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#hq imagine
moonbeamwritings · 1 year
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“Rin,” you whine, perching your chin on his stomach, eyeing him despite the phone that blocks your view. He’s aimlessly scrolling, just like he always does before bed, and you’re keen on stopping him. Your stomach grumbles and you call his name again. “Rintarouu.”
Without looking, he plops a hand onto your head and tells you, “Sorry, it’s after business hours.”
“Rin,” you’re not above groveling as your voice dips into a whine again, “can we go get food?”
“It’s almost midnight.”
“So? That McDonald’s down the street is open. I already checked.”
Rintarou’s hand moves to start massaging your scalp, though he still refuses to look at you.
“And, when have you ever turned down late-night fries?”
His phone tilts to the right and his pretty face comes into view, faux annoyance crossing his features. “But I’m sleepy, and it’s cold out.”
Making a show of batting your lashes at him, you jut out your bottom lip. “Please, babe. It’ll be my treat. You don’t even have to order if you don’t want to.” You shuffle up his chest to invade more of his space. “I’ll do anything.”
“Anything, huh?” He quirks a brow, putting his phone aside to pull you towards his chest. “I like the sound of that.”
“Rin,” you redirect, “the food. That’s priority number one.”
His lithe fingers curl around the back of your neck, guiding you forward until your lips meet. He pulls away after a few, sweet seconds, but not before nipping at your bottom lip. “Alright, fine. We’ll go.”
He pinches the plush of your warming cheek and grins. “But only because you beg so pretty.”
Rolling your eyes and pushing against his chest, you move to stand, pulling on his hand to force him to make good on his promise.
When you reach the front door, clad in his EJP hoodie that’s a size or two too big, Rintarou tugs the hood up onto your head and pulls on the strings, making it scrunch around your face. He ties them before bundling you up in his coat next.
Affection creeps into the corners of Rintarou’s gray eyes as he inspects your form. “C’mon stinky, let’s go. My baby’s gotta eat.”
Five minutes later, you’re standing in the lobby of McDonald’s, cheeks rosy from the cold and Rintarou’s fingers entangled with yours as he earnestly inspects the menu. When you’re up, he tugs you along towards the counter, and speaks before you even have the chance to open your mouth, ordering your usual and then his, making a point to slip his card into the machine.
“Hey,” you hiss once the order is placed, squeezing his hand in yours. “I said I’d pay.”
He stoops a bit to press a kiss to the crown of your head, right atop your hood. “Don’t you worry yer pretty lil’ head about it, okay? I wanted to.”
“But-”
A click of his tongue stops you in your tracks as he slings his arm around your shoulders. “Nuh uh. No buts.”
You sigh at his insistence, but nevertheless you tell him, “Thank you, Rin.”
Pleased, he hums, “Mhm.”
The food comes out moments later, and with his arm still resting on your shoulders, he guides you home. And as a winter chill nips at the tip of your nose, you snuggle closer to Rintarou’s side, excited to share a late-night snack with him.
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teamatsumu · 6 months
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kinktober 2023 -> day 31
breeding kink - miya osamu x reader
word count: 1512
A/N: so this is it! thank you so much for everyone who stuck around for this kinktober event. 31 fics in 31 days, its the biggest project i have ever done. thank u for all the love and support ❤️
kinktober masterlist
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What is stopping you?
Your mind repeated the question in your head every day, and it felt like your brain was yelling at you in frustration and confusion, wanting to know why exactly you were tongue tied in this situation. It made no sense to wait anymore. The time was ideal.
Truly, there couldn't be a better time to bring it up. You were happy with your job, Osamu’s business was flourishing; he had just opened another Onigiri Miya in Tokyo. He had a good staff now, an organized system on how to manage it all. He didn’t have to be the only person worrying for the business anymore, since he had hired experienced managers. It allowed him enough breathing room to come home early, cook a nice, hearty dinner for you both that you enjoyed while sprawled on the couch in front of the TV. Money wasn’t a worry anymore.
So really, what was stopping you from bringing up the topic of kids?
You seemed to have become lost in the same thoughts again because you only came to when Osamu nudged you, making you blink and tear your eyes away from the TV screen. He was looking at you questioningly, and you could see a hint of worry behind his dark eyes.
“What’s on yer mind, doll?”
You shook your head and smiled, shrugging a bit. “It’s no big deal ‘Samu. Just a project at work.”
He hummed a little, shoving more noodles into his mouth and sparing you little glances as he did so. You knew he didn’t believe you. Your husband knew you too well to fall for such an obvious lie. But you couldn’t, for the life of you, figure out how to broach the topic that was itching in the back of your mind for the last few days.
What do I even say? Put a baby in me?
You swallowed down the little knot that formed in your throat at the thought. Fuck. Was this turning you on? You grit your teeth tight enough that it hurt your jaw, scolding the little voice in your head to not do anything stupid.
When has your brain and lack of filter ever listened to you, though?
The next night, when Osamu had you sprawled on his lap, your back against his front, two fingers buried knuckles deep inside you and having pulled an orgasm out of you already, you babbled out the thought that had been plaguing you for many, many days.
“‘Sa- Samu,” you whined, long and desperate, dragging out his name. “Need your cock. Need your cum. Please.”
Osamu groaned in reply, pulling out his drenched fingers from your core and laying you on the bed. You pulled your legs up on instinct, spreading them wide, knees brought up to your sides. Osamu’s responding moan was sinful.
“S-shit, baby,” he breathed, clumsy hands quickly discarding his shirt and sweatpants. “Ya want it that bad? So ready to take me?”
You nodded your head frantically, back arching when he finally sunk his big, throbbing cock into you. The slide was comfortable and easy, considering how long you had spent spread apart on his fingers. Osamu wasted no time in immediately picking up speed, knowing exactly what spots to hit that had you reduced to a weepy mess.
You fumbled around until you had grabbed Osamu’s hands, hooking both of them under your knees and applying pressure. Osamu stared at you in realization before he shifted a bit and used his weight to hold your legs apart. You wanted him to put you in a mating press.
“This what ya want, sweetheart?” His voice was so hoarse you felt like you could cum just at the sound of it. “Fuck, ya look so sexy. All spread out fer me.”
Osamu was big on dirty talk, you knew. He loved speaking during sex and he loved when you spoke during sex. Over the years, you two had tried any and every thing in the bedroom that you possibly could, and you had lost all shame when it came to voicing your desires. The filthier, the better actually. Osamu could easily cum if you talked him through it.
Pair that with your days-old ruminating thoughts, and everything spilled out of you like word vomit.
“‘Samu,” you gasped. “Fuck me hard and deep, please. Please. Need to- need to be filled up with your cum, daddy. Need it.”
Osamu’s thrusts sped up and he cursed under his breath. “You’ll get it, babygirl. You’ll get daddy’s cum. Every last drop.”
You nodded frantically, crying out at a particularly well aimed thrust. “Yes! I- Osamu!” You wailed when his thumb made contact with your clit. Your nails dug into his back as you scrambled to pull him close. “Gimme. ‘Samu, gimme.”
Osamu was moaning into the skin of your neck, your legs over his shoulders and your body bent in half. “What’s gotten into ya today, baby? So greedy.”
You wound a hand through his hair, feeling the knot in your stomach pull tighter and tighter. You were seconds away from an orgasm. You pulled his head up by the hair until he was looking into your eyes. Your tears-coated, weepy eyes.
“Get me pregnant, Osamu. I want your kids.”
You didn’t have the time or the mental coherence to look at his reaction, because your orgasm washed over you like a freight train. Osamu’s movements stuttered, as a result of your words or you reaching your peak, you didn’t know. All you could do was feel the waves of electricity wash over you as you tried to breathe through the overwhelming feeling.
It was only when Osamu slowed to a stop in you, still twitching and throbbing, that you opened your wet eyes. He was looking down at you with mouth slightly open in shock, breathing still labored from his previous exertion. His dark hair was messy, stuck to the sweat on his forehead. All was silent between you.
“Are you serious?” He breathed, trying to see through your post-orgasm face. You nodded slowly.
“Thought about it a lot.” You admitted, tightening your legs around his waist a bit. “I’m ready if you are.”
A few more seconds, before Osamu bit his bottom lip and groaned, eyes falling to half mast again. He breathed deep, shaking his head. The corner of his mouth twitched up a bit.
“Do ya know how long I’ve waited fer this?” His voice was husky. He pulled himself up and unwound your legs from his waist. Then he bent you in half again, before setting a fast, bruising, brutal pace.
You gasped and threw your head back at the sudden change, pussy still sensitive from your orgasm, jaw going slack. His cock pounded into you with all the ferocity he could summon, one of the roughest sessions you two had had for a while, burning through you like embers crawling under your skin.
“Thought ‘bout it so much.” He continued choking out words, not slowing in the slightest. “The thought of ya all fat an’ swollen with ma kids. Fuck. Yer gonna look radiant.”
You moaned with him, picturing your pregnant belly, glowing face. Picturing a little human that you will birth. A human that Osamu could potentially put in you now.
“Daddy,” you whined. “Need…. I need- please.”
“Need what, baby?” Osamu had a little smirk on his face. His skin was flushed and damp, a drop of sweat rolling down the side of his face. His eyes were so dark you couldn’t make out his pupils. He looked feral.
“Need my load in ya? That it? Need ta take every last drop, yeah? Can’t risk wastin’ it.”
His hand came up, winding into your hair and tugging hard until you yelped.
“Take it, doll. Take it-”
His voice broke into a long moan as his hips stuttered and you felt warmth flood your insides, his bulging biceps trembling as he tried to hold his weight up through his orgasm. He was loud through it, coaxing you with rough words and even rougher fingers pinching your clit until you came one last time with a heaving cry, eyes rolling up into your head.
You had barely caught your breath when Osamu reached up to grip your face tightly with one hand, your cheeks squishing together. You stared at him with zoned out, misty eyes.
“Don’t ya dare waste a single drop.” He whispered so close that his lips brushed your puckered ones. “Keep it inside yer pussy like a grateful slut, ya hear me?”
You moaned in response, nodding weakly against his grip. He pulled out then and you clenched tightly, but you could feel it as a little bit trailed down your crack. Osamu hummed in disappointment, holding your legs open and watching as his cum leaked out.
“Poor baby. Couldn’t do it, could ya?” You felt him lean forward and brush a surprisingly soft kiss below your ear.
“I guess I’ll just have ta keep goin’ until I know yer pregnant fer sure.”
Taglist:
@bxbyyyjocelyn @thisbicc @lazuliquartz @dreamayy @kuroosluthoe @true-form-hoe @akumakitsune21 @cham0mil3-and-h0n3y @samisfunky @universal-s1ut @msbyomimi @dohwaesu @leothesquishy y @n0tmykays @tsukiran @reyofsunshinelol @bleach-your-panties @galaneiaeris @leyra-giovanni @erenspersonalwh0re @peachesncats @soapsoftheworld @iwannabecamiloshovel @vintagevict0ria @smithieandy @moonlit-mizukage @snazzyturtles @argwein
A/N: For those whose tags arent working, im sorry! I tried and for some reason, your names wont show up in the mentions :( another way of being notified is to turn on my blog notifs for @teamatsumufics . I only reblog my fics there so it serves almost like being in a taglist!
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utahimeow · 1 year
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home workout | wakatoshi ushijima
summary — wakatoshi works out at home. he looks hot doing it.
pairing — wakatoshi ushijima x reader
warnings — nsfw content. minors dni. smut, blowjob, cum swallowing, pet name ‘my love’
word count — 1.3k
author’s note — please listen to this audio of wakatoshi (and kuroo) breathing heavily for the most effective experience
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It’s not your fault your boyfriend is totally irresistible. He’s tempting you on purpose– you’re sure of it.
You’re trying so, so hard to focus on the reality show playing on the TV, but Waktoshi is being terribly obscene. A few feet away, he’s splayed out on a yoga mat, lifting dumbbells over his head.
It’s unintentional, the way he gasps and heaves and, ever so often, groans. It’s unintentional, yet it leaves you squeezing your thighs together and biting down on your tongue because your mind is starting to wander.
If you were a better person, you’d go to any other room in the house and let him work out in peace. But you stay seated, let your eyes creep over to the titan of a man in your living room.
He’s a powerhouse in every aspect. You’d think that maybe you’d be used to it after having him in your life for so long, but your eyes widen and drool pools in your mouth at the sight of him.
Thick, hard thighs. Veined arm muscles, straining. Carved pectorals and abdomen, clenching with every movement. Corded muscle over every inch of his body–a display of pure, unwavering strength. The manifestation of years of work he’s put into the sport he plays for a living now. Wakatoshi’s tan skin gleams with droplets of sweat, too, face flushed down to his chest.
It’s terribly, horribly teasing. It’s precisely what he looks like when he’s above you, rutting his powerful hips into yours relentlessly, face morphed into a mixture of concentration and bliss. It’s what he sounds like when he pounds away at you, brings you to tears from pure bliss.
You want him. You need him. Your mouth is too empty, you decide. So you stand, shuffling over to him with an edge of guilt.
“Can you stop?” you say, standing by his mat.
He pauses, thick eyebrows furrowing. Concern quickly fills his sharp features.
“What have I done, my love?”
“You’re hot. It’s distracting me,” you tell him, crossing your chest.
His shoulders sag when it hits him he hasn’t actually done anything wrong and he chuckles, a deep rumble in his broad chest. “I apologise. Can you forgive me?”
“I will if you let me suck your dick,” you say, already sinking to your knees between his robust thighs. There’s mischief dancing behind the batting of your eyelashes, enticing your sweet boyfriend.
Wakatoshi likes to think he’s focused– it’s what he’s been told all his life, by coaches and teachers alike. His concentration never wavers, his determination ever so stable. Around you, though? He becomes entirely unrelenting.
It’s why he doesn’t stop you as you paw at his jersey shorts, smoothing a hand up his thigh, along his crotch, up to the waistband. It’s why he nods when you peer up at him for permission to pull them down his legs, no matter how simple it would be for him to ask you politely to wait until he finishes the few reps he has left.
His boxers come down and his cock, half-hard, springs upwards in its entirety. Your fingertips barely touch when they wrap around the tanned flesh which jumps when you start stroking up and down gently.
Drool pools in your mouth, your lidded eyes dropping to the sight of your boyfriend’s perfect dick. With your bottom lip caught between your teeth, you pump up and down his veiny length until he’s rock hard and blushing and pearly rivulets of pre dribble from the slit of his tip.
That’s when you start to drag your tongue along him, from his base all the way to his head, watching attentively as his head falls back and he showcases his glistening Adam’s apple. He’s always so sensitive, falling apart at your slightest touch.
Your thumb teases his slit, smearing pre over his tip as it leaks while your tongue traces the veins that adorn his cock. And then, with a lustful hunger burning deep in your abdomen, your lips wrap around him and swallow.
You hardly give yourself a second to adjust as you take half of him without hesitation, tears welling and throat clenching as you adjust to the girthy intrusion. Wakatoshi hisses as his giant hand flies to your scalp, stopping you before you can push yourself any further.
“Easy, my love,” he says in a strained whisper.
It’s hard to take his advice when you peer up and catch the tensing of his hard muscles, the parting of his lips, and the affection that glimmers in his olive eyes. It urges you on, really.
You pull back with webs of spit connecting your lips to his cock, stomach fluttering as your boyfriend brings his hand to your cheek and strokes it with his thumb. A second later and you’re dipping your head back down to envelop your mouth around him, choosing to bob your head this time.
“Oh, f-” Wakatoshi cuts himself off with a groan, your throat so warm and tight around him that he shivers. He sighs when your free hand moves to grasp at one of his heavy balls, squeezing lightly but it’s just enough to make his cock throb in your mouth.
As you bob, you take him further and further until your nose is pressed to his pelvis and the dark wiry hairs of his happy trail tickle your skin. He squeezes his eyes shut from the jolts of pleasure that travel deep into his core, his brain turning to fog from the bliss of your slippery mouth. His flesh becomes seared, the blush on his cheeks seeping down to his chest.
Your throat clicks and splutters around him–he’s so big, not meant to be taken like this, and yet you do. With wet eyes and a numb mind, you keep him shoved down your mouth as your fingers take turns fondling one of his balls at a time.
Wakatoshi thinks he’s close to passing out. He can hardly remind himself to stave off his orgasm, too busy as he’s rapt by the burning pleasure of your tongue working his cock.
You pull away, heaving for air, but it’s only to mouth at his balls and suckle at them until they’re covered in your slobber. You trail your tongue along the underside of his cock next, watching him gulp– watching him slowly fall apart.
When you swirl your tongue and suck lightly at his tip, Wakatoshi moans. His abdomen tightens, his fingers scratching at your scalp as they tangle into your roots. He’s losing all semblance of composure. You can tell, from the way his thighs tense and ragged breaths fall from his lips.
“I’m- close,” he groans, low, through clenched teeth.
You’re bobbing your head again with determination, the lewd sounds every time you lower your mouth only bringing Wakatoshi to his edge more quickly. With your hand pumping up and down simultaneously, he doesn’t stand a chance.
His cock twitches in your mouth, and with a deep, rumbling groan that shakes his entire body, he releases. His warm load spills down your throat, his muscles bulging as pleasure wracks his huge body. A Roman god succumbing.
As you pull off of him to replenish your lungs, Wakatoshi’s mind is airy. To him, one thing becomes clear, however.
He lunges forward, scooping you up with ease despite having orgasmed just a moment ago.
“Wakatoshi!” you squeal as he tosses you upon the couch. He kisses you, messy, licking into your mouth like he’s trying to taste himself on your tongue. It makes your head spin.
“I’d like to make sure you’ll forgive me,” he says, still breathless and blushing. His hands wander up your t-shirt, fingertips brushing at your skin making you shiver. “Will you let me return the favour, please?”
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mymegumi · 4 months
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PRETTY BOY MANICURES ෆ KAGEYAMA TOBIO
⠀ note: don’t look at me idk
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kageyama’s really trying not to flinch—he is.
it’s just that his hands are extremely sensitive and you’re handling them so gently that it’s a bit like sensory overload for him—the feeling of your skin on his, the way you’re carefully holding his fingers as if they’re delicate, and the intensity of your gaze on your task. it’s both physically too much for him, and emotionally it’s a lot to handle as well.
his hands are his pride and joy, they’re what help him further his volleyball career and he’s always taken really good care of them. some might even say he’s focused too much on taking care of his hands, but he’s never even regarded opinions he deems unworthy to have any sort of weight to his life.
when you asked if you could paint his fingernails, he adamantly refused. he had volleyball to worry about, and while the polish wasn’t directly on his fingers, he was worried they might upset his carefully measured equilibrium. you’d been a bit downtrodden, but you’d understood and he’d loved you all the more for it. so, when it was summer vacation and he was technically in off-season and the matches were fewer and far between, when you asked him again, he’d agreed.
which is how he finds himself with you sitting across from him, holding up two small bottles of nail polish in one hand—one black and one white—with your other hand carefully inspecting his hands.
“which color?” you ask, shaking both of the bottles in front of his face. he’d already done his normal routine to file them down and trim the excess nail length, but you’d been happy to sit behind him and rest your chin on his shoulder to watch.
he shrugs. “i don’t care.”
“okay, well you have to pick one.” you combat, holding the bottles closer to his face and making him lean back slightly with a very slight smile. if you were anyone else, he’d have already changed his mind on this.
“i don’t really care. pick what you want.” he insists, hand resting on top of the both of yours to lower them out of his field of view. he hated when you blocked him from looking at you, even unintentionally.
you huff, leaning back away from him but back in again, as if you couldn’t stand to be even a foot apart from him. “but what if you hate the color i pick?”
“you picked it, so i couldn’t hate it.” he says, and he means every word of it. just the sight of it would remind him of you, so it’s not as if it’d be a bad choice all together.
“sweet talker.”
he furrows his brows together. “no, i’m being honest.” he’s been working hard on his honesty and candidacy on the court, so it’s been reflecting back a bit in his personal life as well.
“i know you are.” you smile, uncapping the black nail polish and holding his thumb steady in your hand. “makes you even sweeter.”
then, you stop talking for a bit, focused on making sure none of the nail polish ends up on his cuticles, and if it does, scraping it away with your own nail. you’re slow, steady, and methodical with your movements and kageyama is, for all intents and purposes, mesmerized by you.
there’s a sort of gracefulness to what you’re doing that he’s never really considered before—the movements to know how to manipulate the paint and then also how to make it lay flat.
he likes watching you concentrate because you’re sticking your tongue out and he thinks it’s adorable that you do that. it might be unconscious, just like when you open your mouth into a cute little ‘o’ shape when you put on your makeup, but he kinda wants to let you do his nails more if he can see it again. he likes watching you, because he finds that he’s always discovering something new about you. something that makes him fall harder and harder every time.
it takes time, doing his nails, and when he thought you were done, nails completely saturated in black paint and a look of accomplishment on your face, he’d wanted to move to hug you.
