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mambalae-s · 1 year

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fallen glory — ushijima wakatoshi x reader

wc: 3.2k words

cw: god! wakatoshi x nymph! reader; unprotected sex; breeding kink; size kink; wakatoshi is a big boi; reader is described as a black woman; degradation; manhandling; ; creampie; not proof read; if i’m forgetting anything please let me know!

notes from author: please, if you’re under 18, do NOT interact with or read this post. i will block you.

there are legends among mortal towns, the tellings of stories passed on by flesh and bone. a god, mankind will utter through shrouds of smoke, beneath fire-lit nights of centuries old, where the stars would even hold their breath to hear the words of divine destruction. a god so mighty and fearsome that wields power in his breath alone, that the earth would tear herself apart and offer her burning heart, that she would so desperately beseech her master that this mere sacrifice would be enough to please him. mankind would sing those sorrow-filled ballads of flaming rivers that sputtered brilliant embers, so brilliant in their dying glory that venus herself would weep and beg for mercy.

and this god, oh, this righteous and almighty god, his heart would mirror the depths of darkness. how cruel, this god, that he would beckon the tempests and the floods to destroy and ruin the earth, that he would paint wars and famine across endless seas and planes until there would be nothing left of man. when he bestows his wrath on bellowing thunders and rips the heavens asunder with magnificent lightning, he holds no mercy for the weak and unfaithful. his eyes behold, and his left hand cast their judgement, and the earth can do nothing but wait with bated breath as the universe stands still around her, powerless, and without charge of the pestilence that would next consume her and wipe her filthy soul clean once more.

oh, but who could imagine the divine’s demise at the hands of a damsel?

let these words not travel far, lest they spread across continents and reveal him for what he is. let the world not know of his mortality, of a heart that quivers before summer-touched evenings and sings wretched hymns of manly lust and desire. of his visits to the holy garden, they must not learn, even less should they know of the soul that resides there — the very same that would tame the tempest, and incite a hunger so ravenous and feral only to quench it all the same.

he’s here; you know without even looking, and your intuition tells you that he knows that you know. you don’t need to look behind you to know that wakatoshi’s watching you, eyes of gold and olive that stalk you like a hunter. he takes in every part of your image as a devotee does with visions. the droplets of water that glisten across dark brown skin, the sheer white fabric that clings to your full mounds and ass, barely doing anything to conceal your perked nipples, or the dip between your plush thighs. by the heavens, you truly are a vision of sin and desire — one that held the key to destruction between two-toned lips and written like scriptures among dark coils of hair akin to sacred vines.

“well?” you sigh, sinking further into the pond. the cool water kisses your skin with a tenderness that washes away the day’s searing heat. goosebumps rise across your body and you lull your head to the side, and that’s when you see him, your god come here to visit the garden of eden. “will you just stand there or are you gonna join me?”

how brazen, you must’ve sounded, irreverent as if you knew not the god who’d walked into your sanctuary. yet you knew all too well who he was, and you knew what he’d come for. you knew that, just with the sight of your body drenched in water, you could unravel this benevolent god and reduce him to nothing but a man lost in desire. since the first day he found you here on a lonely spring’s afternoon so many years ago, you’d somehow wrapped his tongue between your teeth and poisoned him with pleasure untold so that he would return time and time again. he reminds you of a lunatic, seeking the taste of your nectar like a man who knows nothing else, and you’d become his drug and his achilles heel, the very thing that could unwind this god and render him to nothingness.

the waters part to make way, welcoming wakatoshi into the pool as he comes close to you. his body presses against yours and he leaves no room between, so greedy in the way his fingers dip into your waist and burying his face into the crook of your neck to take in your scent. you reach up one hand to wrap into his long, jade green locks, and you pull him closer to you, eager to feel his lips leaving soft kisses across your skin.

“i can’t stop thinking about you…” he grumbles into your jawline, hungry and impatient. his fingers wrap into the thin fabric of your gown, nails digging into your flesh as he pulls you closer, pressing his hard cock into your ass as if he wants it to disappear between it. “fuck, what are you doing to me?”

you can’t help the soft moan that escapes your lips, though you know there’d be no sense trying to. coyly, you reach for one of his hands and bring it down to your pussy, pressing his palm flat against it and pushing yourself further against his length. “nothing, darling.” the words that leave you are teasing, almost to test him — accentuated by your sugary laugh when his fingers begin to peel your dress against your skin without you needing to tell him. “it’s you who keeps coming back here on your own accord.”

his fingers dip between your thighs and your knees buckle a bit when they brush against your pussy. you’re wet, wakatoshi discovers your slick already pooling into his hands despite him hardly even touching you. tauntingly, he caresses you, pools your slick along his fingers as he so barely slides them between your swollen cunt to hear the hiss that slips out of your mouth.

“look at you,” he chuckles, condescending. “so needy already, hm? do you want a god’s cock to defile you that badly?”

he’s baiting you, drawing on your words like a puppeteer, you know it. only touching you ever so slightly, giving you the smallest taste of what he knows you want, yet he wants you to beg for it. he wants you to throw yourself unto desperate abandon and give yourself up to him. and it’s working too damn well. greedily, you try to sink yourself down on his fingers, but he quickly stops you with a hand around your throat. frustrated, you whimper. “wakatoshi…” you keen. “for god’s sake, stop toying with me already!”

his teeth sink into your neck suddenly, the sensation of his lips sucking on your flesh causing your pussy to flutter. “nngh…” overcome with weakness, your head falls back against his chest, and your eyes are forced to behold the behemoth of a man behind you; the glistening droplets that slide down olive skin and the furrowed lines atop his expression. his lips part on breaths heavy and weighted as he squeezes his fingers tighter around your throat, and your own breath catches beneath his grip. you’re left wanting, needing the very air he robs you of, needing him inside your core, needing him and everything he’d give to you.

ah, you think bitterly, i’ll lose this war again today.

“you know what i want to hear from you, little one.” wakatoshi’s words ghost against the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver, heat coursing through each pulse despite the chill of the water. he takes his hand from your soiled thighs and brings his fingers to his mouth, and you watch with eyes glazed by lust as he sucks your juices from them and groans. “hurry…” he huffs. his cock twitches against your ass impatiently, his balls almost ready to burst and bury themselves inside your tight little cunt. “you know i don’t like waiting…”

those words so heavy and fogged over by hunger, you know he’s teetering on the very edge of snapping, letting you know that you’re not the only one who wants the other. he makes slow, intentional work of licking his fingers clean and he sees the way your inhibitions snap behind your eyes, revels in the whimper that leaves your lips as your hands fly to remove your dress all on your own. your breasts fall freely for him to see them glistening under filtered sunlight and of sight of your pursed nipples causes his length to twitch hungrily against your ass.

“please…!” inhibitions abandon you, your pride lost on the incessant pulsing between your legs. you need him to fill you, to ravish and demolish you — you’re aching now, impatient, craving him, “please, toshi, i need you inside me… now!”

you see the very moment wakatoshi reaches his limits and he snaps.

a yelp escapes you as he hoists you up, spinning you around to lock your legs around his hip. his lips crash into yours, mercilessly pushing his tongue into your wet cavern like a beast as he drinks you in. he feels your moans rumbling through his chest and he responds in kind, the space between you non-existent and your body flushed against him.

“that’s a good girl.” whimpering, you claw your fingers into his back as if holding on for dear life. “that wasn’t so hard, was it?” you want to curse him for toying with you, want to shut that filthy, irreverent mouth of his but your mind is too cloudy to give anything but sweet pleas of his name. drool pools from between your lips as he draws his tongue along your neck, suckling and biting every inch of skin. you’ll bruise blue and purple, you know it, but you can’t bring yourself to care. you want him to mark you, want him to possess your body and soul.

your fingers tangle into his tresses of green hair and you pull, causing him to hiss against your neck. “enough already, wakatoshi..!” despite your harsh words, you know they sound like nothing but muddled pleas to him. he’s so much bigger than you, it’s hard to forget he still has control over you — the way his large palms squeeze your ass, the way your body has to sit just above his hip, it’s hard to forget that fact.

“just fuck me already! you act like you don’t know the things you do to me, haah, like you don’t know how much you make me want you even— nngh, even when… you’re not here…”

ah, but how unfair of you, isn’t it? how can you accuse him of such things when really, you’re the one who does this to him? how could you not know that your visage haunts him day and night? that he dreams of taking you over and over, of pumping your hole full of his seed until your tummy would swell? that even then, he’d keep filling you up, keening to hear those sweet, filthy cries of his name over and over? you must know what you do to him; he growls against your skin, sinking his teeth into your collar and causing you to cry out and pull against his hair. “then tell me what you want, darling…”

frustration bubbles within you like an erotic poison as you glare down into emerald orbs. have you not been clear enough for him? what prayers would it take to satisfy this insatiable god? for him to finally give himself to you and abandon all else? you’re already powerless here in his hands, your dress reduced to a soaking bundle that wraps around your waist where his hands palm your bare skin. the tip of his cock only barely touching your core, and you can do nothing but wait until he sinks you down unto it. struggle as you might, your need couldn’t be fulfilled until he wills it, until he finally lets in and use you like you want to be used.

“i want you to take responsibility…” pettily, you huff, eyes narrowing further at the coy grin that sits on his mouth. even with his flushed cheeks and your spit coating his skin, he looks up at you, waiting for you to finish. “i want you to destroy me and fuck me senseless. i want you to force me to take every drop of seed and use me until your fat cock empties out everything inside me.”

wakatoshi hums, pleased, it seems, by your words, though he knows he wouldn’t have been able to hold off any longer even if he hadn’t wrung them out of you. oh, the things you do to him without even knowing that turn him into a wild beast. he all but eagerly lines up the head of his throbbing dick to your entrance, and the warmth of it is already so welcoming as he parts your pussy lips, teasingly rubbing your clit.

“take responsibility, hm?” he purrs against your skin as you whimper, soon forcing out the loveliest scream of his name as he brings you down in one swift motion. he watched your eyes roll into the back of your head, drinks in the way your lips fly open as his length spreads you apart. his own eyes narrow and he clenches his teeth — your tight walls squeeze around him so deliciously, so small and delicate as they clamp around the intrusion. “such a pretty, fragile little doll, aren’t you? fuck…!”

god, he hadn’t even fully sunken into you yet, and already he felt himself hitting the tip of your cervix, pressing deeper and deeper and causing your entire body to convulse as drool pours from your lips, fat tears pooling on your waterline. your orgasm wrecks your body in waves and you tremble, already fucked too weak to even support yourself. helplessly, you fall limp into wakatoshi’s arms, neck lulling back so that you’re forced to look up at the god above you, forced to watch his face contort in mortal pleasure as your hole continues to needily suck him in.

“aww…” he coos at your pathetic form. he brings one hand to cup your messy cheek while the other continues to support your weight, pushing a thumb into your open lips. almost mindlessly, you latch unto it and begin sucking. “already? kitten, i’ve hardly done anything to you yet.” even then, wakatoshi wants more from you. he wants to fuck you senseless, break you to nothingness until you couldn’t think of anything but him inside you. so he pushes, deep past your walls until he fully buries himself inside you, his tip so deliciously hitting your womb. you squeal and tighten your legs at the sensation of him bottoming out of you, dig your nails deep into his arms as if to ground yourself from slipping further.

“w-wait…! please, toshi—!” you cry, though your words are lost on him, drowned by his heavy breaths as he presses his lips against yours, pleas swallowed up while your body shakes. “i only just came, i’m— nngaah! ‘m too sensitive, slow down— fuck! ahh!”

despite your begging, wakatoshi doesn’t give you a moment to recover. he sets a relentless pace of pounding into you, pushing deeper and deeper, the sound of his balls clapping so filthily against your slick not yet enough to hide each honey-coated wail he forces out of you. “you said to… hnngn— take responsibility, didn’t you?” roughly, he wraps his hand around your throat and forces you to look up at him, all so he can take in that beautifully fucked expression you wear, teardrops lining your lashes and your mouth wantonly gasping for air. “that’s exactly what i’m doing, darling. isn’t this what you wanted?”

“yes..!” you can’t deny it. lying to him would be no use, it’s too late to try. your body’s already betrayed you for the pleasure he gives you, your battered hole pulsing around him with each thrust as he stretched you impossibly wide. “yes, wakatoshi..! fuck! i wanted you to fuck me n use me just like this!”

he chuckles, sinful and ungodly, as he releases his hold on your throat to place it around your waist and pulls you down, over and over, repeatedly until your body can do naught but fall to his mercy. “haah..! nngh….! fuck, fuck, fuuuck!”

“that’s it, kitten, just like that.” oh, heavens help him, he already feels himself beginning to waver, his hips staggering as he drives into you. he’s so close, his cock twitching viciously inside your beaten pussy, so close to exploding and filling you up. “take everything, you hear me? i’m gonna cum deep inside your filthy little cunt, and you better take all of it. gonna breed you again and again.”

“mhn! mhn! mhhn!” you’re far too gone to even understand the words he growls at you, far too gone to care for much else other than the sensation of him breaking you apart, or for the prayer you let escape your corrupted heart. “do it..! do it, waka…! let everything out and cum inside me, please, please, please!”

oh, how good did it feel to be at his mercy, to let him ruin you time and time again, at his beck and call. beneath his hold, you release all senseless moral and surrender to the wicked hunger of a being far greater than you. without warning, your body convulses beneath your pleasure as your second orgasm crashes over you. it rips through every vein in your body and releases itself from your core and you scream, your mind gone blank as you cream and squirt all over him. the very coil wound so tightly within your gut breaks like a tidal wave and pushes you off the edge, and after a few more harsh thrusts, you’re granted your reward.

wakatoshi grunts and gasps as his cock bursts his cum inside you, near panting as he pulls you flush against his hip and forces every drop into your delicate womb. his fingers dig deep into your doughy flesh, moans falling from him like a man needing air. he’d spent every last drop inside of you, his chest heaves on the aftershocks of pleasure, but gods be damned, he isn’t through with you yet. you, crumbled against his chest and fucked positively dumb, he hadn’t yet had his fill of you.

“h-hey, wakatoshi, what’re you—!” your startled shout goes unheard by the god as he forces you off his cock, only to bend you over rear up against the edge of the pool. shivers involuntary wreck your body, your whole clenching and your form already weakened by him. “please, i can’t take anymore, lemme rest a little— gaah!”

he silences you quickly by pushing his fingers into your stretched hole, pushing his cum back inside you as your walls object, already far too sensitive. “didn’t you hear me?” he grins, though you can’t see his expression from behind you. so, he pulls you up by your neck, grinning as he towers over your small frame. oh, how feeble and defenseless you stood before him, your legs couldn’t even support your frame, and it was all because of him.

“i said i’d make sure to fill up this tight little cunt. i’m not just done with you yet.”

