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#hinata shouyo x reader

fairytsuk1 · 1 year

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shoyo was always by your side, literally.

in his opinion, it was the definition of love to stick by your partner both mentally and physically, so he had no qualms about a soothing hand tracing circles across your back or invading your personal space.

(though it's not really invading, you couldn't hide your happiness from him of all people.)

"mhm, shoyo," you whisper as your boyfriend sidles up close to you under steaming water, "thought you were gonna go to practice?"

you already know his aim, slippery hands ghosting under the curve of your breast and making moves downwards. you couldn't lie and say you weren't turned on; shoyo knew you loved surprises.

"i know! but then i started thinking... about you, and your body. thinking of you all soapy and slippery, so i changed my mind!"

his words make a shuddering breath puff out of your chest as he grazes across your tummy like he's seeing your naked body for the first time.

"oh," his lips are suckling the soft skin on the column of your neck which only makes you press your legs together as his hand launches its attack.

he's faster, almost condescending but loving as he shoves his hand between your legs and murmurs, "too slow, cutie."

his words juxtapose his actions, fingers making quick work of your clit in means of circles and pressing you so tight to his body that you can't even attempt to move away.

"shoyo! it's too much, gimme a sec," you plead, feeling the coil of your orgasm grow and grow with every wet slide of his rough fingertips.

"you look prettiest like this," you can feel his cock aching against the small of your back, "can't i just put one inside?"

panting, you cant your hips up with a mewl, "please?"

shoyo pecks your lips sweetly as three fingers push past resistance and crook up to make you see stars.

"i love being this close to you! i love seeing you squirm as i fuck my fingers up into you," it's so filthy, and he's practically transfixed on the way your greedy hole clenches on his fingers.

"have to stretch you out for me, you know? 'ts too big, don't wanna hurt you..."

you cry that you want it, feeling yourself about to tip over the edge when he roughly thumbs your clit.

"cream on me, baby."

your body reacts perfectly, hushed whispers of good girl, that's it, and kisses fill your mind as you freeze. the feeling overwhelming you as your boyfriend works you through it. even his strength keeps you upright.

"you're wonderful," and his hand reaches for his hardened cock, "you'll help me too, right?"

and you sink to your knees.

#hinata shoyo oneshot #hinata shouyou x reader #hinata shouyo x reader #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata shoyo smut #hinata shouyou smut #haikyuu!! smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu!! x reader

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miyasins · 2 years

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perv!hinata almost going feral after meeting airhead!you during a beach volleyball skirmish just as the sun is going down. you’re at the front row of the crowd in your little bikini set, top barely covering your delicious tits as it bounces when you cheer him on, shaking your fists in makeshift pom-poms.

he couldn’t help the stir of his cock in his shorts as he hears you shout his name in a saccharine tone, wondering if that’s how you’d sound in the bedroom.

hinata getting all fired up from all the cheering, especially from you, that him and his teammate manage to win the skirmish 2-0 in a breeze if it meant he get to talk to you sooner. and how he thanked the gods when you’re still in the same place after the game, seemingly waiting for him with stars in your eyes.

he tried to be respectful at first, gaze trying to stray away from your cleavage as you babbled to him how amazing he was. then you told him how hot and sexy he looked until he turned beet red from your forwardness.

him flushed even redder when you reached out for his arm, pulling it plush against your bikini clad breasts, asking him to teach you how to play beach volleyball. and he can’t say no to a perfect opportunity.

he’s more than happy to help, although some of his methods maybe questionable. he leads you both to a more secluded area of the beach, just behind a closed hut where the street lights barely shine, reasoning with you that it’s better if there’s no distractions around you.

after that he shows you the right form to receive and he watches in excitement as you try to mirror his stance, pressing your tits together with your arms out then hitting the ball, hinata holding back a groan when he watches them jiggle from the hit.

he acts nonchalant about it, clearing his throat with crossed arms and telling you that your posture is off before proceeding to stand behind you to ‘help you the proper way’ instead of showing you side by side. the tent in his shorts only tighten as his fingers dig into the fat of your hips and a squeak of surprise leaves your mouth.

“a-are you sure this is how you do it?” you innocently ask him, who only ignores the question in favour of telling you to bend your knees slightly, sneakily nestling his groin against your plush ass when you squat down.

both of you let out shuddered breaths at the contact, hinata’s grip on your waist tightening when you experimentally roll your ass back against his hardening cock, your mumbles under your breath about his impressive length only spurring him on to continue his demonstrations.

“hmm yeah.. when you receive the ball, you have to make sure you have a wide stance likeeee.. this” he’s spreading your legs with his hands on your inner thighs, cheekily giving them a squeeze.

he’s acting a bit more bolder after your little statement, thinking that maybe going a little farther won’t hurt. after all it seems that you’re all too willing to follow him despite his questionable teachings and that’s all that matters to him, subtly grinding into your bikini clad ass as all you do is blindly spread your legs as you’re told and raise your arms in a receive position.

“and when you hit the ball, you.. thrust. upwards.” he groans out lowly as he pushes his hips into yours roughly, making you move up to a standing position albeit shakily, a soft moan leaving your lips.

“like thissss.. yeah that’s a good girl..” hinata hisses into your ear, his large hands caressing your inner thighs as his fingers ‘accidentally’ get caught on the fabric of your bottoms, letting it gradually slip to the side with every caress and eventually exposing your dripping wet pussy all for him.

your dumb brain can barely process what’s happening, mind already gone hazy when he slid behind you earlier and pressed himself against you. you’re putty in his arms, high pitched whines leaving your luscious lips as he runs a thick finger along your soaking slit, teasingly dipping his finger inside your entrance before pulling away with a mischievous smirk.

“how about you show me how to receive a ball all by yourself huh? ya think you can do that for me?”

the bite of your bottom lip in contemplation before the obedient nod of your head is all it takes for him to shuffle his hard cock out from his shorts quietly, tip an angry red with precum oozing out. his hand is gripping the base of his girthy length as the other’s pushing your bottoms to the side.

“now, bend your kneeesss- fuuck.. just like that.. slowly.. slowly, baby” the slide of his cock into your slick cunt feels heavenly, a choked moan coming from you as your legs already begin to tremble from the thick stretch, but continuing to grind down deeper until he’s fully sheathed inside you.

hinata’s panting into the back of your neck, his hold on the strings of your bikini clenching, cock twitching in your little pussy as you abruptly thrust upward just like he instructed before deliciously sliding back down. you repeat the actions a few more times, each time slamming on his cock a little faster, knees almost buckling over if not for his tight clutch on your hips.

“am i- am doing it right?” you stutter out, your arm reaching behind you to grab a fistful of his auburn strands as he thrusts harshly in your cunt in response, gaining him obscene moans of his name before he’s babbling against your neck. “doing so good, baby.. such a perfect student f’me- niceee form- -so fucking wet and tight!”

his sanity is slipping, slowly going pussy drunk as you clench down on his dick, glazed eyes watching over your shoulder as you play with your hardened nipples through your bikini top.

he thinks how lewd you’d look if he painted your tits white with his load. maybe have you swallow his cum down your throat after he’s fucked your mouth like he’s doing right now with your slutty cunt, sucking his cock in greedily with every grind from behind.

but the thought of claiming you his by creaming load after load inside your sweet and slick pussy has him pushing you down on your knees in the sand. one of his hand covering your mouth shut as he pounds into you in a brutal pace, balls smacking against your sensitive clit, tears gathering in your eyes from the pleasure as your moans muffle in his palm.

he’s mean about it. not letting you catch a breath after squirting around his thick cock. he’s got an arm wrapped around your waist, preventing you from running away from him as he continues his rough pace, bullying his cock deeper inside you, tip prodding at your sweet spot and you’re sobbing in his hand from overstimulation.

your nails dig into the sides of his thighs, unable to grab a hold of anything as he’s pounding and pounding and pounding until he’s finally filling your pussy up to the brim. his palm on your mouth leaves to splay onto your stomach as his load keeps stuffing you full, hips jerking as he groans in your ear.

tells you how much of a good girl your are, presses gentle kisses on your shoulder as your head hangs low, legs trembling and breaths laboured before you’re falling onto your elbows in the sand.

and that would have been the end of the night if it weren’t for the twitching of your cute little pussy around his cock and his cum dripping down your legs that’s got his length hardening once more.

the jerks of his hips into yours once again quicken, regretfully fucking his cum back out. he’s whispering insincere apologies as he watches the delicious slide of his cock, eyes trained on the way your cunt sucks him in.

he’ll make it up to you soon, he promises. it’s not his fault you were so eager to give him what he wanted, letting him use you like a toy. he’s waiting for your protests for him to stop, but only your whimpers are heard. he merely grins. of course this is what you wanted as well, he thinks. don’t worry, he’ll stuff you back up with his cum. and then a few more times after that.

#miyasins — hq #BRAZIL HINATA ON MY MIND #THIS IS SO H WORD IM NASTY #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu headcanons #hq #haikyu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu smut #hinata shoyo x y/n #hinata shoyo drabble #hinata shouyo x reader #hinata shoyo #haikyuu shoyo #haikyuu oneshot

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mitsua · 2 years

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🍊┌ . ⚘ ᐝ • ⛭ ⬝ ⛱ ⭌ ⛹ ⭓ . ° ⸙ ࿉ ┐┌ . ⚘ ᐝ • ⛭ ⬝ ⛱ ⭌ ⛹ ⭓ . ° ⸙ ࿉ ┐🍊

Y/n: hey, Hinata, could you please help me-

Hinata: WITH WHAT? OF COURSE! IF IT'S NOT ENGLISH OR GRAMMAR, EVERYTHING'S OKAY!