“hey!” you cry, hands reaching out to grab his wrists suddenly. “you have to let it dry, tobio.”
“how long will that take?” it’s been twenty minutes since he got to hold you and he’d getting antsy.
you think for a second. “probably five minutes, to make sure the coat is dry, but then i have to add the second coat, and then the top layer.”
he furrows his brow. maybe he hadn’t thought this plan through at all.
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veenxys · 7 months
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「Bokuto being a simp for you」
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bokuto loves you in so many ways that sometimes he can't explain; just feeling all of his love and compassion for you through small gestures, kind words whispered in the middle of the night or when you share a comfortable silence while doing your own thing because love doesn't have to be loud, just his comforting presence is the enough to overflow your heart.
he doesn't just say “how was your day” he says “tell me about your day”. he is genuinely interested in hearing you speak and enjoys this little moment with you. he hears you ramble with a smile on his face, often with one hand resting on his chin while the other absently plays with a lock of your hair while he keeps listening to everything you have to say.
he always walks on the outer side of the sidewalk when the two of you are walking side by side to keep you safe from the road, he holds your hand tightly and all it takes is just a light squeeze that all his attention goes to you.
he has a polaroid picture of you on his cell phone cover, and when he misses you, he usually takes it and with a silly smile on his face he runs his fingers gently over your face, as if he were stroking you.
when you go out and you’re carrying lots of bags, he’ll take them out of your hand and hold them for you until you get home. he is the type of boyfriend who will use your purse as if it were his and he doesn’t care about that. but when you go to buy a new purse, he wants you to buy one that suits him.
when you're sitting side by side somewhere and you need to bend down because you dropped something, he puts his hand on the corner of the table so that when you get back to your seat, you won't get hurt.
if he sees you sleepy or even napping, he won't think twice about gently resting your head on his shoulder or on his lap; stroking your hair, and leaving a few soft kisses on your temple from time to time.
he always helps you calm down when you have something important to do; like an important exam. he gently massages your shoulders and leaves occasional light kisses on your neck while saying encouraging words. he also makes you tea and if you want he helps you to review and always tells you how proud he is of you; showering you with kisses and hugs so you know he really means it. he also texts you during the day wishing you good luck.
he has such a unique and pure way of making you laugh; with silly jokes, exaggerated imitations of characters or people you don’t like, tickling you until you’re out of breath, leaving kisses all over your face while holding you as close to him as possible. he just doesn’t like to see his baby sad or bored.
he writes important things and puts them on a magnet on the fridge; like birthdays of your mutual friends, or date nights —and he puts a heart around the date to demonstrate that it’s your day — and even appointments with dentists or doctors.
he looks at you like you should be protected at all costs like you’re the most precious thing in the world. and honestly, he doesn’t care if you catch him staring at you, he won’t stop. he likes to notice your little quirks and habits and he finds them so goddamn cute.
he offers to walk you home and only leaves when he’s sure you’re safe; he always has your favorite dessert and gives it often for you, even without you asking.
he brushes your hair out of your face when you talk so he can see you better. most of the time it is a casual and subconscious gesture; he’s listening to you intently and when his eyes remain fixed on the strands of hair that fall over your face, he tucks them behind your ear or pushes them away from your face, gently running his fingers down your cheek in the process. he does this so often that you may get used to it after a while, but it always makes your heart race.
you notice how he always has at least one hair tie around his wrist. he tells you that it’s because he wants to make sure that you have one to tie your hair with any time you might need it since he knows how often you forget to bring one.
when it’s raining, he does literally everything so you don’t get wet. he gives you his jacket and when you share an umbrella, he always makes sure it completely covers you, he doesn’t care if his shoulder is all wet, the important thing is you.
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luvtsumu · 11 months
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atsumu's "bad" habit
atsumu x chubby reader!!!!, friends to lovers, more of a blurb of thoughts tbh LOL, gentle biting???, fluff, middle school atsumu, high school atsumu, timeskip atsumu LOL
best friends to lovers atsumu who never outgrew or got rid of his habit of biting you. at first it was a cuteness aggression, something he picked up from his mom who used to always lightly bite him and his brother's arms; now it was just a bad habit that is 9 times out of 10 done unconsciously
it started in middle school when you were voluntold to be his partner for a class project that would have to be worked on during summer vacation. the heat is brutal and so you had shown up to their house in shorts and a tank top that showed your arms off—all the other times you just showed up in a baggy shirt that allowed the breeze to hug you before leaving through the rest of the shirt.
there was no wind that one day--at all--so this was the first time atsumu had caught a glimpse of your shoulders.
he fought the urge to bite you the entire time you two were working on whatever the hell it was—it's not like he actually focused. it was only when dinner time came around and you had to go that something just came over him. at the door, as he and osamu were saying goodbye to you, atsumu just leans over and gives you a soft bite on the arm with his lips covering his teeth.
you literally froze and just gawked at him, unsure why the hell this dude was doing what YOUR mom would do
"atsumu!" osamu hissed, smacking his brother which pulled his twin right back into reality. atsumu stands straight with his face flushed red and frantically rubs your arm.
"m'sorry! i couldn't help it! y-yer so--" he swallows thickly, panicking to find the right words. his rubbing only gets quicker which generates a tickling heat on your skin. "yer just-- i was just-- when i-- i mean--"
it's only when you burst into laughter and grab onto his wrist that atsumu's shoulders relax. in fact, his whole body could have just dropped to the ground.
"it's okay," you reassured him with a smile, dropping your hold to give his hand a quick, gentle squeeze. "my mama does that, too. says it's because i've got chubby arms 'n it reminds 'er of marshmallows."
atsumu gasps and nods. "y-yeah!! and-- and yer just so sweet anyway!"
the biting continued and sometimes he'd even ask to which you always responded yes. it's not at all hurtful and it's pretty cute, especially when atsumy accompanies with a little chomping noise.
his teeth never actually grazed your skin, always covered by his lips to make sure he never actually hurt you. sometimes, if he couldn't bite you, he'd just opt to give you a gentle pinch. his nose would always scrunch when he did this and you'd always laugh.
eventually, it went unnoticed. eventually, because perhaps you were enabling him too much, the biting actually reached to other parts of your body like your shoulders, your forearms, sometimes even your ankles. but it was never something you two noticed. eventually, it was something others always noticed.
like that one time in 3rd year high school that atsumu bit (once again with his lips covering his teeth) your cheek to say goodbye.
"why don't you just give her cheek a kiss?" suna chuckles as he, the miya twins, and ginjima made their way from the cafeteria to the gym for a quick meeting, "it's more normal that way, you know?"
atsumu gives him a confused look. "huh? what do you mean?" the blond tilts his head. "why would i kiss her cheek?"
osamu rolls his eyes. he's tired of his brother's oblivion.
"why would you bite??? her cheek???" ginjima shoots back.
there's a silence and everyone just stares at atsumu. he, for the life of him, couldn't even recall that he actually did that. he bit your cheek??? really???? he's quick to yank his phone out of his pocket to text you, typing, "did i??? bite your cheek?????"
you respond with, "ya. i don't mind LOL it didn't hurt."
"bro i didn't even recognize that i did that."
"really? LOL i always thought you knew. you've been doing it more often actually. i really don't mind though. it's cute."
"yeah anything i do is cute. but damn. maybe i am an airhead..."
"yeah and conceited too :-|"
it eventually stops though when you two separate after high school. you went to osaka for university and atsumu went straight into achieving his dreams of professional volleyball.
of course you two didn't lose touch!! there were plenty of video calls, text messages, voice messages, video messages, personal poscast episodes, you name it!!! there just wasn't as much physical closeness as there used to. there was something missing and at first atsumu couldn't figure out what.
he tells you he misses you, says that things aren't the same when you aren't there to yell at him in person or throw things at him. he says it's even more lonely that osamu isn't with him 24/7. he says he's not used to having nobody whine about the heat, or whine about wanting a popsicle, or almost cry about an onigiri craving they've had for weeks.
and then, he remembers why it's YOU he misses. he jokes that he misses biting you and nothing satisfies him (even if he downs an entire bag of marshmallows ((which is???? wtf??? 😭😭😭))))))
you jokingly tell him there's so many new people he can meet and start biting, especially when he finds "the one"
this is you testing the waters a bit, wondering if atsumu might talk about any kind of feelings he juuuust miiight have. it's always been confusing for you, not sure where you fit when it comes to his categories of relationships. sure you were the only one he was ever that physically affectionate with... but what if it's because you two grew up together and he maybe sees you as some sort of sibling?
you're reassured when atsumu lets out the biggest sigh, telling you that "nah. no one's like ya. i only wanna bite ya. s'never gonna be the same and i don't even wanna try it."
you laugh and atsumu smiles. there's a dreamy look in his eyes that goes unnoticed by you during this video call.
but you see it so clearly when you surprise atsumu during one of his games.
"y-y/n?!" atsumu screams at the top of his lungs, "that you?!???!?! you standing there with my jersey number on??!?!"
you laugh and wave your arms, not even given a chance to respond before you're body checked almost to the ground. you laugh harder as atsumu cages you in his embrace, giving you the tighest hug you've ever had thus far. he squeezes you, lets his hands grab at your skin and breathes you in.
"i fucking missed you," he'd breathe into your neck, almost tearing up at the way his body knows he's safe with you, "even though you literally sat in a video call with me during my before game poop."
you laugh and smack his arm. "why would you say that out loud?!" you exclaim, your head thrown back which atsumu places his hand behind. he lets you stand, admiring you expression before joining you. he keeps you close though, his other hand glued to your hips as he moved the one behind your head to your cheeks.
"i missed these!" he beams, giving your cheek a pinch before leaning in to bite them gently. he pulls away, giggles to himself before nipping down your jaw, to your neck, to your shoulders, and eventually to your arm. your breath hitches the entire time and you're tense.
you're adults now. it's just a little different than before.
but it's all the same to atsumu. especially when he pulls away only to give you a quick peck on the lips.
"since suna was tellin' me that biting ya wasn't enough."
your expression twists, but the both of you share a laugh.
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dimepdf · 1 year
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𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑. + 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐀 𝐊𝐎𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐄
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masterlist. / taglist. / any request? synopsis. you have Kiyoko and Tanaka to blame for your boyfriend Kenma's raging baby fever part one
pairing. dilf!kenma kozume x reader
word count. 1.2k
genre and warnings. domestic fluff, literally tooth rotting fluff, family fluff, established relationship, parenthood, family fluff, mentions of pregnancy, kenma with baby fever, tanaka and his devil daughter, suggestive ending, NOTE BETA'D | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍
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"Ah, ah! No, spit it out, booger!" Tanaka demands, snatching his daughter Nami into his arms. 
Taking the object she was chewing out of her hands after seeing her pick it up off the ground and place it in her mouth. The toddler writhes in his arms and even snarls as if she were a barbaric monster in resistance to being picked up.
After giving their episode a casual glance, Kiyoko went back to eating unbothered by her husband's and daughter's usual behavior. "And for that reason, Kenma, you shouldn't play zombie video games with a three-year-old."  
When the toddler was last at Kenma's house, he let her stay up way past her bedtime so he and Harue could play a few rounds of their favorite first-person shooter game before bed. 
Kenma stiffened guilty at the jab, realizing that he might have had some minor impact on the toddler's behavior from that time.
For Kenma, it had simply become normal for him to assume that all kids were like his son and had become desensitized to the violent video games they were playing together.
You replied, looking at Kiyoko and grinning, "I had to persuade this man that GTA wasn't a kid's game." Kenma visibly winced as he thought back to the lengthy conversation he had to have with Harue after the boy had been found in the virtual strip club receiving a lap dance.
"You're supposed to be on my side," he groaned, head leaning into your shoulder. Muttering under his breath about how at least Harue knew when to give a good tip.
It was the first week of spring, so it wasn't too hot to stay inside and whine about the air conditioning, and it wasn't too cold that you needed to put on a jacket to keep yourself from shivering. 
You eagerly agreed when Kiyoko texted that you should leave the house for the day for a small hangout at the local park to get some fresh air (mostly so she wouldn't strangle Tanaka).
The boys need some much-needed sunshine, always glued to their screens inside, so you had to pry them away from their video games and drag them to the park in a bribe that you would spend the night the entire weekend and hang out with them. 
Harue made use of his time at the park after taking Harue's away his switch and releasing him into the wild. You watched with a smile as he had already gathered a group of friends to run around with at the park.
Kenma was not so lucky at finding entertainment, not knowing how to make many conversations with Tanaka as the two men had drastically different hobbies outside of work. 
So he did what he did best: glued himself to your side the entire time, watching the children play while remaining utterly silent and with a bored expression on his face, but it was clear that he was simply just lost in thought.
You choose to ignore him and shift your attention to Kiyoko, who was leaning against the picnic table holding a sizable red Tupperware bowl and a plastic fork. You had no idea what bizarre food combinations she was eating this morning.
She would often talk to you about the strange cravings she had developed after learning she had gotten pregnant. 
To the point where you were almost starting to worry about the facetime calls, you would get from her scarfing down whatever she could grab in her kitchen or order from her phone.
"Hey lady, how are you feeling?"
She answers with a sigh."So fucking pregnant but mostly just hungry," 
"Well, you are eating for three now. Gotta feed those two little devil babies in ya." You light-heartedly tease.
Kiyoko hums, rubbing the front of her big belly. "Don’t speak badly of them too much, I'm convinced they smell fear." 
★  .  .  .    !
Once you've made it back to Kenma's penthouse, the rest of the day goes on as usual.
You took up your usual spot in the living room and made use of the 85-inch flat screen to catch up on a Netflix show you've decided to binge, the two boys immediately dispersed back to their respective rooms like addicts going back to playing their games.
It was a nice comforting moment alone that you would have until the boys got tired of staring at their computer screens and both scrambled into your personal space to watch the show without much complaint.
While Kenma occupied the other side of you and curled up in your chest, Harue was sprawled out against the couch, his head resting against your thigh. Both boys were the world's clingiest cuddle bugs, convinced they were the same person split into two.
After giving a small grunt and picking Harue up into his arms, Kenma shuffled his feet against the floor and left the room to tuck the child into the comfort of his bed. He returned, slouching back into his place, as you had to hold back your yawn letting him snuggle into you, his head resting against your chest. 
He makes a humming sound that almost sounds like he has been holding back on speaking. Over the volume of the show, you hardly hear it. He finally hesitates before asking, "Have you ever thought about having a baby?"
Your brows had actually raised in surprise as you looked down at him after the question. You only needed to notice the slight gleam in his eyes to know everything. 
Kenma considered wanting a second child, let alone having one with you. You gently answer back, "Oh, uh, I mean kinda," being careful not to answer wrongfully.
Kenma looks away from you while he plays with the sweatshirt's hem strings. "Kind of?" he repeats again in the hopes that you will clarify.
"Well, I mean, I wouldn't mind it," you sighed, losing all interest in the show. "It's just, I don't know, I prefer the whole tradition thing; getting married for love and then planting roots and starting a big family, you know."
"I could propose to you," Kenma admitted, his face glowing with excitement at the prospect of being married to you. "And then maybe you could move in. I’m sure Harue would love it—"
"Woah, Kenma, slow down," you interrupted, pushing away to give him enough space to sit up as you took his hand. "How about we just take it one step at a time, okay? First, I’ll move in, and then maybe much later we could have the marriage talk alright?"
Kenma smiles softly, interlacing your fingers with his as he brings your hand up to kiss your knuckle. "Okay, sorry, of course, we can take it slow,"  he agrees with a nod. 
"Also, do you realize how much harder it would be to have two kids running around?" you input, snatching your hand away to push at his chest. "I just had to teach you how to do your own laundry last week."
"In case you’ve forgotten, I raised Harue all on my own," Kenma pouts, pushing you back. "And he is a perfectly normal four-year-old," he adds lastly.
"Yeah, I know you did an amazing job, and I am very proud of you for that," Kenma's eyes darken with a glint, the compliment going straight to his dick as he tilts his head to the side, glancing at your lips before smiling at you.
You groaned, head leaning forward into his chest, taking a minute to juggle the pros and cons before muttering.
"Okay fine, but you better get me a pretty fucking ring."
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restlesswritingss · 1 year
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Sakusa x reader, suggestive language but no other warnings
Author’s Note: It’s my birthday today so this is part two of a couple of birthday scenarios I have that are mostly just self-indulgent fluff lol.
Contrary to popular (Atsumu’s) belief, Sakusa wasn’t completely heartless. He also was not a virgin, something else Atsumu constantly speculated on. Sakusa was just the type to separate work and life. 
He didn’t talk about his significant other because you belonged at home when he could relax, not in a sweaty locker room with his teammates. Why would he waste time talking about you when he could just go home to you? The same was said for home, he didn’t want to be asked about work he just wanted to relax. He had hard lines that had never crossed for the two years he’d been working for MSBY. 
Except now Atsumu had Hinata and Bokuto to help him drive Sakusa up the wall. The three had swarmed him now as soon as he walked into the gym.
“Why do you have all of next week off Omi?” Bokuto was the first to ask.
Sakusa’s face turned angrier than any of them had ever seen at the simple question. Sakusa did not want to be asked this because it was breaching into you territory. 
“You took the same week off last year, so what is it?” Atsumu pressed on while Hinata and Bokuto shied away at the murder in Omi’s eyes.
“It’s none of your business,” Sakusa grumbled and pushed past the three idiots.
“Leave Sakusa alone, his vacation time is his concern only so focus on practice,” Coach yelled to snap them into shape.
Atsumu cackled at that, “Omi on a vacation? Where to, the Artic where there are no people just penguins to bother him?” 
Sakusa ignored the remark. He wasn’t actually going on a vacation. He was just going to spend the whole week with you, doing whatever you wanted. It was how you two always celebrated your birthday for the past five years. You weren’t the type to want a fancy vacation, you two saved getaways for the summer weather. The first year you were together you’d told him all you wanted for your birthday was time with him, so he’d given you a whole week. Of course, gifts and nice dinners and fun activities were included as well. Now it was tradition. A tradition Sakusa before you would have found cheesy and unnecessary, but now nothing felt like enough to show you how much he loved you and the fact that you were born. Birthdays had never mattered to him but yours did because everything about you mattered to him. 
None of this was anything Atsumu needed to know.
“There’s no holidays this week so what is it? Do you go to a brothel and let out all the pent up steam you hold in for the rest of the year?” Atsumu joked. 
“I thought you said I gave off virgin energy,” Sakusa deadpanned, over this conversation.
Tomorrow his vacation started. After practice he was going to pick you up from your job. He’d wait outside his car for you to run out of the building just like you always did. He’d roll his eyes but open his arms and catch you as you jumped into his embrace. He’d mumble that you should be more professional outside of your place of work as you bombarded his face with kisses. You’d both know he never wanted you to stop. He couldn’t wait.
But for now he had to get through practice. 
Bokuto smiled at him, “Well I just hope you get to relax Omi. You’re always so tense!”
Sakusa nodded appreciatively at his teammate, still just wanting the topic of his time-off to be done with. If they found out what he was doing, they’d find out about you and then he’d have to deal with the annoyance of why he never said he had a partner before. 
Too late, Atsumu wasn’t about to let this go, “You need to get laid on this vacation, that’s what will make you less tense. Trust me.”
Atsumu of course wasn’t that big of a ladies man, being a giant sap himself. He wasn’t celibate either though. This he always tried to push onto Sakusa given that he was under the impression his teammate was single and just too socially awkward to talk to people.
But Sakusa talked to you, he’d even been the first to approach you. Against all odds, Sakusa was really flirty and forward with you. He was also most definitely not a virgin. This wasn’t something he felt the need to defend himself on though. Atsumu thinking he was a virgin with no game didn’t change his active and adventurous sex life with a partner he deeply cared about and trusted. How else would he be able to not rip the idiot’s bleached head off if he wasn’t getting off most nights (and sometimes mornings)?
Coach again yelled at Atsumu to get back to practice, and this time the setter surprisingly obliged since he realized he wasn’t going to get anything out of Kiyoomi. 
Practice went on as usual except for their lunch break. Sakusa normally ate in the bleachers with the rest of the team without engaging in conversation unless forced to. He’d learned early if he tried to eat in his car and talk on the phone with you, Atsumu would knock on his window and try to see what he was up to. 
But today you’d texted him that you were sent home early from work to start off your birthday week early. You were debating taking a taxi or the train home. Sakusa deflated a bit now that he wouldn’t get his usual picking you up kisses. 
Also he was never liked you taking public transit or taxis. It wasn’t safe. You in his car was best. He immediately stepped out to call you. 
