#i am bokuto's voice when it comes to him

[subbmissivesuccubus]

Cute aggression

Your boyfriend has a weird habit of being aggressively loving. He'll hug you so tight, sometimes you'll have to tap his arm so you can breathe. He pinches your cheeks with his fingers, cooing at you as he pulls at them playfully and laughs as you whine from the pain. When you cuddle in bed, he'll pull you in super tightly, wrapping both his arms and legs around you before snuggling his face into your hair, letting out a loud 'Mmmmmmm~' sound as he did so. Sometimes, he'll bury his face against your chest, snuggling deep into your cleavage, shaking his head back and forth as he enjoys the sensation of your soft flesh surrounding him.

"Who's my baby? Who's my sweet, adorable little baby? You are! Yes you are!" he'll coo before he smushes you chubby cheeks between his hands as he leans down to kiss your now pouting lips. He also bites you. Like a lot. He'll gently chomp down on your chubby cheeks, your ears, your thighs, your ass cheeks- honestly anywhere he can get his mouth on, he starts biting.

He gets carried away at times and even coddles you in front of his friends, using the baby voice as he kisses you or asks you a question. "Does baby want a new pwetty dress? Hmm? Something cute for my cute baby. Why are you blushing so much? Oh, the others heard me. Don't worry about them, sweetiepie. Focus on me."

It feels like there's a massive amount of energy inside of him that comes out when he can be aggressive with you. He doesn't hurt you, far from it, but it can take you by surprise when he will randomly pick you up just so he can hug you, making your wrap your legs around him tightly as he embraces you.

And of course, this aggression even comes out in the bedroom. He'll shush you as you cry from his spankings. He'll spend ages between your legs just because he can't bare to be apart from your kitty. He'll suckle on your nipples and call you his good little baby while he does. His favorite position is missionary just because he can easily fuck you, look at you and coddle you all at once.

"Baby! Of fuck- your sweet pussy is squeeeezing my cock! Relax cutie- ah- ah- yes- fucking love this cunt!"

"Hold me tighter- come on- really pull me in. That's it- just like that- oh baaaaby!"

"You want me to- fuck- slow down? It's ok baby, you can take it."

His other favorite is prone bone, just because he can put all of his weight on you and fuck you silly as his forearm is pressed against your neck, choking you perfectly.

"Oh, poor baby~ Am I choking you too hard? Your face is all red!"

"Yes baby, you can cum again. Cum all over my fucking cock!"

It was only through a random conversation with friends that you found out what cute aggression was and suddenly, it all made sense! You explained it to him and all he did was laugh, pulling you in for a hug as you swatted at him, not really mad.

"You're treating me like I'm a puppy!" you said, huffing as he started peppering your face with kisses.

"Well, you are my pet~"

Bokuto, Kuroo, Gojo, Yuuji, Shanks, Ace, Sabo, Uzui, Douma, Kaeya, Childe, Wriothesley.

#subby writes #haikyuu smut #jjk smut #genshin smut #demon slayer smut #kim #bokuto smut #kuroo smut #gojo satoru smut #itadori yuuji smut #shanks smut #ace portgas smut #sabo smut #uzui smut #douma smut #kaeya smut #childe smut #wriothesley smut

[deathc-re]

your audiophile bf who just can't bear to be away from you this long. his heart has a hole and his cock is throbbing in his boxers. the way you so energetically answered the phone, a smile coming through in your voice. he couldn't bare it, pictures of you flashed through his mind and unconsciously his hand slipped into his pants.

thick fingers wrapped around the base of his dick as he listened to you rattle on about your day.

at first you didn't notice, just thinking his hums meant he was multi tasking. but when your speech slowed and you could clearly hear the shuttering of his voice, something inside you stirred.

your voice became more sultry as you sat back against the couch, legs folded, cunt twitching as you put the phone on speaker. he breathing was all over the place and you could've sworn you heard the rhythmic pull of his calluses hand up and down his shaft.

"my love," you cooed, " what are you up to?"

"hm?" he breathed, paying your words no mind and simply focusing on your voice. bringing up memories of when it cried his name.

"are you jerking off, baby?"

"fuck- i am, yeah."

you let out a giggle and uncrossed your legs, shifting positions and letting your hands slip past the hem of your sweats.

"yeah? are you missing my voice baby?"

he hummed and you clicked your teeth, "answer me, sweet heart."

"i am, i really fucking am. i- i miss your moans sweetheart."

you pussy clenched and you slowly circled your clit, letting out a sigh into the phone that was dropped right by your head.

"i miss yours too. let me hear them baby, i know you're keepin quiet."

"mhm," he whined, squeezing tighter "but it'll never feel as good as you baby."

"i know, i know, but you can still make yourself cum right? do it just how you like it."

he did as he was told, and shuddered at the increased pace. fuck did he miss you. the softness of your hands, the wetness of your mouth, the twitch of your cunt.

like the true lovers you were, your mind was in the area. the feel of his hands on you, the drag of his cock along your walls, his mouth on your nipples. fuck did you miss him.

your fingers moved quicker and as did his hand. you both moans into the mic of your phones, cursing and whining and "oh i wish you were here"s until your bodies felt alight with ecstasy. dots clouding your vision, toes curled and backs arching off different couches you both laid on.

"fuck- i love you so much." he breathed, simply looking at the white ropes that coated his hand and stomach.

"i love you too baby. hurry home yeah?"

YUUJI, gojo, yuuta, kirishima, deku, sero, bokuto, tendou, shinra + others

#[moon's mind] #x reader #x reader smut #jjk smut #afab reader #jjk x reader #yuuji smut #yuuji x reader #boyfriend imagines #mha smut #deku x reader #deku smut #kirishima smut #kirishima eijiro x reader #shinra smut #jjk yuuji #gojo smut #sero smut #bokuto smut #haikyuu smut #tendou smut #tendou x reader #bokuto x reader #anime x reader #bnha smut #gojo x reader #mha x reader #reader insert #kirishima x reader #mha fanfiction

[fushisagi]

miya atsumu and the chronic lovesick disease

୨୧ ━━ ❛ what am i to you, atsumu? ❜

word count ⋆ 12.6k (12,607) genre ⋆ fluff, slight angst, friends to lovers, college au ━ gn!reader

the question comes to him one autumn night, surrounded by his friends and the chilly november breeze, asked by, who he assumes to be, just another nobody looking for money: what is it that you desire most, boy? the psychic asks, her saccharine smile forgotten when he looks into the crystal ball and all he ends up seeing is you. alternatively: miya atsumu is not in love. what the hell? who would ever suggest something like that?

warnings ⋆ alcohol consumption, mutual pining, denial of feelings!!! lots of it!! and with this denial comes some stupid decisions!!! author’s note ⋆ ive actually like never been to the psychic before so if its inaccurate im so sorry ..... it’s not really a big part of the plot though so hopefully u can overlook it 😭

o. Desire

This is a scam, is Atsumu’s first thought when he takes a seat inside the tent and finds himself face-to-face with a crystal ball.

People like this are dangerous — his twin brother never lets anyone forget it. They take advantage of an individual’s fear of the unknown and they make money off it. It’s genius, because even the strongest people can become weak to something as mundane as self-proclaimed clairvoyants setting base near a college campus.

Atsumu supposes he’s no exception. Even if Bokuto was the one who forced him to do this in the first place.

“Hello,” the woman greets, her hair pinned into a tight bun. “You’re here for a reading?”

“Sure,” Atsumu huffs, shivering when the cold breeze sneaks into the tent. He really should’ve worn a thicker jacket.

When he looks up from the table, the woman gives him a smile. It’s analytical, as if all he needed to do was sit down for her to know everything about him. He fidgets in his seat, growing more uncomfortable under her gaze.

“So,” she says, clasping her hands together and resting them on the table. “What is it that you desire most, boy?”

 “I’m sorry?”

“Your greatest desire,” she repeats patiently.

Atsumu blinks before tilting his head. “Um, I’m not—”

“I’m sure you know,” she says. “Is it strength? Power? Love?”

All colour drains from Atsumu’s face. The psychic smiles wickedly.

Atsumu thinks this may be the end of him. He never liked it when people acted like they knew more about his intentions than he did, and it only took mere minutes before the woman figured him out.

His hand twitches. He would feel a lot better if you were here—

“Ah,” she clicks her tongue, “bingo.”

i. Strength

After a borderline homicidal game of rock, paper, scissors, Sakusa lands himself a new roommate.

Move-in day comes two weeks later and Atsumu sits in the lobby of the building, waiting for your car to pull into the parking lot.

He notes the time — it’s five minutes past 8:30, making you more than half an hour late — before grumbling under his breath and continuing to scroll through his feed. When Instagram notifies him that he’s all caught up, he exits the app and opens Twitter in hopes that something will be able to entertain him until you show up. He likes some tweets, retweets a few more, and terrorizes Suna before he grows bored at the lack of anything interesting on his timeline.

Another glance at the time. He scowls. It’s only been two minutes.

Atsumu debates asking Sakusa if he knows what’s happened to you. When he opens their message thread, he raises an eyebrow at how unbelievably one-sided their conversations are, but he decides that’s a problem for another day. Your absence is more important to Atsumu than Sakusa’s terrible conversational skills ever will be.

(He’ll bother Sakusa about it later).

He’s about to send a long string of emojis when an incredulous voice reaches his ears.

“Tsumu?”

He looks up and immediately pockets his phone with a grin. “You’re late.”

You adjust the box of donuts in your hands and squint at him as if his smile is as blinding as the sun. “I slept through my alarm. What the hell are you doing here?”

Atsumu gestures to his outfit. “What does it look like?”

You stare blankly.

“Seriously?” he scoffs. “I told you last night I’d help you move in. How’d you forget? Am I that forgettable? You wound me, I—”

“Shut up,” you say, shifting your weight. Atsumu’s eyes flicker to the sticker on the box, and he tries his best not to frown when he notices you’ve written Sakusa’s name in calligraphy with a heart at the end. “Of course I remember you offering to help because I spent my entire night telling you it was fine.”

“You expect me to believe that you can bring all your shit in by yourself? You look like you just rolled out of bed.”

“Thank you, Tsumu, I can always count on you to make me feel like I’ve been shot by Cupid’s arrow,” you quip, brushing past him to get to the elevator, and as if it’s second nature, he follows. “I can’t believe people walk around campus calling you sweet.”

“I never said you looked bad,” he says. “I think the dried drool on your chin is pretty cute, actually.”

“Whatever,” you hurriedly wipe your face. “Speaking of bad, what on Earth are you wearing?”

Atsumu knows full well you’re not complimenting him, but he decides to treat your comment as if you have. He beams, picking at the sweatpants you eye with disgust before walking into the elevator with you.

“It’s my mover outfit!”

“Your mover outfit,” you deadpan. “Disregarding whatever that means — those sweatpants are baggier than Kenma’s eyebags. And they do nothing for your ass.”

He smirks. “You were checking out my ass?”

You avoid eye contact, feigning indifference, but Atsumu’s known you for too long and immediately recognizes your fluster by the way you tug at the hem of your clothing.

“No,” you deny curtly, straightening your posture when the elevator doors open to show Sakusa’s floor. “It’s just hard not to notice when those sweats are ridiculously baggy. Seriously, are you trying to put something in there? I could fit a month’s worth of groceries in those.”

You’re walking swiftly, eager to get to your new apartment and end the conversation. The both of you are well aware that Atsumu’s more than capable of catching up with you, but he hangs back, preferring to watch you babble while he trails behind.

You clutch the donuts closer to your body as words tumble out of your mouth — a list of things that could fit in his sweats, including two jugs of milk and a family size pack of chips — and Atsumu can’t stop the lopsided smile from appearing on his face.

“Maybe a carton of eggs, too,” he suggests.

“Oh, I wouldn’t trust you with eggs,” you say sharply.

“Why not?”

“Are you really asking me that? Last month I lent you my blanket and you gave it back to me with a hole in it.”

“For the last time,” Atsumu begins, quickening so he’s side-by-side with you, “that was Samu’s fault, not mine.”

“…Alright.”

“Y/N,” he whines. “I’m serious! None of that was on me — I even bought you a new blanket! Would Samu have done that? I don’t think so—”

“Actually—”

“The point is,” Atsumu interrupts, throwing you a glare before continuing, “blame Samu. Whenever something bad happens, blame him. That’s what I always do.”

“Spoken like a true, responsible individual.”

“Hey!” he protests. “I’m responsible!”

You open your mouth to deny his claims, but the pout he plasters over his face is enough for you to give in. Too tired to give him something as golden as a verbal agreement, you opt for changing the subject. “Do you think Sakusa will like the donuts?”

Atsumu frowns. “Why does it matter? They’re donuts.”

You grow annoyed at his impertinence. “I want him to like me, you moron.”

His expression sours further. “He’s your friend.”

“And I won a game of rock, paper, scissors, so now I’m his roommate,” you remark. “There’s a difference between being friends with someone and living with them. I mean, would you want to live with Bokuto?”

Atsumu’s answer is swift. “Hell no.”

“Exactly,” you say, “I need us to get along.”

You stop in front of a door and begin searching your pockets for your key. There’s a pinch between your eyebrows, the box trembles as you struggle to balance it with one hand, and your clothes are a mess, but underneath the fluorescent light of the hallway, Atsumu can’t help but think you almost look angelic.

He shakes the thought away, squashes it beneath his foot until the remnants of it have been absorbed by the carpet.

“The last time I saw you this nervous was when you asked out that barista,” he muses.

You dig your hand into the breast pocket of your shirt and huff when you find nothing. “What are you implying?”

Atsumu stares pointedly at the sticker on the box. Your face morphs into one of horror.

“Are you dense?”

“Calligraphy, Y/N. I’ve never seen you write calligraphy in my entire life.”

“I was trying something out!”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

You smack him on the shoulder. “I was being thoughtful,” you grunt, softening when Atsumu winces and rubs the spot where you hit him. “He’s my friend, and that’s all he ever will be.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

Your eyes leave him for a millisecond, flickering to somewhere else on his face before returning his gaze once more. “Of course,” you say softly, “Besides, I—”

The door swings open.

“You’re loud,” Sakusa deadpans in the doorway. His eyes travel down to the donuts. “Are those for me?”

You hand them over to him. “Yeah, I didn’t know what you liked, so they’re all assorted.”

Sakusa hums in thanks before tilting his head at Atsumu. “Why’re you here?”

“To help them move in,” Atsumu grins, placing a hand on your shoulder and squeezing it. “I know you’re going to the drycleaners, and I couldn’t let Y/N do this all by themselves.”

Sakusa shrugs and turns to go further into the apartment. “Sounds good to me. I’d rather not have to press those nasty elevator buttons multiple times just so I can come down and get your stuff,” he gives you the best apologetic look he can muster. “Have fun, though.”

Before you can go on a tangent about how Sakusa should be more welcoming, Atsumu pipes up, “Yeah, don’t worry! ‘S all in good hands,” he nudges you with his elbow. “Right? Your stuff can’t be that heavy.”

Atsumu, not for the first time and certainly not the last, stands corrected.

Not only is your stuff heavy, but there’s much more than he expected.

With each trip down to the parking lot, his muscles grow strained, and he feels the fatigue threaten to droop his eyelids shut. But, in the corner of his eyes, he sees your persistence to get this over and done with, and Atsumu decides it won’t hurt to push through.

His complaining and wailing can wait until later.

After you place the last box into your new bedroom, you turn to him while wiping the sweat from your forehead. “Thank you,” you say breathlessly.

He goes to tease you, to say that you owe him now, that you’ll be indebted to him for life.

But what comes out of his mouth instead is: “‘Course. Call me whenever you want, and I’ll be there.”

Atsumu calls it a housewarming gift. Sakusa says there is hardly anything warming about it.

It referring to the group of boys gathered in the living room — your friends on good days, the bane of your existence on all the others — with their limbs strewn about and their soda cans sitting too close to the edge of the coffee table. It’s an odd sight for Sakusa to have this many people over on a Thursday night, but Atsumu insisted, and he caught Sakusa on a good day when he asked if he could hold a movie night at the apartment to celebrate your new accommodations.

You’re sure Sakusa regrets it now. He sits in his armchair with a permanent scowl, swatting Hinata away when the boy reaches to fix the crease between Sakusa’s brows. If looks could kill, Atsumu would’ve been dropped dead ten minutes ago.

He covers his fear with a grin, but out of the corner of his mouth, he says to you, “Help me.”

You snicker. “You’re on your own, dude.”

“I thought I told you to stop calling me that.”

“What? But Bokuto calls you that, too!”

“Yeah, but it’s Bokuto.”

“I have no idea what you mean by that.”

Atsumu only tsks, forcibly ending the conversation by suggesting to the room that they should all play a game to decide who’ll prepare all the popcorn. A chorus of agreements is what he gets in response, along with someone complaining about how he should be spared due to his gruelling volleyball practice, and another person expressing his sympathies for the future loser.

Atsumu prepares the ladder game, and after he’s done, he looks at everyone with fiery hot intensity, an expression similar to one he wears during a match. “Remember,” he declares, “whoever loses can’t complain.”

Luck isn’t on his side tonight.

“What the hell!” he screeches once the reality of his defeat settles in.

Osamu, far too smug for Atsumu’s liking, quips, “I thought you said no complaining.”

The noise that leaves Atsumu’s mouth is something akin to a pathetic but animalistic growl. He goes to protest, even raising his hand to list off reasons why he’s been wronged — someone must’ve cheated, or maybe everyone in this room has a ruthless vendetta against him — but just as the words are about to leave his lips, his eyes land on you.

You challenge him to complain with a look, and he suddenly gets a much better idea.