Y/n: ...thanks for your support, but I actually need to carry this, over here *points at a very heavy box*

Hinata: YES! RIGHT NOW!

┌ . ⚘ ᐝ • ⛭ ⬝ ⛱ ⭌ ⛹ ⭓ . ° ⸙ ࿉ ┐

mini drabble —🌼 ~`▪︎ .

#msanitawrites #msanitawritings #anime #headcanons #x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyu x reader #hc #hinata shouyo x reader #hinata fluff #hinata shouyou #hq hinata #hinata shoyo x reader #hq fanfiction #hq fluff #chat

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ethereal-faeri · 2 years

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idiots, both of you | h. shouyo

notes ; well....cute <333 HASHASDHDAHS i missed writing for haikyuu

wc ; 295

warnings ; just fluff, really ASDHAHASD

summary ; there were matching shirts and matching pictures, but y/n and hinata? they have matching bruises

pairing ; hinata shouyou x gn! reader

want to subscribe to the newsletter? [join the taglist]

"what happened to you?" tsukishima snickered when he and yamaguchi went by your house to go to school together. you were sporting a nasty bruise on your forehead, wincing as you remembered the incident from last weekend.

"well," you trailed off, not really wanting to relive the story, but you figured it was probably best you'd be the one to tell it.

you were on a date with your boyfriend, hinata. it was going great, really, but then, the end of the date came and hinata walked you home, occasionally bouncing in excitement. you laughed with his stories and he cheered you on when you mentioned something you needed to do.

by the time you were at your house, you both couldn't leave (cute) but eventually, you had to go inside and hinata had to go home. he grinned, getting close and settling his hands on either sides of your face. your face warmed but looked down his lips, nonetheless.

as you were about to kiss, the angle must have been wrong, your foreheads bumped into each other. you both screamed, hinata was going in fast and went in harder than he was supposed to so it wasn't a surprise that the bump hurt so bad.

you both nursed your foreheads, already feeling the bumps forming, making you both laugh and wince at the same time. hinata gently kissed you on your lips, making sure to steer clear of both bumps, before waving his hand. he was still wincing as he said, "bye, y/n! see you on monday!"

"and that was that." you sighed, feeling the bump on your forehead. tsukishima was quick to laugh at you, as well as yamaguchi, but at least yamaguchi seemed sorry.

"idiots, both of you."

"shut up, tsukki."

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lowkeyremi · 6 months

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Double Trouble timeskip!hinata x reader

note: i wanted to expand on shoyo as a dad

CW: past pregnancy, children, twins, established relationship

"I don't wan' the blue one daddy, I wan' da one Mia has." Nia whines when her father tries to give her the blue tube of yogurt.

"I'm sorry baby, but sissy got the last red one." Shoyo explains to her softly. It doesn't soften the blow though, her face starts to scrunch up.

"Don't cry honey, the blue one is really good! Yummy yum!" Your little munchkin starts to sniffle, "Here go, sissy, you have da red one."

Mia is such a kind little girl, sharing with her twin. Shoyo thought having twins would be chaotic because of how the Miya twins are with one another, but so far it hasn't been that bad. They are only four though, it might get worse when they get a little older.

"Thank you sissy." Nia says with a smile as she trades yogurts with her sister.

"Well, I'm glad that worked out." The girls look up at their dad, big doe eyes, one pair filled to the brim with tears the other pair glowing.

Nia wipes away her tears with her chubby little hand. Hinata follows his little girls to the table. He's on daddy duty today while you're out on a three day business trip. Hinata was going to call the sitter but she's had the flu for the past couple of days, which in terms could affect the girls and maybe just make her feel worse.

As devoted as the man is to his work, he took off those three days because he has enough sick days to do so. Taking time off of work for the children is one of the many sacrifices he makes for deciding to have kids.

"I think mama will be kinda mad I didn't take you guys to daycare today." In his defense, he woke up late, and not just a few minutes kind of late. Two hours, kind of late. It's easier for him to call daycare and say his girls were sick rather than explain that he was unprepared, so that's what he did.

"Ms. Momoko gonna call mama, right?" Mia asks. The yogurt tube is almost empty. She's a fast eater just like her papa.

"Huh? What?!" Your poor husband doesn't even get time to think out an excuse, you're calling him right now.

"Crap." He picks up your call.

"Hey darling." His voice is suave. Best to soften the blow with his sexy voice. His girls giggle at his voice deepening.

"Hey Sho, are the girls alright? I knew something was going around at daycare and Nia seemed a little bit sniffly before I left." The worry in your voice calms Hinata. Luckily you haven't caught on.

"Yeah, they're in bed right now. Do we have any canned soup?" The girls look at him. They give him that face little kids give when you're lying.

"I think there should be some miso in the fridge, heat it up for them, okay?" He nods forgetting you can't actually see him.

"Of course, I'll make clear soup for them." Nia walks up to her father, "I wanna talk to mama!"

Hinata chuckles hesitantly, "What are you doing out of bed little girl?"

You coo softly at Nia when Hinata hands her the phone. He's trying to mouth to her to keep quiet about not being sick, but of course, with her only being four she doesn't get it.

"You feeling okay, baby?" A small fake cough escapes Nia's throat. Hinata hopes you don't hear how fake that was.

"My thoat hurt, but daddy takin care of us." She whines.

"Aww your throat? You're so cute. Mama hopes you feel better, is Mia close by or is she sleeping?" Nia hands the phone over to Mia, "Nia, you still there, honey?"

"Hi mama." Mia has a silky voice which causes you to once again be in awe of the the cute little girls that were once in your womb.

"Hi Mia, Mama misses you." She smiles brightly at your voice. Both of the girls are infatuated with you. When they first started walking they would not ever leave your side. Not even to use the bathroom.

"I miss you more. My thoat hurts too, but I be okay." You find it adorable how your girls comfort you.

"I hope you get better, baby girl. I love you very much. Can I talk to daddy?" She lets out a small hum. Your husband once again has the phone.

"Okay baby, gotta go. The girls need their soup." You quickly notice how he's in a rush to get off of the phone with you.

"I have to get back to work, call you later?"

"Of course, I love you." The sincerity of his voice always gets to you. Shoyo is always so understanding and quick to help. It's one of the many things you love about him.

"Love you too." He says his goodbyes and you say yours. Hinata never hangs up on you, so you always have to do it.

"That was a close one. Good acting girls." The ginger sticks out his hand for them to high five.

"My thoat rweally do hurt." They say at the same time.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #hinata x reader #shoyo hinata #hinata shoyo #hinata shouyou #shouyo hinata #hinata shoyo x reader #shoyo x reader #shouyo hinata x reader #shoyo hinata x reader #haikyuu shoyo #shoyo fluff #hinata fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu characters as dads #haikyuu dads #dad!haikyuu

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hinahaikyuu · 1 year

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you know what... I can fathom the idea that-

You’re Haikyuu Bias/Bias’/Favorites/Lovers would NOT love and accept you for any reason.

You got freckles? That’s cute as fuck. You got tattoos? That’s a bad ass story on your skin. You got scars? Still bad ass stories on your skin. A little overweight? More to love. A lot overweight? EVERYTHING to love! I seriously can not think of any boy that would do you do dirty like that. If you have a good heart, and are a good human they really could care less about the way you look, or what insecurities are on your skin or body. I hope you don’t psyche yourself out darling with that, because they would LOVE IT ALL.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

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dyeher · 3 months

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Includes| Iwaizumi Hajime x Fem! Reader x Sakusa Kiyoomi

Warnings| Exhibitionism, D/S Undertones, Overstimulation, Anal Sex.

Notes| @audrinui ❤️

sakusa finds you on your knees in the last shower stall, all the way at the end of the private showers. he’s disgusted. you’ve been stripped bare, a cloth- one he recognizes as his own- is stuffed into your mouth and muffles your sobs effectively. sakusa wonders briefly what the fuck is wrong with hajime. sure, they’d made a mistake but, this kind of punishment was a stretch. when did he even get the time to drag you in here? was it after the first set? why didn’t sakusa noticed that you’d left your seat?

it doesn’t actually matter now because, hajime has left instructions. five orgasms for you and two for sakusa, at least that’s what you inform him. he doesn’t want to know what happens if they don’t meet these requirements, so he nods his understanding and steps into the stall to close the glass door. sakusa watches you shift around to move your legs, so you were sitting on your ass and then he watches them fall open. sakusa scowls openly when he assesses that hajime has also left him presents.

you’re plugged up. both holes sport plugs, none of them are sakusa’s and the scowl deepens when you shift around and cum leaks out around the one in your pussy. does hajime really expect him to fuck you while you’re like this? you were filthy, sakusa didn’t even know how long you’d been like this. there’s the clearing of a throat outside and sakusa feels the hair on his arms and back raise. the devil himself.