“Hi baby! Let me guess, you don’t think I should take either because you picking me up is safest,” You teased immediately.
Sakusa blushed at you knowing him so well, “It is. Should I leave practice early? I could talk to Coach.”
“And tell him what? You have intense diarrhea? Or that you are a worry wart who needs to pick up their partner from work because you don’t trust public transport to get them home safely?”
“Maybe I just like picking you up because it means more time together?”
Sakusa never failed to make you speechless when he got sincere.
“What, no snide comment now?” He teased at your silence.
“I’m thinking of one give me a moment.”
He smiled at that, “Well it’s your birth week so take as long as you need and I am leaving early to come get you. Go the to that café next to your office and get yourself one of everything on my card to kick it off.”
“Kiyoomi,-”
It was his turn to know what you were going to say, “It’s not a big deal for me to leave practice for one day for you. I’d quit volleyball altogether for you.”
“Kiyo, I would never ask you to quit your passion. Plus you’re already taking a whole week off just for my birthday-”
“Celebrating you is more important than practice,” he interjected. 
He didn’t like when you acted like his job was more important than your relationship. He’d leave in the middle of a set if you needed him. You were more important than any game to him. Sure he kept work and home separate, but home always came first. 
“I would like if you came to get me. Do you want anything from the café?” You said softly, accepting his love. It was always hard for you to not push back when you felt he was doing too much, but it did make you feel loved. 
Sakusa smiled, “Just a black coffee. I’ll be there in twenty. I love you.”
Your sweet I love you too fell on deaf ears because in that moment Sakusa looked up from his phone to see his three teammates standing just outside the gym door. Oh fuck, how much did they hear?
“Omi has a girlfriend!” Hinata shrieked. 
Sakusa saw red. This wasn’t supposed to happen this way. He hadn’t planned to hide you forever. But he wanted to do it on his terms, wanted to keep it from getting out in the media, wanted to protect you. 
You’d come to games, but never sat in the team family suite. You preferred to sit in the stands, liking being actually closer to the court so you could see your boyfriend play. Sakusa loved being able to see you in the crowd so it was his preference too. 
But now he was going to have to kill his teammates quickly before he went and picked you up. Then onto your birthday celebration. 
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chaxiu · 1 year
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growing sideways
pairing: kuroo tetsurou x fem! reader
summary: kuroo tetsurou is all grown up. you think you might have to learn to let him go. or: an exploration of love, and loving things.
note: sorry that it's been so long!! college has been so silly funny goofy (derogatory) but i'm on break now and pretending that i dno't have to go back in a week.
sort of spoilers for occupations (kuroo, kenma, yaku) post-timeskip! (but also doesn’t really follow canonical futures… sort of a mess, to be honest.) my attempt at reconciling what i’d hoped for him and what he becomes.  title taken from a noah kahan song of the same name that has next to nothing to do with the actual fic.
cw: mention of throwing up (doesn’t actually happen, though)
___
When Kuroo Tetsurou gets scouted to a professional team in Russia, you’re the last person he tells. Technically, he doesn’t tell you at all – it’s Kenma who does, blinking up at you from behind a curtain of his hair.
“I thought he’d told you already,” he says, voice as apologetic as you’ve ever heard it, which is to say apathetic, as always, but with a dash of sympathy mixed in.
“No,” you say, because there’s nothing else left you can say. “He didn’t.”
Kenma doesn’t say anything, shifting his focus back to his game. You take the moment he offers you to exhale, quietly. To resituate yourself around this new hurt in your chest.
“Does everyone else know?” you ask. Kenma lifts one of his shoulders up, a half-shrug.
“Maybe not his mom,” he offers. This is poor consolation, and both of you know it – Kuroo hasn’t talked to his mother beyond stilted platitudes in years, not since she uprooted her life and his sister and half his chest and taken it with her, leaving a husband, a son, and a house with too many rooms.
“So he’s gonna take it, then,” you say. Kuroo is a lot of things – mercurial, bright, a pain in the ass when he puts his mind to it – but everyone knows that first and foremost, he’s a volleyball player. You’d realized it for yourself, back in your first year of university, when one of your friends had dragged you to a match and you’d spotted him, arms outstretched, fingers splayed and braced as if he thought he could hold a sun in his hands. When he’d landed, you’d caught sight of his grin, almost too large for his face.
Ah, you’d thought. So this is what it means to love something.
The next morning, at your eight-thirty introductory economics lecture, you’d shuffled in and put your head down on the desk, drifting closer and closer to sleep every second. 
Then the person behind you had poked you, hard, and you’d let out a half-scream, jolting up in your seat in a way that made every single person in your lecture hall, including your professor, look at you.
The person behind you had started laughing – an ugly laugh, cackling like a hyena, the kind of laugh that made you want to join in, despite your burning embarrassment. You’d swiveled around to face him as the professor resumed his lecturing.
“What is wrong with you,” you’d hissed. It was the boy from yesterday– the middle blocker with the awful hair.
He’d raised his hands up in surrender, although there was still a crooked grin on his face. “Sorry, sorry,” he’d said. “Just was wondering if you had a pencil.”
“You know,” you’d said, fishing one from your bag. “There are easier ways to ask people for a pencil than giving them heart attacks.”
You’d passed the pencil to him, and he’d given you a jaunty little salute with it, one that made your lips curl up despite yourself. “I’ll keep it in mind,” he’d said, and you’d turned back around again, and that was that.
Except the next lecture, you’d arrived at your usual seat to find a disposable cup of coffee there, likely from the little cafe downstairs. You’d turned to the boy behind you, raising your eyebrows.
“As a thank you,” he’d shrugged, leaning back in his chair in a way you’d suspected was meant to be cool and casual. “And also so that you don’t keep falling asleep in lecture.”
“How do you know I’ve been falling asleep in lecture,” you’d said, a little grumpily, pulling the cup towards you and taking a sip nonetheless. It wasn’t your usual order, but it was drinkable, and if you were being honest, you’d need all the caffeine you could get.
He’d watched you take a sip of the drink, a pleased smile playing on his face. “I sit right behind you. I’ve seen you take a nap at your desk every single week.” 
“I’ll have you know that that’s just the posture I learn best in,” you’d sniffed.
“What, drooling?”
“I do not drool,” you’d said, haughty. “And even if I did, how would you even know? You’re such a stalker.”
“Harsh,” he’d whistled, although the smile didn’t leave his face. “I’m just observant.”
You’d rolled your eyes at him, swiveling around to face the front of the room as the professor began his lecture. And if you’d managed – for the first time this entire semester – to make it all the way through without falling asleep, well, that was nobody’s business but your own.
The next week, another cup was waiting for you. 
“You know,” you’d said, “I think you’ve repaid your debt from the pencil in full.”
“Oh, this isn’t about the pencil,” he’d replied. “I didn’t get the right order for you last week, did I? I wanted to try again this time.”
You’d blinked at him. “I don’t even know your name.”
“Kuroo,” he’d said. “Kuroo Tetsurou.”
“Well, Kuroo Tetsurou,” you’d said, “did you ever think about just asking me for my order?”
“What’s the fun in that?” he’d asked.
The drinks kept coming, every week, without fail, ranging from plain to ridiculously extravagant. He still hadn’t gotten your order, although at some point during the semester, he’d migrated from sitting behind you to sitting right next to you, passing you stupid notes and doodling all over your notebooks.
The last lecture’s drink was wrong, again, although you kept drinking it anyways. “You should come hang out with me and my friends sometime,” he’d said, sudden, and you’d nearly choked.
“What brought this on?”
“I dunno,” he’d said, uncharacteristically shy, looking away from you. “You know when you meet some people and it’s just like, they’re meant to be in my life, so you have to try really hard to not let them go?”
“So making a girl scream during lecture is your idea of an ideal introduction,” you’d said, and he’d rolled his eyes, leaning over to lightly push at your shoulder.
“You know what I mean.”
“I saw one of your volleyball matches,” you’d told him. Suddenly you’d wanted him to know. “At the beginning of the semester. Before we’d met.”
He seemed to understand what you were trying to say.  “What’d you think?” 
“You must really love it,” you’d said. “Playing volleyball.”
“I do.”
“Well, then, Kuroo-kun. I’ll come meet your friends, under one condition.” He’d raised his eyebrows at you, expectantly.
“I get to tell you my coffee order,” you’d said. “Some of these drinks are becoming downright disgusting.”
“You drink them anyway,” he’d replied. “But I suppose that’s a fair trade.”
You’d grinned at him, and he’d grinned back, and it’d all gone from there. 
You’ve known since you started talking to him that Kuroo is a natural at getting people to orbit around him. He draws people near – crooked grin, warm eyes, quick wit – and then holds them there, at arm’s length, never quite letting them get any closer. You’d thought, perhaps, that you could be an exception to this. That he’d seen something in you that was enough for him to want to let you in. To pull you close. The thing is this: in your heart of hearts you are a romantic, and to you Kuroo has always been a little like the sun, like tilting your face towards the golden wash of afternoon and remembering, soft and gentle like falling into something, So this is what it is to love.
“I don’t know,” Kenma says, and you look at him looking at his game. He is, out of anyone, the most likely to understand how you feel: the air knocked out of you, leaving you gasping and breathless . But he has the reassurance of more than a decade of friendship behind him, built on neighboring houses and the squeak of shoes on a gymnasium floor. Some days you feel like what you have with Kuroo is fragile and insubstantial, playing-card houses on a precarious surface. Like if he left he’d take it all with him.
“Of course he’s going to take it,” you say past the lump in your throat. “He’d be an idiot not to.”
Kenma doesn’t say anything, but the little sound effects from his game pause. He blinks up at you through his bangs.
“We should throw him a party,” you say. “Or something. To celebrate.”
“If you think that’s a good idea,” he says, noncommittal. 
There is an ache in your chest and you think that once you leave Kenma’s apartment you won’t be able to stop yourself from crying. “Of course it’s a good idea. You know how much Kuroo loves having everyone he loves in one place.”
“That’s exactly the thing,” Kenma murmurs, but you don’t hear him, already pulling out your phone to make a list.
“Invites, decorations, food… Oh! Kenma, do you think Kuroo would like it if we made him saba? Or went out to a restaurant that specializes?”
“Probably,” he says. The game resumes. “He’s always going on about doca-something acid.”
“Docosahexaenoic acid,” you correct absently, scrolling through a list of nearby restaurants. Kuroo’s talked about it enough – and despite your better judgment, you’ve listened to his rants enough times – for you to remember the name in full. 
You miss the look that Kenma gives you, exasperatedly fond.
It turns out that Kuroo knows a lot of people. Even more than you’d thought. There are the guys that he plays with on the volleyball team, of course, but then there’s also his other business major friends and the other undergraduates who work in the same lab that he does in his free time (because of course he’d be the type of person to do that.) Then there’s the neighbors he’d had freshman year and still miraculously keeps in touch with, and the ones from sophomore year. Then Kenma casually mentions that Kuroo still frequently talks to everyone from his volleyball team his third year of high school, and you have to beg him to let you use his phone and ensure that everyone from there will be able to attend.
Then there’s the issue of getting enough food: you know from prior experience that volleyball players can eat, and there’s a part of you that worries that the budget you’ve scraped together from whatever your friends managed to donate won’t be enough for one of them, let alone the stampede you’re about to invite into your apartment. And besides, there’s decorations to think about, and maybe a present for Kuroo, and maybe it would be cute if you could get one of those places that rents out cats to send over a couple – do those places actually exist or was the whole thing just a stress-induced hallucination? Either way, the stress of budgeting is enough to make you understand why Kuroo had succumbed to his base capitalistic tendencies and become a business major. You’ll never be able to make fun of him for it again.
Kenma solves this problem readily enough, extending a credit card towards you with barely any hesitation when you mention it in passing.
“Stop stressing out,” he mutters. “It’ll be okay. Kuro’s not the kind who’d care about things like that.”
You blink at him. He determinedly avoids your eyes. “Kenma,” you say. “You know what I have to do, don’t you.”
He sighs, setting down his game. “If you must.”
You launch yourself at him in a bone-crushing hug, and although you hear him click his tongue at you, you can also feel the way his hands come up to rest on your back, soft and steady. 
“He asked me if I’d seen you around recently,” Kenma mentions when you separate.
“What did you say?”
“Said you seemed busy. He said he hadn’t seen you and was worried he’d done something.”
There isn’t much to say back to that. You busy yourself by picking at one of the threads in your shirtsleeves.
Kenma says your name. 
“I know,” you say. “I know. I just – I don’t know.”
Kuroo has many smiles, you know. There’s the one when he’s trying to get a rise out of someone, lazy and lean. There’s the one when he sees a cute animal or a small child or the old lady you always run into the market, the one that reminds him of his obaa-chan. There’s the one he gets when he sees you, sometimes, and doesn’t realize that you’re seeing him back, small and fond in a way that makes you a little afraid, sometimes. At the enormity of it. At how fragile it seems, some days. At what it could become, if given the chance.
And there’s the one he has when he’s playing volleyball, the one that makes his eyes go all squinty; the one that’s a little too large, just on this side of feral, because he’s so happy that he doesn’t remember to think about things like presentability and not scaring the people around him, both on his side and the other side of the net. The one he has when he hits a kill block, or a no-touch ace. 
You don’t think you could stand to take that from him.
“I’ve just been busy. With the party planning, and all,” you finish, meekly. You know he knows you’re lying. Still, Kenma doesn’t push.
“If you say so,” he hums, turning back to his computer. “It seemed like he missed you, though.”
You hate yourself for the small spark of want that blooms in your chest. 
Kuroo Tetsurou, in another life, could probably be yours. You’ve seen the way his ears turn red sometimes when you press a little too close, thighs close enough to be touching at one of the tables of your favorite izakaya. You know he knows your favorites the same way that he knows his own, know that in his head there’s a file of nothing but his knowledge about you, filled to bursting. You know that there are days, hours, moments where his touch lingers on your wrist, your cheek, the back of your arm – never long enough to presume, just long enough for you to notice.
In this life, you’ve seen the way he plays volleyball clearly enough to know that he loves it. That in terms of paths, this is probably the most natural one for him, as easy as breathing. That the world is so big and he deserves to go out and see it, that he’s growing up and some days you feel in your bones that he’s leaving you behind, in the same way that you’d left behind the yellow rubber rainboots you’d adored as a child, outgrown and overworn.
You busy yourself with party planning, so that at least everyone except Kuroo knows that you have a valid reason for ignoring him. Once the budgeting crisis is averted, things go surprisingly smoothly: money really does make the world go round, you think, in a rare moment of reflection between arguing with the caterer and double-checking that you have enough chairs in your apartment.
It’s good, to keep busy. Drowns out your heartbeat in your ears. He’s leaving, he’s leaving, he’s leaving. He’s leaving and you’re not gonna even ask him to stay.
The day of the party is bright and clear, because the universe loves Kuroo in the same way that you do. Bokuto – one of Kuroo’s teammates, and one of your favorites out of all of Kuroo’s teammates (although you’ve long maintained that it would be difficult for Bokuto not to be anyone’s favorite) – is tasked with distracting Kuroo for the day, then leading him to your apartment. This is a good plan because Bokuto is, himself, easily distractible, and Kuroo is, more often than not, perfectly willing to go along with Bokuto’s distractions. However, this is also a bad plan because Bokuto is, out of everyone you’ve invited, perhaps the second-most likely person to spoil the plans for the party. (The first being Lev Haiba, naturally.) To counterbalance that, you’ve asked Akaashi Keiji, one of your juniors, to go along – he has a natural talent for keeping Bokuto in check, more so than anyone you’ve ever met. But you’d feel bad, leaving Akaashi alone to deal with the two of them like that, so to ensure your plan had the greatest chance of success possible, you convince (read: bribed) Kenma to go along with the three of them. Odds are good that he won’t do much to curb Kuroo and Bokuto, but you’re willing to hope that his presence will keep Kuroo from doing something completely insane.
Back in your apartment, you’re adding the last finishing touches to the streamers hanging in the doorway. Yaku, next to you, squints at the streamers. “They’re a little crooked,” he says.
You bite back your immediate response, which is to tell him that if you had a stepladder tall enough that he could reach you’d gladly go get it for him so he could fix them himself. Instead, you ask, “How is it, over there, Yakkun?”
“In Russia?” he asks, and you nod. He pauses, considering. “It was rough, at first.”
“But you got through it,” you say, voice coming out a little more desperately than you’d like. “You like it there now.”
“Yeah,” he says. “It won’t ever be Japan, but I think I can make it home. And Kuroo’s always been able to land on his feet, wherever it goes. I don’t think you need to worry about him, even if he does decide to take the offer.”
“Of course he’s going to take the offer,” you say. “Why wouldn’t he –”
Your phone buzzes in your pocket. You take it out to read a text from Akaashi. Heading back, it says. Be there in three.
Hurriedly, you jam your phone back into your pocket. “Okay, everyone, places!” you call, watching with a critical eye as everyone tucks themselves away.
“Lev, that’s not gonna work. Hiding behind the lamp’s not gonna do much.”
“Idiot,” you hear someone – Yaku? – mutter, and you laugh a little despite yourself. Your phone buzzes again. In the elevator, you read, and hastily you dive underneath a table with one of Kuroo’s kouhai from high school – Fukunaga, you think – to hide yourself, just as you hear the sound of a key in a lock. 
“I just don’t understand why she’d ask you to take care of her plants,” Kuroo says as he steps through the door, sounding a little bemused. “I mean, I love you, bro, but I still haven’t forgotten what happened that one time –”
Three, two, one, you mouth silently, holding your fingers out where everyone can see them, then –
“Surprise!” you call out, stepping out of your hiding place. The others all scramble to follow, adding their own voices to the chorus.
It is, to your delight, one of the few times you’ve seen Kuroo properly surprised, enough that he actually staggers back a step, eyes wide. 
“What – how – when – what is this for?” he asks, directing his question to you, standing right in front of him.
“To say congratulations, Kuroo,” you reply. Suddenly your throat is a little dry. “On getting the offer.”
This time his eyes widen with realization – and maybe a little flash of guilt. He covers it quickly, though, and you’re left a little uncertain, like stepping on uneven ground. 
“So you didn’t actually ask Bokuto to take care of your plants,” he says instead, and you laugh. The sound is a little brittle in your ears.
“Of course not,” you say. “I haven’t forgotten that one time when he –”
“Did I mention we have cake?” Bokuto swoops in. “I picked out the flavor myself and everything. You gotta come see it. The lady at the store was so nice, though I don’t think she understand exactly what I was asking her to put on it at first –”
With a wry eye roll to you, Kuroo lets himself be dragged away. The rest of the partygoers take it as their sign to start mingling, and you let yourself fade into the chatter, becoming nothing more than background noise. It fits uncomfortably, now, where before it might have been a little more natural. Kuroo has always been good at creating space intentionally, whether it be for you or anyone else: a sly smirk for your eyes only, a joke directed towards you and you alone. It’s one of the reasons why you think everyone feels like they can fall into his orbit more effortlessly. 
Kenma appears by your side, unobtrusive as usual. “You should talk to him.”
“And say what?”
“Whatever you want.”
There is a want in your throat and it chokes you. I want you to stay. I know you should go. I’m terrified that I’ll never see you again, either way – if I made you stay and you resented it, if I let you leave and you loved it. 
“I’m worried that he’s getting bored here,” you say instead. “Like it’s not challenging him enough. Like he wants more.”
There are things that you’re willing to admit you can be slightly paranoid about: like putting too much of your heart on the table, like finding someone who loves all of you but the worst parts. Like loving someone and watching them start to resent you, like wanting to learn how to love in the right way but really only learning how to suffocate. And you know it’s possible that in this could be a combination of all those things, that rationally Kuroo knows better than anyone what’s his to keep and what’s his to give away. But you’ve known him for so long now, and there’s a part of you that likes to think you know him better than almost anyone in the world. It’s that part of you that insists you can see Kuroo Tetsurou getting tired, a little bit. He walks off the court with his head tilted back, eyes closed against the glaring lights on the gymnasium, far above. When he looms over the net, you think of it as less a state of being and more of a conscious action: a weary sigh. Another day at work. 
Kuroo Tetsurou, you think, is learning to want new things. To love new things. And that’s okay – that’s more than okay. There’s just a selfish part of you that wishes you could be there to see him through it. 
Kenma hasn’t said anything, staring at you patiently. You think you might throw up.
“I have to go,” you say, limp, and spin on your heel to slip out the back door. Somewhere behind you, Bokuto’s cheers rise above the din, followed by Kuroo’s cackling laugh. It makes your chest ache a little, but at the very least it provides you with some cover.