“Y/N,” he says sweetly, growing pleased at your uneasiness. “As the host of this housewarming party, it’s only fair that you help me, too.”

“What?” you squawk, leaning forward as if you’ve misheard him. “But you were the one who suggested doing all of this! How is it now on me to help—”

“Well, he wouldn’t have done this if it wasn’t for you,” Sakusa muses.

You stare at him in disbelief. “Are you taking his side? What happened to roommate solidarity?”

“You just made that up,” Sakusa replies. “Besides, this thing will go by faster if two people prepare the popcorn, and I don’t think Miya wants anyone else other than you.”

Atsumu shifts uncomfortably at the implication, and he involuntarily commits your surprised expression to memory.

(When he goes to sleep later that night, your surprise is all he sees against the darkness of his eyelids).

“Other than me—?”

“To make the popcorn,” Sakusa drawls matter-of-factly.

You blink. “Right.” You look at Atsumu, and he shrugs dumbly, unsure of how else to react to your sudden change in behaviour.

To him, you have always been easy to read, but right now, he’s not entirely sure if there’s a word for the expression on your face. He yearns to press a hand to your cheek to melt the malaise away, to be rid of it forever so he can see you smiling again.

Something in his chest twists.

“Right!” you repeat, more loudly this time, and startling the rest of your friends. You slap your hands on your lap before standing and grabbing Atsumu’s wrist to pull him away. “I guess I’m helping you make popcorn. You owe me one, Miya.”

Your skin is warmer than usual, threatening to burn him until your fingerprints are marked onto his skin.

(Behind him, Suna stage-whispers, “You are so whipped, Y/N.”)

Your touch disappears the moment you’ve both crossed the threshold into the kitchenette. Atsumu flexes his hand, trying to get rid of an urge in his veins he can’t quite explain.

“Hey,” you say casually, back turned to him as you dig through the cabinets for the popcorn packets. “Did you finish that essay for literature class?”

Atsumu awkwardly clears his throat and begins playing with the settings on the microwave. “The paper?”

“Yes, the paper,” you say. “The one I told you to start two weeks ago so you wouldn’t end up sending a half-assed essay two minutes before the deadline?”

“Why are you talking like you think I didn’t start it yet?”

“Because I know you, Tsumu,” you reply, shutting the cabinet with your elbow and ungracefully dropping the packets onto the counter beside him. “And I lost faith in your ability to listen to me a long time ago.”

“How rude. I always listen to you,” he sticks his nose in the air like a scorned, evil, cartoon antagonist, “I just don’t take all your suggestions. There’s a difference.”

“You make my life so much harder,” you huff, inputting a minute-thirty into the microwave. “I honestly think I lose ten years of my lifespan whenever you tell me you’ve gotten yourself into another dilemma.”

“Don’t be dramatic. I’m sure you only lose, like, three at most.”

“No, it’s definitely ten,” you say. “You worry me too much, Miya.”

The smile on Atsumu’s face, previously smug and confident, softens.

“Seriously, though,” you continue, jabbing a finger into his sternum. “The paper? It’s due tonight.”

He flicks your nose, snorting when you pull a face. “I sent it in this morning.”

“Seriously?”

“Hey! Don’t act so shocked!”

“Well, this is, like, the first time you’ve ever done something even remotely responsible, so—”

“I thought we both agreed I’m a generally responsible person.”

Your silence is enough of a response.

Atsumu gasps just as the microwave beeps, allowing you to ignore his stunned expression in order to begin preparing another bag of kernels.

“Give me one reason—”

“The blanket—”

“—that isn’t the blanket,” he says sourly. “That doesn’t count. I told you that was Samu’s fault, not mine.”

“Do you want a list? Because I have one.”

“Are you serious or are you just fucking with me?”

“Osamu and I have a Google Doc.”

Another gasp. You roll your eyes.

“Now you’re in kahoots with my brother? What’s next? Planning my downfall with Suna?”

“I’m sure he’s fine doing that himself without my help.”

He whines, stomping his foot when you only stare back in amusement. “Don’t be so unrepentant, Y/N!”

You dump the contents of the hot popcorn bags into a large bowl for everyone to share. “Unrepentant? Was that the word on your word-of-the-day calendar?”

“Shut up. You know only Kuroo has lame stuff like that,” Atsumu grumbles, throwing the last popcorn packet into the faulty brick of power you and Sakusa call a microwave. “I used it in my essay. Thesauruses are a godsend. It really came in handy when I was writing about the flower symbolism in the book. Y’know what’s even better, though? SparkNotes.”

You tilt your head, studying Atsumu with furrowed eyebrows. “Huh.”

“What d’you mean huh?”

“Nothing,” you say innocently. “I just didn’t think you’d choose that essay topic, that’s all.”

“It was the easiest one,” he states. You hum in agreement, but he can sense you falling into a state of pondering before it even happens, so he lightly pokes your shoulder in hopes it’ll be enough to keep you from drifting too far from his reach. “Why, what did you think I picked?”

He can tell you’re debating what to tell him, letting a few seconds pass before you give in. “I thought you’d do the one that centred more around…” you trail off, clenching and unclenching your jaw, “the love aspect of it all.”

He blinks. “Why?”

Childishly, you retort, “Why not?”

Atsumu licks his lips. “Well, you’re always telling me to write what I know. And I may not know a whole lot about flowers, but I know more about those than, y’know, love.”

Something passes over your face, the same thing he saw when Sakusa said something — implied something — in the living room. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he answers. “I’ve had relationships, sure, but none that made me feel anything like— like that.”

You drum your fingers against the bowl. “None at all?”

“None at all.”

You click your tongue and stare at the microwave. Its buzz has become more prominent in your silence, a mocking hum hanging over the air as you contemplate and Atsumu stares, waiting impatiently for a word to slip past your lips.

But there’s nothing. Instead, the microwave beeps again, indicating that the last of the popcorn is ready.

“That’s good to know,” you say lightly. At least, that’s what you attempt, but you sound different, like a parasite has found solace in your vocal cords and fiddled with everything Atsumu’s familiar with.

“It is?”

“Yeah,” you nod, handing the bowl over to him. Popcorn threatens to spill but Atsumu can’t bring himself to care. “Hey, be careful. What, is it too heavy? Are you too weak to carry it?”

“It’s popcorn,” Atsumu rasps.

You eye him oddly, as if he’s the one whose behaviour should be examined under a microscope. “Don’t spill it everywhere. Sakusa’ll get pissed, and we’re already pushing it with this movie night thing.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Of course,” you agree. “But if you need me—”

“I know,” he interjects.

Simple promises are often uttered during private moments between you and Atsumu — an oath to be there for the other, to stand by their side no matter what. The words soothe him when they’re said aloud; he knows, underneath all the teasing and the bickering and the irritated eyerolls, is your pinky and his, intertwined.

And despite the voice in his head taunting him about a secret he’s unaware of, he allows the promise to enchant him.

I’ll be there for you.

“Do you need help?”

Atsumu grunts, adjusting your arm around his neck as he opens the car door. “No, I’m fine.”

“Thanks for picking them up,” Aran says, voice loud above the frat house’s music, “I know you were tired from practice, but—”

“It’s fine. I probably would’ve killed you if you didn’t call me, anyway.”

“Osamu said you’d say that.”

Atsumu expertly brushes off the statement, gently ushering you into the passenger’s seat and putting your seatbelt on with gentle fingers. Behind him, Aran watches the movements with thoughtful eyes and a quirk of his eyebrows.

“The last time they got this drunk was at the fall festival last year,” he muses. “For your sake, I hope it doesn’t happen again.”

“What does that mean?”

“Hm?”

“For your sake,” Atsumu echoes, turning to face Aran once the door’s been shut and he’s made sure you’re sleeping soundlessly with your head resting against the cold window. Atsumu stands pin-straight, his posture contrasting the way Aran stands opposite him, relaxed with his hands stuffed in his pockets. “What’s that mean?”

Aran laughs, like he’s unsure if this is a serious question. “Well, I mean… they’re always asking for you whenever they get drunk like this.”

“I guess so, yeah.”

“That’s why you got here in record time, right?” Off Atsumu’s questioning gaze, Aran continues, “I called you five minutes ago, and your place is a fifteen-minute drive away. And you’re not in your pajamas, even though you said you’d change into them the moment you got home.”

“I was in the area,” Atsumu says weakly.

“Doing what?”

“Getting dinner.”

“Why didn’t you just get something delivered to your apartment?”

“Is it illegal to want to pick up the food myself?”

Aran raises his hands up in defence. “No, it’s not, but it’s also not illegal to say you knew this would happen,” he shrugs. “You knew they’d need you Atsumu, so you came. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

Before Atsumu can force a response from his throat, Aran has already slipped back into the party, leaving Atsumu alone on the street. With an annoyed huff, he stomps to the driver’s side, muttering irked questions under his breath about what Aran could possibly mean. He opens the door with more aggression than necessary, only softening when he sees you stir underneath the jacket he’s draped over you to keep you warm.

He unlocks his phone when he feels a buzz in his pocket.

[00:30] Atsumu: are you still awake?

[00:48] Sakusa: Yes. Why?

Atsumu knows that your apartment’s farther from here than his, and he’s sure that by the time he arrives, Sakusa won’t answer the door because he’ll grow tired of Atsumu’s lack of response and go to bed.

The decision is made when he takes a right instead of a left, when he pulls into a parking lot that isn’t yours, when he carries your body up the stairwell and into his bed with ease.

Everything else comes as routine. He tucks the blanket under your chin, moves the glass of water so it’s too far for you to accidentally knock over in the morning, and leaves a change of clothes at the foot of the bed.

Atsumu likes routine. He likes the predictability of it all.

A groggy voice stops him from leaving the room.

“Tsumu?”

“Hey,” he whispers, crouching so he’s eye-level with you. “I hope you don’t mind I brought you back here.”

You blink sleepily at him, too inebriated and fatigued to acknowledge his words. “You’re a really good person, y’know,” you say languidly.

He smiles, amused. “Really?”

“Yeah. Thank you for picking me up.”

“It’s nothing,” he murmurs.

“It’s not.”

“I’m sure you would’ve been fine without me. Omi could’ve picked you up, couldn’t he? Samu could’ve, too.”

“I know, but you’re the one who always does,” you respond, nuzzling further into the pillow. “You’ve—you’ve helped me a lot.”

You shakily reach a hand to his face, playing with the strands of hair that fall to his forehead. He relaxes, eyelids growing heavy at the feeling of your featherlike touch against his cool skin.

“You’ve brightened up my life, I think,” your voice is muffled, but it rings in Atsumu’s ears clear as day, almost as loud as his quickening heart rate. “I appreciate you a lot more than you know.”

ii. Power

He watches with bated breath as the ball cuts through the air while gravity begins to pull Hinata back to Earth. Everything unfolds in slow motion; everything has faded into white noise.

With a slam, the volleyball connects with the ground, and it’s only when he’s pulled into a hug does the reverie shatter. Like being hauled out from underwater, the roars of the crowd flood his ears as Bokuto begins jumping on the balls of his feet and Hinata comes rushing over to them with a triumphant shout.

On the other side of Bokuto, Sakusa smiles, rolling his eyes fondly when Hinata and Bokuto begin making post-game plans to celebrate their victory. Atsumu, on the other hand, is uncharacteristically silent as he searches the bleachers with a cloudy look in his eyes.

He’s snapped out of it once again when Bokuto tugs on his wrist so they can go and listen to what their coach has to say.

Atsumu isn’t a stranger to winning — he used to get drunk on this sort of stuff, the exhilarating rush that shot through his veins after every successful game. He basks in the crowd’s excitement and admiration, because to be fawned over is the closest to love he’s ever been (if he could even call it that), but once the adrenaline cuts him off and he’s left alone in the locker room, it all fizzles out.

Something’s missing at the end of all this. Usually, the void in his chest is insignificant enough for him to brush off. However, today is different.

It’s abnormal for the power of the win to dwindle into nothingness only minutes after the game ends, but the blue moon has risen tonight, and now everything feels weird. The cheers aren’t enough to keep him from searching the gymnasium for a familiar face, and he itches to get to his phone in the locker room when he can’t find who he’s looking for.

“Why do you look like we’ve lost?” Bokuto asks. “C’mon, man! Smile! We just won! Aren’t you happy?”

“Of course I am,” Atsumu grunts.

(But…)

But.

The adrenaline shoots through him again when a voice he knows all too well catches his attention over the noise.

“Hey!” you rush towards them, dishevelled. “Before you get mad, I know I missed the game, I took a nap and slept through it, fuck, I am never going to stay up late playing Fortnite with you again, Tsumu, you’ve ruined my sleep schedule, but—” you huff, trying to catch your breath as you hand Atsumu a bag, “I’m sorry that I didn’t come. Congrats on winning, I heard the shouts from down the street.”

Atsumu smiles and peers into the bag. “What is this?”

“Mochi,” you answer. “A celebratory gift for my favourite setter.”

“I’m the only setter you know.”

“Which is why you’re my favourite.”

Atsumu snorts but hugs the bag to his chest, like it’s his most prized possession and he’d drag it along to the grave with him. “Thank you.”

If someone were to ask Atsumu if he liked the pedestal he’s put on after a match, he’d say yes. Of course he does. He quite likes it on top of the world.

But you match his joyful smile with one of your own and Atsumu finds himself rethinking his answer. “Anytime.”

The top of the world may be nice, but it is nothing compared to being on the ground next to you.

“You know what they say. With great power comes great responsibility.”

“Would you relax?” Sakusa snarls. “You’re in charge of us for a day. Get your head out of your ass.”

On the floor, Hinata lays like a starfish as he stares up at the ceiling, cheeks tainted a bright pink hue. “I think power’s gotten to your head.”

Atsumu waves him off. “I think this is the best practice we’ve ever had.”

Their captain had to run out five minutes into practice — relationship problems is what he grumbled to Atsumu before leaving him in charge without a second thought, much to the rest of the team’s dismay.

“I hope you’re never put it in charge again,” Bokuto complains before downing the rest of his water.

“Don’t be dramatic—”

“Do you know how gruelling this practice must be for Hinata to be tired?”

“Give us a break,” Hinata pleads, shifting his position so he’s on his knees. “Please. I’ll buy you lunch for the rest of the month if you end our suffering.”

Atsumu pretends to ponder the offer and grows more amused as Hinata begins to twitch nervously. “Okay, fine,” he relents.

Hinata cries with glee, hugging Atsumu’s legs before pushing himself off the floor and rushing out of the gymnasium — whether it’s to refill his water bottle or hide until he’s found, Atsumu may never know. With a snort, Atsumu grabs his own bottle amongst the rest on the bench, promising Bokuto absentmindedly that he’ll go easy on them for the rest of the day.

“I want to have at least a little energy left for the party at Kuroo’s tonight,” Bokuto adds, his smile widening when Atsumu nods in agreement. “See, I knew you’d get it!”

Sakusa takes a seat on the bench. “Are you going to the party, Miya?”

“Yeah, Y/N’s forcing me to come with,” Atsumu says. “How about you?”

Bokuto answers for him. “I’m making him come!” he exclaims. “You’ll have so much fun, Omi, you don’t have to worry.”

Sakusa deadpans, “I’m only staying for five minutes.”

Bokuto waves off his iciness with a flippant hand. “I’ll convince you to stay longer.”

“I really doubt that.”

“Don’t underestimate me!” Bokuto huffs. He turns away from Sakusa before he can continue to argue and focusses on Atsumu. “It’s good that you’re coming too, Tsum-Tsum! Maybe you can finally meet the guy Y/N’s going on a date with.”

Atsumu halts, hand tightening around his bottle. “What?”

“Some guy from their Psychology class asked them out a few days ago,” Bokuto says obliviously. “I think it was the night you picked them up? I don’t know. I think he was nice, though. Y/N probably already told you about it.”

You didn’t.

Atsumu forces a grin on his face. “Right, they did.”

Sakusa studies his expression with pinched eyebrows.

Atsumu’s cheeks hurt for the rest of practice, a consequence of the cheerful façade he’s plastered, but the pain subsides — if only for a moment — when he sees you outside the gymnasium, carrying your favourite boba drink in one hand, and his favourite in the other.

“Hey!” you greet, handing him the drink. “How was practice?”

“Awful,” Hinata mopes with a pout. “Your boyfriend here was running it like the navy.”

You frown. Atsumu blanches. “My boyfriend…?”

“Yeah!” Hinata slaps Atsumu on the back. “Him.”

All colour drains from your face. Your grip on your cup loosens for a split second before tightening it again in panic. You look from Hinata, the picture of innocence, to Atsumu, who only stares back, just as bewildered.

Hinata seems to take the hint as his eyes flicker between the two of you in confusion. “Sorry, I… I overheard Bokuto saying you were going on a date with someone, so I assumed—”

“Date?” you interrupt frantically, arms flapping to deny the words that have recklessly tumbled from Hinata’s mouth. “With who— with Atsumu? He’s not— we’re not— I’m not— we’re—”

“We’re friends,” Atsumu finishes, saving you from your stammering. You look at him gratefully, and he can only offer a weak smile in return. “I don’t know why you’d think we’re dating, Shoyo.”

“Sorry—”

“They’re going on a date with someone else.”

You narrow your eyes. “What do you—?”

“Oh, hey,” Sakusa says as he walks out of the doors. He tugs on the string of his mask to make sure it’s secure before nodding at you. “Did you stop by the grocery store yet?”

Atsumu’s words are long forgotten when realization engulfs your figure at the speed of light. “Oh, no! I took a nap and—”

“You really need to fix your sleep schedule.”