“you have fifteen minutes before the rest of the team comes in here,” hajime says. “unless you want them to hear you two fucking, in which case, I have no objections.” sakusa doesn’t think about his actions after that, it was best he didn’t. he turns the shower on to drown out most sounds and drags you to your feet.

you cum the first time, against his fingers. he doesn’t remove the plugs just rubs gentle circles into your clit, whispers how badly he needs you to cum until you do, and the force dislodges the plug in your pussy and sakusa grimaces at the sight of cum running down your inner thighs. he turns you around, so your back is pressed against his damp chest. grinds into your ass and when you plead, beg: “please, please, fuck me, I’m a good girl, I’m a go-” he wraps long arms around you, to keep you upright as he fucks into you.

sakusa likes to tell himself that he’s disgusted by the way hajime’s cum acts as lube for him but, he’s not. some sick part of him loves it. loves that hajime has filled you up with his cum with sakusa in mind. an, I love you of sorts, using their pretty baby as the messenger.

sakusa gets you to orgasm number two before the first voices filter into the room. you’re on your knees again, his cock deep in your throat, too busy chasing his orgasm to even notice that hajime has joined you.

hajime thinks this is the worst form of punishment he’s ever dished out. yet, not an ounce of guilt lives in him. he watches with rapt attention as sakusa throws his head back and cums with a shout that hajime knows the others have heard.

“eh?” he hears atsumu first. “ye hear that shouyo-kun?” hajime frowns when hinata says he doesn’t. sakusa comes down from his high and hajime is impressed with how quickly his face can switch from pleasured to disgusted.

you turn to hajime too and hajime melts a little at the spit coated state of your lips, chin and neck, pretty, he thinks. he notes the plug in your ass is till intact and narrows his eyes at sakusa. “so, you want them to hear?”

sakusa doesn’t respond, elects to pretend that hajime isn’t there at all as he pulls you up to your feet once more. he turns you around and bends you toward hajime roughly. hajime catches you of course and kisses you gently while sakusa pulls the plug out of your ass. he chuckles against your lips when he hears the tch he’d come to love escape sakusa.

“you played so well bokuto-san!” shouyo’s overzealous voice comes closer and hajime watches in amusement as sakusa tenses. “your spikes were all blam! and wham!”

hajime kisses you again to muffle his laughter. you moan loudly when the plug slips free with a squelch and both men freeze because everyone outside goes quiet. hajime and sakusa lock eyes and sakusa gulps.

“eh? omi-kun?” atsumu calls out.

“ignore him,” hajime mouths at sakusa and sakusa listens, he grabs your waist to anchor himself as the head of his cock disappears into your ass.

“kiyoomi!” you wail and hajime’s palms twitch with the need to cover your mouth, but something about the way sakusa’s grip tightens on your waist as footsteps pad closer forces him to stay still. hajime swallows the wave of arousal that threatens to drown him when he realizes sakusa might…like this. like being caught or even seen.

“omi…omi-san has someone with him,” hinata tries to whisper and hajime grins when there’s a collective gasp. sakusa’s pace speeds up and hajime’s dick throbs. he rearranges you so that your hands press against the glass of the door behind him and the gasp repeats itself. hajime moves around to stand next to sakusa. he drags a palm down your spine, circles a finger around your puckered hole where it’s stretched to accommodate his girth.

kiyoomi’s hips stutter and you yelp stumbling further into the door until the side of your face is pressed into the glass. you’re too overstimulated to care about the fact that you’ve just exposed yourself to everyone outside.

“please get back to what you’re doing,” ushijima’s voice sounds shaky, even hajime can hear it but, he doesn’t care. his eyes are glued to the way sakusa’s cock is disappearing into you, displacing the cum he’d left there earlier.

“you like this?” hajime asks. he turns to stare into hooded eyes. he runs one rough palm up sakusa’s chest, taking his time to tweak at his nipples. saksua can’t stop the moan that escapes him and hajime chuckles when no sound comes from outside. he reaches his free hand back to your head and lifts you off the glass only to press you forward again. this time your entire chest is pressed against it, nipples dragging against the surface with every one of sakusa’s thrusts.

“please, please, please,” you’re babbling hajime hadn’t even realized before. “please, please, wanna cum ‘yoomi, haji wanna cum.” hajime wraps a hand around your body and with a gentle flick of his fingers against your clit you’re unravelling. you let out a scream into the bathroom and it’s accompanied by sakusa’s breathless panting of your name as he cums too. hajime holds you up with an arm, pulling you away from the glass door so that he can slide it open.

sakusa’s eyes are closed as he empties into your ass so, he can’t see the faces of his slack jawed teammates or hajime’s satisfied grin.

“omi-kun,” atsumu whispers. “yer so pretty when you cum.”

hajime hums his agreement and slides the door shut when sakusa’s eyes finally reopen. you’re limp in their arms and hajime watches sakusa come to terms with what just happened as he cleans you up. ushijima manages to herd everyone away from your stall but, not before muttering something about inappropriate things at the three of you.

“you liked it,” hajime says, matter-of-factly. “you really liked it.”

“I think he did,” you agree, as hajime massages sakusa’s shampoo into your hair.

sakusa goes to glare at him but, the sight of hajime under the spray of the water dries his mouth.

“we can finish this when we get home,” hajime continues and sakusa’s mouth opens to object, and only when hajime smacks you on the ass when you giggle at his reaction, does he realize he’s been baited.

“yes,” he acquiesces. “I did.”

#sakusa smut #iwaizumi smut #haikyuu smut #kiyoomi sakusa x reader #iwaizumi hajime x you #my work.#sakusa x you #iwaizumi x reader

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lavbloom · 14 days

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spilled ink

sakusa kiyoomi x reader

you've spent the past few months mentally preparing to get the tattoo that means so much to you, conquering your intense fear of needles, and thankfully it'll be your bubbly bestie shouyo giving you this tattoo . . . right?

18+ (seriously please), banter city, grumpy-but-blushing kiyoomi & disaster-sunshine reader, fluff and semi hurt/comfort, mentions of needles/fear of them, allusions to sex (smut in later chapters)

a/n: so that sakusa x reader post i made over a year ago . . . not 3.5k. more than that. definitely more. anyway, here is chapter one of three ish??? much love, lav 💜💜

You catch the slight tremor in your hand once it’s on the door handle and give it a firm shake, as though you can wiggle the nerves right out of your body. This is fine, you force yourself to think as you push open the shop door. Everything is going exactly as planned. You’re on time for the appointment, Alisa is going to pick you up afterwards to get takeout and fall asleep watching movies on her couch, and Shouyo is going to be as kind and supportive as ever.

You can do this.

Inside, Black Jackal Tattoo & Piercing is quieter than the busy street outside, and the bustle of the sidewalk is swept away as the door closes behind you. The only sound is the click of a keyboard, the squeak of your shoes on the tiled floor, and a distant shrill sound that comes and goes as you make your way to the desk.

A head of ginger hair shoots up from behind the desk, fluffy like a dandelion head, and you manage some small relief when Shouyo grins at you from where he’s abandoned whatever paperwork he was typing up on the shop’s computer.

“You’re here!” He comes rushing out from behind the desk to hug you - Shouyo Hinata has always been, for better or worse, a hugger - and you let him bounce around you for a moment while he does his eager-puppy routine. “Alisa said you were so nervous you almost puked last night, so I didn’t know if you’d show!”

“Of course I was gonna show,” you say with a wobbly laugh, fighting down the urge to actually puke all over Shouyo’s shoes. “You went through all the trouble of getting me a slot between your appointments, it’s the least I could do.”

“Yeah,” Shouyo says, bright smile suddenly dimming and hand scratching the back of his neck. “For sure.” There’s a long pause while he watches you watch him, and you can already feel that bile rising -

“I can’t, um, actually do your appointment.”

“What the hell, dude?!”

“Ow!” Shouyo grimaces, rubbing his shoulder, but you think he’s just being dramatic - you didn’t whack him that hard. “Rude! It wasn’t my idea, okay, but Atsumu called in sick -”

“Naturally.”

“- and I’m the only one whose slots will cover his afternoon appointment. It’s, like, this super big addition to some guy’s sleeve, and everyone else has appointments by four. It’s an emergency!”

You sigh through your nose, arms crossed tight over your chest as Shouyo pleads for you to understand. The tremble has returned to your hands, you notice, and you hope keeping them pressed under your arms hides the worst of it.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N, I really thought I could help -”

“Sho, it’s fine, I’ll just - I’ll come back another day.”

“I mean, you can still do it. I actually, um, wouldn’t recommend skipping the appointment now,” he adds, mouth twisting in thought, “Sakusa would be pissed. He kinda hates having people make last minute cancellations like that.”

The name has you grimacing, and Shouyo definitely catches the recognition in your eyes, if his wince is anything to go by. A mental image of dark, piercing eyes and a permanent scowl flash through your head, and you let out a quiet sigh.

Shouyo continues, “He’s, like, a total stickler for a schedule - not like Kita, but also not somebody you wanna piss off.”

“So . . . you’re saying I still have an appointment?”

“Yeah!”

“With a total stranger? Who’s an asshole?”

“Well, I mean . . . kind of?” Shouyo scrunches his face up, considering, and then nods again. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“And why would I want to not only not have my friend with me,” you say, making Shouyo whine another apology, “but switch to having some random asshole coworker of his stab tiny needles into me instead?”

“Y/N -”

“Because,” a low voice from the corner of the room says, “he isn’t some random asshole coworker of Hinata’s, but a competent and professional asshole coworker?”

The voice sends a chill down your spine that has nothing to do with the shop’s impressively strong air conditioning. You know you’re going to have to turn around now, but your feet seem to move in slow motion, heart hammering as your eyes meet a dark glare from across the room.