Your little apartment building stands at an intersection between two streets. Turn right and you’ll get to the park with the stray cats, the ones who’ve started coming around more frequently now that Kuroo has started showing up (now that Kuroo has started bringing them treats, although he denies it every time you bring it up.) Turn left and walk far enough and there’s a little embankment that slopes down to a river. Sometimes in the mornings joggers will pass through the area, but in the dead of the night like it is now the grassy slope is deserted. You sink down onto it, ignoring the way the cold sinks into your skin.
Part of you wants to cry. Most of you is glad you aren’t: can’t, maybe, or won’t. 
You tell yourself the grand lesson in this is that you have to be better at letting go. That there is a lot that your hands could hold – a lot that your hands could want to hold, given the time. Given the opportunity – but not all of it is meant to be held by you. That there is a whole world out there and tonight it feels like it’s slipping through your fingers.
Perhaps the grand lesson is just this: that loss exists. That wanting perseveres.
“Hey,” a voice says from behind you. You know without turning who it is, fingers tightening in the grass.
“Hey,” you say back.
“Can I sit?”
You wave a hand listlessly at the space beside you. “There’s space available.”
He settles in next to you, close enough that your thighs could brush if you were a little more careless, if you hadn’t been holding yourself strung tight and stiff.
“Why aren’t you in there?” you ask finally, when it becomes clear that he has no intention of saying anything, that he’s planning on waiting until you start first. “It’s your party.”
“Why aren’t you in there?” he counters. “You planned it.”
“It was a little loud,” you offer. “Was getting a little sleepy.”
“You weren’t there anymore,” he says. “Kenma said he saw you heading out.”
The words stick in the hollow of your throat, between your collarbones. You can feel them lodged there. “Kuroo,” you say, careful to not let your voice shake, “you can’t say things like that.”
There’s a hand on your knee, long fingers and broad palms spreading over your skin easily. His hand is warm. You direct your gaze down to it. His hand is big enough that it nearly covers your knee.
“Why not?”
“It’s not fair,” you say. “I know you’re not that stupid, Kuroo. You can’t go saying things like that when you’re about to leave.”
He says your name, sharp and soft.
“And of course I’m happy you’re going. I know you’re not happy – not as happy here as you could be. I know it’s an incredible opportunity. I know you deserve it, and you deserve every incredible thing that comes your way. Or at least – I want to be happy for you, Kuroo. I want to be able to give you that much, at least.”
He says your name again. It sounds fond enough that you gain the courage to look up at him. He’s looking right at you. The hand on your knee reaches for your jaw, instead, cradling it tenderly.
“I think I’m gonna stay,” he says. “And I’m sorry for not telling you about the offer earlier. I just – I didn’t want you to think I was leaving. I wasn’t even sure if I was, at first. But then I kept coming back to it – the fact that I didn’t want you to think I was leaving. Not at all, not even a possibility. It made me realize that – well. Russia would be incredible. But I think – I know – I would rather stay.”
The words take a moment to sort themselves out in your brain. Then:
“Kuroo, you can’t,” you choke out. “This is your dream.”
“It was,” he says. “For the longest time, it was. And I thought it was something I had to keep loving. Something that I had to pursue. Like I would be doing a disservice to the me I was when I was little, if I decided I didn’t want to follow the path I’ve wanted since I first started playing volleyball.”
You say nothing. There is a sun rising in your throat. You are afraid to let it go.
“But you know,” he says, thoughtful, “I think there is a difference between loving something and being in love with something.”
“Yeah?” you say. He reaches for your hand, flipping it over from where it rests in the grass so that your palm is facing upward. Slots his fingers through the gaps between your own.
“Yeah,” he says, squeezing once, twice, three times. “Like – I love volleyball, you know.”
“I know,” you say, because you do.
“But I’m in love with it here. With Japan. With the connections I’ve made, with the people who keep me here.”
“I’m glad,” you say, because you are, selfishly so.
“And,” he says, hesitant in a way that you’ve only ever seen once before, back when he was just the boy with the awful laugh and the ugly hair and who kept getting you coffee and getting it wrong, “I’m in love with you.”
And the sun, blooming over the horizon.
495 notes · View notes
moonbeamwritings · 1 year
Text
In your full two years of dating Atsumu, he has never eaten the blue candies in a pack of sour gummies. The sweet blue raspberry flavor has not passed his lips even once, despite your insistence that he eat them too.
He’d offered you a handful of the candy on one of your first movie outings as a couple, and when you excitedly plucked a few of the blue ones from the pile, rambling about how they were your favorite and how you wished they made a pack of just blue ones, all he could do was shake his head.
“You can have ‘em. I don’t like ‘em.”
And every time he bought a pack of the sweets after that, Atsumu always plopped the blue ones into your waiting palm.
So it’s a shock, a betrayal, when you come home from work to find him lounging on the couch, a blue gummy on its final journey towards his open mouth.
“’Tsumu, my love,” you question carefully, “what’re you doing?”
With a mouthful of candy, he replies, “Eatin’ candy.”
You take his chin in your fingers and squeeze, squishing his lips together and giving him this cute little fish face. “Did I just see a blue one?”
You’re being dramatic, you know you are, but you need to get to the bottom of this. You’d been convinced for two whole years that he didn’t like them, and now this? You think it’s only fair to ask questions.
“Mmyuh.”
Your brows furrow. “I thought you didn’t like them?”
He tries to answer, he really does, but it’s a muffled, garbled mess with the way you’re holding his cheeks. Reluctantly, you let go so he can explain. “Well,” he’s sheepish, his cheeks turning red beneath your gaze. Your fingertips feel warm. “Ya got this really cute, excited look on yer face when ya said how much ya liked ‘em that I just... kinda lied.”
You’re floored by his confession, heart skipping a beat in your chest at how cute he is. A huge doofus, sure, but so damn adorable.
Without an immediate response, he keeps going. “And then every time after that, ya gave me this pleased lil’ smile when I handed ‘em over. What was I supposed to do?”
“Tell me the truth?”
He shrugs and mumbles a childish, “I guess.”
You bring a hand back up to smooth over his jawline, staring at him as his gaze flickers between your own and the forgotten package of sweets. With each passing second, you feel adoration pumping through your veins. 
Squishing his cheeks together again, you peck a kiss to his puckered lips, to the tip of his nose, before finally telling him, “You’re lucky you’re so cute.”
Atsumu chases your lips, kissing you once more, a dreamy look in his eyes. “Ya think ‘m cute?”
With a roll of your eyes, you settle onto the cushion next to him, throwing your legs across his lap. Atsumu beams at your proximity and slings an arm around your shoulders. And, falling back into an old habit, he places the bag of candy in your lap. “You can have the rest of the blue ones.”
You pull two from the bag and plop one into his hand. “We’ll share. We’ve gotta make up for lost time.”
“Mm,” he hums, kissing your temple, “I guess you’re right.”
9K notes · View notes
utahimeow · 1 year
Text
enamoured — kenma kozume
summary — kenma takes you to his company event, but neither of you really want to be there.
pairing — kenma x f!reader
warnings — nsfw content minors dni! smut with lots of fluff, fingering, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, established relationship
word count — 5.7k
author’s note — this is just kenma and reader being disgustingly in love like its so gross and cheesy pls don’t perceive me
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There aren’t many things that Kenma likes to put effort into.
He likes his job. He doesn’t have to do much except sit in his room and play video games while thousands of people watch. There’s volleyball–sometimes he wonders how he played it for so long without quitting. He loved the sport, but god, it made him tired. His appearance is… lacklustre. He probably could do something more with his style, but what’s the point if he’s not comfy?
You’re the single thing he often finds himself putting effort into. Not that you’re high-maintenance, or needy (although he would argue otherwise). It’s that he’s never cared so much about anything in his life as he cares about loving you. 
It was scary at first. Kenma couldn’t fathom that he was capable of having feelings like that. You consumed him long before he had even asked you to be his. It’s still scary. Sometimes he feels so much for you that he has no idea how to express it–he’s never had the chance. He tries though, and hopes you understand. Sometimes you don’t. Most times you do.
The only reason he’s going to the event tonight is because you’re coming with him. He couldn’t care less about meeting the strangers who invest in his company, even if without them his company wouldn’t exist. He couldn’t care less about meaningless praises about his success, or being sucked up to by people he won’t see for another year.
He’ll never admit it, but in a way he’s glad you’re too stubborn to give in to staying home. Before you, he wouldn’t have cared about how impolite it would be to ditch his own event. Now he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he had to watch you be disappointed in him for ditching. Besides, the designer dress he bought you is far too pretty to be left sitting in the closet. If not out of genuine interest, he’ll at least go so he can show you off a little.
When the taxi reaches the venue, Kenma offers his hand to you as you step out of the car–or rather, he requests your hand in his. Despite being twenty minutes late already, he takes slow strides towards the front entrance, but it’s not because he’s afraid you’ll fall behind in your platform heels (he knows you’re quite efficient in them). 
Once you make it to the hall that’s reserved especially for the event, Kenma halts just before entering. His face is straight as always, and even his eyes give away nothing, but this is Kenma Kozume. The man who can spend days on end without leaving your shared apartment unless it’s really urgent. Often you’re the only person who he sees for weeks at a time. Therefore, his next words don’t really come as a surprise–
“Don’t go anywhere, please.”
Still, they undoubtedly make your heart swell. You squeeze his hand, stepping closer to him to tuck a strand of loose, half-blond half-brown hair behind his ear. It’s mostly pulled back into a looped bun that you helped him style, but there are stray strands falling around his eyes, making it much more suited to him.
“The only reason I’m here is for you, Ken-Ken,” you say, and you giggle when his nose scrunches at the nickname. “You just have to be Kodzuken until your social battery dies, and then we can go home.”
“My social battery’s already dead,” he says, smug as always.
You roll your eyes playfully, letting your fingers brush against his neck as you adjust his tie that doesn’t need adjusting.
“Well, it’s just a couple hours, and I’ll be with you the entire time,” you assure him, not missing the way his eyes drop to sweep down your body–lingering on the neckline of your dress that’s teasingly low. He chews on the inside of his lip, his honey eyes gleaming and for a moment, there’s clarity in his expression.
Without another word, Kenma shoves his hands in the pockets of his pressed dress pants, waits for you to grab hold of his arm like he knows you will, and makes his entrance. He doesn’t make much of an effort to fix his posture, or introduce himself, only plasters a small smile onto his face and waits until people start to notice him.
It’s Kenma’s manager, Teppei Kishimoto, who finds you two first. Good thing, too. He’s one of the small number of people your boyfriend tolerates, and it’s because he does… basically everything for Kenma. Not in a pushover way, though. It’s more of a ‘gets shit done’ way. With him, Kenma’s learned to regret slacking off.
“Surprised you showed up at all, Kozume,” Teppei says, clapping a hand down on Kenma’s shoulder, charming as ever. He’s close enough to both of you now that he’s become more of a friend than a manager, but he’s good enough at his job to still keep things professional.
“I wouldn’t have if it weren’t for her,” he admits and tilts his head towards you, to which you scoff, smiling gently as Teppei pulls you in for a hug.
“Thank you for organising everything. You did amazing,” you say. He quite literally organised everything. From booking the venue to emailing out invites to hiring caterers, he made sure Kenma didn’t lift a finger.
“Come on, there’s people waiting to talk to you,” Teppei says, dragging Kenma towards a small crowd of guests. Gently you let go of his arm, trailing a few inches behind them instead. Kenma flicks his head back momentarily in search of you, just to assure himself that you’re still there.
The next while goes like this: Teppei introduces Kenma to some investors, Kenma introduces you as his girlfriend, you make small talk (though Teppei does most of the talking) until Kenma gets excused in order to talk to a different group of investors. It’s a lot of nodding along, laughing at jokes that aren’t that funny, and business talk. Safe to say you don’t have much to contribute, but you’re happy to be there.
On one side of the hall, there’s a table filled with champagne flutes, so you tug at your boyfriend’s arm and lean into his ear. 
“I’m just grabbing a glass of champagne. Do you want some?” He hardly ever drinks and if he does it’s beer bottles, but you offer anyway–a little alcohol might help loosen him up, especially with how stiff he is under your touch.
“No, thanks,” he replies. You nod, giving his bicep a squeeze before heading towards the drinks. As you turn away you catch a tinge of pink on his cheeks which in turn makes warmth spread through your own body and a tiny grin stretches your lips. 
Kenma looks ridiculously good–it almost annoys you. It’s a shame he doesn’t put effort into his appearance more often, especially when all he’s done tonight is tied his hair back into a neater-than-usual bun and put on a tailored suit. Maybe it’s better for your health though. You can barely control yourself when he’s in his ripped sweatpants and ten-year-old hoodies.
You’re not sure how long you can keep it together tonight, though. The way his pants hug his slim legs and how his jacket follows the curve of his waist makes you bite down on your bottom lip, wishing it was his skin you were biting down on. His usual garb never shows off anything–his legs, small waist, wider shoulders. The only time they’re on display is when he’s inside you.
With a deep breath and a dull warmth between your legs, you pluck a flute of champagne from the table before sidling back over to Kenma, staying true to your promise. 
You’re like a tick the way you stay glued to him, but he leans into your touch–appreciates it. 
Eventually, his muscles tense up once more when Teppei offhandedly mentions that Kenma will be making a speech. He turns to you immediately, a hint of panic in his eyes.
“It’ll only be a few words, just to thank patrons for showing up,” Teppei assures him, knowing his client. “Don’t worry.”
Still, there’s not much resolve on your boyfriend’s face.
“Babe, you talk in front of hundreds and thousands of people daily. There’s only like a hundred tonight,” you reason.
“Yeah, but my stream viewers aren’t… real,” he says. It makes you chuckle. He’s told you before that in his mind, he can’t fathom the fact that his viewers are real people. Therefore, he can’t be anxious about streaming. 
“It won’t take more than… thirty seconds. That’s all,” Teppei says. You nod your head, agreeing, but Kenma’s face remains troubled. 
You lean into his ear again, bringing your voice to a whisper. “After you do it, we’ll go home, okay? You look too good in this suit. I can't take it anymore.”
He chews on the inside of his cheek, swallowing as his eyes become distant. The cogs in his brain begin to turn. Teppei raises a brow at you, but he doesn’t say anything. He can’t, not when Kenma, of his own accord, begins to make his way up to the small stage on top of which a podium stands.
Kenma stands there, with his shoulders hunched and his hands tucked into his pockets. He’s not doing anything, yet you so badly wish you were on your knees in front of him. 
“Hello,” he says, flat as always. His voice is swallowed by the din of the crowd, but slowly it grows quieter as the guests take notice of his presence, until finally it dies into a complete silence.
“I’m Kenma Kozume. I’m the CEO of Bouncing Ball corporation,” he says. He stares down at the microphone mostly, his cat eyes only flicking up ever so often. You’re smiling like a proud mother regardless, mostly because of the excitement that’s starting to overtake you when you think about how soon you’ll have him all to yourself.
“Thank you for coming tonight, um, I appreciate seeing you all. I wanna thank my manager, Teppei Kishimoto, for organising this event,” he says, before his eyes land on your smiling face. Your eyes, however, flash with want when you bat your lashes. Kenma has half a mind to thank you in his speech–for what? Maybe for being pretty.
He clears his throat, forcing himself to tear his eyes away from you before he gets down on one knee and proposes. “I’m grateful for all of your investments and support. My company wouldn’t be where it is without you all. So… I hope you all have a good night, and thanks. Again.”
He finishes with a curt nod, bolting from the stage as the room fills with polite applause. His gaze is locked directly on you, so determined it almost scares you. He doesn’t halt when he makes it to your side, intertwining his fingers with yours and making a beeline for the door with you in tow. 
“Wait, my champagne,” you whine, tossing it down your throat so you can leave the glass on a nearby ledge.
It’s a good thing the guests have mostly resumed their own conversations, hopefully too engrossed to notice. Unfortunately you have no doubt that Teppei notices–Kenma will deal with him eventually. An earful from his manager is worth it.
There’s a taxi five minutes away when Kenma requests it outside of the event building. 
You nuzzle into his neck, no longer so cautious about being modest. You’re just proud of yourself that you managed to not tear his clothes off in front of everyone. 
“You did so good, Ken,” you purr against him, dotting a kiss just above the collar of his shirt.
“Couldn’t have done it without you,” he says with a sly grin that’s barely there.
When the taxi arrives, Kenma helps you into the backseat and follows you inside. His hand settles onto your thigh, seemingly innocent, but the contact spreads a fire through your every muscle. 
When you’re dripping with want, the ride feels like an eternity. You stare out the window the entire time and fiddle with the hem of your dress, an attempt to keep yourself sane until you get home. You wonder if Kenma is struggling the same as you, though you guess the way he dragged you out of his event says everything.
You make it home, finally, after thirty minutes which felt more like three hours. Kenma pays the driver, tips him too, then he walks you back to the house with a hand on your lower back. 
The minute you get inside, your hands cling to the fabric of his blazer, pulling his face to yours–until he stops you. Your face drops, eyebrows pinching together and lips morphing into a pout.
“You can wait until we get to the bedroom,” he says, though in the moment it comes out more gentle than stern.
You huff, pulling your heels off as Kenma makes his way upstairs after already toeing his shoes off. You’re not sure if you’re the impatient one or him right now. 
You tiptoe up the stairs, to your bedroom where Kenma’s sitting on the bed in anticipation. His eyes light up when he sees you again and he beckons you over with a flick of his hand. Your hands become clammy as you pace over to him to stand in between his legs, allowing him to gaze up at you from below.
You look beautiful. Gorgeous. Stunning. Every word that’s synonymous that Kenma can think of–is you. Of course, he thinks these things every single day, whether you’re groggy first thing in the morning or wearing a sheet mask with a cat ear hairband keeping your hair out of your face. But he hardly ever sees you like this. Dressed to the nines, all dolled up with glamour. 
Yours. He has to remind himself. She’s all yours. 
Maybe he’ll hold more company events. He’ll buy you a new dress for every one. Dresses that cling perfectly to your form and sit perfectly against your skin and make him want to melt into you and become one.
Kenma’s hands trace along the curves of your waist as you stand between his knees. He gazes up at you with a softness unlike anything you ever see from him, fingertips moving like he’s touching you for the first time. Unfortunately for him, you’re far too impatient for that. You bend forward, pulling him in by his tie so you can finally mould your gloss-coated lips to his. It’s soft, even as he presses his tongue into your mouth and tastes the lingering champagne you’d been drinking earlier. Already your knees weaken. Your entire face grows warm. His kisses are always overflowing with the affection he can’t tell you through words.
Your hands move of their own accord when you start to undress him. First, you push his blazer over his shoulders, helping him shrug it off before it lands on the hardwood. You’re crawling over him, kissing him with growing fervour, urging him back against the bed as your fingers make work of the tie you had tied for him and then the buttons of his shirt. As soon as his shirt is out of the way, your palms meet his smooth torso, sliding all the way up his chest until you’re clinging to his shoulders.
In return, Kenma’s lithe hands find the zipper of your dress, pulling it down gently, dragging the straps down your arms. You stand, letting the too-expensive garment fall until it pools around your feet. Kenma sits up, reaching behind you once more so he can unhook your strapless bra. 
With your breasts exposed, Kenma’s gaze burns into you. It’s amazing how, even after years of being with him, you still crumble. It doesn’t help that his eyes are so revealing. There’s hunger in the way he takes you in, drinks you up until he’s intoxicated– he hasn’t even got to feel you yet. Lust swims in pools of gold, so overwhelming that you want to shrink, but then your chest swells with pure confidence. You have a man staring at you like you’re a deity, like he wants to give you the world (he would).
He tugs you gently by your wrist and you let yourself tumble towards the bed, where immediately Kenma props himself above you and his lips ambush your neck. You gasp as your lower belly erupts into tingles just from the way he licks and suckles softly at your skin, his lips soft and warm, each kiss telling you the same thing. 
You jolt when his fingertips press against your cunt through your panties. He draws slow circles, but not to tease–he’ll work you up, nice and gradual, until you’re utterly dripping for him. Every motion of the pads of his fingers is deliberate, practised and perfected through all the years he’s had the chance to worship you. He’s adapted–evolved, even–to your body, becoming an expert in the things that make you writhe. 
“Kenma…” you sigh while his mouth nibbles on your collarbone. And just like that, his fingers dip past the band of your panties, because for some reason tonight he’d rather die than not give you exactly what you want. Most nights he’s mean and relentless, refusing to give into your sweet pout and your wet, teary eyes, getting hard to the sound of your desperate, needy pleas like a sadist (and that’s a conversation he’s been thinking about how to bring up). Tonight, though, he’s giving you everything you want. 
