#head empty miya atsumu only

[sunaluv]

more "come get your man"❗❗ with some more haikyuu boys maybe but honestly? whoever you want 🙏

i got u 😉

part 1 here

pairings: osamu, atsumu, kuroo

OSAMU

onigiri miya was due to close in the next two minutes. you watched your boyfriend close up the counter from your spot on the stool. you liked sitting in when his shop was empty like this, it felt kinda…domestic.

it triggered your thoughts on the future with the hotter twin (in your opinion), you could see yourself walking down the alter to meet him, eating on the floors of your unfurnished home, him standing behind you whilst you rocked your child to sleep—

“hey samu what should i do with these!” you almost rolled your eyes at the voice shouting from the kitchen.

osamu had explained to you how he hired one of his friends from high school to work for him as a favour. she had just finished getting her degree and was looking for work in the area.

you didn’t mind, you were secure in your relationship so there was no reason to be pissed. that was until you had met her and introduced yourself to her as his girlfriend. like a switch had flipped, she instantly started to openly show her hatred for you behind sugar coated insults and not so subtle faces she made only when your boyfriend was out of sight.

you watched osamu’s chest expand in a deep breath. he ran his fingers through his disheveled hair before flipping his cap back on, pecking your temple before heading to the back. “i’ll go see what she wants then we’ll leave, ‘kay?”

you nodded and packed your bag, leaving your space clear and waiting by the counter for your man.

a whole five minutes had passed. you haven’t heard anything which was a sign that you should go investigate, given that girls record.

“…i thought we had a rule for customers showing up before closing time.” a hushed voice whispered.

“we do, there’s no customers here.”

“so who’s still sat out front, you always do this sam—”

ahem.

two faces looked to your spot at the door opening. one looking guilty, one relieved.

“you ready to go samu?” you asked sweetly. “it’s been five minutes and it’s movie night, you know i’m dying to catch up on our franchise.” you not so subtly bragged.

he breathed out through a chuckle. “of course baby, sorry for the hold up. i’m done here anyways.” he walked towards you, missing the dropped jaw of his employee.

you wrapped your arm around his waist before you left, not before smirking at the red-faced girl who was shaking in anger? sadness? embarrassment? you didn’t care.

your shoulders dropped at the chime of the bell followed by the nights breeze as you began your comfortably silent walk home.

“you’re cute when you stake your claim on me ya know?” osamu flicked your forehead.

“shaddap.” you retorted. “if she doesn’t understand boundaries i’ll set them.”

ATSUMU

atsumu was a textbook example of a frat boy. the parties, the girls, the popularity, the girls.

the only stereotype he’s not playing into is dating the leader of the girls sorority house, and some people felt like he’s doing it all wrong.

“omg hi! welcome to—” the cheery voice dripped upon seeing you at the door. “the boys house, who do you know here?”

the girl you recognised as the sorority house leader shamelessly eyes you up and down, twirling the ends of her blonde hair.

if she was here, the rest of the girls were too. they did everything as a culty pack: traveling, partying and even dating. you always thought it was weird how they were all paired with a frat boy, but you never said anything. maybe to them at least.

they obviously hated you for being a rock in their river.

“i’m here for atsumu,” your brow quirked.

her face hardened before plastering into a plastic smile.

“sorry ya just missed him! maybe if you go to—”

“BABY IS THAT YOU!?” a loud, excited voice belonging to your boyfriend shouted.

looking over her shoulder, you watched his blonde locks fly with the wind as he shoved past the girl who let out a disheartened gasp, and picked you up before picking you up and twirling you around.

“i missed you so much,” his soft lips continuously pressed against your face before pouring all his emotion into one last kiss on your lips.

“i missed you too tsum,” you giggled “i was only gone a week though.”

“a week to long! come i have so much to catch you up on.”

again ignoring the fuming girl who had watched the whole interaction, he damn near dragged you up the stairs past all his frat bros who you made sure to shout a greeting at as you passed.

you could hear the rest of the girls from the sorority comforting the girl who was now crying, talkin bout ‘he’ll come around, you two are destined to be together. but you didn’t care, you knew atsumu knew about his rep as a frat bro and he has explained to you about how much he doesn’t care about the ‘dumb stereotypes’ and ‘he likes what he likes, and thats you’.

“you know she likes you right?”

“does she, i thought the only reason she wants me that bad is so their matchup can be completed…”

“that’s part of it, but i feel like she genuinely likes you…” you trailed.

“hey, hey,” he held your cheeks tuning your focus on him. “i don’t care about all that okay? i’m yours and yours alone”

you nodded, placing your hands over his.

“now,” he pulled out his phone going straight to the photos app “let me show ya all you’ve missed.”

KUROO

“tetsuro stopppp,” the girl who had been partnered with your boyfriend for a science project whacked his arm playfully. “omg girl tell your boyfriend to stop.”

you looked at her, then him, then back at her. “stop being a bitch tetsuro.” you played into her antics, drawing out his name like she did.

“not like that, you don’t need to be mean. it was literally a joke.” she mumbled.

kuroo’s eyes met your rolling ones across the table as he shrugged.

“so what are you guys doing after this,” she asked the both of you, but stared at kuroo.

you had explained how you were going to the mall after, so they should probably finish up so you can make it soon.

“you’re going on a date? that’s so cuuuute, there’s actually this really cute place we saw together when—”

“i’ll be right back. toilet.” kuroo stated tensely, sending you an apologetic look as he saw your panicked expression. the both of you knew what her intentions were.

she watched him leave, all the way until the toilet door closed then she turned to you. “can i be real with you a sec, have a heart to heart you know as a fellow sister.”

she didn’t let you respond before she spoke out. “i highkey think tetsu deserves better, he seems really tense around you and i know your dating or whatever but i feel like i could treat him better. i know him.”

woahwoahwoahwhat.

“no.”

“no?”

“no!” you took a deep breath in, before calling her name. “i know you like him, you haven’t even respected me or him enough to hide it. but if you really loved him or knew him, you would know how uncomfortable he feels with you openly flirting with him while he’s in a committed relationship.”

your words hit her like a truck. “you’re not listening to me,” she reached for your hands across the table which you retracted before she could reach. “he needs someone like me, i’m not trying to diss you but you dress kinda bland, your not in many classes together, he doesn’t even talk about you all that often.”

“i do when you overstep, but otherwise i’m just trying to do my work and leave.”

she turned around to see her dear tetsu, arms folded, hurt look on his face. you knew he didn’t like confrontation, so he must have been feeling a strong type of way for him to talk like this.

“tetsu—”

“kuroo.”

“tetsuro,” she stood up placing an arm on his arm which made him step back. “please just come to me, you know we’ll be good together too…”

noticing your boyfriends drastically increased discomfort, you stepped in. “i think you’ve done enough,” you put yourself between the two of them.

wordlessly, you took his larger hand in yours and left the library. after checking up on him, the two of you decided to have a home date instead.

“thanks for stepping in by the way” his voice came out small.

you squeezed his hand. “anything for you tetsu”

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #hq x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu!! #hq drabbles #atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu fic #atsumu fluff #atsumu x you #osamu x y/n #osamu x reader #osamu miya x reader #osamu fluff #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x y/n #kuroo x reader #kuroo angst #kuroo tetsuro x you

[sassycheesecake]

Osamu Miya x wife!Reader "The Green-Eyed Monster"

“What’s he doin’ here?” A very tired Osamu irritably asks, as he spots his twin brother bawling his eyes out in front of you on the dining table.

You turn to your husband with an apologetic look on your face.

“Tsumu’s girlfriend dumped him because he was moving too fast into the relationship for her liking.” You explain.

Osamu’s eyes find his brother’s slumped figure over the table, sighing heavily before mentioning you to follow him into your shared bedroom with a motion of his head.

“Atsumu, I will be right back okay?” You assure him, feeling bad that he barely acknowledges your words, his empty gaze with red eyes trained on his hot chocolate mug that you previously prepared for him.

Walking into the direction of your bedroom, you see Osamu already starting to undress out of his uniform, turning to you, as you walk in and close the door.

“(Y/N) this is now the third time he came over cuz some chick dumped ‘im. And it’s only been five months. Don’t let ‘im in every time just cuz he’s my brother and ya feel bad for ‘im.” Putting his dirty clothes in the hamper, he walks toward the closet, picking out fresh clothes to put on after his shower.

“I know you don’t like it when he comes over unannounced but Samu, I can’t help but try to cheer him up. You know that he has trouble maintaining friends and we live closest to him.”

Osamu sighs at your statement, being tired after a full day at his restaurant is making him more irritated than usual.

“I can’t even remember the last time we had sum time ta ourselves (Y/N). He’s always here, almost hoggin’ all of yer attention just cuz some meaningless fling decided ta dump his stupid ass.” His tone starts to get angry, taking his clothes to walk into the direction of the bathroom to take a shower.

Reflecting his words, you start to get a bit angry as well.

“Well what do you want me to do Osamu? Slam the door in his face? If I remember correctly when we first started dating, YOU were the one worried that Atsumu wouldn’t approve of me and NOW you’re telling me he is ‘hogging all of my attention’?! What are you? 5?”

Ignoring you, he walks past you and slams the door of the bathroom a little bit and you soon hear the shower running.

‘Sigh, the famous Miya temper.’

Rubbing your temples, you walk back into the kitchen to see Atsumu putting his mug into the sink, grabbing his jacket from the chair with a blank expression.

“You’re leaving already? Do you want to stay over?” You ask in a quiet voice.

He shakes his head, looking at you with a hurting expression.

“No. Wouldn’t wanna hog yer attention for more than necessary.”

So he heard your argument.

Before you can retort anything, a loud booming noise interrupts you first, along with a heavy pattern of rain against your windows.

The sudden noise makes you flinch and Atsumu looks outside to see the horrible weather.

Looking at the time, it’s already past 11 p.m.

“Come on Atsumu, I think it’s better if you stay over. Don’t mind what Osamu said, he’s just tired after work. It’s late and the weather is horrible. Just stay in the guest room, I don’t feel comfortable sending you on your way in this weather.” You try to convince him.

The blonde shrugs, very quietly saying ‘okay’ that you can barely hear it.

Stepping down to the familiar direction of the guest bedroom, Atsumu steps inside and you follow him in.

The Setter doesn’t even undress, just walks to the bed and lays down on it to stare at the ceiling.

You sit down on the side of the bed, talking to him in an almost motherly gentle voice.

“Atsumu don’t take what Osamu said too hard, you know how he is when he is extremely tired. And about that girl, I know it’s not my place to say but don’t you think you should heal properly first before jumping into the next relationship?”

The sandy-blond turns to his side with his back now facing you.

Sighing in defeat, you begin to get up when his rough voice interrupts your actions.

“(Y/N), do you think I will ever find someone like you and Samu found each other?”

Halting your actions, you sit down again.

“Well, I am sure you will find your soulmate eventually. I mean with me and Samu, we just met and it immediately clicked.” You smile as you recall the funny way you and Osamu met.

You were driving in your car on your way to work to ‘Colors Of The Wind’, which is a local art shop that sells art equipment and all different colors in different utensils.

Singing along to ‘River’ by Ed Sheeran and Eminem, you don’t see a spider slowly making its way over your dashboard, not having a care in the world.

When you are about to change the song, you see the little creature of hell getting closer to you.

Screaming in fear, you move your steering wheel, crashing right into a dark gray car, whose owner has the same metallic eyes and even darker hair.

Having a small fight over the damage, you explained to the good-looking stranger that you screamed over a spider and he laughed so hard that he had tears in his eyes.

Exchanging numbers to the repair of the damage, you stayed in contact and here you are today. Married for three amazing years already.

“Tomorrow will be a better day, okay? How about I make you some gohan along with yakizakana?” You suggest to Atsumu before you leave him be.

“Will ya also make yer vanilla puddin’?” The Setter mumbles back with a little gleam in his eyes when he turns a bit to watch you.

Giggling at his request like a shy little kid asking for his favorite ice cream, you agree to make your vanilla pudding as well that he loves so much.

“Good night Tsumu, try to sleep a little bit.”

“Night (Y/N).”

Leaving the room, you close the door and put the dishes in the dishwasher before returning to your bedroom where you know Osamu will be.

Slowly opening the door, you see your husband leaning against the headboard, a small frown decorates his usual carefree face.

When you enter, he starts talking without looking at you.

“Can ya sit down please?”

Following his request, you lay in bed with him, leaning against the headboard with your shoulder, so you face him sideways.

Taking a deep breath, he looks at you with deep apologetic eyes and also a small hint of hurt.

“Baby I’m sorry for the way I was actin’ earlier. It was childish and unfair. I love ya so much and I love the way yer takin’ care of my brother.”

“Then why were you so upset?” You ask in confusion.

Osamu looks away from you with a pout, mumbling something that you couldn’t make out.

You lean a bit closer.

“What was that?”

He turns his face back, staring at the ceiling, saying it again but louder.

“I was jealous over yer attention on ‘im. I had a shit day at work today and I just wanted yer cuddles and kisses. When I saw that scrub in the kitchen, it made me more mad. I shouldn't have let my anger out on ya. ‘M sorry baby.”

Smiling at his words, you come closer to your husband to give him comforting kisses along his cheeks.

Sighing in bliss he lets you do as you please.

Stopping right by his ear, you whisper seductively.

“Want some make up sex and then you can vent to me about your day?”

Osamu turns to you with an excited look, quickly pushing you down to lay on top of you.

Giggling in delight, you let the former Opposite Hitter ravish you half the night.

The next morning

The smell of steamed rice and cooked fish is what rips Atsumu out of his dream of defeating Thanos, stretching his limbs and rubbing his tired face.

Remembering that you cooked for him this morning, he gets up very excited like a kid getting to open Christmas presents early and almost sprints out of the room.

Quickly slamming on the brakes what he sees on the counter, his stomach begins to get nauseous at the open PDA between his twin brother and you.

You’re sitting on the counter and have your legs wrapped around Osamu’s waist, your arms crossed around his neck.

The ravenette’s hands rest on either side of your thighs, lips locked together with yours as your husband passionately makes out with you, unaware of his sandy-blond twin.

“Really? That early in the mornin’? That’s gross.” The Setter says in disgust as he leans against the kitchen frame.

Letting go of you, Osamu turns fully around to look at his brother, with you leaning over his shoulders and his neck to look at Atsumu with a flushed face.

“Well scrub, get yerself a girlfriend or boyfriend, then ya will have this too.”

“Fuck ya and yer happiness, Samu.”

“It ain’t my fault that I have the perfect woman and ya don’t. Yer shitty personality drives them all away.”

“Ya know what ya little shithead-“ you interrupt before it escalates into a physical fight like the last million times.

“Okay, okay enough. Let’s eat together. I am not ready to deal with this without food in my stomach.”

Hopping down from the counter, you see the twin brothers glaring at each other.

“Samu, Tsumu, stop it. I mean it.” You threaten them.

The ravenette snaps out of it, looking a little bit scared at your scowling face.

Atsumu claims the small victory in his head of the stare off and almost starts drooling at the sight of the food at the table.

Calming down, the three of you sit down and enjoy the food.

“Itadakimasu.” The three of you say in sync, digging in.

The Setter looks in bliss when he chows down the food, already in a lot better mood than last night.

“So, when are ya guys givin’ me nieces and nephews?” He asks with a teasing smirk.

Osamu starts to choke after that, with you shaking your head at Atsumu, padding your husband on the back and waiting for him to calm down.

Not even five minutes later, you hum as you clean the dishes, while ignoring your husband choking and fighting his brother over the comment over the table.

What can you say, if you marry one Miya brother, you’re automatically married to the second one.

@rukia-uchiha-98 @nerd-of-karasuno @wake-uptoreality @darthferbert

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyū!! #hq x reader #hq fluff #atsumu miya #osamu miya #osamu fluff #osamu miya x reader #osamu x reader #miya osamu #osamu x y/n #miya osamu x reader #haikyuu osamu #msby atsumu #miya twins #miya atsumu

[forusomimiya]

𝔽𝕠𝕦𝕣’𝕤 𝕒 𝕔𝕣𝕠𝕨𝕕

⚜️𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘮𝘴𝘣𝘺4!𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘱 𝘹 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

⚜️𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵

⚜️𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 1,4𝘬

⚜️𝘤𝘸: 𝘥𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘥𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘯𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦, 𝘥𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘱𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢. (¡𝘔𝘐𝘕𝘖𝘙𝘚 𝘋𝘖𝘕𝘛 𝘙𝘌𝘈𝘋 𝘐𝘛!)

You don't remember how you ended up here, or maybe you do, but you don't remember what led you to make this decision, what went through your wonderful head making you think this would be a good idea.

Because it wasn't just good, it was the best.

A couple of drinks after your first face-to-face game with the team, glances and approaches, brought you, the rookie manager of the black jackals and the four worst men you could have ever met, to spend "a little good time" at your hotel.

It wasn't the first time they got together and talked about how you flirted with each of them or how you enticed them to have a quick, sneaky encounter in the locker room. What they didn't know is that while they were getting hard talking about you, you were in your room cumming on your fingers more than three times in a row, imagining an orgy with them.

And there you were, rejoicing and getting what you had wanted to happen for months.

"Little whore in heat... if you're going to keep looking at me like that while 'm fucking that mouth, I swear I'm going to make a mess on yar pretty face. And I don't think Sakusa likes it when someone messes up what's his, do you Omi-kun?" Atsumu's words are choppy with each thrust and with each touch of his tip at the end of your throat. His muscles begin to weaken but for his life, he will not stop until he has accomplished his goal.

"Just shut your fucking mouth and keep going, Miya. It keeps getting tighter every time you go in deeper."

"Ignore him Atsumu. Down here I can see how he enjoys every praise you give her" you only have a second to switch from focusing on Atsumu's cock to Hinata's and Sakusa's, both alternating to hit your fragile spot and making you moan long and hard as you gargle with Atsumu's cock.