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luvtsumu · 11 months

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could yall imagine msby4, osamu and suna all at your grad at the same time!!!! i think it'd be so hectic and endearing :-(

they'd all come with their own boquet of flowers, probably having coordinated prior on what they're getting you!! the agreement was definitely small bouquets so that you'd at least be able to carry them all (BUT???? WHY WOULD BOKUTO NOT GIVE YOU AN ENTIRE GARDEN???? YOU DESERVE IT!!!!!)

atsumu is def a bit annoyed that bokuto got a bigger bouquet for you, BUT atsumu is the only one who got you a cute helium balloom!!

they'd be early to the ceremony, seeing you before and after!! you told them that it wasn't important for them to come so early (you had to be there 90 mins prior to the ceremony itself to get your gown, degree, and professional photos taken) but they insisted

they as in hinata, bokuto and atsumu... they just couldn't wait

sakusa, osamu and suna were more than happy to arrive on time... but for carpooling purposes and actually being able to find parking, going all together was the better choice

but what's 90 minutes?!?!??! time went by so fast with the number of pictures you got with them even before you got your gown

you'd obviously get solo pictures with everyone, all of them smiling in their photos that'd let everyone know how proud they are of you!!!

hinata definitely has his cheek pressed up against yours (careful not to smudge any of your make up though if you're wearing any!!), has an arm around your shoulders, and has his other pointing at your degree with you hold it! his smile is so bright and his eyes squint up. he giggles as you two take the photo which ends up making you laugh and show the camera a cheesy smile.

bokuto would have an arm around your shoulders too!! resting his cheek on top of yours and practically caging you as he gives the camera two thumbs up!! you'd smile big and mimic his pose which gets everyone laughing since you honestly give off "mini me" vibes with him

atsumu for sssuuurrreee sticks his tongue out in his photo with you. arm around your shoulders--not really since he puts up a peace sign behind your head to give you bunny ears--and his other hand pointing towards you. he'd wink at the camera too and they'd end up catching a photo of you rolling your eyes at him (that's the one he'd post LMAO)

sakusa, of course, is a little more reserved--but he's so proud of you and your accomplishments!! his arm still wraps around you respectfully and he smiles for the camera. he takes off his mask completely for you so you both get a good photo. he's definitely the most formal when it came to taking a photo with you (but anyone would be able to see how happy he is to see you graduating with the way his eyes squint up and his smile looks so natural)

osamu is super natural when taking a photo with you!! he's got an arm around your waist which atsumu calls him out for (he flips atsumu off LOL) and you laugh. someone gets a picture of this before the actual proper pose hahahaha. he'd tilt his head towards you and point at your degree, his smile cheesy and body language proud

suna, same as osamu tbh, but he practically headlocks you with how close he brings you with his arm. he smiles, rests his cheek against your head, and smiles at the camera while pointing at your degree. his smile is smth everyone gets caught off guard with--since when was he so soft?!

during the ceremony, the rowdy ones get restless because why the hell is it taking so long ahlddjsjdjdjdj but!!!!!

as soon as they see you getting ready to walk, they're EXCITED

everyone is up from their seats, clapping and cheering for you as loud as they can (except maybe sakusa, but he's still definitely standing and clapping obnoxiously loud) as soon as your name is called and they cheer allllll the way until you walk off the stage

the rest of the graduates and audience laugh at their enthusiasm, but, of course, find it endearing as they're yelling things along the lines of "that's our graduate!!!" "walk that stage y/n!!!!" "i love you!!!! give me your autograph!!!" "thats 40 thousand dollars right there!!!!"

and of course some people know who they are!!! you're definitely the talk of the town and some people are jealous you've got the rowdy volleyboys cheering you on so excitedly!!

after the ceremony, more pictures are taken (lots of group photos and silly ones too!!) and this time even with your family.

your family thanks them for coming and comments on how hilarious it was to hear them cheering. it gives them a great feeling (esp one of comfort!) knowing that you are loved so dearly by others!

the boys are also invited for dinner and who are they to say no?!?!?!?

later, they're definitely all posting photos on instagram!! hinats posts on his story and makes an actual post for you--he filmed your walk and definitely posted that, probably captioning it with "slaying their best slay rn 😫" LMAO,,, he also makes a cute collage of you, obviously wanting to highlight YOU as the graduate, for his story. for his post, he makes a photo of you two together the first photo, followed by a bunch more, a group photo, and then his favourite solo picture of you giving a cheesy smile to the camera as you hold up your degree!! he'd caption his post with a short cheesy paragraph about being proud of you and knowing you'll have a great future

bokuto also posts a video of your walk on his story and his yelling is so loud 😭😭😭 everyone who watches it definitely turns down their volume LOL but it's super sweet!! he follows it with a photo of you two together and just sticker bombs it. he also makes a post, making the first picture one he took of the bouquet he got you, then his favourite picture of the both of you, following it with more duo photos, a group photo, and even a photo of him and the boys while they waited. he captioned it with "SO HAPPY FOR @ YNUSERNAME !!! CONGRADS AND REMEBER ME WHEN YOU'RE FAMOUS!!! LOVE YOU!!!!!!!"

atsumu spams his story of your entire graduation actually LOL it started with him getting ready, him with osamu, the both of them getting you each a bouquet, him getting a balloon, them meeting up with the other boys, the hectic car ride that consisted of a loud karaoke session much to sakusa's (the driver) dismay, a video of them seeing you for the first time and how your face lit up, two 6-photo collages before the ceremony (mostly pictures of the both of you striking many different poses), a video of you getting ready to walk and him saying "it's happeenninng!", a video of you walking and his screaming (he's the one who yelled that he loves you and wants an autograph for suuurree), and bunncch of photos afterwards. he posts one group photo followed by his favourite photo of the two of you on his feed and captions it with "so proud of this scholar!!! c's get degrees!" and you're definitely defending your honour in the comments when you eventually see the post LMAO

sakusa, more reserved tbh, posts a picture of you walking the stage on his story! he has a video but thats for safekeeping and he fucking hates how loud atsumu was jsdkdjshdkdjsjdj anyways,,,, he tags you in the story, follows it with a cute photo collage with a couple cute stickers that said congrats! and some confetti, and he also posts a group photo on his feed. he captions it with something sweet and simple! "congradulations to @ ynusername. so proud of you and your success :-)"

osamu posts a video of you walking on his story (volume included LOL) and he's also cheering for you! a part of the video he posts, the camera turns to him and suna and they both exaggerate their cheering. they laugh together but it gets cut off (((and everyone who views it replays it just to see that part again))))). he posts a lot of pictures on his story, so obviously proud of you, and he also gets pictures at dinner! he's late for the actual feed post because he forgot LOL and the first picture is of him, you and atsumu together! it's a silly photo, of course, and it's follow by proper ones, duo photos, a group photo, and a cute picture of you! he captions it with "sry it's late :P happy grad to our happy grad <3" and ofc the boys put him on blast for being late

suna is similar to atsumu (not surprisingly) but not as aggressive. he definitely makes it more mysterious as to where he's going on his story as he posts a mirror selfie of him all dressed up (practically a thirst trap ugh....) and even posts the cute bouquet he got you without context LOL. after that, the next story post is a video of you scurrying over to him and the rest of the group. he posts a picture of the two of you together (def a .5 pic) and captions it with a simple "with the cutest graduate" !! of course he films your walk, posts it, and follows it with a collage of photos! his post for his feed is of the two of you (his favourite photo ofc), followed by a group photo, one with the boys, one with osamu and sakusa, a selfie, and then a silly one of you (probably a picture of you zoned out during dinner because of how tired you were LOL). he captions it with "cograds @ ynusername B] slay your best slay 🫰🏼"

anyway 😭😭😭 grad with these guys would definitely be so much fun

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milktei · 1 year

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hi! i really fell in love with your “again” fic with sakusa. it was so amazing & i really liked how you wrote it. i was wondering if you can write another fic with that same concept but with suna?

Fine

Suna Rintarou x Reader

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort

Warnings: Suna is probably a bit ooc. not edited

Requests: Open

a/n: first of all i would like to let anon know HOW SORRY I AM FOR TAKING LITERALLY OVER A YEAR TO POST THIS. I LOVE YOU ANON AND IF YOU ARE STILL IN THE FANDOM I HOPE THIS IS OKAY. THIS WAS HALF FINISHED IN MY DRAFTS FOR SO LONG AND I FINALLY BIT THE BULLET

on another note requests are still open somehow but i can’t guarantee that they will be finished efficiently :’)

You weren’t sure when the rift started.

You two were happy, at least you thought you were.

He would bring you little gifts after practice, eat meals with you any chance he got, either plan or agree to go on dates with you.

Until he didn’t.

Maybe he got too comfortable after so long of together. Maybe he thought he didn’t need to do much to woo you anymore. To an extent he didn’t, but him completely failing to put any effort into the relationship hurt.

He was on his phone more, staying at practice late, practically ignoring you when you would hang out, all without any explanation.

One date. One night not spent in an apartment is all you asked for.

After weeks of trying he finally agreed. An awkward dinner were trying to keep a conversation going felt like pulling teeth.

Your displeasure with him was palpable from when you got in the car all they way to his apartment where you two now stood.

“What is it?” he asked with annoyance ringing through the air.

You sighed as you sat on the couch “I…” you swallowed, almost afraid to tell him “I’m not very happy with how today went.”

Suna scoffed, “You’re talking as if that’s fault or something.

You winced “Well it didn’t seem like you were enjoying yourself either.”

He raised an eyebrow at you tone and threw his arms in the air. “I did what you asked y/n! We went on that damn date didn’t we? I even invited you over! What more could you possibly want?”

Time seemed to slow down in that moment. What more could you possibly want? Surely he knew? How could you possibly answer that without making him even more mad?

Clenching your hands, staring angrily at the ground, you could only say what came to mind.

“How did we end up like this Rin? It’s like we’re strangers again.”

For a moment you could have sworn you saw a shift in his posture, a subtle recoil, but it disappeared in a moment and was replaced by a more rigid stance.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you y/n but I’ve been feeling just fine. if you don’t like it you can just leave.”

The venom in his words was unlike anything you have ever heard come from his mouth. This wasn’t the man who you fell in love with. The man who stuttered endlessly when he first asked you out. The same man who took pictures of you any chance he could because you always looked good in his eyes.

No. This man was aloof, uncaring, detached.

He was not your Suna Rintarou.

“Fine.”

A beat of silence.

“Fine?” Suna echoed back. You hated that you couldn’t read any emotions in the tone of voice he used.

“Fine,” you said feeling more confident with your decision.

No longer feeling cemented to where you sat, you grabbed your bag from the couch, storming to the front door where you ripped open the closet to grab your coat. as you jammed your feet into your shoes you took a couple deep breaths.

“So you’re leaving? Just like that?”

You inhaled sharply and turned to him, angry tears filling your eyes. “You don’t get to talk to me like that,” you pointed at him accusingly “not after everything you did, not after everything I did to try to make this work. This isn’t my fault and you don’t get to make it seem like it was.”

The only sound that filled the room was your angry breathing and in a moment you turned on your heel and left the apartment

——————

That memory from months ago rang clear in your mind as you stared at the man in front of you dumbfounded. There he was, standing at your door. He nervously scratched the back of his head as he held out a bouquet of flowers to you

The state he was in was nearly a mirror image of when he first asked you out.

“I’m sorry.”

You had half the mind to slam the door in his face.

But you didn’t

That lovesick part of your brain that you desperately tried to shove back wriggled its way free and you take back the man that had put you through so much pain.

That leads to where the two of you are right now. Months after he showed up with those flowers.

You had initially planned to go to the mall alone, just to buy a friend a gift for their upcoming birthday.

Suna had the day off and when you told him of your plans, he surprised you by asking to tag along.

While at first you were elated to be in his company. A cloud of dread sat in the back of your mind.

He was trying, you could give him that.

Flowers, home cooked meals, cafe dates, and daily calls. Everything you could’ve dreamed and asked for all those months ago.

That was the problem though. He was doing everything you begged for and now you couldn’t tell for the life of you if it was genuine or not.

It was irrational and unhealthy to be thinking this way. To think that Suna was only being a better boyfriend because you asked him to and not because he actually wanted to.

But how could you think any other way with how he had treated you before?

Still, you walked through the mall with him, hand in hand, just like before.

A particular shift caught you eye in a store, one that wasn’t your friends style, but definitely yours. Suna could tell from the look in your eyes that you liked it.

“You thinking of getting that shirt babe? I can get it for you.”

You looked at him like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar and forced out a giggle “No thank you Rin, I was just looking.”

His smile faltered the tiniest bit “Alright.”

The rest of your shopping trip was uneventful and you eventually found what you were looking for.

It was when you got in the car that he tried again, “Why don’t we grab some ice cream before we go home? There’s a new place on the way to your apartment.”

He rejoiced at the subtle excitement that showed on your face

“Only if you would like to. We don’t have to.”

He nearly groaned in despair at your response.

“y/n”

You stiffened in shock at the seriousness in his voice “Yes?”

“Somethings bothering you.”

it wasn’t a question, it was a statement that Suna was waiting for you to confirm.

“What are you talking about?”

He sighed “I’m not going to sit here in silence again when I know somethings wrong. Something has been wrong for a while now.”

“Nothings wrong!” you shout defensively. Shocking even yourself. You turn your gaze to your lap and nervously wrench your hands together.

Silence filled the car

“Well now I’m even less inclined to believe you.”

You let out a sad chuckle at his response and take a deep breath before telling him what’s been on your mind since you got back together.

“It just feels like nothing will ever be like how it used to be.”

He kept silent and you took it as a cue to keep talking. You weren’t sure you would be able to stop even if you tried

“How am I supposed to act like nothing happened! They way you spoke to me back then…and then expected me to stay, getting mad at me for “throwing away” what we had, even though you knew I was unhappy.”

Tears fill your eyes but Suna dared not invade your space in a moment so vulnerable

“Then all of a sudden you come back and I can’t find it in myself to day no because I wanted you to do better so badly- and you are!

You’re putting more effort into this, but I can’t help but feel bitter sweet because I can only think about how your only trying because I asked. I wonder everyday if any of this is genuine or if you’re just comfortable having me around and then one day you’ll realize that this isn’t for you and leave again.”

The amount of despair that filled Suna was immeasurable. His mind filled with doubt and screamed at him at all the ways he could’ve done better and how he never deserved you.

Still, he reached out a hand and waited for you to grab it.

“I should have never let you leave that day y/n. I knew that from the moment that door shut, but I was too stupid, too proud, too afraid of what would happen if I chased after you.”

His grip tightened, “and like a coward I waited, hoping that maybe you would come back instead of me having to take that step.”

Suns let out a self deprecating laugh “It took me way too long to realize that’s what got us into this mess in the first place. Me waiting for all you love on a silver platter when you got none in return.”

He turned as much as he could in his spot and grabbed your other hand. You looked up at his face and almost gasped at the amount of love and earnest that showed on a normally expressionless face.

