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chikaras-garden · 1 year

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Mean Streak (reader's version)

Osamu is the world’s most perfect boyfriend: Sweet, doting, protective. He’d give you the world—but what happens when you ask him to be mean to you?

Pairing: dom!Osamu x sub!fem!reader

Words: 4.6k

Contains: soft! to mean!dom!Osamu, brat!reader, light breathplay, dumbification, dacryphilia, praise kink, degradation, oral sex (f!receiving), overstimulation, piv sex, ruined orgasm, desk sex, chair sex, roughness, spanking, mention of a safeword, little hint of size difference, O calls R “baby girl,” “baby,” “little girl,” “dumb girl,” “good girl,” yes this was a wild ride

Notes: 18+ or you’ll be blocked, Yachi’s version on ao3. Couldn’t decide if I wanted this to be x Yachi or x reader, so…I did both.

You’re pretty sure your boyfriend has a mean streak. He is Miya Atsumu’s twin brother, after all. They’re cut from the same cloth, mixed from the same pool of genes, but his temper is slower to rise than his brother’s. Even when he’s mad, he has a level of self-control unlike anyone else’s.

Instead of yelling at the toro supplier that’s actively trying to screw him over, he chokes down his words under a frustrated, throaty growl.

Instead of snapping at the customer trying to claim her food isn’t fresh, he smiles and offers a coupon while slicing a cucumber with so much force that the veins in his arm bulge.

Instead of putting Atsumu in his place before he starts getting annoying, your boyfriend just waits for his twin to make a fool of himself before calling him a few names that cut him straight to the core.

But, when you try to get him to be mean to you, all he does is raise his brow at you and pull you closer to his chest.

It’s hardly fair.

“You can have all the attention you want,” he chuckles every time you ask. Tucked in his lap, pressed up against his chest, the kindness in his words brings a pout to your lips. “I’ll spoil you until you cry—but baby, I can’t be mean to you.”

An idea forms while you’re waiting for Osamu to lock up the onigiri shop. Bored after finishing your last college class of the day, you’re just twiddling your thumbs while Osamu counts cash in his office.

The first thing he did when you emerged through the shop door was vent about his day. First, there were more customers than he planned for, each one more impatient than the last that their onigiri had to be made fresh instead of grab-and-go. Then, one of the cashiers forgot that they had a dentist appointment and had to leave in the middle of the lunch rush. And, topping it all off, it’s Friday, which means that he has to close out the week’s worth of cash, and he keeps coming up with a different total every time he counts the bills.

Osamu is stressed. You would like to help him fix that.

You perch on his desk chair—stolen from in front of his computer—in the middle of the kitchen. It gives you a perfect view of Osamu, standing in front of his desk, framed by the bright white molding surrounding the back office door. But also, it means that he’s far away—at least, far enough that he’s not in arm’s reach, and that just won’t do.

Normally, you’d get up and drag the chair into his office to lean against him, or even give yourself a power nap snuggled up in the corner, under the ultra-coze industrial heat vent. But this time, you have a plan.

“Osamu,” you call, “aren’t you done yet?”

He sighs. It’s not at you (he would never), but at the fact that he just got pulled out of counting again. He drops the bills on the desk, sighs a second time, and picks them back up to start over. “I’ll be ready to go in a minute.”

A small part of you feels bad for provoking him, but you’re so curious, so needy for a side of Osamu that you never get to see—that you keep up the pressure. You whine, draping your arms on the prep table in front of you and pressing your cheek against your bicep. This time, Osamu slams the bills down, all but crushing the stack of paper under his hand.

You imagine white-hot stings that turn to red marks, then pretty purple bruises. You think the sound of skin on skin would be much nicer than skin on paper, and the idea makes heat crawl up the back of your neck.

“For the love of,” your boyfriend says, starting to sound perturbed. “Baby, what?”

Honestly, how well this is going comes as a surprise. All you have to do is sniff, turn your nose up at Osamu’s baffled face, and give him your best pout, jutting your lip out so he can see the glimmer of saliva atop kissable skin.

You imagine him grabbing you by the back of your neck, forcing your lips open, and shoving his cock into your mouth to wipe the pout off your face. It’s a good thing the shop is chilly: you don’t have to hide the shiver that electrifies your core.

Then, you see him raise an eyebrow.

He holds up an arm, palm facing the ceiling, fingers outstretched. He’s so muscular, so invitingly warm in a dark blue t-shirt. It’s a soft one; it’s one of your favorites because of the color, the way it feels against your cheek, and the way it skims his arms.

Arms that can carry several restaurant-size bags of rice.

Arms that you wish were carrying you right now.

“C’mere.” His voice is like sugar. The sound of him beckoning you makes your face run hot, and you feel yourself almost giving in right then and there. He speaks gently, without judgment; like he understands you completely, like your acting up is a symptom, not a cause.

You don't expect punishment when he talks to you like this. So, you swallow, remembering what you set out to do. You fidget, knees knocking together, and find stability in gripping the cool metal of Onigiri Miya’s prep counter.

“No.”

Osamu looks at you like you just slapped him. His arm drops to his side while he, slack-jawed, tilts his head. “What did you just say?”

It’s a chance to change your mind, to whine and fall into your boyfriend’s loving arms so he can caress your cheeks and fuck the bad mood out of you. You could choose to let him spoil you with the attention you crave until you’re teary-eyed and babbling, giggling with the joy of having your needs answered with a loving touch.

But then, you see the tightness in Osamu’s jaw. Your legs feel hot.

“I said no,” you huff.

Osamu stares at you for a beat, studying you while the air in between you thickens, growing warm and sticky with tension. You try to hold still and steady so he doesn’t come to the conclusion that you don't really want this.

“Come over here and let me look at you.”

You sit still for a second too long, because he adds, “Now, baby.”

As soon as you’re within arm’s reach, he seizes you by the waist and yanks you into him. You stumble forward, crashing into his chest with a soft thump. With his free hand, he grabs your chin, balancing your face between his thumb and forefinger to force you to look at him. He licks his lips while he observes you, and you wriggles because he’s so close, his skin is so warm, you want his tongue on you—

He squeezes your hip hard enough to make you whine. “Stop.”

Osamu backs you up until your thighs brush against his desk. He nudges you, lowering his palm until he gets a stable grip to lift you onto its surface, now with stacks of bills tucked hastily back into the cash register drawer. “Are you going to tell me why you’re being such a brat?”

He strokes a thumb across your lower lip. Spurred on by your own tingling desire, you open your mouth to invite his finger in. When he presses his thumb down on your tongue, making you drool and whine against his finger, he sighs; it’s shuddering, a messy blend of disappointment, relief, and lust.

“Was this all you wanted, baby girl? My attention?” His soft tone draws you in. Your head tips forward until he catches you with his other hand, now stroking your cheek. He’s chuckling, now, and uses his hold on your mouth to make your nod. It’s a sign, symbolic of the fact that he always knows what you want, even if you don’t.

You whine around his thumb, and he instantly shushes you. Gently, so gently, too gently, he cradles your head and guides you to rest against his shoulder. His muscles betray him; though his voice and the touches he’s controlling are soft, the subconscious tension in his arms is tight like a loaded spring.

Releasing his thumb, you mumble, “Want you to be mean.”

He coos, tutting at you as if you’re a toddler demanding a unicorn for your birthday. “You know I can’t do that. Besides, I don’t think that’s what you actually want.”

You blink up at him, eyes already glassy. You see the face of a man in love and drunk on it; he smiles sweetly, with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, but there’s something else. A flash of cruelty in his eyes, a tension in his neck.

“‘Mean’ means that I leave you like this,” he continues, nonchalant. “‘Mean’ means that I take you back to your dorm for you to take care of this all by yourself.”

He gives your cheek a squeeze, then slides his thumb right back into your mouth, hooking it inside your cheek. “You don’t want that, do you, baby?”

You were going to shake your head anyway, but he tilts his wrist to do it for you. Again, he chuckles, and your chest fills with warmth at the velvet sound of your boyfriend sounding so pleased. With every word, you feel fuzzier and softer, pliant to anything he says you want.

Then, he pulls his thumb out of your mouth, leaving a pout behind. He stoops a little, crouching closer to your eye level. “I’m gonna give you what you actually want, okay? Need a real answer out of you, with words.”

Fuzzy as you may feel, you’re still (reasonably) coherent. You want Osamu, want whatever he has in mind, want to feel the results of your behavior as deeply as he’ll give. You’re teetering on the edge of your (and his) favorite headspace, a few perfect touches away from being blissed out and subby, all for him.

“Okay,” you murmur.

“Okay, who?”

“Okay, sir.”

“And your safeword?”

“Onigiri.”

“That’s right,” he coos. “That’s my girl.”

Osamu looks like a man wrestling with himself. He strokes your hips with gentle hands, sliding his fingers up under your shirt. But his arms, big and broad, strain. You can count the veins bulging under his skin, see how tight his muscles are, and oh, what you would give to be wrapped up in those arms for the rest of your life.

“Hey,” he interrupts. You look up and see the eyes of a worried lover. “I’ll never hurt you in ways you don’t like. Tell me as soon as anything’s too much, and I’ll go softer, understand?”