"Holy fuck, so pretty like that… drooling all over my cock…” you moan in pain as you open your mouth wider. Your jaw will remind you tomorrow. "Awww… it hurts… Easy doll, I'll cum in no time and your mouth can rest. But first let me torture ya some more." His hips slam faster into your mouth, causing you to gag and your throat to itch, before you start to tear up.

"Hah, she's already in tears. Poor baby… maybe three cocks aren't enough for her. Maybe ya should slow down your movements, Atsumu…. What do you think? I'd like to have her mouth intact for a while from now" deaf ears to the words of Bokuto, who stands to the side squeezing the base of his cock and stroking the tip, mesmerised by the movement of your tits bouncing back and forth. Atsumu's hands on the back of your neck force you deeper into him, and even though it's your first time sucking him, you know what it means, so you look up and confirm your intuition when you see his eyebrows draw together and his mouth form an "O".

"Ahh keep crying… keep crying for my cock… nngh f-fuck! Keep it up, keep it up!" Quickly the thick, warm liquid runs down your throat and you can only continue to watch him, biting his lip as he is consumed by pleasure and continues to spill now onto your tongue. You swallow, frowning at the bitter taste. It's not pleasant, but fuck, you're a slut at sex, and you like to show it off.

"Damn… you swallowed it?" You nod and lick the remainder left on your lips, sobbing and whimpering because even though your mouth is now empty, your pussy is still filled by two cocks. "Good girl" you smile as he strokes your head, enticing you to close your eyes and appreciate his sweet touch. Atsumu could change his ways with you whenever he wanted.

You were fascinated by the way he was sometimes gentle with you in training, giving you his attention and care. Giving you advice on how to improve or cheering you up when you were down. Other times, he would catch you off guard from behind when no one was watching and he would fawn in your ear about what a good girl you were when you offered him water or towels to wipe off your sweat. He always said he'd thank you later, but it never happened. Until now.

Men who have you dripping, panting and cursing bring you back to enjoy them.

"M-more please… want more, so good…" Sakusa squeezes your hips and increases the strokes, obeying your pleas, grunting with each time you clench around him.

"Fuck… gonna fill this fucking pussy to the last drop. You're taking me so well that i think i wanna do it again…" but you can't take any more. The support of your arms on the bed trembles with each thrust, and the speed and joy of feeling the friction of both cocks in you doesn't help. "Just a little more kitten, just a little more…". You moan louder and louder and beg to go faster, though Hinata, slowly torturing you and dismissing that option, continues to enjoy every inch of your pussy opening up for him, willing to spend the time needed.

"P-please… faster… more - faster."

"Sshh be good for us baby, just have fun and keep squeezing for us, yeah? We promise to fill you up real soon kitty, just a - little bit - more."

You nod unconsciously. You can't stop thinking about how badly you want to cum all over them. And fuck, Bokuto hasn't even touched you yet, and you crave it, you need him to humiliate you and reward you for how well you're behaving. There's still time to enjoy him.

"I can't take it anymore… need her now." Bokuto steps in front of you and from his position you can see what he wants to do, so you stick out your tongue and wait.

"Hah, did you see that? She's as desperate as we thought. Didn't you get enough of mine that now you want Bokkun's?" you look sideways at the blond, who chuckles and grabs you by the chin, moving you in his direction and ordering you. "Now, open up."

The next thing that happens, comes very quickly.

You don't lose eye contact with Atsumu as he drops a trickle of saliva into your mouth. Bokuto, too aroused by the scene with the blond, and by the two partners warning that they are close to cumming, points in the direction of your tits and without control over himself, regretting it, is the next to do it. The warmth of the fluid and how dirty it makes you feel, makes you come and brings you closer to orgasm, with no interest in alerting the men who, by the pressure on their cocks and your uncontrolled leakage, know what is going on.

"Ahh fuck, she's cumming, she's cumming! hah- so tight…" Hinata is next to follow you, letting his cum leak out of your pussy and drip onto it, leading Sakusa to hopelessly let himself go.

"Yeahh, i love it… so wet… you're all mine, you hear me? Fucking mine" Emptying himself completely as he admires how underneath his cock white liquid is still oozing out, possibly a mixture of all three.

You take a few seconds to breathe, still on top of Hinata, who smiles at you as she lies slumped on the bed. You smile back with what little energy you have left, and thinking about it, you miss feeling full again, and underappreciated, in some ways. You think about what you're going to do, but then you remember that you've come here to play, and that you have a side to you that they haven't known yet, and you have to put it into practice.

When Sakusa and Hinata have risen from the bed, you crawl to the end of it and kneel down, staring at them one by one and waiting for them to know what you want. Bokuto seems to be the only one who notices your intentions, which leads him to smile at you for it and approach you with the same.

"Coming for more?" You nod cradling yourself against his hand as he caresses your cheek. Bokuto and the rest can't stop devouring you with their eyes. It was no wonder; a mess covered in tears and semen, with teeth marks at your neck and finger marks on your buttocks. More than one couldn't help but take a breather to get back into bed again.

"We didn't think we had such a docile manager…" Atsumu's voice, sitting behind you, prompts you to lean back against his chest, letting out small gasps, satisfied with the result. You are ready for round two.

"We'll care you for a while longer, if that's what you want."

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@planetmarz

A.N.: Okay, is this an open ending TO A SEQUEL? I don't want to deceive myself but, I would love to do a sequel. I'm not very satisfied with the result, cause I think I'm not very good narrating a situation, and I'm better at making short scenes, so… I'll have to see how much appreciation this short fic has and consider making a last and second part 🫡

#haikyuu smut #haikyuuheadcanon #hq smut #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x imagines #hq headcanons #sakusa smut #atsumu smut #bokuto smut #hinata smut #msby smut #hq msby #msby atsumu #msby sakusa #msby bokuto #msby hinata #msby x reader #msby black jackal #haikyuu msby #msby four #msby headcanons #atsumu x reader smut #sakusa x reader smut #bokuto x reader smut #hinata x reader smut #atsumu x reader #sakusa x reader #hinata x reader #bokuto x reader

[kitakashi]

Cats

Featuring: Kuroo, Akaashi, Suna, Kita, Atsumu, Osamu, Iwaizumi, Oikawa…

Part 2

Kuroo Tetsurō adamantly declares he’s a dog person. Complains about cat hair on his suit and stinky litter boxes to no end. But every night it’s the same routine. After dinner you two sit on the couch watching whatever with your cat nestled perfectly against his broad chest, his long fingers rubbing velvety ears, purring away. Little kisses to the top of your cat’s head. Disturb the fur baby and you get a withering glare from your man.

Akaashi Keiji uses your cat as his personal therapist. Especially when the mangaka he’s supposed to be working with fails to turn in their work on time. From long nights editing, your man and your cat have irrevocably bonded. You swear he’s become nocturnal, but glad he has a companion for those all nighters. The cat tree was even moved to right beside his desk. If he’s not careful, your cat will drink his coffee.

Had Suna Rinartō not become a professional volleyball player, you swear he should have become a photographer. His two favorite models? You and your cat. If he’s ever home alone expect to be bombarded with adorable sleeping kitty pics. You can’t even be mad when you see his phone gallery has more pictures of your cat than you. His wallpaper is you and your fur baby curled up together for a nap.

Kita Shinsuke smiles when your cat welcomes him home every day from the rice fields. A little chirp and head butt before prancing away. He also spoils her rotten, sneaking her bits of meat from your dinner. You’d scold him for it but because of their dynamic your cat now listens to him more often than you. Kitty doesn’t dare misbehave when he’s home. And you can’t hate his gentle smile while petting your cat either.

Miya Atsumu tries and fails to be indifferent to your fur baby. However, he gets insanely jealous if your cat is in your lap when he wants attention. Your man will even sulk if you refuse to move the sleeping fur baby. He came up with the idea of buying more cat toys to distract your cat with so he can cuddle you more. Now your cat expects toys from him every time he comes back from an away game trip. He gets swatted if he comes back empty handed.

Even after a long day Miya Osamu insists on making your cat’s food. None of that canned or bagged nonsense. At times you think your cat dines better than you do. Your fur baby even gets first dibs on any leftovers from Onigiri Miya. He insists it’s because a cat’s diet is different than a humans’ and they can only have particular things. If your cat ever turns up their nose at anything he makes, he gets extremely offended.

You’re used to Iwaizumi Hajime and your cat having daily staring competitions. After coming home from a long day working with athletes, your fur baby meets him at the door. His intense stare matching your cat’s feline one both unblinking. It isn’t until your cat yawns and begins grooming that he sighs with relief and passes by. You can’t help but chuckle at your beefy man silently asking permission from your cat to enter his own home.

Oikawa Tōru treats your cat like a peer. Ranting about the woes of being famous as if only your kitty could ever relate. He acknowledges the little meows as part of a serious conversation. Interrupt that communication and receive a scathing look. He will scoop your cat up and sashay from the room venting about how peasants could never understand their plight. You can’t help but laugh when he pretends your cat’s opinion means more than yours.

#haikyuu x reader #kuroo x reader #suna x reader #kita x reader #akaashi x reader #iwaizumi x reader #oikawa x reader #atsumu x reader #osamu x reader

[suashii]

— 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝓅𝑜𝓈𝒶𝓁 ౨ৎ

miya osamu x reader. 3.9k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ secrecy ﾉ misunderstandings

synopsis: after accidentally finding out about your boyfriend's plan to propose, you anxiously await the moment.

that’s probably why he wants to propose. that’s probably why he wants to propose. that’s probably why—

the words have been playing on repeat in your head ever since they slipped past atsumu’s lips. you could tell he was apologetic for not only the mistake he made in revealing his brother’s business but also for keying you in on something you weren’t meant to be aware of. despite his profuse and plentiful “sorry”s, it has been impossible for you to not think about osamu’s impending proposal.

even less so now that you’re standing outside his restaurant.

the last time you’d been relatively nervous at or near onigiri miya was when you were stationed on the bench and waiting for him to close up for your first date. time passed by excruciatingly slowly as you peeked over your shoulder every couple of minutes to gauge whether or not he would be out any time soon. you’d been inside the establishment only a few hours earlier with some friends who wouldn’t shut up about how cute the guy with the black cap was. you couldn’t blame them; you thought the same thing. which is why you were so surprised when what you thought was harmless flirting with the entire table led to him pulling you aside and asking you to hang out that night. 

it was an impulsive decision for you to say yes, but you don’t regret it in the slightest. the happiest two years of your life came as a result of your spontaneity. the nostalgia of that moment hits you at full force as you stand tentatively at the entrance of the restaurant, patrons entering with excitement and exiting with content smiles. the kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttering around in your belly feels the exact same it had that first night you spent with him.

you can’t loiter around forever, though, as you only have so much time before your coworkers are expecting you back with lunch. with a stabilizing sigh, you push the door open, the bell above it ringing to announce the arrival of another.

part of you is expecting osamu to welcome you at the door, after all, it isn’t rare for him to be running the host podium. though, instead of being greeted by a familiar face, a girl sporting a black apron is seating the growing line of visitors.

 you never know where you can find your boyfriend at any given moment—he hops between helping out in the kitchen, handling business in his office, and even waiting tables; which is what he seems to be busy with today. you always thought he preferred spending his hours in the back working with the food, but he’s surprisingly adept at socializing with customers. that much is evident by the easy smile playing at his lips while he converses with a group of older women just to the left of where you’re currently positioned.

you’re close enough to pick up on most of the exchange. he’s dropping off the bill and collecting plates as they dote on him—going back and forth about how helpful and kind he had been while servicing them. a smile of your own stretches across your lips as you listen to their overt praise of your boyfriend. you tell him how amazing he was all the time, but he deserves to hear it from other people, too.

“a handsome gentleman like you oughta be married by now.” one of the women points at his ringless finger as he reaches for her empty cup.

your ears perk up at the lady’s words. to them, it must be hard to believe that a successful business owner with a personality likable to all isn’t settled down already. you wait in anticipation for his reply.

“yeah.” he breathily laughs—not with ease; more bashful than anything. “i’m working on that.”

you can pick up the distant laughter from the women that sounds farther away than it truly is. you never doubted it when atsumu told you, but hearing it from osamu himself makes it so much more real. too focused on your thoughts, you don’t feel the presence of someone beside you.

“hey.” you almost jump at the sudden voice but the familiar feel of arms wrapping around you and soft lips pressing to your cheek stops you. he must have finished up his chat while you were lost in your thoughts. 

“hi.” you smile, hoping it doesn’t appear too strained. you can’t think back on  a time where it had felt awkward to be around osamu but you’re beginning to think that now might mark the first. as much as you want to remain your normal and composed self, the task is proving to be difficult.

“lunch run?” he asks, pulling away from you but keeping one arm wrapped around your waist.

“mhm,” you hum.

he tells you that he’ll grab your order so you don’t have to wait any longer in the line. you chew at your lip as you gaze nowhere in particular in an attempt to think about anything but the proposal you should be oblivious to. osamu is back in no time, placing the to-go bag in your hand and sending you off with another kiss.

the bell rings again as you depart from the restaurant. as if your mind wasn’t already in the gutter, you have something new to dwell on for the rest of the day.

ᡣ𐭩

the aroma of breakfast cooking typically rouses you from your slumber on saturday mornings, but rather than waking to the scent of a freshly cooked meal, the hum of the television from the next room works as your alarm. wiping any lingering sleep from your eyes and tossing the comforter aside, you stand up and stroll down the hall to see what osamu is up to. through slightly bleary vision, you catch sight of him sitting on the floor in front of the couch, his eyes trading off between looking at the flat screen and the screen of his laptop. it’s not often that he handles work matters outside his office and on the occasion that he does bring business home, he usually hunkers down in the guest room that serves as a workroom so he won’t get distracted.

“good morning,” you call from behind the couch. you lean over the back and squint your eyes to get a closer look at his laptop. “whatcha looking at?”

tilting his head back, osamu flashes you a bright smile. his hair is messy and unbrushed and your hands are itching to neaten the brunette strands. he pats the space on the floor beside him. “come see.”

you round the cushioned furniture and plop down next to osamu. you wriggle around a bit before you’re comfortably pressed against his side. the sound of the tv playing some competitive cooking show fills the otherwise quiet room. with a satisfied sigh, you finally look at the tab pulled up on osamu’s computer.

“houses?” you clear your throat but it’s too late to take back the crack that breaks the word.

a hand runs lazily up and down your side as osamu nods.

“how come? i thought you liked your apartment.” you cross your arms and chew at the inside of your cheek. you spend more time at his place than your own and osamu often calls his apartment yours—the two of you are practically living together. and you love it, being able to wake up beside him and welcome him home after a long day, but the thought of buying a house makes you shiver. the nagging at the back of your mind that you’ve been trying so hard to ignore was resurfacing.

“i do,” he agrees easily. “but don’t you want to find a place to call a home of our own?”

“well, yeah…” at the beginning of your relationship, you could only have dreamed of this moment; house hunting with osamu. the thought made you giddy; picturing how beautiful your yard would look lined with colorful flowers, thinking about all the meals you and osamu could make in a spacious kitchen, imagining what the rooms would look like filled with photos and belongings of your own—envisioning a happy life with him. now that you’re getting a taste of the experience, you can’t help but think about his plan to propose. if he’s already searching the market for houses, it must mean that you’re quickly approaching his proposal. there’s no time to enjoy what’s right in front of you when you’re too preoccupied thinking about osamu popping the question.

“hey.” he smooths a hand over your hair and squishes your cheeks together with his other. osamu hates seeing your eyebrows knit together in a frown. he can’t be sure as to why you look so troubled, but he does know that he’d do anything to get your mind off of whatever is bothering you—even if that thing is the window displaying images of houses for sale. his lips meet your puckered ones in a quick kiss before he continues. “no need to get the jitters just yet. we’re just scouting, nothing serious.”

it’s clear that he caught onto your discomfort and his words are an attempt at ridding you of it. just because you’re feeling awkward doesn’t mean you have to put a damper on osamu’s hopeful mood. and he’s right; it would take a lot more than a couple hours on a saturday morning to find a house that the both of you were happy with. there’s no harm in just looking. you nod with a grin, “nothing serious.”

“but,” he draws out the vowel, “i have been waiting for you to get up so i could hear your thoughts about this kitchen.” he clicks over to the picture showing off the kitchen of the listed house. “what do you think? pretty amazing, right?”

you won’t let your nerves ruin what is supposed to be an exciting milestone for you and your boyfriend. and how can you deny the man with sparkles of anticipation in his eyes? 

“if you like it, i love it.”

ᡣ𐭩

spacing out is your new normal. it happens much more often than it ever did before a couple weeks ago. you’ll be at work, typing away on your keyboard, and your mind will drift. the next time you look at the document you’re working on, it’s filled with your written thoughts about being a spouse rather than the report you’re meant to be filling out. you’ll stare at your hands while loading the washing machine with dirty laundry, imagining what your ring finger would look like adorned with a metal band. it’s only when you go to transfer the wet clothes to the dryer that you realize you accidentally mixed colors with the whites. the growing number of mishaps have you wishing you were still gleefully unaware of what’s causing you to internally rush osamu to hurry up and bend down on one knee. though, you don’t blame osamu for your wandering mind—how could you? it’s not his fault that his brother blabbed.

your life would be a lot easier if atsumu had a filter and kept his mouth shut. you had let him off the hook because his apology seemed sincere, but the moment that ring is resting easily on your fourth finger, he’ll be getting a mouthful of choice words for causing you so much unnecessary stress.

even now, on what’s meant to be a relaxing walk with osamu, you’re too distracted to enjoy the cool breeze gently blowing against your face and the company of your boyfriend. the warmth of osamu’s hand enveloping yours is the only thing anchoring you to your environment, which is why you gasp when he tugs your arm to keep you from walking any further. you stumble back on your feet, glancing over to osamu to see why he stopped you so abruptly. you aren’t able to ask before he starts kneeling down.

it’s as if time froze.

oh god, is he doing it here? now? in the middle of the sidewalk? of all the scenarios you had run through during restless nights, you had come to the conclusion that a public proposal was the least likely; osamu is an intimate man and you figured he wouldn’t want to make a scene. but more than that, he’d want the event to be exclusive to the two of you—no spectators or wandering eyes, something private; a memory that belonged to you and you only. the shock of not only his proposal but the execution leaves you reeling. heart thumping wildly in your chest, you will your eyes to look down to your feet. your breath catches in your throat upon seeing that he’s only tying his shoe. you don’t know whether to breathe out a sigh of relief or scream in frustration at that fact you’ll be waiting for who knows how long for the real thing to happen.