Sakusa, a.k.a. Shouyo’s competent and professional asshole coworker, is immediately too tall and too grouchy to be anything but intimidating. You can’t even gauge how tall he might be from across the room because you’re too busy trying not to stare directly into that deeply-etched frown, his brow furrowed so intently that you think the muscles might just freeze in that spot forever. He’s got his arms crossed, too, but you’re not sure what reason he has to be that guarded; after all, you’ll be the one being stabbed.

You’ve at least confirmed why the name Sakusa sounded so familiar: this is the same Sakusa you met when Shouyo was first brought on at Black Jackal, stiff and frowning back then, too. You remember the glare he sent you and Shouyo from above his black face mask, hovering by the door of his little studio room, itching to dart back inside and close the door behind him.

You also remember the delicate curl of the ivy on his shoulder, revealed by his sleeveless black shirt, trailing down the lightly freckled skin of his bicep. You remember the tilt of his head as he studied you up and down, the slight pinch of his brow as he crossed his arms, the feeling of his stare on the back of your head as you said hello to Atsumu and Bokuto. You remember the lingering coldness as he closed his studio door, like a chill wind sweeping through the hallway in his wake, something elemental about his presence.

Shit.

“I take it this is your friend,” Sakusa says, nodding in your direction as he turns back to Shouyo, like you’re not even in the room anymore - this just gets better and better. The idea of putting yourself in this guy’s hands for the next forty five minutes is making your insides twist around on themselves, and you can’t tell if it’s from anxiety or the prospect of being alone in his studio, as Alisa would probably say with a silly wink. “I thought you meant Yachi.”

“No, Yachi’s not - I mean, she wouldn’t really get a tattoo. This is Y/N.” Shouyo explains, although Sakusa’s face remains impassive. “I mean, I know this is last minute -”

“It’s fine.”

Clearly, it’s not. He’s glowering as though you’ve done him a personal slight by scheduling yourself on the day that Miya got sick; he’s got his hands shoved into the pockets of his black cargo pants now as he shifts off of the wall, but you’re sure they’re clenched.

“Seriously, Hinata,” Sakusa continues, lifting one shoulder in a deeply disgruntled shrug. “I don’t care. Just wish Miya had thought to get his fucking flu shot when I told him to, idiot.”

“Yeah,” Shouyo tries for a laugh, but he’s never been much of a liar. “Anyway, Y/N’s pretty nervous, so maybe they can just come back another day? I thought -”

“I looked at your design,” Sakusa interrupts, gaze locking with yours again. It’s intense, holding you in place while he speaks. “It’ll only take about thirty minutes, if that. Do you seriously need Hinata to do it? Because if you’re just going to cancel, I could’ve come in when I was supposed to.”

You press your lips together, trying to fish for a way to get out of this appointment - and trying to figure out if you even want to. Your stomach is still churning with nerves, that’s for sure, but the way Sakusa is watching you, pinning you in place with just his gaze as you scramble for an answer, is something you had only let yourself think about the night after you’d met him, assuming you’d hardly see Shouyo’s distant and rude coworker again.

“I . . .”

“Y/N, you can cancel.” Shouyo is also a bad whisperer - subtlety in general was never his strong suit. But he’s giving you a way out, probably having to deal with Sakusa after your hasty retreat, so you only feel a rush of gratitude as he offers you a smile. “It’s no big deal, no matter what this grinch has to say about it.” He hooks a thumb in his coworker’s direction, still giving you that knowing smile.

Sakusa sputters for a moment, the most human thing you’ve ever seen him do. “I’m not - Hinata, shut up.”

You can’t help it - you snort. There’s something about indignance on Sakusa’s face that is too funny not to get to you, and you only laugh more when he shoots you a sharp glare. He’s intimidating, sure, but if Shouyo can get under his skin, then he’s more than fallible.

You take a deep breath, sighing through your nose as you shrug. “It’s fine. I wouldn’t want to have wasted anyone’s time.”

Your gaze tilts to Sakusa, whose frown has finally smoothed into something resembling cordiality. “Is now okay to start? I wanna get this over with.”

Black Jackal is an odd maze of little hallways and dead ends, and you shuffle just behind Sakusa, trailing after him like a kid scared of getting lost in a mall.

“You know,” he says over his shoulder once you reach the back of the shop. “Tattoos are usually optional.”

“Yeah? And?”

“Well, you keep talking about this one like you don’t have a choice in the matter.”

The door of his studio is plain, save for a small sign that reads his name - Sakusa Kiyoomi, you read - and a little frowny face etched into the wood.

“Is that the kind of artistry I should be expecting?” You ask, reaching past him to tap on the carving, and Sakusa rolls his eyes.

“Fuckin’ Miya,” he mutters, and you nod in understanding.

“Ruffians,” you say, nodding sagely. “They’ll graffiti anything nowadays, nothing is safe.”

You think you see the ghost of a smile on his mouth as Sakusa lets you inside, following and closing the door behind both of you.

The inside isn’t nearly as plain as you’d suspected. The walls, a cool dove gray, are papered over with designs and photos, magazine spreads carefully tacked up alongside rough sketches and inked canvas, everything with its own place in the sprawling inspiration board that seems to be Sakusa’s studio. His supply cart is neat but plentiful, coloured ink shining under soft lights in a rainbow of options, and there’s a half finished takeout coffee and bagel on the small desk in the corner, clearly his effort at breakfast while he set up for the day.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Sakusa says from behind you, and you turn on your heel to face him. He’s got his arms crossed - again, oh my god - and even through his dark green pullover, his shoulders look ridiculously touchable. Meant to be grabbed, really, used as an anchor to pull yourself up and -

“Why are you acting like you’re being forced to get this tattoo?” His face scrunches slightly in displeasure. “You didn’t lose a bet or anything like that, right?”

“No!” You feel your face heat up, thinking about the insinuations, and remembering that he’s seen the design. You can’t help but let your gaze lower, dropping to rest on his shiny black docs. “It’s not like that at all. I just . . . I’ve been thinking about doing this for a long time, and Shoyou went through all the trouble to help me design it, but I . . .”

And here it comes, the lamest, most pathetic part of this whole ordeal. You swallow the nerves bundled in the back of your throat, clearing the way for your confession. It comes out quiet and sharp.

“I’m just really fucking scared of needles, alright? They freak me out, and this is a thousand of them going into me over a long period of time, and - and it’s freaky and fucked up, okay?”

You’re expecting Sakusa’s coldness, a scoff or an eye roll - hell, given his attitude so far, even a request not to waste his time. What you aren’t expecting is the undignified snort he lets out.

His mouth is pressed tight when your eyes dart back up to his face, like he’s holding in another little laugh, and his brows are raised, a little disbelieving.

“Don’t laugh at me, god!”

“I’m not.” Sakusa’s frown is morphing slowly into something resembling a smile, which rests in the apples of his cheeks more than his mouth, lifting his face until the gloom that hovered over him is evaporating. “It’s just that that’s so normal, and you’re so embarrassed . . . you really don’t have to be.” He snorts again, and you scowl. “No wonder you’re friends with Hinata, you’re just as fuckin’ dramatic.”

“Shut up,” you snap, but Sakusa’s halfway-smile is warming the chill in the studio too well for you to be annoyed. You find your shoulders relaxing a bit as he moves to his desk, taking a sip of his coffee while he rifles through some papers stacked neatly between binders. You take a seat on the rolling stool he nods to, waiting next to the desk for him to find what he needs; you try not to notice how he looms above you, but it’s difficult when you have a front-row seat to his broad hands shuffling around his papers.

“A lot of people get scared, especially once they actually get here and see the machine and everything,” he shrugs, handing you a few of the papers. Consent forms and the like, you realize as you scan the top one. Sakusa has a pen held out for you before you can even ask. “It’s not weird. I mean, you’re letting some random asshole stab tiny needles into you, right?”

You can’t help the cringe that passes over your face, and though he doesn’t laugh again, you can see the teasing glimmering in his eyes. “Sorry about . . . that.”

“It’s fine, I’ve been called worse.” He drums his fingertips on the desk, and the nervousness of the gesture warms you even further. The studio is thawing like a fresh spring day after a storm, and you find yourself breathing a bit deeper as you slowly fill out the paperwork. “Meian sometimes warns people ahead of time that I’m a bit blunt.”

“Blunt?” You echo him without meaning to, distracted by the process of the paperwork and easing ever so slightly under his teasing.

“Okay, he warns people that I’m a dick,” Sakusa says, and the rueful note in his voice catches your attention and draws you away from the form in your hand. “No filter, or whatever.”

“Oh, come on,” you say, tapping the pen on your thigh, squinting at him in your own turn of disbelief. “You’ve gotta know how scary you are when you walk around all mean and grouchy like that. You’re, like, seven foot fourteen and dressed like a bouncer at a goth rave, you can’t also be an asshole, you’re intimidating enough as it is!”

You really need to learn when to keep your mouth shut, you think, because Sakusa’s face drops, brow suddenly knitted tight again as he stares you down, and you’re reminded of how right you are about how intimidating he is when he glares like that.

“Do I really dress like I’m at a goth rave?”

“. . . what?”

“Do I,” he repeats slowly, “dress like I’m at a goth rave?”

And then you see it: the smallest twitch of his cheek, and your horror turns to annoyance in two seconds flat. “Maybe you do.”

“Hm. Seems a bit uncalled for.”

“Seems like you just proved my point exactly, actually,” you shoot back, holding out the paperwork for him to take. “And I didn’t say you were at a goth rave, I said you dress like a bouncer at one. You know, like you’re there to be all serious and break up fights and shit.”