“I’ll have you know I slept four hours last night.”

“…That’s not a good thing.”

“It’s an hour more than usual.”

The genuine concern is evident in Sakusa’s eyes before he rubs his temples with a sigh. “Okay, whatever. Let’s go to the store before we head home, I need to buy more protein powder.”

“Ay, ay, captain.”

“Don’t call me that.”

You snicker then turn to Atsumu with a smile he’d move mountains for. “I’ll see you later, Tsumu?”

“Yeah, sure,” he murmurs. “Don’t take too long to get ready.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you say, patting his cheek. “Thanks for agreeing to drive me there and back.”

He finds himself involuntarily leaning into your touch. “Don’t mention it.”

Your touch lingers for a second too long before you salute him in goodbye and rush to follow Sakusa to your car. Atsumu watches as your figure gets smaller and smaller, a smile on his face as you glance over your shoulder and stick your tongue out when you catch him staring.

He flips you off and makes sure to stick his tongue out, too, in hopes that it’ll make you laugh loud enough for him to hear.

(He doesn’t notice the mischievous glint in Sakusa’s eyes, nor does he catch his name slipping past Sakusa’s lips).

(But he does notice you tilt your head, lost in thought, before you look at him again, attempting to figure him out despite the distance.

He thinks nothing of it).

Just after his 9am lecture, someone asks Atsumu out on a date.

She’s nice and easy on the eyes; a little timid, but he supposes that’s just the affect he has on people. Big man on campus is what he’s always referred to as, until they realize that he’s nothing if not a goofball off-court. Still, the girl — Miwa is what she said her name was — doesn’t know that yet, so Atsumu gives her the benefit of the doubt.

And he says yes.

At 11:00, the whole team has caught wind of his evening plans, and Sakusa texts him to tell him he’s an idiot. Atsumu frowns, asks why, but Sakusa doesn’t reply.

At 6:00, an hour before his date, he shows up on your doorstep with a bag of clothes and a tie loose around his neck. His left pant leg is tucked into his sock and the other is haphazardly cuffed; his hair is all over the place, sticking up at the back as the result of a hair-gel disaster.

You stare at him with pinched eyebrows. “What do you need?”

“I’ve got a date,” he explains frantically. “I need your help.”

You hesitantly let him in.

At 6:15 is when the argument occurs. The reason why is something Atsumu can’t recall, only that it was something so small and insignificant that the argument shouldn’t have even happened in the first place. He thinks you may have been in a bad mood before he even arrived, but that doesn’t change the fact that you haven’t talked to him in the past five hours.

Oh, right. And the power goes out at 6:45.

He texts Miwa to cancel, promising to reschedule on a day where they won’t be talking to each other in the dark, but his phone dies before he gets a response. With a shrug, he tosses it onto the coffee table and makes a mental note to charge it as soon as the power comes back on, knowing full well that he’ll forget the reminder the second he makes it.

He should feel more guilty about the fact that he cares more about your absence than his postponed date.

Atsumu stares at your door for far too long before deciding that he’ll apologize to you — for what, he doesn’t know, but apologize first, ask questions later is his motto — once you’ve left your room. He’ll grovel and get on his knees and even humiliate himself if he has to, as long as it gets you to talk to him again, because God knows he’ll never survive this outage by himself.

(Also, you’re his best friend, and — Atsumu has never told anybody this — the last time you gave him the silent treatment, his chest physically hurt from not speaking to you that he vowed to never anger you again).

It’s 11:35, and you still haven’t left your room.

For the past few hours, you’ve been watching Netflix without headphones to torture a bored Atsumu, but the noises stopped about ten minutes ago, meaning your phone must’ve died too, so it’s only a matter of time before you leave your room in hopes of finding something to do.

Atsumu’s almost giddy at the thought.

At 11:50, he makes his move.

He hears the creaking of your door and your socked feet softly padding in the hallway. Atsumu’s always tried going to sleep early so he can hit the gym before it gets too busy the next morning, so you must’ve waited the latest you could bear with the assumption that he had fallen asleep on the couch.

Atsumu tiptoes to the end of the hallway, teeth bright compared to the darkness of the apartment, and his grin only widens when you finally see him.

You blink before scoffing, brushing past him to enter the kitchenette.

“Y/N,” he says, attempting to be stern but it comes off as a whine in his desperation. “Look at me.” You spare him a glance. Atsumu deems that’s good enough. “Listen, I’m sorry.”

He watches you open a cupboard and fill your glass with water. The seconds that pass by are agonizingly slow and Atsumu shifts uncomfortably when the silence drags on.

Finally, you look at him, unamused, and say, “What exactly are you sorry for?”

He purses his lips in thought. “Uh…”

Rolling your eyes, you turn to make your way back to your room.

“Wait! Wait,” Atsumu shouts, rushing over to block the exit. His eyes dart all over the kitchen in hopes the walls will have the answer to your question. You tap your foot impatiently, and it’s only when you go to open your mouth to tell him to move that he blurts out, “I’m sorry for eating the rest of your chocolate cake.”

You look at him incredulously. “That was you?”

“Yeah, I— wait, you’re not mad about that?”

“I am now!” you huff, using an arm to try and shove him out of the way, but he catches your wrist.

“Then I don’t get it!” he groans. “What did I do?”

You give him a once-over. “Well, what didn’t you do?”

“This is about the outfit?”

“You’ve cuffed your slacks, Tsumu. They’re cuffed. No sane person cuffs their slacks.”

He struggles to wrap his head around your response. “You’re mad,” he repeats, then gestures to his outfit confusedly, “about what I’m wearing.”

You seem to realize just how ridiculous it sounds uttered out loud, because you pout. “Not just that.”

“Then what else?”

You stumble over your words before you coherently state, “You’re going on a date.”

He frowns. “Yes.”

“You’re going on a date,” you say again when it’s obvious he’s not catching on to what you mean. When all Atsumu can manage is a perplexed sound, you add frustratedly, “You’re going on a date, which I don’t understand, since Sakusa told me that I didn’t need to worry anymore, but I guess he’s wrong because you came here asking for my help with looking nice on your night out with Miwa and—”

���Wait,” Atsumu interrupts, still puzzled. “What did Sakusa tell you?”

“He told me not to worry.”

“Worry about what?”

That snaps you out of it.

You open and close your mouth like a fish out of water. Then, you cross your arms over your chest, muttering out a response with feigned nonchalance, “Whatever.”

Atsumu protests, “Hey, I—”

“Where were you even going to take her?” you swiftly change the subject, and Atsumu decides that he’ll let it go — that’s what he’s been doing for a while, anyway, and another day really couldn’t hurt, could it?

“Dancing,” he says.

“Dancing?”

“Yes,” he responds, relaxing at the sight of your amusement. “I searched up unique date ideas and Google told me to take her dancing.”

“You should’ve just taken her to dinner,” you say. “Because you can’t dance.”

“That’s not true at all.”

“You were born with two left feet.”

“Quit lying, you’re only saying that because you’re mad at me.”

“I’m only telling you the truth!”

“I’m a good dancer!”

“You really aren’t. I thought that was established two weeks ago when we were playing Just Dance and you knocked over Aran’s vase.”

“That says nothing about my ability to—”

“Yes, it does.”

“I’ll prove it.”

“Yeah, okay, sure.”

“I’m serious,” he says, stretching his hand out for you to take.

You look at his palm and back up at him. “You’re kidding.”

“Not in any way, shape, or form.”

“We don’t even have music—”

“I’ll sing,” he shakes his hand. “C’mon, hurry up, my arm’s getting tired.”

Without a second thought, you interlace your fingers with his as he whisks you around the kitchen, his laugh loud when you yelp at his fast movements. He places his other hand on the small of your back to keep you from slipping on the tile as he leans to whisper into your ear.

“Any song requests?”

“None. You’re an awful singer,” you retort, bristling at the warmth of his breath.

“So, what are you saying? You’d rather waltz in silence?”

“Yes. And I wouldn’t even call this waltzing. We’re just sliding around the kitchen.”

“We’re waltzing,” Atsumu says firmly, daring you to argue. You only sigh, letting him pull you closer as you two clumsily move around the room. He sings your favourite song despite your insistence for him not to, humming the parts he doesn’t know and doing his best to hit every note.

You laugh into his chest, and he makes sure the sound is trapped in his ribcage so he’ll never have to go a day without it.

When the song reaches its end, you place your head on his shoulder, your breath piercing through his blazer and skin. “I’m sorry that I got mad at you,” you whisper despite the quiet, as if making your voice any louder will shatter the atmosphere. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“It’s okay,” he murmurs.

“It’s not, but thanks for trying to make me feel better,” you say timidly. “I guess I just got my hopes up.”

Atsumu tries to get the information out of you again, the very thing that’s been bothering you — and, as a result, him — for weeks. “About what?”

Your fingers tighten around his. “Nothing,” you answer, and if you notice just how much his posture deflates then you say nothing of it. “Can we stay like this for a little while?”

“Yeah, of course,” he says, rubbing circles onto the back of your hand. “We can stay for as long as you want.”

iii. Love

“You’re gonna get it in my eye!”

“Then stay still!”

“Just promise not to poke me.”

“I’ve already promised five times.”

“Then promise again!”

“Tsumu—” you sigh, slumping your shoulders as you meet his defiant gaze. “I promise I won’t get anything into your eyes or your mouth or your nostrils. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

Atsumu narrows his eyes. “For some reason that doesn’t make me feel much better.”

You groan. “We’ve been over this millions of times—”

“Sue me for thinking you’re still mad at me.”

“I told you—”

“Sakusa got into my head,” he explains for the umpteenth time that evening, “he keeps on saying I’ve done something wrong, but he won’t tell me what, and he keeps looking at me as if I’ve committed a felony. His face keeps me up at night, it’s the reason why I’ve had so many nightmares recently—”

“Sakusa’s being a nuisance. Trust me, you haven’t done anything wrong,” you assure, your voice echoing off the walls of your tiny bathroom. “You have nothing to worry about, so stop acting like I’m trying to kill you with this face mask.”

He stares pointedly at the tub sitting next to you on the sink. “It’s scarily green,” he whispers conspiratorially. “Like, it’s Hulk-green. Nothing should be that green.”

“If you’re implying it’s poisonous, it’s not.”

“That’s what they want you to think.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you grumble, spreading the mask across his cheeks, ignoring his murmured whines about how cold it feels on his skin. “You weren’t acting like this last time.”

“You were using a different face mask last time,” he rebuts. “I liked the other one better than this one.”

“Well, I’ll keep that in mind the next time I go to the store,” you hum. “Maybe I’ll even take you with me, so you can choose the face mask. It’ll save me from your complaining in the future.”

“You love my complaining,” he replies quickly. “But I really should. I’d make your grocery trips so much more fun.”

“You’d get us kick out.”

“Would not!” Atsumu scoffs when you don’t even bother to hide your unconvinced mien and places his hands on either side of the marble countertop, trapping you against him and the sink. “I’ll prove it this weekend.”

You shake your head. “I’m not going this weekend. The fall festival is on Saturday, remember? I’m holding off spending money this week so I can buy a ton of cotton candy without feeling guilty.”

“Really?” he snorts. “You’re not gonna get wasted this year?”

“Definitely not. Last year was a nightmare.”

“You don’t even remember what happened.”

“Exactly,” you say, smoothing out the mask. “And you’re always taking care of me when I’m drunk, it makes me feel bad.”

Despite his proximity, you don’t seem to feel the intensity of his stare. His demeanour has softened in the past five minutes, smiling warmly at the pinch between your brows and the way your lips have twisted into a focussed frown.

This has happened countless times before — on all the other self-care nights, Atsumu finds himself in the four walls of your bathroom, free to admire you all he wants without the company of his friends and their teasing remarks. Though he’d never admit it, he prefers the quiet, because here, the both of you aren’t brushing off comments made about your relationship; here, it’s just you and him, pressed against the bathroom sink, worries left behind on the other side of the door.

Here, it’s so peaceful that Atsumu believes, for a few short moments, that everything will be okay.

“Don’t feel bad,” he says breathily, dreading the moment when you finish and he’s forced to pull away. “I like taking care of you.”

“You’re required to do it because we’re friends.”

“No, I like doing it,” he says again, ingraining the statement into your brain so it’ll stay there forever. “You don’t see me letting Bokuto or Hinata — hell, even Suna, stay over at my apartment and sleep in my bed.”

You pause your movements, eyes flickering to his. “What does that make me then?”

“Huh?”

“Bokuto, Hinata, and Suna are your friends, but you don’t pick them up from parties and let them say the night at your place.”

“Well, that’s cause I can’t be bothered most of the time, since they’re usually going to on-campus parties and my place is so far from—”

“But you picked me up a few nights ago,” you interrupt, and Atsumu is drawn to the determination in your irises more than he wants to admit. “And a couple weeks ago too, I think. You’ve been picking me up before I even moved in with Sakusa, and my old place was thirty minutes away.”

“What are you saying, Y/N?”

“What am I to you, Atsumu?”

He grips the countertop so tightly his knuckles are as white as the marble. His heart drums against his ribcage, so loud in the cavity of his chest that he wonders if you can hear it too.

“You’re my friend.”

“Like Bokuto? Or Hinata, or Su—?”

“No, of course not,” he scoffs. Comparing yourself to them is absurd. “It’s diff— you’re different.”

“Different how?”

Suddenly, everything feels stuffy. Tension floods the room until he’s neck-deep in it and drowning, all while you stare up at him, awaiting an answer.

“I—”

Someone knocks loudly on the door.

“Hey!” Bokuto. “Is someone in here?”

You don’t answer. The ball is in Atsumu’s court.

There’s an answer that lingers in his mind, one that he wants to give you despite the risk that it could destroy everything he’s ever known. But as his hesitation grows, the ring buoy that is Bokuto’s voice becomes more tempting — something to save him from this situation where he’s flailing in hope and what-ifs. Something to save him from your want and his dread and all the other sharp objects that could slice your friendship in two.

(Aren’t you the one who’s always saying he should be more responsible?

Doing this is the most responsible thing he could do, isn’t it?)

“We’ll be right out,” he responds, and just as he replies, you pull away from him in defeat.

Everything in his body tightens.

You turn to wash your hands. Through the mirror, he can see you blink rapidly and clench your jaw.

When he finally goes to exit, Bokuto stands impatiently on the other side. His eyebrows rise when he spots the hairband keeping Atsumu’s blond strands out of his face.

“That’s cute,” Bokuto coos, poking at the heart that sticks out from the material.

“Thanks,” Atsumu says, adjusting the band and letting his fingers brush against the plush heart. “It’s Y/N’s.”

The sun had set a long time ago.

In its absence is the moon, its light barely sufficient to lead you and Atsumu home — home being his apartment, but you’ve been there so much it might as well be your own. It’s alright, though, he thinks; your arm is interlinked with his, and that’s all he’ll ever need to guide him.

Your hips bump his as you both walk down the sidewalk, the air a melody of your laughs as he retells a childhood story about him and Osamu. You fail to refrain the teasing comments that fall from your lips about how he’s always been a troublemaker, long before you ever met him.

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” he’d said a couple minutes ago. “Since I’m your favourite and everything.”

You smile, and every time you do so, the more he believes that the bathroom incident has been forgotten.

But Atsumu’s not stupid. He senses your discomfort — it’s miniscule, but it’s there, and deep down he knows it’s all because of what happened last night.

Every Tuesday, you wait for his evening lecture to finish before you both walk back to his place to watch a movie. Some nights you leave before the clock strikes ten, most nights you stay over. It’s a routine that’s been implemented since he first met you, and never once has it ever felt tense.

Atsumu itches to fix it.

“Hey,” he pipes up, hoping to avoid any uncomfortable lulls in conversation. “You never told me how your date went.”

“My date?”

“Yeah. Bokuto says some guy from your Psychology class asked you out.”

“What?”

“At the party.”

You crinkle your nose in thought before a light bulb goes off in your head. “Are you talking about Kuroo?”

Atsumu’s eyes may as well bulge out of the sockets with how much they’ve widened. “Kuroo asked you out?”

“No,” you say quickly. “Well, yes. But he didn’t mean it. He only did it to get someone to stop bothering him.”

Atsumu frowns. “Then why did Bokuto say—?”

“Bokuto was drunk,” you snicker. “Plus, you know how much of a lightweight he is, and Hinata just kept on giving him drinks, so you can imagine how that went.”

“Not good, probably.”

“Nope,” you say. “Just imagine everything that could’ve gone wrong then double it.”

“Did he puke on Akaashi?”

“Yeah, and on Kuroo too.”

“See, that’s why I never let him stay the night.”

Your smile wavers and he pinches himself for saying anything in the first place.

“That’s probably the only good idea you’ve ever had,” you eventually say, but your voice is weaker than you intend it to be.

Atsumu can’t find the energy to argue.

He allows himself to be pulled down the street, your footsteps hasty compared to how he tries to drag his feet along the cement. Atsumu assumes you want to get this night over with, to spend only an hour — maybe two — with him before bidding goodbye, and the thought causes an ugly feeling to root itself into the pit of his stomach.

The wind whistles in warning. He should’ve expected something like this.

All good things come to an end is something he’s heard far too many times to count, but Atsumu is nothing if not an optimist, and even so, he never thought a saying such as that could ever apply to his friendship with you. Despite the hardships, the two of you have always pulled through.

But the clouds begin to drift over the moon, hindering its light, and his stomach churns at what’s to come.

Your voice, disguised as a remedy to soothe his unease, carries him forward. “Listen, I think I’ll head home after the movie.”

He blinks. “What?”

“I just want to sleep in my own bed tonight, y’know?”