You nod.

“Yes or no, baby girl?”

“Yes, sir,” you insist. You lean forward slightly, entranced by the stern look on his face. He is the picture of control, looking at you in a way that conveys the internal calculations going on in his head. You think you’d like to help him let go of that, do what feels right instead of what he thinks is right.

You reach for the collar of his shirt, entwining your fingers in the soft fabric and tugging. “Please fuck me, sir.”

A low sound, thick with want, vibrates out of his throat. Those words went right to his cock, intensifying the growing bulge between his legs. You’re certain it’s making it harder and harder (pun intended) for him to concentrate; good, you think.

“Sit tight for a second.” He pats your hips and presses a kiss to your forehead. The gesture lasts one, two, three seconds, during which you can’t breathe. When he steps away, he’s biting his lip, hiding a grin—and then he winks.

You do not hide your grin from him. Instead, you let the flutter in your stomach inspire your feet to swing from your perch on Osamu’s desk.

After just a few seconds, he’s in front of you again, this time with the desk chair. He doesn’t wheel it, no; he picks it up, making it look weightless, and it looks like he’s flexing his arms on purpose to make you giggle.

It works.

“Thank everythin’ you’re wearing a skirt.” He grins wildly while he, with one hand on your waist and the other hand tightly gripping your fingers, helps you off the desk. Sure, you could do it herself, they both know, but you’d both much rather let Osamu handle everything. Falling into him and surrendering to trust feels good, and who are you to deny things that make your body sing?

Osamu flips up the bottom of your skirt and pulls, just slightly, so it’s hiked up around the top of your thighs. He gives you a look, and you quickly nod, which leads to him sliding your panties down your legs. Then, he nudges you to sit, and cool faux leather meets bare, burning skin.

You sigh, closing your eyes to stop yourself from shaking with anticipation. “I did it on purpose.”

“Of course you did.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Falling to his knees at your feet, Osamu looks at you with love: nothing more, nothing less.

He lays kisses all over your legs. Starting playfully, dotting your shins and knees with little pecks that make you giggle, he ends up open-mouthed, sucking shades of mauve, raspberry, and plum into the soft, sweet skin of your thighs.

“So pretty for me,” he murmurs before kissing the juncture of your thigh and your hip. “You’re so beautiful. Like a work of art”

Then, his lips latch onto your clit, and he begins to suckle on your bundle of nerves like a man that hasn’t seen water for days, and a secret oasis resides between your legs.

Every time you moan, he sucks harder, creating a vicious cycle of action and reaction where his role and yours blur together. He makes you whimper with need, and he answers every one of your calls; he sets metaphorical fire to your trembling bud, and sounds of ecstasy erupt from your lips.

Frustratingly, his tongue doesn’t go near your folds, never strays from your clit, treats this like an appetizer before tasting the sweet, wet fruit of his labor.

And then, he leans back on his heels.

You gasp at the loss of contact. Cold, artificial air rushes your clit, feeling like ice against his left-behind saliva, and your wriggle against the chair, not sure if you want to be closer or farther away from him. “S-Samu—S-Sir!”

“That was mean,” he tells you. You know—your mind and body feel the realization with agony, his teasing slicing through you like a sharpened blade. His bait-and-switch is unfair, so unfair that the lonely ache in your pussy hurts, leaving you shuddering and weak in the knees while he looks at you with a patronizing stare.

Not one to torture you for long, though, he leans forward again, brushing his nose up against your sex. You whine, throwing your legs over his shoulders to pull him closer, closer, until his lips ghost along the slick edges of your core. He sighs, blowing warm air into you in a way that makes you keen.

You reach and grab a fist of his hair, at which he grunts; with trembling lips, you resign to begging, “Please, please, sir.”

You get the raised brow again, a little gesture that makes you want to throw yout head back and cry out in frustration. “Thought you wanted mean?”

“‘M sorry, sir, I-I—”

“That’s right,” he cuts you off in a tone that’s over-the-top condescending, hinting that he doesn’t really mean it. You recognize the sound of Osamu’s voice when he’s electric, on fire with adrenaline. Every word is laced with a wicked degree of lust that makes your heart pound, makes you struggle closer to him. “My girl’s too dumb to know what she wants.”

Osamu runs his hands up and down your legs, then he grips your knees, wrapping your thighs snugly around his broad shoulders. When he speaks, his voice is quiet, caring, and full of love, but his smirk mocks the way you’re falling apart in his hands. “‘S okay, though. That’s why I’m here. You need me to take care of you, don’t you, baby girl?”

You rush to agree, nodding as you sniffle and press one of your thighs closer to Osamu’s mouth. “I-I can’t…I need you, s-sir.”

“I know, baby; I know.” To soothe you—because he can’t help himself—he presses an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh, then bites down until you squeal. You, unaware of what your body is doing to him, reward him with a sudden tug to the fistful of his hair you’re holding onto for dear life. He lets you lead him even though he’s fully aware that you’re not coherent enough to realize it; when you pull, he presses his nose above your sex, grazing his teeth along the flesh of your mound until he reaches the top of your folds.

“Fuckin’ delicious,” he growls, right before he dives back in for seconds, tongue flat against your core.

He slides his tongue down from your clit to your weeping hole, dipping just the tip inside. For himself, he wants to savor your saccharine taste; for you, he wants to draw out your pleasure as long as possible, to hold you over the edge of bliss until you’re breathless because of him.

While he slides his tongue in and out of you, lapping from the bottom of your folds up to your clit, he swirls his tongue around your pert bundle of nerves, then angles his chin so his nose bumps against your clit with every downward stroke of his tongue. A waterfall of moans spills out of your lips, any word other than please completely forgotten from your vocabulary. He loves his girl, his polite baby, and as such, the ministrations of his tongue start to quicken, to become rushed and ragged because he, too, needs more.

Your vision starts to blur with pleasure, with tears. You’re close, so close, and you feel knots tying themselves in your stomach and your groin. Wordlessly, thrusting shallowly forward, you beg him not to pull away again; you were wrong, you want to cry, you don’t want him to be mean.

You chase the building high, follow the white hot light building in your vision all the way to your peak. Hips rocking forward, meeting his tongue with no rhythm whatsoever and knocking your clit against his teeth. Legs squeezing, pressing his warm cheeks into you until his 5 o’clock shadow scrapes angry marks into your thighs.

Right before your orgasm crashes over you, he pulls away again.

The sound you make is somewhere between a moan and a sob, and fat tears finally break free from your eyes as your blubber, choking and gasping on your ruined orgasm “N-No, sir, please.”

You don't get very long to cry, though, as he rushes to stand over you. His hands grab both of your cheeks and pull you into him, kissing you so deeply that your ability to think finally melts away completely. His tongue is in your mouth. You taste yourself on him: salty, sweet, musky. His fingers are as cold as ice against your burning skin, heat radiating from your cheeks, to your chest, to your stomach, to your groin. You fidget, but that makes him hold you tighter, pinning your soft cheeks between his calloused hands.

Whimpering, mewling against his lips, you paw at his chest. Broad muscle meets weak fingers, and you tug at the fabric in your way. You need him, need to feel him, need him to hold you now before all of your pieces fall apart.

Osamu pulls his tongue out of your mouth, but you’re too dazed to speak. He presses kisses down your throat, pausing only to suck on your collarbone while quick fingers make easy work of your sweater’s buttons. He glances up at you through half-lidded eyes, grinning as he presses feather-light kisses to the top of your chest. “What’re you crying for, pretty girl? This is what you asked for.”

You take a deep breath, arch your back, push your chest closer to his face. “P-Please, I want…”

When your voice falls off, too weak to finish your sentence, he gives you a fox-like grin. “You want?”

You whine, kicking your feet out behind him. One leg wraps around his waist, the other tangles behind his thigh. Your hands find stability in grabbing his forearms, and you fleetingly think that’s a mistake because he’s so strong and thick that your middle finger and thumb aren’t even close to touching.

“Good girls ask for what they want,” he breathes, letting go of one side of your face to brush his fingers down your throat. He admires you like a fine work of art, but there’s a determination in his touch. A plan, something he knows that you don't.

Asking for what you want is easier said than done when you’re fully clothed, let alone when you’re halfway to the best orgasm of your life. You know he just needs a few words, that you want to be good, and that he likes his good girl, but you struggle to breathe around the words while he, one-handed, unclasps your bra and starts caressing your breast.

“Did you hear me, baby?”

You blinked up at him, nodding feverishly.

He presses his thumb against the side of your neck. Your breach catches under the pad of his finger. “Then tell me what you want.”

His pace grinds to an almost total stop; just one hand keeps massaging your breast. You lick your lips, rock forward, and press your sticky forehead to Osamu’s arm. You sniffle, hot tears rolling off your cheek and into the crook of his elbow.

“I can’t,” you babble, barely louder than a whisper. “‘M sorry, I-I can’t.”