He touches your clit, pressing down as he rubs it in circles, still taking his time despite how his body is screaming for him to pin you down and stimulate you until you’re crying his name. He drags his fingertips through your silky folds, along your slit, grinning against your skin when he finds that you’re utterly drenched. It’s only ever been him that can make you wet this effortlessly, but it makes sense when everything he’s learned, he’s learned from you. 
Kenma never cared enough about having a partner–too preoccupied with his hobbies–until you came along and decided to worm your way into every aspect of his life. Not that he would have stopped you, anyway. Being his first for everything meant that he never had to question “will she like this?” or “will she hate it?”, only you telling him precisely what you wanted him to do with you, and him doing that, and going beyond it too.
Kenma smears your slick all over your cunt and your entire faces grows hot because he’s so fucking lewd. He rubs it a few more times, then sinks two of his fingers into your hole and curls them up until he finds the sweet spot that has you moaning for him. At the same time, his lips latch onto one of your nipples and his free hand reaches up to squeeze your other breast, and already you think you’re starting to lose your grip on your sanity.
You hum as Kenma’s fingers glide in and out of your entrance. He’s patient, uncharacteristically so, dragging his digits along your walls like he’s only greeting them.
“More,” you keen, twisting your hand into the sheets below you. Heat pools in your belly, and though it’s hardly more than a flicker so far, you’re desperate. “Please, wanna cum…”
He pulls off your hardened nipple to scoff at you, but it’s far from genuine hostility. 
“Stop being pushy,” he says, and for a moment his mouth twitches with a grin before he wraps his lips around the bud again.
You can only respond with a moan as he pushes his fingers back inside you, all the way until he’s knuckle-deep in your pussy this time and it’s so good that you give a long, airy whine. Your noises as he continues open you up on his fingers are so cute, he thinks. Sweet, honeyed moans that shoot straight down to his cock. He’s been hard for a while now, probably as soon as he stepped foot inside the front door, and since then his need has been building and building, and all he can think is how dizzying it’ll be when he can finally sink into the warmth of your cunt.
You’re practically dripping down Kenma’s wrist. Every push and pull of his fingers hits the perfect spot over and over, your toes curling and your fists clenching where they’re buried in the sheets. Arousal drools from your hole, slick, wet noises filling the air from your boyfriend’s ministrations. His lips smack as he sucks on your tits, watching them jiggle like a sick man every time pulls off one with a wet pop. He doesn’t even realise he’s moaning. It’s so quiet that it’s barely audible over the sound of your pussy, but the vibrations travel from the back of his throat to your skin as he licks and nibbles on you.
Feeling the way your pussy clenches around his digits, Kenma picks up the pace, shifting his position and now his cock, achingly hard, is pressed against your thigh. He’s flicking his wrist so brutally now that his entire arm moves and your body moves with it against his chest. 
“R-right there, Kenma!” You’re panting, your hips bucking greedily in search of even more stimulation–all you need is a little more. “Please, I’m gonna cum,” you whine, unashamed in your begging. 
“Yeah? All for me?” Kenma mutters, nuzzling his nose into your neck so he can nip at your skin again–he knows it drives you wild, and it does. 
Within seconds, your pussy’s pulsing around Kenma’s fingers and a long moan pulls itself from your throat. Your muscles turn taut, your orgasm washing over you in ebbs that make your legs tremble.
“Pretty,” he remarks, pulling his fingers out slowly to rub your swollen clit. Then he brings them to your lips which part instinctively, and they wrap around them, and you suck. He presses down on your tongue, glazed eyes piercing into your dazed and shiny ones as he watches you swallow the taste of yourself.
“So pretty,” he reaffirms, then slides his digits out of your mouth and leans in to press his lips to yours. His tongue licks into your mouth, lapping up whatever is left behind because he’s parched and he’s selfish and he’s desperate to get a taste of you too. 
Despite how your body is still limp and recovering from your first climax, you paw at Kenma’s crotch, shoving against him until he’s leaned back on his elbows and you’re the one who’s above him. 
Now that you can see his face, you find that his cheeks are the prettiest shade of pink and his lips are glossy and a little puffy. 
“Can I suck your dick, please?” you ask with your hand already halfway down his dress pants.
Kenma chuckles, low and sexy. He brings his hand to your burning cheek and strokes a thumb over your wet lips. He’s not thinking anything, just… admiring. Mine–that’s all he’s thinking. His cock jumps as you palm him through his boxers. In an instant he melts, not just from your touch, but from how pliant you are, how politely you asked him as though you even need permission, as though he wouldn’t destroy the planet just to feel your lips around his dick.
“Go ahead, baby,” he says with the last shred of control he has of his voice. After this, he’ll be a goner. 
You scurry to pull his pants and boxers down his legs, letting him shuck them off while your hand wraps around his blushing cock. It’s enough to make his abdomen clench, though he’s always been sensitive. Your thumb grazes his slit where beads of precum ooze out and he hisses when you smear it down his length, gazing at him through your eyelashes as you start to pump your hand up and down. Leaning forward, you let a drop of spit dribble onto him, revelling in the way he throbs against your hand.
Your mouth starts to water at your boyfriend’s pretty, slicked-up cock. You think you’ve both had enough of your teasing, so you’re bending forward to drag your tongue from his base all the way to his swollen tip, flicking your tongue over the mushroom head. It’s all for show–one he doesn’t really even need right now seeing as he’s already two seconds away from releasing all over your face.
There’s a devious gleam in your eyes when you wrap your lips around him, sucking on the tip just a little. He’s gasping, fingers flying to the roots of your hair, and excitement boils inside you. 
Your hand pumps him up and down at his base, over the tiny veins that decorate his length. Slowly your mouth works more and more of him every time you bob your head. Tears brim your eyes when you have the entirety of his cock shoved down your throat, eyes blurring with every movement.
Kenma is still, watching you take him down your little throat despite how much it resists, despite how you near-gag each time, despite how it cuts off your oxygen. He reaches forward, swiping his thumb at the corner of your mouth where a mixture of your saliva and his precum drools. He doesn’t realise he’s got his bottom lip tucked between his teeth and a dazed look in his eyes. All he knows is he’d do anything for you.
Kenma tosses his head back. He thinks if he keeps looking at you he’ll just blow–not yet, he can’t. He hasn’t even gotten to feel your pussy yet. He scrunches his eyes shut, taking steady breaths, until all that his mind can comprehend is the way your hot, slippery mouth wraps around his sensitive dick.
The ceiling above him spins as his cock bumps the back of your throat. Heat boils in your own belly, your eyes flicking up to catch his Adam's apple bobbing, one of his hands fisting into the sheets while the other tangles into your hair. His hips rut into your mouth absentmindedly, in tandem with your own as you search for stimulation again.
His thighs sting when your nails sink into his skin, shooting pinpricks of pleasure to his throbbing cock and he gasps. Any longer and it’s over, so he steadily pulls you off him by the roots of your hair, mesmerised by the webs of spit and precum that follow your lips as he does.
“I wanna be inside you now,” he says, a near growl that makes you shiver because it almost doesn’t sound like him. He tugs your face in towards his and kisses you with hunger, fingertips digging into your scalp as he holds you in place by your head.
You moan into his mouth, your entire body hot with desire. “Want you to fuck me, Kenma.”
He pulls away from your mouth fully, yanking your head back just an inch but it’s enough to make you yelp. He makes sure you’re staring straight into his eyes. Wants you to see how they’re darkening. You shudder under his stare, heart pounding, like you’ve done something wrong–you have. Forgotten a singular syllable.
“Please, Kenma. Fuck me, please.”
He gives a small, satisfied huff, pressing his lips to yours again for a fleeting moment–‘good job’. Kenma leans back then, sprawls himself out against the pillows at the top of the bed and pats his thighs.
“Come ‘ere,” he says, softly. You crawl over and settle yourself into his lap, his arms looping around your waist immediately as your crotch grinds against him. 
Impatient, you reach between your sweat-slicked bodies to wrap your hand around his cock. Kenma dips his head to your chest, pressing wet kisses to your skin as you arch your back a little and guide him to your entrance, sighing when you start to sink down on him. He gives a tiny groan from the back of his throat as your pussy swallows him, inch by inch, until finally he’s fully seated inside you.
Your nails dig into his shoulder blades, your walls clamping around him and adjusting to the stretch. Being filled with him like this always knocks the breath out of you, makes you hungry for more and neither of you have even moved yet. It’s then that you shimmy your hips slightly and, in one fluid motion, rise up and drop back down in his lap. 
“Fuck,” he pants, barely audible.
“Feels so good,” you hum, grinding your hips against him steadily, revelling in the way he pulses against your soft walls. 
With your arms wrapped around one another, you quickly start to lose yourself. Your brain turns foggy, and all you know is your boyfriend’s flesh meeting yours, his length pressing deep into you and grazing everything sensitive. Your soft, whimpering noises are out of your control, and they’re music to Kenma’s ears.
His mouth lands on your chest, his puffy lips pressing soft kisses to your tits before he sinks his teeth into your skin ever so gently. A laugh bubbles in your throat, one that’s simultaneously half a moan.
“What?” he whispers, ghosting his fingers along your spine.
“You never let me do that,” you pout, thighs beginning to burn as you continue to bounce up and down in your boyfriend’s lap. You’re struggling to keep up the pace, clinging to Kenma a little harder with each plunge.
“You’re so annoying,” he says, strained, but when you look at his face his eyes are clouded over with affection. 
You’re about to tease him again, but the next second, Kenma grasps you by your waist and flips you onto your back, all while staying seated inside you. In an instant your legs hook around his torso and he’s slamming his twitching cock into your cunt with abandon. 
For a moment your mind blanks from the suddenness of it all. Kenma grazes the spot deep inside you that makes your back curve off the mattress, your chest pressing up against his and your legs tightening around his waist like letting go of him would mean death.
Your hands snake around the back of his neck, just holding him. His irises are brimming with everything–awe, tenderness, love.
He loves you. He’s not sure about a lot of things, but that’s the one thing he is sure of. 
Kenma’s not just fucking you anymore. He’s connected with you, falling into you further and further with every thrust. And he’s indulging–when a soft, high moan leaves his mouth, he doesn’t stop it.
He rests his forehead against yours, hips still meeting yours with a small smack each time. His breath mingles together with yours, and for a moment he feels your soul touch his. 
“Kenma…” you sigh, eyes brimming with tears as you grow desperate for release. The fire deep in your core burns so intensely, the heat spreading to your fingertips. 
“I know,” he says, voice cracking as your walls clamp down on him, begging him to go deeper, pleading with him for more.
He obliges, angling his hips in a way that lets his cock drag against where you’re most sensitive, and that’s when you cry out. Kenma watches your eyes roll back, gazes at you as your face morphs into bliss, feels the hot pulsing of your cunt around him as you finally reach your climax.
Kenma’s thrusts stutter just a little from the sudden tightness of your walls, then your nails are dragging down his smooth back and he’s giving another obscene moan, one that turns his cheeks red. He drops to his elbows, still above you but now his head makes his home by the shell of your ear.
The breathy groans and whines he lets out send shivers down your spine, and that’s when you know he’s gone. He’s completely engulfed in pleasure, desperately chasing release. He groans your name out in a near-chant, and you reach up to rake your nails along his scalp at the nape of his neck–one of his weak spots.
“Fuck… fuck,” he sighs, voice breathy, his cock ramming relentlessly against your cervix. He’s abandoned all semblance of tenderness now, overtaken by a hungry, selfish urge. It’s contagious too, seeping from his skin into yours, leaving you aching to be filled up.
“Cum for me, Kenma?” you whimper over his ragged breathing, tugging at the roots of his hair. “Wanna feel you..”
“Y-yes, oh God,” he groans. “Gonna give you all of it, gonna make you all mine.”
Then with a few more trusts of his hips and a strained moan, he lets go inside you, warmth blooming through you with every spurt that dribbles into you. His pelvis is pushed flush against yours as he burrows himself as deep as he can inside you, like he’s trying to combine your bodies together. His teeth clamp down on your shoulder, a little harder than usual, as he ruts his twitching cock into you until he’s too sensitive to move. 
Only a moment passes before Kenma reaches up to press his lips to yours. It’s so soft that each of you barely moves your lips, satisfied with just the sensation of one another. 
“I love you,” you murmur into his skin. 
“Love you,” he replies, words that are few and far between for Kenma, but when they come, you believe him with every fibre that’s in you.
Slowly he pulls out of you, both of you wincing, you at the emptiness and him at the loss of warmth. The sticky fluid that oozes out of you is a problem for later. Now, you’re both craving the same thing–to be tangled together. Kenma shifts to your side, still close, still searching for contact when his arm wraps around your waist and he buries his face into your hair and breathes in your scent. 
There’s a buzz from the night stand–Kenma’s phone, more specifically. 
“Could you grab it?” he asks. You do. And when you pick up his phone, the screen is lit up with a single text from his manager Teppei:
‘We need a word.’
You burst into laughter. Kenma’s grinning. He can’t find it in him to be bothered by it. He’s too busy thinking about what kind of ring he should get you.
dedicated to my hot sexy betas @ushiwhacka and @tetsutits <3
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ineedhaikyu · 25 days
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Chapter Two
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Summary: Inarizaki vs Karasuno. Foxes vs Crows. A match between two powerhouses competing for the next slot in Nationals and while tensions were high, Karasuno’s ace couldn’t help but look forward to the upcoming match. Or rather he was looking forward to seeing her.
Word Count: 8.9K
Warnings: A long fic with a huge amount of fluff! Once again Asahi's anxiety will be mentioned. Conversations are prolonged between reader and Asahi in order to establish a well-meaning relationship. Brief description of reader's hair.
A/N: PART 2 to Glass-Hearted Ace!! A lot of people wanted a continuation so here it is!! I had so much fun writing this because I absolutely love the adorable craziness that goes on in Haikyu as well as spreading more love to our gentle giant. Let's keep spreading our Asahi love!!
Part 1
~
3rd POV
Day 2 of Nationals. The second round has already begun with the first match of the day. It wouldn't be long for the next match to start. Karasuno vs Inarizaki. The atmosphere was filled with the same energy of anticipation and eagerness just as it was the other day though multiplied by a hundred.
As this was her third and final year in participating in the Spring Tournament, (L/N) (Y/N) felt confident enough to say she was calm and collected. (Y/N) smiled to herself when she compared her younger first-year self to now. Back then, she was such a nervous wreck. Always getting lost on her way to the restroom or the time she followed the wrong team to the WRONG gym. (It wasn’t her fault that the team wore the same maroon jackets. Good thing that happened in her first year otherwise Suna and the Miya twins would never live it down.)
(Y/N) shook those thoughts away and continued her way to the gym where her team was preparing for their match. She was only gone for a few minutes as she had to fill up the water bottles, but knowing the second-years (Y/N) knew it was only a matter of time before something happened. Luckily, the Karasuno volleyball team hadn't arrived yet when she left but perhaps they have already.
The familiar warm feeling returned at the thought of seeing Karasuno’s team. More specifically the team’s ace. Azumane Asahi. The same guy that caught her eye when he played volleyball. The same guy she met yesterday who saved her from getting hurt. The same guy that made her believe in the lyrics of all those love songs.
(Y/N) wanted to say she was a good judge of character and she had a good feeling about Asahi.
A sweet guy, every bit of a gentleman. Very cute too. Every time his soft brown eyes met with hers, she swore it reminded her of a cute puppy. His smile didn’t bring a few butterflies in her stomach… No. They brought a swarm. Each flap of their metaphorical wings gave her the shivers but the grin on her lips never left when she was with him. Even his hair played a part of her enchantment on him. It’s not often to see guys with long hair, but Asahi pulled it off amazingly well especially when he has it in a man bun. Despite his tough guy appearance, Asahi was a gentle giant with a glass heart. In the little time she knew him, (Y/N) hoped she was able to help him realize his self-worth.
God. It hasn’t been 24 hours and not once has Asahi left her mind. They texted each other last night for almost two hours. The conversation between them flowed so easily. Just like before, (Y/N) enjoyed talking to him. Not once had he made her uncomfortable. Quite the opposite actually.
The next morning she woke up early enough to do research on Karasuno’s team. While Inarizaki’s motto was: we don’t need the memories, (Y/N) couldn’t help but see how Karasuno was like from their past matches. They’re different from any other teams they’ve competed against. Besides, it was nice matching names with faces. Luckily, someone made ‘I’m Awesome’ videos of Karasuno’s starting lineup. She’ll admit whoever made these videos was good as they depicted amazing receives to jaw-dropping spikes.
She recognized Daichi, Suga, and Asahi immediately. Their libero, Nishinoya Yū, looked high caliber and so was their setter. She’ll keep her opinions to herself on Kageyama; she didn’t need Atsumu hearing her say that. They’ll have to keep a lookout on Karasuno’s #10, Hinata Shoyo. He’s on the short side considering he’s a middle blocker but judging by the video, the first-year is full of surprises.
Then again, the Inarizaki volleyball team has a few tricks up their sleeves too.
“Ah. Look, it's her!”
“(Y/N)- senpai!”
“Over here!”
The said manager snapped back to reality and was confronted by the usual crowd of fans in front of her. Inarizaki always show their pride with each event but with volleyball, they took it to another level. Then it doubled with the arrival of the Miya twins. Their popularity soared to new heights and as a result the marching band, cheerleaders, and several students took part in Nationals. Both a blessing and a curse.
The curse part? Well, as much as she loved her school’s support, the fangirls… Well…
“(Y/N)-senpai! Can you give this to Atsumu?!”
“Oh, please give these chocolates to Osamu! I made them last night!”
“(Y/N), is there any way I can get a picture with Suna? Please!”
Yeah… This was pretty much the usual for her but this time it was going too far. Girls ranging from first-years to third-years were blocking the entrance to the gym. She recognized some as fellow classmates but others she was almost positive they came from other schools. And they were all trying to catch a glimpse of their favorite player.
Despite the hectic scene in front of her, there were two girls that caught her attention.
One of them looked the same age as her with beautiful black hair that reached her shoulders and fair skin complexion except for the beauty mark underneath her lower lip. Her gray eyes seemed to sparkle behind her thin framed glasses. The other girl looked visibly younger with her petite frame and blonde hair that was styled with a star hair clip. Right away (Y/N) knew that the girl was a first-year. She could see the way the girl was trembling at the sight of the crowd.
They didn’t look like they were a part of the crowd, but they did look troubled. That’s when she noticed they were carrying water bottle carriers just like her. They must be the Karasuno team’s managers. In the spirit of good sportsmanship, (Y/N) decided to go talk to them.
The older girl noticed her first. She stepped in front of the blonde girl as if shielding her. (Y/N) didn’t let that get to her. Instead, she smiled and introduced herself.
“Hi. I’m (L/N) (Y/N). I’m the manager for the Inarizaki team. Are you two the managers for Karasuno?”
The two girls glanced at one another before nodding in unison.
“My name is Shimizu Kiyoko. Third-year.”
“I-I’m Y-Yachi H-Hitoka! F-First-year m-manager! I-It’s very n-nice t-to m-meet y-you!”
“Hey, there. No need to be scared of me. I’m just a manager, just like you.” (Y/N) tried her best to console the first-year’s anxious nature. It was almost like deja-vu with Asahi. “Are you excited for today?”
Kiyoko nodded, finally feeling at ease with her. “The team has worked hard to get to this point.”
“I couldn’t sleep last night because I was so nervous!” Hitoka added while trying to fan herself in order to cool down her face. “But the team is excited to play against the team that placed second place in the last Interhigh!”
(Y/N) raised an eyebrow. “You’ve done your research. I’m impressed. But don’t worry, we still have some tricks under our sleeves. We know we’re up against a great team.”
The Karasuno managers felt the same warm feeling coursing underneath their skin at the compliment.
“Does that mean you’ve done research on our team?” Kiyoko asked.
(Y/N) nodded. “Of course. I like to be prepared.” Her cheeks began to warm up when she thought of Karasuno’s ace. “You two have impressive players on the team. Are they in the gym?”
“Yes. They’re practicing right now. We went to get some water for the match when this happened.” Kiyoko gestured to the sea of girls in front of them.
“We tried to get through but they’re scary!” Hitoka was practically shaking in her shoes. “The first match is already playing their second set.”
“Man! I swear time flies around here. Come on, I’ll help you through.” (Y/N) gestured to the girls to follow her. “We can’t let our teams forget us.”
“Are you sure?” Kiyoko asked her. “We can find another way.”
(Y/N) shook her head and gave them a carefree grin. “This is the best way into the gym. Trust me, I’ll get us in there.”
“W-Why a-are you h-helping us?” Hitoka stuttered out. “A-Aren’t you scared of them?”
“Well us managers have to stick together, right? And trust me, after dealing with the Miya twins for a year, these girls don’t scare me.”