“You’ve got a lot of experience with goth raves?” Sakusa asks as he files the paperwork away in a drawer and reaches across the desk to get a pump of hand sanitizer. The sterile smell permeates the small space, and you feel your insides twist, hands clutching the seat of the stool tight.

“No, I just -” you pause, searching for the words while trying not to throw up in Sakusa’s studio. He might be warming up now, but you doubt he’d love that. “I don’t know.” You made me nervous doesn’t feel like a great explanation, not with the next thirty minutes of being in his personal space about to begin.

He studies you for a long moment before jerking his chin, motioning for you to stand. “First, you’re going to sit there -” he points to the soft, leather chair that takes up so much space in the little studio, “and you’re also going to calm down for a minute, because I will cancel this appointment for you if you get sick in here.”

“Knew it,” you mumble, mostly to yourself, as you pull yourself up onto the table, the material soft and smooth beneath your bare thighs. Your legs swing off of it and you feel so exposed, though you haven’t changed your position much; you press your thighs together anyway, keeping your hands in your lap as though to cover up.

“Knew what?” Sakusa is rummaging around in his desk drawer again, and you move your gaze to the designs on the far wall. It’s a delicate series of ocean waves and marine life, and the broad expanse of coral reef you’re looking at is a bit better than looking at any of the equipment.

“Knew you’d hate puke,” you say lightly, trying for nonchalance and managing only to sound like you’re being strangled from the inside out. “You have the vibe.”

“Are there people who like it?”

“I mean, everyone’s got their own thing -”

“No, stop. No talking about that in here.”

You clamp your mouth shut, and don’t move a muscle until you feel something fuzzy on the back of your hand. When you look down, startled, a palm-sized ferret plush is sitting next to your hand on the table.

“What the fuck is that?”

Sakusa is glaring when you look back up at him, but there’s no real venom to it, so you only notice how the scowl makes his eyelashes stand out more, soft and shadowed beneath his pinched brow. Well, fuck.

“I’m not the best at - at being . . .”

“Nice?” You supply helpfully.

“. . . Comforting.” He purses his lips, and you try not to pay too much attention to them. “Bokuto got him for me to use when I started, so that he can make people feel better when I . . . don’t.”

“A ferret?” You ask, prying your fingers from the hem of your skirt to pick the critter up, holding him carefully in your lap.

“A weasel, actually,” Sakusa says, still scowling. “His name is Itachi.”

“Why does his tag say Omi-Omi, then?” You ask, pinching the fabric between your fingers and squinting at the messy handwriting.

“Because Atsumu fucking sucks.”

It surprises a laugh out of you, though a bit shaky, and Sakusa’s scowl eases back into that glimmering, knowing look, not quite a smile but on its way there. You press the weasel against your stomach, hoping to relax the knots it’s tied itself into, and look to Sakusa for direction.

“So, before we do anything - you’re absolutely sure you aren’t gonna throw up?”

“Promise.”

“Good,” and you try so hard not to notice how nice that sounds in Sakusa’s low, quiet voice. God, what is wrong with you? At this point you’re sure Alisa will see right through you when she comes to pick you up and finds you this . . . unsettled. You squish Itachi a bit tighter to ground yourself. “Then I’m going to ask you where you want this thing.” He holds up a piece of paper, Shoyou’s design splashed across it.

You tap your inner bicep, just above your elbow, and this time Sakusa manages a lopsided smile.

“Did you do your research for the least intense places to get one?”

Face burning, you give him an embarrassed nod, though you can’t tell if the problem is him catching you out so easily or the appearance of the very first smile you’ve ever seen Sakusa Kiyoomi wear.

“I like to be prepared,” you add with a huff, and he only seems to fight off another smile while tugging on a pair of black nitrile gloves.

“I’m sure you do.” And why the fuck does that line make your face even warmer? “Here - is it alright if I touch you?”

The gloves are smooth and impersonal as he guides your arm out, positioning it at a good clear angle to work on, and the disinfectant he sprays on the spot is cold enough to make you jump.

“Sorry,” he mutters, and you try to shrug it off without moving your arm too much. Your stomach is starting to feel wobbly again, and it gives a sudden lurch when Sakusa tugs his work trolley closer to him and pins Shoyou’s design to the side of it for reference, his fingertips starting to skim over the spread of inks available.

“You’re shaking, by the way,” he says, selecting a jet black ink that you can’t tell the difference from the others, rolling the glass between his fingers as he looks up at you from his seat. “You promised you wouldn’t throw up.”

“And I’m keeping my promise,” you grit out, nearly strangling Itachi in your iron grasp. “I’m not gonna throw up.”

“Even if I believed that - which I don’t know that I do,” you manage a scowl, though it’s aimed at the floor, “- I can’t exactly do my job on someone who’s shaking like a leaf.”

“I’m not,” you argue.

Sakusa slowly lifts your hand, and you both watch a shiver run through it. His hand is warm even through the glove, his grip soft on your inner wrist. Your face pinches in defeat and Sakusa just lets out a small sigh through his nose.

“Look, I don’t really do these kinds of appointments.”

“These kinds?” You echo, tilting your head in confusion, before you slowly nod. “Right, you’re part of the back of house escort service, I forgot. Would it be better if I undressed a little? Make you more comfortable?”

The baby pink flush this gives Sakusa is so stark of a change that it startles you, and you think the joke was worth your own burning embarrassment at making it. He clears his throat, brow furrowed, but you can clearly see the blush that warms his cheeks, and the uncertain twitch of his mouth, like his brain can’t decide whether to smile or frown.

“If you’re done interrupting me,” he says, “I meant nervous clients. Meian knows not to bother booking them with me, because it’s - well, it hasn’t gone that well in the past.”

And you already know this. Shouyo has explained his coworker’s early mishaps while starting at Black Jackal, including the delightful incident where someone did puke in Sakusa’s studio and he had to send them off to Bokuto while he cleaned it top to bottom. His reputation is exactly why Shouyo’s news sent you into a panic: his image in your mind was a looming, scowling asshole who barely spoke two words to you at every visit you’d ever paid your best friend at work (which was too many to count, thanks to Shouyo’s insistence on forgetting things at home.)

“I’ve heard,” is all you say, and Sakusa’s lips purse. He probably knows exactly what you’ve heard.

“I don’t know how to . . . make people calm down.” He releases your hand and it drops back down to the worn leather; the absence of his touch is cold, and you miss it immediately. “And I’m guessing me just telling you not to freak out hasn’t been helping?”

“How did you know?” You ask, voice flattened by the weight of your sarcasm. Sakusa manages another of his ghost smiles, but it fades from his eyes as he takes you in again. From the way he’s watching you, you must look as terrible as you feel right now.

“Look,” you start, steadying yourself with a small, uneven breath. “I want this tattoo, you don’t want to cancel this appointment, so it seems like the best thing is for us to just - just commit to the bit, you know? So just distract me and it’ll be fine.”

“Distract you?” This suggestion seems to strike Sakusa like an electric charge, jolting him into another startling blush, brow furrowed in frustration. “With what?”

You swallow a nervous laugh, eyeing his panic like a house cat eyes their pretend prey, and say, “You could take your shirt off or something,” because you’ve completely lost your mind and you want to draw that blush out of him as much as you can. It might be the only distraction you need.

Sakusa’s face goes bubblegum pink, from his forehead to his - remarkably sharp and pretty - jawline, and something about it makes his eyes even more piercing. He just stares at you as you cackle, your nerves making the laughter bubble up in your stomach like a shaken bottle of sparkling wine.

“I’m kidding, I swear,” you laugh, face warm and insides fizzing with a wild cocktail of anxiety and helpless endearment. “You can just, you know, talk at me or something. That’s usually how I get through shots and stuff.”

“Oh? This is a recurring issue?” Sakusa is still a little pink as he reaches for his supplies, but reaches out a gloved hand and gently turns your head to face the opposite wall when you look over. “Don’t look, idiot, just stare at the art or something.”

“Okay,” you nod, a bit breathless even when he finally releases your jaw. You train your gaze on the wave designs you noticed earlier, the detailed strokes a good visual distraction. “Yeah, I don’t like needles, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Sakusa echoes, voice flat. You’re trying to picture his expression, and when you chance a glance you see you nailed it: the scowl and single quirked eyebrow combo he’s used three different times on you today.

“Yeah, obviously. I know it’s not uncommon, but it’s still, like, embarrassing, you know?” Your fingers twist into Itachi the Weasel’s soft fur. “It’s like a little kid phobia.”

Sakusa just hums, barely audible, as he wipes a cold towelette across your inner arm, and you suppress a shiver.

“It’s not that embarrassing,” he says finally, though his words are a bit distant, out of focus, as he concentrates on whatever he’s rifling around with on his cart of supplies. They clink gently as he works, the only sound in the room aside from his quiet murmurs. “You’re doing pretty well. I appreciate that you still haven’t puked.”

“And I’m not going to,” you insist, pulling a quiet laugh from him.

“I would hope not.” His gloved hands are back on your arm, repositioning you slightly and then tracing something cool and soft along the skin. When you look down, he’s outlining the design; his movements are so delicate it’s as if he’s pushed all the concentration in his body to his hand. “Not when I’m being so nice, anyway. Now,” he reaches up with his free hand, tilts your chin up and guides your gaze back to the wall of art, “stop looking.”