“you good?” osamu questions with a frown as he slowly returns to his standing position. he’s been catching you with a crease between your eyebrows recently and despite your consistent reassurance that you were fine, the expression seemed to always find its way back to your face. even though he’s concerned, he never wanted to come off as the overbearing boyfriend that crossed your boundaries by constantly hovering over your shoulder and badgering you to tell him how you actually feel. he trusts that if something is truly bothering you, you’ll tell him when you’re ready.

you have no intention of coming straight out and telling him that you were expecting him to give a sappy speech and pull out a velvet box. the entire reason you’ve been suffering silently is because you don’t want him to know that you know. you wrap your hands around his arm and peer up at him with a tight-lipped smile. “yeah, sorry. i was just in my head when you stopped me, that’s all.”

he stares down at you and you can practically see the doubt swimming in his eyes. there’s no way you can keep up this act without him getting even a little suspicious—your behavior is clearly stirring up some wariness on his end. you ignore the biting feeling that’s telling you that osamu is onto you, meeting his gaze happily.

“okay,” he finally speaks up with a short nod.

“okay, let’s go.” you rest your head on his shoulder and squeeze his bicep in a gesture to keep moving. he obliges and the two of you naturally fall into step with each other, continuing your stroll through town. you point out a shop that catches your eye, one with mannequins set up in the window wearing some cute outfits. the weather getting warmer is a perfect excuse for you to stop by the boutique and shop around. maybe browsing and asking osamu what he thinks about the clothes will be enough to get your head out of the clouds.

ᡣ𐭩

“this place is really nice,” you comment, head turning to take in your surroundings as you sit down in the chair osamu pulled out for you. the most eye-catching characteristic of the establishment is the extravagant chandelier hanging from the center of the room. the crystal pendants glimmer when the lights hit them at just the right angle, highlighting the intricately carved art on the walls. individual candles are lit at the center of each table. you can’t put your finger on their scent, but if the rest of the place is anything to go off of, you’re sure they smell amazing. even the silverware set out looks expensive. “are we celebrating something?”

you were caught off guard when osamu walked through the door earlier than usual, telling you to change out of your comfy clothes into something nice. it took a full-blown interrogation under the ruse of needing to know the dress code for osamu to come clean and admit that he was taking you out to dinner. it struck you as strange, though. your boyfriend was a chef at heart and loved trying out new recipes in the kitchen, excitedly standing by while you tasted the dish and gave him feedback. but on days when he was burned out from all the cooking at work, he’d ask you if you were fine with him ordering takeout. even on the days when didn’t want to cook but wanted to get out of the apartment, the two of you usually ventured to a familiar local spot, never anywhere that warranted more than jeans and a sweatshirt. him bringing you to a restaurant so opulent must mean that today marks a special occasion, right?

tonight has to be the night.

“no,” he takes his seat across from you, laying the provided napkin on his lap before running a cautious hand over his hair. it’s an unusual sight to see his hair slicked back, but some of the dark pieces strayed from the rest, swooping over his forehead and framing his face. he always looks handsome in your eyes but under the lights illuminating the room, he’s even more attractive. “i just wanted to treat you to a nice night.”

“that’s sweet.” you reach across the table to take his hand in yours, giving it a gentle squeeze and offering him a soft smile. what exactly does a “nice night” entail? dinner, dessert, and a diamond ring? you hope he doesn’t notice the tremors running through your fingers.

he returns your smile with one of his own, brushing his thumb across your knuckles. the two of you share light conversation until the waiter arrives to take your orders and collect your menus. as smoothly as things are going, you can’t help but think that as time goes on, you’re getting closer and closer to the moment you’ve spent weeks waiting for.

“is something wrong?” osamu asks.

“nope.” you shake your head. “why would something be wrong?”

“your leg keeps bouncing under the table.”

“oh, sorry, i didn’t even notice.” you pull your hand back and rest your palms on your thighs to stop them from moving.

“look, babe.” osamu runs his hand down his face and sighs. you must have thought he didn’t notice that you were beginning to frown more, that you were sleeping at his apartment less, that you pulled away when he brought up the future—but he did, he did notice and he can’t let it go. “you’ve been acting strange lately and i told myself i wouldn’t pry but it’s really starting to worry me. i just… was it something i did?”

“no! no, of course not.” you wave your hands back and forth frantically as if they’ll physically disperse his words throughout the air—rid that ridiculous thought from his head. you want to grab him by the face and scream at him about how wrong he is, but you keep your hands folded in your lap, thumbs unconsciously twiddling.

“the truth is…” you chew your lip thoughtfully, thinking over whether or not it’s a good idea to finally tell him. you had a good reason for keeping it from osamu, but now that you’ve witnessed that it is doing more harm than good, that he’s blaming himself for you being distant, you recognize that maybe it wasn’t the best idea to keep him in the dark. you have to tell him—this whole debacle has gone on for far too long and it’s affecting someone other than yourself. you take a deep breath before continuing. “when i went out with atsumu a couple weeks ago, we were just talking when he told me something he shouldn’t have. he said you were going to propose to me.”

osamu’s lips part in surprise. it never crossed his mind, the possibility that you were aware, but now that he thinks about it, everything makes sense. well, mostly everything. you had answered his question, but it raised another, one that’s a lot more difficult to ask. “so, have you been acting off because you knew, or because you don’t want to get married?”

you know it isn’t his intention, but your heart breaks a little at the fact that he even considered your rejection to be a real possibility. and it cracks a little more knowing that your secrecy is what likely instilled that notion in his head. “it’s not that. i was just on edge because i didn’t know when it was going to happen—i was expecting it and every little thing set me off.”

he nods slowly as he processes everything.

“i’m sorry i didn’t tell you earlier.” your voice is quiet and osamu can just barely hear it over the commotion of the dining area. “i didn’t know what to do when your brother told me and, i don’t know, i thought acting like i was clueless would be best. i didn’t want to ruin it for you.”

“you don’t have to apologize.” he places his hands palms-up on the table and waits for you to set yours on top of his. you lift them off your legs and give them to osamu. he raises them to his mouth, kissing the back of each before meeting your gaze once more. “i’m not mad, i swear i’m not. you did what you thought was right. don’t beat yourself up about it.”

despite his understanding, part of you still feels as if the whole ordeal was avoidable. but if osamu isn’t upset with you, there’s no point in being upset with yourself. he wouldn’t want you fretting over it and you want nothing more than for things to return to normal. you smile and huff out a laugh. “i guess i ended up doing exactly what i was trying not to. did you have a backup plan in case i found out before you got the job done?”

“mmm, can’t say i thought about that. but i suppose i could just do it now. i don’t have the ring on me but there’s no reason to wait since—”

“are you serious?” you stare at him in disbelief. you’d spent the last several days walking on eggshells as though osamu would propose at any given moment, telling yourself that it could happen when you least expected it. still, none of those previous close calls lessen the shock of osamu’s nonchalantly spoken words.

“completely.” he traces a line over your finger; the one that he ideally would be sliding a ring on. it’s far from how he imagined the scene playing out, but even without the defining qualities of the average proposal—the dropping down on one knee, the long heartfelt speech about how his life changed when you walked into it, the dazzling ring—everything about here and now feels right to osamu. “marry me?”

tears pool in your eyes, threatening to spill over your lash line. you thought you had enough time to prepare for this—experienced enough scares to steel yourself from crying, but if this stretch of time had taught you anything, it was to expect the unexpected. the vision of osamu in front of you is slowly blurring with each passing second. you blink, allowing the tears to flow down your cheeks and drip down your chin. you want to be able to see his face clearly when you give him your answer. fervently nodding, you tell him, “yes.”

thanks for reading! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment :3

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: haikyuu #osamu x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #osamu fluff #haikyuu fluff #osamu x you #haikyuu x you

[shaisuki]

— NO SUNLIGHT FOR THE CAGED

ENTRY #002 OF SHAISUKI'S KINKTOBER 2023

FT. YAKUZA! OSAMU MIYA + SHIBARI

— shibari is a japanese style of bondage, it's known as a kink but it's more than that. It's a kind of art, while tying the rope around someone's body you're making different patterns and connecting with that person.

• pairing: osamu miya x chubby reader

• content warnings: yakuza au, yandere themes, pwp, shibari (bondage), dark themes, reader is a bastard, power imbalances, noncon, dubcon.

freedom is what you yearned for a long time but osamu miya won't let you get the freedom you deserved, now you belong to him.

days are gone in the blink of an eye while you stare at the spacious garden. walking in the same hallways was different.

it seems like yesterday with you and the the twins were frolicking there. spent playing the game of tag and gawking at the koi fishes swimming — tails swishing, creating ripples in the pond.

now there's no love nor fondness thinking about it. memories about being a child gives the illusion of being happy without a care in the world. temporarily.

as a child you thought nothing would change. that atsumu and osamu would be still your dear friends. that they will be the the same people you'll grow up with. you love them wholeheartedly. never did it crossed your mind one day, your dear tsumu and samu would change. you came to terms of it. they were meant to be that day as the next head of the miya clan and you — a bastard have no place for it.

and who are you to complain, you were born a bastard after all. in the world where family matters the most and influenced a organization, bastards like you have no place for it. maybe if you were born male, your father would maybe favor you a bit and that would been fine — you would have a purpose.

instead you were born a woman. engraved with the roles that you are nothing without men. that you will have value of being a wife, a mother and you don't want that. clinging to a hope that someday you will live a long, fulfilling life and escaping this place would be the first step on making that true, achieving the life you wanted. counting the days until you'll know what freedom is.

the halls were empty. where only shadows of a gleeful childhood witnessed the laughter and squeals of once lively halls. a remnant of the past that you will never see again.

“there's nothing for me here.” you would whisper where only the walls could hear you.

it all began when the twins grew distant of you. as heirs they are being prepared of the duties and responsibilities they would take once their father would step down as being the head of the miya clan.

atsumu was the first then osamu. you didn't knew atsumu for the first time he mocked you and reminded of your place. his voice tearing your heart apart. his disdain and disappointment were made for you and osamu, although he didn't say a word. his gaze tells otherwise. atsumu would snarl at you but osamu would look at you once, twice and a shrug is enough to tear your heart in shreds. the regret and disgust for meeting you, for simply existing. a nobody in his life.

what affection and sincere smile were long gone, replaced with the nasty remarks and the jeers. passing in the hallways only to get shoved or not ignored, not even once needed the memories of the bond shared.

it won't be long. you say to yourself. you needed a plan to escape this place. without looking back. a new life for yourself. free from the duties that is forced to you. a freedom for yourself.

watching the hands of the clock ticks by left you restless. a few belongings packed safely in your bag. you didn't have much, a few trinkets and such. tucked away in the corner of your room. a few more hours and freedom. you needed to tend things with the gathering of the constituents and allies of the miya clan tonight and after that, you are free. they wouldn't notice you. a nobody.

their noisy cheers and not so discreet of plans echoed in the common room along in the hallways. your father was also there. who had no interest to his bastard of a daughter.not even batting an eyelash as his daughter poured warm sake in his cup. downing it with eagerness and going back to their conversation. you continued to serve them along with the hope that you will be free tonight.

your heart pounds along with your sharp intakes of breath. come on now. it's now or never. you don't need to dwell yourself in trivial things. they were going to be too drunk or wouldn't give a care to you leaving. they could easily replace you.

this is the time while you leave in the back, you can see the tori as you approach getting bigger. this is it. when you walked past in that tori you will be free.

“where do you think yer going?”

don't look back.don't look back.don't look back.don't look back.don't look back.

you don't want to look and only to find samu's gaze staring at you. maybe, you could look at those eyes of his. it's been years since you've look at them and seeing it would be goodbye. a farewell.

turning around, clutching your bag in your hands. you face him, looking straight in his eyes. not even acknowledging how handsome he is in his black montsuki.

“away from here.”

“i didn't take you for being stupid. what made you think that yer leaving this place? how stupid.”

grey eyes twinkles in amusement. watching as your body squirm while the ropes tightens in your limbs. finally, he can use this skills he acquired from a long time ago. giving purpose to his fondness of ropes and to you.

he would be much gentler to you. if it weren't the act of you leaving him. how stupid for you to leave him. to think you have the will to leave him and the snap of ropes hitting your skin is the kind of mark that breaks your skin. let the punishment fit the crime of trying to escape from his grasps.

“samu, please. i don't want any of this.” you pleaded.

he remained silent. his fingers weaving the rope like a spider to it's web. gliding the rope in your skin while you're sprawled in the floor. his hakama pooling in his waist. showing the dragon tattoos etched in his left arm and to his abdomen and chest. toned and leaned his body is. proudly showing you what he's made of as he manipulates the rope in his own will.

the younger miya keeps his eyes glazed to your supple body. the rope digging in your soft skin. tugging the ropes to create tension to your flesh. feel it. embrace it. there's no use how you wiggled your wrists. the more you try. the tighter the rope clings to your skin.

a work of art, he would say. your body tangled in the red ropes minus the squirming. satisfied with his handiwork. samu pulls the rig above you. your body rising above and he can see the panic in your eyes. it wouldn't let you down if that's what you think. stupid for you to think that it'll fall when this is all made for you to think that you knew all of him. it's a dumb claim for you that you will own him. that you will be able to manipulate him with a simple pout of your plump lips. long gone with all the games and he got you wrapped around his fingers.

you were suspended in the air. limbs aching and burning that you can't almost feel it. osamu walks around you. admiring his work, his gaze fell to your body bound by the bright, red ropes and he can finally take all the frustrations he felt for years. face devoid of any emotions and you're afraid when osamu's like this. far much worse than his older twin.

lips pursed into a thin line while his knuckles grazed the skin in your cheek. you didn't meet his gaze. recoiling upon the contact of his skin to your and that osamu didn't like it one bit.

patience thinning out at your stubbornness. osamu grasped your jaw before pulling it close to him. meeting his piercing gaze that leaves your soul trembling. it's all pure territorial with death awaiting to those who dares to enter. his breath tickling in your face.

“and where would you go?” he began to inquire you. “you hold no position. no name for yourself. no property for you to own. you are nothing. you—”

“i know!” you interrupt him and osamu didn't like being interrupted but he lets you. “i'm aware all of that. you don't need to remind and you should have let me —”

“go? I won't allow it. you belong here and no place on earth would replace that. even you're gone, i'll find you. you forgot how powerful i am — princess.” the nickname leaves you breathless. you forgot he calls you that besides your name and it made you smile a little, bitterly. your samu was still here.

“i should tie you up more often.” he says, adoring the work while his hands runs to the expanse of your body. “i wonder what sound you'll make if i do this.” he teases, pinching the hardened bud, earning a delicious moan coming from you and that made him chuckle. “where else? i know you were always a slut, princess.” pulling the rope a little tighter and he can see the indents in your skin.

“dripping wet, are we?” he taunts. rubbing your puffy, soaked folds with his fingers covered with your slick. “please, samu” you whined. begging for more friction. begging for him to give your neglected pussy with attention.

your resolution of escaping dissipating like bubbles. you can never escape samu and you're dream of freedom was a mere child's dream. you're bound to him.

“bad girls don't get to cum, princess. if you only submitted to me earlier i might have.” plunging his finger to your hole and the tears begin to pour from your eyes. pumping his fingers in a lazy manner before pulling it out. admiring his slick-covered fingers.

catching you in his arms before whispering. “don't ever think of leaving me again.” and you nod immediately.

you won't be seeing the sunlight again along with the freedom you desperately yearned for.

#ʚ•ɞ. shai writes #shaisuki's kinktober2023 #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x chubby reader #haikyuu smut #chubby reader #plus size reader

[astyrial]

ogling over onigiri osamu miya x fem!reader (fluff) synopsis: osamu is short staffed and luckily for him, atsumu knows someone who can cook word count: 1.4k warnings: mentions of food and cooking masterlist | requests are open

   "this is my kitchen, and i don't know her. so unless you have some magical thing that'll convince me to let her work in my kitchen, then no," osamu throws a hand towel over his shoulder, hands moving to rest on his hips.

  atsumu leans against the entrance of onigiri miya's kitchen, arms crossed. the kitchen is practically empty due to half of the people calling out sick. people are lining up outside due to a tweet that atsumu regrettably sent out advertising a new dish and his appearance. however, none of that happens to be the magic thing that'll convince osamu to let someone into his kitchen on an early saturday morning. 

  atsumu looks back at the curtained windows, all of the legs behind it. despite his squabbles with his brother, he doesn't want to be the one who helps tank his business. "well, i know someone who used to be a sous chef. she cooked for the team some meal plans sometimes. i think she could have the day off-"

  "you're going to call some woman on her day off and ask her to cook for my business? you can't just do that!"

  "she loves to cook, really, she'll be here in no time. trust me, she's the best chef out there right now. plus you need another cook, and i don't think you want me helping," atsumu stands up straight, reaching for his phone in his back jean pocket. 

  osamu purses his lips while rolling his eyes. of course he needs the help, he has the past few days. but to request someone to come work on such a busy day feels wrong, inappropriate. "just tell her that she absolutely doesn't need to, and we're okay if she doesn't want to. i don't want you pressuring anyone," osamu was always stubborn, but even more so when he's affecting someone he hardly knows. 

  before a sudden realization that this is completely wrong and he shouldn't be doing this, his brother is already in the other room on the phone with you. osamu certainly can't hear your end of the phone call. however, he can hear the 'thank you's' leaving atsumu's lips. meaning that some random chef that he has never met likely took atsumu up on his offer.