Taking her word for it, the pair of Karasuno managers followed her. As expected the crowd of girls showed no sign of parting, in fact, it has grown in number. Kiyoko and Hitoka were waiting for (Y/N) to politely ask the girls to move aside, like they did before, but the Inarizaki manager did something quite unexpected.
(Y/N) looked over her shoulder and smiled, “Cover your ears.”
The girls obeyed. Lucky for them. Unlucky for the fangirls.
Because (Y/N) let out the loudest whistle anyone had ever heard. A series of groans and shrieks were heard from the fangirls. Then they all had turned to face the managers.
“(Y/N)-senpai? What was that for?!” One of the fangirls that she recognized as an underclassman.
“Oh, come on guys. I warned everyone last time this would happen.” The manager told them, not an ounce of fear in her voice as she addressed the crowd.
“B-But we just want to see the twins practice!” A girl holding a hand fan with the words ‘Miya Twins’ on it. “We aren’t doing anything wrong.”
“The boys need to warm up. You’ll see them on the court. Do yourselves a favor and find good seats to watch and cheer from.”
“Aww but (Y/N)!” They complained.
“You guys know the rules. Now, please, let me and my friends,” She stepped aside to reveal her new manager friends, “get into the gym. We need to do our jobs as managers. Don’t make me tell Kita-san and have him ban all of you from watching practice matches in the future.”
At the mention of the serious captain and under the threat of closed practices, the fangirls dispersed quickly. Some had the sense to apologize and others wished them good fortune on the upcoming match.
“W-Wow.” Hitoka said in awe. “You knew exactly what to do. That’s amazing.”
Kiyoko agreed before asking, “Does this happen a lot?”
(Y/N) let out an embarrassed chuckle. “Yeah… They’re big fans of the team and they mean well but sometimes their excitement can take it too far. As Inarizaki’s manager, sometimes I feel responsible for their behavior.” She bowed her head and continued on. “I apologize on their behalf for any trouble they may have caused you two.”
The youngest manager out of the three was speechless at the older girl’s sincere words in her apology. They’ve only known the Inarizaki manager for like ten minutes but she proved herself to them that she’s a kindhearted yet self-assured person. One look at her senpai and Yachi knew that they were thinking the same thing.
What Yachi didn’t know, Shimizu was smiling for a different reason. Yesterday, she accidentally overheard her fellow third-years talking. She didn’t mean to listen in and she was about to leave when the topic of the conversation caught her attention. Apparently, a girl caught her friend Asahi’s eye. A girl from the Inarizaki team that, according to Suga, sounded like the perfect girl for her anxious friend. So when the girl’s name came up, (Y/N), Shimizu wanted to see for herself what the girl was like.
Now that she has, Shimizu can see how and why Asahi would fall for her.
“Don’t apologize,” Kiyoko finally spoke up and offered the girl a kind smile. “Sometimes, these things happen.”
“You sure? I mean, this might happen again when we have to go into the main gym. There are some fans of the Miya twins that can be a bit… Fierce. If you want, I can help out. It’s no trouble at all.”
Kiyoko shook her head. “It’s okay, (Y/N). We can handle it. Right, Hitoka-chan?”
The first-year nodded eagerly. “Yeah! We’ll be okay. The guys on our team can be scary too. Ah! I need to tell the team that the first match is already in the second set. It was very nice to meet you!”
The third-year managers watched in amusement as she scurried into the gym. (Y/N) smiled before facing Kiyoko. She offered her hand for a handshake and said, “I know it’s customary for players to shake hands before and after the match, but I do it too with the managers. Let’s have a good game.”
Kiyoko took her hand and squeezed. “May the best team win. No hard feelings, right?”
(Y/N) laughed and nodded. “I like you, Shimizu, but yeah, no hard feelings at all.”
“Please call me Kiyoko.”
~Meanwhile inside the gym, ten minutes earlier~
‘Where is she?’ Asahi thought as his eyes searched the other side of the court. ‘Is she hiding from me? Did he say something that scared her away? What if he creeped her out last night when they texted each other?’
“Yo Asahi!” Suga’s energetic voice scared him back to reality. “Are you looking for someone?”
He didn’t miss his friend’s teasing tone that laced his words nor the way his eyes shined in amusement. Leave it to Suga to tease the hell out of him. Last night, for example, was too much. Even after he told his friends about his time with the Inarizaki manager, Suga still wanted to know everything, down to the last detail. Luckily, Daichi took pity on him and reeled Suga back on a somewhat normal level of interrogation.
But that didn’t mean he was going to drop the subject completely.
“I can’t find (Y/N).” He admitted to his friend. “Have you seen her?”
“Hmm. Not yet. But I wouldn’t worry too much. Her team’s here so I’m sure she’s somewhere around here. She’s their manager after all.” Suga clapped his shoulder. “But if you really want to know where (Y/N) is, why don’t you go ask her teammates?”
Suga pointed to the nearby Inarizaki members that were practicing their spikes. He recognized the Miya twins and Inarizaki’s ace, Ojiro Aran. And while he saw how they played from previous matches last night, it didn’t ease the anxiety clawing its way around his heart. It also didn’t help when one of the wing spikers turned the set into a powerful spike. The impact of the ball being slammed to the floor echoed throughout the gym.
Just the very action scared Suga’s suggestion out the window. There was no way he was going over there and ask about their manager! If they were anything like Tanaka or Nishinoya, then he’ll be ripped to shreds.
“N-No way!” He stuttered out a reply and waved his hands in front of him. The slight blush on his face was becoming more visible by each second. “But I’m worried. What if something happened to her?”
“Her who?” Daichi asked as he came up from behind them. “What’s going on?”
Suga answered before he could. “Well, our dear old ace here, is worried that his crush is somewhere out there dying without him knowing. And he’s too scared to ask her friends where she is.”
Karasuno’s captain chuckled and patted Asahi on the back. “Quit worrying. I know you saved her yesterday, but this isn’t a little girl you’re talking about. She can hold her own. After all, this isn’t her first time here in Nationals.”
“See, Asahi?” Suga, clearly amused by this whole conversation, told him. “There’s nothing to worry about. I wouldn’t be surprised if she walked through those gym doors right now.”
He pointed to the entrance and they followed it only to see a swarm of girls trying to catch a glimpse inside the gym.
“You mean those doors?” He asked his friend. “They look ready to burst in here.”
“Who are they?” Daichi asking the question everyone was wondering.
“Judging by the hand fans, I think they’re fans of the Miya twins. They must be really popular to have this many. That’s annoying.” Suga muttered the last part with a pout.
“Can anyone get through?” Asahi wondered as he avoided eye contact with the girls. Something about them unnerved him somehow even if they wore bright smiles and loud cheers. “They look vicious.”
“They’re fans, not witches.” Daichi stated. “I’m sure they’re nice. After all, they're showing their support to their team.”
“Let it go, Daichi. Asahi is only like this because he misses his dream girl.” Suga jested. “He’s going into withdrawal.”
“I was just hoping to see her. She texted me-”
“Woah! Woah! Texted?! When did this happen?” asked Suga, his eyes wide with this new information. “You’re at the texting-each-other stage?!”
“Was that who you were texting last night?” Daichi asked him.
“What?!” Suga exclaimed. “Daichi, why didn’t you tell me?”
“You were asleep and I was tired.” The captain defended. “And it isn’t my business who Asahi texts. He’s old enough to make his own decisions… That being said, what did you guys talk about?”
“You didn’t tell her our secret weapons, did you?” Suga whispered his question, referring to all the tricks they perfected in the past few months.
“(Y/N) isn’t like that, Suga. She didn’t squeeze any information out of me. We picked up where we left off and talked about normal stuff. We thought it was better than to talk about the match between our schools.”
“And what did you guys text about?” The vice captain pressed, eager to know more.
For some reason, Asahi couldn’t help but recall how he initiated the conversation with the pretty manager from Inarizaki. Actually it was more like he couldn’t believe he was texting with (Y/N) last night. It felt unreal, like a dream. After reading her note, he remembered how hard his heart was beating and how warm his cheeks grew.
Ever since she mentioned it in her note, admitting how he made her nervous, Asahi took some comfort that he can do the same to her and vice versa.
Though, she did prove herself to be bravely spontaneous when she wrote the note and after texting with her last night, he hoped he could do the same. One of his many concerns since starting high school was that girls in his class were always disappointed after finding out his timid personality didn’t match his physical appearance. He’ll never forget the time when one of the girls called him a wuss. It was years ago but the girl’s remark was like a stab wound in the back. It healed over time but it still made its mark on his self-image.
Luckily, (Y/N) wasn’t like any of the girls in his class. She’s so kind when she bought him a shirt as a gift. She’s so understanding when she patiently listened to his problems. She showed compassion when she offered some advice to help ease the anxiety that almost suffocated him. Then there was that beautiful confidence she had in herself. He liked that about her and while he just met (Y/N) yesterday, he wanted to prove to her that he can be confident too.
That’s why he’s been looking for her. He wanted to be the first to greet her. It might not seem like a big deal to others, but it was to him.
‘Baby steps,’ He thought when he was second-guessing himself. ‘What was that saying? Rome wasn’t built in a day. Well, that applies here too. Bit by bit, confidence will grow.’
“Asahi? Earth to ace?”
“Huh?”
“You zoned out there for a second.” A smirk appeared on Suga’s face. “Must be quite a conversation you had with her. Wouldn’t you say Daichi?”
It was always nerve-wracking to have both Daichi and Suga tease him. So it wouldn’t be a surprise if the captain joined in on the teasing. But to his surprise, Daichi clapped him on the back causing him to huff a bit under his breath.
“Well, I think (Y/N) is the kind of girl that can make our dear ace invincible. Make sure to show what you’re made of during this match.”
“Yeah!” Suga encouraged, his hand clapping the ace’s free shoulder. “Let her see how awesome you are on the court.”
“No pressure or anything.” Daichi added, his smile matching Suga’s teasing grin.
“None at all!” Suga piped in. “Just remember she’ll be watching you when it’s your turn to serve. Don’t mess up!”
“You guys aren’t helping!” He yelled at his friends. His face burned in embarrassment.
Daichi and Suga laughed but before anyone could say another word that could cause further humiliation for the ace, Asahi’s saving grace came in the form of their first-year manager running into the gym. He thanked whatever deity who was watching over this episode that spared him from further teasing from his friends.
“The first match is in the middle of their second set.” Hitoka informed them.
Daichi nodded and clapped his hands together. In a loud voice, he announced, “Alright, guys. Let’s get into our uniforms.”
Following the captain's orders, Asahi grabbed his alternate orange jersey and placed it over a nearby chair. He looked across the gym and saw the Inarizaki players putting on their uniforms as well. Still no sign of (Y/N).
“Hitoka-chan, wasn’t Shimizu with you?” Suga asked.
The first-year nodded. “We made a new friend just now. She helped us out when we couldn’t get into the gym. I think she’s still talking to her by the doors.”
Asahi tuned out their conversation as he took off his shirt. In his head, he had to concentrate on calming down his nerves. The scariest moments of his life played like an endless nightmare. Like the time when he was a kid and he had to show his parents the bad grade on his report card. Or the time he wanted to pet the neighbor’s puppy but ended up getting chased by the puppy’s mother. Or how Date Tech’s iron wall blocked every single spike; shaking him to the core so much that he temporarily stopped playing volleyball.
The whirlpool of anxiety and dread arrived on schedule in his stomach. Was it getting harder to breathe? Was the air getting warmer? Or was he getting colder? Yeah, no. He was definitely getting colder. His hands felt like a block of ice. Was he this nervous during the Shiratorizawa match? Probably. He made a mental note to trace 人 on his hand, hoping it was enough to settle down his nerves.
He threw his jersey on and was just about to fix his loose hair strands when he heard a familiar laugh coming from the entrance. He looked up to see Kiyoko laughing along with another girl. It was only a glance, a quick one, when he did a double take. He couldn’t believe it.
(L/N) (Y/N), the girl that caused his brain cells to go on a roller coaster ride, was standing there in all her beauty.
She was having a conversation with Kiyoko and by the looks of it, she must have said something funny because it made his usual shy and quiet manager laugh a little. Now he was 100% convinced that (Y/N) had a natural aura that eased people on friendly terms if she was able to hold an amiable conversation with Kiyoko.
Not to mention her smile that complimented her eyes that seemed to shine in excitement. Or how her hair was styled a bit different from yesterday. This time her hair was pinned back from her face with two small side braids connected together where it fell in rhythm with the rest of her hair. It looked cute on her, lovely even. Should he mention that to her or would that be too weird?
SLAP!
“Ow!” Asahi turned around to find the culprit who slapped the (for lack of a better word) living shit onto his back. Nishinoya didn’t have an ounce of shame or regret in his eyes. Quite the opposite actually as the libero was smiling ear to ear. “Nishinoya? What was that for?”
With no remorse, the second-year player ignored the question and asked several of his own. “That’s her, right? The Inarizaki manager? The one who’s talking to Kiyoko-san? The girl you like?”
He could feel his ears begin to burn. “H-How did you know?”
“That’s not important.”
Asahi begged to differ as he thought it made a world of difference now that Nishinoya knows about his crush.
With his arms crossed in front of his chest, the libero continued, “What are you doing standing here? Go over there and talk to her! Be a man!”
“I-It’s not that simple. I need to build myself up before I talk to her. And then I need to think of a topic that we can talk about. Then what type of questions I should ask-”
“Oh come on Asahi! You have to stop acting like a cowardly wimp. Man up and go! She’s right there!”
“J-Just give me a second and I will.”
Nishinoya was just about to retort back when he realized something. This was the first time Asahi was nervous, visibly and mentally, for a girl. Well, scratch that. Asahi was always nervous around girls but this was the first time he seemed to actively try to impress someone. Like the way he repeatedly made sure his jersey was tucked in, double-knotted his shoelaces, and double-checked his hair was safely tied in his usual bun.
So he did what any good friend would do. “You look great, Asahi.”
With a glimmer of hope in his eyes, the ace stood up straight. “You think so?”
“Personally, I don’t care about what other people think about my looks.”
Asahi physically deflated at those words. If only he could borrow some of his friend’s confidence.
“But then again I’m awesome.”
The ace couldn’t argue with that one. But before he could wallow in a pool of anxiety and dread, the libero’s next words saved him from drowning. Along with a strong slap on the shoulder that could echo throughout the gym.
“You’re awesome too. You’re the ace of our team. Take pride in that.”
Asahi took his friend’s words to heart as he stood up a bit straighter. He glanced up to look at (Y/N) who looked breathtaking while wearing her maroon Inarizaki jacket. If only she wore a black Karasuno jacket… He could just imagine the alternate dimension where she could have been a classmate, a close friend, or even something more.
“I… I don’t want to mess this up, Noya.”
Concerned, Nishinoya asked, “How would you mess up?”
“I don’t know! Anything could happen. With my luck, I could trip over myself in front of her. I want to be confident and go over to her and say hi-””
“Alright. Then let’s go.”
Asahi’s mind froze. “What?”
“You heard me. Let’s do what you said and walk up to your girlfriend-”
“She’s not my girlfriend!”
Nishinoya rolled his eyes but the grin on his face showed no sign of leaving. “Fine. The girl you wish to be your girlfriend. We’ll go together. You’ll say hi and introduce me to her because I want to know what kind of girl makes you act this way.”
Asahi could feel his face turning red. “Okay, let’s go. But please don’t say anything embarrassing. Daichi and Suga did enough of that yesterday.”
His friend laughed loudly before slapping his shoulder. “You really need to grow a backbone off the court, especially if you want to impress your crush. But don’t worry, I have your back.”
~
(Y/N) felt as if she met her long-lost sister through Karasuno’s manager. Kiyoko definitely could relate to the ups and downs that comes with managing a group of boys (especially rowdy second-years). But she admired her commitment. Being a third-year, specifically attending Nationals, it was their last chance to help their respective team to make it to the top.
“So, how are you feeling about being here?” She asked as they sat down on a nearby bench. They still had time before the ongoing match ended. Why not take the opportunity and spend time with her new friend?
“It’s unreal. Sometimes it feels like a dream. A lot of people doubted us since we were a forgotten powerhouse. We were devastated when we lost in the third round of the Interhigh to Aoba Johsai. Our only chance to get to Nationals was to win all our matches.”
“Woah, I can only imagine the pressure your team had on their shoulders. More so on the third-years.” She took a chance to look for Asahi. Her eyes automatically found him and she couldn’t help but smile. It looked like he was having a conversation with the libero. “How did you guys manage all that?”
Kiyoko shrugged her shoulders but she had a faint smile before answering, “It was rough. But we didn’t want to give up on volleyball. Not when there was a chance to make it here. It was a risk. Our advisor warned us third-years to take our future into account before we made our decision.”
“And now you guys are here! I have to give you and your team respect, Kiyoko.”
Kiyoko laughed as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thanks. It’s been a journey and we’re ready to play against the best.”
“Trust me the feeling is mutual.”
“Speaking of feelings,” Kiyoko began with a teasing tone. “I’ve heard there’s a guy on my team that caught your eye.”
(Y/N) let out a nervous laugh as she looked away. “He told you?”
“Not directly but Daichi and Suga weren’t exactly keeping it down about it. Asahi is usually quiet. But he sounded happy when he talked about you. I think you helped him in more ways than one because I’ve never heard him sound so confident.”
“Really?” She couldn’t help but smile widely. “You're not just saying that, are you?”
Kiyoko shook her head. “I don’t know what you told him but it looks like he took it to heart.”
“I just spoke the truth. He helped me so it’s only fair that I helped him too. He’s a gentle giant that needs a boost in confidence.”
“Do you like him?”
“Well… It’s too soon to tell but I think so. Asahi is not like any other guy I’ve met. I just want a chance to get to know him more and vice versa.”
“So like a date before the actual date?”
“Exactly!” It was like Kiyoko and her were on the same wavelength. “Is that too weird? Or is it stupid? I mean, I just met him yesterday and so far he seems like a great guy but like… I’m nervous. He makes me nervous and… Shoot. I’m sorry for rambling.”
“Hey, it’s reasonable to think and feel that way. Take it from me, Asahi really is a good guy. He can be a scaredy-cat sometimes and can be insecure about a lot of stuff but he really means well.”
“I saw that side of him yesterday. He’s the type to shoulder all the blame, isn’t he?” (Y/N) asked.
Kiyoko nodded. “He’s still our ace and he’s been working harder than ever to prove it.”
(Y/N) remained silent, taking in all the information Kiyoko told her. She looked for Asahi again and smiled when she saw him getting clapped on the shoulder by the libero.
“Does that bother you?” Kiyoko asked, a hint of worry in her voice.
Confused, (Y/N) furrowed her brow before asking, “What do you mean?”
“Does it bother you that Asahi is the ace but he doesn’t have an ace-like presence?”
While Kiyoko hated asking the question she believed it was an important one. Girls can be ruthless. She heard the gossip from other girls and how they talk about Asahi behind his back. Calling him a wimp or how he was a part of a gang. As Asahi’s friend, she felt it was her responsibility to see if the girl he has a crush for is actually genuine in her feelings towards him. Because as much as she enjoyed (Y/N)’s company, Kiyoko will choose to defend Asahi over her.
“Should that be important? If anything, it goes to show how different Asahi is. When I saw him play yesterday, I knew he was an amazing ace but when I talked to him and got to know him… I saw a guy who’s not ashamed to admit his insecurities and who’s not scared to admit his feelings. I respect that. And after what you told me of what you guys have gone through, I know Asahi will show his self-worth on the court and show everyone why he’s the ace. So who cares that he doesn’t have the traditional personality of an ace? I think he’s already brave.”
Kiyoko smiled at her. That was the answer she’s been hoping for and (Y/N) delivered it. Her (E/C) eyes matched the conviction in her voice and Kiyoko loved it. Not to mention, the timing was absolutely perfect and she thanked the gods that (Y/N) didn’t notice the two people behind her.
“(Y-Y/N)-san?”
Oh god. She could feel her heart falling to her stomach when she heard her name in that deep voice that made her feel everything all at once. Her face became warm in seconds and she didn’t dare move an inch. It wasn’t until Kiyoko let out a small cough that brought her from cloud nine back to the gym.
(Y/N) took a moment to center herself before turning around to see Asahi. His chocolate brown eyes met hers and she swore the butterflies from her stomach danced between her ribs.
“A-Asahi-san! Hey!”
She quickly stood up, a bit too fast as she accidentally knocked her team’s water bottles out of the carrier. Embarrassed, (Y/N) fell to her knees and grabbed the nearest bottle.
“S-Sorry about this.” (Y/N) didn’t dare look up as she already embarrassed herself in front of her crush and his friends.