“Oh baby, it’s okay. You don’t have to apologize for being my dumb little girl.” At that, at the gentle tone he mocks you with, something snaps in your chest. You feel as if you needed to be broken apart to feel whole again; when your pride shatters, you cry more freely, face blotchy and wet with tears while you cling to Osamu for dear life. Underneath the cracked surface, though, you feel bright and new, shining bright from the trust you give him, and the safety he gives you in return.

Osamu pulls you up by your throat and you yelp, raising your head to stare at him with bleary eyes.

“You’re fucking perfect, just like this,” he assures you. Then, he kisses you slowly, loops his arms around you to make you turn around, then presses you face-first against his desk. You close your eyes and let out a shaky sigh; your knees tremble and your hands buzz, not quite feeling the desk’s smooth surface under the electricity coursing through your veins.

And then Osamu spanks you.

It’s just one slap, and you cry out more in surprise than out of pain. Heat rushes to your ass while you whine, feeling the impact turn into liquid arousal dripping between your slick folds.

“You liked that, didn’t you?”

You nod with all the vigor you can gather. To that, he spanks the other cheek.

“Yes or no, baby?”

“Yes, sir!” you blurt. You squeeze your eyes shut, ready, hoping for another impact that never comes. Instead, you hear a quiet, metallic clink, then ruffling fabric, then the sound of thin plastic tearing.

All signs point to being seconds away from getting your boyfriend’s cock, and your heart stutters with want.

He runs a hand up and down your spine, and you can’t help but note how heavy his grip feels, how he commands you with the lightest of touches. His other hand grabs your hip, holding you steady once he chooses the right position, lines himself up, and pushes into you with ease.

A throaty growl reaches your ears. You feel his day’s frustration melt away with every inch he stretches you open with, feel tension leave his body as soon as the tip of his cock brushes your cervix. All that’s left behind is his hunger, which he chases by picking up the pace as soon as he’s fully stuffed inside you.

Frustration is replaced with an insatiable desire that has him pounding you so hard that his thighs slap against the backs of yours, your ass slams into his hips, and you’re seeing stars. Your lips hang open while you gasp for air, and tears stream down your face, but your head spins, revolving around the bright moon that fills your sky: Osamu, Osamu, Osamu.

You aren’t sure just how many times he spanks you; you’re not counting beats to see if he’s keeping time with the unfair pace of his thrust. All you know is the feeling of clenching hard at every impact, making him groan every time his hand comes down on your ass, and you hear skin on skin, huffs of breath, and feral growls—all behind you.

Osamu.

“Too fucked out—shit—to think, huh baby girl?” He stutters through his words, barely able to form a complete thought of his own while he reaches forward, under your belly to find your clit from above.

As soon as he touches you, you choke on a sob. You register a few words in his voice, but you can’t tell if they’re real, or you’re imagining them.

“It’s—’s okay. I’ll think for ya.”

So fucking tight.

Is this what you wanted, baby?

Wanted to make—make me take out all my anger on you?

My perfect little f-fuckdoll.

Good—good girl. Good fucking girl.

Come, baby girl; come for me right now.

And, because Osamu knows what you want best of all, you do. You snap like a pair of chopsticks, splintering, messy, coming undone in a way that permanently changes your very structure. You feel different, made new, changed into something useful for him to satisfy his hunger.

Your orgasm ripples through you in waves that have you heaving. Warm skin, glassy eyes, wet cheeks, hips pressing back into Osamu to swallow him more. You clamp down on him hard, pussy spasming, sucking him dry, pulling an orgasm from him that has him draped over you: slick with sweat, biting down on your shoulder, hand tangled tightly with yours.

“Fuck,” he whines. Afterglow bubbles in your stomach, leaving you delirious and woozy; all you can do in response is whimper.

“‘Ve gotcha,” he slurs. After massaging his hands into your shoulders and down your sides, he winds his arms around your waist and hoists you up as if you weigh nothing. He balances your head on his shoulder and, in spite of his own wobbly, uneven gait, carries you to sit in his office chair, where you curl up in his lap.

“Sir,” you murmur, reaching to smooth your hands over his chest.

He catches one, presses a kiss to every finger, your palm, and your wrist. “You did so good, baby girl. ‘S over now—you’re safe.”

You bury your face in his neck, too tired to do anything else. But, you do have the fleeting thought that, with him, no matter what you beg him to do to you, “safe” is what you’ll always be.

#osamu smut #miya osamu smut #osamu x reader smut #osamu x you smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader smut #haikyuu x you smut #osamu x you #miya osamu x you #osamu x reader #miya osamu x reader #🌸— mine.#🌸— osamu.

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renalord · 10 months

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༅ pairing: (seperately) suna, matsukawa, bokuto, iwaizumi, atsumu, tanaka, kiyoko, saeko, yachi x fem term!reader

༅ synopsis: they react to your ig post for the first time.

༅ warnings: fem terms used (as stated in pairings), cursing, mention of a gun, mention of death, spit in atsumu's, they love you.

༅ authors note: this was inspired by the lovely @/fuckytown! their work is great, go check them out! inspired by their "first impressions" post. also im back from my indefinitely long hiatus and this was my first post.. i cringed so hard.

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osamusriceballs · 2 months

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The Accident - Final Part

Atsumu x fem Reader

Warnings: Smut

Words: ~ 2,1 k

About: Not much to say- enjoy the ending! <3

Part I II -> Epilogue

"Y/n!"

He smiles and waves when he spots you, his expression soft and excited as he jogs towards you, passing the court in an instant. You notice Sakusa and Hinata on the field too, waving in your direction, and you hear Bokuto calling your name. You return the greeting and wave at him too with a smile.

Atsumu comes to a stop when he finally reaches you, his hands immediately finding your hips and pulling you close. "What's my wifey doing here?" He leans down to peck your lips, his excitement barely concealed.

"I thought you could use some moral support. And maybe some food." You shyly smile and raise the bag in your hand just a little, the Onigiri Miya logo evident on it. "I asked Samu to make something that works with your diet. And I got a dessert for you, the one from the cafe we visited last time." He looks at you softly, his hands still holding your hips tightly, not the slightest bit embarrassed about showing his affection in front of his teammates.

"Thank you. I appreciate that. Yer always so good to me." You blush at his words, trying to wave it off, but he pulls you closer and kisses you again, his lips now firmly pressing against yours. You easily give in, your free hand resting on his biceps, feeling the smooth and hot skin under your fingers, not caring about the fact that he is slightly sweaty by now. The faint sounds of volleyballs meeting the ground are drowned out by the sound of your heartbeat, and a soft gasp escapes your lips when he ever so lightly brushes his tongue against yours. You pull back, clearly flustered, and he grins at your state. "Wanna come over tonight?" You nod with a smile, and he pecks your lips one last time before letting you go.

"Can't wait, wifey."

xxx

"Tsumu!"

You yell, eyes only on him when he is about to serve. You're fully convinced that he can't hear you in the crowd, yet his eyes still flicker to your direction for a second before he focuses on the ball again, the red uniform a stark contrast to his bright hair.

He looks amazing. He's so focused on the game, you can see it in his eyes. This is the final moment of the game—if they manage to score one more point, the game will be over. You can see the pressure on him in his posture, and you can't help but want to hug him and make him feel more at ease.

He's serving, flawlessly as always, and you hold your breath when the other team receives his mean serve—and you find your heart skipping a beat when it's not Atsumu setting the ball after a fast attack from the other team, but rather Kageyama setting the ball and Atsumu attacking—surprisingly, even though you know that he does decent in every position. And you almost cry when his attack scores the final point, and he yells loudly and raises his arm triumphantly. You hug Yachi, who almost had a heart attack during the intense game, and you look up surprised when you see Atsumu staring at you happily and ignoring the cameras and media to come to you.

You're absolutely flabbergasted when he simply hugs you and slightly lifts you off the ground, grabbing your face almost too harshly before he kisses you in front of everyone. You're frozen, the noises of cameras clicking and yelling people almost overwhelming, but you somehow feel safe in his arms, so you just return the kiss and hug him tight too. He still beams from excitement when he pulls back, and you can't help but smile softly before you gently push some strands out of his face. "Congratulations. You did amazing." He smiles even brighter at your words, and you laugh breathlessly.

"Did it all for you. And for Japan. But for you too." He laughs, his chest still heaving heavily, and you can't help but smile softly. "I'm honored. And Japan too."

You press a last longing kiss to his lips and then you slowly let him go. "Now go—you need to get your medal or something. You're a world champion. I'll meet you after that, and we can celebrate." You smile gently, and he laughs happily. "Sure, wifey. I'll get my real reward later." His smile turns smug, and you blush feverishly. "S-sure," you whisper, flustered by his comment and avoid looking at his eyes.

"My real prize."

xxx

"Y/n?"

"Hmm?" you slightly raise your head, just enough to look at his face. You're comfortably cuddled against his chest, a thin blanket thrown over you both while you watch an animated fireplace and listen to slow music. His utterly relaxed expression is slightly crowded with unease, as if he has something on his mind.

"I was thinking... if you maybe wanna to store some clothes here. Like permanently. I made some space in my closet for you. Not like I want ya to move in already, I know most couples wait- but- just saying. There's space. Technically."