You laugh, your stomach fluttering. “But what if you do it bad? I need to see the tracing!”

When Sakusa’s hand stills for a long moment and he goes quiet, you risk a look back down and see him glaring up at you, though his mouth is twisting away from a smile.

“I don’t know if you’ve heard,” he says quietly, leaning ever so slightly closer to you, coaxing you to lean forward and meet him, “but I’m really fucking good at what I do.”

And you don’t mean to say it, you really don’t, but the muttered, “Oh, I bet you are,” just slips out. Sakusa really walked into it, if you think about it.

And he responds with another deep pink blush, giving a slight cough as he leans back, eyes now glued to your arm as he reaches to continue the design. He nudges your chin up again with his knuckles before he gets back to work.

The studio is quiet after that, the pair of you letting the tension brew as Sakusa finishes the small tracing and starts sifting through his supplies again.

“Okay,” he breaks the silence, and there’s a note of concern that wasn’t in his voice before. “I’m going to get started now, but I think you should take a second to breathe. If you start hyperventilating,” he adds sternly, “I will not do this tattoo.”

“I won’t hyperventilate,” you assure him, sounding much more confident than your shaky lungs feel.

“You’ll be fine,” Sakusa concludes, and he seems to realize how much of a non-comfort this is, because he knocks his elbow against Itachi, where he’s pressed to your stomach. “Remember to squeeze the living shit out of him, alright? He won’t mind - I think.”

It’s only when that gets a smile out of you that Sakusa continues, and your head turns instinctively when he lifts something from the cart.

“Eyes on the wall,” he says without even looking up at you, fiddling with the tattoo gun in his hands. You obey, eyes shooting back to the wave designs, trying to trace the patterns instead of thinking about any impending stabbing. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” and it comes out as more exhale than speech, but you are managing to get your breathing under control.

“I’m going to turn it on now, but -”

The moment the mechanism buzzes to life, you flinch so hard that you almost drop Itachi, and Sakusa gives a little sigh through his nose.

“- I won’t use it yet, because I figured you’d do that.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” you mutter, struggling to put up a teasing glare so he knows you’re joking. Sakusa’s dark eyes are narrowed in thought when you look over at him, averting your eyes from the tattoo gun in his hands.

“Are you done shaking now?” His fingertips graze your inner wrist, glancing down to study your arm like he’s looking for more tremors. “Because I genuinely can’t do this if you’re moving around, you know.”

“I know,” you say, a bit breathless at the contact as Sakusa’s hand travels up to rest on the crook of your elbow, steadying your arm. He’s still not looking at you, but you think he can probably feel your eyes on him. “. . . It’s fine. I’ll be fine.”

“The design is small, so it won’t take too long.” He presses on the skin of your inner bicep, shoulders hunching as he moves to get started. “Just say something if you need to take a break.”

You let out a shaky laugh. “And you say you’re bad with nervous clients.”

A beat of silence, broken by Sakusa clearing his throat. “Just repeating the stuff Bokuto always says.”

You give a sharp gasp when the needle finally touches your skin, the sting sudden and swift, and Sakusa doesn’t look up from where he’s carefully inking your skin when he says, “Yeah, it’s not pleasant.”

“I mean, I figured, but what the hell!” You hiss, face scrunching in displeasure. You suppress a shudder that tries to run through your body as he lifts the needle and then returns it to your skin.

“Eyes on the wall, Y/N,” he says, and your gaze moves before you realize you’re following his direction. When had you looked back down at him? “You don’t wanna watch me stab you.”

“I said I was sorry about that,” you mutter, and Sakusa just exhales the ghost of a laugh as he continues.

It’s not unbearable, the pain small but constant, and you focus on the feeling of Sakusa’s hands on you to distract yourself - whether this is really a good plan has yet to be decided. At least it steadies you, his grip sure as he works, and you wonder for a split second how this would be going with someone like Shouyo. You’ve seen your best friend give tattoos before, but the feeling of his distractible, fluttering hands on your arm seems like miles away from the solid reassurance in Sakusa’s hands. There’s something about his concentration, the small pinch returning to his brow whenever you flicker your gaze to him, and the warmth of his broad hands that has your stomach fluttering while your pounding heart eases slightly.

Maybe this mishap wasn’t the worst possible outcome.

“Nearly halfway,” Sakusa murmurs, and you catch it in surprise just over the buzz of the machine.

“Already?” You’re so focused on the feeling of Sakusa holding you that you didn’t even notice ten minutes flick by.

“Yeah, I told you, a design like this won’t take long.” His hand slides down your arm a bit, holding your inner forearm in place, and his fingers curl around you almost reflexively. You resist the urge to look down as hard as you can, and find yourself outright glaring at the ocean scenes on the opposite wall. “You’re doing really well.”

And now you’re glaring and flushing, the praise going straight to your hammering heart while you fight the warmth in your face and the twist and turn of your insides as you study his work. The brushstrokes of that middle scene, a huge tidal wave in a myriad of blues and grays and teals, are so delicate that it’s hard for you to pick them apart from across the tiny studio, and you think you want to see Sakusa’s hands do something that delicate. It’s only fair, if you can’t look at him as he so carefully and gently marks your arm when you want to chance a glance so badly.

“Nearly there,” he says, unreadable as he lifts the needle from your skin, adjusting your arm’s position slightly. “Need a moment?”

“I -“ You’re not sure if the break is really what you want: your plan was to just get the whole thing over with as quickly as possible, and now your torment is drawing to an end. But your brain is going hazy with Sakusa’s hands on you, and you want to ease into that feeling for a little longer. “. . . Sure, just for a second.”

“How about ten?” You hear him laugh, the sound low and warm. “And you know you can look wherever you want now, right?”

Your gaze darts down to meet his, and you catch the tail end of his smile before it sinks below the surface again, just the remnants of it left glimmering in his eyes.

“You wanna look, or wait until I’m finished?”

And Sakusa huffs out a laugh because he sees that you’re already sneaking a peek at your half-finished tattoo, the skin around it irritated but the inked lines and curls so entrancing that you want to touch them. Sakusa holds your hand back, placing it over Itachi where you had sat him down next to you on the table.

“You like it?” The permanent intensity of his gaze makes the question feel like you’re being interrogated, but you just smile.

“Yeah.” You glance back at the design, studying the parts of it that still need to be filled in. “How much longer, do you think?”

“If we keep going right now, I can probably get you out of here by three,” and you swallow your disappointment. Twenty minutes did not give you a lot of time to crack open more of Sakusa’s shell.

“Alright.”

He gets back to work and the studio falls quiet, save for the steady buzz of the gun and the creak of the table each time you shift your legs around. Sakusa’s silence is so complete that you find your gaze wandering down to him, despite your promises to keep your eyes away from the procedure at hand, and you study the crinkle in his forehead as he focuses, the curl that strays between his eyes. He pauses to brush that curl back into place, and the movement is hypnotizing; you can’t stop watching how smooth his motions are, every one deliberate and careful. When he does so his eyes slide over to meet yours, and you sink so deep into his gaze that you can’t even try and pretend like you weren’t staring.

“Almost done,” he says; his thumb traces the edges of the design, and the smallest sting is left behind on the irritated skin, a mark of his touch. You just nod, your brain moving honey-slow as you watch him.

“You’re doing fine,” he remarks, head cast down as he finishes his work. “Not nervous anymore?”

“No, I am,” you reply, a bit breathless, “but I’m - you’re - it’s not that bad.” The words clatter their way out of you, awkward and uncertain in your mesmerized haze. His hair catches the studio lights and the curls remind you of the brushstrokes in his art, each rivulet of the tidal wave rendered with individual care, smooth and inviting. You clench Itachi a bit tighter, keeping your hand where it is.

Sakusa breathes something like a laugh and a sigh, lifting the needle from your skin for the last time. “Well, good, because you’re done. Told you it wouldn’t take too long.”

He putters about his equipment for a moment, putting things back in their places, and you study his movements as your hand frees Itachi (much to his relief, you’re sure) and reaches for the stinging patch of skin on your inner arm.

“Don’t touch it,” Sakusa warns, barely glancing at you from where he’s slathering on another round of hand sanitizer. “Unless you want it to get infected.”

“No, I’m okay, actually.” Your hand drops into your lap as you wait for him to return, legs swinging with your nerves as he finally meets your eyes.

“You didn’t puke.” Sakusa is giving you that barely-there smile again, and you swear you see the beginnings of a dimple on his right cheek. The urge to run your hands through his curls only grows with this observation, which you really wish it wouldn’t, because talking to him is only getting harder.

“I didn’t.”

“Thank you for that,” he says, pulling on a fresh pair of gloves and motioning for your arm. “Hold your arm out straight for me.”

Warmth creeps up your throat as you do as asked, and Sakusa’s hands are warmer this time when he uses a cotton round to spread a thick layer of ointment onto the design. It shimmers in the light, and you turn your arm slightly to examine his work.

“I’d ask if it looks okay, but it’s a little late for that.”

“Maybe you should’ve let me look, then,” you try to glare up at him as he crowds into your space a bit, gently laying plastic wrap over the area. You can feel the warmth of him this close, and catch a note of his clean, summery scent, like one of those sweet-scented dryer sheets. “So I could tell you before it’s too late.”

“You would’ve freaked out. Besides, it definitely looks okay. I told you, I’m pretty good at this.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you manage to roll your eyes, despite the flips your stomach is doing even as he backs away. He retreats to his desk to shuffle through the contents of a cramped drawer, and you watch the broad line of his shoulders stoop as he bends over the drawer. You feel the need to get ahold of yourself, but it’s a distant concern when your head is this floaty.