  "she's getting ready now, you have twenty more minutes til you open. so, i'll let her through the back door while you work," atsumu stuffs his phone back into his pocket, looking over at his brother.

  it's hard for the two to get along, usually they'd be fighting tooth and nail right now. however, there's something in the air causing a civil conversation. the two immediately start getting the kitchen prepped (which means atsumu cracking jokes while osamu has one of the cashier workers help). 

  osamu starts up some rice on a zojirushi machine, washing and cutting up some vegetables. time was ticking down as atsumu gave you the address, telling you that the shop would open in five minutes. he looks back at atsumu, not knowing what he would do if you couldn't make it. a part of him feels bad for taking you away from your day off, but the rest of him is just happy to have a helping hand.

  luckily for him, this helping hand knocked on the back door, the sound feeling like music to osamu's ears. "i got it!" atsumu announces over the noise of people entering the front of the shop. 

  the sound of someone opening the back door and saying hello to atsumu brings his head up. he sets his knife down, hands on the prepping station. you come walking into the kitchen, atsumu quickly following behind. his eyes meet yours and for a second the world stops. every ounce of anxiety from the day washes away as you give him a soft smile. 

  "you must be osamu? well miya, if you're more comfortable with that. my name is l/n y/n, if atsumu hasn't told you already," you reach out your hand to shake his, only to move it back quickly once you realize that you need to wash your hands. 

  osamu's mouth hangs slightly open, just so that you could see the bottom of his top row of teeth. he's mesmerized, even if he won't admit it himself, "he hasn't- and osamu's fine. it's nice to meet you l/n, i'm sorry for pulling you out here on your day off. it's completely unacceptable and if i could repay somehow with dinner or something-"

  you shake your head, looking around the room for a second before finding the sink. as you're turned around, making sure that you're ready to make food, atsumu is slapping his brother's shoulder. he raises his eyebrows a couple times, giving him a quick wink. before you could turn around, atsumu whispers something about dinner.

  "did you say something?" you ponder, turning your attention to the brothers as you dry your hands.

  "he was just asking if you knew how to make certain types of onigiri, because of your experience," osamu gives his brother a glare, trying to hide it as he looks back at you. 

  you grab an apron off of his wall and begin tying it around yourself. "yes, known since i was ten. i used to make them for the team with brown rice and miso beef, because of the digestive health benefits. however, white or jasmine are always preferable," an even warming smile spreads across your lips, making your way over to the workstation beside osamu.

  before either of you could say anything else, the first order has come through. it's oyakodon, a rice meal with chicken and egg. you've made it hundreds of times as a sous chef and it's a fairly easy process once you get the hang of it. a screen displays the food choice in front of you, leaving you to look over at osamu, a little nervous.

  "i assume you store your chicken in the fridge?" 

  "yeah- sorry, usually people are stationed in different areas to work on certain things but with everyone out-"

  "it's fine, i've worked in stickier situations before," you take a look around the room and start off towards the fridge, eyes peering for the stovetop next.

  osamu looks off at you, heart beating quickly. he takes in a deep breath and watches as the next order comes through. it's an onigiri, salmon in the middle, a rather simple recipe. despite his wandering eyes to where you're prepping your food, he attempts to keep his mind set on the food in front of him.

  the first few orders were rather simple for osamu, mostly onigiri and sushi. your oyakodon being the most complicated thing of that morning. it's clear your good at what you do, even if your working in a completely different environment. 

  he peaks over at you as you let out a slight hum in your voice to the music playing over the speakers. you're swaying a little as you add part of the egg mixture to the pan. if it weren't for the circumstances, a part of osamu knows that he'd ask about dinner again. he'd lean against some counter and cross his arms in front of his chest, give you a soft smile that you can't say no to.

  "osamu, you almost done with that?" 

  he looks up from you, over to one of the cashiers staring him down, "yeah, finishing up now!"

  after that, he begins to focus more on his work. only looking over at you as he waits for another order to come in. sometimes you'll inquire about something, where something may be or what spices to add. you're a harder worker than he could've expected from someone he's never met (especially someone that atsumu is so close with). the way you get things accomplished making him even more attracted. 

  "l/n, you're doing great, thanks for helping today," osamu mentions as the lunch rush dies down to just a few people, atsumu's influence having ended.

  you look over at him, wiping your hands against the apron, a soft smile lining your lips. even after working hours in a hot, stuffy kitchen, there's a beauty to you that osamu's never seen. "well, if i'm calling you osamu, then it's only fair you call me y/n. plus, i'd love dinner if your request was genuine," you place on hand on your hip, eyebrows raised.

  osamu nods, "well- y/n, it most definitely was genuine. what do you feel like eating?"

  "i think onigiri would be delicious for dinner."

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfic #osamu miya x reader #miya osamu x reader #osamu miya #miya osamu #chef au

[izukuszn]

˚₊·➳❥ 𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮

➸ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | atsumu miya x reader ➸ 𝐰𝐜 | 1.8k ➸ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 | some cursing, angst to fluff, bestfriend!atsumu but he's in love w u ➸ 𝐚/𝐧 | pls ignore any mistakes!!

➸ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | you and atsumu had an argument. he said some things, and now he's here on your doorstep, ready to apologize.

Atsumu knocks on your door the same way he’s been doing since he met you: tap, taptaptap, tap. With that rhythm, he never even has to announce he’s the one, you already know. 

His heart beats fast, threatening to escape his chest. You haven’t talked since your argument a few days ago. He can’t even remember what it was about anymore, just the hurtful things he said to you, the way your face crumpled and tears lined the bottom of your eyes, the intense hatred he felt for himself for being the cause of that look on your face. The crushing emptiness he felt when you shut the door on him as he was standing in this exact spot, staring at your door. 

Everything was blurry after that. His actions were automatic, getting into his car and arriving home, sitting with his head leaning against the steering wheel for what he didn’t know was five minutes or two hours. Opening your texts and stringing together a million messages, I’m sorry, Can we please talk?  I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Only to never send any of them, regret heavy in his chest. 

It wasn’t until he showed up at his brother’s restaurant, tears in his eyes, begging him for help, because when it always comes down to it, Osamu, his (younger by one second) twin, is there to help him. ‘Samu played nice for a bit, letting him recount everything that happened, how he was feeling, until he kicked him out on his ass and told him to go apologize instead of whining like a crybaby. Atsumu was a bit peeved, but he followed his brother's advice. And that's what led him here. 

He waits, stuffing his hands into his pockets but then pulling them out to twist them together, toeing at the welcome mat the two of you had picked out together on a whim while on a shopping trip. He reads it out loud, as if he hasn’t seen it the million times he’s been here before. “Welcome to the Shitshow”, he murmurs. It was the first one you had seen, and you were sold on it immediately. It makes the ghost of a smile show on his lips until he hears shuffling from behind your door. 

When it stops, he looks through the peephole like he would actually be able to see anything from outside, and when that, unsurprisingly, doesn’t work, he places his ear against the barrier, straining to catch the sound of anything to let him know that you were going to open the door. He stands there like a fool for a few seconds, eyebrows furrowing, but then he hears the sounds of the locks clicking and he straightens up. Blowing out a breath, he runs a hand through his hair, brushes off invisible dirt from his pants. 

When the door swings open, he panics at the sight of you, heartbeat quickening again. You’re dressed in your lounge clothes, relaxed and casual, and now that there’s no longer an obstruction, he can hear the sound of your favorite movie playing in the background. He hates, it but you’ve always forced him to watch it with you, and he thinks he’s memorized the entire script by now with the amount of times you’ve watched it together. No matter how much he disliked it, he could watch it over and over again as long as it was with you. But now you are watching it without him, and the thought makes his heart hurt. 

He gulps, watching you appraise him with one hand on the door, as if you might close it any second. A few moments pass. Atsumu opens and closes his mouth, words failing him, making him angry. He even rehearsed what he was going to say in the car, while face timing his brother, on the way to your door, yet it's all disappeared into nothing when it came down to it. His throat is dry. He thinks wants to cry. 

When Atsumu looks at you, he thinks you look tired, moreso than usual, but he thinks you still look as beautiful as ever. He’s always thought you were beautiful, no matter what you were wearing, what you were doing, the face you were making, but he’s never actually told you, unless it was slipped into a joke that caused you not to take him seriously. He wants to tell you, though, every second of the day. Wants to exclaim it for the world to hear. He hopes he gets to, eventually, if he didn’t ruin everything yet.

You sigh, and right when you’re about to say something, Atsumu beats you to it. 

“Hi! Uh — hey. Hi,” he stumbles out, words falling on top of each other. He cringes. 

You’re unimpressed, giving him a flat look that slowly snuffs out the little hope he had left. “Miya,” you say. 

That's the nail in the coffin, he thinks. His face crumbles, but he tries to play it off, forcing a smile that he’s sure looks a bit too wobbly. “It's Miya, now? What happened ta ‘Tsumu?”

You ignore him. “What do you want?”

He hesitates, wondering if he should just walk away now, but he has nothing left to lose. “Can we please talk?” He mumbles. 

Your fingers clench on the door, causing it to sway, and just when he thinks you’ll shut it on him, you pull it open wider, allowing him in.

When you turn your back, he releases a breath, cracking his knuckles and nodding to himself. You both end up in the kitchen, you standing on one side of the counter and pouring glasses of water, him standing on the other, watching you work. You slide the glass over, and he grabs it but doesn’t make a move to bring it to his mouth. 

“So what do you want to talk about?” You ask. Your tone is clipped. You don’t look him in the eye, no matter how much he tries to meet your gaze. He doesn’t like seeing you like this, without a smile on your face. He hates it even more that he’s the reason. 

Steeling himself, he begins. “I want ta apologize,” Atsumu says. His words cause you to briefly glance at him, but then you’re lifting the glass to your lips instead of replying. He gives you a chance to decide if you want to hear him out, or instead kick him to the curb. 

The glass hits the counter. You rest your palms on the surface, settling on a nod. “Okay.” 

“‘M sorry,” he says. He studies your face carefully. You don’t give anything away as you stare at the counter except for a twitch of your eyebrows, the edges of your lips turning down the smallest amount. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.” 

“I was an idiot,” he continues. “I - I dunno why I got so defensive, why I stopped listening ta what ya were tryna say, and instead blew up.” You’re actually looking at him now, but your face is still cold. 

His hands pull at his hair. He starts rounding the corner, fingers dragging along the chill of the counter, hoping you’re able to see the sincerity in his face. “I’m really sorry for bein’ a bad friend ta ya,” he concludes. 

You stare at him in silence, and he thinks he might be getting to you until you look away. Atsumu panics, opening his mouth to say something else, continue his apology, but then you’re speaking.

“You were a bad friend, ‘Tsumu. You know I didn’t mean to offend you. I really didn’t,” you say, and the way your poker face has dropped, revealing the anxious furrow between your eyebrows that he’s always wanted to smooth out whenever you got it, the downturn of your lips. Your voice is quiet, sad. Your eyes flit between his, and he knows you can see the water that lines the bottom of his lids that he tries to blink away.

“Fuck, I know that now, and I- I really wish I knew in the moment.” He’s in front of you now, a small space left between the two of you. “I was a fuckin’ idiot, as always. I bet ‘Samu’s laughing to himself right now.”

That makes you smile, just the tiniest bit, and he counts it as a win. “You really were.” 

He nods, stepping closer. “The biggest idiot in the world, as he would say.” 

“The biggest ever.” You agree, but the grin has spread on your lips, the furrow gone. He watches you study him, and he steps forward, hesitating, but then you’re throwing your arms around him, and his snake around your waist, pulling you in. 

It always makes his heart melt, turns his stomach into a butterfly field, being this close to you. He holds you, smelling your hair, taking in the heat radiating from your body, the warmth he’s missed with all his soul these last few days. “‘M sorry,” he mumbles into your hair, rubbing your back with his hand the way he knows you like whenever he gives you a hug. “Do ya think ya could ever forgive me?” 

You hum, clutching the back of his shirt as you hurry your face into his chest. “Maybe in a few years.”

“How about days?”

“Months.”

“Hours?” 

“Don’t push your luck now.”

He laughs, and he feels so happy that he thinks he can fly when your giggle follows.

Pulling away, you look him in the eyes and shake your head at him, pulling a serious face. “The next time you pull that shit I’m never talking to you again, though.” 

“Yes, m’am,” he says, and then when you smile, he hugs you again. 

Until he remembers the movie. “Wait, ya were watching it without me?!” He exclaims, hands on your shoulders to separate you from him. 

Your eyes are wide, a confused look on your face before you realize what he’s talking about. “I thought you hated that movie!” 

He folds his arms on his chest, looking away from you and pouting. He knows he’s acting like a child, but he can’t help it. He feels betrayed. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like watching it with you…” He mumbles, voice trailing off.

You’re silent, causing him to look at you in worry, but he quickly diverts his gaze again when he sees the shit-eating grin on your face. “So you do enjoy watching it! I knew it!”

“Thats not what I said!”

“Awwwwwww, ‘Tsumuuuu.”

“Shaddapppp.”

(But when you’re settled together on the couch with the movie playing on the TV, popcorn between the two of you, Atsumu knows that he could do this a hundred times over as long as its with you. Not that he’d ever admit it out loud, though.)

#- atsumu #- noelle writes #- hq #atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu fluff #haikyuu fluff #miya atsumu x reader #- atsumu fic #- fics

[slut4msby]

Happy New Year? Miya Atsumu x Fem!Reader

+ tags & warnings; suggestive content, heavily implied smut, atsumu and reader did the deed :0??, borderline fuckboy!atsumu [i have a soft spot for fuckboy!atsumu], not proofread, implied ex bf but no one is specified other than being a vb player so use ur imagination qts :3

+ a/n; hey guys! i'm lea :3. this is my first fic on tumblr in YEARS i used to have an account long long long ago that like NO ONE would know so this is my welcome back ig ;p have some fuckboy!atsumu tehheeheh [i want fuckboy!atsumu so bad or maybe i just have issues teheheh]. also its dec 31 when i post this so HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! stay safe and take care x

Waking up on your own has become a tradition on New Year's Day. For the past three years, a very lonely past three years. Ever since your partner had broken up with you. 

This year was no different, waking up in an empty bed - but not your bed? The realisation left you in confusion. Your eyes darted around the room, cologne, dirty clothes, sports trophies and empty water bottles filled the room. How classy. You sat up against the headboard, head pounding from the alcohol that had consumed your body the night before. Despite its uncleanliness it was a nice room at its core. The problem is, you don't know when you got here or how you got here. Matter of fact if you were even still in the country.

“Hey Doll.” A shirtless figure called from the doorway, a towel wrapped around his waist, his V-line on full display. He was fit, no one could deny that. His blonde hair messy from his shower, his body littered with hickies and scratches - your hickies and scratches. “You really did a number on me huh?” He let out a soft chuckle.

You tried to respond but your body was still in a state of shock from the man you had managed to catch.

“You alright princess? You seemed to be a lot louder and confident last night.” He teased, walking towards you taking a seat on his bed. “You know, you look good in my shirt.” He adds on in reference to the oversized t-shirt which accompanied your body. He shuffled closer to you, he planted another kiss on your neck over one of the many purple marks he had given you last night, “could get used to having you around.”

“Me?” You question, he only nods in response. 

He grabs your face in his hand. You couldn’t deny his hands were nice, they were big and he obviously knew how to use them. He moved you to look at him, forcing tension. You couldn’t lie from what you could remember is that he was good. He pulled you closer and closer, looking at your lips and then your eyes. “Can I?” He asks.

“Can you?” You respond giving him your infamous ‘fuck-me eyes’.

“Oh doll, we both know we can.” He mutters against your lips, before pulling you in for a kiss which you very happily accept. 

That’s when the memories come back, you could never forget a kiss like that. You remember Kuroo forcing you to a party and meeting him, Atsumu Miya.

“C’moonnnnnnnn n/n-chan it will be fun.” Kuroo begged.

“Tetsu, I don’t know I am happy alone.”

“You’re so boring now n/n-chan.” He pouts. He knows that sentence will rile you up. “You used to be the life of the party y/n.”

“Used to? Oh baby I still am.”

“Then come to the party n/n.”

“Fine.”

You remember walking in and being greeted by Bokuto who you hadn't seen in years. Completely ditching the volleyball scene after your ex-boyfriend. Bokuto was still as huge and friendly as always. You greeted all the familiar faces and were even introduced to some new ones. It was nice. As the hours went on the alcohol overtook your body. 

You had found yourself on a couch on top of him - Atsumu Miya. 

“Woahh pretty girl slow down.” He pulls away from the kiss a string of saliva breaking you apart as he does so. “What's yer name, pretty girl?” He asks before leaving light kisses on your neck forcing a gasp out of you.

“L/n.” You say quickly, “y/n l/n.”

“Pretty name for a pretty girl.” He says continuing kissing down your neck. He would have gone further right then and there however your rendezvous was cut short by Bokuto and Kuroo calling your name. And you thought that was gonna be the last encounter with the mystery man.

“Ohhhh~ n/n-chan getting it on with tsum-tsum.” Bokuto teases.

“N/n is lonelyyyyyy.” Kuroo slurs.

The teasing continued all night, however at 11:58pm everyone started gathering around for the countdown, you were convinced this is the fourth year you would be lonely. Before you felt an arm snag your waist.

“Hey pretty girl.” He purrs into your ear.

“Oh it’s you.”

“I have a name y’know princess?”

Silence.

“Do yer seriously not know who I am.”

“Egotistical by the sound of it, pretty boy.” You respond.

“Atsumu Miya. Y’know? MSBY’s setter?”

“Right. I like pretty boy more.” You giggle.

5

“Yer won't be moaning that tonight trust me doll.”

4

3

2

1

Atsumu pulls you in for a kiss, “So you wanna take me up on that offer princess?”

You can’t help but nod eagerly.