You raise your eyebrows, your eyes wide open, and he clears his throat awkwardly. The way he seems so shy and insecure about it—a state that you have never seen on him before. It warms your heart when you think about how nervous he is to ask just this, but it also fills you with excitement and makes your heart flutter.

"So... you wouldn't want me to move in?" You say while you try to suppress your teasing smile and try to seem as serious as you can. You feel his body tensing under your fingers, and his arm that had been loosely caressing your bare lower back under your shirt freezes.

"I didn't say that." He stretches the syllables while he seems to be in an inner conflict. "I just meant that ya might get uncomfortable if you're already moving in. It's only been a few months, I know that most couples wait a bit longer with that." He looks down at you, his tone showing his serious curiosity. "Are you not against moving in?"

You pause, taken aback by the statement, and proceed to think about it. You know that moving in together is a big step- but on the other hand, you both have been married for quite some time. And being together with Atsumu just feels so right—you really don't mind moving in after seven months.

"I'm... not against it, to be honest. It's unconventional, but we're kinda already married, so I think it's fine to skip some steps. here." A deep relieved sigh leaves his lips, and you feel his posture relaxing once again. "Sounds good. I got ya a key on the counter, we can move your stuff gradually, if you want to? But I made a lot of space in my closet actually, you might wanna go shopping to fill it. My treat of course."

You look at him wide-eyed. "You already have a key for me ready?"

He looks away with a faint blush on his cheeks, his hand absently caressing your back again, but now more relaxed while his lips curl into a triumphant grin.

"Maybe."

xxx

"Y/n?"

"Hmm?" You turn towards him and see a letter in his hands.

"That's um..." he clears his throat, his eyes looking anywhere but your direction. "It's from our lawyer. It's about the divorce. The year is over."

You freeze, carefully making your expression neutral while you wait for him to continue.

"It's um... we can—ya know. Wait a bit. I mean—you're busy with work and I'm also busy with Samu's new shop. We can maybe wait just a bit longer. If you want to. No pressure."

And you finally smile when you reach for his shirt and pull him down to press a kiss on his lips.

"Sounds good."

xxx

Tsumu—"

You look up at him in the mirror with pleading eyes, his hand tightly wrapped around your throat.

"Now come on. Tell me, what ya want me to do?" He grins teasingly, knowing fully well that you can't speak with his hand now firmly wrapped around your throat. You manage to gasp his name, and he raises an eyebrow. "What was that? Didn't hear ya, sweetheart. Might wanna try harder here."

You avert your gaze, overwhelmed by the intensity of it and arch your back slightly against him, offering him your neck submissively. A groan leaves his lips and his eyes soften at the sight of you. "So pretty for me. Always so good." He tilts your face and kisses you, the grip around your neck loosening and his free hand wandering to your chest, gently squeezing your body.

His lips are glued to yours, the kiss starting out softly, but quickly turning into a messy clashing of lips melding together and tongues grazing against each other. It's hot, so, so hot when his hand stops palming your chest and moves further down your stomach, causing you to gasp and whine against his lips as you tense under his touch until his hand stops between your legs. He doesn't stop the kiss, instead keeping one hand loosely around your neck while the palm of the other hand cups your pussy and presses against it. Your hips buck into his touch and you break the kiss embarrassedly after a lewd needy sound escapes your lips.

"What was that?" He asks, a bit breathlessly, but his lips curl into a smug grin. "Gettin' shy on me? You know that I love those pretty sounds. Especially when I do—this—" Two of his fingers push inside of you with no further warning and your body almost bends over at the feeling, but his hand quickly moves from your neck around your upper body to press you tightly against him. "Uh-uh, pretty wifey. Not escaping yer husband. I need to fulfill my duties after all, right? Satisfy my wife and all that. Look at ya, how you enjoy that, huh?" He slowly pumps his fingers in and out of you, the squelching sound making you whine embarrassedly, yet it feels so good that your eyes flutter closed and your mouth stays agape. He brings you to your high like this and holds you when you tense around his fingers, clenching tightly around him like a vice, his name leaving your lips breathlessly.

"Tsumu—" you whisper, your voice hoarse, but your body feeling so good and satisfied, and he softly pulls his fingers out with a lewd sound. "Oh, love, you made such a mess, huh?" He looks at his fingers with a grin and then down to your pussy, his tongue quickly coming out to lick his lips.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of ya."

xxx

"Tsumu—do we have to go out? We could also relax at home. Watch that movie maybe. Or... do different things." You smile a bit shyly as you hug his arm and press your chest against his biceps in a way that you hope is seductive.

He freezes for a second and then shakes his head. "As tempting as that offer is, we have plans. Or I have made plans. For us." He wraps his arm around your waist and directs you towards a building—that looks suspiciously familiar to you. "Tsumu— is that—no way! Why are we here?" Your eyes grow even bigger when you recognize the building, but he ignores your comment and simply pushes you forward. "C'mon, we have an appointment—and you need to get ready," he grins, but you can see a faint hint of nervousness in his eyes when he opens the door and reveals the club where you had met during your first day. Your jaw drops when you see the decorations—all in a classical wedding style, like the pictures you often like on Pinterest. "Tsumu—don't tell me—"

"Y/n." You hear his voice firmly, and you look at him, who suddenly lets go of you and looks at you a bit mischievously before he smoothly sinks down to one knee.

"I can't remember the first time I did this, but I promise, I won't forget this time. I wanna do everything right, Y/n. Marry you properly, be your husband and care for you."

You look at him, feeling tears dwell in your eyes when you realize how he has spent the last few weeks preparing this—and you bite your lip to avoid a sob when he pulls out a ring—similar to the one he had given you last time, yet even more beautiful.

"Will ya marry me?

xxx

A/n: Thank you so much for following this series! I'll make an epilogue about the night they met around next week-ish! But after that, that's it for the series! I hope you enjoyed and stay tuned for the next one! <3

#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #atsumu #atsumu smut #atsumu x reader #hope you enjoyed <3 #I'm sorry for the belated post #But here you go #it's a bittersweet experience to end such a project #but I'm happy to start a new one #I'll rewrite an old series of mine #a love triangle with Atsumu and Suna #and tbh #i still haven't decided about the ending #It will come to me as I reread it and continue writing it!#anyways!#love you! <3 #and I hope you'll stay tuned ! <3

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millenialfanfictionaddiction · 1 year

Note

I love your writing so much and you seem to always brighten my day! So, I just wanted to ask if I can, could you do a chubby manager where she gets bullied because of it and the teams stand up for her and help her. I have been having bad mental health days and this will really help me. But of course if you don't want to it's totally okay. Just asking for consideration! (If you do pick this can you do Karasuno, and Shoji and if you do one that's totally okay 👍) ☺️♥️

Hi there! So my full headcanon requests are currently closed BUT this request definitely hits home for me. I’ve always been tall and chubby and use to get bullied constantly for both. I’m really sorry you are struggling mentally and I hope this can bring you a little smile 😊

I’m going to put it below the cut because it might be triggering to some

TW: Bullying, fat shaming

Being Karasuno’s Manager:

Miss Manager gets bullied

for her Weight

Karasuno (guest appearance by Seijoh, Shiratorizawa and Date Tech) x fem! Reader (she/her)

Warnings: swearing, fat shaming, bullying, reader cries, threatening words, Tanaka thinking he’s a bad ass, Tsukishima taking care of it 💅

First off, Karasuno is B L E S S E D

Come on, 3 managers???

Ugh say less!

Hinata now thinks they are a super powerhouse

Suga says that’s not a real thing

Kageyama kicks Hinata for saying something so stupid 🙄

Anyways, you are a first year like Yachi

Actually Yachi dragged you into this because she was nervous

She had told you about this hot girl who had approached her and asked her to be the boys volleyball manager

You were a bit nervous to say the least

It wasn’t necessarily because your were athletic or didn’t know anything about volleyball

But, in the past, you’d been bullied about your size

And of course, these guys were athletes and they would be fit

To your surprise, however, they said nothing about your weight

Heck they didn’t even seem to notice you were plus sized

Literally all you had to do was breathe YN and these boys would faint 😂

Karasuno treats all their managers like queens and is super protective

They adored you, Yachi and Kiyoko so much and appreciated everything you did for them

You threw them a towel? Eternally grateful 🙌🏻

Filled their water bottle? Excessive thank you’s

Took detailed notes? Framed them and read them everyday

Literally it would be hard to find a more thankful team!

However, not everyone was as nice as Karasuno

You’d faced bullies in middle school and high school

Thankfully most of the people at your high school were pretty decent and nice

But when tournaments came around 👀

Well let’s just say not everyone extended a warm welcome

It was inter high and you were tasked with filling up the water bottles

Honestly, it was your favorite task because you didn’t have to deal with Hinata and Kageyama fighting or Noya and Tanaka peacocking in front of the other team 🙄

As you filled the bottles, you noticed a group of guys gathering behind you

You thought nothing of it, thinking that maybe they were waiting for the water fountain

After you finished, you moved out of the way, turning to smile at them

“You can have the water fountain now! Sorry I was filling up my teams bottles!”