“N-No! Don’t apologize. It was an accident.” Asahi kneeled, grabbing the last bottle before handing it to her. His breath hitched ever so softly when her fingertips touched his hand. It was as if the rest of the gym faded away. Being so close to (Y/N), he saw how her eyes were beautiful as he remembered. He swore it was no trick of the light that her eyes seemed to shine like stars in the night sky.
(Y/N) felt so self-conscious about how close she was to Asahi. She hoped she looked okay in his eyes. Usually she wouldn’t care so much on how she looked, but the idea was thrown out the window when she met Karasuno’s ace. His long hair was once again in a bun but this time it was neatly in place, a perfect bun any woman or man could be jealous of. The small scruff of facial hair on his chin suited him very well, giving him a sort of wild, intimidating appearance.
But she knew better because Asahi was an adorable giant with a large and gentle heart. If she was being honest, his presence was like springtime coming to wash away winter’s snow. His warmth was… Indescribable.
How was it possible for him to be that handsome yet so adorable at the same time?
The moment was interrupted when someone cleared their throat. Loudly. (Y/n) looked up to see the libero, Nishinoya, with a large grin. His eyes were bright with excitement and amusement. She can immediately tell that this guy was the mischievous and energetic type. As they stood up, she could have sworn she saw Asahi blush.
“(Y/N), this is my friend Nishinoya Yū. He’s a second-year and the libero of our team.”
While he maintained a normal composure, Asahi was mentally beating himself up. ‘Why would you say that?! She’s a volleyball manager!! Of course, she knows that Nishinoya is a libero! She has eyes. She can see that he’s wearing a different color jersey! Asahi, you’re such an IDIOT!’
While the ace was mentally berating himself, (Y/N) formally introduced herself to his friend. During her introduction, Nishinoya could only gawk. When he heard from Suga and Daichi about his friend Asahi finally having a lucky break encounter with a girl, he couldn’t be happier for the ace. And it didn’t take a genius to see how hard Asahi fell for her.
“By the way, I’ve watched those ‘I’m Awesome’ videos.” (Y/N) brought up and immediately caught the attention from both boys. “That match with Shiratorizawa when you made a double save against Ushijima was so cool. It was so amazing that I had to replay it like five times. I even showed it to our own libero and he literally took my phone out of my hands.”
Nishinoya beamed. “Really?”
His chest swelled up with pride and the thought of another libero studying his techniques was just the icing on the cake, but to have a pretty girl, like (Y/N), praise his skills… Well that’s the cherry on top. He liked her already.
“And Asahi, you were amazing too. The way you were able to smash through Shiratorizawa’s defenses was unreal!”
The warm and fuzzy feeling from his chest exploded and it was as if all the heat rushed to his face. Asahi was sure his whole face was red. He tried to stammer out a reply but Nishinoya beat him to it.
“I know right!” He slapped Asahi’s shoulder repeatedly. “He went head to head against one of the best aces in the country and helped lead our team to victory. We wouldn’t be here without him.”
“T-That’s not t-true-”
“Of course it is!” Nishinoya looked back at the girl who was chuckling at their interaction. “Ignore that. He’s so humble whenever someone compliments him.”
Her eyes met Asahi’s and gave him a knowing smile. Although this was her second encounter with Karasuno’s ace, (Y/N) noticed the trend of Asahi’s friends building him up and teasing him at the same time. She had to stop herself from laughing at the lack of subtlety amongst them. Still, it was cute to see Asahi this way.
“Well,” (Y/N) began, her hand casually tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Asahi was listening intently. “Then I bet this next compliment is going to be unbearable because I thought you looked great during that match. It makes me wish I was there to see you guys play live.”
Nishinoya grinned. “Don’t worry, (Y/N)-san. You won’t be disappointed with our match. Asahi, here, will make sure of that. Right, Asahi? Oh, did I mention how-”
Kiyoko, who was silently watching the entire interaction, noticed the slight panic in Asahi’s eyes. She knew the libero means well but there were times he can take things a bit too far.
“Nishinoya, can you help carry this for me?”
“Anything for you, Kiyoko-san! I’ll follow you forever!”
Asahi was about to stutter out his friend’s name when he saw Kiyoko give a little head gesture towards (Y/N), subtle enough so she wouldn’t see it.
‘This is your chance, Asahi.’ That was the message she was telling him as Kiyoko led Nishinoya away. ‘Don’t mess up.’
“So, um, (Y/N)? H-How are you? You know, with everything?” Asahi could feel the goosebumps traveling up and down his arms at how cringy he felt.
The dark cloud of self-doubt and worry that plagued Asahi this morning has evaporated into thin air the moment she smiled at him. How was she able to put him at ease like that?
“So far, so good. I'm a bit nervous for today. Not the bad kind of nervous but the excited kind, you know?”
Asahi nodded as he knew exactly the feeling (Y/N) was talking about. He was feeling it right now! “I know that feeling very well. I feel it almost everyday.”
(Y/N) chuckled before replying, “At least, you’re honest, Asahi. Most guys usually lie about their feelings.” She glanced back at her own team where she saw Atsumu arguing with his twin, probably over something stupid.
“Well someone did tell me that it wasn’t a bad thing to express my feelings. I’m just following her good advice.”
The smile she gave him was like no other to know that Asahi was really taking her words to heart. Words can’t describe how happy this made her nor the warm feeling she felt stir in her chest.
“So, are you ready to play against us?” (Y/N) asked the ace in an effort to keep the conversation going. “Because we’ve been looking forward to this match.”
“It’s a bit nerve-racking that we’re playing against the team that placed second in the Inter-High. You have great players on your team.”
(Y/N) waved her hand in dismal with a shake of her head. “Oh don’t let that rattle you, that was yesterday.” Her school’s motto rings true in her words. “Besides, I’ve done my research. Karasuno isn’t like it was before. Your team has cool players too and that includes you. All you can do today is challenge yourself.”
Asahi couldn’t help but smile at her. “You’re just full of good advice, aren’t you?”
She beamed while tossing her hair over her shoulder in a joking manner. “I’d like to think so. But seriously, Asahi,” Her hand gently touched his bicep and Asahi didn’t shrink away. “How are you really feeling?”
“H-Honestly?”
(Y/N) nodded, her eyes looking up to him, patiently waiting for his response.
“I haven’t told anyone so d-don’t make fun of me but… I’m scared.”
“Scared of what?”
“I’m scared of failing. I’m scared to drag the team down. I’m scared to lose the trust my team has in me as the ace. I mean, I’ve watched the Inarizaki clip last night and I can’t help to compare-”
Asahi stopped talking when he felt a pair of warm hands wrap around his cold ones. The blush from before came back in full force. (Y/N)’s hands were small and so soft compared to his yet it was enough to calm his fast beating heart. With her holding his hands, it reminded Asahi of the time when Kiyoko held Suga’s hands during the fifth set of the Shiratorizawa match. He remembered how he, Daichi, Nishinoya, and Tanaka became jealous towards the vice captain. Now he was in Suga’s position and with (Y/N) holding his hands, Asahi understood the feelings Suga went through that day.
“Listen to me, Asahi, what you’re feeling right now… That’s normal, okay? You’re not the first ace to feel this way and even if you are the first that just goes to show how considerate you are to your teammates. I can tell you worked hard and you have skilled, trustworthy teammates. That’s why you’re here in Nationals, remember? You earned your spot on the team as the ace and I understand you carry a burden on your shoulders, but you’re not alone. You have your team with you.”
Asahi opened his mouth but no words came out. It was as if (Y/N) took his ability to talk. He felt enlightened in a way. He was pushed so much in the darkness by his own self-doubt, anxiety, and worry that he almost missed the ray of light that gave him hope.
“You with me, Asahi? I didn’t lose you, did I?” (Y/N) questioned, giving his hands a small squeeze. “Or did I say something wrong?”
“Oh! Sorry! No! I mean- Yes! I mean-”
(Y/N) chuckled. “Breathe, Asahi. There’s no need to be nervous. It’s just me. No one special.”
He shook his head. “That’s not true. At least, not to me.”
She blinked. Then blinked twice. Three times. When she realized that she hadn’t misheard him, she swore those butterflies in her stomach made their way to her chest and danced around her heart. The feeling never went away when he met her eyes. His brown eyes took her breath away while melting her heart at the same time.
Still, she wasn’t expecting Asahi to say that and judging by the obvious blush on his cheeks Asahi wasn’t either. Well, two can play at that game.
“Oh? I’m someone special to you? When we only met yesterday? If I didn’t know better, I would say you’re falling for me.”
Asahi felt his Adam's apple bob up and down. He was used to teasing by his friends and the second-years but never before has he felt like this. Wait a minute… Was this teasing or flirting? He hoped for the latter because he didn’t want it to stop.
“What if I am?” He asked, his confidence growing with every word. “Would it be a bad thing?”
(Y/N) smiled widely. “I… I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”
Asahi felt his heart soar to new heights at this. Any anxiety he had began to slowly fade away. His hands were no longer cold but he wasn’t going to stray away from (Y/N)’s touch.
However, the universe thought differently.
“Hey. Do you mind not holding hands with my manager?”
(Y/N) grunted when she felt a strong arm swing over her shoulders. Even without looking, she could tell who it was. The same person who had no problem starting a confrontation with anyone. Not even his twin brother.
“Atsumu.” She warned, letting go of Asahi’s hands, hoping this action would relieve the tension her setter placed around them.
The blond-haired twin kept the same annoying smirk as he met his manager’s eyes. He knew that look very well as he was always on the receiving end of it.
“What?” He asked innocently. “I’m just looking out for you, (Y/N)-senpai. You’re our precious manager after all. Now, is this guy messing with you?”
(Y/N) sighed, closing her eyes while counting to ten in order to calm down. She could only imagine how this must look.
“He’s not. This is Asahi and he’s my friend. We were just talking before the match began. Asahi, this is Miya Atsumu. He’s the setter-”
“Star setter.” Atsumu interrupted as he shook Asahi’s hand, gripping it hard. “An All-Japan Training Camp setter.”
Confused but feeling bold, Asahi matched the twin’s grip strength. He took a tiny bit of satisfaction when Atsumu grimaced the tiniest bit.
(Y/N) raised her brow at them but shook it off. “Sorry about him. He can be a bit much. Anyways, Atsumu, Asahi is Karasuno’s ace. We watched their match yesterday, remember?”
Atsumu gave him an unimpressed look before shaking his head. “Not really. He must have not made a good impression for me to remember. I don’t remember players who suck-”
He was cut off by (Y/N)’s sharp elbow to his stomach. “What was that for, (Y/N)-san?!”
“That’s for lying!”
“I wasn’t lying!”
“Just yesterday you told me he made a lot of great plays. Not to mention, you praised his service ace.”
Atsumu could feel himself blush a little when his manager caught him in his lie. “I… I don’t remember.” When lying doesn’t work, denying is the second best option.
She rolled her eyes while pushing the setter’s head down, forcing him to bow with her. “Sorry about him. He can be incredibly insensitive at times.”
Atsumu twisted his head to look at his manager, quietly struggling underneath her surprisingly strong grip. “No, I’m not!”
(Y/N) sighed before letting go and ignored the glare Atsumu gave her. Instead, she focused on Karasuno’s ace. “I wish we can talk more, Asahi but I need to get the team ready before the match. But I’m glad we had the chance to catch up.”
“Yeah, me too.” He smiled at her, much to Atsumu’s displeasure. “Can we talk later?”
The manager grinned and was just about to answer when she felt a strong tug on her arm before getting dragged away. “Hey, Atsumu! What the he-”
“You said it yourself.” Atsumu pointed out. “You need to help get the team, our team, ready. Let’s go.”
(Y/N) yanked her hand back and gave Atsumu a glare before he could utter a complaint. “Atsumu, be a dear and take this,” She placed the water bottle carrier in his hands. “I’ll be right behind you.”
“But- I, er, we need you. Remember, there’s that thing… That important thing…” His eyes gestured to his hands.
To anyone who didn’t know the Inarizaki setter very well, it may have sounded like there was something urgent she, as the manager, had to do. But (Y/N) knew Atsumu and she almost wanted to laugh at the desperation in his voice. This happened every single time before a match. It was obvious that Atsumu didn’t want to admit his problem in front of Asahi, who had a confused look on his face.
“The stuff is in my bag, inside the small pocket. Just don’t use too much like last time.”
“Yes!” Atsumu fist-pumped before running back to the rest of the Inarizaki team, forgetting the reason he came over in the first place.
(Y/N) chuckled as she watched her friend dig into her bag before turning back to Asahi. “Again, sorry about that. He can be a bit much. But he does have a point, the match is going to start soon.” She offered up her hand for a shake. “Best of luck to you, Asahi.”
He wasted no time in shaking her hand. “You too. Good luck to your team.”
“And whatever happens, win or lose, we’ll be cool, right?” (Y/N) asked, hoping Asahi wasn’t one of those players that completely shuts down and shuns people when they lose. She really liked him so she hoped that wasn’t the case.
“Of course we will.” Asahi promised. “No matter what happens, we’ll give it our best.”
“Good. See you later, ace.”
With one final encouraging squeeze, (Y/N)’s hand slipped away before making her way towards her team. Asahi seemed frozen to the laminate gym floor as his eyes were fixed on her maroon Inarizaki team. His hand was still in the air where he could still feel her fingertips.
“ASAHI!”
He flinched when he heard Nishinoya yell out his name and he almost fell over when he felt the libero hoist himself to do a handstand on his shoulders. It always amazes him how Nishinoya was able to do that effortlessly.
“H-Hey careful!” Asahi warned him. “And what happened to having my back?”
“You were amazing Asahi-san!” Nishinoya praised, stars in his eyes. “And I did have your back. We all had your back. We were watching the whole thing! You looked so cool talking to the girl you like!”
Was it just him or did that last sentence sound so loud?
“Don’t make it so obvious, Nishinoya.” Suga chuckled.
“Yeah, we don’t need Miya Atsumu to come back over here and scare Asahi again.” Daichi joked. “We had to pull Nishinoya back so he wouldn’t go feral on him.”
“I-I wasn’t scared! He just surprised me.” Asahi defended though he wasn’t going to admit that there was a tiny moment of fear when the Inarizaki setter confronted him. “He’s intense though.”
Kiyoko stepped forward. “You didn’t run away. I think that speaks louder than words.”
Asahi swallowed hard. “You think so?”
“Trust Kiyoko on this, Asahi.” Daichi said. “And trust all of us when we say, don’t give up. I know I give you a hard time with you being a coward and all-”
“Thanks.” He said sarcastically.
“Let me finish.” Daichi laughed. “I was trying to say… (Y/N) brings out the best in you. So keep going. Deal?”
“Deal.”
“Alright, let’s go win!”
“YEAH!!”
~Meanwhile on the other side of the gym~
“You done flirting with the enemy?”
“Does that bother you, Suna?” (Y/N) countered as she checked her bag, looking to see if Atsumu used all her hand lotion. (He’s always complaining about his fingertips being dry.) “I thought that’s what you guys wanted? For me to find someone?”
“At least give us a warning. Atsumu said it was that scary samurai-looking guy.”
“Atsumu’s dramatic.”
“Am not!”
Speak of the devil and he shall appear.
“He literally was squeezing my hand off! Trying to ruin my perfect setter hands!” The blond complained. “I call sabotage!”
“Maybe you’re just that weak, ‘Tsumu.”
“Shut up, ‘Samu!”
“So,” Suna interrupted before the twins could start another infinite argument. “You like this Azumane guy?”
“Is he Lucky Schmuck #1?” Osamu followed up.
“Or Unlucky Schmuck #6?” Atsumu mumbled with his arms crossed.
“I think… He’s the one.”
~
60 notes · View notes
taeyamayang · 2 years
Text
MINE.
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❀ MSBY sakusa kiyoomi x fem!reader
❀ themes/tags: fluff | romance | i was having a brainrot im sorry | timsekip! | established relationship | friends to lovers
ㅡsakusa kiyoomi loves in private but that doesn't mean he's afraid to show you off.
not proofread. forgive me if there are mistakes will fix them soon. also, it's my first time to write for him agh!
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you arrived a bit... early.
apparently from your standpoint which is the entrance of the arena, your claim is simply an understatement. you are the first person to arrive. as a matter of fact you're the first person in line for ticket check.
"are you...(y/n)?" the staff controlling the line to the entrance has taken interest in your identity rather than your ticket in his hand.
"yes. why?" you ask, uncertain of how he knows your name.
"hm, i need you step aside for a moment." he shoots you a small smile before turning his head to where other staff are gathered. he shouts. "someone call Sato, he needs to assist a lady right here!" the group of staff nodded before briskly walking away.
you observe the ticket master takes, rips, stamps a logo on a person's inner wrists, and gives their tickets back precisely like he has done this for years. he didn't question any of them, heck he didn't even spare more than a second looking at their faces unlike what he did to you which brings you in wonder.
"am i in trouble?" you ask.
"no." he side glances you for a moment before returning his focus back to his job.
"then why am i being on hold?" you didn't want to irk him by asking too many questions but he's isn't supplying you with answers that will keep you at ease.
he halts mid-air, holding a stamp in hand as he looks at you with a confused face like you uttered a statement that was too far-fetched.
"he didn't tell you?" he cocks a brow before pressing the stamp on the skin of the person waiting in line. his eyes still on you.
"who's 'he'?" the more you question the deeper the crease between his eyebrow becomes.
are you supposed to know everyone in this arena? sure, you have watched games here a couple of times but that doesn't mean you know everything that goes on in their system. he could at least let you on with a bit of information.
the ticketing master shifts his vision to the person approaching behind you. he hums.
"hm, worry not. sato's here. he will assist you inside." you don't even know who sato is but you nodded like you understood what he met. he speaks to the boy catching his breath. "she's (y/n)."
"yes! i know her face. he made sure i remember her." the man wearing a laced id with his last name, Sato, printed on it chuckles. at the corner of his laminated identification card is a job title.
"VIP staff" you read with your eyes.
"I'll lead you to your seat." Sato gestures you follow him inside.
without saying a word, even though you're dubious of what is going on, you trail behind him. he walks down a fleet of stairs, looking through his shoulder from time to time to check you.
he stops right before the barricade separating the blue and red chairs. the blue chairs dominate the arena. it's tiered starting from the barricade to the exit doors while the red chairs are numbered. it is in equal footing with the floor of the court, placed right next to the team's corner.
"you can choose whatever seat you want but i suggest you go for the one over there. that's the nearest seat to MSBY and the view there is amazing." sato directs you with full smile.
"there must be a mistake. i have a regular ticket." you decided to speak up, showing him your stub but he waves it off.
"everyone gets a regular ticket whether you buy it online or over the counter. the red chairs or the vips are per request." as sato explains the more confused you get.
"i didn't request a vip seat." you reply.
"yes, you didn't but MSBY Sakusa did." As he mentions your boyfriend's name your lids peel off and gradually everything make sense.
"i didn't know." you said in a hushed tone.
"oh! it must be a surprise!" sato claps his hands enthusiastically but you, on the other hand, is horrified of the situation.
your eyes scan the vip section only to recognize a couple of faces. celebrities, influencers, bloggers, daughters from prominent families, and so on. and you look at yourselfㅡplain white shirt tucked in a high waisted jeans. slung over your shoulder is a signature bag that took Sakusa ages for you to accept. a bag priced thrice as a regular one is a no-no for you but your boyfriend argued that it's reasonable because it's your first birthday with him (although, you have spent countless birthdays with him it was as a friend and not as a lover. he thought dating you will give him the right to spoil you with gifts). you are not prepared for this situation. you wish you pulled your best top out of your closet or caked your face with make up.
"make yourself comfortable, i'll be at entrance C if you need anything." Sato says as he walks back up.
"wait, Sato." you stop him and he turns. "is it okay if i move seats and by that i mean up there, in those blue ones?" sato pauses for a moment before he replies.
"course! you can take whatever seat you want." he offers you a gentle smile before walking out.
knowing that famous individuals that will sit next to you gives you anxiety. you don't want to be put alongside with people whom you constantly feel like you have to adjust yourself just so you could appear admirable in their eyes. you wish to spare yourself of headache. albeit, all you want to do is to enjoy you boyfriend's game and cheer for him.
with much thought, you make your way up to the blue seats. you settle in the last seat in a row and immediately pulls your phone out of your pocket. you snap a picture of the court from where you are and sends it to your boyfriend. you type in "here." before clicking send.
a few seconds to a minute, a check appears next to your message. a note that tells you he has seen it. you didn't bother waiting for his reply as you already that at this point he and his team are preparing for the match. so, you zip your phone in your bag and relax your back on the seat.
a chattering noise accompanied by steps coming from the stairs is heard as two girls wearing a Bokuto and Sakusa jersey appears. they sit next to you, giddy about the upcoming match. the other girl which is sitting farther from you notices you.