“I understand that you think that I may only be putting this much effort because you asked. But you shouldn’t be afraid to ask y/n, not anymore. Trust me, while I am doing what you asked it’s also because I want to make you happy. Every time I think about that day I get so angry at the fact that I made you so desperate for the bare minimum.”

“Please y/n, anything you want just ask and I will do everything in my power to make sure that I don’t make you sad again.”

You couldn’t help yourself and leaned across the centre console of the car, hugging him as best as you could as tears finally began to flow.

“How do I know this isn’t just going to go back to the way it was? You could very easily fall back into that habit.” You said through sobs.

“I know” Suna sighed

You pulled back “You know?”

“I know” he confirmed, “but I promise to do whatever I can to make this right y/n, you tell me if your unhappy and I will do my best to fix whatever I’ve done and ensure that we’ll be fine.”

A beat of silence filled the car before you let out a small laugh through your sobs. Suna’s heart fluttered at the first sound of happiness you let escape for the first time in a while.

You lifted a hand and messily wiped away your tears, “This is an awful place to have a heart to heart moment”

He smiled at you with all the love under the sun and cupped your cheek. “There’s a lot that we still need to work through, it’ll take some time. But how about I take you to that ice cream place first?”

You beamed at him, “Okay”

Yeah, you two would be just fine.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #hq suna #suna rintaro angst #suna rintaro headcanons #suna rintaro x reader #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu angst #haikyuu reader insert

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niftykin · 4 months

Text

"Im so sorry to bother you at home"

Starring: Nishinoya Yuu

Sypnosis: He has been trying to hit on you subtly for quite a few time, but he has grown a little more determinate now.

Request: Hello! Could you please write a Nishinoya x female reader where she’s seen by everyone as a serious, menacing person, when in reality she’s really just socially awkward and dense? Nishinoya tries hitting on her doing the usual tricks like flowers and bears and pick up lines but she’s just confused. Finally he just becomes more direct with her and honest and slowly she falls for him too? I’m sorry if it’s a bit too detailed and it’s okay if you don’t do this haha it’s been at the back of my head for a while

A/N: This one was so cute to write!, i tried to be really quick making this but the inspiration came to me like a thunder and here we are. Remember i use she/her in this fic.

Nishinoya Yuu. The thunder of the Karasuno team, always so energetic and kind, oftenly called delusional by his feelings towards Kiyoko, little did they know that it wasent a crush, he admired her and by that her personality and how she acted; But he liked you, he admired you and wordshipped the very floor you stepped on.

His tries were almost pathetic, sure he could tell Kiyoko anything btu it was different when it was you, he shacked and mumbled like a little kid inlove everytime he crossed any words with you. Everyone could tell but some way you didnt; Not even the flowers he gave you, little gifts he made for you with his own hands (which were a cute detail since he isnt pretty good with manualities) But from time to time his friends started to see that there was no response tho this little acts.

"She doesn't like you and she's acting like that to decline your feelings nicely" He heard one of them said, his heart ached but then Hinata spoke answering to the previous person, his words were filled with determination and his obvious spark that always bringed hope to everyone. "And what if she isnt?, she could see it was a friendly gesture. Nishinoya haven't talked about his feelings openly to her"

Hinata had a point, Sugawara and Daichi agreed, yes Nishinoya and his friends could think those hints were obvious enough to tell that he was completely head over heels inlove with you. But they know him as a friend and since pretty long time comparing to you; They weren't you and that meant they didnt feel or thinked like you.

He planned his confession, would you like something big? the whole school knowing?, No, it will make you agree by social pressure, Did you liked him enough to say 'Yes' without much people knowing? Oh God.

It was 6PM on a friday. He can remember it vividly, his steps were hard on the floor and his fingers were digging into his shirt and on the little box he held, his palms sweated and his face was red; He knocked at your door. After a few minutes you opened the door.

"Hey, im so sorry to bother you at home" he started as he saw you, his face blushed and his cologne was subtle as always. "I know that this might be hard but... I dont know what to say" he started panicking.

"I like you a lot" He finally stated after a sigh, his gaze fixated on the floor, the blush on his cheeks made him look heated, his breathing was heavy and his mind was longing and pleading for an answer.

"Are you being serious?" You spoke, a hidden tint of amusement in your voice, his feeling were glowing as he answered "Of course i am, why wouldnt i? i like you so much" He said as he took another step, reflecting his mind and then doing the opposite and stepping back, he didnt wanted to make the situation awkard, he just wanted to finally be totally sincere with you.

little did he know you liked him aswell, but oh lord he is the happiest man alive.

"Hey, i bringed this for you too" He said as he smiled at you, more confident and smug after your answer, handing you a little figure you have been longing to have since quite a few time. He buyed it for you since the first day you mentioned it but he decided to wait untill the ocation was perfect, and sure it was.

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willowfolksong · 1 year

Text

argumentative, antithetical dream boy

(inspired by the song Hits different, by Taylor Swift)

Atsumu Miya x Reader

Atsumu enters the Onigiri Miya restaurant with a bounce on his step and a smile on his face. A smile that he knows, will make anyone in his close proximity melt like chocolate candies in the sun. He knows, of course he knows. But just to make sure, he lowers his sunglasses, looks straight into the eyes of a girl sitting on a table to his right, and winks.

She blushes. The guy she's with fumes.

Mission accomplished.

He can tackle the main quest just fine.

"Who wears sunglasses inside?" Osamu shoots at him as soon as he sees him "Take them off, you idiot"

Not a good start. And certainly not the welcoming Atsumu was expecting, but he won't let this minor inconvenience stop him.

"Did you hear what I just said?" Osamu tries again, while he finishes wiping his hands on a towel. "Oi, Atsumu!"

His only answer is a scorching glare from his older brother as he reaches the back of the restaurant, finally coming to stand in front of the bar where you, working with your back to him, are busy rearranging the bottles.

Hopefully, you didn't heard his brother's quips either, and he can still make a nice entrance for himself.

"Hi, Atsumu. I'm busy today, so I can't talk much"

Or not.

Still without turning around, you wave your hand at him in greeting and keep moving bottles to one side to another. Atsumu leans down against the bar and taps his fingers on the recently polished wood. He thinks it's oak, but he's not really sure. You aren't either. He remembers that time he asked you and you laughed and told him you weren't a tree expert.

Laughter.

That's right. He can catch your attention by making you laugh.

"Oh come on. Can't you spare like, five minutes?" he pouts, his head coming to rest on one of his hands "Is a bottle of whiskey really better to look at than me?"

That makes you pause. And you don't quite laugh, but you're smiling when you finally turn around and face him, and that's a small victory he will take with his arms wide open.

"What kind of drink are you going to want today?"

"Ouch, straight to business, huh?"

"Well" you say, and this time you do laugh. An airy laugh that he remembers very well from that time you were underneath him in bed, and he tickled you and you...

He clears his throat and pushes that train of thought aside, because you're still talking, because he's in public, and because his jeans are very tight.

"... so yeah, it's kind of my work" you finish, and he's vaguely aware that you basically just told him that he should order something, and so he does, and watches intently as you get to work in whatever his mouth decided it was a good choice of beverage, while his brain was busy conjuring images of you in his bed.

"How's the night goin'?"

"Not so bad"

"But you just said ..."

"I'm busy because we had a new shipment today, so I have to rearrange everything around" you explain, shaking your head while you turn the blender on "But this is an onigiri restaurant. Almost no one comes for the bar" then you pause, waiting for the blender to finish before continuing "Well, except for you that is"

"I don't come for the bar, I come for you"

"Are you saying my drinks are shitty, by any chance?"

Ah, your good old friend, deflection. Atsumu knows her quite well.

You finish everything and hand him what appears to be a Margarita, and the look of surprise on his face only makes you laugh more than before, and offer him a complimentary umbrella. He wants to reach for your hand but instead he takes a sip of the cold, fruity liquid, mindful of not poking himself in the eye in front of the girl he's been trying to date for two months.

For two entire months.

"I have to go to the back now and bring another box of supplies, so I guess I'll see you later?"

"You and me, Saturday"

Honestly at this point, he has tried to ask you out so many times that he doesn't even know how to phrase the invitation anymore. And right on cue, you once again roll your eyes at him and shake your head, pieces of your hair falling messily against your neck in a way that seriously puts Atsumu to the test.

"You know the answer to that"

"Yes?"

"No" you deadpan "Atsumu, I'm not going to go out with you"

"But can you please tell me why?" he gets desperate easily, and that's also pretty common. He's been desperate since day one, imagine now that it's been two months of this sweet, sweet torture. "We had great, amazing sex" he says, and waits for your response. When you just stare at him, he feels one of his eyebrows begin to twitch "Right?"

You bite your lip and it's so ridiculously unfair that Atsumu feels that he could scream, throw his baseball cap to the ground and stomp on it, even fight that smug Kageyama if the bastard was around. It's unfair, because he should be the one doing the biting.

He's fine if you do it too, of course. He will let you do anything to him.

"Yes, the sex was great Atsumu"

"Both times"

"It should have been just one night"

"But it was two and both of them were great"

"Yes, they were"

He grunts, straightening his back and pushing back his sunglasses over the bridge of his nose, Margarita long forgotten on the table.

"Then why do you keep saying no? Why are we havin' this conversation when we could be doin' somethin' much more fun like, I don't know, makingl' some good use of the employees only area?"

You sigh, and you look mildly annoyed and kind of tired, but your pink cheeks and you lip still between your lips gives Atsumu enough confidence to try and reach for your arm over the counter.

He grasps the same damn space that you've been putting between the two of you since the last time you were in his bedroom.

"I'm not going to go out with you, Atsumu" you tell him quietly "And there's more to dating than sex, by the way"

"Look, that's not ..."

"Also" you add, quickly turning back to your usual cheery, kind of snarky self and pointing at his face "You really shouldn't be wearing sunglasses indoor"

"That's exactly what I told him before he came to bother you" Osamu's voice says from behind him, and Atsumu can't just turn around and scowl at his brother, because he's busy watching you disappear through the back door, taking with you all his hopes for the night.

...

To be fair, it's not like anyone can blame Atsumu for not knowing what to do. He has never played the role of the heartbroken, unable to move on lover before. And he has a cementery of ghosted lovers to prove his claim. What is he meant to do when the tables turn on him?

A warning would have been nice.

"But I did warn you" Kita reminds him, a couple of days after the first time you two sleep together. Atsumu's complaining about something Kiyoomi said, something that made him so mad because it actually reminded him of you (and he has this epiphany while talking with his former Capitan over the phone about how yes, he hasn't stopped thinking about you at all), and then all just goes down hill from there.

"What do you mean you warned me? No you didn't!"

"Yes, I did" Kita remains unfazed under the damn of emotions Atsumu seems to have become "I told you not to sleep with one of your brother's employees"

"That's not a fuckin' warnin'. That's a challenge!" Atsumu stands up from the sofa to frantically pace around the living room, and settles for glaring at the wall, since Kita is on the other side of the country "A warnin' would have been: Hey! Don't mess around with this girl or she's gonna trap you forever"

"That's..." Kita pauses, and Atsumu can hear him standing up as well "Actually the most romantic thing I've ever heard you say"

...

It was supposed to be just one night. You were cute and funny and he was slightly annoyed at the fact that you didn't immediately gushed about his volleyball career when you two first met, wich only served to fuel his interest on you.

It was supposed to be just one single night of fun, because you had casually bumped into each other in a bar and hey, you were even cuter when you were away from the bar and all those liquor bottles.

It was supposed to be just one night... but then it was two, and now Atsumu's sitting at the back of that same bar, completely mistified by how you dance and laugh and say something to a guy that's too close to you.

He takes an aggresive sip of his beer.

"Are you okay?" Hinata yells at him, trying to make himself heard over the music. When Atsumu doesn't even acknowledges him, the Spiker turns to Adrian for help. "Is he okay?"

Atsumu ignores the exchange, wich gets interrumpted by something Kiyoomi says but it's impossible to hear due to the music and his mask, tightly secured over his lips. But Atsumu doesn't cares. He instead slides closer to the edge of his seat, grabbing onto his beer bottle for dear life.

"Wait, you're spying her?" Hinata yells again, and Atsumu finally looks at him "That's why we're here?"

"Who are you even talkin' about?"

"You'd have to be stupid to not know. Everyone can see that you've been obsessively fixated on the same person since we arrived" Kiyoomi says, even tho Atsumu can only catch some words "Anyway, I'm leaving"

Kiyoomi stands and so does the rest of the group, Atsumu included. But in his case, to move straight to the dance floor and not to the nearest exit. He's vaguely aware of Bokuto telling him something, but he's too busy trying to avoid bumping into other people as he makes a beeline towards you.

You look less surprised than what you should.

"Hey! Are you following me?" you ask, smiling at him. The mascara on your right eye is a bit smudged and your hair is a mess but he still thinks you look so gorgeous he could cry.

Or maybe he's already crying, because you stop dancing and give him a worried look.

"Are you okay?"

"Not really, no"

"Hey love, is this guy bothering you?" the guy you were dancing with suddenly asks, and Atsumu would swell with pride at the simple fact that not only he's taller but also much more handsome, but standing up and practically running to the dance floor has only served to suddenly and painstakingly remind him that he's had twelve beers, so he only manages to feel a slight twinge of drunken happiness.

"We've talked about this, Kai" you say, and he's so grateful for the fact that you to take a step towards him, away from this Kai, that he could, once again, start weeping for real this time. He can faintly hear his brother's voice in the back of his head, telling someone else that Atsumu's actually a very big, blonde crybaby "Don't call me love, or any of that. It makes me uncomfortable"

"Yeah, Kai" Atsumu adds, thinking he's shaking his head to clear his thoughts, when in reality he's moving his entire body, and spilling the beer he dragged with him all over "Don't fuckin' call her that"

"Or what?"

There's a split of a second in wich Atsumu thinks this random guy is actually going to fight him, and he gets into what he feels is an adequate fight stance, never mind the frantic voice of Hinata coming from somewhere behind him, or the fact that his PR team tends to become an actual nightmare every time he does something that can remotely compromise his brand.

Fuck it all. It's been two months and if he has to fight a guy to defend your honor and get you to look at him (actually look at him, like you did that night where he kissed every inch of your body), then so be it.

But then the guy called Kai takes one big step towards him, then a smaller one, and then his face changes from angry to surprised and then to childish glee.

"Oh my god, dude!" he yells, making Atsumu blink out of his stupor "You're Atsumu Miya! From the MSBY Black Jackals!"

"What?" Atsumu asks, and then someone is tugging him from behind, and he sees you moving out of the corner of his eye and tries to reach you, but only manages to grab your jacket, spilling the rest of his beer on the fabric as well.