Happy New year to you indeed.

©slut4msby.

#haikyuu #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu smut #atsumu smut #atsumu miya smut #hq x reader #haikyuu x you #implied smut #anime x reader #x reader #anime smut #x female reader #x reader smut #fem reader #fuckboy!atsumu #slut4msby #lea's stories :3

[depravitycentral]

Haikyuu Dick Headcannons Pt. 1

Ft. the Inarizaki men: Shinsuke Kita, Aran Ojiro, Rintarou Suna, Atsumu Miya, Osamu Miya

tw: excessive talk of dicks/cum, yandere undertones, no protection, allusions to anal but nothing explicit, fem reader, MDNI

He’s just barely over five inches, but he’s got enough girth to get you wincing every time he slips inside you. Overall, his cock is very masculine; hard lines, perfectly straight, with a prominent vein that runs diagonally across his shaft. He likes it when you trace along it, either with your tongue or your finger, always making him quickly suck in a breath. He’s moderately sensitive, but it you want to make Shinsuke crumble then you have to aim for his balls – they’re heavy, constantly full, always ready to emptied, preferably into you. The moment your nimble fingers touch the sensitive skin, Shinsuke’s groaning, his jaw working as he tries to steady his breathing, not wanting to come too quickly from just a few simple touches. He lets out these airy hisses of breath when you squeeze at them, almost sounding like he’s trying to hold back any noise – but you’ll see the dead give away of his pleasure with the way his thighs tense up.

His cum is thick, to the point where it takes a while when it drips down your face, feeling warm and sticky. It’s difficult to clean because it’s so sticky, getting everywhere and staying there, and it tends to glob up. It’s messy, and normally Shinsuke would hate it, but when it’s on you, it’s different. And god, when it’s inside of you, some switch gets flipped in his brain, the way it dribbles out of you making him feral. He likes to gather any leaking out of you and smear it across the inside of your thighs, pressing kisses against the skin and tasting himself on his tongue. If given the preference, he will always come inside you, and he tends to groan your name when he’s finishing. It’s higher than normal, sounding strained, and he’ll always shut his eyes tightly, the pleasure overwhelming him as he releases inside you. He always kisses you as the last few spurts leak from his tip, his tongue desperately toying with yours, his hands gripping onto your sides and thighs to try and ground him. He gets a bit carried away when he comes, the feeling making his head spin, and you can hear it in the way he breathes so heavily, see it in the way his cock twitches inside you, long after he’s given you every drop he can.

His favorite way that you touch him is when you clench around him when he’s fucking you in a mating press. It’s his favorite position; the angle, the view, how close he can get to you. He likes to keep your knees pressed as tightly as possibly, opening you up and leaving your pretty little pussy open for him. His eyes always manage to wander down your body to where he’s thrusting into you, watching the way he sinks into you again and again, disappearing inside you only to pull back out. He gulps when he sees the white ring slowly forming at his base, standing out against his pale skin and only getting bigger with each thrust back inside you. He likes the way the angle makes you feel tighter around him, the sensation making him grasp onto you tighter. He’s able to hit all those spots that get you moaning this way, and with each pounding against your g-spot, you clench down on him even tighter, until he eventually loses it and lets go, burying himself as deeply inside as possible so as much of his cum stays in as it can. He likes the way your cunt flutters around him in this position, massaging him and pushing him through his own orgasm. And when he pulls out, he especially loves the way it makes this graphic, dirty schlucking noise, as if your cunt doesn’t want to let him go, that one last suction on his cock making him want to fuck you all over again.

He’s a solid six inches with moderate girth, a thoroughly filling cock that’ll make every hole feel stuffed no matter how he fucks you. He does his best to stay trimmed and groomed, but he likes to keep things a bit longer because he doesn’t like the way he looks cleanshaven. He’s not especially sensitive, but he finds the way that feels best for him is steady, consistent stimulation – expect rhythmic motions with him, especially when he’s in your mouth and in your cunt. If you really want to get him shivering, though, you can target the spot at the base of his cock, on the underside right above his balls. He won’t moan when you brush your fingers along it, but he’ll stiffen up, Adam’s apple bobbing and his hand grabbing your wrist, motioning you to do it again. He especially likes it when you lick there, rubbing circles with your tongue as he sighs and subconsciously pulls your head even closer.

        His cum is kind of watery, and tends to run once it lands. It’s easy to clean up, though, which is a good thing because he’s a bit fan of coming on your body rather than inside you or down your throat. He shoots the first round, but if he comes more than once he dribbles, the volume significantly reduced. He always lets out this breathy moan of your name when he’s coming, sounding almost as if he’s in pain. He throws his head back, eyes fluttering closed, and you can see the way his entire hips twitch alongside his cock, everything bobbing up and down from the jerky motions. He prefers to come on either your stomach or your ass, depending on which is available when he pulls out, but his favorite will always be your pretty cheeks, all round and soft and perfect to touch and grope. He’ll pull out and start vigorously fisting himself, his other hand finding purchase on one asscheek, squeezing harshly and groping, before lining his cock up with your ass and letting go, watching as spurts land over your clenched pussy and asshole, the white getting all over you. It makes him groan at the sight, and he’ll often lightly smack your ass, rubbing your cheeks together and then pulling them apart just to admire the sight again.

His favorite way for you to touch him is when you grind on him. Specifically, he likes when he’s standing behind you, your perfect little ass rubbing against his crotch, slowly getting him hard and pressing insistently against you. He likes the way it feels to have dull stimulation for a long period of time, and if you’re able to keep it up for a while, he’ll eventually be able to come this way. He likes when you’re leaning on something, and often he’ll ambush you against the kitchen counter, starting by humping at you like some dog in heat before letting you take over and grind back against him. Sometimes he’ll bring his hands up under your shirt to cup at your bare breasts, squeezing and pinching your nipples. He likes the way you feel so desperate against him, and how, if you’re wearing nothing and only his boxers are covering him, he can feel your wetness through the fabric, teasing him and making him ache for more. He likes riling you up, and while sex with you feels amazing, sometimes the buildup can be better than the finale.

He’s roughly five and a half inches, definitely enough for you to work with, though he is on the skinnier side. He’s not very veiny, instead just a lovely, smooth cock – pretty and without any blemishes, the kind you see and just want to touch and suckle. A small tuft of brown hair sits atop his shaft, a few hairs spread across the set of balls that a pinker color than the rest of him. The closer he gets to coming, the redder his cock gets, especially near the tip – it swells, too, the blood rush leaving him dizzy and making him fuck you even harder. He produces an above average amount of precum; when he’s kissing you and his hands are all over your body, excitement buzzing in his veins at the prospect of getting you naked and moaning his name, his boxers are already forming wet patches, a big, sticky mess when you eventually get them off. He’s a bit embarrassed by it, worried it makes him look too eager and desperate for you, but if you just compliment him and tell him that you’re excited too, he’ll just stutter out your name and look away, embarrassment mixing with bashfulness.

               He’s a shooter but it doesn’t go too far, you have to get a bit close to get it on your body. His cum is always very warm and feels nice on your skin, even as it starts to dry. It’s opaque and unfortunately pretty bitter, but he really likes it when you swallow it. He won’t force you to, but watching the way your pretty throat bobs as you take it all makes his cock twitch, a small, sad spurt of whatever his body can scrounge up leaking out of his oversensitive tip. He’ll just stop and stare when you do this, lips slightly parted and harsh breaths coming out, his eyes a bit wide, the smallest whisper of your name on his lips. He’s also quite partial to finishing on your chest, especially if it’s cold in the room and your nipples are all hard and taut. He likes the way it runs down them, dribbling down to form little droplets, and sometimes he’ll lean in and suck them off, teeth lightly nibbling on the sensitive skin. He just likes seeing his cum on you, and it’s especially erotic to have it in such a dirty place.

               He’s got this fantasy of you just absolutely manhandling him – in the bedroom he’s normally a bit more dominant (though very much a soft dom, if only because he really genuinely wants to make you feel good – his eagerness is almost palpable), but he secretly wants you to take control, and this extends towards your treatment of his cock, too. He wants you to suck him off, but to have your way with him; he wants you to grip him with force, your pretty fingers wrapped around his length while you lick at him, smiling up at him as you squeeze, tightly enough to make him hiss through his teeth, your thumb coming up to quickly swipe at his tip, making sure to pass over his slit. He wants you to suck at him, pressing wet, slobbery kisses up the sides but never quite the tip, never quite where he needs you. He wants you to tease him, to make his breath stutter and his muscles flex, but to never quite let him fall over the edge, keeping him right where you want him. He wants you to vigorously take him down your throat, bobbing your head up and down and blindly grope at his balls while he clenches his teeth and shuts his eyes, only to pull away completely, smiling up at him and telling him to hold on, not yet, I’m not through with you yet. He wants you to edge him until the last possible moment, and when you whisper to him that he can finally finish, he’s immediately coming, a grunt that sounds more like a shout falling past his lips. He just likes the idea of you using him for your pleasure, and while he’ll never voice this fantasy, every time he fucks his fist to the thought of you it’s what’s swirling through his mind.

It’s a solid five inches, with perfectly groomed black hairs framing the base. He’s meticulous about upkeep; he spends easily ten minutes out of every shower just trimming up, leaving a very short layer of hair there to make sure everything looks inviting for you, but not too perfect; he doesn’t want you to think he spends as long worrying about it as he does. (He wants you to think it’s effortless, like he’s just that sexy.) A few veins dot the length, none standing out super far, but it’s enough to run your tongue over when he’s in your mouth, which gets his knees weakening and nearly buckling. He’s pretty sensitive overall, but his cock visibly throbs when you pay attention to the tip; he likes when you drag your tongue along his slit or run your tongue around it, especially if you pull off of him with a big, wet pop noise. He just twitches a lot, cock jumping and making his balls jump, too. You can even make him twitch visibly through some of his pants if you whisper into his ear, telling him all the dirty things you want to do to him – and if you cup him over his pants, you can feel the movement, the warmth radiating through the fabric, and, if you’re lucky, even a little patch of wetness.

               His cum is runny, leaving a slick residue as it slides along your skin, and an opaque, creamy color. It’s a little bit watery, but he likes the way it looks when it’s on you. It doesn’t taste too bad, but it is a bit salty, though it’s manageable to have in your mouth or to swallow. He dribbles, leaking out of his tip and sliding down his shift while he moans. He needs stimulation throughout his orgasm, and likes when you gently squeeze at his balls, the dull pleasure making his toes curl and prolonging his finish, so that you get every last drop of cum he can give you. He’s a bit whiny when he finishes, his voice higher pitched than normal, and his eyes squeeze shut, eyebrows drawn taut because it feels too good. His abs visibly flutter when he finishes, the muscles contracting and squeezing, while he tilts his chin back and tries to hump at whatever is still touching him. He really likes to finish on your face; seeing you painted in him makes him horny all over again, his cock springing to life mere minutes later because fuck, you look good covered in his cum. He also has a thing for finishes on your pussy, with you spreading the cute little lips so that he can see your clenched hole, his cum looking perfect all smeared across your thighs and folds.

               His favorite way for you to touch him is when you ride him. He likes the way you clench him, the feeling different than every other way he fucks you. He likes when you go nice and slow, dragging your walls up and down his length, massaging the sensitive skin and making him grip onto your thighs. The way your ass feels as it claps down onto his balls with every downwards motion makes his head spin, and more often than not his hips will try to chase yours as you move upwards, desperate to keep himself inside you. He likes this position because there’s something about the way you look above him that gets him throbbing inside of you, your pretty tits on full display and easy to grab onto, bouncing in his face when you suddenly pick up the speed near the end. He likes to grab onto them, clutching on tight while you work him up and down, fucking him so impossibly deep that he swears he’s in your stomach, all the while you squeeze down on him harder and harder and harder. Atsumu likes when you alternate between thrusting and grinding, swirling your hips in circular motions and giving him a break when he thinks he’s too close to coming. Something about the motion feels good, and the way your face gets all screwed up in pleasure when you grind his tip against the spongy spot inside you makes precum ooze out of his tip and into you in copious amounts. He just likes when you ride him, kissing him and thumbing his nipples, even reaching behind you to grope at his balls. He comes harder that way, everything slowly dripping out around the both of you and coating his cock as you just keep going.

He’s a little over five inches; a nice, solid cock. It’s the perfect size to fill you up, stretching you out and making you hiss ever so slightly when he pushes into you, but not too much to hurt – he’s truly the perfect fit. He has this strange tendency of kind of man handling it; his calloused fingers will often grip himself at the base, running his tip through your folds or smacking your clit with it, liking the way you’re so soft and warm against him. He’s unfortunately not especially sensitive, so it takes him a while to come, but he actually kind of likes it because it makes him last a lot longer in bed, and he can multitask better. (It makes his thumb sneaking down to circle at your clit while he fucks you with your leg over his shoulder easier, more of his focus going into the movement so he can get tight, controlled figure eights against your sensitive bud and make you tremble.) Ironically, after he’s come he’s much more sensitive – he’s easily overstimulated and has to pull out immediately, otherwise his legs start shaking and his grunts become more like moans.

He’s a shooter, cock twitching with every spurt that splatters against you, contracting in time with his abs. It’s thick; when you rub it between your fingers it’s slimy, and smells like musk and an odd undertone of sweetness. It actually tastes good, or as good as it can get, all thanks to his diet – it makes you want to take him in your mouth, to suck the cum off your fingers, and while it still makes Osamu flush a bit every time you hum in content, he likes it. Especially when you have a drop or two still on your lip, dribbling down your chin, making you look so dirty. He’s a grunter, the sounds deeps and guttural, starting in the bottom of his chest and climbing up and up. Tends to grunt your name as he gets close, the letters blurring together until he’s slurring it out, melding it into one word that eventually just turns into a strangled nghh noise. His hips buck up when he comes, often times unexpectedly, which can sometimes choke you a bit if he’s in your mouth, or get you yelping as he reaches just a bit deeper inside you when he’s stuffed into your little cunt.

His favorite way for you to touch him is when you cockwarm him. He likes mixing sex and domesticity, and he likes having you perched in his lap, cunt all stuffed with him while your arms are around his shoulders, face buried comfortably in his neck. He likes to do paperwork while you warm him, his cheeks a slight red while the pen flies across the page, his free hand parked securely on your ass. He likes the way your walls clamp down on him, all warm and wet and soft, and because he’s not that sensitive, sometimes he’ll even forget he’s inside you until one of you moves, and oh – The shocked little groan he lets out will have you keening and grinding down on him, desperate for him to just fuck you. Osamu likes to see how long he can hold out – how long you can hold out – but most of the time these little sessions end with you bent over his desk, ass bare face pressed into his paperwork while he pounds into you like a man possessed.  He even likes to cockwarm in softer, sweeter settings – watching a movie together, with the blanket thrown over you and your cunt sucking him in, his balls sitting tightly against your ass while you laugh at the movie, his eyes on you and his mind fixating on the way your every chuckle makes you clench, so that you’re even tighter, something that makes his fingers dig into your sides.  Even these sessions end with fucking – he just has to have you once he’s been inside you for hours already.

#yandere haikyuu #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #_lee's headcannons #_inarizaki #_atsumu miya #_osamu miya #_rintarou suna #_aran ojiro #_shinsuke kita #_haikyuu

[lou-struck]

Seat 14F

Atsumu Miya x reader

WC: 1.3k 

~You are peacefully getting ready for your flight home in your long awaited window seat until your talkative seat buddy arrives. 

A/n: I am having so much fun finishing some of these WIPS. I hope you enjoy this one.

The terminal beneath your feet echoes the hollow yet eager sound that is created by your footsteps. The beige hallway twists and turns until you see a fight attendant gesturing you into the cabin with a large red-lipsticked smile. 

“Welcome aboard,” he beams as you step onto the plane.

“Thank you.” You smile back and readjust the strap on your backpack so it’s tighter to your back and at less of a risk of smacking the others in the face as you pass them. Their crumpled boarding pass is in your hand as they make their way down the long aisle. They had only started boarding minutes ago, but already, you see people slumped in their seats, softly snoring into their neck pillows. 

You are in Seat 14F, a window seat. There is something so comforting about having an extra wall to lean up upon in case you were to find yourself drifting off on this flight. 

Your eyes scan the row makers as you pass,

Row 9, 10, 11, 13. 

Row 14 is completely empty as you come to a stop, sliding past the first two seats on the right-hand side of the plane and tucking your travel backpack underneath the seat in front of you to save yourself from a lecture from the flight attendant later. 

You feel your phone in your pocket as you sit down in your seat, which apparently can be used as a flotation device should the plane come down over a body of water. Knowing you’ll most likely forget to do it later, choose now to turn the device into airplane mode and slip it into the mesh netting in front of you for later. With your phone gone, you choose to entertain yourself by watching out the little oval window as airline workers load the bottom of the plane with everyone’s luggage. 

Peering at the little cart, you try to see if you can spot them loading the suitcases you checked. Your white plastic one and the other one…

“Well, isn’t this my lucky day?” a honeyed voice drawls from behind you. “Looks like I got myself a cute lookin seat, buddy.”

“What brings you here?” you ask, watching as a handsome man with faux-blond hair slides into the seat next to you. He unceremoniously slides a gray backpack underneath his seat before wasting no time in making himself at home. 

“14E,” they beam, flashing you their paper boarding pass. Already, the parchment is crumpled beyond recognition and speckled with droplets of what you assume to be coffee. 

You roll your eyes and send him a playful smile. “Atsumu, I printed that boarding pass for you less than an hour ago. How have you managed to beat it up so badly?”

“Who’s Atsumu?” he asks, cocking his head to the side in mock confusion, obviously wanting to keep flirting terribly with you for as long as he can. “I’m uhhh.” he scratches his head in thought, “Mr. Handsome Stranger.”

You sigh as he continues this little ruse of his. “Well then, Mr. Stranger, have a seat.” You place your earbuds into your ear and try to keep a look of disinterest on your face as you scroll through your downloaded podcast episodes. 