“Alright,” and when Sakusa turns back around, folded papers in hand and firm expression fixed on you, you let that concern fizz out entirely, “you’re finished. These are aftercare instructions.” He passes you the papers and waits for you to carefully tuck them into your purse. “Follow them - don’t skip steps or rush the healing process. Understand?”

“Got it,” you salute, warmth fluttering through you at his low tone. “I can follow instructions.”

Sakusa just nods, mouth flattened as you gently slide off the leather seat. “I’m sure you can, so I expect you to. I want to see that healed properly the next time you come to see Hinata.”

“So you’ll actually come say hi, instead of hiding back here?”

He quirks a brow and you squirm under his questioning gaze, embarrassment flooding you. Was that too obvious?

“. . . We’ll see. Depends on if you still want to see me after this.” Usually people don’t. The implication hangs between you both, and you yank it aside like you’re letting in fresh air.

“Well, maybe I do. Is that a problem? Gonna ruin your street cred?”

“I think you’re going to obliterate it, honestly.”

“You don’t sound opposed.” And that’s as much a question as it is a jibe; you stand prone in his little studio, waiting for Sakusa to stack up his many walls once more, back where they stood before you followed him into his sanctuary.

But he just stares back at you, the corner of his lips twitching as his gaze moves from your face to your new tattoo and back again. “Maybe I’m not.”

A knock at the door startles you out of the fuzzy, warm headspace you’ve sunk so deep into, and both of your heads whip to look at Shouyo, whose fluff of ginger hair is peering around the open door as he looks back at you both.

“Are you done already? My client’s just taking a break now, and I wanted to come check in . . .”

Taking a step away from Sakusa - when had you drifted so close to him? - you flash Shouyo a thumbs up and a wane smile. “Totally done! Completely finished!”

“Awesome!”

It’s quiet as you all head back to the front desk so you can pay, Shouyo seemingly oblivious to the tension brewing between every word you direct at him instead of Sakusa. You leave Black Jackal with a new tattoo and the feeling of Sakusa Kiyoomi’s eyes on your back as you step out the door, finding Alisa already waiting for you, leaning against the passenger door of her parked car.

“Hey! Lemme see, I bet it’s so cute . . . what’s wrong with you?” She squints at you, hands still on your arm to see the tattoo, and you shrug.

“Nothing, I’m all good.”

“So you didn’t freak out?” Alisa asks, pulling you along to the car. “No hyperventilating?”

“No,” you shake your head, sliding into the passenger seat. “I . . . I might go back, get another one. I’m not sure yet.”

“Wow.” Alisa gives you a once-over when she gets into the driver’s seat, turning on the ignition but not taking her eyes off of you. You don’t look over to see if she’s suspicious - you already know her too well for that. “It must’ve gone really well.”

“Yeah.” You nod slowly, fingers twisting in your lap. “It did.”

“So Hinata’s actually good at his job?”

“I, um - actually -” You fumble with your words, the last hour crashing through your brain at hyperspeed; there’s no turn of phrase that feels appropriate, not with the bright, too-hot feeling bubbling up inside of you, coaxing a wavering little smile out of you. “Shouyo couldn’t, um, actually he didn’t do it.”

“Oh?” Alisa pauses before pulling onto the road, her acrylics tapping thoughtfully on the steering wheel before she lets out an obnoxious, dramatic gasp. “Oh! Oh my god, wait, who?”

“Shut up,” you say instead of answering, burying your warm face in your hands.

“No way,” she argues, and you feel the car start moving, thank god. Soon you can be embarrassed in peace. “No way, you - it wasn’t Miya, was it? Please tell me it wasn’t.”

“No! No, it wasn’t - it actually was Miya’s fault that Shouyo couldn’t do it, so - I mean, um - it was . . . you know Sakusa?” His name trips off of your tongue, pretty and hushed, and the phantom feel of his hands on your skin makes you shiver.

When you finally look up at Alisa, she’s staring at you in mingled disbelief and delight. “No fucking way.”

“I’ll literally hop out of this moving car, right fucking now.”

“I didn’t say anything! I just - no way. No fucking way.”

“Yeah.” You murmur, head tipped back against the headrest, trying not to picture that almost-smile glimmering in his sharp gaze. “No way.”

#sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #kiyoomi sakusa #kiyoomi sakusa x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu

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ilylovelyz · 8 months

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⍣ ೋ time after time

˚ · . hinata x afab!reader

: ̗̀➛ heartbreak, loosing feelings, one-sided relationship/love, low self esteem/body issues, dubious ending, takes place after the timeskip and towards the end of the manga

࣪𓏲ּ i was listening to curl up & die by matt maltese + time after time by cyndi lauper when writing this

watchin' through windows you're wondering if i'm okay secrets stolen from deep inside the drum beats out of time.

8 years, 11 months, and 7 days.

it's been 8 years, 11 months and 7 days since you accepted the nervous love confession from a short ginger boy back in your second year of highschool.

8 years, 11 months and 7 days, have passed since then. you still can't wrap your head around it, around how much time has passed since then.

8 years, 11 months and 7 days, with this short ginger boy. only, he's not much of a short boy anymore, rather he's grown within the passed time, still not too tall, but he's surely earned his title of a man. spending his years doing hard work and exercise has rewarded him with a well-sculpted body, you can't say the same for you.

8 years, 11 months and 7 days, filled with exploration, experience, and love with this ginger boy. you had practically grown with him into adulthood; the two of you attached to the hip and spending every second together.

8 years, 11 months and 7 days, where the two of you shared many firsts with one another. first date, first boyfriend/girlfriend, first kiss, and first sexual experience. you always look back at those memories with a twinge of redness on your cheeks, cringing cheekily at the way the two of you would be so awkward.

8 years, 11 months and 7 days, of constant questions and slandering on the bond of your relationship with him. you always defended him, and he did so in return. you always brushed of those pesky little, "don't you two get sick of each other?" questions with a smile, watching from afar as you sat alone on a bench while he practiced yet again for volleyball.

8 years, 11 months and 7 days, full of little moments here and there where the two of you would talk about your future, making silly promises and declarations of love to each other. "i wanna be a pro-volleyball player and want you to be there while i am!"

yes, it's been 8 years, 11 months and 7 days. your precious hinata shouyo is on one of the best volleyball teams in brazil, and you are there for him while he practices once more. he dragged you out to the nearest beach at 5am, babbling on about how pretty the sunrise looks, and that he wants you to watch him practice.

8 years, 11 months and 7 days full of watching what seems to be the same scene over and over, where shouyo practices volleyball and looks over at you with a proud smile when he manages to do a good jump. of course, you praise him for his skills, you adore him for it, to be so passionate about his dream.

8 years, 11 months and 7 days of worshipping the ground he walked on. you had nothing but stars and hearts in your eyes for him, wanting nothing more than to attend all of his big events by his side. of course, he worshipped you just as much as you did for him, never failing to kiss the back of your hand for being so supportive of him.

and, it's been, 8 years, 11 months and 7 days. durning those long years, there was a time, when you had nobody but shouyo, there was a time, when you would kill all your friends for him. you're nothing but appreciative of him for being there for you during those times.

but — it's been 8 years, 11 months and 7 days.

your eyes are crinkled up into narrow crescents, but you're not smiling anymore when he makes a good jump. you're sitting alone once more, a little way away from the net, legs pressed up against your chest.

you can't help the fine line your lips make subconsciously, eyebrows slightly furrowed, arms wrapped around your knees defensively despite wearing shouyo's jacket. he said the sunrise would be pretty, but it seems a little too blue and gloom, dark clouds blocking the rising sun.

he looks over at you, yelling out your name after he does what you would usually consider an impressive move, expecting the best reward that is to him — your praise. but you don't.

but.. it's been 8 years, 11 months and 7 days since then, so why are you now feeling nothing, after all these years?

after 8 years, 11 months and 7 days, looking at the way he's looking at you with that warm look in his eyes, is now stinging. after 8 years, 11 months and 7 days, he's the only one for you.

"y/n?" he calls out. his volleyball long forgotten on the soft sand, standing cautiously in place, lips pouting at your silence. but you're not listening, too wrapped up at the fact that is inevitable.

the sand crunches under his bare feet when he's walking towards you, a ginger eyebrow lifting in concern. "are you alright? are you sleepy? cold?" he questions, leaning down and laying a warm hand against the side of your cheek.

8 years, 11 months and 7 days, and his touch is no longer sending goosebumps down your spine.

but he's the only one for you?

he blinks at you a couple of times when you've still yet to respond. "..let's go home, it's cold isn't it?" he mumbles softly, his hand taking yours, feeling a little relieved when you are finally responding to him, albeit you're still not talking and more or less just following him back home.

he talks to you on the way home, his arm wrapped snuggly around your shoulder as he asks you various questions on what you want to do for the upcoming 9th anniversary of your relationship with him.

8 years, and 11 months and 7 days — for the first time, you're not sure if you want to do anything with him for that day. but for the sake of his feelings, you nod along to his ideas after you lack any suggestions of your own. his body jumps up and down at the excitement, his arm never leaving your shoulder.