"I think I'm in love with you, you know?" he slurs, and your eyes widen in surprise. He's not sure if it's because of his confession, or because of the drink all over your jacket, so he tries to salvage the situation by letting go of your clothes and smiling a little "It's alright. I have a lot of money, I can send it to clean for you"

"Here! Sign here!" his newfound fan insists, pulling up his shirt to reveal an MSBY Jackals t-shirt "Oh man. This is amazing! I'm such a big fan! I don't go anywhere without my MSBY Black Jackals t-shirt!"

But it's not like Atsumu would have signed anything anyway. Even if he hadn't passed out at that exact same moment.

...

"You threw up on him" Hinata is explaining to him as he enters his brother's restaurant, sunglasses off this time "Twice. And then you also threw up on the taxi we put you on. The driver called us from your phone and told us. We had to pay him"

"I'll pay you all back" Atsumu says, lingering by the door. He soon has to make some space for a couple to come inside, and so he ends up standing on one side, nervously scanning the room "It's not that big of a deal anyway. This things just happen"

"Sakusa says that you're dead to him"

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever" he sees his brother coming out of the kitchen and clears his throat, debating if talking to him first, but then quickly deciding that it's better if he just stops being such a coward and goes straight to where he knows you are "I'll talk to Omi later"

"He doesn't wants to talk to you"

... Except that you're not there. The bar is empty and the blender is not even where you always put it. He leans over the counter and doesn't see any glasses, and all the bottles on the wall seem to be half empty, and there's not enough of them to give a proper service.

Osamu arrives by his side at the same time that dread starts to slowly consume him.

"She doesn't work here anymore, so you can just stop pesterin' me around here"

"What?"

"Are you deaf? I said she doesn't work here anymore"

Atsumu whips around in a flash to glare at his brother, standing by his side, and very much unimpressed by his reaction.

"Why? What happened?"

Osamu shrugs. He takes a quick look at the bar and then at the towel in his hands "She found another job. It's goin' to be hard without her, not gonna lie. She was very good. And responsable"

"She was the damn best!" Atsumu yells, and after getting a couple of surprised looks, switches to aggresive whispering "Why did you let her go?"

"What did you even wanted me to do? Tell her that she had to stay to keep dealin' with my dumb brother?"

Atsumu feels as if he's letting all the air he has in his body go with the sigh he gives after his brother's question. He's tired and hangover and worst of all, very much kind of in love with a woman he slept with two times. Two months ago.

He racks his brain for answers as his brother turns around to leave him to his missery. The easy answer to his feelings could be the sex, but it's been two months and you haven't been together again.

And somehow, that would be totally fine, if he could at least spent more time with you.

Because you're funny, and you crack the best jokes when you're busy polishing glasses that don't really need to be polished. And you're pretty, and your eyes shine in a way that does serious stuffs to the way he perceives the world.

You're also hot, of course, and he would snicker to himself if the wet smack of his brother's towel against his face wouldn't have him spluttering.

"The hell was that for?" he asks, confused, and now smelling like a wet rice ball.

"Do you want her number?"

...

He would have liked to rehears something, but his life is a chaotic mess since you're around, and he might as well start to deal with that fact. So when you (miraculously) agree to meet and actually invite him to your house, he's so excited and nervous at the same time that he starts talking as soon as you open the door, and doesn't stops even when you move to let him pass and he doesn't bulges, rooted to his place and focused on his unrehearsed apology.

"And I wasn't followin' you! I've just bein' goin' to that bar every weekend for a while now. We met there, so I've been goin' to drink and hang with the guys"

"Because we met there?" you ask, expression unreadable, and Atsumu has to use every amount of strength he has inside him to resist the urge to slam his head against the open door.

"Yes but also because it's a nice bar. I wasn't goin' there only because it's the place where we..." he tries to sigh and take some air at the same time, so he only manages to get himself in a coughing fit "Look" he speaks again, now teary eyed and with a sore throat "I'm really sorry, alright? I'll get out of your hair and just leave you alone. I just... well... you don't have to quit your job"

At that you laugh, and you start small but suddenly you're laughing out loud and Atsumu thinks that you would probably bent down holding your stomach and cackling like a mad woman if you hadn't caught sight of his horrified and confused look.

"I didn't quit Onigiri's Miya because of you, Atsumu" you say once you're calmer, but still having to wipe some wetness around your eyes "I've been saving money to open my own coffee shop for a while, and now I can finally do it. I want to be a barista, not a bartender"

Oh.

Oh well, that's nice. At least he didn't drive you out of your own job. That's a half win.

"That's... great for you"

"It's not a millionaire contract that would allow me to clean my jacket of any spilled drink" you teasingly add, wiggling your eyebrows in a way that shouldn't be considered as sexy as Atsumu actually thinks it looks "But it's a start. A small place of my own. A place where I can chase my own dream. Your brother started small as well, and look at him now"

"You know, I actually love coffee" Atsumu says, immediately forgetting his previous words "I drink coffee a lot. I could be like, your first client"

"Oh, really? I thought you were going to get out of my hair"

"Yeah... well..."

You laugh again, and the way you stand up on your tiptoes and leave a kiss on his cheek feels almost surreal.

Because it's been two months of poorly disguised and one sided longing.

Or at least that's what Atsumu thought.

"I wasn't going to date you while working for your brother, you idiot" you tell him, playfully smacking him on the chest "It's bad enough that I slept with you"

"Twice" he feels the need to add, just to say something that makes him feel like this is actually happening, and it's not just his still intoxicated brain playing tricks on him.

"Yeah, twice"

"So you were just..." he starts, has to stop to process everything right and then speak again, a mix of emotions (and beer from the night before) making him a bit light headed "Did you actually liked me back all this time and didn't said anythin'?"

"I'm a professional" you say, trying to look serious, but completely failing "And you also have kind of a reputation. I had to make sure..."

"Who told you that?"

"Osamu" you admit, and take a step back as he takes one forward, finally moving away from the door "And the magazines. Everyone knows you're a heartbreaker"

"Oh, yeah? Well..." Atsumu licks his lips, pausing for a moment to quickly locate what he thinks is the open door to your bedroom. He can carry you there no problem. Then he closes the entrance door with his left foot "I'm gonna show you exactly what I am"

The answer is yours. But you made him wait two months. Maybe this time, he will be the one holding himself back.

(He tells you the next morning)

This work belongs to my Midnights: Sleepless stories 🕰️ collection, a series of reader insert fics based on the album Midnight, by Taylor Swift, with characters from Haikyuu, Tokyo Revengers and Blue Lock. ✨

You can still send an ask if there's any character you would like to see in any particular song ✨

Next one on the collection - are we falling like snow on the beach?

#atsumu miya #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu x female reader #atsumu x y/n #hq atsumu #atsumu fanfic #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu reader insert #based on a taylor swift song #midnights the album #midnights taylor swift #haikyuu taylor swift #kiyoomi sakusa #hinata shoyo #osamu miya #miya twins

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seokiloquy · 1 year

Text

Wine and Movie Pt 1 - Ushijima Wakatoshi

Au: Regular (timeskip)

Tags/Warnings: GN! Reader, swearing? I can’t remember

Word Count: 2.9k

Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3

Yawning, you slugged into the gym a few minutes later than planned, and dropped yourself onto the bench next to the coach. Suzaku brushed his goatee, taking his eyes off the gym floor to give you a curious look from the corner of his eye.

“Bad date?” he asked.

“Yep.”

“I’m sorry, Kid. That sucks. You were looking forward to it.”

“Yep.”

He waited, lips pinched together until he couldn’t wait any longer. “What happened?”

“Ugh!” You sunk into the bench, back hunching until you fully curled over your lap. “He was just. So much? Too little? Everything and nothing at all?”

“How… descriptive.”

You groaned again, lifting your head to see the team walk in together with their training gear on and made their way to one of the trainers who was waiting in the centre of the gym to lead their warm-ups. You lowered your voice as they made a large circle, and some of the towering players settled into their spots a couple of steps in front of you.

“Okay, first, we agreed to see a movie. And I thought, ‘sounds good. I love movies; it’ll give us something to discuss afterwards.’ I got to choose the film and, of course, I went with that murder movie, right? He slept through it! And when I asked what he thought, he said ‘it’s no DC cinematic classic.’ So I already wanted to leave, but at that point, we had already gotten to dinner.” You breathed, trying to whisper as you noticed the players glancing over their shoulders to get an ear on what you were saying. “He spent the whole time whining about his ex, who for the record, sounded lovely, and how she didn’t take care of him enough. Honestly, that woman was a saint for putting up with him for more than five hours. He didn’t even listen to a word I said. Gosh, why do I even bother dating men? Do you have a daughter, Coach Suzaku?”

“I do, but she’s got some anger issues and spends most of her time whining. She’s also four, so, ya know.”

You huffed a laugh, earning a pat on the back from the man. “I should just get off dating apps. It‘s done nothing but cause me headaches.”

“I think you need to meet someone the old-fashioned way. You know, I met my wife in college. There was a campus party, and I threw up in the toilet while she was crying in the bathtub.”

You gave him a horrified look. “And she went for that?”

“After laughing at me, ya.”

You chuckled, imagining Suzaku with his arms wrapped around a toilet bowl and acidic chucks falling from his nose, being laughed at by a woman with messy hair and tear-stained cheeks that was curled up in the nearby tub. “She sounds wonderful.”

“Oh, she is. But my point still stands. You need to connect with someone naturally instead of searching for it.”

“I’ll give it a shot.”

“Just don’t drink too much.”

“Haha, I’ll stick with wine.”

You both turned back to the team.

“Hey, Toshi, face the team. There’s nothing important going on over here.”

Ushijima, who had twisted his spine around while stretching, had his sharp eyes zeroed in on you and the coach and missed the call for him to turn onto the next stretch. His eyes darted back to the team, and he eagerly switched his position to keep up with the rest.

You chuckled. “That’s unusual.”

“It is. But not surprising. He’ll get lost in thought if he gets distracted.”

“Him? Distracted from volleyball?” Ushijima was one of the youngest on the team, having been recruited right before graduating high school, but managed to outrun everyone in terms of focus. Everyone on the team was a volleyball geek. The V league seemed only to recruit those who would dedicate their lives to the sport. But even with the stiff competition, Ushijima had struck you as someone who relied on the sport like a lifeline, not the other way around. He relied on volleyball. Volleyball didn’t rely on him. Any deviation was a distraction from his life path.

“Hard to believe, isn’t it? Can’t be a bad thing, though. He’ll wear himself thin if he spends all his free time practising. Which reminds me, I’m going to have to confiscate the gym key from the youngsters.”

You saw that we pinched his eyes toward Kageyama and Hoshiyumi, who were next to Ushijima’s right.

“Like that will stop them from booking time at a local gym.”

Suzaku kissed his teeth. “You’re right…. It’s better to have them here. Here, where you can watch them.” he slapped your shoulder.

“Seriously? Look. I may like my job, but hanging out in a sweat-filled gym is not my idea of a good time.”

“Better than going on another bad date, though. Right?”

“I guess.”

“Good.” He grinned, looking back at the team. “Toshi! Pay attention.”

Sighing, you watched the three as they spent their time off doing exactly what they’d do if it were their time on. Hoshiumi would throw the ball into the air, Kageyama would toss it, and then Hoshiumi would spike it past Ushijima if he managed, and then they rotated.

“You know, we all have to go to dinner in an hour, right? You should all shower and get dressed.”

Kageyama and Hoshiyumi were vocal in their desire to keep playing, glaring your way as they harrumphed. Ushijima, both as you expected and, to your shock, turned to you with his usual stoic expression and nodded before walking to the showers.

“Did he just?” You looked toward the other two, who mirrored your expression. “Nevermind. Just follow him, you stink, and it's an industry dinner.”

Being the one with the driver's licence and a car, it was you that got to drive the damp-haired men to the venue. Making it just in time, you ushered the three to your teams tables and got them in their seats before the MC of the night began talking. It was a rush, and after getting Kageyama and Hoshiumi onto one table and Ushijima to the other, there wasn’t enough time to run to the back of the room where the rest of the staff was.

“Welcome, everyone!” the MC started, as you placed a crumpled handkerchief onto Ushijima’s lap. “We are in for a long night, filled with interviews, conversations and food. Staff will be coming around with your orders of food and drink, we ask that you please stay seated until the end of recording and eating. Let’s get this show on the road.”

“Ah shit,” you cursed. The cameras were rolling, and you’d have to run across them or crawl and risk disrupting the event either way. You ducked as the hanging camera swung overhead.

“Sit here,” Ushijima said in his usual low tone, while pulling out the chair next to him.

“I can’t do that! I’m not a player, people will notice!”

“Not enough people will care.”

“If you saw a stranger sitting with your team, wouldn’t you be a little curious or concerned?”

He didn't answer, looking off for a moment before meeting your eyes. “Sit.”

“Ushijima, you’re as stubborn as a boulder.” You slowly rose to your feet, still hunching as to not get higher than everyone’s heads. “I shouldn’t sit here.”

Taking your hand, gently, by the tips of your fingers, he pulled you down onto the plush chair just as you landed the camera swung back over your head. “Sit.”

“You’re like a toddler.”

“Not a boulder?”

“You can be both.”

“I like the boulder.”

“Fine. A boulder.”

As much as you enjoyed the world of volleyball, you found yourself zoned out as the MC called various coaches and players to the stand. Sadly, you couldn’t converse too much or move anywhere; you were glued to your chair until the first commercial break came. But, just as you were about to sneak away—

“Excuse me, I don’t have your order. Are you in the wrong seat?” A waitress had arrived, dawning a completely black outfit that made her blend into the background.

“I am, I was just about to move to my seat.”

“No, no. I’ll bring your food here, we want everyone to stay where they are until the end. What was your name? I need it so I can find your order.”

You hunched back into the chair, mumbling your name out while fiddling with the table cloth.

“And what would you like to drink?”

“...Red wine?”

“Excellent, I’ll be right back.”

“Great.”

There were a few moments of chatter before Ushijima turned his chair towards you.

“What school did you go to?” He asked.

“Which one? High school or university?”

He paused again, thinking. “Both.”

“Wakutani, then 2 years of Miyagi U.”

“What did you study?”

“Sports science, but I did it really quickly.”

“Hmm.”

Nodding, you waited for a moment before putting out your own question.

“Why are you talking to me? You don’t seem like the type to… idly chat.”

He shrugged with one shoulder. “You seem interesting.”

“Oh.” You blinked at him, fighting down a blush, “I can’t say I’ve been told that before.”

He nodded, “You are interesting. I wanted to talk to you.”

“Thank you,” you choked, trying to find something other than being flustered to focus on.

“You went to Shiratorizawa right? Did you do anything besides volleyball?”

“No… Not unless my teammates took me somewhere. Tendou liked to get dessert.”

You had no idea who Tendou was, but you nodded along hoping something else would come to mind before you got to stuff your faces with food.

“Do you like desserts?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

“I like hayashi rice,” he offered. “It’s not a dessert though. I have to keep myself healthy.”