The guys all stared at you with disgust on their faces before one spoke up

“There was no way we could get to the fountain anyways with you taking up that much space.”

The guys all burst in laughter as you watched them

At first, you didn’t think it was due to your size and maybe you were just in the middle of both fountains

“Oh I’m sorry. I would have moved over for you.”

The guys all just laughed as another one spoke

“Not like we’d have any space with your fat ass taking up both fountains!”

Hearing this worlds, your heart instantly sank

But those idiots weren’t done 😑

Because if there’s anything we know about bullies, it’s that they do so to make themselves feel better

And these dummies must have really been feeling like shit…

“Honestly I didn’t even know there were two fountains behind her she’s so big!”

“Damn she’s like a walking billboard for Karasuno!”

The guys laughed as tears began to fill your eyes and your lip began to quiver

These guys were jerks who were hitting every one of your insecurities

And worst of all, you were frozen as the tears began to fall

“Awe did we make the baby hippo cry?” One of the laughed

You tried your hardest to move but you were frozen, unable to run from the bullies

However 👀👀 as luck would have it, you weren’t alone

Because Yachi had been sent to help you

And she saw the entire exchange 😌

She quickly turned, running back to the gym to grab the guys

Kiyoko saw Yachi frantically running and asked her what happened. Panting, Yachi recalled the events

Instantly the atmosphere in the gym changed

Without saying a word, Daichi, Noya and Tanaka took off

The rest of the team following quickly behind

Even Tsukishima was moving quickly 😱

When they say you, still standing there and crying

Oh boy : D

I would not want to be those bullies right about now

Kiyoko and Yachi ran to you and hugged you

“Are you ok Yn?” Kiyoko asked as you shook your head and cried harder

Oof- someone prepare the burial grounds because it’s about to go D O W N

Daichi walked right up to them and got in their face, Suga, Tanaka and Noya right on his heels

“What the hell did you just say to our manager?” Daichi boomed as your head shot up to see the team right in front of you

“What us? Nothing we were just waiting for the water fountain,” one of the jerks said as Suga glared at them

“That’s not what we heard you were doing,” Suga spoke as Tanaka and Noya began to crack their knuckles

By this time, a crowd was starting to gather

Seijoh, Shiratorizawa, Date tech…

The whole gangs here!

And let me just say, they do not look happy

“We heard you said something to our BEAUTIFUL Manager. Mind repeating that…” Tanaka said, cracking his neck from side to side

The guys faces began to pale as Karasuno’s eyes burned with anger

You didn’t want anyone to fight because you knew that they could get kicked out of the tournament

“Guys hey it’s ok, let’s just go,” you said, wiping your eye as Kiyoko and Yachi grabbed your arm

“I think we need to teach these jerks a lesson!” Noya snarled

Nobody was going to stop this

Literally Kunimi was filming because he knew Karasuno was not to be messed with

Heck even Oikawa and Iwaizumi were ready to back Karasuno up!

And because jerks don’t know how to keep their mouths shut, they continued to fan the flames

“Come on guys, she’s huge! How can we not comment on that? I mean I felt the floors move when she walked here!” One of them chuckled

Wrong thing to say bestie

“Let’s take this outside!” Tanaka said, grabbing the jerk by the collar and pulling him towards the exit

The other bullies tried to intervene but were stopped by the wall of Date Tech

“Yeah you ain’t going nowhere,” Futakuchi smirked as Aone glared at the boys

The bullies rn 👉🏻👁️👄👁️

“Hey man let me go! Listen I’m sorry ok!” The one being dragged by Tanaka cried

You didn’t want anyone to get hurt or expelled from the tournament because of you

You stood tall, wiping your eyes as you left Kiyoko and Yachi’s side

“YN wait!” Yachi yelled as you approached Tanaka and the bully

“Tanaka please don’t! I don’t want you to get hurt or kicked out! Karasuno has worked too hard for this,” you spoke as Tanaka looked from you to the bully

He shoved the bully to the ground as he glared down at him

“You’re lucky city boy!”

You breathed a sigh of relief as Tanaka walked away, grabbing your hand

Unfortunately the bully and his now broken ego weren’t don’t 🙄

“I knew Karasuno was a bunch of wimps!”

Daichi, Noya and Tanaka turned around and were ready

“Let’s go city boy! Two hits, I hit you, you hit the ground!” Tanaka shouted

Before you could stop them, they tore down fr towards the boy

Your eyes widened in shock as you prepared for a fight

But thankfully, an Angel shined down from the heavens

An Angel in the form of one tall, rather salty first year

The king of comebacks, Tsukishima 💅

“A bunch of wimps? You’re the one picking on a girl who was filling up water bottles for her team,” Tsukishima spat as Daichi, Noya and Tanaka halted

Everyone turned to look at Tsukishima who had now walked over to the boy and was looking over him

“Where is your manager? Oh wait, you don’t even have one do you? Jealous much? Or maybe it’s because your pathetic asses can’t find any girls who are even remotely interested in being your managers.”

The bully glared up at Tsukishima was was now smirking

“Werent you that team who couldn’t even make it past the first round last time? Yeah that’s right you got your asses handed to you in straight sets.”

“Yeah well at least our team doesn’t isn’t known as being fallen champions!” The bully spat back as Tsukishima laughed, bending over and making eye contact with the jerk

“At least people know who we are, nobody even knows your name.”

“Yeah well-”

“And now that everyone does know who you are, I think they all want to crush you,” Suga added as the boy gulped, looking around at everyone who was glaring at him

“Gee I wonder who your first opponent is?” Oikawa interjected

“That would be us,” Ushiwaka said, arms crossed and glaring at the man

“Oh I’d hate to be your right now!” Tendo laughed, coming from behind Ushiwaka

The boy got to his feet as Tsukishima continued to smirk, everyone still staring at him

“Come on man let’s get out of here,” one of his teammates said

The bully just scoffed before turning around and walking away

Everyone watched as they left for their gym before turning to you

“Are you ok Yn?” Asahi asked as you nodded

“I’ll be ok thank you but you guys didn’t have to do that,” you softly spoke

“No way we were going to sit back and let someone say those things YN!” Hinata shouted

“Yeah that’s why we turned Tsuki lose on his ass!” Yamaguchi smiled

“Shut up Tadashi,” Tsuki said as he began walking back the gym

“Sorry you had to deal with that Yn. If you ever need help, don’t be afraid to ask,” Iwaizumi stepped up

“We are perfectly capable of protecting our manager but thanks,” Daichi growled

“Ok enough of that, let’s go,” Suga said, pushing Daichi back to the gym

Kiyoko took your hand and began to walk away when Ushiwaka stepped in your way

“I will crush them for you Yn,” he said, voice monotone and face passive

You just smiled wide before hugging him

Ushijima 👉🏻😐🫂

Everyone else 👉🏻😳😱

“What the hell Yn where is my hug? I was ready to mess up my spiking hand for you!” Tanaka cries as Ennoshita smacked him

You rolled your eyes before hugging the winged spiker

Tanaka, acting like he’s never been hugged by a girl before 👉🏻👁️💧👄💧👁️

“I WANT A HUG TOO YN!”

“ME TOO!”

“YN look what you started!” Daichi yelled as a line had now formed in front of you, all the guys wanting a hug

Don’t worry YN, he could never be mad at you for long 🥰

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creative-crybaby · 1 year

Text

Birds of a Feather (Flock Together)

PAIRING: yan!timeskip!Kageyama Tobio x fem!reader

GENRE: smut | dark content (18+)

Minors DNI

TAGS + WARNINGS: yandere themes, toxic friendship, nipple play, light manhandling, semi-public sex, creampie

Let me know if I missed anything.

WORD COUNT: 6.6k

SUMMARY: What was supposed to be a helping hand became an unhealthy relationship when Kageyama mistakes your kindness for something more. All characters are 18+

@creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify

Now that you think about it, you’ve always been too nice for your own good.

Not that it’s your fault. Your parents raised you that way; show kindness to others whenever the opportunity presented itself. The limit of knowing when to stop never came up, opting to believe that your positive behaviour would be contagious. Wishful thinking, of course. You don’t blame your parents for those drawbacks—their boundless optimism, perhaps, but that’s all.

You wished reality showed some mercy when slapping you across the face. Sooner, too, maybe.

When you especially wished for a backbone, you were in your first year of high school, standing before your anxious friend after offering your help. You know her pretty well, having gone to the same middle school; your brain saw no reason to process possible consequences. (Not like you could ever predict your current outcome, anyway.) If anything, the muscle was too busy thinking about how the blonde’s spine would break eventually. No ill feelings behind the idea, but it doesn’t stop your brows from furrowing in guilt.

You worried for Yachi, that’s all. And with her bent over at a 90° angle before you, a position you both seem familiar with, you couldn’t help but sigh.

“Hey,” you began softly. The sheepish blonde didn’t budge, and it wasn’t until you said her name a bit louder did she tilt her head to peer up at you. “It’s no problem, okay? I’d be happy to help. Besides,” you quipped with a smile for good measure, and your classmate rose from her deep bow, though kept her position so you remained above her, “this could look good on a resumé, no?”