“You can sleep in mine,” he suggests, his tone bordering on a plea. You always sleep in mine. “I can sleep on the couch.”

“It’s okay, Tsumu,” you reply. “You’re probably tired of seeing me all the time, anyway.”

“I’m not,” he insists.

You give him a tight smile in response.

Atsumu’s always believed he was good with words. His voice has failed him before, sure, and it’s not like it’s a secret that sometimes his carelessness lands him in undesirable situations, but he’s usually so quick on his feet. He knows what to say, and if he doesn’t, he can crank up the charm until everyone in the vicinity begins to suffocate on his charisma.

Miya Atsumu is rarely ever speechless.

But then you started acting different, and suddenly he couldn’t decipher your expressions or predict your every move. You would dance with him in the kitchen and tenderly apply skincare products on his face, but no matter how much he pulled you close, you would drift further away. You’d open up before brushing everything off as if he had nothing to worry about.

It's like you haven’t been paying attention at all. If it involved you, Atsumu would always worry.

The question slips out of his mouth too quickly for him to control. “Are you ever gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

“What?”

He stops walking, and as a result, so do you. “Something’s been bothering you,” he says hoarsely. “And I was waiting it out because I thought you’d tell me, but… I feel like you never will.”

You lick your lips — to stall, he thinks, but doing so only spares you a second. “Do you have any guesses?”

“Huh?”

“You’re not an idiot,” you sigh. “You must have some idea.”

(And, perhaps, maybe a small part of him does. You’re his best friend, and he is yours, and you each earned that title by knowing the other like the moon knows the stars, like the stars know the sky, like the sky knows the sun.

He knows, you know he does. But this is irresponsible. It threatens everything).

“I don’t,” he lies.

“Atsumu,” you exhale, as if he’s entangled in your system, “do you really need me to say it?”

He doesn’t answer. You continue, anyway.

Three words are whispered into the dead of night, and the world tilts on its axis.

This was never part of the routine.

“Maybe I should just go home,” you murmur when he doesn’t speak. His fingers twitch, screaming at him to reach out for you as soon as you pull away. “I’ll see you when I see you.”

“Y/N—”

“Just let me go,” you say — you beg. “Please.”

His body screams, his nerves flare, but the messenger between his spinal cord and his brain fails to relay the message that he should do everything in his power to prevent you from leaving.

“Okay,” he responds. His voice sounds like it hasn’t been in use for years, tainted with defeat.

You turn to leave, and for the first time since you’ve met him, Atsumu doesn’t follow.

Atsumu’s moody, he has been for a while, and it doesn’t take long for everyone to realize it’s because of you.

Or, more specifically, the absence of you.

You’ve been spending more time by yourself than you have been with anyone else, cooped up in the safety of your bedroom and listening to — according to Sakusa — music that ranges from soft, heartbroken ballads, to hardcore fuck-you anthems. The lack of your presence is strange; you’ve always been a constant in Atsumu’s life, and to live without it leaves a lingering emptiness in his chest.

He'll catch glimpses of you sometimes on campus, and he feels, what he assumes to be, the same emotion people feel when they claim they’ve spotted Bigfoot.

For a moment, everything feels a little more bearable.

But then you disappear, leaving sorrow in your wake, and reality washes over him like an ice-cold bucket of water.

His moping is how he ends up tagging along with Bokuto and Hinata at the fall festival, trailing after them like an upset puppy while they frolic down the streets, gawking at all the stands and taste-testing every snack they come across. The plan was to have them cheer him up, to make him smile even if it’s only for a second, because when Atsumu is upset, it becomes everyone else’s problem.

Hinata offers him some funnel cake and Atsumu absentmindedly murmurs about how it’s your favourite. They all buy friendship bracelets and Atsumu buys one for you too because he knows how much you’d want one. They all clamber onto the carousel and Atsumu wonders if you’d fall off if you rode the horse.

Bokuto and Hinata get tired of it all eventually.

“He’s hopeless,” Bokuto cries when they reunite with Suna and Osamu. “He won’t stop whining.”

Atsumu opts for standing on his toes to look over the crowd in hopes of finding you instead of replying to his friend. His eyes drift first to the ring toss, then to the man selling cotton candy, then to the spinning teacups.

Nothing.

Osamu says something that finally catches his brother’s attention. “Well, Y/N’s not coming,” he waves his phone in the air, which is open on his message thread with you. “Said they were busy.”

Hinata huffs. “They’re only saying that cause Tsumu’s here.”

Bokuto slaps his arm. “Shoyo!”

“What? It’s true!” he exclaims defensively. “You know how they’re always on top of their assignments, I doubt they’re doing anything but watching TV and—”

“Yeah, but still, don’t say that! Isn’t Tsum-Tsum heartbroken enough?”

“I am not heartbroken,” Atsumu snarls.

Suna gives him a look. “Well…”

“I’m not!” he flails, frantically gesturing to himself to show that he’s perfectly fine. “I mean, yeah, am I a little upset? Yes. But heartbroken? You guys are just saying anything at this point, like—”

Osamu interrupts him before he can continue rambling and digging himself into a bigger hole. “What did you even do, anyway?”

The Miya twins are notorious on campus for their bickering, but Atsumu thought that in this situation, at least his own brother would be on his side. “What makes you think this is all my fault?”

Osamu raises an eyebrow, mocking and patronizing. “Well, for one—”

“If anything,” Atsumu continues, hurriedly cutting him off, “I should be the one avoiding them. Not that I’d want to, I’d never want to, obviously, but if we were getting technical then they should be the one worrying about me and not the other way around.”

Hinata speaks, mouth full of the last of his funnel cake. “Who says they don’t worry about you?”

“I— wait, what?”

“They’re always asking me and Shoyo about how you’re doing,” Bokuto chirps. “How screwed up could things be that you won’t talk to each other?”

Atsumu inhales, and he feels the world begin to collapse into him. Unsure of what to say, unsure of what to think, unsure if it’s fair of him to reach for his phone and hope you’ll answer his calls. He knows why the two of you have found yourselves here, standing on opposite sides of a field of regret and hurt. He knows, that in his attempt to dodge change, he blew something up in the process.

Suna tilts his head in question. “Atsumu. What happened?”

Atsumu exhales. “They told me that—” the words lodge themselves in his throat, unwilling to leave.

But they all understand.

“Huh,” Suna hums. “Didn’t think they had it in them.”

“What did you reply with?” Osamu asks.

Atsumu prepares himself for their rage. “Nothing.”

He’s met with silence. Then, incredulously, Suna asks, “Are you stupid?”

Osamu answers for him. “Chronically so.”

Atsumu doesn’t have the heart to respond to the jab, and the severity of the situation significantly increases.

Hinata bites the inside of his cheek in thought. “I think he’s broken.”

Bokuto leans forward to study Atsumu’s expression as much as he can before the latter waves him off. With a frown, Bokuto steps back and looks around the grounds, hoping to find something that’ll cheer Atsumu up and make tonight not a complete bust.

A tent, flashy and sparkly and enchanting, lures him in.

Osamu looks like he’s about to say something, but before he can utter a word, Bokuto tugs on Atsumu’s sleeve and drags him to the tent, ignoring his protests. “I have an idea,” he says reassuringly, but it does nothing to calm his friend. “Trust me on this.”

Atsumu snatches his arm back and rubs it as if Bokuto’s harmed him. He cranes his neck around to look at the sign just outside the tent, and scowls at the pink and yellow doodles on the chalkboard.

“This is a psychic.”

Bokuto nods vigorously. “Yes.”

“Your idea of cheering me up is having me scammed?”

Bokuto pouts. “You love stuff like this.”

He’s not wrong. If it were any other day, this place would be Atsumu’s first stop. He’d be the one begging people to join him despite the fact that he knows the consequences involve a dent in his bank account, but today, predictions of his future are the last thing on his mind. Today, convincing people to get their fortune read is the least of his desires, because you aren’t trying to convince people with him.

There’s no point being here without you.

Atsumu moves to get out of line.

“Hey, dude,” Bokuto whines and holds onto his arm to keep him in place. “Just give it a try. It can’t hurt, can it?”

“Boku—”

“It’ll be fun!” he says cheerily. “Maybe it’ll give you some insight on how to apologize to Y/N.”

Atsumu wants nothing more than to move — to leave — but Bokuto mastered the art of the puppy dog eyes long before he could talk, and the moment he flashes them Atsumu realizes he has no other choice but to stay.

When he steps into the tent, the atmosphere changes.

He tugs on the sleeves of his windbreaker when the autumn air threatens to pierce his skin, and reluctantly sits down on the chair across from the psychic. She eyes his every move, trying to figure out what type of customer he might be — someone who’s just doing this for fun, or someone who’s going through a rough patch, or someone who needs a stranger to light the path they need to walk down.

Atsumu fidgets in his seat.

“You’re here for a reading?”

A shrug and feigned indifference are what she receives as an answer. “Sure.”

His mask of nonchalance begins to slip when the reading starts, growing restless as he checks the time on his watch and calculating the probability of you still being awake. He glances over his shoulder, praying to whichever deity who’ll listen that Bokuto will come in and drag him out once he’s realized that this is the last thing Atsumu wants.

You are not here, and his body stings whenever the reminder worms its way into his mind.

His uneasiness must amuse the psychic, because when he finally looks back at her, she’s grinning, knotting his stomach in worry.

She asks him a dreadful question, made of nuts and bolts and things that rub salt in the wound of his heart.

What is it that you desire most, boy?

Atsumu freezes, plastering a confused smile on his face. “I’m sorry?”

“I’m sure you know. Is it strength?”

Definitely not, Atsumu wants to say. He’s more than capable enough to lift heavy boxes, he doesn’t have to take multiple trips to move things from point A to point B, he doesn’t struggle carrying his friends’ slump and inebriated bodies into a bed.

Atsumu is strong. He’s proved it during his frequent trips to the gym and by winning arm-wrestling contests. He wears the trait like a badge of honour, a reminder.

He does not need any more physical strength.

He checks his watch and wonders if you’ve brushed your teeth and dragged yourself to bed.

The psychic pushes. “Power?”

Atsumu briefly shakes his head, a movement so miniscule it’s a surprise the woman catches it.

It used to be such a thrill, the popularity that came with his volleyball reign. He used to ride that horse and sit in that throne with pride, he let the excitement course through him and, for a while, let himself believe the squeals that came with victory was interchangeable with love.

But power does not compare. He was foolish to believe nothing could beat the rush that came with the admiration — the shouts of his name in the bleachers, the ever-growing follower count, the people confessing their infatuation whenever they caught him alone.

They do not know who he is underneath the volleyball uniform. They don’t know that he likes to go to the diner after games and order a strawberry milkshake, or that his bottom drawer is filled to the brim with spare clothes for you, or that his favourite nights are spent with you applying a face mask to his skin.

They will never know him as much as you do.

The psychic leans forward. “Love?”

Atsumu clenches his jaw. Yes, would be the short answer, but to say that without an explanation would mean to lie, and he’s never been a good liar. Because Atsumu’s always been loved — not by the crowds or the student body — but by his friends, his family, you.

You gave your heart to him, and he noticed too late that the bleeding organ resided in the palm of his hand, cracked and yearning and brave. And after he realized this, he selfishly craved for more, even though he knew it scared him. He has been in relationships before, but none of them crossed the threshold of what truly mattered — the intimate conversations, the dances in the kitchen at midnight, the confessions murmured under the duvet.

So, perhaps, yes, Atsumu desires love, but the one thing he supposes he wants more is courage.

The psychic smiles. “Ah. Bingo. So—”

“Miya.”

Atsumu whips his head around to find Sakusa standing at the entrance, skillfully ignoring the protests behind him to get in line and wait his turn. Sakusa raises an eyebrow at the situation Atsumu’s found himself in, but saves him from his judgement to state, “Bokuto told me you were in here.”

“Excuse me,” the woman chirps. “We’re in the middle of something.”

“If you think a scam is what’ll solve your problems, then you’re stupider than I thought,” Sakusa says.

Atsumu sighs. “You came here just to tell me that?”

“Well, yeah,” Sakusa shrugs. “There’s a simpler solution to all of this.”

“Okay, well—”

“Talk to them,” Sakusa interrupts, exhausted. “Before they give up.”

Atsumu kisses his teeth, changing his position in his chair so he’s fully facing Sakusa. “Since when were you the type to give advice?”

Sakusa ignores his retort with a shake of his head and a roll of his eyes.

“I have never seen you cower before, Miya,” Sakusa says, and the words are like needles on his skin. “Don’t let the first time you do so be now.”

Atsumu inhales shakily. “I don’t—”

“They got Hinge a few days ago,” Sakusa deadpans. Atsumu stiffens. “Don’t lose to some hack they found on a dating app.”

Atsumu looks from his friend to the clairvoyant before flashing her a sheepish smile and shooting clumsily out of his chair. The words that tumble from his mouth are barely coherent, and the last thing he hears before he exits the tent is Sakusa mumbling moron under his breath.

The journey from the festival to your apartment is a blur. He vaguely recalls running past his friends and returning their questioning shouts with a wave of his hand and getting angry at least two cars who cut him on the road, before he ends up in front of your door, nose tinged red from the cold.

His knocks are insistent.

“I’m coming, God, be patient,” he hears you say before you open the door to see him, and your annoyance is wiped away in seconds.

“Hi,” he says, out of breath from running up three flights of stairs after he got impatient waiting for the elevator. His eyes land on the blanket you’ve wrapped over your shoulders, and his lips quirk up at the familiar pattern. “Didn’t I get you that?”

You tug on the material defensively. “What are you doing here?” you ask. “And what the hell are you wearing? Did you not look at the weather before you left the house? It’s freezing outside, you idiot, you should be wearing a thicker jacket. And your face is so red! And your hands! They’re gonna get all dry if you don’t wear gloves! How many times do I have to tell you to dress for the weather otherwise you’ll get sick and…”

Atsumu rasps, “And?”

You gulp, taking a step back to distance yourself. “And you shouldn’t be here,” you say, sending a knife to his chest. “I thought you were at the festival.”

“That’s why you didn’t come,” he concludes. “Because I was there.”

“Well, what do you expect me to do?” you snap. “I told you I loved you and you looked at me like I was crazy.”

“I didn’t.”

“Whatever,” you bark. “My point still stands. You shouldn’t be here.”

He nods. “I know.”

“Then why are you?”

Eight letters are whispered into the darkness of the entryway, and the world is thrown off-balance.

“I love you,” he says, surprising himself with just how easy the words escape after he lets them, “and I’m so, so sorry.”

Your lips part in surprise. “What?”

“I love you,” he repeats. “And I should’ve told you sooner, but I— I was scared—”

“Then why are you telling me now?”

“I don’t know,” he whispers. “Love conquers all, I guess. My fear included.”

“You came all the way here to tell me that?”

He risks a step towards you and his heart flutters when you don’t move away. “I ran out of a psychic’s tent, too.”

“What?”

“I’ll tell you later,” he murmurs. “That’s not important right now.”

“It sounds pretty important, I mean, you mentioned it and everything.”

“It’s not.”

“What exactly is more important than that?”

“Your forgiveness, actually.”

You huff. “Believe it or not, forgiveness doesn’t come so easily, Atsumu.”

“Can I kiss you, then?” he questions innocently, placing a hand against your cheek. “Will you take that as an apology?”

You still, licking your lips as you try to maintain your defiant stance. “…That won’t work every time you make me mad, you know.”

He tries his best not to smirk. “Is that a yes?”

“I hate you.”

He lets his lips hover over yours, and he’s not sure if the loud heartbeat ringing in his ears is his or yours (or maybe a mixture of both). “Is that yes?” he asks again, searching your eyes for any signs of discomfort.

Your eyes flicker to his mouth and then you mumble, “Yes.”

Atsumu pinches himself before capturing his lips with yours, eager and desperate, to kiss you with enough pent-up want and need to cause you to stumble. He’s gentle in the way he cradles your face, as if the world has found itself in his hands, still beautiful despite how much he’s hurt it.

He’ll make up for hurting you later, but for now he’ll allow himself to be selfish.

I love you, he whispers into your mouth, and you capture the confession with your own and let it live in your beating heart.

I love you, he whispers into your neck as you both stumble into the kitchen, making sure to tattoo the words into your skin so you’ll never forget.

“I love you,” he whispers one last time as the blanket covers you both and he’s sure you’ve lulled to sleep with your ear against his chest and his thumb drawing hearts on your shoulder, “so, so much.”

Slumber takes over you both, blanketing your smiling figures with hope and love.

© fushisagi, 2023. do not translate or plagiarize my works.

#atsumu #miya atsumu #hq #haikyuu #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #atsumu fluff #miya atsumu fluff #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #atsumu angst #miya atsumu angst #haikyuu angst #hq angst #fic: miya atsumu and the chronic lovesick disease

[realm-of-rosie]

💭 ways to develop productivity !!!

i. haikyuu [ tsukishima, kenma, bokuto and how they distract / motivate you ]

ii. fluff + scenarios / headcanons

iii. blog rules | masterlist

iv. ah studying, what i should be doing but i am instead fantasizing about studying. my quality time loving ass loved this HAHAHA also pretend i didnt use fUlL InTentIoN twice ok

[ tsukishima kei ]

"try again,"

"no thank you,"

"shrimpy - "

"don't shrimpy me kei!"

"i will shrimpy you as much as i want until you answer the question,"

"but i don't know anymore," you whine, "all the words and numbers are merging together in my head, i can't tell which is which anymore,"

"you know this one," kei insists, grabbing your face in his hand and smushing your cheeks together, "remember the mnemonic you made?"

he releases your face before reading the question again and at your blank expression, kei sighs, taking his glasses off to stare at you, eye to eye.