“It’s okay to treat yourself now and then, but if you prefer healthy foods anyways, then it’s no big deal.”

“Do you like deserts?”

“Umm, sometimes? I like salty things more I think. I always get popcorn when I go to the movies, chips are too loud.”

“Hmm. You like mysteries right?”

The waitress came back, placing your place of food on the table cloth. You smiled at her quickly before turning back to Ushijima.

“I do. Were you listening to me and Coach talk?”

He paused again, “Maybe.”

You laughed, trying to keep your voice down as the MC returned to the stage. “You’re a little stalker.”

“I’m not little.” He huffed.

“I know, that makes it even funnier.” You took a sip of wine. “Do you have a favourite genre of movie?”

“Hmm. Philosophical?”

“Really? I thought you would’ve said sports.”

“I like those too.”

“Figures. Are there any volleyball ones you like?”

“No. They’re all bad. They don't portray volleyball correctly.”

“Ah, so you watch sports you don’t know anything about because you can’t criticize the specifics but can relate to the characters as athletes.”

Ushijima took a breath before nodding. “Ya. Is there a reason why you like mysteries?”

“I like that they make me think. Make me try to solve a puzzle with the same clues the characters have. Really good ones give you the clues without making them too obvious. There’s a balance.”

“Hmm, would you want to see a movie together sometime? Your pick. Maybe have some wine with it?”

“Trying to ask me out already after having one conversation that doesn’t pertain to your physical health.”

“Um.. Sure?” he didn’t seem sure.

You chuckled, shaking your head and hand, dismissing it, before looking at him with a calm smile. “So, wine and a movie?”

Again he paused, then nodded. “Wine and a movie.”

“He’s like… 25? And asked me out for wine and a movie like he's a 40 year old woman.”

Sara, who sat, draped, across your couch gave you a side eyed look. “You love those things.”

“Yes, I do. But it doesn’t mean I can’t be surprised… and a little bit confused.”

“Well, maybe he likes you.”

“He likes volleyball.”

“And paid enough attention to something outside of volleyball to be able to remember something.”

You stopped your pacing, blinking. “Oh shit, you might be right.”

“Oh look at that, I’m right. Once again!”

“I said might be.” You glared over the armrest.

Sara shrugged. “Same difference. So when is this happening.”

“After practice on Monday… He usually stays behind to do extra drills.”

“Oho, you really got him out of his comfort zone.”

You groaned, dropping onto the couch by Sara’s feet, which she immediately placed in your lap. “Why did I agree to this? How did I end up agreeing to this?”

“Hey, it’s not a bad thing. He took note of some of your interests, there’s nothing wrong with appreciating the gesture.”

“The bare minimum really.”

“It’s more than most men can say they do.”

Sighing, you stared at your ceiling, hoping to find a clear thought among the white void. Nothing came and you were left with hearing your heart thumping in your ears.

Ushijima’s home, despite being in a luxury apartment not too far from the training grounds, was like walking into a traditional temple. Somehow, he managed to collect and cater his home to a certain design choice through decorations alone.

You stared at some of the photos in his living room wall. There was a lack of family pictures, maybe one or two, but the majority was made up of candid shots of his mid-air, left arm pulled back as he prepped for a spike, or blurry photos that he definitely didn’t take himself.

“That’s Tendou,” Ushijima said, using the rim of a wine glass to point at the red mass in the corner of one of the photos. “He moves too quickly. Every picture he takes is bad.”

You laughed. “Bad or not, you still hang them up.”

“He did it without my permission.”

Raising a brow, you tilted your head his way. “And yet, you haven’t taken them down.”

Ushijima looked away, heading toward the mats and table that were low to the ground. Any other person would have thought he ignored you, but even a short conversation was enough to let you know that he hadn’t.

“They’re bad photos, but I like them.” He poured the red wine into two glasses, and poured out the chips he had hidden beneath one arm into a bowl. “Hmm, You don’t have to worry about the chips making noise, subtitles are on.”

You smiled. “How considerate. Or are you worried that you won't be able to hear the movie?”

Ushijima just hummed, and sat down on one of the pillows, leaving an invisible invitation on the matching one for you to sit on.

It was your choice of movie, but you had decided on something that hopefully combined both of your interests.

Soul from Pixar.

Combine both of your interests… as little as possible.

Though, to be fair, the movie did have a philosophical side to it, and was about passion, just in music instead of sports. It didn’t have any mystery, which was fine… There’s no reason you had to have your favourite genre included, you had chips and wine.

Not that Ushijima went for the chips at all. More for you. A trade off.

It was odd though. Despite Sara’s claims, it didn’t feel like a date. You both sat on opposite ends of a square table, too far away to think about cuddling up even if there wasn’t a table in your way, sitting silently (as much as the chips would allow) as the movie passed. However, at the odd times you’d glance at Ushijima, you’d see a man, fully wrapped up in the story unfolding in front of him with the lights reflecting in his eyes. Focused, thinking, and certainly not asleep or whining about his ex.

The bag of chips and bowl were completely empty by the time the film ended. Had it not been a monday, the wine would have been too.

As the credits rolled you took your last sip of wine for the night, dipping your head back as the last drop rolled onto your tongue.

“I liked it,” Ushijima said. “I wish I could have seen where 22 went though.”

“Hmm,” you thought aloud, “I think that may be part of the point though. What would have seeing where 22 went served? They found a passion for life, that was the end of their story. At least, the end for this part of it.”

“Ya… It just felt incomplete in a way.”

“Why do you say that?”

Ushijima turned on his pillow, sitting with a straight spine as he faced your slouched posture. You gulped and straighten up.

“There’s so much time that’ll follow that point of the story.”

“Hmm, ya. Well, what do you want to see 22 do?”

“Music? Food maybe.”

You grinned, “I like that idea too. I think food works really well. Maybe a social worker in some way. 22 fell in love with being a person, I feel like it makes sense if they want to help people in some way.”

Ushijima nodded. “Do you want to watch another movie?”

You blinked, glancing at the clock on the wall before thinking it over with a smile, calm as can be. “You know what, sure. You choose this one.”

I don’t know if I should write a second part to this or not… - Bacon

Posted: 26/02/2023

#Ushijima Wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #Haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #x reader #oneshot #oneshots #haikyuu oneshots #haikyuu reader insert #reader insert #aus #haikyuu aus #fluff #haikyu #haikyu x reader #anime x reader #anime

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wake-uptoreality · 2 years

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You sit on his broad back as he does push-ups. You almost jumping up as he tirelessly rams his hands up and down on the floor. You mewl as there is not sight of him finishing. getting bored, doing nothing, But holding his shoulders for support. Feeling your legs numb from sitting on him, you try to get off, but he growls every time you try to escape from him.

"Be a good girl and stay still."

-> SAKUSA, Osamu, IWAIZUMI, daichi, aone, KYOTANI, KAGEYAMA, USHIJIMA.

You are underneath him as he gives you a kiss every time he bends down. He gives you like three kisses in one second as his palms unconsciously move to fell your plump lips on his. He is not going to stop anytime soon as you whine that you have a lot of other things to do, but you are trapped in his arms as his muscular tighs press against your legs.

"My legs feel tired, when you are not underneath them"

-> OIKAWA, atsumu, aran, nishinoya, HINATA, BOKUTO, kita, KOMORI.

You are sitting on his legs giving him an access to freely lift himself up. His shirt is off as you have a chance to stare at his toned-up abs. Your lips are in a kissable way. You wanted him to kiss you while doing his work-out, but he being a jerk wanted you to suffer. As he was lifting his body, he would get too close to your face but before you could kiss each other, he would back away, smirking.

"Greedy, are we?"

-> KUROO, SUNA, matsukawa, semi, TSUKISHIMA, yaku, akaashi, hanamaki.

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krak-jj · 3 months

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stupid. oikawa t. x reader

hard angst!!

sorry if he's ooc. I haven't written for him before so please give me a little wiggle room.

but I got you guys enjoy!

lowercase intended!

"so you're going to play for argentina?" her voice rang through his ears as her cup made its way to her lips. "yeah. i plan on living there after high school." his voice was quiet compared to the thick atmosphere around the two.

"hm" she hummed as she placed her cup down. "i'm not gonna stop you if that's what you want." She shrugged as her eyes met his.

"but by god, you're so fucking stupid for letting me fall for you." the grip on her cup tightened. "bab-" "please dont 'babe' me. it hurts knowing we most likely won't last after high school. i don't want to leave my home. you might, but i don't. and i wish i knew sooner so that this goodbye wouldn't be as hard." She sighed.

"y/n." his eyes looked away from her intense ones. "look at me tooru. at least have the balls to do that."

"You might think i'm being extremely over dramatic. and maybe i am. but please look at it from my perspective. three years. just for you to move across the world. did you really think i would just willing go like 'oh my tooru! of course i'll move to a completely different country and learn a whole new language and leave my friends and family behind because we are sooo ment to be together the rest of our lives!'"

he flinched at her tone of voice as he tried to keep eye contact, but couldn't. "wow. you really thought that. how stupid of you." her voice cracked as she got up. "have a good life tooru."

he didn't even fight it.

"how stupid of me." his voice broke

Masterlist

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teamatsumu · 9 months

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Praise (Atsumu x reader one shot)

Summary: Atsumu won’t stop complimenting you, always telling you how beautiful you are. You think he’s full of crap.

Pairing: Miya Atsumu x reader

Word Count: 1,829

Warnings: Fluff, Suggestive language, swearing

A/N: Okay, first Atsumu one shot, finally. Hopefully yall like it!

Your short huffs and the click, click, click of your heels were the only sounds on the concrete of the parking lot as you made your way to your car. The night air was particularly still today, causing you to build up a sweat within minutes of being outside. You fumbled with your tiny purse to pull out your keys, settling into the driver’s seat before sighing and letting your shoulders slump. You closed your eyes and leaned your head back against the seat, feeling your lips turn into a frown.

This did not go how you thought it would.

Your date was nice enough. He was kind and asked all the right questions. He hummed in all the right places and told you enough about himself and his life to get you intrigued. You were feeling very happy with how the night was progressing. You were sure, positive, that there would be a second date. How could there not? You both were vibing like crazy.

It seems you had completely misread him though.

Right outside the restaurant, just as you were about to suggest you two go for a little walk and continue talking, he had raised a sheepish hand to rub the back of his neck, apologizing that you just weren’t his type. He thought he was being subtle when he looked you up and down as he said it, but you knew what he meant immediately.

He didn’t find you attractive.

If this had been a few years ago, you would’ve been crushed at the thought. But you were no longer the timid girl from high school anymore. You were a grown woman with a good career. Things like this didn’t faze you much now. You were more annoyed than anything else at having wasted your one free night on something like this. Dating wasn’t something you were particularly interested in at this point in your life, not when you had finally started settling in at your job. And the thought that tomorrow at work a certain blond setter would ride your ass until you told him how the date went made you scowl even harder.

Sometimes you wondered if Atsumu had ever heard the word ‘professionalism’ in his life. He sure as hell didn’t show it. Especially when it came to you.

You had joined MSBY as their brand new manager seven months ago. You had been slightly timid at first, and way in over your head, having to manage a V1 Volleyball team right off the bat. Combine that with how hyper some of the members could be, and you had the perfect recipe for chaos. At that time, you hadn’t anticipated that these boys would become some of your closest friends. And you couldn’t have ever dreamed that Miya Atsumu of all people would be the one you’re most fond of.

Atsumu loved to claim that you had caught his eye as soon as he saw you, boasting that he had seen your potential and that you would be sticking with them for a long time. He had been right, of course. MSBY was notorious for going through managers like they were candy. No one stuck around after the first month. Except you, and Atsumu liked to think it was because of him.

True to his nature, he had flirted with you endlessly since you joined the team. If it wasn’t corny one-liners that showed you just how much of a dork he was, it was stupid and sleazy innuendos that made Sakusa groan and glare at him in distaste every time. Nothing deterred Atsumu though. He was hell bent on reminding you that you were the ‘prettiest manager we ever had’. And he thinks it’s because he made you feel so welcome (his words not yours), that you had stuck around for so long.

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that his incessant flirting had actually made things much more difficult for a while.

It was Atsumu who had hyped up the prospect of you going on a date. He had ranted and raved that your date was a ‘lucky son of a bitch’ and how you would blow him away the minute he saw you. He had gone on and on until you were red in the face and scolding him to stop and get back on the court to practice.

You blamed him for your current predicament actually. No matter how much you ignored him or shot him down, his constant compliments had gotten to you. How could they not? You were still human, and Atsumu was, by your own admission, an attractive guy. Him telling you that you look beautiful more or less every day had given you this false confidence in yourself and that’s why you had agreed to go on a date in the first place.

(You knew your reasoning was a stretch. But blaming Atsumu felt good so you went with it.)

Your phone pinged, shaking you from your thoughts. You narrowed your eyes at the phone screen. Speak of the devil.

Miya: How’s it goin’? Ya gettin laid tonite? ;)

You rolled your eyes at the text. Thumbs typing a reply quickly.

You: Make me something to eat. Preferably ramen.

Miya: Aw no :( That bad?

You didn’t reply, putting the car in gear and heading over to your new destination.

……………………………..

A steaming bowl of beef noodles waited for you at the Miya residence, which you slurped down even though you had dinner not even an hour ago. Atsumu puttered around in the kitchen behind you as you half-focused on whatever volleyball game he was going through on the TV. You had hiked your dress up to your hips, Atsumu’s gray sweatpants covering your legs. Your hair was pulled into a messy knot on top of your head to keep it off your sweaty neck.

He finally sat down next to you with his own bowl, and the sounds of slurping and gulping overtook the thumps and cheers coming from the screen in front of you. For a minute, you two basked in the silence.

“So what happened?” He asked with a full mouth, voice slightly muffled. His eyes were still focused on the screen before him.

You sighed and chewed. “He said I wasn’t his type.”

Atsumu rolled his eyes at that and made a face. “‘Course yer not. Yer way too much for him ta handle.”

You gave him an offended look. “Huh?”

Atsumu nodded. “I mean, look at ya.” He gestured vaguely with his chopsticks. “And in that dress? Phew.”

You rolled your eyes. “You always do this, Miya. You always say all this mushy crap. This is all your fault.”

That made him pause, wide brown eyes looking at you. “Ha? How is it ma fault? What did I do?”

You glared down at your bowl as you thought of your next words. “You always talk about how beautiful I am,” you cringed. “Saying all these things to make me feel confident. Then I talk to an actual guy and realize you had built me up for nothing.”

Silence filled the space between you two as you stuffed another generous helping of noodles into your mouth, glaring at the TV and trying to ignore Atsumu’s stare on the side of your head as he set his bowl down on the coffee table.