By now, Yachi’s posture returned to normal as she offered a nervous chuckle. “I guess you’re right. It’s just that those two can be a handful sometimes, especially with each other. I don’t want to put any stress on you.”

Your arms crossed as you arched a brow, considering the new volleyball manager’s words. “Then, how about I take care of one of them and you keep the other? It’ll be easier to help if you focus on one person’s struggles, and that way they won’t bicker all the time.” A small smile graced her lips as she pondered your idea, and you leaned forward curiously. “You make them sound like an old married couple. There’s no way they’re that bad, are they?”

Yachi’s eyes widened ever so slightly before she frantically shook her hands in front of her.

“No, no, no!” she insisted, voice raising a bit more than probably intended. A few classmates paused their conversations to glance at you two; you waved them off apologetically. “I don’t mean to make them sound terrible or anything! It’s just that they care so much about their club that,” she paused, searching for the right words, “they can’t seem to focus on anything else.”

You hummed, head tilting in thought. A valid concern, but it was a drawback most teens had with studying. Not that you needed to remind Yachi: with keeping up with a team where she somewhat understands the sport, tutoring her teammates and keeping up with her schoolwork, stating the obvious may not put her at ease.

Instead, you grinned reassuringly, and light pink dusted across the blonde’s cheeks. “Nothing I can’t handle. I got this.”

It didn’t take long to find your tutee upon entering Class 1-3. Based on Yachi’s description, you were sure you’d seen him a few times in the hallway, a scowl seemingly stuck on his face. That expression remained as he stared at whatever was in his notebook. And with other students in the room tiptoeing as they passed his desk, you were even more sure that was who you were looking for.

“Kageyama.” Despite your voice’s volume as you attempted to gain his attention, your tone carried its usual gentleness. It did the trick, his frown softening as his brows lowered to a neutral expression. Not as intimidating as his previous look, but you understood where Yachi’s hesitance came from as she tried to describe him.

“You’re Yachi’s friend?” It sounded more like a statement than a question, but you nodded. He hummed. “What’s your name again?”

You are–were–kind, not a saint. The question irked you, having put effort into knowing who he is and how he worked to help him raise his grades. He can’t bother to remember your name? Surely, Yachi gave it to him.

There’s no need to get mad, you remembered. Reminded. Wired. It was just introductions; give him a chance. Give him as many as he’ll need to open up in his own way. Yachi said he wasn’t the best at communication. He’s trying. You were both trying.

You gave him your name with a smile.

The first lesson had more to do with diving deeper into his brain than helping him study. With only a summarized description to go by, you needed more information.

Kageyama understood onomatopoeias better than imagery. Tone flew over his head while clear instructions prepared him for the journey ahead. Studying English and Japanese had their wins and losses. (Mostly the latter, though some battles must be lost to win the war.)

The next couple of sessions weren’t any different. You wondered if the environment distracted the setter, and while it didn’t appear that way, you suggested meeting up at the library. A minor improvement, though his brain’s wiring still wasn’t completely translated to you.

Whenever you and Yachi sat together for lunch to update each other on the tutoring, you tossed in some enthusiasm in your tone as you promised her you were getting there. Following up was a back-and-forth of the blonde insisting that you could back out of the deal whenever and you assuring her that everything was going smoothly. (Can’t say “fine.” No one believes in fine anymore.)

Now, you observed the twitch of Kageyama’s eye as he glared at the graphs, angles and equations in his notebook. You didn’t blame him: not when you were slowly running out of methods to help him.

As time passed, so did his patience. The ravenette slammed his notebook onto his desk with a groan, hands flying to slap his face, making you jump in your seat across from him. Other students flinched as they turned to face the commotion, whispering to one another before trying to look away.

“This is a waste of my time,” Kageyama muttered.

That makes two of us, a fleeting thought grumbled. You swatted it away, ignoring the tightening of your chest.

His glare trailed toward the window to his left, muttering about how he could be improving his technique—or rather, something more about a certain pipsqueak needing to work on his spikes.

You hummed. “Tell me about volleyball.”

His gaze snapped to you, brows still furrowed, though curiosity replaced the aggression in his eyes. “What about it?”

“Whatever you want,” you shrugged, placing your pencil on the desk. “I only really know the basics of the sport, but there’s no use stressing yourself out over something you’re stuck on. Consider this a little break.”

A slight pout formed on his lips, either from hesitation or pondering where to begin.

Kageyama lived and breathed volleyball. Not his words verbatim, but his rambling told you as such. He knew his strengths and his weaknesses (even if he’d rather not discuss them), and his irritation toward his teammate sounded like complaints on the surface. Still, it came from high expectations and confidence in the ginger’s potential, and it wasn’t until he rambled on about A passes and C passes did a light flick in your brain.

“There it is!” you exclaimed, a grin tugging the corners of your lips. You slid the notebook closer to the setter. “Try what you were just explaining to me and add it into these questions.”

It took him a few seconds to process the order, his head tilting to the side as that pout returned. A cute look on him, but that wasn’t relevant then, nor now.

“What, my passes?” Kageyama blinked, and it seemed to click.

You nodded. “You’re so precise with your sets. Just apply all the knowledge to these situations. It may not be exactly the same thing, but it’s possible.”

Kageyama looked at you for a bit before returning his attention to his notebook, taking his time looking over the written words before skating his pencil across the paper. You figured Yachi was exaggerating when she told you about his passion for the sport, but that assumption went out the window soon enough. But weaknesses can be strengths if you view them from a different angle, and soon the setter’s distraction became his motivation.

Not all the questions he answered were correct, but the improvement was impossible to miss. You beamed, praising him for finding his way. Despite his resting face, Kageyama’s eyes shined from the encouragement, his posture straightening ever so slightly. The baby pink dusting his cheeks didn’t go unnoticed by you, either, and you had to refrain from cooing. Holding back a chuckle as he stammered an invitation to his team’s next practice match wasn’t possible, and you agreed should he continue to work hard.

The study session ended early, with you wishing the ravenette good luck at practice and his upcoming quiz. You slouched while walking in the opposite direction, pride washing over you like a warm shower. An accomplishment, a job well done. Completed.

You remembered thinking how you could only go uphill from there, academically speaking. What else was there? Aside from volleyball, there wouldn’t be anything else to worry about, and you weren’t even responsible for that department. All you could do was observe the sport and those who play it, learning bit by bit as you cheered for your school’s volleyball club.

You didn’t know the opposing team or their capabilities, though you could only assume they were a challenge. Yachi sat beside you, scribbling notes and occasionally explaining whatever she learned herself.

“I heard you found a way to help Kageyama,” she said between sets. “How’d that go?”

As if he heard you, the setter trailed his gaze toward you two, giving you a curt nod before drinking from his water bottle. You returned a small smile before giving your attention to your blonde friend.

“Figured things out a few sessions in,” you responded as the remnants of pride from that day of discovery still swirling in your chest. “He should get the hang of it soon enough. I’m sure getting to stay in this club is more than enough motivation for him.”

Yachi perked up at the news. “That’s great! Thanks again for helping out. I owe you bigtime.”

“Don’t say that.” You shook your head with a giggle. “How’s your tutoring process coming along?”

Movement teased the corner of your eye, but the shriek that echoed throughout the gym was impossible to ignore. Your attention went to the source, and the new manager almost dropped her notebook at the sound.

Kageyama held a death grip on a ginger teammate–Hinata’s–hair, roughly tugging the locks as he glared at the shorter teen. The latter continued to beg, though aside from who you could only assume to be the team captain, no one paid them any mind. As the senior student handled the situation, the setter caught your gaze. His glare faltered, but his frown didn’t disappear as he seemingly analyzed your expression. He walked away with a huff, and soon enough, the second set began.

It was normal, apparently. You got to interact with a few of the other teammates, one of which–Tanaka, if you remembered correctly–barked out a laugh as he assured that Kageyama and Hinata fought like an old married couple all the time. You weren’t sure what kind of elders he’s been around, but so long as the explanation put you at ease, you’d take it.

You eventually got used to the random quarrels as well. A deal was made between the setter and you that you’d see his games should he continue to work hard academically. Or rather, he’d let you know when his upcoming practice matches would be like you’d already planned on showing up. Not that it bothered you; it was probably his way of connecting with you outside of tutoring, and with your first impressions of him, you assumed making friends wasn’t his forte.

The only downside is that you also had your own club to go to. The boys’ volleyball team didn’t have practice matches too often, so you had yet to miss any, at most showing up a bit late as you’d wrap up your club’s meeting for the day. You’d catch Kageyama with his usual frown until he found you’d shown up, and his expression would soften as he straightened his posture. Having already been in the game, he couldn’t say anything about your tardiness, so you’d sneak to the balcony and observe from above, cheering on a little harder to make up for it. After the game, he’d approach you with a pout, though he’d only discuss the match with you.

It was late fall when you first missed a match. Kageyama informed you a few days prior, as you helped him with Modern Japanese, that a practice game would partake. You thought nothing of it until that day arrived, and you had yet to dismount your seat in your own clubroom. The calligraphy club was pretty straightforward, though that day, there was a meeting, one you barely recalled as your eyes continuously glanced at the clock. Along with cleaning up the classroom, you lost more time than expected, and rushing to the gymnasium did little to fix the issue.