"who are you cheering for?" she asks, cheeks turning red the moment you met eyes with her. she's probably hesitant to start a conversation with a stranger but since you're stuck with them (because you're sitting in the last seat of the row) she ought to make friends with you.
"MSBY." you simply state.
"who in MSBY?" she asks.
"Sakusa Kiyoomi." the other girl turns and instantly her face lights up at the mention of her idolㅡobviously, as she's wearing his jersey.
"Oh my god! you like him too?!" she gasps, leaning to your side.
"like" is a funny word. you don't just like him, you are in love with him. you have loved him for years even before he became a professional volleyball player. you were his friend and ally, mostly when you join forces into jesting or pushing other people's buttons. your admiration for him goes beyond Sakusa as a volleyball player. you like him as the person you share breakfast with or the grumpy old man he turns to when the room gets too messy to his liking. you like him when he's unable to decipher how to bake a chocolate cake or how to callout a neighboor that's too loud. you like him in many ways others couldn't.
nonetheless, you nod to the girl and as she squeals her friend taps on her shoulder as she points to the court. "they're here!"
both you and your boyfriend's fan turn your eyes to where she is pointing. there you see his team walking from the dugout. you spot him behind the three: hinata, bokuto, and miya. contrary to the three men who never run out of energy, he walks behind them calmly almost like he's bored. as soon as he steps in the court his eyes scan the audience.
he's looking for you.
he squints to search for your face and when his piercing eyes sees you, you swear to the sky and below that you felt your whole body shiver in fear. he tilts his head to the side as he narrows his eyes at you then he jogs his way to the team's coach. they exchanged a few words and after a nod from his coach, he's on his way to you.
your throat runs dry when his long legs skip the barricade separating the court and the red seats and the red seats to the blue seats. the two girls next to you jumps in their seats in excitement as they watch Sakusa climb the stairs towards their direction.
you turn your head to the side, away from the stairs and to the two girls with owl-like eyes anticipating the volleyball player. you cover your pathetic face with one hand and after a while you feel a daunting presence next to you. he didn't do anything, he just stands and looks at you through his bottom lashes.
"hey, hey, MSBY Sakusa is here! i thought you like him? come on this is a one time opportunity!" the girl next to you wearing your boyfriend's jersey scream-shouts. thanks to her support now you're melting in embarrassment.
Sakusa clears his throat and it's about time for you tear your hand away from your face. you shoot him a sheepish smile as his brows meet at the center of his forehead.
"why are you sitting here?" your voice hitches as his cold tone reaches you.
"i, uh... heh." you purse your lips into a tight smile.
"did sato not assist you? i made sure he remembers your name and face. i reserved a seat for you at the vip section." he arches a brow. at this point, the two girls next to you are watching the events unfold with their mouths hanging. they didn't expect this at all, and it's clear with how they look.
"listen, omi. i don't want to sit there." your mention of his first name, no, his nickname had the girl sitting next to you gasp loudly in shock. her friend cupped her hand over her mouth to stop her.
"and why?" sakusa challenges as he bends his back down to match with your height. he anchors his hand on the backrest of the seat in front of you and the other on your seat. you are completely caged, trapped between his spreadout arms.
"i don't want to sit next to celebrities looking like this! we both have many things in common but we surely share the same level of hostility towards people, especially famous entitled ones. you know this."
the amphitheater is beggining to swarm with people. you and sakusa have gained a number of head turns and even some of them took a quick photo of him. the least you want right now is attention but your conversation with your boyfriend isn't ending any time soon.
"i don't even know who those celebrities are." He pauses, then adds. "i want to see your face up close when i play, baby." he never calls you with that pet name, ever. not in public places, not in front of friends, but always when he needs something from you.
"baby, can you cook me dinner?"
"you look so good. do you have spare time, baby?
"oh, come on, baby, cuddle with me won't you?"
it's totally fine when it's just the two of you in a room but when he says it with ears nearby you can't help but succumb to his request just to end the embarrassment. when he sees you slowly sinking into your seat, he already knows.
he has won.
sakusa offers a hand to guide you to the vip section but you look at him, head slowly shaking to the sides.
"you don't have to do that."
"i insist." a cheeky grin plays on his lips as he continues. "quick, you don't want everyone's eyes on us, don't you?"
hence, with a long sigh and a quick grab on his hand you flees you out of your seat like a knight saving his princess. you give the two kind girls a swift nod as a way of saying goodbye and in return they stick their thumb out, eyes still wide as a deer in headlights.
as you tail behind sakusa with your hands intertwined, you pull him back gently so he can stop and wait for you.
"you're doing this on purpose. you're enjoying my flustered face. i know you, omi." you say through your teeth and for the nth time today he catches you off guard by leaning in to the side of your face. he turns his head towards you just enough for you to feel his lips brushing against your ears.
"let me show you off." he whispers.
"i thought you said you hate attention." you reply, swallowing in air as you feel a growing grin against the shell of your ears.
"i do but i'm letting them know you're mine."
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title's not the best lol but thanks for reading! hope ya like it ;)
masterlist | hq.list
1K notes · View notes
ykwrites · 1 year
Text
Fired- Ukai x reader
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Pairing: Ukai x fem!reader.
Warnings: Descriptions of sex, no use of protection.
Rating: NSFW
MASTERLIST
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Evenings at the store were... uneventful, just a few highschool students passed by to get drinks or snacks before heading to the library after class.
It wasn't your dream job by any means, but it lasted only about three hours long if your boss didn't take too long coaching Karasuno's volleyball team and it paid okay (as okay as it could, being so easy and giving you the freedom to even study if you had no costumers)
You were in college, this little job helping you buy the few useless things your family rightfully refused buying for you.
It was a thursday evening, 5pm to be exact, your stupid economics book lying on the counter in front of you, so boring it could kill.
As background noise there was Shoyo, rummaging through bags of chips like a desperate child, making it impossible for you to concentrate.
''Hinata, pick one already''you urged.
''Sorry!''he said, peeking from behind the snack shelf with an enthusiastic but still apologetic smile.
''What are you doing here anyway? I can´t imagine you missing practice on purpose''
Shojo was obsessed with volleyball, passionate.
''There wasn't practice today, and the team wanted to go home already''putting three bags of chips on the counter, he explained, a pout clear on his lips.
Huh, weird.
Ukai said he WAS going to practice that day, he wouldn't have asked you to go to work if he wasn't.
Maybe he had plans he didn't want to tell.
A date?
The sole thought sent cold shivers down your spine, hopefully it wasn't for a date.
I should explain now, that the money this job paid wasn´t the only reason why you decided to work there. Maybe Ukai's presence had a bit to do with it.
''Y/n?''Shojo shook his hand in front of your face, making you snap out of it ''You okay?''
''I just... spaced out''you explained ''4,50''
Nodding, the little tangerine searched his pockets for the money, getting distracted when the door opened.
The smell of smoke instantly filled your nose, followed by a very deep and stoic voice.
''Hinata, what are you doing here?''
''Coach!''Shojo responed, smiling ''I'm buying chips''
''Go home, it's late''the blonde spoke, demanding, his presence making you melt with every step closer he took.
Instead of saying anything back, Shojo nodded, put money in your hand and quickly left, running out like he was scared for his life.
For a moment, the store fell silent, Ukai calmly walked around to check that everything was okay, and you decided to pretend you were extremely concentrated on your book, because otherwise you would be eyeing him down.
He was so ridiculously hot, blonde hair tucked back with his signature black band and a loose white shirt on, the first few buttons undone. This outfit was... too formal for him, he usually wore hoodies with the store´s apron on top.
Did he really go on a date? why else would he lie about where he was going?
Even more so dressed that way...
''Whatchu' looking at, kid?''he asked.
O shit, you were eyeing him down.
Pretending not to care, you rolled your eyes, annoyed at the stupid nickname he always used. He was only four years older and acted like he was 90.
''Just how ugly you look''you lied, making him laugh.
''You're the only one who said that today''he sat on a small stool near the soda fridge, fixing his hair.
If it wasn't impossible, you would think he was trying to make you jealous.
''Someone told you that you look good? tell them to get their eyes checked''
''Will do, I don´t think she'll change her mind tho''
SHE?
Definitely a fucking date, and you couldn't demostrate how much it bothered you.
Knowing you had no right to be even sligthly mad about this, but still being furious and annoyed, you closed your book and started gathering your things to leave. Trying to look as calm as you could, if he was there, your shift was over.
''How was the day?''he quickly changed the subject, his tone still playful ''Lots of costumers?''
He knew the answer to that.
''The usual''your voice was dry but careful not to express emotion.
To be honest, you had never shown Ukai any romantic or physical interest, but he was so out of your league it scared you to confess or make advances. Also, he always called you ''kid'' and pointed out how young and naive you were.
After a while of working with him, you got used to the idea of admiring him from afar, but didn't consider the obvious possibility of him getting a girlfriend.
You just had to get over it, leave your crush in the past and see him as what he was, your boss.
''I´ll head out, you need me to come back tomorrow?''you said, putting on your coat,
''As always, why you ask?'' he looked confused.
''Nothing''
''Okay, see you tomorrow then''
''At what time? wouldn't want you to be late for your date''you thougt, but didn't say it.
Your footsteps towards the door were extremely loud, a tense feeling of jealousy and embarrassment flooding your senses.
As soon as cold air hit you, you cursed in between your teeth. The walk home felt longer than usual, with more overthinking than actually walking.
Of course, your feelings towards Ukai were destined to end or be kept in your fantasies forever.
You couldn't complain, you weren't entitled to anything and you were too much of a coward.
That night, you closed your eyes wondering how that woman he was dating must've been feeling, how she felt when his hands touched her, rough and sweet at the same time, demanding.
And his lips... probably soft, tasting of cheap cigarettes, leaving marks to dominate and show she belonged to him.
Oh, what wouldn't you give to feel all of that yourself.
The next day your alarm ringed too early, leaving you plenty of time to overthink while you showered, had breakfast and tried to study for a few hours before having to head out to work.
Before leaving, you looked in the mirror, fixing the short, black pleaded skirt you put on because it was warmer outside.
As always, a short glimpse of hope made you wish he would notice your outfit. (too revealing to work in a small convenience store)
On your way, you crossed paths with a couple of Ukai's students who greeted you enthusiastically, dressed in their sport's uniform.
A couple of them went out to buy drinks for the whole team before friday's practice every week, so it wasn't weird seeing them walk back to the school with bags.
What was weird that day, was Ukai sitting behind the counter with his apron still on, crossed legs up on the counter, leaning back on the chair while lazily smoking instead of ready to leave quickly.
''Hey''he greeted, still not moving.
''Hey''you said, walking past him to leave your things in the back, assuming he would leave right when you got out.
''We have to restock the gum''
''Okay, I´ll get to it after cleaning''
And, he was in the same exact position when you appeared with the broom in hand.
''Don't you have practice?''
''The boys wanted to have a day for themselves''
''And you let them?''you asked, even more confused but trying to look uninterested.
''Well, I have more interesting things to do''
''I thought the interesting plan was yesterday''
''Yesterday?''
''Mhm''avoiding his gaze, you started cleaning the first aisle ''I would think that going on a date is way more exciting than being here, or at practice''
A small laugh escaped his lips, choked.
''If you consider having lunch with my grandma a date, I guess you´re right''
Upon hearing his words, you froze in place.
His grandma?
Before your brain could elaborate, or even realize how stupid and out of proportion your reaction was, he said something, something you would never have expected to hear from him.
''Is that why you got so mad yesterday?''he asked, playful ''because you thought I went on a date?''
This shit had to be a joke, not real, so you promptly ignored him, back turned to pretend you didn´t hear anything.
''How rude of you, not responding to your boss''
What the fuck was happening? Why was he acting like this?
''It was a stupid question''desperately trying to control the situation, you spoke, turning to look at him.
Ukai´s face was easy to read, showing how much he enjoyed himself, arms crossed and a smug smile on his lips.
''Then answer''he dared, standing up.
''I don't care what you do on your free time''
''What a bummer''
He huffed and you looked at him wide eyed, what did he mean by that? This was certainly new, and it didn't make any sense, bizarre and out of place, because in the couple months you had worked for him, he never acted this way.
Ukay was usually a serius, kind of dry and tired man, he probably had cracked two or three jokes in the time you had known him, but never this way.
''Ukai, what do you mean?''you asked, now seriously wondering if the man in front of you was a clone and not the actual Ukai.
Your question seemed to break his facade, making him look away and nervously fix his hairband, letting out a frustrated curse that you couldn't quite hear.
''Nevermind, I was messing with you''he said, quickly getting in the back.
Intuition told you he was lying, and with the urge to find out what all of this was, your feet moved on their own, following him.
Ukai stood with his hands resting on the small table he had full of bills and random paper, cheeks furiously red, even more when he saw you there.
''How rude of you, not responding to your employee''you joked, trying to ease his nerves(and also yours)
''I...played a dumb prank on you, it was inappropriate''now he acted like himself ''I´m sorry if I made you uncomfortable''
''You didn't make me uncomfortable, but I am extremely confused''
''Forget it, kid, a prank doesn't need that much thought''
For some reason, you still thought he was lying, so in a desperate attempt to clear things up and annoyed because he used the little nickname, you walked towards him with an intimidating gaze, resting your hands on the table right next to his with a loud and determined thump.
If this was a prank, you had the right to get him back, and if it wasn't...well, you would NOT miss a juicy chance.
''Seems like you tried to make me jealous''squinting your eyes, you got real close to his face.
Ukai almost jumped back, but after a few seconds of hesitation, he stood his ground, eyes turning dark.
''What if I did?''he said, that tone of enjoyment from earlier coming back mixed with dominance.
There was no going back now, you had to take the fucking chance.
''Didn't take you for a man who gets all scared when a woman doesn't get that he is flirting''you teased.
''Stop trying to piss me off'' he was so close that the familiar scent of his perfume mixed with cheap tobacco flooded every inch of you,
''And what if I am? are you going to do something about it?''
In seconds, his left hand held your chin up, bringing you close to slam his lips against yours with such force it could leave bruises, however you didn´t care if your lips fell off after this, because you kissed Ukai.
This was the kind of kiss that leaves people gasping for air, panting for more touch.
''I knew you liked me''he said, smug, still holding your chin.
''Who said that?''you challenged, walking around the table to bump against him on purpose.
Ukai didn´t flinch but smiled, confidently placing a hand on your waist and the other just at the edge where your short black skirt met your thigh. Instinctively, you shivered, melting under his touch.
Before responding, his lips attacked yours again with burning hunger, getting you desperate on purpose.
''I know you wear these little things just to tease me''his hand traveled up your thigh, teasing.
''Took you long enough to notice''
''Oh''he chuckled, voice deep, his digits moving up to meet the edge of your underwear ''I noticed, every time''
Almost shivering from excitement, you kissed him again, biting his bottom lip to earn a delicious groan and a more adventurous hand placed on your clit teasingly. He didn´t put pressure but smiled down at you, sinister, waiting for you to beg.
His name fell from your lips like a silent prayer and he took it upon himself to make you suffer a little bit, moving his digits only a couple of times.
''What?''he asked, still smiling, aware of how he had you in the palm of his hand with such little effort ''why don't you tell me what you want?''
Waiting for a response, Ukai placed a slow kiss on your cheek, the closest he could to your lips without touching them. It was a clear way of demostrating how he could make you moan so easy, melt under his touch.
''Touch me''you asked, panting.
''Mhm''he nodded, devouring your lips one more time and finally moving his fingers against your heat with a rythm.
Small moans filled the room while he worked his magic, leaving your panties a soaking mess, sticky and warm.
A small knot formed inside you, brain going fuzzy and shockwaves travelling up and down your body. Desperate to feel closer to him, to feel more, you needed to kiss him again and palm his growing bulge. As a response he groaned again, grinding against your hand for a few moments until he unexpectedly took a step back.
''Get on the table''before you could protest, he spoke ''take off your panties first, leave the skirt on''
You more than happily obligued, throwing away a couple of papers and sitting, legs immediately open for him.
Ukai observed the mess he made, proud to see your blushing face and eyes asking him to fuck you senseless, his dick was about to explode, so before going back to kiss you, he took off every piece of fabric in the way, leaving just his shirt on.
Your eyes shoot open at the mouth-watering sight, thick and veiny, slightly bent at the tip, but he didn´t let you look much before he was already kissing you,left hand on your neck while the other teased your folds.
''You are such a good girl''he spoke, inserting a finger slowly ''Your pussy is clenching so much, like you want to cum just now, and I didn't even move''
His words were like a drug, addictive, tempting and a great way to make you go crazy when he finally moved his finger, bending it with the sole purpose of finding the sweetest spot inside you.
At this point you couldn't even kiss him, head thrown back at the pleasure and hips grinding to follow his movements.
Just when you thought things couldn't feel better, he added another finger without warning, making you gasp loudly as he scissored his fingers to stretch your soaking cunt.
''Ukai''you managed to say ''Oh god''
Concentrated on you, he just listened to your sweet and lewd sounds, leaving marks on every piece of skin his lips could find.
Tears pooled in your eyes, the pleasure being too much for you to handle, one hand gripping Ukai's arm for leverage when you finally unleashed with a big, breathy moan, almost a scream.
''Fuck''breathless, you spoke, feeling his hand slip out of you.
''You did so good for me''he said, stroking your cheek with a passionate kiss.
This moment as you came down from your high, your heart swelled up, because he was being so sweet, loving almost, clearly giving you time to recover and breathe before moving any further.
For a bit, Ukai just kissed your face and your lips gently, touching your body in more of a caring way.
''You wanna keep going?''he asked, not pushy but relaxed, the dominance in his voice now gone.
''Ukai''you said, propping yourself up enough to tangle your hands behid his neck and pull his face closer until his ear was next to your lips, close enough to whisper ''I want you to fuck me, hard''
This time, you were the one smiling playfully when his face turned all red and desperate, welcoming the furious slam of his lips against yours. It was inevitable, you lit a fire in him and he still took his sweet time kissing and touching you all over until he couldn't take it anymore and guided his member with your entrance, bottoming out in a sharp thrust that took every bit of air out of your lungs.
It definitely felt better than his fingers, and that's saying a lot.
Ukai wasted no time and with a low moan, he held your hips and moved fast inside you.
''You feel so good, fuck''he said, squeezing hard where he had his hands and desperately searching for your lips.
Hardly, you kissed him, back arching at the pressure and feeling of him inside you, reminiscing every time you had touched yourself thinking of this very moment, even more turned on now that the fantasy was way better than you imagined.
Ukai was good, rough just how you liked it, extremely good at finding the places that drove you both crazy.
Soon after you were clamping down on him, earning more of those deep moans you loved so much.
''Fuck, pretty, I´m going to cum''he warned, movements getting sloppy.
''Cum inside me'' you pleaded.
''You sure?''
''Please''
That's all he needed to hear, and in the blink of an eye, he bottomed out one last time to release his warm load inside your walls, hazily slipping out after.
Between shaky breaths and the sweaty mess you both were, you could feel his cum dripping out of you and onto the table to wich he gave a lazy smile.
''You look so pretty like this''he chuckled, setting himself between your legs again, hands lovingly on your waist.
''Well''you laughed, heart almost exploding at the sight of him all fucked out and also very pretty ''You look like a mess''joking, you fixed his hairband.
''All because of you''
''Mhm, if you say so''
''We should go out together''he said, leaving small kisses all over your face.
''Should've asked me out before this, I think you skipped a step''
''Are you rejecting me?''Ukai laughed.
''I can't reject my boss, wouldn't want to get fired''
''Not in a million years, baby, you could punch me and I still wouldn't fire your fine ass''
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luvtsumu · 11 months
Text
comfort through body language
miya atsumu x reader :-D, hand holding, reader is anxious about having taken a test, nail picking,,,, fluff, comfort i guess?, implied uni!AU
_
you're nervous after having just taken a final exam. you studied well and were certain that you passed; however, you just can't shake the anxiety out of your system. you're jittery, your leg bouncing, your lunch has barely been touched, and your fingers begin picking at your nails.
you're a mess.
it doesn't help that you've been checked out of the conversation the miya twins, sakusa, komori, and suna are having over the lunch table.
but a warm hand is placed over both of yours, separating your hands from themselves to stop the nail picking and further damaging of your cuticles. instead, fingers gently interlock with yours as your one hand is pulled onto atsumu's lap. he takes that hand with his other, holding it gently in his and applying pressure against your palm with his thumb.
he doesn't turn to you as he continues his conversation with the rest of the boys, but you don't feel as though he isn't focused on you nonetheless. you know that as his free hand now grabs your other, nudging it to hold onto his as he tucks his finger underneath your inner thigh. there's a rush of relief through your body as he reassures you with no words and instead his touch.
the anxiety and worry don't exactly fade, but you feel better.
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