gwahhh i love your scenarios so much they're amazing !! could you do a scenario with kuroo, tsukki and iwai where their fem s/o is an insomniac? and whenever she can't sleep she does her own hobbies like baking or drawing or she just takes a walk outside etc and one night they stay over at the boys houses and they wake up to see her doing her own thing and try to coax her to go back to bed?
It slipped my mind while writing that they were only supposed to be visiting- I hope you don’t too much that they ended up living together, I’m sorry! Anyhow, this was an incredibly heartwarming prompt to write for, and I hope that you enjoy it, and thank you for your patience. :)
At age twenty five, Kuroo is a far cry from just five, which was when he last believed in monsters underneath his bed. Or perhaps they’re still there, but he’s become far too old and too boring for them to find entertaining anymore, and they’ve moved on to people who sleep more, who have fewer nightmares, who can sleep fine alone.
He hears the noise from downstairs first. It’s a soft clang, but it’s enough to pull him out of half-awakeness and his fingers curl curiously around the edge of his pillow. She’s not there, and her space is cold and empty from the exposed bedsheet.
The clang comes again, followed with a very, very quiet curse that makes the edge of his lips curl with laughter at four in the morning. It’s no clawed thing, but his own little monster he relies on to comfort him each night in their multitudes of blankets at pillows that cradle them into mutual drowsiness. Her pills lie capped on her side of the bedside table, untouched and unmoved, and he knows that this must be a special night. The stars, maybe, or the autumn chill that treads it way softly through the corridors of their small house, trailing eagerly along the warm footsteps of whoever’s awake at this time of night.
Not for the first time, Kuroo regrets not wearing fluffy slippers with bears on them when his feet finally touch the ground. He swings himself off the edge gingerly, aware of how his head fogs with unfinished sleep and the way his muscles seem to creak at him, scolding him, potentially threatening to shut down completely if he doesn’t return this instant. He goes off hunting for slippers instead, and for you, even though he knows beyond familiarity where exactly he’d find those things.