The game was in its second set by the time you arrived. The first thing you noticed upon entering the gym was the starting setter’s head whipping toward your direction. His alertness subsided, but his gaze stayed on you for a few seconds too many before he served the ball. You assumed things would go as usual, with you sneaking to your designated spot and watching the match until it was over.

It wasn’t until the opponents requested a time-out did you discover how wrong you were. While the other boys went to fetch water and towels, Kageyama stomped over to you, his sweat-slicked bangs hovering over his eyes in a way that made his glare all the more intimidating.

“Where were you?” His voice was of normal volume, but his tone matched his furious expression perfectly. Your body froze.

“I had this thing,” you stammered. “My club meeting took longer than I thought, and—”

“I was waiting for you,” he seethed, stepping closer. “I even asked Coach to wait a bit so you could make it. I shouldn’t even have to make excuses for tardiness. You couldn’t have told your club that you had places to be?”

Your mouth went dry as he got louder, and by now, most of his teammates were watching the commotion. You’ve seen him frustrated, sure, angry on bad days, too. At least he’d take it out on his homework.

Still, your habit of patience was second nature, even when it wasn’t called for. “I’m sorry—”

“Kageyama.” Daichi was behind the ravenette with a hand on his shoulder before you could further explain yourself. His tone was stern, sharp even, but nowhere near as intimidating as what you received. A warning. “Go take a breather, why don’t you?”

The setter’s gaze stayed on you a little longer than necessary. He scoffed before walking away, his back facing you as he sipped from his water bottle. You politely dismissed the captain’s apology on his junior’s behalf, assuring him you were all right.

“His Majesty’s probably just upset his girlfriend couldn’t watch him show off,” you heard Tsukishima mutter to Yamaguchi. You weren’t sure if he intended for you to catch his comment, but he wasn’t exactly out of earshot, only a couple of feet away. Regardless, you didn’t bother responding. It didn’t take long for everyone else to leave the little incident in the past, and the tall blonde’s snarky words lingered in your brain for the remainder of the match.

No one else showed up to watch these games. You were there for the tournaments, too; aside from Tanaka’s older sister and a few of the coach’s old friends, the boys’ volleyball club didn’t have much moral support. Much less Kageyama, from what you could tell. You’ve heard about his behaviour back in middle school from Hinata and Tsukishima, the latter with taunts, and the new fragments of information added pieces to the puzzle.

Kageyama was trying. He didn’t always succeed, but it didn’t stop him from attempting to steer away from the tyrannical path he was heading. You’ve seen him reach for Tanaka’s high-fives, albeit with a confused expression, but it didn’t falter his senior’s enthusiasm. His compliments (if you could even call them that) came out as awkward and forced when he gave them to Hinata after the ginger won a point, and he wasn’t afraid to ask Azumane if he needed to adjust his sets to suit the Ace.

Maybe you were supposed to be his tutor and nothing more. Maybe it would’ve been better that way. But with very little assistance and even lesser options, Kageyama might have considered your listening to his ramblings as a sign of friendship. You supported him in staying on the team, and now you’re watching him flourish as a result. That’s what friends do—it was only fair for him to ask you to stay as such. You’d ask yourself why not indulge, though you were probably in too deep to call it that anymore.

The following morning, you find Kageyama waiting by the school entrance, two milk cartons in each hand and a strained apology on the tip of his tongue. You smiled, the two of you sipping on your refreshments as you waited for the first bell to ring.

Your calligraphy club disbanded at the beginning of your second year. You weren’t all that surprised at the time: there were barely enough students for it to exist in the first place. Why certain members decided to leave was beyond you, but you saw no point in pushing them to stay if they didn’t want to. Still, you missed your club: you were left to your own devices, the black ink dancing across paper lulling you to a place of comfort.

It was Yachi who suggested you joined the boys’ volleyball club as another manager. She figured you learned some things from Kageyama here and there while tutoring him, and she has no problem helping you catch up.

“Besides,” the blonde smiled, handing you the sign-up sheet, “it’s pretty lonely now that Shimizu graduated. It’d be nice to have a friend around.” You take the paper from her, staring at it somewhat skeptically. You didn’t voice your hesitance, and after a few seconds of silence, your friend added, “I’m sure the others will be happy to have you around, too.”

With how often you dropped by to watch the team practice and compete, the club members have grown to know you. It didn’t take too long for you to warm up to them, too, usually sitting with Ennoshita, Kinoshita and Narita and having them explain the gameplay whenever you were lost. Otherwise, it was mainly Kageyama who kept you to himself either because you had time to assist him in his studies or simply because he wanted your attention.

You later found out it was his idea to have you join the team as another manager, and Yachi agreed immediately. Who would complain about that? Another sweet and pretty girl to help and cheer them on was a dream come true for most. You were the only one that had yet to vocalize content, and you handed in the application sheet soon after receiving it.

Even with the progress, you still tutored Kageyama. Seeing him more often after classes only gave you more opportunity to support him, especially when Coach Ukai would remind certain members to keep their grades up.

Not that any of this bothered the setter. He had no problem having you continue helping him with his schoolwork. He’d listen to your instructions, try out new learning techniques whenever he struggled on a particular unit and remained patient (by his standards, anyway) with you when things didn’t work out.

You had no issue continuing your support. You knew Kageyama was trying his best, even when his brain could only focus on volleyball, and you figured you could still learn more about how he interacted with others as he tried to come out of his shell.

His one-track mind came to a disadvantage at times. When Hinata suggested studying as a group, Kageyama quickly shut the idea down. He’d sometimes go on tangents about strategies and new techniques for the sport while you tried to help him. Tanaka and Nishinoya would quip that the setter had a crush on you and didn’t know how to express it, though you knew better than to take those two seriously. Kageyama told you that becoming a manager would be more suitable for your future than your previous club. He’s grown used to your routine of getting all your attention for tutoring, and having others there would throw him off his game. As for his rants, he’s merely passionate about the sport—you don’t need a reminder.

So, you became a manager for the boys’ volleyball club, continued your one-on-one tutoring sessions and instructed him to only speak of team strategies in English as practice. And you do so until you graduate.

It’s where the connection between you and Kageyama seemingly disappeared, set ablaze before dwindling into disintegration. He didn’t even give you the time to say goodbye to your friends outside the club before asking them if he could steal you away. (It was more of a declaration—the questioning tone was a mere formality.)

“Ready to take your volleyball career to the next level?” You didn’t know what else to say: not after the abrupt isolation. He’s brought you one of the many hidden corners the school had to offer, away from all the other graduates and their loved ones. Sakura petals fluttered through their descent, softening an otherwise overwhelming atmosphere full of completed chapters and new beginnings. You read manga: it felt like prince charming would swoop in with a confession, second gakuran button in hand. Having blueberry eyes boring into your awaiting frame in such an environment should make the butterflies in your stomach perform their very own acrobatics number, the anticipation eating you from the inside out. And it did, the churning in your belly boiling your face as you tried to meet his gaze. Kageyama’s resting face was always a disadvantage regarding his approachability, but with three years of getting to know him under your belt, you still felt a ghost’s kisses up your spine.

“Obviously,” he answered. You would have chuckled at the comment in your first year of high school. But even the smile you’ve managed to muster no longer seemed convincing. Part of you wondered if you could find your friends once more to keep in touch before you all left. “I should be asking you that, though.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, yet you kept the corners of your lips upwards. “I don’t know if being a manager for a volleyball team counts as a volleyball career.”

Kageyama didn’t laugh at your quip. You didn’t expect him to, but his response caught you off-guard.

“When will you be joining me?”

Your tiring performance of halo and white wings evaporated at his question, brows further creasing as your smile dropped. A clear indication of confusion, though a hint of offence found its way into the mix.

“What are you talking about?” Your body instinctively inched closer to your corner. The setter noticed.

“One of the biggest reasons I’ve managed to get as far as I am with volleyball is because of you,” he stated. “From helping me keep my grades up to becoming manager. I can grow to adjust to any team I become a part of, but I need someone who gets me to be by my side if I want to continue to prosper in my career.”

The butterflies once performing in your belly dropped dead before they had the chance to bow. The love confession you dismissively thought of boomed with laughter as it slapped you across the back. Your lungs were empty as your brain progressed his words, your face slowly morphing from one expression to another.

Did you do this?

“Kageyama,” you began, barely knowing where to go without a map, “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, but that’s not the path I’m taking.” His resting face grew sour. You forced yourself to continue. “I’m flattered, but really, you did most of the work. I just gave you a little push.” Kind words didn’t weaken the blow—his staredown didn’t falter. “I have a life outside of the sport. I’m no prodigy. I don’t work anywhere near as hard as you do. I don’t feel the same about volleyball the way you do—”

“Bullshit.”

The snap from harsh lips forced yours shut. You shrank back once more, a scolded child fearing further punishment.

