyes, but you break the contact immediately, casting your own back down to the cat as your face heats up. “If I don’t leave now, I’ll never want to go.”

“Mmm.” He hums, still all low and rumbly, and reaches up to take the hand that cradles his face. Lacing your fingers with his, he keeps ahold of it and leans in to press his forehead to your temple. “Well, I already never want you to go, so we’ll be even.”

And what are you supposed to do with that except let him lead you back to bed?

[pluviophile-imagines]

Kuroo does this

[petrichorium]

You know Kuroo’s the one when he comes back into the living room and your cat immediately jumps down from its seat and darts over to greet him w it’s tail straight up

[pluviophile-imagines]

Kuroo is a cat magnet & Kenma fully takes advantage of his abilities. Whenever Kuroo goes anywhere a cat is bound to appear, and whenever Kenma wants a new one he simply invites Kuroo to go out somewhere…