"wow! 9 years with you~," he happily says, leaning down to practically inhale the side of your cheek and kissing it lovingly.

after 8 years, 11 months and 7 days, you don't know if the two of you will make it to the 9th.

please like and repost with tags

#haikyu smut #haikyuu!! smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu angst #haikyu x reader #hinata shouyou #hinata shoyo haikyuu #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata fluff #hinata x reader #hinata shoyo #hinata shoyo angst

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lou-struck · 2 years

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Below is the Masterlist for my Summer of Smoke and S'mores Collab If you want to sign up send me an ask.

Haikyuu

➼Kotaro Bokuto~fluffy/nsfw~ @theehcenypot

➼ Shouyo Hinata~sfw~ @portfolio-of-dreams

➼Shinsuke Kita ~fluffy/nsfw~ @shinigamiplayroom

Tokyo Revengers

➼ Tetta Kisaki~ nsfw/DC~ @kazububs

BNHA

➼ Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugou, Shoto Todoroki x Reader ~sfw camping trip @izukiss

Obey Me!

➼ Brothers x reader sfw ~ @lou-struck

#smoke&smores🔥

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mitsua · 2 years

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🪼 : AND I FINALLY BRING HAIKYUU'S MEETING HEADCANONS ! SOOO, HERE YOU GO !

Warnings : bad grammar and spelling mistakes

Genre : fluff

Serie : 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐲𝐮𝐮!

Y / n 's . . . GN !

𝗛𝗶𝗻𝗮𝘁𝗮 𝗦𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘆𝗼

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝

Meeting out Karasuno.

Shaking your body to the music's rhythm, you find yourself dancing at the street, in a mini organized show.

Hinata was walking one street before the one you were in, the music stealing his attention.

So he stopped and went following were his listening guided him to.

When he saw those fluid movements of yours, he was completely hypnotized by them. You were so cool ! each move at the perfect timing at the song's beats.

Something got in him and when the audio started fading as the end of the song, he got closer so you could see him.

After applauses and cheers by a quite good amount of people, you saw an orange haired boy standing when almost everyone was gone while picking up the sound system you carried always with you the days you worked.

" U-Uhm, hi! I'm Hinata Shoyo, and I wanted to say you did so good dancing ! you looked like a professional in there !" he said with sparkles in his eyes, unacknowledging how you tensed up hearing him comment it so out of the blue. When you turned to see him, he was super close and it made you more flustered than you already were by his words.

" H-Huh, tha-thank you so much ! th-the name's Y/n L/n, glad-glad you liked the show Shoyo " you said smiling shyly at him, which made him smile even more.

" Beautiful !"

🪼 : thought I'd tell you who thought that ? HA ! GOT YA'

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tojivu · 2 years

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msby boys when you kiss them for the first time

a/n hi. drabble(-ish idk) becauseeee yeah!

warnings/tags FLUFFF WOW!! shocking, includes mbsy main 4, sha’s brain malfunctioning, gn!reader, sha being soft for msby

SAKUSA KIYOOMI stares at you, wide-eyed and shocked. he swore he was dead for a moment—his heart had skipped a few beats. you were just bidding him goodbye after another date, and he was dropping you off at your house. as you both approached the front door, you suddenly grabbed his wrist and gave him a quick peck on the lips. not really a kiss as most would call it—but still, anything you do to him makes his face flush and his heart stop.

“just go home already, it’s cold out here.” he rushes you after you pull away from his lips, trying oh-so-hard to hide the grin creeping up on his face.

MIYA ATSUMU pulls you back in for another kiss. he was secretly hoping for the past week that you’d kiss him first—he wasn’t sure if you were ready to be that close yet. and when you finally do, man is ecstatic. the tips of his ears turn a bright red, and as soon as you pull away, his hands are reaching for the sides of your neck, behind your ear. his lips are warm against yours—a very big contrast to the cold snow falling on top of your heads. not that you would complain, you didn’t really like the cold that much.

“you should’ve kissed me earlier,” he frowned as you waved him goodbye, a slight smile on your face.

BOKUTO KOUTAROU shortcircuits. he’s frozen, as if he was trapped in ice—and when you pull away, he’s in the same position as he was before you even kissed him. “kou?” you raised an eyebrow. maybe it was too cold for him that he froze, you thought that he put on too little scarves anyway. he realises what had just happened, and it’s times like this where he wished that he read that wikihow article on how to kiss your significant other—he thought that he would be a natural at it. but when it came to you, he’s frozen, you make him shortcircuit in the best way possible—he doesn’t know what to do when you’re so close to him.

“i’m sorry, i’m fine, i swear.” he’d smile at you, and you sigh in relief because you can tell he didn’t hate the kiss—the crimson colour on his cheeks tell you everything.

HINATA SHOUYO melts. he literally feels his knees go weak, threatening to make him fall any second. no words can describe how elated this man felt. perhaps he’s being too dramatic, but he felt like he was going to faint when your lips met his. he’d loved you for a long time, and you’d never gotten this close to him before. so when you do, he’s melting away at your touch. you’re lucky he didn’t pass out then and there, if not there’d be some serious issues at the hospital—and how you would’ve had to explain to them that your boyfriend fainted because you kissed him.

“i did not.” shouyo argued as you asked him why he almost fell when you pulled away, refusing to admit that he’s so weak in front of you. you knew that fact too well though, hinata was never good at hiding things.

I HATE THIS SO MUCH nothing comes up in my head when i try write fluffy stuff…. lmk your thoughts on this tho if yall like it ill try n do more — 051221

# recent — hq boys love language <3

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #sakusa x reader #sakusa fluff #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #bokuto x reader #bokuto fluff #bokuto koutaro #bokuto koutarou x reader #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu fluff #atsumu miya x reader #hinata shouyo #hinata x reader #hinata fluff #hinata shouyo x reader #haikyuu fluff

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lowkeyremi · 18 days

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HINATA SHOYO (full masterlist)

Drabbles:

Post Brazil drabble

Double Trouble

Fics (500+ words):

Series:

#haikyuu x reader #shoyo hinata x reader #hinata shoyo #shoyo hinata #haikyuu #hinata x reader #shouyo hinata x reader

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hornime · 3 years

Note

lewd event: hi, could i have dom!Hinata Shoyo with sub f!reader with the prompts double penetration and dumbification? Tysm 💚💕

USE YOUR WORDS | HINATA SHOUYOU X F!READER

part of my a whole lotta lewd event! [ details | masterlist | CLOSED ]

warnings: 18+, dom!hinata, f!reader, double penetration (so anal), use of a toy (dildo), dumbification, very little degradation

a/n: writing this almost ALMOST made me add in a daddy kink. hinata just has that power. i fought it but it was a close call.

“shh, baby, shh,” hinata coos, his rough palms tenderly spreading your ass cheeks, giving him a better view of his thick cock wedged in your tight, clenched hole, before letting them jiggle back into place. “it feels good, right?”

the pink dildo he’s nudging between the slick folds of your pussy catches on your clit and you whimper, desperately arching your back to guide it to your hole. hinata, as observant as he is, notices, and his hand comes up to grip your hip, fingers digging into your flesh and molding it with indents.

“what do you want, hm? use your words.” he leans over your back, pushing his cock further into your ass, his whispers blowing against your ear and cascading down the sensitive skin of your jaw. your grasp onto soft tufts of orange hair at his nape as his lips latch onto your neck, sucking and nipping at it with his teeth until you’re squirming away in soreness.

you make a pitiful, small noise as an answer, too overwhelmed by his short thrusts in and out of your ass and the intoxicating way his tongue laps up the salty sheen of sweat on your shoulders and back. your mouth uselessly tries to project the syllables of your desires, only to be interrupted by the high-pitched moans of euphoria that he’s pulling out of you.

“so dumb already?” you can hear the amused smile on his lips, practically see his cocked eyebrow and the way he’s licking his lips at your fucked-out body. “can’t answer?”

“i c-can, shouyou,” you babble, a line of drool trickling from the plump of your lip to your chin down to soak the sheets. “i w-want it inside.”

your breath escapes you as he pushes the dildo inside, your walls clenching greedily along the silicone. the feeling that envelops you—with a cock in your ass and a cock in your pussy—is indescribable. you don’t even think you could verbalize it if you tried. as the dildo gets sucked up more and more by your cunt, your eyes cross and tongue lolls out of your mouth. the sound coming out of you is a high-pitched keen that would have your cheeks heating in embarrassment, well, if you had the consciousness to feel shame.

hinata asks you something, but the blood rushing in your ears makes it impossible to hear. he taps your cheek before holding your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“aw, baby, you didn’t hear me. you feel good?”

your tongue feels like cotton in your mouth. as you try to form the words, he thrusts back into you and any notion of what you were going to say disappears. all you can do is hum and moan and cry, laying there like a toy for him to use as he pleases.

“i’ll take that as a yes,” he mutters between gritted teeth, a particularly tight clench of your ass making his voice crack. “god, you’re such a good little slut, lettin’ me use you like this.”

“y-your slut,” you whimper, before shoving your face back into the pillow as another harsh thrust has your mind reeling.

he cocks his head behind you, hips stilling and making you whine at the sudden lack of stimulation. “you can still talk?”

you nod, though it’s more of your head fighting gravity and then succumbing to it a couple times than a controlled action. you’ve long collapsed onto your chest, forearms giving way and knees shaking, but somehow, you still can find the occasional strength to speak.

hinata frowns before pounding in again, his balls slapping against your clit, making your entire body jerk forward.

“then i guess i haven’t done enough of a good job yet, have i?”

if you enjoyed, reblogs + comments are appreciated!