“It’s Mr. Handsome Stranger.” He pouts, his cheeks puffing out comically, and he sits down in the seat next to you. From the corner of your eye, you see him looking at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes he can muster. When they spot something shiny on your finger, they gleam, and you can practically see the cogs turning in that pretty head of his. 

“Well, that’s a real nice ring on yer finger,” he hums, leaning well into your personal space; now that he’s closer, you can smell the mint gum he’s chewing, and you can’t help but wonder if it’s his attempt to cover his coffee breath. 

“Thank you,” you sigh, shifting in your seat and admiring the gem yourself in the light of your small oval window. “I got it from my Fiance.”

“Not husband?” he winks, “I guess I still have a chance with you then.”

You laugh at his terrible flirting like the hypocrite you are. Because that same flirtiness that (unbeknownst to you) is causing the other passengers to cringe in their seats was able to ensnare you over two years ago.

“Is there a problem here?” the flight attendant from earlier comes over with a stern expression. Their eyes narrow when they see the way your goofy fiance is practically on top of you, fiddling with your engagement ring. They make eye contact with you, looking for any kind of discomfort in your expression. “Is he bothering you?”

Atsumu slides off of you and into his seat quickly. His cheeks flush pink in embarrassment. “I-it’s not what ya think.” he starts to explain but he is silenced by the commanding gloved hand of the flight attendant who you now think is one of your favorite people on earth. 

People are watching, listening, just waiting for the moment to step in and rescue you. If it wasn’t some big misunderstanding, you would feel that your faith in humanity was restored. 

But you’re not in any danger, so just for a moment, you may as well enjoy this little in-flight entertainment, 

“Sir, did you know it is a crime to interfere with the takeoff and departure of an aircraft?” they ask with a vicious customer service smile. “Is this behavior of yours really worth jail time?”

“Wha?” No, I was just messing around..” Atsumu says in a smaller voice. His tone pulls at your heartstrings, and you know you have to come to his aid. 

“Tsumu, I got this.” You murmur, placing a hand on his bicep as a grounding touch and giving your would-be hero a genuine smile. “I am so sorry about this; this doof is just my fiance. He likes to use those cheesy lines to make me laugh.”

They look between the two of you with a discerning glance before. “Do you promise?” they ask. 

“I promise.” you laugh, relieved that Atsumu is feeling a bit less freaked out now that he isn’t at risk of being dragged off the plane and thrown in jail for his cheesy pickup lines. 

“Here’s my lock screen.” the volleyball player adds, showing the attendant a picture of the two of you wrapped in each other’s arms after one of his games. “We’re together, I swear.”

“Awe, cute.” the attendant says, shutting the luggage compartment above your head. “Glad you’re not a creep. We are about to take off soon, so don’t forget to put that phone in airplane mode, hon.”

“R-right, thank ya.” he breathes his fingers, fumbling with his slightly cracked screen protector to switch his device. 

“I see; one moment, please,” they hum, turning and walking down the aisle away from seats 14 E and F, leaving the two of you rather confused at his sudden exit. 

They come back a few moments later and sneakily slides two prepackaged snack boxes over to you. The ones that are only available in first-class cabins. This sly gesture of good faith is very much appreciated by the two of you. 

“Thank ya,” Atsumu whispers happily, unwrapping his miniature charcuterie snack. 

“For what? The attendant asks, looking innocent. “You two enjoy the rest of your flight.” With that, they turned and left to do their pre-flight duties. Now alone, you and Atsumu lock eyes and fall into a fit of laughter. 

“Oooh, you almost got in trouble.” you tease, leaning your head against his shoulder.

 “What do ya think plane jail is like?” he hums, fiddling with your engagement ring. 

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you murmur. “It’s not too late to find out, though, if you want to call the flight attendant back.”

“Oh shuddup,” he chuckles, turning in his seat and kissing the crown of your head. “You wouldn’t do that to me; ya like my flirtin’ too much.”

“Whatever you say, baby.” You smile, prepared to spend the rest of your flight in the arms of the man you love. 

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network

#x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #msby atsumu #atsumu miya #miya atsumu x reader #Atsumu Miya x reader #haikyuu atsumu #atsumu x reader

[osamusriceballs]

More than friends

Osamu Miya x fem! Reader

Warnings: NSFW, dry humping, alcohol

Words: ~3.7 k

About: A night drinking with Atsumu and Osamu leads to an unexpected ending~

_______________________

“C’mn, just do it.“

“Shut it, Tsumu. I’m not gonna do it.“

You silently watch Atsumu laughing even louder than before and Osamu rolling his eyes with a huff. The three of you are seated comfortably in the spacious living room of the twins, a few empty bottles of beer between you, as well as a clear bottle of strong alcohol.

“You’re not doing the dare? Not even telling y/n what it was?“

“No, I’m not. Just keep quiet for once, will ya?“

Atsumu’s smug grin doesn’t falter for a second when he downs another shot and reluctantly gets on his feet. Osamu scoffs at his childish behavior and ignores his existence completely.

“I’m gonna go to bed. Got a practice scheduled early with Bokkun tomorrow. See ya.“

Atsumu waves in your direction and smacks Osamu’s shoulder before he abruptly leaves, his shoulders slightly swaying with each drunken step that he takes before you finally hear the door to his room closing. You doubt that he will make it to practice early tomorrow, and you take a mental note to send a text to Bokuto, warning him that he shouldn’t wait for the blonde setter.

However, right now you’re painfully aware of the situation that you now find yourself in. Your hand tightens around the bottle of beer that you’re holding, your gaze now flickering between the table and Osamu, quickly taking in his appearance. His hair is messy from the way he‘s been running through it ever since you three gathered to drink, his broad shoulders almost threaten to rip the tight black dress shirt that clings to his body, and his spread legs almost invite you to sit in between them. He doesn’t look at you either, his gaze absently focusing the wall behind you, and you feel the weird atmosphere like a heavy weight on your shoulders.

You clear your throat and try to overcome this moment of awkwardness, but it doesn’t seem to work.

Talking with Atsumu is easy. He’s always rambling about something, laughing, or talking about a certain Omi-omi that seems to annoy him very much.

Talking with Osamu on the other hand… He makes you nervous. He makes you blush, he makes your heart flutter, he makes you wonder about more.

“So… what’s the big deal? Why wouldn’t you do the dare?“

He groans and his eyes focus on you again. There is something about his gaze that never fails to send a shiver down your spine. He often has sleepy and heavy-lidded eyes, but when he directly looks at you and puts all of his focus on you- that‘s when your heart always stops a beat. This man will surely be the death of yours.

“You don’t wanna know. Trust me.“

“C’mon, don’t be a party popper. It can’t be that bad if it’s Atsumu’s idea.“

“You’re wrong. It is that bad because it's Atsumu’s idea.“

His lips curl into a smile and he looks down to your empty shot glass, clearly trying to change the subject, which only intrigues you more about it. “You want another?“

“Sure. Tell me about the dare first though.“ You grin and hand him the small shot glass, and he groans again, his head falling back in playful annoyance before he takes the glass out of your hand and starts pouring the clear liquid into it and then into his own.

“I just wanna make clear that it was Atsumu’s idea. He wanted me to kiss you. Told ya, it was stupid.“

The way he doesn’t even hesitate to say it, his voice not even trembling nor is his gaze nervously flickering. He nonchalantly states this without giving it a second thought- and it feels like he just punched you.

“Oh. Okay.“ You force a laugh out of your mouth, a laugh that sounds forced and fake and cringe, even to your ears.

You’re absolutely sure that kissing Osamu would be great. However, not that you would ever get the chance to try. He rolls his eyes and simply hands you the full shot glass, his hand not touching yours for even a single second, like you’d burn him through physical contact.

“Don’t think about it please.“

“Okay.“ You take the full shot glass out of his hand and down it without a second thought. He does the same with his shot, and you admire his side profile for a brief second before your gaze starts to roam through the room again.

It’s silent.

Very much silent.

Your own breathing sounds too loud in the quiet room and you nervously grab your beer once again and take a few sips, but Osamu doesn’t move. You can’t look at him though, your gaze now trained to your own hands. You feel somehow rejected, even though you didn’t say anything. Did the mere thought of him kissing you seem so absurd to him? Sure, you both never really showed that kind of interest in particular, but you thought some of your conversations resembled some kind of flirting, and the way he always looked at you never failed to send butterflies to your stomach. Seems like these feelings were completely one-sided though.

A few more moments of silents later that are barely manageable and you decide to call it a day.

“I’m gonna go too. It’s getting pretty late. See ya.“

You force a smile on your face, a smile that you hope looks neutral and not like you’re trying to get the hell out of the apartment, but you’re caught off-guard when he blinks in an irritated way.

“Already? You know you can stay as long as you want. You can sleep on the couch if ya want to.“ He nods towards the luxurious couch in the living room, the one that feels like heaven whenever you slept on it, but now you just want to escape out of the suffocating atmosphere. Every second in his presence just makes the situation more tense.

“No, it’s fine. Really.“ You abruptly get on your feet and quickly take some of the empty glasses and bottles in your hands, not wanting to leave him to clean up the whole mess you three created.

„It’s fine, y/n. I can clean up later.“ Osamu’s voice behind your back is accompanied with the sound of rustling glasses and bottles, and you know that he probably took the remaining dishes with him.

“I can’t leave you with such a mess. I’m sure Atsumu will be too hungover to help you tomorrow, so I don’t mind giving you a hand right now.“ You quickly place the last few dirty glasses in the sink and hurry towards the front door.

You’re sure that Osamu can quickly get rid of the remaining mess, so you basically run towards the front door before he can confront you about your strange behavior.

“Y/n!“

“Hmm?“ You just managed to pull on your coat and turn around- only to find Osamu right in front of you. You take a step back in surprise, but he follows you, one big stride and your back is pressed against the front door, and Osamu is towering in front of you. Your bodies are not touching, there is still some space between the two of you, yet, his sudden approaching sends even more heat to your cheeks, that have probably been burning red ever since you started to drink.

“Ya don’t have to rush.“

His dialect is thick now, his voice somewhat quiet. His eyes are focused on yours, and you forget to breathe for a second- when he looks at you as intently as he does, studying every single of your reactions, and it feels like he casts a spell on you that makes your heart beat faster. He looks so insanely handsome in the dimmed light, his disheveled hair falling into his face, the black strands healthy and smooth after he had stopped dyeing his hair a few years ago. It makes you want to touch them, to brush the hair out of his face to see his eyes better, to bury your hands into his hair, to grab his broad shoulders and press your chest against his-

“I’m not rushing. It’s just late, you know.“ You force another polite smile on your face, a smile that doesn't feel convincing at all judging from his reaction.

“Okay.“ He hesitantly nods after studying your face for another second and takes a small step back, just enough for you to be able to open the door. When you take a step towards his direction though, he suddenly grabs your wrist and pulls you towards him, with enough force to have you stumbling the single step, but his free arm quickly wraps around your hip and keeps you from falling.

You’re too shocked to say something, you probably look like a fish out of the water with your mouth wide open and your widened eyes, yet he doesn’t release you nor lets go of you. You’re painfully aware of the small distance between the two of you- or rather: the non-existent distance, and you feel your heart racing in your chest with your body pressed against his. His hand around your wrist is warm, his grip tight, yet gentle- but your brain just fails completely at understanding what’s going on.

He leans down and suddenly releases your wrist to cup your chin, tilting your face until your eyes directly meet- and that’s when you forget how to breathe. Your body feels stiff and hot while you’re being pressed against him, and you subconsciously bring your hands to his chest to create some distance between the two of you, but he doesn’t even budge the slightest bit.

“Are ya upset? That I didn’t kiss ya?”

“What- what are you talking about?” You wiggle in his grip, but he doesn’t falter for a second. He brings his face closer to yours, so close that you can feel his breath on your lips when he’s talking again, his voice deeper this time, more attractive.

“What would you have done if I kissed ya? Tell me, y/n.” You pause with your movements, staying completely frozen and unable to move.

“I- I don’t know.” Your breath come shallow, you feel like there is not enough oxygen coming to your brain and leaving you in a hazy and hot state- and it’s hot, oh, so hot, the way his gaze flickers to your lips and then to your eyes again.

“Wanna find out then?”

Your fingers curl into his shirt, but you’re not pushing him away. You can barely focus when he comes even closer, so close that his lips are slightly touching yours, and you involuntarily close your eyes and lean forward, just a little bit to close the distance between the two of you.

His hand on your hip freezes for a second, now it’s his body that seems surprisingly stiff, now that you simply decided to kiss Osamu Miya- but he quickly regains composure and initiates a deeper kiss- still soft and delicate, his hand gingerly cupping your cheek and tilting your face to kiss you in a deeper angle. Your lips move against his, the addicting feeling of him kissing you so tenderly slowly creating a feeling of hunger in your body. Your heart rate goes through the roof for sure, but you don’t care. Not when he’s kissing you like that, when he is holding you like you would break if he just applied too much pressure. “Samu-“ you gasp when he pulls back to let you both breathe, his forehead resting against yours, and his hand now moving to your lower back to hold you steady.

“Y/n,” he whispers against your lips and takes a deep breath. You’re barely able to comprehend what’s going on, and you feel your body trembling in his hold, yet you still don’t move back.

Osamu Miya just kissed you, and it was great. So great that you want more kisses- more of him, that you’re growing greedy for more.

“Would you have kissed me back in front of Tsumu?”

“Can we please not talk about your twin brother now?” You huff at his words, not believing that he has the nerve to talk about that when you’re still in his arms, growing hotter every second- probably also due to the thick winter coat you’re still wearing.

“I need to take off the coat, Samu. Or leave- what do you want me to do now?”

You look directly in his eyes while you say the words, knowing fully well that your words carry a second meaning. Does he want you to stay? Did the kiss mean something to him? Or did he just want to proof something to himself?

“I’m fine with whatever you decide. You can leave, or you can stay. You can sleep on the couch, or sleep with me. I’m following your pace, y/n.”

“I-“ you’re caught off-guard at his words, barely able to realize that he let go of you and just stands there without touching you, patiently waiting for your answer.

“I want to stay.”

“Okay.” He nods with a small smile, quickly stepping closer and helping you out of the coat like a true gentleman.

“Thanks.” You smile back, excitement but also nervousness making you shiver, but Osamu is quickly by your side again after putting away your coat and takes your hand to lead you to the living room.

“Where do ya wanna sleep? I can get the couch ready in a minute if ya want to.”

“I… I want to sleep with you.” You feel the heat rushing to your cheeks, and you hope that you don’t look too flustered while you’re avoiding his gaze, but he squeezes your hand reassuringly and thankfully refrains from replying with a mocking comment.

“Your pace. Tell me when yer uncomfortable. I can always go and sleep on the couch.”

His words are reassuring, and that's what you admire about him. Osamu will always care about your feelings first- that’s just the way he is.

The way to his room is short, it only takes you both a few steps, but his hand holds yours softly until you reach his room.

“Here, I got a shirt for ya.” He hands you a dark, clean shirt from his drawer and nods towards the bathroom, signaling you that you can change there.

“Thank you.”

You quickly come back with his shirt on, a quite comfortable one thankfully, and decide that you will sleep with no pants- not daring to remove them already though. Osamu is already ready to sleep, sitting shirtless on the bed with the blanket covering his lower half, that you assume is only clothed in a pair of boxers. You probably shouldn‘t stare too much, but you can‘t stop your eyes from flickering down to his broad chest and to his strong arms, but he doesn’t seem to mind you eyeing him up.

He raises a brow though and smiles after scanning your figure for a few seconds, and his gaze heats up your cheeks once again. He suddenly nods and flicks a switch next to his bed, and the room immediately darkens. You can barely see his silhouette when you finally sit on the bed after quickly removing your pants.

“I’m just gonna lay here?” You ask, now slightly regretting not being able to see his face. An agreeing hum leaves him, and you quickly slip under the covers next to Osamu. You don‘t dare to move though, your body awkwardly laying on the edge of the bed.

It’s silent for a few moments, and you internally debate whether he has already fallen asleep, or if he’s laying just as stiff as you. His breathing pattern sounds relaxed, but you can’t help but to wish that you were closer to him. Would he mind if you just slipped a little closer?

You carefully inch your body closer to his, trying to cause as few movement and sounds on the bed as possible, but when you accidentally touch his bare arm, you can hear his breath stock. His hand suddenly comes up and grabs your upper arms and before you know what’s happening, you find yourself under him.

“Samu-“ you gasp, but your gasp gets interrupted when you feel his lips against yours. Not in the same way as before- there is nothing soft about it. It’s hungry and needy, his tongue flicking against your lip to urge you to open your mouth for him- which you gladly do with a low moan.

It just feels right. To lay in Osamu’s arms, to have his lips on yours, to feel his bodyweight on top of you- it all feels so intimate and good-

“I like ya. A lot.” He suddenly rasps between your kisses, his voice now thick and clouded with lust, and he kisses you again, deeper with more fever. You deepen the kiss as response, your hands slipping under his shirt and roam to his wide shoulders, feeling his bare skin, feeling how the muscles tense under your touch. You slightly scratch him with your nails- not enough to hurt him, but enough to leave a mark.

“Fuck, yer drivin’ me crazy.” He pulls back and groans against your neck at the sensation of your nails against his back, his hips suddenly bucking into yours, and you arch your back at the feeling of his hardened cock against your clothed pussy.

“Shit, Samu- do that again-“ you gasp, your head thrown back, and you moan his name again when he grinds against you a little harder, the friction sending a wave of pleasure through your body. Your legs wrap around his body, spreading you even more for him, and you’re pretty sure that he will be able to feel how wet you are for him even through both of your underwear, yet it only spurs him on further and he props himself up on his elbows and thrusts his hips in a slow rhythm.

“Feels really good, Samu,” you let one of your hands wander to his chest, feeling his muscles tense with every thrust he’s doing, feeling his heartbeat that is just as fast as yours.