"one kiss for every right answer,"

"...what?" you gawk.

"if you get it right, i'll give you a kiss,"

you squint suspicously at your boyfriend and he casually wipes his glasses before putting them on, "would you really?"

"come find out," his voice is teasing and singsong in reply, waving the flash cards in front of you tauntingly, "i'll even ask a new question so you get a fresh start,"

"deal!" you stick your pink out, butterflies fluttering in your stomach when his own links with yours, "just know that i will be so disappointed if you end up lying to me,"

"of course not, never to you," with a clear of his throat another question comes - one you answered with ease at the prospect of a reward.

"see?" kei smirks, "you totally have this,"

"is that all?" you raise your eyebrow, laughing when he pulls you into his arms to press a soft kiss on your lips, his fingers holding you by the chin.

you pull away first to catch a breath, and when you chase his lips again, he tuts.

"the deal was one kiss," he whispers cockily while tracing your bottom lip with his thumb, "that was already one,"

[ kozume kenma ]

"ken, come on, i have to study," you sigh in half amusement, half exasperation because lord did you love your boyfriend but at this moment you wondered if murdering him was worth going to jail for x amount of years.

"so study?" he replies with a nonchalant tone, the clicking of the keys on his switch mixing with the music playing from your headphones.

"you're resting on my lap," you run your fingers through kenma's hair and you swear that almost purred in approval. you chuckle at that thought.

"and?"

"i don't have your concentrating skills,"

"and?"

you give him a deadpan look.

"oh, am i distracting you?"

"so help me god, i will smack that smirk off of your face if you don't get off of my lap,"

"alright, alright," he mumbles grumpily, curling up by himself in the corner of your bed still tapping away at his switch.

you, on the other hand, had slipped your headphones back on with the full intention to make it up to him once the project absorbing every ounce of your attention had finished, leaving yourself completely unaware of anything an everything happening in the room. fully immersed in the document in front of you, you began to work, slowly but surely slipping into an altered state of consciousness, and for a while, you were stuck in your work mindset.

well, that was before kenma snuck (there was actually no sneaking, you just didn't notice him move) into the nook in your desk beside your legs, giving you a mini heart attack when he suddenly leaned on your thigh.

you sigh, kissing your fingertips and passing it to him, in a way, by pressing them against the top of his head and patting him affectionately.

"just a little longer, ok? i promise,"

"take your time," kenma looks up at you with his ever observant cat-like eyes, "i just want to be close to you,"

"i guess i can't say no to you now," you tease, gently pinching his cheek and stroking it when he began to pout.

kenma leans into your touch and you tell yourself:

you totally could finish typing this with one hand.

[ bokuto koutaro ]

"one kiss,"

"bo-" you start to laugh uncontrollably when you lift your head to look at your boyfriend - with the full intention to remind him that you had 5 minutes left until your next break - and the poor little pet the two of you shared that he involved in his quest to distract you.

"we've both been very lonely," bokuto sighs, smushing his face against the small animal he held up and you coo at the expression it had. whether it was displeasure or otherwise, you weren't even sure.

"she's frowning at you," you tease bokuto, glancing back at the open document on your screen and frowning at the red line under one of the words on the word doc, immediately correcting the word.

"she is not!" bokuto gasps, facing your poor pet and kissing its little face, "see?"

there's a moment of silence as you reread the body of your speech, eyebrows furrowing together as you go over one line in particular.

"...you're not looking,"

"hm?" you glance at bokuto then back at the screen before back at your boyfriend's frowny face and droopy hair, reaching out to run your hand through his hair with guilt pooling in your gut, "i'm sorry love, i promise, just a few more minutes-"

you are interrupted by the beeping of your alarm, signaling that it was time for the 30-minute break between your study hours and bokuto perks up immediately, laying your pet in the small play pen you had in your work room at pulling your out of your seat, not allowing you even a second to protest before he hugs you tightly and twirls you around in a circle.

"you're free at last!"

#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #kenma kozume x reader #kenma x reader #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #bokuto x reader #bokuto koutaro x reader

[earthtooz]

cw: fluff with minimal angst, reader and tsumu had an argument, msby4 is there, food mentions, probably bad writing like i just wrote this but i can't remember what i actually wrote which is a little alarming..., unedited and not proofread :,)

<bokuto3: hi it's atsumu

<bokuto3: WHY DOES BOKKUN HAVE YOUR CONTACT AS '<y/n3'?????? OUTRAGEOUS.

<bokuto3: anyways hi it's atsumu

<bokuto3: i miss u :( pls unblock me asap i'm sorry baby please i really am

<bokuto3: please don't be mad at me i thikn i'm lodsing my mind

<bokuto3: call me back. or text me back. unbloc k my email too thanx

<bokuto3: okay bye i luv u to the moon and back

<bokuto3: i'd do anything for u baby pls jyst talk to me again and i'd even swallow hot coals if you asked pls pls pls

<bokuto3: i love you

<bokuto3: i love you

<bokuto3: i love you

<bokuto3: i love you

you: give bokuto his phone back. get back to practice. bye.

<bokuto3: LOVE OF MY LIFE

<bokuto3: NO Y/N PLEASE I MISS YOU SO MUCH DON'T GO

you pocket your phone with a sigh, ignoring the way it continually buzzes with with messages and spam texts, probably just of atsumu professing his undying love for you and grovelling. pretty standard of him after an argument so intense that you had to walk out on before things escalated to places you would regret.

you can't deny that you miss him too, and it's been less than 24 hours since you saw him last.

in fact, you literally saw him this morning when sending him off to practice with a grumbled 'have a good practice' after he kissed over your forehead with a lightness rivalling a feather. a gentleness typically unseen from him.

really, the blond setter was just terrified of irritating you further.

then when you got up half an hour later, you're not pleased to see how atsumu was spamming you with messages, all conveying the messages he was scared of saying earlier. things like 'i love you', 'can't wait to go home to you', or 'did you see the photo of osamu's cat i sent'.

it's sweet, really; he is, but when you're still a little hurt from the harsh exchange you had last night, you didn't want him blowing up your phone this early in the morning.

so your only solution for a peaceful morning was to block him apparently.

something that clearly did not sit well with him because he then started spamming your socials and your emails with protests. did he not have practice to get to? where was all this time coming from?

you blocked him on those platforms too from the goodness of your heart because you had a feeling that he was skipping warmup in order to text you. if he pulled a muscle during practice, you don't want to begin imagining what a pain he'd be to look after.

glancing around the park you were currently strolling through to clear your mind, you only get a second to breathe when your phone starts buzzing again. this time, with a call notification from bokuto.

picking up, you immediately assume that it's atsumu who is bothering you after suffering the blows of how hard you've been ghosting him.

"atsumu for the love of-"

you're cut off of your own sentence when you hear somewhat muffled voices in the background.

"damn you messed up big time!" comes hinata's bubbly voice. you can indistinctly hear someone agreeing in the background- bokuto?

"stop rubbing it in!" atsumu exclaims, whining. you can picture him in your head right now, slouching against the wall as he deflates with each reminder of his mistake.

bokuto must have pocket-dialed you. you're about to hang up until you hear:

"how about you stop being miserable? your relationship with y/n will be fine as long as you apologise, this isn't the end of the world," lectures sakusa.

"for you maybe! ah already feel like y/n's slipping away from my grasp," cries your boyfriend. "and y/n is my world. so really, it does feel like the end of the world."

"you know what they say. love kills," mutters bokuto.

"literally no one has ever said that," sakusa deadpans.

"someone's probably said it."

"well if love does kill can it hurry up with atsumu?"

the dark-haired's simple statement makes you laugh, one that bursts suddenly before you have to cover your mouth from shame, hoping that it didn't disturb anyone.

"hey!" atsumu huffs before you can hear him groan dramatically again. except something's telling you that this isn't for show. "can't ya show a little sympathy to the guy who is having the worst time of his life? my partner doesn't even want to talk to me! i might as well rot right here and now."

"don't do that!" protests bokuto. "i'm sure y/n isn't as mad as you think. just talk to-"

"-what do you think i've been doing this whole time? i've been grovelling-"

"-no, you've been a bitch. i don't think telling y/n to 'text you back' counts as a proper apology."

the setter 'hmphs' and you can imagine the way he's crossing his arms. atsumu never did lose that immature side of him, but he tries, and you adore him for it. "is proclaiming my love not enough?"

"you can say 'i love you' to everyone, idiot, and you can confess your undying adoration for y/n any time. you do it on a regular basis anyways, atsumu, you don't need to double down on it just because you had an argument-"

"-but i'm scared that y/n will forget!"

the blond's outburst stuns everyone into silence. you hear a sniffle.

"what if i'm not worth the time? sometimes i get really scared that y/n might pack up and leave me because there's someone better out there. someone more patient and less of a hassle?"

it's so painfully silent, but each word that atsumu mutters is like a knife to your heart. how long has he felt this way?

hinata is the first to break the awkwardness. "c'mon man, you're literally high school sweethearts. i don't think you have anything to worry about."

"yeah, you're being silly right now, tsum-tsum!" bokuto agrees. "after all this time together, i think y/n has a reason to stay with you!"

"apart from my dashing good looks?"

"stupidity is temporary. get better soon," sakusa grumbles.

"omi-omi you're so mean!"

you hang up the call when you hear atsumu's chirpy tone again, unable to stop a smile from appearing on your own face. so long as he was happy, you were too.

that's what happens when you're soulmates, you suppose.

it's the same soulmate bond responsible for the fact that you were currently waiting outside the gym where msby practices were held, impatiently leaning against a small pole as you pass time on your phone.

then, just as you look up to check if anyone has left the building, your heart stops at the sight of a familiar faux-blond, animatedly chatting to one of his teammates. but when he meets your gaze, it takes him less than a fraction of a second to charge towards you.

instead of bracing for impact, you open your arms for him to tackle into, an offer he takes immediately.

as you both stumble backwards from the momentum, atsumu revels in your laughter and cherishes the feeling he gets knowing that everything is okay between you two. you chose to greet him after practice, you chose to go the somewhat inconvenient route all the way to his gym, you chose him and he hopes you never consider another option again.

and you won't. atsumu loves too hard and too well, warming you from the inside out to defrost any pain the coldness of life might leave you with. although he sometimes gets insecure about this overbearing trait of his, you get to show him each time just how beautiful it is; to wear your heart on your sleeve and love the world for what it is.

to love you for who you are.

"i'm sorry," he begins. "for what ah said last night, i was a real dick."

you smile. "well if you're really sorry, you'd let me take you out for some food, right?"

"only if it's your favourite."

"okay, sap. let's go then."

you think you hear atsumu whisper a 'thank you for letting me love you' before pulling him away.

#i wrote this while fighting for my life evidently #enjoy/?? i think???? idrk... #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x you #atsumu x you #miya atsumu fluff #miya atsumu fic #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq x reader #hq memes #hq drabble #atsumu fluff

[lowkeyremi]

Happy Birthday kenma x fem!reader

note: this is my first time writing real smut, i think. tell me what u guys think. i need feedback so i can get better. also had my friends proofread this for me, that's how anxious i am lol

Word count: 1.2k

CW: smut 18+, unprotected sex, P -> V sex, quickie, kissing, kenma is a whore and a lazy mf, reader has fem parts and is referred to as a girl, creampie, you pull his hair once, pet names.

divider cred: kithsune

"Ken! They're waiting for you what in the-" Your boyfriend, the birthday boy, is hurling you down the stairs... Into the little closet under the stairs to hide from his friends.

"I don't wanna hear Kuroo and Bokuto's shitty happy birthday singing." He mumbles quietly to you. Kuroo somehow has impeccable hearing. It's easy for him to pick your boyfriend out of a crowd with no problem.

"Oh come on Kenma, you listen to them sing every year. This one won't be any different." The closet provides no light and is stuffy. Even though you can't see your boyfriend you know there's a big pout on his face.

"Please.. it's so embarrassing. They always record it because they know I hate it." He grabs your hand, squeezing softly. His face is so close to yours you can feel his warm breath tickle your skin.

"Okay, then what do you suggest we do? They're gonna start looking for us soon. I'm sure the closet is kind of an obvious spot." One thing you'd never take into account when first dating Kenma was his sneakiness. So of course when you feel his hand slip up your shirt you gasp in shock.

"In the closet?" The disbelief in your voice caused a soft chuckle to escape the gamer's throat. You've watched him become more of a man every day, little by little. His deep voice reminds you of how in high school Kenma's voice was high pitched. He was the definition of puberty.

"Yeah, I haven't had you today because you've spent all day planning this dumb party. I think I'm ready for my birthday present."

He can't see you but he knows your body well enough to find those plush lips and plant a sloppy kiss on them. You meet his lips trying to match his slow pace. If you were being honest you wanted him too.. all day long.

His hands move from your tummy down to your ass, giving it a little squeeze. "I love your ass." He says opening his mouth while you continue to give him open-mouthed kisses along his pretty face.

"I think I can tell." You wrap your arms around his neck, placing little kisses on his neck. You know he likes it.

You're still unsure of doing this, mainly because all of Kenma's friends are not too far from the closet that has no lock on it. Things could easily go south. Kuroo would love to get in on the action if he were to find you guys, he has before.

A slim finger hooks onto your waistband and slowly pulls at it. "Quit being a tease. If we're doing this, then hurry up." Kenma only smirks at your sudden urgency.

Kenma closes the distance, his voice soft in your ear, "Calm down momma." He's playing dirty now.

He knows that nickname makes you fold. Every. Damn. Time. With your brain being slightly clouded he's able to take control.

You were suddenly grateful for the lack of light in the closet because you weren't planning to wear any cute panties until all the guests left.

He caresses your thigh, dragging out the growing arousal in your gut. There's most likely a wet spot on your panties right now.

"Is it bad I'm already hard?" His voice is hoarse even though you guys haven't done anything yet.

"Stop playing, touch me, Ken." You whine getting fed up with his incessant teasing.

"Okay, princess, whatever you want." Without wasting any time your panties are pulled down and two of Kenma's fingers find your dripping cunt.

He's quick to push his fingers in. It hurts just a little bit but the pain goes away as his fingers work you open. "Hah, so good cuz of my skillful gam-"

"Fuck- if you say your 'skillful gamer hands' I'm going to leave this closet." Kenma knows you won't leave the closet, not when he's fucking you so good with his fingers.

Your boyfriend continues at a quick pace. To stay upright you have one hand gripping his shoulder, while your other reaches to rub sloppy circles into your clit.

"So pretty when you touch yourself." He moans rather loudly. It takes him by surprise when you stop touching yourself to cover his mouth. Your juices get on his face.

"Shhhh. Your loud ass is gonna get us caught." Instead of listening to your warning, he tries to push you over the edge. His other hand finds your clit that you abandoned. You would think that his movement would be sloppy, but yet here he is being precise with the way he fucks you with his fingers.

This time around you let out a moan, not as loud as Kenma's. You've concluded that your boyfriend is kind of a slut for you.

Kenma knows that you're getting close. The way your breathing changes, the way you desperately clutch to him, the way you stumble on your words, he loves all of it.

"Getting close?" He teased.

You don't say anything- or more like you can't say anything. Pleasure clouds your mind. All you want is to cum.

"Hah- can't cum yet baby. 's my birthday." With that statement, he pulls his fingers out of your cunt to admire the slick on them.

The blonde pulls his cock free from those restraining pants of his. A small groan escapes those plush lips of his when he thumbs at his slit. And he doesn't warn you before entering your pussy.

You gasp rather loudly, his cock filling you up to the brim just the way you like it.

Kenma lets out the loudest moan ever when he feels your tight pussy squeeze him. You count about a minute before he starts to move.

His thrusts aren't calculated as usual. Kenma is a very smart person and weighs out his options before doing something, but when it comes to you, he always loses himself. He calls you the most dangerous weapon.

The grip you have on his shoulders is deadly. You decide to kiss him, only to shut up his loud moans.

Kenma continues at this uneven pace, fucking up into your dripping cunt. You move one hand into his hair to pull at it.

"Shit, Mommy- feels so good," Kenma whines into your ear and you melt on the spot.

Kenma feels you squeeze his cock more than you did before. Your eyes screw shut and you see white.

"I'm gonna-"

Kenma beats you to it by a few seconds. That pretty cock of his paints your insides white, not slowing down for a second. The sounds your bodies make slapping against each other are loud and obnoxious.

You're quick to cum after him, pleasure taking over your body, which almost gave out and it wasn't even crazy sex.

"Ken, we... we gotta hurry up. I'll go change and-"

Kenma finds your panties, and pulls them back up, a sinister smile growing. "Be good mama, don't let them know what we were doing."

"You don't expect me to go out there full of-"

"Hell yeah, I do." He pulls his boxers and pants up.

In the closet, he grabs your hand while leading you out.

end note: idk how to feel abt this.. ik its my first time. but i still dont like it lol. tell me what u think

#kozume kenma haikyuu #kenma kozume haikyuu #kenma smut #kozume kenma x reader #kenma x reader #kenma kozume x f!reader #kozume kenma #kozume kenma smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu!! smut #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #kenma kozume x reader fluff #hq kenma #kenma #kenma kuzome #kodzuken #haikyuu x reader

[emmyrosee]

lol Brandon Farris and Maria Gloria wrote this 💅🏼

——

You don’t film specific videos with Kenma often, but when you do, it’s usually at his expense.

For this installation of his quarterly stream, he’s got you set up with an eye tracker just beside him. Naturally, you’re decked out in Kodzuken merch, and he can’t stop looking at it as he explains the rules.