“Okay, first of all, what do ya mean by ‘actual guy’?” He pouted in indignation, crossing his arms. You nearly snorted at the image. “Second, I never lied to ya! Not once! Well-” he stopped abruptly and pursed his lips in thought. “That dress ya wore for Bokuto’s birthday last month was fuckin’ hideous but-”

“Hey!”

“But that’s the dress’s fault, not yers!” He finished loudly. “I mean, ya still looked fuckin’ gorgeous-”

“Stop-” You held a hand up, placing your bowl next to Atsumu’s before frowning at him. “That’s what I’m talking about. Why do you keep doing that?”

He let out a frustrated huff. “Ya think I’m lyin’? Ya think yer not pretty?”

You shrugged. “I mean, I’m okay.”

Atsumu was already shaking his head at you, still scowling, his arms crossed. You trailed off and stared at him. It felt like you were being scolded like a child.

“I wouldn’ lie to ya, Y/N.” He said quietly. “Ya gotta be one of the prettiest girls I’ve ever seen. Like for real.” He ruffled his hair a bit, sighing. “That jerk made ya get all insecure ‘bout yerself. I gotta fix this.”

You could feel your neck heat up at his words, looking back at the TV when the sight of him became too much. This is exactly what annoyed you about Atsumu. He was too blasé about saying this stuff. He came off as so intimate at times, his words crossed so many boundaries. He didn’t even realize how much you were affected by his bold remarks, especially when he was sitting right there before you, in a black tee that stretched just right over his chest, and shorts that showed off his gorgeous thighs-

You closed your eyes and breathed deep and thinking about his words. How the hell was he going to “fix” this?

You nearly yelped out loud when you felt something soft make contact with your lips, eyes popping open to comprehend that Atsumu, your annoying, volleyball-playing, smirking, rowdy, smoking hot coworker was kissing you, placing a hand behind your head so you wouldn’t pull away, moving his lips over yours so deliciously it made your breath stutter and your eyelids flutter shut, until you were giving in and kissing him back. Your heart was beating a mile a minute, feeling yourself melt when Atsumu thumbed at the corner of your jaw, tilting your head so his mouth fit against you better. Your hands remained frozen in your lap, unable to move in case it broke the spell over you two. You let him guide the kiss, reveling in how soft his lips felt and how good he smelled so up close.

It felt like it was over too soon when you separated with a last, loud smooching sound that made your cheeks flush. Your breaths mingled, Atsumu not pulling away more than a few inches. You looked into his wide brown eyes, saw how his pupils dilated, the red that was creeping up from his neck to his ears.

“Ya believe me now?” He muttered, staring directly at your lips with a look so heated that it made your insides squirm. You hummed.

“I think,” you sighed. “I think I’m going to need a lot more convincing.”

He smirked at that, a teasing glint entering his eyes as his lips met yours again, harder this time, more sure, pushing forward until you were falling back into the plush cushion beneath you and his massive frame was hovering over you, the sounds of the TV completely ignored in the background.

…………………………….

Let me know what you think! Request are open x

#haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu one shot #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu fanfiction #miya atsumu fic #miya atsumu imagine #miya atsumu fluff #atsumu one shot #haikyuu one shot #haikyuu reader insert #reader insert #haikyuu x reader

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omiyagiri · 2 years

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Atsumu "My Girlfriend Of Five Years Keeps Friendzoning Me And I'm At My Limit" Miya

pairing: atsumu miya x f!reader cw: implied sexual content - not explicit word count: 1.2k

He notices it the first time it happens. You're perched on his lap, legs bracketing his hips as his thighs support your weight. It's a clumsy round of kissing, a teasing lower lip bite, some tongue, your hands sliding down the frontside of his shirt, then you say the words: "God, I'm so glad you're my best friend."

Any will Atsumu has to continue this, to take this moment into the next step where you're sprawled out under him with the sheets bunched in your fists and toes curling into the mattress is gone. Its nonexistence leaves him feeling hollow, the thought isn't even hot to him anymore.

"What the fuck," he says, "what the fuck? Huh? Friend?"

You have the audacity to sleepily crack open your eyes and brush your fingertips against the jut of his cheekbone. "Best friend."

He's now facing a mortal quandary where he's questioning his reason for being. Why is he here? What were the last five years for? He stares down at you, speechless.

Then there's the second instance.

You and Osamu are making a tray of egg custards in his kitchen. Atsumu's lounging on the couch, because fuck no he's not going to tempt the possibility of burning his fingers. His fingers that are the single most important part of his body. His fingers that are the deciding factor of the momentum for every game.

"These are coming out so good, Osamu," you say.

Atsumu sneaks a furtive peek over his shoulder. He sees you leaning against the island countertop, eyes alight with a youthful kind of joy which makes him want to puke but because it's stupidly adorable. Osamu seems to think the same, because he's making that affectionately funny face.

"Glad ya think so," he says, "they could be better, though. Definitely added one too many eggs."

"More protein," you say, no teasing lilt in your voice. Genuinely, it appears as if you were proud of royally fucking up the recipe. Atsumu rolls his eyes. Five years he's had to deal with your infectiously positive attitude towards everything.

"Yup, somethin' you need more of. Is your best friend still inhalin' the food off your plate when I'm not around?"

What—"'Samu!" Atsumu cries out as his attention is yanked fully from the television screen. "You're doin' it, too!?"

Both you and Osamu don't pay him any mind.

"Mhm, my best friend is always stealing morsels from me. It's alright, though. I'm always cooking extra in order to adhere to his huge caloric intake. The professional volleyball player diet and all that."

Osamu clicks his tongue, shakes his head, and slots one hand against his hip. "I'll be sure to send ya off with some ingredients I don't need anymore. For yer best friend."

"Gosh, I'd really appreciate that," you say.

The two of you share a laugh, leaving Atsumu groping for any semblance of sanity. He's losing it. He's fallen into an alternate timeline.

It happens again, a third, fourth, fifth, sixth time.

A scene: Atsumu letting you take the last seat on the train as he grips one of the handles. Or as he likes to call it—The oh-shit handle. Because any turbulence, any abrupt halt has him clinging onto it for dear life as you're sitting there, one leg crossed over the other, fucking snoozing.

"Are ya really gonna sleep while I'm the one who's sufferin' here on yer behalf?" he says.

It wakes you up, and you mumble something incoherent as you rub your eyes. "You can sit in my lap, Atsumu. I don't mind."

"I think I'll fuckin' flattin' ya like a pancake." He rolls his eyes. "But thanks."

You shake your head and pout. "No, no. I insist. What are friends for?"

Atsumu's high-pitched whine of frustration is drowned by the train once again screeching to an ear-deafening halt.

Another scene: Atsumu is watching you roll around on the bed, burrito-fying yourself with the blankets as you wear his old Inarizaki sweatshirt. His hands cradle a game controller, but he's hit the pause button a full three minutes ago. Which is three minutes too long. He hates the sickly sweet things you make him feel. It's five years and still the way you paw at the sheets in mid-sleep and drool on the pillow—Which by the way, absolutely disgusting, has him weak.

And because he's an asshole, he doesn't let things that make him feel weak last long. He stretches over and pokes at your cheek.

"Yer an ugly sleeper," he says when you crack open an eye.

"I'm more beautiful than you," is what you say around the dryness of your tongue.

Atsumu rubs his thumb across the small streak of spit on the side of your mouth. You groan and thwack his hand away.

"Gross," you say, finally giving in and blushing, "don't do that."

"What were you sayin' about bein' more beautiful than me? You're the one who's droolin' like a baby in her sleep."

"And I'll drool all over your sweatshirt, too."

He shrugs. He couldn't give less of a shit if he tried. It doesn't fit him anymore. "Go ahead. I'll even buy ya an Inarizaki bib since yer also a messy eater as you are a sleeper."

You try to flip him off but he grabs your wrist and kisses your knuckles.

"Gross," you say again, "best friends shouldn't kiss each other."

"I'll do more than that," he says, finally pushing himself over you and caging you under him. "I'll show you how good of a 'best friend' I can be."

You crack a fond smile, and do that stomach-clenching thing where you brush his bangs aside and trace circles against his collarbone with your thumb.

"Alright," you say, "show me."

Final scene:

The two of you are a pile of limbs. Atsumu's still panting, overexertion gnawing on his muscles. You’re an anchoring weight against his chest, splayed out over him, one side of your face smushed against the base of his neck.

"You're cute," you say.

"Cute? That's a shitty compliment." He's a fucking liar. He's knee-weak for you. It's a disease rotting him inside-out.

"You're cute," you say again, this time blowing in his ear. He shivers. "My cute little—"

"If you say best friend I will push you off the bed," he says.

"—My cute little boyfriend."

He grits his teeth and squeezes you tight. "I hate you."

"You love me more than you hate me," you say.

"Yeah and I hate myself for loving you more than I hate you."

You press a hand against his cheek. It's shaking because you're suppressing your laughter. "I'll love you more than you hate yourself for loving me more than you hate me."

He can't muster the three cells in his brain to fire their synapses in response. The only thing he can do is latch onto you, feeling you laugh against him and the noise being the one thing to guide him into a deep, comfortable sleep.

by wobbles

1K notes · View notes

mambalae-s · 9 months

Text

wc: 7.8k words

cw: milf! reader; reader is described as a plus sized black woman; masturbation (m); public masturbation (m); no penetrative sex; fantasizing — throat fucking; one (1) mention of a daddy kink; one sided sexual tension; wakatoshi is a simp; he’s down bad; let me know if i’m forgetting anything!

notes from author: so, i’d wound myself up for an entire month working on this and i still had so much i wanted to write for it despite it already being nearly 8,000 words long…! i’ll certainly try my best to make a second part for this, one i’ll want to write from our reader’s experience too! this, truthfully, wasn’t the first idea for my milf reader idea, but i think it’s so much better, and i’m happy with the plot i settled with! i hope that, at least even a little bit, it’ll be satisfying for you to read, too!

it’s amidst a blistering summer’s day when you move into the house next to his.

there’s blood pumping beneath ushijima wakatoshi’s skin and boiling beneath each heavy breath that wafts from his swollen lips. his feet pound against the paved roads as he jogs at a steady pace, and he feels his fibers tinge with a static as they blaze beneath the sweltering noon’s heat, a familiar ache ebbing deep within his muscles and crawling through his veins. the sweat clinging to his brow burns like a toxin that pours out through every cell, his heart beating with the drums that pound through his airpods and teach him a dance he’d learned many times before. iwaizumi had told him once that running could be as addictive as any drug, and here, beneath clear blue skies and through heavy draws of air, wakatoshi considers that maybe he was right.

he takes a deep breath as he mounds the slight hill that leads to his house, and abruptly, his pace halts, chest heaving still as his eyes take to the moving truck parked out in front of the house next to his; a house that had, for a while, remained empty, certainly gathering dust and stale air after the elderly couple had moved away nearly a month long past. it had been easy for him to forget all about the vacant space, what with him dedicating his days to training and months of traveling for practice and tournaments, and it seems that, within that time, someone’s finally purchased it and were moving in today.

he’d been gone long enough for the hard working men to have finished their work, wakatoshi muses, as he watches them pack away their trollies and begin making to either door of their truck. though, as he stands there, he feels puzzled, confused and seeking reason to something he can’t find. there’s nothing spectacular about seeing these two men readying to go about their day, nothing that should keep wakatoshi’s feet planted and his laboured breaths stilling beneath the wind, yet he finds himself waiting, lulled into a curiosity that he can’t explain as he watches the break lights glow red and listens to the engine roaring to life.

and then, he sees you.

you, who wears a gorgeous sundress, deep purple fabric woven like a tapestry of flowers that blossom over a body of voluptuous curves. he finds himself enraptured by your brown skin that shines beneath the scorching sun like smoky quartz, by the sweat that lines your brow as he likens the glistening sight of it to beautiful jewels that shine around your smile and set you alight with the luster of ten thousand diamonds. the strands of your black hair, they sheen on the painting of the midnight sky; dark and elegantly falling around your round face and pouring like a river of obsidian and black tourmaline across your busty chest.

“thank you so much once again,” your voice comes through with fluency in his mother tongue, the japanese you speak perhaps a little regional… osaka, he considers, or kyoto? your voice sings on the breathlessness of intense labour, and wakatoshi deludes himself into thinking that the exhaustion on your sultry voice mirrors the intensely beating heart that stirs in his chest with a restlessness that he doesn’t attribute to his run. “seriously, you two… i can’t tell you how much i appreciate coming all this way!”

the older men you speak to are friendly in their departure, cheering with bright smiles that resemble yours in their warmth and openness as they drive down the deep slope, passing him by the side and far from his mind as he loses his focus on you. suddenly, the fog that clouds his mind doesn’t come from a sweltering summer’s day, but instead from the picture of you, hot and bothered and eyes squeezed shut as you try to wave cool air over your wet skin. the daze that locks around his tongue is the one of your sheen-covered lips as they part and let pass the heavy breaths that sit on your chest, of the rise and fall of your large breasts and the bit of tummy that he can see atop your curves. that daze that consumes wakatoshi, he tells it to lust — a venom that crawls through his bloodstream and tinges his tongue with desire unchecked, so that he becomes consumed by you and the deceptively innocent visage that burns itself into his skin. and suddenly, wakatoshi feels too damn hot, his heart beats so hard he fears it’ll leap right from his throat, and his pants are too damn tight.

oh. fuck… how embarrassing could it be to get a hard on in front of your new neighbour? he didn’t think he’d ever have to ponder such a specific scenario, and he certainly isn’t happy to have a taste of it first hand. even worse, what is he supposed to do when the very same neighbour turns her eyes to him and catches him staring like some demented creep? wakatoshi’s face burns with a heat that far precedes the blazing sun and he wishes the earth would open up and swallow him whole as his mouth starts to taste of sand and parchment paper. really, he shames himself, how appallingly embarrassing!

just like a guilty child, he averts his eyes as his blood boils across his neck. his feet act on their own, guided by the desire to disappear as quickly as he can with hurried steps and trembling hands that are more than eager to open his front door and seal him behind their sanctuary, and he feels even more guilt for awkwardly avoiding the kind yet confused smile you’d sent his way as you watched the large man scurry up his front steps. the protruding bulge that pokes out from his trousers is so painfully obvious, almost aching behind its confines as he prays that you hadn’t had enough time to notice it. and even then, behind his barrier of safety, he’s left with a problem — a very big one that powders his nose red and takes his breath on laboured climbs.

huffing, wakatoshi trudges to the kitchen, desperately searching his refrigerator for the coldest bottle of water he can find and starts chugging right away. arctic drops spill between his lips and down his throat, though the chill does nothing to dissipate the heat coursing beneath his skin and inside his pants. he doesn’t intend to slam the now half empty bottle down on his counter the way he does, but he loses control and water spills over, and his olive eyes only glare at the puddle that drips over on his marbled floor with something of disdain and increasing frustration.