“Imagine how good it would feel without clothes. When I- fuck- when I fuck you as hard and long as you want. Make ya nice and wet for me, make ya cum on my tongue, my fingers- and then- thenI would fuck ya with my cock.” You feel your cunt pulsing with every single of his words- fuck- why is Osamu Miya so good at dirty talk? Who would have thought that the ever so calm and collected Osamu would have such a dirty mouth?

“Please, Samu- want to feel you, want you to fuck me.” You whine, desperately rubbing yourself against him, and you hear him curse, you feel him throb in his boxers, but he just goes harder- not faster but harder, as if he wants to force the orgasm out of you by sheer friction against your sensitive clit.

“C’mon, y/n. Be a good girl and show me what ya look like when yer cummin’. Want ya to cum for me now, pretty girl-“ his lips are attached to your neck now, greedily sucking and biting the skin, leaving a few marks for sure- but you don’t care. Not when he’s got you so close to cumming, not when you feel like you could burst any second.

And you do.

A few more thrusts later, and you feel yourself cumming, the friction against your clothed clit enough to send you to heaven, and you grab his shoulders while you scream his name. Your body arches up, your muscles deliciously tensing and contracting, the heat now almost consuming you. So much that you barely realize that he kept on groaning your name and whispers of praises, of how pretty you look when you cum for him, how you’re such a good girl for him, how he wants you to keep cumming just for him- and you do.

You don’t know how much time has passed, when you suddenly realize that he’s cumming too- that his body tenses and he suddenly grabs your shoulders with his body weight almost crushing you, but you don’t mind it. You feel his cock twitching against your core, and a wet sensation and you swear he makes the hottest sounds you have ever heard when he’s groaning your name and moans against your skin.

Both of your chests are heaving heavily, and you barely realize that he rolls to his side and presses you against his chest to avoid crushing you completely. Not that you would have minded that. You wrap your shaky legs around him and push him closer, not caring about the fact that you’re both covered in sweat. His hands rest on your back, his right one rubbing circles on your back and softly caresses your skin under the shirt you’re still wearing, and you contently hum against his chest.

He easily manages to make you feel comfortable and worshiped, to show his affection to you with his little gestures.

“Ya wanna eat somethin’? I have your favorite onigiri in the fridge. Or do ya wanna take a shower? Or a bath?” His chest vibrates against your cheek while he’s talking, and you feel your heart swell with affection at his caring words.

“I’m too worn out for anything. How about breakfast in bed tomorrow and then a bath together?”

He presses a kiss to your temple, and you can basically feel his smile when he answers. “Sounds like a good plan. We also need to talk about “us“ when we get up.”

Your breath stocks for a second at his words, a sudden panic suddenly growing in your chest.

“So… that means there is a “us“ now?”

“I came in my underwear from dry humping ya. In case ya can’t tell, that makes us more than just friends.” You can’t see his face but you know that he’s rolling his eyes while he reassuringly rubs your back and still refuses to let you go.

“More than friends, hum?” You muse, while he keeps on rubbing circles on your back, and you know that he won't let you go tonight- or ever.

“Sounds good.”

#haikyuu fanfiction #smut #osamu x reader #osamu smut #osamu #osamu miya #well #first thing I wrote this year #happy valentine's day #!!! <3 #wishing you all a wonderful day!! <3 #feels good to write again <3 #I'm working already on a few other things! #so I'm sure I'll be able to post more soon <3 #i feel like I’ll get to my old level if I write some more #need to practice I’m definitely rusty 🥹🥹

[kunigmis]

let’s hold each other in our sleep

miya atsumu x female!reader

synopsis: miya atsumu can’t sleep at night unless it’s after a slow, love-felt fuck that ends with you cozied up in his arms.

content warnings: minors do not interact! atsumu and reader are in their 20s, passionate sex, use of the petnames baby and doll, unprotected sex, dry humping, he sucks your tongue like it’s candy, it’s kind of messy…

WHEN ATSUMU GETS HOME that night, he’s tired and walking with lazy legs. they feel like led and are about ready to give out at any moment. practice had gone on for a while and been much harder than usual, maybe due to the fact nationals were coming up—but, he’s not one to complain about that. whatever he can do to win, he’ll do it.

the door opens without a pair of arms to greet him and atsumu pouts as if a child expecting candy, only to be gifted with steamed vegetables instead. his brows meet as he eases the door shut behind him and lets his volleyball bag drop to the floor beside your coat rack. he has half a mind to call out, but then he worries you may be asleep; and, he wouldn’t want to wake you.

so, atsumu slides his shoes off and slips on his slippers, walking as slowly as he can as to not create a loud rhythm along the hardwood floor. but, there’s an apparent eagerness in his movements.

the lights in the house are all dimmed aside from the kitchen, leaving a ball of light for him to follow. but, when he expects to see you standing there, possibly cooking up a late-night dinner for two, he’s met with an empty room and still no open arms.

it wasn’t too late, about 22:30 or so, and he just can’t quite get as to why you didn’t turn the lights off if you were to be asleep. atsumu knows your tendency to keep things neat and proper; turning the lights off before heading to bed was always your job too. when he’d be in your shared bathroom, brushing and flossing his teeth, you’d be downstairs turning the lights off before heading up. aren’t ya afraid monsters’ll get ya?! his silly little childish antics still evident within his 26-year-old mind.

but, you loved him for that.

he’d wait for you to come up and sit on the toilet seat as you did your own brushing and flossing of your teeth, chatting your ear off about something hinata did at practice that day or about a new dish his brother had cooking up. all the while, you’d nod your head along to what he was saying, showing your attention without needing to verbalize such. and, when you’d finish, atsumu would swoop in and kiss you slowly. nothing sensual about said kiss, but his love for you was shown in the force it had behind it.

it was only when atsumu had scoured the rest of downstairs, and ran upstairs after turning the lights off, did he finally make it to your shared bedroom. and, his eyes about bulged at the sight.

you sat on your bed, dolled up in a sheer red lingerie set. it was lace, bralette cupping the fat of your breasts nicely, and the matching underwear hiding one of his favorite treats in a very teasing manner. you wore a shaw to match as well, and he bet it was almost as smooth as your skin.

“took you long enough, ‘tsumu.” the teasing lilt to your voice was alluring and had atsumu’s cock stirring in his pants. he hadn’t even gotten his hands on you and you already had him leaking pre. God, the things you were capable of.

“sorry doll, someone left the lights on,” he’s making his way toward you quicker than anticipated, not bothering to take notice of the red petals you had scattered along the bed and floor. or maybe he was just too focused on the treat that was you. “coming home to you like this is just what i needed.”

his words hum against the skin of your neck as he teethes at the flesh. he nips and laps, like a dog gone hungry, and runs his calloused hands up and down your sides beneath the shaw. his fingers dance along the hem of your bralette, almost like he’s teetering between the idea of leaving it on or ripping it off. honestly, you hoped he went with the latter.

“missed you,” your voice hitches when atsumu begins to suck at your pulse, the noises coming from his mouth on your neck downright embarrassing. he’s sucking hard and wantonly, hands now sliding the shaw from your shoulders slowly. his actions response enough to your words.

with your shaw now off and thrown to the side, atsumu eases you on to your back, moving to the opposite side of your neck to leave the same treatment as the one prior. your legs move to fit his thick frame between them and the stretch is delicious. his body is so big and firm, years of volleyball having given him a meaty physique. you eat him up, with your eyes and mouth.

“yer so hot, baby,” atsumu pants into your neck and begins a slow grind. his hands remove your bralette in seconds and fling it over his shoulder, big hands cupping and groping your breasts in a haughty manner. index fingers flicking your nipples to feel them harden, smirking into your skin and goes down slowly, mouth hot and leaving dark marks along your skin. he’s blatantly claiming you, but God is it hot.

you moan sharply when atsumu takes a nipple into his mouth. his tongue is hot and circling the bud with feverish intent, teeth coming to join the party as he tugs lightly. with your back arching, his right hand comes to give your other nipple company, pinching and rolling it between his index and thumb—just how you like.

“o-oh! ‘tsumu, please,” you plead for more—something more, anything more. his teasing is enough to have you soaking the new set, but not enough to feel that sense of release. his hardened cock forms a prominent tent in his pants as it rubs between the outline of your folds, jeans catching your swollen clit and you jump at the feeling. “please! more!”

atsumu is about ready to go crazy when you start to buck against him, but he’s having too much fun decorating the span of your breasts with mark after mark. you’re his canvas, bare but with faded paint littering your form. now, atsumu gets to create a new masterpiece.

“but baby, ya get so cute when i play with ya like this,” he emphasizes his words with a particularly harsh ground into your clothed cunt, hips hiccuping at the friction his jeans add. there’s a sloppy kiss to your navel and a roll of your nipple between his fingers, tongue hot against your skin as it moves up the valley of your breasts and to your cheek. “just want to tease ya.”

you’re huffing in a flustered manner at his words, hands moving from their fisted position along your comforter to fisting at atsumu’s shirt, “‘tsumu, baby, please, please. i’ve been waiting all day…!”

your whine is enough to have atsumu lean in and slot his mouth against yours. it’s hot and lewd and fuck, his tongue slides against yours like you taste of honey and vanilla. his tongue runs along your teeth and everything, overpowering you with his lust. but, it’s when he starts to suck your tongue that has you wetting his pants through your panties.

atsumu is intent in his actions and sucks like he sucks on a piece of candy, hands all over you and leaving no room for air. yours find purchase on his shoulders, kneading and pressing against them to find a sort of reassurance. being with atsumu felt so surreal. you felt like a cloud and if you were to let go, you’d be swept away by the wind. and, atsumu was like a mountain, strong and tall, meeting you in the sky to allow you to wrap around him.

by the time he pulls away, you’re both out of breath and continuously losing rhythm in your hips. even through the clothing blocking you from sweet release, atsumu brings his hell to your heaven. but, you wanted more.

“‘s’not enough, ‘tsumu,” you pant out in a whiney heap, and atsumu kisses at your cheeks softly but never ceases his erratic movement. “f-fuck me already.”

“‘m gonna do that ‘n much more, baby,” he speaks into your cheek, moving away to only allow you to remove his shirt before he’s back on you. now skin to skin, atsumu moans at your breasts flushed against his chest. they’re so soft, the best pillow he’s ever had. “‘m gonna ruin ya.”

his hands work at removing his pants and boxers, cock springing free with a slap to his abdomen. you shamelessly stare, mouth falling open in subconscious awe. you’ve seen it many, many times, yet with each one, he got more pretty. you have the mind to mumble so pretty, but bite your lip and round your fingers around the tip instead.

“shit, want my cock, baby?” atsumu’s index and middle finger work tight circles on your clothed clit, falling into a rhythm with your hand as it twists and cups at his cock’s tip. you nod lamely and lose all thought, focusing on the sight of atsumu’s abs flexing with each jerk of your hand. “use yer words.”

your lip wobbles when atsumu dips his hand into your panties and slides them down, your hand losing its motion when a thick finger comes to get slicked between your folds and glide down to your entrance, “yes—ahh,” your tongue is heavy in your mouth when two fingers enter you, curling and slotting in and out with precise knowledge of how to make you feel good.

“yes…?” what a bastard atsumu was, teeth on display with his wicked grin as he picks up his movements. his hand comes to rest on your clit, the heel of his palm grinding into you as his fingers keep their quickening pace. they curl just when you go to speak and you’re left to squeal and jerk your back from the bed.

“yes! w-want your cock, ‘tsumu! f-fuck me, please,” your begging is so pretty that atsumu pities you, fingers quick to remove themselves from your cunt and guide the head of his cock to your entrance. he lets a thick glob of spit drop down to meet your pussy, and you flinch at the cool feeling.

“i’ll give ya whatever ya want, baby,” atsumu presses into you and bottoms out quickly, too eager to nestle his cock into the warmth of your pussy. he loves how you eat him up, sucking him in with each gasp you let out. “f-fuck, yer so warm baby. i love ya.”

nodding is the response you give when he moves, hips leaving and meeting yours in a slow dance. he has a hand at your breast and the other by your head, coming down to suck your tongue once again before setting a slow, steady pace. he’s going to take his time with you, savor the moment, and replay it over and over again.

the moment is so intimate. atsumu eats your words as he does your tongue, your hands digging at his back to hold yourself down, while your legs feel like jelly along the globes of his ass once you wrap them around him. there’s hardly any room between the two of you; your chests press together as do your pelvises, your pussy molding around his dick to fit like a glove. in this moment, you truly felt like there was no such thing as air, and only atsumu.

“i-i love you, i love you,” you cry into atsumu’s mouth, tears formed at the crease of your eyes with his precise thrusts. his cock twitches at your words as if speaking it’s own response; i love you too, me too. atsumu is nodding to your words and mouthing such, too. both his hands come to circle your form and hug you into his own, breaths mingled.

“me too, me too, i love ya baby.” your hips are bruising together at this point, not wishing to move an inch apart yet keeping the flow of pleasure strong and overwhelming. his cock rubs your gummy insides just right, and your tongue is heavy in your mouth as you let it open in a silent prayer. you’re so close, in body and release, that you hardly register atsumu babbling how close he was.

“‘m gonna cum, ‘tsumu! p-please!” with watery eyes, you blink them open to watch atsumu’s face twist in pleasure. you’re sure your own mirrors such expressions, and you feel your heart swell knowing you’re the one doing that to him. “cumming, cumming…!”

atsumu whines as you clench around him, creating a ricochet effect as he topples over the edge, too. his cum is hot and burning, mixing with yours to spill around his cock. you’re seeing stars by the time his thrusts come to a stop, twitching at the overstimulation and gasping when atsumu doesn’t dare remove himself.

“i love ya so much,” atsumu’s words slur with a drowsiness to them, as do your own when you mumble a reply.

but, you’re sure he heard you by the way he smiles into your hair and eases the two of you into slumber.

#ੈ✩‧₊˚ ── nine #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x female reader #x reader #smut #atsumu smut #haikyu smut #miya atsumu smut #haikyu x reader #haikyu imagines #hq #oneshot #imagenes

[kazemi-archive]

Reality Check pt.1

Pairing: Miya Atsumu x Reader WC: ~0.7k     Genre: Angst Summary: not speaking to atsumu begins to wear on not only you, but osamu too. and your usually comforting friend has to break a hard truth to you. CW: mentions of crying/breakdown. based on how i have my breakdows lbr lol.

Prev Part —  Masterlist — Next Part

Osamu sat on the edge of your bed and sighed. There was a crease in his brow as he took you in, and he looked… disappointed. It brought even more feelings of despair up in you. Osamu had never given you that look before.

The feeling curled inside of your stomach, hollowing it out and carving its way up to your chest. It was bad enough not talking to Atsumu. But now Osamu was staring at you with a look you’d seen plenty of times, but never directed at you.

He was always quick to comfort you. Osamu had always been there for you when you needed it, wrapped your body up in a hug and listening to what was wrong. You’d hoped for that when he’d come into your room. It wasn’t what you’d gotten this time.

The noticeable click that came from the lock on your door turning had let you know he was there. The key you’d given him letting him enter without you having to move to let him in. His eyes scanned your room before finding you curled into the empty space under your desk, your chair pushed to the side. The tell tale sign that you were having a hard time. Fitting yourself into the smallest space possible.

Usually Osamu would sit himself down next to you, intent to calm you down and pull you out of your space. Instead, he’d sat himself on the edge of your bed, across from you, looking down at your form hidden in the shadow of your desk.

“Wha’s wrong?” His voice was still kind as it floated into your ears.

Your sniffles filled the silence as you brushed at your wet cheeks, preparing to speak. “I miss him, Miysam.” Osamu sighed at the shakiness in your voice, at the way your body quivered under the stress of your current predicament. The time spent without one of your best friends.

Usually he would take his cue then, to provide you with some comforting words. Provide you with something to make you happier, to calm you, to make you know it was going to work itself out. He didn’t then. “I know.”  That was what he had to offer. His acknowledgement. And then one more piece of his knowledge. “There’s really no one t’blame but yerself here, is there?”

It wasn’t what you wanted to hear. Not at all. In fact, it only seemed to slice the hurt deeper, to force the pain into a harsher wound. The tears streamed a little faster down your cheeks. “Miysam?” Your voice seemed smaller and Osamu nearly backtracked his line of conversation to spare your feelings more.

“Y/n/n.” He sighed out your nickname as he rubbed at his temple. “This’s gone on long ‘nough.” He tried to be gentle as he said the harsh words. “Y’know I love ya. I know yer hurtin’. But ya can’t keep goin’ on like this. Ya need t’tell ‘im the truth. He may be datin’ that girl, but ya created this mess now on yer own.” He shook his head again, tipping it back after to look at the ceiling. “Neither of us are talkin’ t’him now. S’hard on all of us m’sure.” He sat quietly then, the uneasiness of the silence settled over both of you, only broken by the occasional sniffle on your part. “I ain’t doin’ it n’more. I won’t tell ‘im, but y’needa talk t’him ‘gain.” He sat there on your bed for a moment longer before sighing again and standing. He brushed his palms against his thighs as he did so, turning towards your door, leaving as quickly as he’d come.

The emptiness of your room seemed to hurt more now than it had before Osamu had gotten there. And ache that Osamu had never left you to deal with on your own before. Everything was falling apart. Your cheeks burned from how you tried to rub the wetness away, but each time you brushed, there was more. Your soft sobs echoed in your small space and you tried to curl further into yourself.

Osamu and Atsumu were always your home. They held you up and sheltered you for nearly as long as you could remember. They kept you safe. Made you feel welcome. Made you feel like you could do anything, invincible.

Atsumu and Osamu were your home, one you were tearing apart.