“So- there’s gonna be two sides. One side is gonna have one picture, the other of another one-“

“Revolutionary, Kenma.”

“-Shut the hell up. Anyways, your going to look at one of them; if you look at the one of me, or the picture on the left, it’s free. If you look at the right one, I have to give 5 subs. Got it?”

“One question.”

“Sure.”

“Why do you set yourself up for failure?”

Kenma looks you up and down, “because I already settled for you.” You jaw drops in faux offense while he sets up the pictures. “Okay- cover your eyes.” Your hands come up to childishly cover your eyes, and Kenma is quick to set up the first set of images.

One of him in a compression shirt, post workout with sweat making the fabric cling impossibly closer to his muscles.

The other, of Maesi at just a small 8 months old.”

“Alright babe. Open.”

Your eyes do, and they small orbs tracking your eyes dart to your child.

“Awww, my baby,” you coo, hands coming up to your mouth as you look at the picture of Maesi while he pouts next to you.

“Wow… thought you would look at me, not gonna lie,” he snickers, adding five gifted subs to his total. In his monitor, he sees your eye tracker finally dart to his picture, fixating on his abs. “Yeah no, that one glance of our infant cost me 25 damn bucks, let’s try again.” You laugh next to him and gently clutch his arm affectionately.

In the next slide, there’s a picture of him in a worn out nekoma hoodie, and a picture of Bokuto in his MSBY jersey-

Inconveniently, your eyes dart to Bokuto’s hair.

“Babe.”

“I’m sorry!” You cackle. “His hair is just stupidly exciting, it’s a habit.”

“You see my luscious hair every day, and you pick his?”

You suck in a breath and Kenma glares at you. “Luscious?”

“Im gonna leave you.” He tacks on another five subs, and he looks over at you in playful offense. “I’m letting you know now; this next one is Toppo and Appa snuggling. If you look at them, this stream is over.”

“Why on gods decaying earth would you tell me that?” You whine. “Now I wanna see my little kitty and puppyyyy.”

“I am your Kitty. So shush.” With that, Kenma’s index finger clicks onto the next slide, and he’s gotta give you credit, your eyes dart to his side finally, then immediately dash to the picture of Appa sleeping in a ball, with Toppo curled on top in an extremely similar fashion. “At least you looked at me first.”

He adds one gifted sub to the total, trying to ignore your snickering next to him.

“But look at how cute they are-“

“Don’t try to save yourself,” he says, clearly trying to hide the smile in his voice.

“Okay,” You giggle.

This continues for more than Kenma would like- as amusing as he finds it.

One look at him. Another look at him. One look at an anime poster. Another look at a random picture of a panda bear.

He’d love to pretend that this is annoying him; but his teasing of you and your laughter and rapid explaining have him cackling to his own self.

The last picture is, naturally, the biggest test, and Kenma gives you a look before clicking the next link. It’s a picture of him, asleep with a newborn Maesi on his chest and hair sprawled everywhere- it’s one you took of him when you first brought her home. On the other side, is a stupid picture of the stupid actor you stupidly like so stupidly much.

Your eyes dart to him and Maesi. And he immediately leaps up, cheering and thrilled as you laugh at the reaction. “SHE LOVES ME, CHAT! WE FUCKIN’ DID IT! WE RIIIIIIDE!”

“Dramatic ass!” You snort, laughing in your hands while he celebrates in the background. “It’s because you had Spawn in your picture.”

“Worth it. Whoo!” He sits down next to you and leans over to kiss your cheek, arm tossing around you to keep you close. You titter and try to shrug him away, “the only woman to exist ever. The love of my life. Beautiful mother of my child.” The chat floods with donations and cheers, but all he can focus on is your playful bats against him. “Game over. I’ve won. Next task chat.”

“You’re annoying.”

“And you looked at me.”

#kenma kozume #kenma kozume fluff #kenma kozume x reader #kenma kozume x f!reader #kenma kozume x reader fluff #kenma kozume imagine #kenma kozume haikyuu #kenma #kenma fluff #kenma x reader #kenma x reader fluff #kenma x f!reader #kenma imagine #kenma haikyuu #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x female reader #haikyuu x f!reader #haikyuu x yn #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you

[irisintheafterglow]

hello…………..kiyoomi crumbs pls

ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE

*patting the hood of a car* this bad boy can hold so much bf!sakusa

cw: swearing and the msby jackals being idiots

you checked your phone again and prayed you weren't keeping him waiting for a long time.

"hi, is omi still in there?"

"he should be just about finishing up, but you can go ahead. you know your way around the place by now," the security guard states warmly, giving you the go-ahead to navigate the back halls of the gym to the men's locker room. even if you did find yourself lost, it'd be easy to get to your destination by simply following the banter of your boyfriend's three very spirited teammates. their voices grow louder with every step and you have to stifle a laugh when you start to pick up the bits and pieces of their conversations.

"and then she told me i was being delusional! can you imagine? me? delusional?"

"remind us all when you met this girl, atsumu?"

"...last week."

"dare i say, she has a point," deadpans the smooth, low voice of your boyfriend. he always knew the best ways to press atsumu's buttons, making it very difficult to invite his friends over for dinner without harmless arguing occurring at the kitchen table. "it's okay; i'm sure you'll find another 'love of your life' next week."

"shoyo, the fuck are you doin' with my shirt?"

"can you all please put clothes on? if sakusa's partner walks in here and all of you are naked-"

"i'm not naked!"

"we know you're not, bokuto, but atsumu needs to put his tits away before i cut them off with scissors," kiyoomi quips and you fail to muffle your snort from around the corner. the room quiets in an instant and you hear a faint fuck before he finally comes to find you. he's still slightly sweaty from practice, all toned muscle and messy hair and bright eyes that only twinkle for you. "hi, beautiful."

"hey, handsome. you done threatening physical violence in there?" your eyebrow quirks in question and he shakes his head tiredly, tugging you into him by the belt loops of your pants. your arms rest on his shoulders, brushing stray curls from his forehead.

"not yet. i still have some unfinished business."

"mmm, with razors, i hear." you nod in solemn understanding and his mouth quirks into a half-smile, another expression of his that was reserved only for you. his lips press a kiss to your temple in a rare show of public affection, inhaling your presence with his eyes shut contentedly. "i could be wrong, but a federal offense will probably screw up your olympic prospects."

"if you tell me to do it, i'll do it," he murmurs absentmindedly and you chuckle under your breath.

"what, murder atsumu or not murder atsumu?"

"dealer's choice." he places one more kiss on your nose before resting his forehead against yours like he'd been away from you for decades. to you, it was a few hours; but, to him, it felt like a century. "i missed you a lot."

"i can tell. you're very affectionate tonight." his forehead scrunches in confusion at the implication of your statement.

"what am i, a cat?" the incredulity in his voice makes you giggle and, despite his best efforts to remain stoic, you can tell he's fighting back a smile too.

"in some ways, yes. you do tend to leave hair all over our couch, and you make a lot of noise when you're hungry." he makes a proud noise in the back of his throat and lightly pinches the flesh of your sides in defiance.

"i'll buy us a new one if you want me to," he promises. you stopped sharing product ads with omi on instagram because he tended to buy you anything that you sent him, even if it was just a funny little trinket you saw on an etsy shop. these items included but were not limited to stationary, plushies, athleticwear, and, of course, furniture.

"you don't need to do that."

"maybe i already have."

"thanks for letting me know that your newest love language is buying me a sofa."

"my love language is doing whatever you want me to do, angel." you both jump when a loud crash comes from the locker room around the corner, followed by hinata's panicked rambling and bokuto saying "that was fucking epic!" atsumu, you'd guess, is either the culprit or the object that caused the crash. you gently push omi's sturdy shoulders away and he groans in protest. "do i have to?"

"wrangle your team, put some proper clothes on, and take me to dinner, lover boy."

"as you wish."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#sakusa x reader #sakusa x you #sakusa x y/n #kiyoomi x reader #kiyoomi x you #kiyoomi x y/n #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x you #sakusa kiyoomi x y/n #haikyu x you #haikyu x y/n #haikyu x reader #haikyu fluff #haikyu crack #ask iris!

[skiiyoomin]

Hey I just saw that your requests are open and the haikyuu brainrot is hitting me once more. Could I request some content energetic bbs Noya, Bokuto, and Hinata (separate) and the reader taking care of them when all that energy finally runs out and they crash? I'm in desperate need of fluff lmao

yes ma´am 🫡 some fluffy energetic bbys brainrot coming right up

am i procrastinating my exams to do this? yes, yes i am

warnings: nothing, just tooth rotting fluff

RULES !!

DO NOT COPY OR REPOST MY WORK PLEASE

REQUESTS: OPEN

NAVIGATION

WHO DO I WRITE FOR?

---------------------------------

Taking care of them when they run out of energy

Nishinoya Yuu

Noya is like a literal babyyy. He loves loves lovesss when you pamper him and baby him. Especially during those moments where all he needs is a little silence and your comfort cause he doesn´t have one single ounce of energy left. He loves crashing down on the sofa, his head on your lap and your fingers through his ginger hair.

"Long day?"

Your soft honey like voice drifts to his ears, and all he can manage to respond is a small low hum.

He feels like he absolutely won in life when you not only move away to prepare a warm bath for him, but you also slip inside the tub behind him and wrap your arms around his torso. He melts like puddy when your soft hands begin to massage his scalp while you make sure the shampoo reaches his roots, and in his mind, he questions if that was what heaven felt like.

You had to coax him into getting out of the tub after a long while passed, your skin pruned and the bath no longer as warm. Though honestly, Noya could´ve stayed like that forever, however, the image of you cuddled up under the safety and warmth of the bedsheets sounded far more tempting. So, with groggy movements, he stepped out and wrapped a towel around his waist.

He may be small, but he was not light, and in his dazed like state, he didn´t seem to remember as he all but plops down right on top of you. Were it any other day, you would´ve shoved him off, but the way his eyelids fluttered close and his lips seemed to be in a permanent pout were too cute. So, adjusting your position so you could at least breathe, you run your hand up and down his back, your other playing with his soft locks. And just like that, he was out like a light.

Bokuto Koutarou

You knew the second you started dating Bokuto, that you´d be in for a rollercoaster of emotions. You had become accostumed to his wide range of emtions that seemed to appear at the most sudden times. Nevertheless, there were days where his energy seemed to be on a constant low. He moved in slow sluggish motions and not a single thought seemed to pass through his mind.

You found out that one of his favorite things that you do at times like this is giving him a looong massage. His body would be flopped face down on the comfort of your bed while you oiled up his bare back. He´d expressed to you many times that he was convinced your hands were made by the very gods, because when they slowly massaged the tense muscled of his back, he felt like he was on cloud 9.

You´d make your way up until you reached his broad shoulders and neck. Small muffled groans would be heard from him every once in a while, but he´d mostly remain uncharacteristically quiet.

If he didn´t pass out from your massage, because trust me, he has passed out many times before, then you´d watch a random movie while he nuzzled into your warm body. His soft breaths tickled the sensitive skin of your neck and his buff arms wrapped around your body, like a bear engulfing you in a hug.

Every once in a while you´d press your soft lips to his forehead, or you´d run your fingers through his bicolored strands. And I can assure you that with a couple more sweet kisses, he´d be out like a light, his soft snores filling the silence of the room.

"I love you"

You whisper, pressing one last kiss to the crown of his head before you too, fall into deep slumber with your big baby in your arms.

Hinata Shoyo

If there´s one thing Shoyo loves more than anything in this world, it´s your cooking. And there´s nothing like your homemade food on a day where he can´t give his fullest.

He had spent the entire day jumping around, his energy at it´s peak. But the more it had dragged on the more he wished he could speed off back home and rest in your loving arms.

He was sprawled across the couch, his tired half lidded eyes boring into whatever was playing on the TV, he couldn´t even process anything. He feels the couch dip beside him, and when he turns his head, he finds you with a bowl of your homemade ramen in your hands. The steam wafted into the air and to his nostrils. He could already taste it in his toungue, making his stomach rumble.

However, he´s slightly surprised when you move the bowl away when he tries to reach out for it.

"Let me take care of you"

Is all you mutter. That´s how he finds himself curled up on the couch while you feed him the ramen, making sure to blow on the food each time you picked up a portion of it.

His heart fluttered when you pampered him this way. Or when you put away the bowl after he eats it all up and when you pepper slow kisses around his entire face. They werent rushed or overwhelming like they normally were. No, these were precise, like you were deliberately making sure to kiss every inch of his skin.

During these times, he absolutely needs to be the little spoon. He likes the feeling of being taken care of. The way your arms would wrap around his torso, your warm breath tickling the nape of his neck and making his spine shudder ever so slightly.

It´s in these moments where, as he´s drifting off to sleep with, he really feels an overwhelming sense of love and adoration for you

#headcanons #masterlist #skiiyoomin #haikyū!! #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #hinata shoyo #hinata shouyou #bokuto koutarou #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x you #haikyu fluff #hinata fluff #haikyuu shoyo #hq shoyo #shoyohinata #shoyo x reader #hinata shoyuo #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata shoyo haikyuu #hinata shoyo fluff #bokuto x reader #haikyuu bokuto #hq bokuto #bokuto koutaro x reader #bokuto fluff #bokuto kōtarō #nishinoya yuu #nishinoya x reader #haikyuu nishinoya

[cottonlemonade]

Jealous At Training Camp [part 2]

synopsis: the team finds out that Kuroo asked you on a date (same day)

part 1

____________________________________________

“Come in!“, Kuroo called when he heard someone knock at the door. He was currently standing in front of the mirror, trying to decide which shirt to wear.

Lev’s lanky shape appeared and he joined Kenma on one of the makeshift beds. The setter took a rare gaming break (his console had to charge) and instead flipped through a random manga one of his teammates had left next to their bed. In short, he was being of absolutely no help even though Kuroo had summoned him to help choose an outfit. Lev frowned at his captain, “Where are you off to so late?“

“Going to a movie.“, Kuroo answered evasively. He noticed the gray-haired menace visibly deflating.

“With Sawamura-san and Bokuto-san?“, he asked, a definite pout in his voice, adding with a mumble, “I wanted to practice my spikes a bit more.”

“No.“, Kuroo smiled at him in the reflection of the mirror, holding up a graphic T with a science pun printed across the chest, “Actually, I am meeting y/n-san.“

“What did I just hear?“

Inuoka popped his head through the door, throwing the older boy a knowing grin.

Kuroo groaned inwardly. He really wasn‘t feeling like getting everyone involved until he knew there was something to get them involved in. But he also knew Inuoka was unlikely to let it go.

“Maybe you should go with something a bit cooler.“, the fellow middle blocker suggested, letting himself drop down next to Kenma on the bed, “Like a button down.”

Kuroo gave him a look. “You’re right. Let me check - oh wait, I left my classy attire in my other sports bag.”, he said sarcastically. Inuoka raised his hands in defeat (although the captain did exchange the graphic T for a plain black one).

“Which movie will you guys see?“, Lev asked.

“Who is this?“, Tora, who had walked past the now completely open door, swerved to be part of the conversation.

“Kuroo-san has a date.“, Inuoka informed in an affectionate tone a mother might use when she sent her son off to his first day of preschool.

“Oooooooh.“ The newcomer leaned in the doorframe, crossing his arms, looking over the chosen outfit approvingly. “And who is the lucky lady?“

Before Kuroo could stop him, Lev answered “Y/n-san.“ putting lots of emphasis on each syllable.

Tora raised a surprised brow. “Our manager?! I didn’t even know you were into her!“

“Then you were the only one. As per usual.”, Kenma muttered, scanning the manga panels with little interest.

“Who’s Kuroo-san into?“ Fukunaga, called over by the commotion coming from the Nekoma bedroom, joined Tora in the doorway.

“Do you all really have nothing better to do?“, Kuroo asked exasperatedly, fixing his hair (as much as possible).

“No.“, Tora and Inuoka replied in unison.

“Okay, listen. Yes, I have a date. Yes, it is with our manager. Yes, I am nervous. Now, can we please drop it? I have to leave in like five minutes.“

Silence.