for all that was holy, he can’t stop thinking of you. even now, with cold water sticking to his skin and poured over his bare feet, wakatoshi cannot get this image of you out of his mind and is rendered powerless to the aching boner that refuses to go away. within just one moment, you’ve seeped into his mind like a parasite that morphs and festers on sin and fornication, plaguing him with your large breasts and plump thighs that sheened with sweat and poured out from beneath your sundress. it’s a hard battle he faces with himself, feeling morally disgusted by the thoughts he finds himself with, and all about a stranger, no less. there’s no way he could be acting so depraved, right? is he a man so starved that the mere sight of an admittedly attractive woman could send him reeling like a damn teenage boy?

once more, wakatoshi heaves a heavy sigh, slouching for a moment with hands clenching the edge of his black stone counter before he rises to his full height. it’ll do him good to at least clean up this spill, and perhaps, he thinks, he aught to keep himself busy — surely then, he’ll forget all about you, and this glaring problem beneath his trousers will forget you too.

thankfully, it’s easier than he’d had hoped to fill the hours of his day. after taking care of his spill, wakatoshi takes to his home gym and continues working out till the late evening, when he showers and prepares himself to settle in with a cup of white wine and a book that he’d bought himself a while back, though only just recently had the time to begin. it’s only so rare for him to be able to enjoy slow days like this between training and volleyball tournaments, and he finds himself at peace with this lull in his schedule. finally, he feels relaxed and at ease, and his stressful situation from the afternoon earlier is far from his mind, until there’s a knock at his front door, and his heart lurches in his chest.

apprehensive, he turns his jade coloured eyes to the smoky glass panels by his entrance, and he feels his tongue turn heavy when he sees you waiting. for a moment, he hopes that you’ll give up if he doesn’t answer, though he immediately feels a bit guilty for thinking that. you’re only wanting to greet your new neighbour and make a good first impression, he considers, and it certainly isn’t any fault of yours the situation he’d found himself in earlier that day. you’re entirely blameless, and it’s really him who apparently needs to mature and grow a bit more than he’d thought. taking a long sip from his glass of chardonnay, wakatoshi builds himself on liquid courage and meets you by his doorway — though there’s no amount of wine that could’ve possibly prepared him for the sight that greets him once he opens the door.

you’re here, but you hadn’t come alone. hiding behind each leg are a young boy and girl who look about the same age and share striking resemblance to your own soft features. heads topped by black, wavy curls, with her tied in pigtails and his cut to his shoulders, there’s curiosity in their dark brown eyes as they appraise him, and he feels almost as if they’re judging him with something that he can’t identify. and you, you smile sweetly at him, your lips painted with a clear gloss that shines golden beneath the lights of his entryway’s chandelier.

“i’m sorry for disturbing you so late in the night, mister,” you offer your apology, and wakatoshi can hear more clearly the distinction in your accent that he’d only briefly heard before. now, as he listens attentively, unconsciously taking in the sultriness of your voice as your words flow from your two-toned lips, he’s certain that it really is a kansai dialect. “i’d just wanted to introduce ourselves since we’d just moved into the neighbourhood.” you lift your hands, that he now notices are not empty, to present a beautifully packaged basket with a little pink bow tying it closed. “and we also brought you these as a gift — a thank you gift, kind of! for having us here with you!”

wakatoshi accepts the gift basket from your hands, trying his best not to focus on the way you tuck your hair behind your ears and beam brightly up at him. standing so close, he’s able to notice new things about you that he wishes he didn’t feel so curious about; like the way you style yourself elegantly, your straight black hair parted to the side, curling the smaller hairs surrounding your forehead so that they lay neatly and perfectly brushed to frame your round face, or the fact that you stand several inches shorter than him, perhaps only barely reaching his chest. he wishes he doesn’t take in the clothes you wear and how they fit your beautiful figure, how your white cardigan hangs elegantly over a beige tank top and khaki coloured pants that accentuate your mature body. he tries, not to notice these many things about you, and so hopelessly fails, as he clears his throat and tries to offer you a polite smile that he hopes doesn’t come off as a grimace.

“thank you for being so thoughtful,” he says, and your smile widens, your eyes creasing around your expression as you respectfully bow.

“it’s my pleasure! i really should be thanking you for welcoming us this late!” theres a timidness to your grin as you lift yourself to full standing once more and you bashfully laugh. “it took us a little longer than we thought to prepare all our gift baskets — oh, right!” your eyes widen on a realization, “my name’s (l/n) (f/n), and these two here,” gesturing to the two children behind you, you bend down a bit to rest a hand on either of their backs. “this here is asahi, and this is makoto.”

the two young children, with your encouragement, bow their heads in greeting to him, with the boy — asahi — quickly returning to hide behind your leg, while makoto continues to stare at him, now with her curiosity unbridled and what looks like an eagerness that roars beneath her brown eyes.

he looks back up at you and offers a bow of his own, ducking his head with the basket clutched to his chest. “my name’s ushijima wakatoshi,” he says his name, and immediately, he hears two simultaneous gasps from the children by your feet. though, at least in this moment, he decides not to ponder too much on the expression. “thank you for introducing yourselves and for bringing a gift.”

you wave your hand in a ‘shoo shoo’ motion and shake your head. “no need for thanks, ushijima-san,” you hum, “really, it’s nothing much, but i hope you’ll be able to find good use for them— ”

“are you a volleyball player?”

suddenly, the little girl, makoto, blurts out a question that causes your eyes to widen and catches him off guard as you both turn your attention to her. she continues to stare up at him, as if awaiting his answer despite you reaching for her hand to gently pull her back. “makoto!” you exhale, a bit surprised, it seemed, as if you hadn’t expected her to ask something like that. though wakatoshi, he doesn’t take any issue at all with her question, and he simply nods his head, once more offering the most polite of smiles he can muster.

“that’s right. i play volleyball.”

you seem to recognize something within the awe-filled gazes of the two children that he doesn’t, because before either of them can get a word out, you’re hurriedly reaching for their hands and making your way down the stairs. “thanks so much again, mr. ushijima!” you call back to him with one free hand, leaving the man standing stunned inside his doorway as you walk away from him. “let’s get along well from now on!” when you think you’re far enough, he thinks he hears your voice taking to astonishment as the little girl whines a complaint — “but mom, we saw him on tv! it’s really him!” and your response heavily pouring with your dialect as you lightly scold her for blurting out so suddenly.

he’s left here, basket in his hand as he hears several gears creaking to their abrupt stops and clanking as they fall apart in his mind. mom? she’d said mom, hadn’t she? with ghostly steps that are far too quiet for a man of his stature, wakatoshi shuffles to his expansive living room where he sets your gift atop his clear glass coffee table, right next to his glass of wine and his book, and collapses into the black suede sofa behind him. you’re a mother? the guilt that consumes him tastes bitter and threatens to crawl up his throat. he sits, hands folded above his lips as his elbows dig into his thighs, and he stays this way for one minute, then two, constantly replaying the sound of your daughter calling you mom. your daughter, your daughter and son, you have a daughter and a son who both call you mom—

wearily, wakatoshi’s eyes glaze over your cutely packaged gift and straight to the glass of wine that sits like a pretty temptation, and cruelly, he thinks of how you are just the same. a beautiful and painfully enticing temptation that will surely render him helpless if he gets any more involved with you. he groans, hissing under his breath as he reaches for the glass and stands up. it’ll serve him better to retire for the night, he concedes, a hand nursing the growing migraine that sits on either side of his head. he’ll finish his glass and read his book peacefully in bed, and for the second time this day, wakatoshi will forget all about you.

except, he doesn’t.

amidst his waking dreams and long night, forgetting you is impossible. how can he, when you come to him here in his bed, the straps of your purple dress falling from your brown shoulders and your breasts pouring out from the thin material? how is wakatoshi supposed to forget you when in his dreams, you tease him with the likeness of a vixen, when you lift the edges of your skirt to show him just how plump and fleshy your thighs and ass are, whispering “do you wish to touch me, mr. ushijima?” in that sultry, silk-like voice of yours. he dreams of the way your eyes would roll back into your skull if he brushes his fingers over that sweet spot between your legs, if his tongue traces lines over your panties until your knees buck and you fall right on top of him. in his dreams, he wants you so much that it’s an ache he needs to fill, until he’s unconsciously fucking his mattress and squeezing his pillows with a vice. his breathing is laboured and tasting of honey as he begs you yes, yes, please, i need you… need you so bad, please i need to touch you—

his climax rocks his body like an earthquake and tears him away from sleep with a jolt, his chest heaving as sweat clings to his skin and his eyes, disoriented, search his dark room for your image before they fall to the soiled mess leaking through his boxers and between his thighs. his damn cock is twitching, still painfully sensitive, and wakatoshi stutters through a gasp as his hips buck uncontrollably, as if chasing some phantom feeling, cum still continuing to spurt from the angry red tip. he reels from pure shock and a bit of morbid amazement as he reflects on his dream, and as he recalls those dirty visuals his mind managed to conjure, he lets out a loud, frustrated cry and falls flat against his mattress. really, is this the man he is? a perverted fool who has inappropriate thoughts and dreams about another man’s wife?

he curses himself, and curses his mind too, as he begrudgingly swings his legs over the edge of his california king and. sleep evades him now, he certainly fears reliving that dream that felt far too realistic, your touches, the taste of you — all far too real that it leaves him shaken. one hand lifts to brush his sweat-matted hair away from his forehead as his eyes disdainfully behold the mess he’s left all over his dark sheets, where his semen sits in a large puddle while there are still drops running down his thighs, and he unwillingly thinks about you once more. those sounds that your voice made in his dream, all those dirty songs and cries of his name that you’d uttered, the way your skin felt so supple and soft beneath his hands as he felt you up and spread your legs apart—

a surprised moan causes wakatoshi to slap a hand around his mouth as his cock twitches in his soiled boxers, still very hard and leaking through the now cold material. no, he decides, he really won’t be able to fall asleep again — not like this, at least. but wakatoshi has practice in the morning, and within all his years of playing volleyball, he’d never gone a night without proper sleep. for the umpteenth time, he groans helplessly, flopping back down on the edge of his bed. he glares at his boner, wishing it would just peacefully deflate and that, really this time, he could forget you and just go back to bed; and again, once again, he sighs, and submits himself to a decision he’s certain that he’ll immediately curse himself for as he pulls out his cock and wraps his fist around it.

he hates himself for it, but it’s so easy for him to build a perfect fantasy of you. one where you’re sitting prettily on your knees and batting those doe-brown eyes up at him through your lashes. his hand squeezes softly around his erection and at first, he moves slowly, choking back each heavy breath of air that threatens to burst through tightly pursed lips. but god, he thinks of the way you’d tease him, slowly tracing your mouth over the tip and leaving a trail of saliva and strawberry flavoured lip-gloss while your manicured nails would trace tantalizingly lines down his thighs. his hips buck impatiently into his own fist and his chest heaves with soft grunts that become more uninhibited as he imagines you finally slipping him into your warm mouth and his very spirit crumbles on the lust that consumes him.

“does that feel good, mr. ushijima?” you’d beseech him, so eager to please as you’d trace your tongue across his leaking slit, collecting the drops of precum that poured out and smear it around your lips. and he’d be just as breathless as he feels in his fantasy, trying and failing to conceal each gasp that evades him as he nods, “yes.. yes, your mouth feels so fucking good.” he’d force you to swallow him whole, pushing your head down to the base until you’d choke and your eyes would water as he’d throw his head back — without his will, his hand moves faster around his cock and fills his dark bedroom with filthy, sloppy noises. “take every inch, don’t you fucking dare spit it out. that’s it, shit…just like that. swallow it all the way down.”

he thinks of how fleshy and warm the back of your throat would feel as you’d gag around him and dig your nails into his thigh, struggling to take even a single breath through your nostrils as he’d mercilessly fuck your face. he’d drag you off him suddenly and slap his cock against those messy lips, and he’d get to admire the way you’d fall apart as your mouth lolls open as if begging him to put it back in. “ohh, such a greedy little slut, aren’t you?” he’d taunt, and a particularly loud, wanton moan rises from his chest as he imagines the way you’d use your hands all while staring up at him. you’d be the very picture of salaciousnes as your hands wrap around his smeared length, teasing the underside of him with your tongue and groaning through your own arousal. he imagines how he’d wrap his hand around your throat as he’d tower over you; he’d have your face pressed right up to his stomach while he’d reach down and grab a handful of your breasts, reeling at how soft and squishy they’d feel pouring between his already large hands before he’d twist your nipples, and you’d whine like a helpless nymph from how sensitive your body would become. “go on, then.” he’d hum, and he wouldn’t give you even a second to prepare before he’d have you choking around his length, groaning as spit would bubble around his erection and pour from your nostrils. “use those pretty little lips of yours. mhm, let daddy feel your tongue on his dick while he fucks your throat.”

and its as he pictures the way your eyes would roll into the back of your head, cheeks puffed and stuffed full as you whine around him that, for the second time that night, wakatoshi cums into his fist. pleasure sears through his teeth and down his spine as spurts of semen explode from his slit and he forgets himself on the suddenness of his orgasm. “shit… ahh— aahhhh, shit!” the spots in his vision and the heat that consumes him from his bone and to his skin, it all coalescences on a pleasure he’d never once felt in his thirty-three years of living. his entire body trembles and his cock twitches against his abs, cum splashing against his sweat-sheened skin and dripping over his skin like hot, molten lava. the afterglow of pleasure is forsaken for the adrenaline that courses through his blood and turns the taste of his tongue to metals untold.

through his bliss, wakatoshi reaches clarity, and is overwhelmed by an intense wave of disgust and repulsion as he glares at his cock so feebly slapping against his stomach; it’s still hard, the damn thing, and every cell in his body craves ravenously for more, more, more…but he refuses. absolutely refuses to repeat what he’d just done. for christ’s sake, you are a mother — a wife to someone who you return to each night, who gets to hold you and touch you, to whom you may give your heart and gentle affections to. tonight had been a mistake, he tells himself; an irrational lapse in judgement, and come morning — he means it this time, really! truthfully! — he’ll forget all about this sin, and forget about you. you’ll be nothing more than a new neighbour who moved in with your family, and your interactions will be few and far between, enough that he’ll be forgiven for the immorality that he’d let himself fall to.

but the devil, oh, the devil, bless his soul, he has his tricks, and he loves to play.

wakatoshi hasn’t at all forgotten about the previous night, but he pretends that he has. on the cusp of dawn, when the rising sun sinks her warm fingers through his tousled hair, he focuses on his beating heart and his laboured breath as he jogs through the park and back through his gated community. he pretends that he didn’t jerk off to his new neighbour and envision her doing the dirtiest things to him, and he almost succeeds.

almost.

he nearly swears when he walks out of his front door the next morning and bumps into you at the earliest hours of dawn. there you are, where you shouldn’t be — not this early in the morning before the sun had risen, when he’d made sure to leave early enough that he would’ve avoided this situation exactly. it’s summer, isn’t it? why, wakatoshi wonders, had you woken up so early? could he really be do unlucky? he sees you and your two children, and he’s now certain that they must be twins, and you’re too busy fixing their backpacks on their backs and fussing over their hair and faces to even notice him awkwardly frozen by his doorstep.