TAGLIST : @the-last-shiv @iluv-ace

#𓇻 Liberosis

[satoruzlove]

dilf atsumu..😔

- tsum is about 37, reader is 21, mildly suggestive , rly fluffy, tsum has a little son, divorce, cuddles and touching

dilf atsumu who has the sweetest smile lines , from a smile he used to charm every lady in the neighborhood

dilf atsumu who’s a real natural with kids, always kneeling down to any little one he sees and greeting them with a ‘hey there, kiddo’ or, ‘nice to meet you, baby. i’m mr miya.’

dilf atsumu who wishes his ex wife all the best when she decides to split , and needs a hand with his kiddo. that’s where you, his adorable babysitter, come in

you’re a college student and he’s friends with someone who knows you- you were just looking for a little side hustle. atsumu and his baby boy were a perfect fit!!

dilf atsumu who welcomes you so warmly on the first day, hugging you even, large hands rubbing up your back and introducing you to his son; a carbon copy of himself.

dilf atsumu who’s heart swells when he sees how much the little one loves you, and sometimes joins your little play dates together.

dilf atsumu who asks you to stay the night when it’s storming, leaving you to the guest room. when you can’t sleep you toddle downstairs and curl up to a movie

the athlete spots you and joins you, how couldn’t he? his darling babysitter , who does so much for him and his baby, all alone? not on his keen, sharp watch.

he nearly sits down with you, not before grabbing a bottle of wine and two glasses. his lean thighs are spread wide as he pours for you first.

the night goes on and the movie is long forgotten between giggles and slurs of the tongue - your boss’s eyes blown by the amount of alcohol you’ve consumed. more than half the bottle was gone. poof. atsumu was having the time of his life with you.

his cheek propped on his fist, wine glass in the other hand, he giggled as you tried to narrate your first day on campus. the day you fell into the pond, were almost late to a very important class and nearly got set alight. the man let out a bark of laughter when you hicced helplessly.

big, calloused palms rest on your cheeks as he sets his now empty glass down. “ c’mon, lover,” he mumbles, “‘s late for you to be up, no? let me get you to bed, you sadly have class tomorrow,” atsumu said, hoisting you up. your weight felt comforting against him, but not enough for you to walk stably up the winding stairs of his gorgeous home.

he picks you up, your legs firmly around his little waist. you giggle, hands small wound on his neck. your nimble thumbs rubbing on the skin, you slur, “ s- hic- sumu, i can walk,” and it earns a shake of his head. “ you cant even talk, and i got you drunk. let me take care of you for once,alright?”

even as he climbs the stairs with you in hand he doesn’t falter. you’re lighter than a feather. as he reaches the guest room you feel sad, a pout on your lips when he tries to set you down. you resist, hands balling up in his cotton black tee and doe eyes gleaming up at him. he pauses. never has he taken the time , nor had it, to look into your eyes. soft, affectionate, maternal. all things he’s seen in you. the faux blond smoothes your hair and coos to you like he would his own child. “‘m gonna put you to sleep, ‘kay? that’s all. nothing else.” he says. you know he’s only trying to convince himself at this point as he climbs into the little bed with you, face so close to yours. your head rests on his chest, the same adorning eyes looking up at him. his own honey- glazed gaze is hooded with love, desire even.

everything stops for a moment. the way your lips are stained a deep red from the wine and are parted is like the ancient latin scrawled across decayed paper, tucked into a tomb and sacred. his only mantra and the thing that leads his every movement. your eyelashes flutter, hands propping up your weight- and you do everything for your boss. you kiss him softly first, a mesh of little pecks. atsumu feels blood rush to his head as his hands knead at the bone of your hip, thumbs stroking your thigh.

his skin burns, it’s hot to the touch. there’s a firey dance of nervousness under it, buzzing and bubbling that fuels his movement. his hands snake under your shirt , now squeezing your waist. he feels dizzy when you pull away, a little saliva connecting you. keeping you together. the sight makes him ache, yearn for you more.

a drunken giggle leaves you,“ thought you were putting me to sleep, mr miya?”

“maybe..” he trails off, his palms guiding you by the back of your head so your lips are centimetres away from his,

“ maybe another way, little one.”

#miya atsumu #atsumu miya #atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu fluff #atsumu miya fluff #msby x reader #dilf atsumu #haikyuu dilfs #atsumu headcanons #atsumu miya headcanons #haikyuu atsumu #atsumu scenarios #atsumu imagines #hq atsumu #little brain rot hehe

[paperultra]

THE FIVE NONSENSES

[ SOULMATE!AU ] Pairing: Miya Osamu x Fem!Reader x Miya Atsumu Summary: Like most people, you do not meet the Miya twins so much as they are thrust upon you. Unlike most people, you are thrust upon them as well. read on ao3 | read on quotev

CHAPTER ONE: SIGHT Word Count: 2,700 words Warnings: None

The week before school starts, it is unusually cold and gray, the wood chips on the playground are damp, and your shoelace is untied.

It’s been like that for a while now – dangling loose and free on both sides of your right shoe, twin tails flying up and down as you swing back and forth. It’s okay. It’s not like you need tied laces while you’re on the swings, anyhow.

Up. Down. Higher and higher and higher. Your auntie is arguing on the phone right now, standing behind the park bench with her back towards you. You swing forward, up and up until your heels perch on top of her head.

It’s a funny sight. You grin.

“Oi.”

You want to see if you can reach the top of the big tree across the park.

“Oi, you on the swing. We’re talkin’ to ya.”

Still swinging back and forth, you look to the side. Then you blink and wonder if your eyes are broken.

Two boys with the same face stare at you with sleepy eyes and flat mouths.

It’s so odd that you let your feet drag across the ground beneath you, staring back as you slow to a stop.

“Hi,” you say.

“It’s our turn on the swings,” says the boy on the right.

A slight frown twists your lips. You glance towards the empty swing on your other side.

“Can’t ya take turns on that one?”

“No,” says the boy on the left. “We’re racin’ to see who can go the highest.”

“I’m not done yet, though,” you say stubbornly.

“So?” says the boy on the right, his eyelids falling further in annoyance. “We ain’t got all day. Scram.”

His double nods seriously.

You look over at Auntie, who’s still on the phone.

Swallowing, you tighten your grip on the swing chains. They had been cold at first, but you’ve been holding them for so long that they’ve warmed up against your palms.

“No.”

The way they look at you makes a shiver go up your spine.

They stare for what feels like hours, chilly and silent, until the one on the right shrugs.

“Suit yerself.”

Then he reaches out, yanks the knit cap off your head, and takes off simultaneously with the other boy.

You gasp and scramble to get off the swing. “Hey! Give it back! Auntie, they took my hat!”

“Who –?” She sputters as you zip past her, exclaiming your name. “Young lady, what is –!”

They’re fast. And they run in tandem, most of the time, one pulling forward only for the other to catch up, leaving you further and further behind. Your cap flies back and forth between them as they pass it like a floppy, maroon-colored ball.

They glance back at you and you’re close enough to see them grin.

“Give it back!” you shriek.

“Why don’t ya make us, slowpoke?” one of them calls out.

It’s at that very moment that your shoe snags on its untied lace.

Your breath catches. You soar through the air and land flat on your face.

Twin laughter crackles through the dreary air.

When you glance up, you see them standing just a few meters away, a snickering pair of entertained little foxes.

Your cheeks burn. You don’t think you’ve ever been so mad and embarrassed in your entire life. And with the two of them, it seems to double until your eyes sting and steam whistles out of your ears.

Teeth clenched hard enough to break through steel, you sit up and wrench your untied shoe off. You leap to your feet and charge towards them as fast as you can.

“Give it back!”

They jump, eyes widening, and sprint off once more.

With one missing shoe and a sock that’s getting wetter by the second, you really don’t stand a chance. But whether it’s dumb luck or the rage rushing through your bloodstream, miraculously, lungs burning and muscles screaming, the gap between you and them begins to shrink.

The smirks on their faces seem to get smaller and smaller as you get closer, changing into grimaces of irritation. They run even faster. So do you.

“Give it back!” You’re repeating it like a mantra now, getting nearer and nearer with each breathless repetition. “Give it back give it back give it BACK –”

One of them falls a step behind the other. You seize the opportunity with your teeth and bite down.

The boy topples forward and skids across the wet grass as you tackle him, fists twisted up in the back of his thick grey sweater.

“Ow!”

It isn’t long before you’re straddling his back to keep him down, one arm on the back of his head to press his face into the ground while the other reaches out to grab the hat in his outstretched hand.

“Get offa me!” he grunts, though you can barely understand him and care even less.

“No!”

As you struggle to purchase a hold on your belonging, the other boy jogs back up to where his comrade had fallen. You stiffen and look up at him warily.

But instead of lifting a finger to help, you’re surprised when he breaks into laughter.

“Bahahaha! She totally smoked ya, Osamu!”

“Shut up, Atsumu!”

‘Atsumu’ bends down to snatch up your hat. You rush to stand up, ready for another round of chasing, but you’re surprised yet again when he simply tosses the hat between his hands and fixes you with eyes that seem less dull than before.

“Bet ya can’t catch us again,” he tells you while ‘Osamu’ gets to his feet.

“Yeah, I can,” you snarl, still panting for breath, but you rip your hat out of his hands just in case.

“Hey –”

“Forget it, Atsumu. My sweater,” Osamu grumbles. “Ma’s gonna kill me.”

You turn towards him, a tart word or two on your tongue about how he rightfully deserves a good thrashing – his brother, too. But your eyes catch on his sweater, and then on his hands that are hopelessly scrubbing at the dirt and grass stains, and what you see wrapped around his pinkie effectively steals the retort from your mouth.

“Ya got a red string,” you say, pointing at it.

Osamu raises an eyebrow at you, then lifts his hand to look. He wiggles his pinkie. His brow furrows and his lips pinch. He looks back at you, and the furrow in his brow deepens.

“Ya got one too,” he says, and now it’s his turn to point.

You look at your left pinkie. Indeed, wrapped around it is a red string, and when you trace its tail, you find that your string and Osamu’s are one and the same.

A lump forms in your throat.

Auntie finally catches up to the three of you.

“You little devils, running around like that! And where’s your shoe, young lady? I ought to …” Her gaze catches onto the red around your and Osamu’s pinkies, and her jaw slackens. Your lower lip trembles as she meets your eyes. “Oh. Oh, dear.”

—

When Atsumu puts it all together, he gets so mad at you that he cries.

He lifts up his sweater in a fit and shows you the mark on the side of his belly, the ink-black shadow of a fox’s head. Osamu shows you the same mark on the opposite side. When your parents all meet at the Miya residence that night, they try to sort it all out.

Soulmates, as you understand it at eight years old, are very special best friends. Most are the kind to get married and have kids, like your parents and the twins’ parents. A few are siblings, like Atsumu and Osamu. And some don’t share blood or get married and simply know each other better than anybody else in the world.

And as you sit in the living room sandwiched between your mom and dad, sweat dampening the back of your neck as the brothers stare half-lidded like they did at the park, you know what it means.

It means you are an intruder.

—

“Ma, I don’t wanna go.”

“You’re just nervous, honey,” she says, fixing the collar of your blouse. “Think about it. You already know two people there, don’t ya? And one of them’s yer soulmate.”

You look at yourself in the mirror. A pout forms on your lips. “But they’re mean to me.”

“They’ll come around if you do.” Wrinkling your nose, you keep your doubts to yourself as your mom stands up. “Time to go. You don’t want to be late.”

As she ushers you away, you take one last glance at your reflection.

For a split second, you swear you see Osamu instead. Then you blink and it’s just you again.

You didn’t know soulmates could do that.

Your mom watches from the house as you leave the front door and dutifully make your way to the corner of the street, where several kids are already waiting. The green backpacks make them look like turtles. You must look like a turtle too.

Just as you come up to the group, wondering if you should introduce yourself, one of the boys stands in front of you and traps you with a careful look. He says nothing. Just looks at you expectantly.

Awkwardly, you bow. “Good morning,” you say, and he frowns.

Oh, boy. Is there a certain way you’re supposed to say good morning here?

“I told ya, Kato-chan,” pipes up an older girl behind him, hands on her hips. “It’s not her.”

“Not who?” you ask.

The girl appraises you. Her glasses are big and round and take up most of her face, and the lenses gleam in the morning light. “Kato-chan’s soulmate,” she replies, speaking like someone well beyond her years. “He only wants one because his big brother met his yesterday.”

You grimace. Kato’s ears turn red. “No!” he protests.

“They’re supposed to tell him his zodiac sign,” the girl says. “It’s written on the bottom of his foot.” You nod, reaching up to hold the straps of your backpack, and her eyes flick down. They widen. “Oh. Have ya met yer soulmate yet?”

Shifting uncomfortably, you drop your hands. You wish she hadn’t asked. “Um … well –”

Two blurs shove past you. You can feel the entirety of their hands, each sturdy finger and thumb pushing back on each of your shoulders until you stumble.

“I win!”

“No, I win!”

“I touched the pole first, ya scrub!”

“With yer hands! I banged my shoe on it before that.”

“That doesn’t count –”

You join the others in crowding around the Miya twins, who are clinging to one of the poles sticking up from the sidewalk. They’re wearing matching jackets and matching pants and matching shoes, seeming to morph into a single organism as they quarrel and butt heads.

“Let go!”

“You let go first!”

Their shoes scuffle against the concrete. Both boys grab the other’s hair with one hand, and every bone in your body feels like it’s turned to lead when a thread catches blood-red underneath the sun.

Someone gasps. “Hey, do ya see that?”

You close your eyes.

A hand closes around your arm.

“Oh,” Glasses Girl says. Her voice rises loud enough to be heard by everyone. “Wow, Miya-kun, I didn’t know ya had two soulmates.”

And just like that, they stop.

Dread pools coldly in your stomach as she turns to you. The other kids swivel their heads to stare in what feels like slow-motion, but the brunt of the weight is from the twins, who let go of the pole to pin you down with their eyes.

Your throat dries. You wish you could melt into a puddle.

“Which one is it?” Glasses Girl asks you. “Atsumu-kun or Osamu-kun?”

You lick your lips. “I –”

“Neither of us,” says Atsumu. His tone is flat. “It was a mistake.”

You close your mouth.

“Really?” Kato asks, sounding worried. “There can be mistakes?”

“Well, duh. Me and Osamu are already soulmates. She’s just some scrub.”

Osamu says nothing.

“Oh.”

You say nothing, either.

The group breaks out into murmurs. Glasses Girl looks down at you. You meet her pitying gaze and then look away, uncomfortable, and shrug.

You don’t know why, but your chest starts to hurt. Just a little bit.

—

A few weeks go by. You make a few friends (one friend – Glasses Girl, whose real name is Kokomi). The Miya twins are still rude. The homework is hard.

Then your auntie heads back home to Miyagi to take care of a family emergency, and your parents go on their monthly weekend business trip. And you …

Well, worse things could’ve happened. Getting struck by lightning, for one.

“How come yer parents left ya all by yerself? They don’t like ya or somethin’?”

“No,” you snap at Atsumu. You’ve tucked yourself away in the corner of the guestroom, but even then, it provides no escape from the twins. Which makes sense, since this is their house. “They’re working.”

“What do they do?”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t.” He looks down at you, eyebrows low above his eyes. “Just wonderin’ why they saddled us with ya.”

“You know why,” you mumble. Looking down at your scratch art book, you scrape your stylus along the black page to reveal a glittery purple line. Your butterfly looks more like a moth.

Because you’re new to the area, and you don’t know anybody. Because your auntie had to leave early, and good nannies cost money and are hard to find. Because your parents met Osamu and Atsumu’s parents once.

Because …

“Atsumu, ya gotta wipe the counters.”

“I already did.”

“Well, ya did a cruddy job of it and Ma wants ya to do it again.”

Atsumu groans loudly, pushing off the wall and heading out of the room. “Geez …”

You hear the muffled sound of Miya-san telling him off in the kitchen, followed by the drawling complaints of Atsumu. You make eye contact with Osamu. He holds it, tucking his hands into his pockets. The red string snakes out of it and runs down the length of his sweatpants.

“Yer a lot nicer at school,” he finally comments, and you bristle.

“Because the people at school are nicer,” you retort.

“Did ya like supper?”

The abrupt change in subject pinches your eyebrows together.

“Huh?”

“You didn’t eat much,” he says, and though he doesn’t sound all too concerned, he continues to stare at you without blinking. “Do ya not like shogayaki?”

“I …” Perplexed, you let your legs slide out of their tucked-up position. “It’s fine.”

“What’s yer favorite food?”

“Onigiri,” you say without hesitation. His head tilts, and his eyes open just a millimeter wider. You do hesitate before asking, “What’s yer favorite food?”

“I dunno. Food,” he says automatically. You surprise yourself with the brief snort that escapes your nose. “What’s so funny, ya scrub?”

“Yer favorite food can’t be food.”

“Says who?” Osamu responds.

“I dunno. But that’s not how it works.”

“All of them are good.”

You guess you can’t argue with that.

The boy shifts, propping one shoulder up against the door frame. He looks down and to the side, his mouth twisting in the same direction, and you wait for whatever he’s about to say before he takes in a breath.

“We’re makin’ onigiri for lunch tomorrow.”

He lingers for a moment longer, glancing back at you, and you realize that this is Osamu’s way of extending an olive branch.

Warmth trickles up your neck and into your cheeks.

“Okay,” you say quietly.

He nods, pushing away from the door frame in a manner eerily similar to Atsumu before heading off towards their room. You listen to his footsteps shuffling sleepily down the hallway and curl up again, hugging your sketchbook to your chest.

Maybe this won’t be so bad, you think. Maybe Osamu will come around, just like your mom said, and everything will be fine, eventually.

Another pair of footsteps shuffle up to your room.

“Oi, freeloader. Answer my question.”

Everything will be fine, as long as Atsumu comes around too. But that, as you have already come to learn, will be a long, long time coming.

—

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#haikyuu #hq #miya atsumu x reader #miya osamu x reader #miya atsumu #miya osamu #miya atsumu x reader x miya osamu #haikyuu fanfiction #reader insert #fem!reader #soulmate au #oh boy this might spiral. hope someone enjoys this #the five nonsenses