“So will you bring flowers?“

“GET OUT!“

____________________________________________

For that one person who asked for a part 2 xD

✨ @hotvinimon ✨

#kuroo x chubby reader #haikyuu x chubby reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #hq kuroo #chubby reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #kuroo testuro #kuroo tetsurou x chubby reader #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo fluff #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou

[missmeinyourbones]

haikyuu boys as icks

because my favorite thing is humbling men and fictional men are no exception | aot version & jjk version

atsumu:

does that thing where he "forgets to know your name" so he doesn't look obsessed with you, but in reality he just looks like a douchebag LOL he's comes up to you all nonchalant like "y/n, right?" as if he doesn't follow you on ig and like all of ur pics....and he thinks it makes him look so cool and popular and mysterious and then u look him dead in the eye and ur like "yeah, you're osamu, right?" he's humbled very quickly

osamu:

when he’s really tired or clingy, he talks in a baby voice :/ sometimes even refers to himself in the third person :/ just typing this rn is making me frown with disappointment. like yeah atsumu may be the more dramatic twin, but thats only bc he’s shameless in public. behind closed doors, osamu is right there w/ him. you find him pouting on the couch after a long day like “osamu wants cuddles >:(” or “can we make dinner together i’m hungwy >:(” big offender of the “sowwy” and “pwease” agenda. arrest him

suna:

is the embodiment of that one trend where you tell guys they look like they can’t swim and they get so unnecessarily defensive about it LOL. you say he “gives off a vibe that he can’t swim that well” and hes DISTRAUGHT...immediately whipping out all of his cards to prove you wrong like “obviously i can swim, wtf let’s go find a public pool rn and i’ll show you how good i can swim” also gets you back in such a ruthless way like “okay, but i can. and you look like you don’t know how to read.” feelings end up hurt on both ends :/

hinata:

whenever you guys go to the store, he holds up the line because he’s like “oh, i have a coupon for that!!! :)” but it's never convenient at all. it could be for the most minuscule or absurd products too, like toilet paper or ballpoint pens, and he’s digging through his wallet once you guys reach the register. like baby AREN’T YOU A PRO ATHLETE???? i think you can afford the extra $1.42 for granola bars. you bring up the idea of him having the coupon ready before he gets in line and he’s like “idk i don't wanna hold it for that long 🥱”

kageyama:

LEAVES HIS BEARD HAIR IN THE SINK AFTER SHAVING. oh my god, i am making myself angry rn. you rinse it out every single time and when you ask him if he knows what happens to all of his little trimmings, he’s just like “idk....i guess they just evaporate or slide down over time” when you literally clean up after him like a maid :I he makes me sick (inspired by that one tiktok of the oblivious husband and knowing wife)

bokuto:

doesnt understand politics so he just labels himself as “non-political” which comes across as him just being douchey :/ it makes him look so ignorant when he first tells you :/ like a man who thinks he’s too good to be socially and politically aware bc it doesn't affect him / when in reality, politics just really isn't his forte academically and he’s never learned the basics of it :/ because he is really smart ok i stand by this!!!! he’s a scholar and a college grad...he just only focuses on his areas of interest. take a gov course baby expand ur horizons

akaashi:

if you ask him those silly hypothetical relationship questions (the ones where you just want him to say something sweet, something that proves he loves you) he is not having it in the slightest. you ask him “would you still love me if i was a worm?” and he’s deadly serious like “no? one, that's not even possible. two, if i’m ever attracted to a worm then i need to be constrained and arrested. three, i think that’s really wrong for you to expect me to seamlessly deal with that big of a transition in our relationship--” and you have to be like OH MY GODDD OKAYYYYY IT WAS A TEST!!!  AND YOU FAILED!!!

kuroo:

millennial core LOLLLLLLL im sorry. he posts a pic of him after he gets his hair cut and captions it “just did a thing! :P” EWWWW my toes are curling rn. he takes his selfies from the highest mom facebook angle and does the signature middle aged white man smirk. if he ever films a video of himself it’s so cringy bc he does the millennial zoom in and talks as if he’s a movie protagonist. attends a single work meeting and claims he’s “adulting 😂” at the ripe age of 27

oikawa:

when he really likes you, he does that thing where he's like "you're just not like other girls/people!!!! you're so different!!!!!!" you do basic human things like don't constantly wear makeup or eat whatever you please and he's like "i love how you can be so real around me, you're so quirky <3" you shave your legs or do your hair and he’s like “baby you don’t have to do all of this for me!!!!” he’s never touched a woman in his life. self unaware king 

iwaizumi: 

swears that period cramps are not that bad and that people who get periods over-exaggerate to make men (or people who don’t get periods in general) feel guilty about not dealing with them. believes with his entire chest that “getting kicked in the balls” is equivalent to the pain of childbirth. one day you jokingly buy one of those period cramp simulator machines and hook him up to it. he's all “i’m gonna be fine babe” and “it probably just feels like a stomach ache”.... he doesnt get past the 3rd setting and is holding back tears when you finally turn it off 

#hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq headcanons #haikyuu headcanons #atsumu x reader #atsumu headcanons #osamu x reader #osamu headcanons #suna x reader #suna headcanons #hinata x reader #hinata headcanons #kageyama x reader #kageyama headcanons #bokuto x reader #bokuto headcanons #akaashi x reader #akaashi headcanons #kuroo x reader #kuroo headcanons #oikawa x reader #oikawa headcanons #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi headcanons

[hqbaby]

sixteen — this is real

fuck ur instincts — suna x reader & atsumu x reader

you and suna are just fooling around—so why does he care so much when you start falling in love with someone else?

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 1.5k content. swearing, pretty tame tbh

him: wanna come over tonight?

y/n the love of my life: sorry!! got plans

Suna can’t help the frown that takes over his features as he stares at your message. It’s not a big deal. You’ve turned him down before, this isn’t anything special. In fact, this is completely normal. Did he really expect you to drop everything going on in your life for him? Of course not.

Logic doesn’t stop it from bothering him though. The truth is that he hasn’t been alone with you since you left him that one night. Sure, he sees you around friends but you never really talk because you’re not supposed to be this close. Sure, it’s only been four days since that night but still. It unsettles him, it makes him feel like he doesn’t know where the two of you stand.

“Sorry, Bo, I got plans with Y/N tonight.”

Suna’s head shoots up to find Atsumu grinning at their teammate. What?

Bokuto waves it off. “No biggie, bro!” he says. “Say hi to her for me.”

“Will do.” Atsumu closes his locker and turns to look at Suna. “Ya good, man?”

So he’s your “plans,” Suna thinks. It makes him want to hurl. He hates it.

“Yeah,” he manages to say, already sprinting out of the locker room. “I’m fine.”

He’s not fine. He feels like he’s burning from inside out at the thought of you ditching him for Atsumu. Fucking Atsumu. Don’t you know that he used to cry after science exams? That he had to take his driving test four times? That he and Osamu once spent an entire week finishing a 10,000 piece puzzle while everyone else thought they had died?

Suna slams his head on his steering wheel. It doesn’t matter if you know any of that. All that matters is that you’re choosing Atsumu. Instead of him.

He pulls his phone out and starts typing a message to some girl who gave him her number at a party. She wouldn’t say no to him. He knows she wouldn’t. And that’s why he can’t bring himself to send the message, why he throws his phone on the passenger seat and drives back home instead of doing anything stupid.

Kiyoko reaches her leg out and pokes you with her toe. “What’s up with you?”

You glance up from the lab report you’re working on, bemused. “With me?” you ask. “Not much, dude. What about you?”

She gives you a knowing look. “You’re so full of shit.”

“Am not!”

“You’re withholding gossip!” she accuses, grinning as she points a finger at you. “Come on! I need to know what’s going on!”

You put your laptop away. “Nothing’s going on!” you tell her, but there’s a smile in your voice that says otherwise. “Well, nothing too crazy at least.”

“Tell me!”

You start laughing as your roommate hops onto your bed, grabbing one of your pillows while she looks at you eagerly. “It’s really nothing,” you say. “‘Tsumu just kinda sorta… asked me to be his girlfriend.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Yes, you are,” she says. “Because if he actually did that, you wouldn’t be seeing him tonight.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because you said no to him. You’re nice, you don’t string guys along after you turn them down.”

You stare at her. She stares at you. You stare at her. She cocks her head to the side. You give a small nod.

“Holy shit!” she exclaims. “You said yes?!”

“Not yet!”

“Yet?!”

You’re laughing as she tries to tackle you. “Dude, chill!” you say. “We don’t know what’s gonna happen!”

She shakes her head, hands on your shoulders as she rattles you around. “You have to tell me,” she says, leaning close enough to make her already-wide eyes look wider, “do you love him?”

“I don’t know!” you say, pushing her away.

You furrow your brows at the words that fall out of your mouth. You were supposed to say no. Why didn’t you say no?

“You don’t know?”

“Are you using me as an excuse to avoid your homework?” you ask in an attempt to change the subject.

“Doesn’t matter!” she says. “Wait. What about Suna?”

You wince. 

The truth is that you don’t know what’s going to happen with Suna. You’ve been avoiding him ever since the night that you decided not to stay over. You still see him when you hang out with his friends and go visit his team, but you never talk to him, sticking to your usual polite-but-not-close relationship in public.

It’s been eating you alive and you don’t really know why. You’re going to have to talk to him eventually, about Atsumu, about everything. It shouldn’t be a big deal, but for some reason, it feels like it is. Why?

“If I say yes to Atsumu,” you say carefully, “I guess things with Rin will be over.”

It hits you as soon as you say it.

Over.

It seems so final, so unnecessary. Surely, there’s a better way to do this. This can’t be it.

Kiyoko looks thoughtful, like she’s considering her words very carefully. Then, she asks, “How do you feel about that? You know, ending things with Suna.”

You shrug. This time you know you mean it when you say, “I don’t know.”

You’re sitting in Atsumu’s car with your head leaned against the window. You haven’t planned anything special tonight, just eating take-out and driving around. Normally, you’d be talking each other’s ears off, but you can’t seem to focus right now.

Ever since your talk with Kiyoko that afternoon, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about Suna. It bugs you more than you know it should and that only makes it worse.

“Yer quiet tonight,” Atsumu says. His voice isn’t accusatory or harsh, like he’s just making an observation. “Somethin’ botherin’ ya?”

You chew your bottom lip and fiddle with the straw of your drink. “Yeah. Just a little.”

He hums. “Do ya wanna talk about it?”

“I don’t know if I can,” you tell him quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothin’ to apologize for,” Atsumu says, glancing over to give you a reassuring smile. He finds a spot near the lake on campus and parks nearby. “We can talk about anythin’ ya want. Or not. We can just sit here and eat. That’s okay too.”

He turns the engine off and rolls the windows down, the autumn air drifting in. There are a few other people in the area, groups of friends daring each other to dive into the lake and couples talking or getting into arguments. It’s a night like any other and, as you sit there eating and listening to the playlist you and Atsumu put together, you know you wouldn’t mind spending more of your time like this.

“Have you ever had to let something go?”

The question just falls out of you. It fills the gaps in the air like it was always meant to be there. Like it was something you were always meant to ask.

“Anythin’ in particular?” he asks, taking a sip of his drink.

You look out the window and see a girl, soaked to the bone, walk out of the lake before chasing after her friends. 

“A person,” you say, “after you realized that you wanted different things.”

“Yer not talkin’ ‘bout me are ya?” His tone is teasing.

You shake your head and smile at him. “No.”

You catch the way he looks at you. His gaze is soft and warm and kind. It makes you feel like you’re all that matters to him at this moment. Like the rest of the world is just static. 

The only other person who ever looked at you that way was Suna and he only noticed when he was inside you in one way or another.

It feels different when Atsumu does it. It makes you feel like you matter just by existing.

“So,” you say, trying to stop yourself from focusing too much on the look on his face, “have you ever had to let someone go?”

He considers your question for a moment. “I have,” he tells you. “‘Samu actually.”

That catches you off-guard. The twins are absolutely inseparable, as far as you know. “‘Samu?”

“Yeah.” He nods, getting into it now. “In highschool I thought that we were gonna do volleyball together forever. I couldn’t imagine a world where I’d have to go at it without ‘im, but that’s what happened.

“I was so mad.” He chuckles, clearly recalling a fond—or maybe not so fond—memory. “We got in a big fight and… it wasn’t pretty.”

You nod along, the story distracting you from any thoughts of Suna. “What happened?”

Atsumu sighs. “I had to get used to it,” he tells you. “We had different dreams and it wasn’t right that I pushed mine on ‘im. It wasn’t ‘Samu’s job to change and I wasn’t bein’ fair to either of us by thinking he would.”

He offers you a smile, all boyish and a little shy. He knows the vulnerability should irk him, but he can’t bring himself to care. Not when he’s talking to you. Not when you’re looking at him all nice and understanding and so fucking gorgeous.

You lean over the console and kiss him. It’s short and sweet but it means everything to the two of you.This is real, you tell yourself. You don’t know much else but you know that this—you and Atsumu and all the little spaces in between, this—is as real as you’re going to get.

notes. THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM *mic drops and runs for the hills*

#hqbaby.fyi #hqbaby #haikyuu #suna rintarou #suna #suna rintarou x reader #suna x reader #miya atsumu #atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #suna rintarou fic #suna fic #miya atsumu fic #atsumu fic #haikyuu fic

[fluorescentadolescent1]

can you write a red one-shot with sakusa from haikyuu? Love you<33

I love you so much more for asking sakusa, I hope you enjoy it!

❝ 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦❞

: The miya's younger sister comes to the msby party with one purpose, Sakusa Kiyoomi.

warning!: kinda mean!kiyoomi, unprotected sex, spanking a little bit, possessive omi <3 , choking.

you can see my masterlist too.

Your relationship with your brother's teammates was always friendly, but there was one person you wished wouldn't treat you like a friend. Sakusa Kiyoomi was your biggest crush, until the innocent looks grew to be a sexual tension that had you touching yourself at night and fantasizing that they were his. You wanted him to see you for the woman you are, not just the little sister of his obnoxious and loud friend.

So you decided that if Sakusa didn't take the initiative, you would.

It all started at a msby party, where Atsumu decided to bring his little sister as plus one, and you were not going to say no since you were dressed with a purpose.

So you decided to pamper yourself and buy a new outfit for the occasion, put on makeup and fix your hair in a sensual way.Upon entering, you were holding onto Atsumu's arm, while greeting people you already knew and those you didn't, but your gaze was looking for someone in specific.

At one point Atsumu went to the bar dragged by bokuto leaving you alone in the middle of the lounge.

" I didn't think I'd see you here today, I thought you'd be stuck next to your brother as usual"

You could feel the sarcasm in Sakusa's voice behind you, even without seeing it you felt your skin crawl. You usually spent your spare time helping Osamu with his restaurant.

You turned around and you could feel the heat emanating from Sakusa's body, he was dressed in black dress pants, a dark blue shirt rolled up on his arms and loose buttons almost reaching his neck. He looked incredibly hot.

" Sometimes a girl needs to be distracted a bit, besides Atsumu said that Kageyama could attend today" You couldn't help but tease him, something you knew very well about Sakusa was his short temper and the dislike for the younger setter.

Sakusa rolled his eyes and moved closer to you, his expensive scent filling your nostrils making you tingle, "Do you really think someone like Kageyama could distract you? I thought you were the smartest Miya, what a disgrace"

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, "How many times do I have to tell you not to compare me to my idiot brothers?" Also, I didn't know that you already had such an opinion of me, be careful omi-kun~, you seem obsessed with me" you smiled mischievously, what you didn't expect is for Sakusa to get close to your ear and whisper, "And what will you do if I am?" and unleashed everything.

One thing led to another and now you were in the parking lot of the party, locked in his luxury car. You were mounted on top of him and you felt his hands greedily go all over your body while his lips left wet kisses all over your neck.

" Omi, not here, please, someone can come out and see us like this" you murmured clinging to the last thread of consciousness you had left, the tickling between your legs clouded your mind.

"Do you really think I care? You don't know how long I waited to do this" Kiyoomi said turning his face away from your neck and holding your face in his hands, his pupils were dilated and you could swear you could die looking at him.

" I didn't know you were so in love with me omi-omi" you said smiling, you tried to get closer to kiss him on the lips but he stopped you seriously on his pretty face.

"You know that i do, why did you think I was going to Osamu's restaurant after team practices and you were there, why i stayed with you a while longer when you waited for Atsumu to come out of the gym showers?" this time it was sakusa approached your face, "Why do you think that the day I found out that Kageyama was going to ask for your number I threw a service ace in his face?"

You laughed remembering that match, everyone was amazed that the Sakusa Kiyoomi lost track of the ball so much. You always thought that spending so much time with Atsumu began to affect him.

" I knew you were attracted to me, but I never thought you'd give me a chance to get closer. I thought you tease me just for being your teammate's sister"

Your laugh spreads a smile on Kiyoomi's face, who once again brought your face closer to his, your breath mixing, "You're a fool if you think that to me you were just that, I always saw you beyond your brother"

This time Kiyoomi let you kiss him, compared to the touches on your body, the kiss was sweet and delicate, in silence he wanted to show you how much he longed for this moment.

The kiss began to intensify, your hands caressing Kiyoomi's curly hair, and he caressed the skin on your hips.

"So show me omi, show me that you want me"

Your words were like a lighter that lit the fire in him, his hands became greedy again,his hands began to move up your dress little by little, you instead unbuttoned his shirt and allowed yourself to touch his chest.

" Don't be a brat, don't forget who you're talking to" Kiyoomi patted the side of your thigh, you whimpered and moved a little against his throbbing erection.

" Don't be mean omi~" you started to leave kisses on his face while your hands tried to unbutton his pants but again, Kiyoomi stopped you making you moan in frustration, "Please Omi, I just want to make you feel good"

Kiyoomi smiled and you know it's the same smile he has when he manages to get Atsumu mad , "I want you to cum like this first, rub against me and get what you want, then I'll fuck you enough that my name is the only thing on your mind."

God you could feel that you already left a stain on his pants. Kiyoomi saw your doubt and grabbed your waist with his big hands and began to rub you against his dick making you whimper.

"Please, please" you really didn't know what you were asking for, but the force with which you moved against him was enough to drive you crazy, the mere idea of doing something so dirty in such a clean person made your mind blow.

Kiyoomi spanked your ass making you jump, one hand closing around your neck, applying enough pressure to make your head spin, and the other rocking your hips, "So greedy, so spoiled, you can't do one thing right"

Your body was getting hotter, your clit was pulsing with the need for attention, and Kiyoomi was going to give it to you. Under the hand that was on your hips, he moved your underwear to the side and began to massage it at the same time that you moved causing your moans to be louder and louder. "That's it, good girl, make a mess for me"

His words were like an order to your brain, you tried to suppress yourself but you exploded in incomparable euphoria and pleasure, your cum soaked all over Kiyoomi's pants, "What a pity that all this is going to be wasted without first being able to try it" He said caressing your entrance with his two fingers, collected your slick and brought his fingers to your mouth.