“you both have everything you need, right?” your voice reaches him on tones of faint worry and anxiousness as you lean down over your children, unwittingly showing off your rack for him to see between the button up blouse you wear. even from where he stands, it’s such a clear picture that he feels his head spin as his eyes remain glued there. “you’ve got your toothbrushes and toothpaste? lotion? shampoo and conditioner?”

your son, asahi, tries to escape your busy hands, though it doesn’t dissuade you very much it seems. “mama, we already have everything!” he grumbles with a slight pout, “we’ll be alright.”

a quiet sigh falls from your lips as, finally, you relent, kneeling down to hug your two children. “i know you will be, asahi,” you whisper softly before pressing a kiss to each of their foreheads. “promise me you’ll both be good and have lots of fun, alright? can you send me a text when you get there safely?” both the twins nod their head yes before placing a kiss on either of your cheeks, and wakatoshi finds the sight endearing as he sees your smile brighten on tenderness and motherly affection. a part of him feels as if he’s intruding on what should be a family’s private and treasured moment, something precious that should only be seen by your husband and not the creepy neighbour next door. his stomach turns in on itself and, like a demon he can’t escape, guilt and shame crawl over his neck.

“bye mama!” makoto is the first one to hop on to her bike, waving her hand excitedly and full of energy despite the early morning, while her twin follows in a far less eager manner as he waves at you too. “i love you!”

“i love you mama..!”

“i love you both, you two!” now standing at full height, you wave both your hands as both asahi and makoto start to pedal away. “make sure to have lots of fun!”

before long, both your children have gone down the hill and you’re left alone with a wistful smile, and wakatoshi finds himself desperate to go before you have the chance to notice him standing. his normally sure feet fail him on a moment as he stumbles in his hurriedness, and in his attempt to steady himself, his hands fall slack and drop the very large, very metal he’d bottle been carrying with a loud clang! that causes your head to whip around. he meets your gaze, shame bubbling in his gut and he wishes that lightning would just fall from the sky and take him from his misery. what happened to avoiding you as best as he could? he wonders, what happened to leaving at the crack of dawn and being on his way before he’d need to lay eyes on you again so soon after last night?

wakatoshi is so embarrassed that he could die.

“ah! good morning, mr. ushijima.” you, oblivious to his plight, greet him politely, bowing your head. he notices the way you absentmindedly pull your cardigan over your sheer night dress, the chill from the morning mist having caused you to shiver a little. your nipples have turned hard and poke through the thin white material, and are very, very visible without him needing to try and see them. he purses his lips, sighs through his nostrils and averts his gaze, focusing instead on retrieving his traitorous waterbottle and praying that his grey slacks do well to hide the problem that now begins to grow beneath them.

“good morning, mrs. (l/n.)”

he tries to focus on his feet as he descends down his front steps, ensuring that he doesn’t lose his footing once more rather than looking at you. and yet, he can’t help the awkwardness that he feels as every muscle in his body seems to have tensed up despite him having gone jogging to warm himself up. you remain none the wiser, something he’s thankful for, as he hopes and prays that he can get past you and on his way before you notice his strange demeanour.

“do you normally get up this early?” you ask in a polite attempt at making small talk, to which wakatoshi offers you a slight nod as he gives you just enough of his attention.

“yes,” and, admittedly, he’s also curious, and he returns a question against his better judgement. “do you?”

laughter bubbles up from your lips as you shake your head. “goodness, no!” you chime playfully, lifting your watch to see the hour; 5:39. “it’s too early for me, but asahi and makoto are about to start summer camp for their club — i’d only been seeing them off today.”

he offers an understanding nod, similarly recalling the days of his youth where he’d also attended summer camps during elementary through high school. right now, he considers would be a perfect time to end this conversation and see himself away now that he’s heard what he wanted from you, but something in him urges him to stay, to talk to you more and spend some time with you. he knows he’s not the best at small talk, is all too aware that his social skills are terrible, at their worst, incredibly abysmal, but he wants to try — against his better moment, and he’s reminding himself all the while that you’re a mother and a married woman, but despite that, he wants to talk more with you. perhaps, and it’s a delusion that he forces himself to believe, he’d want to be friendly with you. it’ll certainly be easier than perpetually avoiding you when you’d done nothing wrong to him, after all.

“are you—” fuck, his voice sounds scratchy as he clears his throat, blush creeping over his cheeks. “are you um… headed back to bed then?”

as you ponder his question, he gets to take in your morning appearance. your hair’s been brushed and tied back with a little white bow, and your lips look air brushed and as soft as rose petals. hugging your sides beneath your cardigan, you shiver, and wakatoshi notices the way you slightly lean back and forth on your heels. “i guess it’d be a waste to try and sleep again now,” you hum with your gaze turned towards the horizon, where the sun begins to peak over the far off mountain on soft blue touched by golden hues. “i’ll need to be ready for work in a few hours.” you turn your gaze to him with a cheekish grin, and his heart skips a beat. “why not start my morning now, right?”

oh. oh, this is bad. for the second time, waktoshi tries to clear his throat with a hand covering his mouth and averts his eyes from your beaming face. “i’ll let you get to it then,” he says, his voice sounding so small and timid to him that he feels his mind reeling and his tongue turning heavy. “enjoy the rest of your morning, ms. (l/n).”

“thank you, ushijima-san! you do the same, okay?” for a second, he lets his eyes find yours, and they dazzle him within just that moment that he has to look away. he leaves as you re-enter your home, and it’s the only thing he can do to squeeze the straps of his bag to rid himself of the jittery feeling racking through his spine. his heart beats too loudly and he feels dazed, as if he walks on clouds and forgets how to even breathe.

he doesn’t— no, he can’t be; his feet break from the slow pace as he breaks into a jog, each muscle within him burning cold and begging for release from the thoughts in his mind. there’s no way… he doesn’t like you, does he? why else would he have dreamt of you the way he had? why else would he feel so nervous and timid when you stand face to face? the morning dew tastes like liquid mercury and sets through his veins on a violent rush as he runs, as far away from you as he can get, hoping to immediately expel you from his thoughts, to escape this hold that you seem to have locked around him.

he laughs at himself, helpless and bewildered; is he really nothing more than a foolish boy? at thirty-something years old, ushijima wakatoshi is developing a crush on his married neighbour — even the mere notion to him is so adamantly ridiculous that he could throw himself off a bridge. he feels embarrassed, utterly and completely mortified, and it’s for his sake that he tries to push the notion far, far away, so that, at least for the day, he wouldn’t have to think about it. he suppresses these budding epiphanies in the face of his teammates, who tease him for being seven minutes later than he usually is and tries to ignore the fact that it’s all because he’d stayed and talked with you. he tries to forget about you through the drills and practice rounds, lets the heavy beating of his heart turn its turmoil into adrenaline and sweat that seeps through his thin shirt. wakatoshi falls into routine and this time, certainly, this time, he’s moved on. the feelings that soaked through his core on the early morning’s dawn have disappeared and melted away on summer’s blistering heat, and he thinks that finally, he can let go of that ghost that’s haunted him from the night until morn.

but noon, as it always does, succeeds the dawn, and there you are.

the burn in his muscles turns to a seething fire that he fears will consume him right where he stands, amidst the people around him going about their days while he remains glued in place. his heart, oh the poor thing, it beats on the fallings of a thousand horses and threatens to rip right from between his rips and spill itself out on the pavement. wakatoshi wants to run, he wants to take flight and escape into the burning sun, but his feet fail him on the jolts that run through his aching muscles when your eyes, oh, he imagines he sees the world in them, find his amidst the sea that threatens to swallow him whole.

“ah? mr. ushjimima!” your voice calls out to him a surprise he thinks he feels on tenfold as you approach the man. god, how many hours has it been, even? he’d only just seen you this morning, isn’t it too soon for him to be put through this never-ending crisis? he doesn’t feel as if he’s ready, as if he can look you in the eyes while trying to force away the memories of last night, or the turbulent mess that dances and ties red knots around his throbbing heart. “i didn’t expect to see you here too.”

neither did i, he thinks helplessly, though he offers a single words that sounds choked up in his throat, “practice.”

“oh!” you chime, your eyes gazing behind him to where the large sports gym stays only so many paces behind — if he really wants, wakatoshi could easily pretend that he has to return if only to escape from you, but he doesn’t — for some incomprehensible reason, his tongue betrays him with the phantom taste of you.

“well,” you smile, and laughter spills from your lips as you tuck your hair behind your ear and meet his eyes from behind your lashes. “i didn’t think i’d see you again so soon — and at my place of work, no less.”

i didn’t think i would, either, wakatoshi thinks to himself, and then your words rewind in his mind and everything halts. your place of work? the question spills from his lips before he can even think to stop it. “you work here?”

you nod with a hum, gesturing with your palm to the academic buildings that span the expansive lot. “i teach vocal composition and contemporary piano courses here.”

“ah.” of course. wakatoshi is bewildered; how unlucky could he be? for the married woman he fantasized about to be working at the very same university that his team frequents for volleyball practice? he takes a moment to curse the heavens and the cruel gods within them because certainly, they must find humour in his agony.

like lasers, wakatoshi’s eyes become too hyperfocused on you all at once. there’s sweat gleaming down your neck and dipping between your breasts and trailing wet marks down your v-line as you, absentmindedly, fan at yourself. he takes in the way your eyes scrunch together and your lips part with a heavy breath, a sigh that, to his ears, sounds lewd and filthy, and on that single breath, his world runs like a viscous furnace. he’s like a moth drawn to each and every detail about you that swells on the summer’s heat and as he stands here, everything consumes him — the slight pout of your full, puffy lips, the display of your breasts that look so big that they could pop out of your low button up dress at any second, those big, doe-like eyes of yours that are so close to rolling back beneath the agonizing heat — every bit of you accords into a vision of immeasurable pleasure and lust, and then you look at him, head tilted back and panting ever so slightly, and it’s enough and too much all at the same time.

“it’s awfully hot today, isn’t it, mr. ushijima?”

wakatoshi thinks he’ll lose his mind.

something breaks like a faucet and pours scalding water all over himself as he feels his grey sweats becoming too tight, too confining, just like the situation he finds himself in and he decides that now would be the perfect time to leave. “i have to head back.” he nearly stutters over his abrupt sentence, and he sees the slightly startled look that comes over your sun kissed face. again, he feels guilty for fooling you, for lying straight to those innocently pure eyes that are none the wiser of the effects you have on him. in a pathetic attempt that he doubts you’ll even believe, he tries to dissuade you with a simple, yet suffocated, “practice is gonna start soon.”

“oh, of course!” his lie seems to work, and wakatoshi hopes that the relief that locks inside his throat isn’t too obvious as you turn your feet to the opposite direction. “i didn’t mean to hold you up, i’m so sorry!”

“no, it’s alright.” it’s not, but what is he supposed to say? “i’m sure you’ll need to prepare for your next class soon.”

you giggle, hiding your smile behind your hand, and your eyes crinkle at the corners. “you’re right. it was a very nice surprise to see you again, mr. ushijima!”

as he makes his pathetic escape, wakatoshi prays that you don’t find him weird after this, but perhaps if you’d have any inclination of what he’d done, what he’s about to do, would you look at him in disgust? of course you would — he asks himself, how could you not? his feet can’t take him to the secluded gym fast enough as he forsakes everything about himself, purely fueled now by this burning desire that’s carnal in its awakening. the bathroom door locks and the bolt slams with a loud click, the ac languidly blowing through this confined area not nearly enough to quell the fire blazing across his skin. it’s immoral and utterly deprived what he considers doing, and the shame he feels is bound to be an eternal scar. yet in this moment, with his cock so painfully hard and pressing uncomfortably against his thigh, leaking so much precum that it stains through the thick material of his shorts, wakatoshi doesn’t care — not for the ungodliness of the act he’ll commit, nor for the consequences that could follow him. not now, at least. as he releases his throbbing member from its binds and wraps his fists around it, it’s the farthest thing from his mind as he thinks about you. again, it’s you.

the wind in his lungs is knocked out from his mouth as he rapidly pumps his dick. in an instant, the empty bathroom is filled with the squelching noises that bounce and echo off the tiled walls, only contested by his laboured breaths and groans. his knees threaten to lose their ground, and he desperately clutches the cold edge of the sink, the chill consuming his palm almost jarring to the aggressive heat that pours all through him. the image of you with your head tilted towards the sky, of your lips hanging open on salacious cries of his name as he envisions you on top of him, it all drives him to the brink of insanity.

wakatoshi thinks of your body in that tight button up dress blue dress. he thinks of how elegant and put together you looked, the picture perfect woman, and how he wants to tear apart only the top pins open and let your breasts fall out so that he could take them between his lips. how would you sound, he wondered, if he rolled your nipples between his teeth, sucked on them with his tongue until they’d turn hard and perky? would you cry out his name just like you always do? would that sweet voice of yours sing out on torrential pleasure as you’d call out to him, your thighs squeezing around his waist while your hips buck and wriggle over his cock? that innocent façade you wear, how quickly could he make you abandon all reason for desire, until you begged him with your words of honey for him to destroy you?

his fantasy falls apart and rips through him like a comet as cum explodes from his throbbing member and spills through his fingers, ever so narrowly missing his pants and spurting out on the tiled floors. it’s non-stop, this horrible, horrible mess that keeps on growing, his body jolting and knees feeling weak and he struggles to hold himself up because he can’t stop coming, so consumed in his fantasy that the moans he fought so hard to contain now ring freely inside the empty bathroom as his hand continues to milk every drop that jolts out of him. you’re the only thing in his mind, consuming him with hellfire as pleasure winds him up and tears him apart over and over again, and he knows he needs to stop, he’s being too loud, too careless, he could get caught, but god, does this taboo feel so good that he loses control. his depraved mind wonders on you catching him, cumming all over his hands like a depraved beast, all because of you?

there’s a daze that overcomes wakatoshi, heat fading to a warmth that fights for some kind of structure to hold on to as he, breathlessly, leans over the sink. his eyes look down between his legs, the length of his cock still twitching in his palm and cum smeared around it and webbing along his fingers. it doesn’t yet come to him, the reality of what he’s done, and its awakening is slow and steady, until it crashes all around him with the last wisps of adrenaline trickling out of his system. for a long time, he stares at his hands, at the mess smeared in his palm and all over his pants, and he meets his stare in his reflection. he stares, but doesn’t comprehend as a minute becomes two, and then five, and when it’s been far beyond ten, his body flushes over with red-hot embarrassment as he clenches his teeth and drops his head.

wakatoshi, filled with shame, wishes he could throw himself into the sun.

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