Your cheeks were red, the sweat from your body stuck your baby hair to your forehead and your eyes reflected the hunger you felt, "Please omi, I was good" you begged again but Kiyoomi silenced your prayers forcing his fingers into your mouth, you quickly sucked them as if they were his dick and this time ,Kiyoomi had to control himself not to cum.

"Such a silly baby, you're right, you've been good" Kiyoomi kissed the valley of your breasts while helping you to get his dick out of its confinement, seeing him in all his vigor you felt your mouth salivate, Kiyoomi saw your expression and chuckled leaving a kiss on your mouth, "There will be time for that another time, now I need to be inside you"

Another time, the promise that this will happen again made you smile with happiness.

Kiyoomi wasting no time, pushed aside your underwear and gently entered you, you were quite wet from your orgasm but he didn't want to hurt you.

The stretch felt delicious, it wasn't that wide but it was quite long, little by little you felt it enter completely, blocking your breath.

" Omi feels so so good, please omi, please make me yours" the words came out of your mouth before your brain could process them, he moaned and decided to silence them with a hot kiss, carefully he began a slow sway until he began to increase speed and strength, hitting more and more the small point inside you that brought you closer to orgasm.

Wrapping his arms around your hips and planting his feet on the floor of the car, Kiyoomi started a movement that made your vision blur, "Who's making you feel like this? Uh? We just started and you can't even talk anymore, you think that useless setter could make you feel as good as I do?"

The windows of the car fogged up and the atmosphere smelled of sex, anyone who peeked in could guess what was happening inside.

" You! fuck, holy fuck, you Kyoomi, only you " you moaned feeling your orgasm closer than before, he moaned as he felt your walls close more and more on his cock.

He began to massage your clitoris this time carelessly, increasing the volume of your moans, your mind increasingly less understood the situation and you could only understand the pleasure that your body felt.

"Come on brat, scream for me, cum with me" Kiyoomi's thrusts increased until your scream made them stop, cumming inside you, filling you with his thick and hot cum.

The only thing that could be heard was your heavy breathing, both hugged each other's body while Kiyoomi was still inside you, you closed your eyes and rested your head on his shoulder while he caressed your hair.

"Let me take you on a date, you can choose anywhere but your brother's restaurant" Kiyoomi said giving you a kiss on the forehead, you smiled and looked at him with amusement.

" Could you not talk about any of my brothers while you're inside me?" you joked and omi's cheeks turned red.

You laughed when you heard him complain that you were vulgar, this man was definitely going to be the death of you.

The vibration of your cell phone in your wallet that was in the passenger seat took them out of their bubble, you turned on and the first message that appeared was from Atsumu. Shit.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu fluff #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #msby sakusa #hq sakusa #sakusa smut #miya atsumu #atsumu smut #miya osamu #osamu smut #bokuto koutarou #hinata shouyou

[veenxys]

「Haikyuu boys reacting to you sleeping on the couch when they come home late」

⤷ Bokuto

he chuckles softly, taking off his jacket, as he sees that you’ve fallen asleep on the couch. the loving expression on his face is evident as he takes a moment to admire how peaceful and innocent you look in your sleep. he decides to join you on the couch, gently scooting you over and snuggling into your figure and making sure you’re comfortable. when you sleepily cuddle closer into his arms, warmth blooms in his chest and he presses a kiss on top of your head, murmuring a good night darling.

⤷ Kuroo

he doesn’t realize he’s smiling because at the moment, while looking at you, all he can focus on is this strange feeling in his heart. he lightly pushes a few strands of hair back from your face. when you start to wake, he cups your face, his thumb brushing your skin. “hi, you’re home,” you greet with a sleepy smile and hazy eyes. he hums softly with agreement, “yes, i am,” he says, because it’s true; he found a home in you.

⤷ Atsumu

as much as he appreciates you staying up to wait for him, you being well-rested was also important to him. he frowns a little, seeing you on the couch. from the back, he doesn’t see you dozing off, just that you’re sitting. he blurts out, his voice coming out in the tone of a concerned whine that gets louder with each word, “yahh, y/n, don’t stay up this late — oh sorry,” he blinks as you’re startled awake by his voice. you both laugh a little after a moment, realising the situation. he presses a soft peck on your lips before slinging his arms around your shoulders as, both tiredly making your ways into the bedroom. “don’t wait up next time, okay?” he says, pressing a kiss on your cheek.

⤷ Osamu

making his way towards the couch in the living room, he feels himself smile at the sight of your peacefully sleeping face, your book open in your lap. he closes it for you and gently puts his arms around your shoulder, carrying you into the bedroom. after lowering you down on the bed, he takes a moment to gaze at your features with a soft smile and press a kiss on your forehead. “sleep well, love,” he says quietly before making his way into the bathroom to wash up for bed.

⤷ Oikawa

his heart melts at the sight of you fast asleep on the couch. he quietly crouches down in front of it and fondly looks at you for a while, his chin resting against his forearm. in an attempt to wake you from your slumber, he gently flicks your forehead and cheeks. when you finally open your eyes, he greets you with a beaming smile. “come on, let’s get you to bed, yeah?” he says as he helps you get up, his voice laced with softness.

⤷ Nishinoya

when he comes home and sees you sleeping on the couch, he can’t hide a smile. he closes the door and locks it carefully, takes off his shoes and jacket, trying his best not to make any noise so as not to wake you up. he approaches and crouches beside you, staring at you for a few seconds with the sweetest and most bright smile of all; he brushes a few strands of hair out of your face before gently calling you so the two of you can go to bed. he’d kiss your forehead and tell you you don’t have to wait up for him, that your health always comes first, and that he’s happy to see you anyway.

⤷ Kenma

already tired, he would be touched that you waited up for him and his heart would swell with emotions as he looks at you with a such a fond expression, softly stroking your cheek. he brings the pillows and blankets — yours and his — from the bedroom before gently placing the former under your head and covering the latter over your sleeping figure. he presses a lazy yet loving kiss on your forehead and falls sleeps on the floor in front of the couch while holding your hand.

⤷ Suna

he beams as he notices you asleep on the couch, lying sideways. he tries his best to be extra quiet as he takes his shoes off and tip-toes his way towards you and takes a seat on the floor in front of the couch. he has such a soft look on his face as he watches your serene expression. with a smile, he picks you up and carries you to the bedroom. as soon as you start stirring and mumbling something he couldn’t quite hear, he simply places a kiss on your hairline, whispering softly, “i got you, baby,”

⤷ Sakusa

he has a slight upturn to his lips when he finds you dozing off on the couch, your phone still in your hand. his hand reaches towards you, taking the phone before it falls and replacing the empty space with his hand. he watches you for a while, tired but unable to hide the smile on his face. when you stir and your eyes open slowly, he seems unfazed but apologetically rubs soothing circles on your knuckle, “i said not to wait up,” he scolds softly, tsk-ing at your previous awkward sleeping position and the neck pain you might end up having. the smile never leaving his face, he helps you up and leads you to the bedroom.

⤷ Hinata

he completely melts when he sees you sleeping, but he also gets a little worried because he doesn’t want you to wake up with neck or back pain. he smiles weakly because the idea of ​​you wanting to wait for him awake makes him feel loved, even if you couldn’t. it’s okay, he thinks, you’ll always come first and he’d never criticize or judge you for it. he gently picks you up and carries you to bed, covering you and gently caressing your cheek before kissing your forehead.

#— fluffvember! ♡ #bokuto x reader #bokuto imagine #bokuto fluff #hinata x reader #hinata imagine #hinata fluff #kuroo x reader #kuroo imagine #kuroo fluff #atsumu x reader #atsumu imagine #atsumu fluff #osamu x reader #osamu imagine #osamu fluff #oikawa x reader #oikawa imagine #oikawa fluff #nishinoya x reader #nishinoya imagine #nishinoya fluff #kenma x reader #kenma imagine #kenma fluff #suna x reader #suna imagine #suna fluff #sakusa x reader #sakusa imagine

[ridiculouslly-ridiculous]

I don’t wanna fight, lemme cum inside you~

Various characters x Fem!reader

Warnings: Piv, no plot, smut, cream pie, dumbification, not proof read

Inspired by the one line in “Mañana” by Tainy, Young Miko, & The Marías

You had no idea that the tiny fight you had would escalate into a bigger fight, and ultimately end up with you getting pinned down into the mattress — face down, ass up, and hands behind your back.

You can’t even remember what the fight was about— not when you’re getting your back blown out so good you can’t even think straight. You can barely disypher the words your boyfriend is panting as he drills into you.

“Oh, baby, you know I hate it when we fight.” He grunts — never letting up his relentless pace. You let out warbled moans in response. Drool now coming out of the corner of your mouth by how fucked out you are.

“You know I hate fighting with you, right? Lemme cum inside you to show you how sorry I am.” You hear him grunt over the pap, pap, pap of his balls smacking against you with each thrust. You can’t even form a coherent thought, let alone voice it. You just moan even louder and you feel your pussy start to get even wetter than it already was.

He chuckles at your reaction, “I’m gonna take that as a yes.” A few more hard thrusts and you can feel his heavy load fill you all the way up until there was no more room and it begins to leak out. Although he’s already cumming, he’s still slowly grinding into you. It’s not much but it’s just enough to finally get you to cream around him.

“There she is.” You’re struggling to catch your breath after such an intense orgasam. Pulling out, he carefully flips you over — cum leaking out of messy pussy and all over the sheets. He then agonizingly slow lines himself and pushes in letting out a nasty squelch.

“Don’t get too comfortable babe… I’m not done apologizing yet.”

Licht, Leon, Silvio, Nokto, Keith, Rio, your Ikémen fave <3

Daichi, Bokuto, Matsukawa, Osamu, Atsumu, Semi, Kenshin, Akaashi, Kita, your HQ fave <3

Nanami, Toji, Yuuta, your JJK fave <3

#🎼 — kats compositions #haikyuu!! #ikemen prince #ikepri #licht klein #leon dompteur #miya osamu #keith howell #Kenshin Ukai #listen.. this was supposed to be for Lichts birthday but my brain went brrr #and was like… but wait!! there’s more!! #matsukawa issei #rio ortiz #silvio ricci #wow posting right before the day is over #literally me in college tho🙈 #nanami kento #toji fushiguro #smut #kita shinsuke #bokuto koutaro #daichi sawamura #yuuta okkotsu #semi eita smut

[strwbrryeyes]

⟡ summary: y/n and suna wanted to get over their exes but ended up falling in love one drunken night after a stupid party game that had them both trapped in a small closet with only their thoughts to keep them company.

⟡ cw: slight angst, mentions of sex, use of alcohol, mentions of cheating, flirting, foreshadowing of the rest of the story, lmk if i missed anything.

⟡ word count: 1.5k

"it was seven seconds in heaven for the hell of it."

after almost flunking out of college your first semester, you swore to yourself that you wouldn't step foot into another party. but here you are at a small party your best friend and roommate, kisa, was hosting. it wasn't a really a party you guess, it was more of a get together of her friends- so at least you have that going for you. the party consisted of people she knew from high school. more specifically people from her volleyball manager days.

you weren't a stranger to volleyball. in fact your ex boyfriend, terushima yuuji, was a volleyball player. you wince at the thought of him because he had recently broken up with you saying "i think we should explore in college! see other people!". what a 'nice' way of saying he wants to fuck other people. anyway, that was three years down the drain.

anyway, kisa attended a high school called inarizaki and had invited her old classmates over since it had been so long since they've all been in the same place. there were also people from other teams that she's met along the way. in total there were six people you barely knew anything about in your apartment.

you weren't a stranger to volleyball. in fact your ex boyfriend, terushima yuuji, was a volleyball player. you wince at the thought of him because he had recently broken up with you saying "i think we should explore in college! see other people!". what a 'nice' way of saying he wants to fuck other people. anyway, that was three years down the drain.

there were the miya twins, osamu and atsumu. atsumu's teammates hinata, sakusa, bokuto. and lastly, the boy you would soon find yourself ripping your hair out over, suna rintaro.

it's not like you wanted to get involved with him, no of course not, but after finding yourself standing in the middle of a circle that was made up of all the men (minus osamu who was off somewhere with kisa probably making out) with a blindfold covering your eyes as you were about to play 7 minutes in heaven.

you don't remember how you got here, all you know is that you had too many drinks and had just got dumped. so fuck it.

"you ready y/n?" a deep voice you now recognize as bokuto, asked you as you felt his strong hands land on your shoulder.

"yeah i am" nodding your head, the next thing you know, you were spun around a few times by bokuto before he left you to spin by yourself as he runs to go sit in the circle with the other men.

thinking about it now, you really shouldn't have drank so much because now you find yourself slightly stumbling over your own feet as your spins come to an end and...boom. you fell on top of someone. quickly apologizing, you take off the blindfold to be greeted by light green eyes and a shit eating grin. you landed in suna's lap.

"guess you really wanted it to be me." letting out a breathy chuckle he looks at you with flirtatious eyes causing a blush to creep onto your cheeks.

"guess so..." you say with a voice so quiet only the two of you could hear. it's like the world stopped spinning for a moment.

"alright alright stop ogling at each other and go into the closet!" you are both snapped out of the moment as you hear atsumu's voice and realize that you're still in the awkward position from when you fell on him.

after a few moments of awkward silence, you both stood up and looked at each other before suna guided you to the closet in the living room. once you get inside you hear atsumu say that the timer has been set for 7 minutes and that the time has started.

at first it's dark and silent, but after a while suna takes his phone and turns on the flashlight.

"there's that pretty face." he says as he scoots closer to you, putting a strand of hair behind your ears. you do nothing but blush and bury your face in your hands.

"what? you're gonna hide from me?" he chuckles as he looks down at you "don't forget that this was your idea, doll." he's right. it was your idea but it was a stupid idea you came up with out of drunken sadness.

"yeah im regretting it now..." you softly state as you pick your head back up to look at him.

"i'm not that bad am i?" he gasps sarcastically.

"it's not that..." you started off "i just wanted to get my mind off my ex boyfriend." you sigh finally telling him the reasoning for this silly game.

a beat of silence.

"guess we're in the same boat then." suna finally says looking at the door in front of you both. "my girlfriend recently cheated on me and i've been a mess since but osamu convinced me to get out of my room and come here to socialize, so when you came up with the idea of seven minutes in heaven, i just said screw it and agreed. i don't think i would have actually wanted to fool around with you." he explains in a blunt tone using finger quotations while saying 'fool around'.

it was your turn to fake gasp.

"am i really that ugly?" you feign fake sadness putting your hand over your head to which he chuckles at.

"no, you're actually really pretty, i just don't want to have sex with someone i just met." your fake sadness turns into a blush for the millionth time and you turn to look at him only to find that hes staring right back at you.

"well, you're not bad looking yourself." you reply and you can see him smile in the shine of the phone flashlight.

after a few moments of talking about whatever you two could think of, you hear atsumu and hinata yell that you had two more minutes.

"that was fast." you both say at the same time causing laughter to fill up the small space you were in.

at this point your head was on his shoulder with his head leaning on top of yours from the both of you being tired. he lifts his head up and gently moves your head off of him and moves so that you are now facing each other.

"kiss me." he says with the same grin on his face that he had earlier when you fell on him.

"what?" confusion takes over you.

"you heard me," he says with a tone that reeks of 'duh' "we both did this to forget about our exes so let's follow through." he explains and you think about it for a second. did you really want to do this?

"okay." you finally agree and you both lean in.

only a few inches apart from each other now, suna puts his hand on the back of your head pulling you in to close the gap.

your lips meet and all you can think about is how right it feels. you move together perfectly in sync. every moment is soft and gentle and just...perfect.

you both want to keep going because you both know that this wasn't an ordinary kiss but you soon remember that this moment can't last forever when you hear the door of the closet swing open and are met with light of the living room filling the darkness of the closet.

"eww! they're kissing!" bokuto yells out like a little girl cuasing you both to pull away from each other.

you look at the crowd that now stands in front of you, kisa and osamu finally joining everyone, both giving their respective best friends a knowing look while smirking.

"okay, okay! shows over! get up you two." sakusa instructs you and suna and you both follow his demands and step out of the closet.

wanting to avoid everyone you go into the kitchen to talk for a bit before suna and the rest of the guys have to leave.

"that was an amazing kiss by the way, no idea why your boy toy dumped you." suna starts off the conversation with this blunt comment causing you to playfully shove his shoulder.

"well, i could say the same thing about you." you admit causing him to smile as the two of you go back to being in silence for a few minutes.

"let me take you out on a date." he says in a serious tone

"a date?" you ask him confused and shocked.

"i know you felt the sparks too...that sounded cheesy but you know what i mean." he grabs your hand squeezing it which send an electric shock down your body.

"i do know..." you trail off before thinking about his offer.

"okay, i'll let you take me on a date then." you finally respond to him and he pumps his fist up in the air and cheers like a child.

you plan out the date for next weekend and exchange numbers before he was pulled along by osamu saying that they had to go.

before exiting the apartment, he looks back at you and winks.

"see you next weekend, pretty." he states as he walks out the door.

and he did see you the next weekend.

what was meant to be a stupid idea to get your mind off of your exes turned into both of you falling in love with each other.

but who knew that falling in love meant you guys would have do many obstacles to face? that the both of you would be in an off again on again relationship?

who knew that this was the start to a cycle you both wish could end?

previous / next || masterlist

⟡ a/n: the rest of this fanfic will continue once i finish my best friend drabbles.

⟡ a/n: based off of the EP closure by zeph. (although the idea for this prologue was lightly inspired by a song on her album called character development.)

⟡ taglist: open! just send an ask :)

#suna rintaro x reader #suna x reader #suna rintaro haikyuu #suna rintaro #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #suna rintarou