You dared to glance at him. Kegayama was seething, leaning forward with clenched fists and jaw. You didn’t want to peer out to the crowd; had anyone heard him? They either didn’t or were too afraid to jump in. You knew you would be, too.

“You think some sweet talk is going to make any of this okay?” His voice grew in volume, and you flinched. “You learned past the basics, you understand strategy better than the average player. You’re throwing it all out the window for what? That damn club you were in before had nothing to offer. I can vouch for you if you just follow me.”

There he was: King of the Court. You always thought Tsukishima would exaggerate to gain a reaction, but that title came to be for a reason. You just never thought you’d fall victim to it.

“Look, I’m sorry if I led you on,” even in a situation like this, your feelings seemed to fall to a second priority, “but I’m telling you now that I don’t love the sport as much as you think I do. It’s not in my future.”

“I showed you opportunity and you throw it back in my face,” he sneered, getting closer.

“I joined because of Yachi and my old club disbanding,” you defended, voice quivering. “I don’t understand why you’re yelling at me.”

A petal landed on your cheek, and you went to brush it away until you discovered the soft touch was a stray tear. It seemed enough to silence him, if only momentarily, though his glare remained just as deadly.

He wanted to say something; you knew he did. More words of anger, most likely, but he tightened his jaw instead, opting to walk away after giving you a final look of disdain.

You didn’t hear the hopeful and cheerful banter between graduates, nor did you catch Yachi calling your name until she laid a hand on your shoulder, snapping you out of your daze. Kageyama lingered in your head for the remainder of that day; no harsh words in particular—mainly the darkening of his blue eyes as his tone became aggressive. Part of you thought you also heard a twinge of betrayal, but after such a whiplash of a confrontation, you weren’t sure you could recall that moment in your state.

Wherever he was during the remainder of graduation, you didn’t see him.

To be more precise, you didn’t see him afterwards, either. With moving to another prefecture for school and time passing by, you eventually put that memory behind you. That isn’t to say it didn’t make your body temperature drop; on the rare occasions Kageyama would be brought up, the daggers his eyes threw your way would flash in your mind. Of course, you saw no reason to voice the issue—you only ever heard about him from Yachi whenever you’d catch up, which isn’t as often as you’d like. From what you know, he’s out of the country, furthering his career like you assumed he would. And while the setter was right about how being manager brought more skills and opportunities, your studies had nothing to do with volleyball.

Neither does your career.

You never thought you’d set foot in Italy, much less work there after university. Your parents told you that your kindness paid off, much to your irritation. (Was school not already enough of a hassle? And the extracurriculars? The people?)

Even though the conversation was over the phone, you found yourself putting on a smile as you told them about taking the opportunity, your tone hopeful as if you still needed their permission.

It took you who knows how long to realize you didn’t. And as soon as it hit you, you packed your bags and flew halfway across the world with barely the basics of the Italian language in your brain and newfound perseverance in your heart.

Whatever bits and pieces made you a doormat evaporated into the air as that airplane took off to your new home, and you planned on making what should be the next chapter of your life a completely different book.

Easier said than done, of course.

The last person you’d expect to see at this pub meets your gaze, and your eyes widen from instant recognition.

Kageyama hasn’t changed all that much. His resting face is hard to miss, the light crease in his brows making him appear far angrier than he is. And with his increase in height and muscle, his intimidation goes up, too. His hair is also somewhat shorter, though that’s all regarding his changes.

You continue to gawk at him, though his expression remains calm like you two were back in high school and you showed up to one of his games. You should be there.

He’s wearing his jersey, you realize, and grouped up with other men in the same attire. You don’t recognize the team; you haven’t been keeping track of the setter’s career.

One of his teammates follows his stare, and Kageyama mumbles something before approaching you. You don’t hear what the other man says in return, your attention stuck on your old high school friend. (Can you still call him that? Could you ever have called him that?)

He says your name; your feet plant themselves on the ground. “It’s been a while.”

You blink away the myriad of emotions before nodding. “Still playing volleyball.”

It wasn’t a question, but it doesn’t make you feel any less stupid for bringing it up. Kageyama tilts his head back a bit, motioning to his team with a hum. “Yeah.”

“Can’t say I’m all that surprised,” you try to quip, your fingers toying with the hem of your shirt. Even if the ravenette’s height wasn’t a prominent factor, he’d still tower over you with how his eyes bore into your frame.“Last I heard, you joined Schweiden Adlers.”

His frown deepens. “I’m part of Ali Roma now.”

You bite your lip, your face growing warm. Kageyama appears offended, what with how he slightly tilts his head back for his eyes to look down on you. His brows furrow more, and you’re surprised you still remember his quirks even after all these years.

“An Italian team? Congratulations!” You don’t mention living in the same country, working on the same soil where he now lives and breathes his beloved sport. In fact, you don’t say anything for a little too long, and your eyes glance behind him. “Well, I wouldn’t want to keep you from your team. It was nice seeing—”

“Don’t worry about them,” he says, moving towards you. “I plan on catching up with you. They’ll understand.”

He’s making you approach a corner booth, and neither your feet nor your voice can protest. Even once you’ve sat down, all you do is shift in your seat, seemingly never comfortable. And whatever you originally planned on ordering is replaced with a glass of water. If Kageyama noticed, he doesn’t comment. He sips his beer occasionally; you’re halfway with your drink in a minute.

“So,” you hum, “you like your new team?”

The setter looks at you for a few seconds before responding. “Yeah. Full of great players.”

He sounds more like he’s being interviewed than catching up with someone from high school. You try not to deadpan at his short answer. Your habit comes back crawling, keeping up performances and your back straight, head forward and heart thumping.

Your glass is almost empty when Kageyama speaks once more. “Why didn’t you tell me you were in Italy?”

He didn’t sound offended or hurt. The question came out as curious and casual like you two were going on about your day. But you know that’s not what’s happening, and his eerie calmness makes you nearly choke on your drink.

“We kinda lost touch,” you answer steadily, briefly. “It was a pretty quick decision, too. Only a handful of people knew.”

Not a complete lie, but you consider it necessary for now.

“Had to find out from Yachi that you were here last time I played in Japan,” the setter grunts, eyes glued to his drink. Your hold on your glass tightens at his words as your head snaps up to face him, a mix of confusion and a twinge of fear making your expression. You don’t get to ask him anything, not that you’re sure you can, and he continues. “Kind of a hassle not being able to reconnect with you whenever I had time back home. Switching teams was a good call, especially with my previous contract coming to an end. And it’s not like I wouldn’t have made it into Ali Roma anyway. I guess you leaving was a blessing in disguise.”

Whatever he says afterwards, if anything, drowns out as you stare past his shoulder, and your stomach drops. The strength you gained found its cowardice as the old you that disappeared into the clouds crashes down on you like a rainstorm, soaking you to the bone and making you shiver.

You rise from your seat a little too abruptly for your liking. “I need to use the bathroom.”

Also not a complete lie, but who’s keeping track? Not a drop of alcohol touched your tongue, yet you stumble down the hall towards the sign with a female stick figure in a dress and clumsily push the door below it open. You’re unsure if you should hunch over the toilet or splash water on your face, but you aren’t rewarded with a choice, nor the time, to make it.

A knock rinses the blood out of your ears, and you can hear the cheerful and far-from-sober banter back in the bar.

“Occupied,” you stammer hurriedly, carrying yourself to the sink. The creak of the door opening has you inhaling sharply, and who you see in the reflection keeps the air in your lungs.

Kageyama stands a couple of meters from you, his brows lightly furrowed. “Why do you keep doing that?”

You don’t answer him. The ravenette takes a step forward. You flinch.

“I was right, you know,” he begins, strangely calm. “That old club of yours–the calligraphy one–it was a waste of time.” His movements are slow as he approaches you. “It’s a good thing everyone left. Even if your new job has nothing to do with volleyball, your manager position definitely brought you to where you are now.” As vague as he may be, you can’t help but move back every time he gets closer, your fist tightening near your chest. “It would’ve been better if you’d just joined me, though.”

Your back hits the wall, and you don’t register what happens afterwards as your jumbled thoughts decipher possibility after possibility over the athlete’s implications. You don’t realize he’s kissing you or grabbing hold of your face to make you return the forced affection. You’re elsewhere as he lifts your top over your breasts and your skirt past your hips. Your mind is groggy as he gropes you through your bra, soon sliding past the material to tweak your nipples.

It isn’t until his hand slides down your body and into your panties do you awake to a nightmare.

Your front presses up against the tile wall; you don’t recall when he turned you around, the dead end’s coolness painting goosebumps all over your body and juxtaposing the warm fresh tears cascading down your squished cheek. Kageyama’s fingers languidly glide across your lower lips before he clicks his tongue. You can hear the irritation; you always could.

Not as wet as he’d like you to be. But the setter only has so much patience. He’s human, after all. He’s human.

The thought barely registers when you hear a faint zipping sound behind you, and suddenly his hard-on presses into the small of your back. Your breathing picks up as he spreads your legs with little effort, further pushing you into the wall before doing the same with your panties, revealing your entrance to him.

He doesn’t grace you with sweet nothings and mercy: just a blob of spit in his hand to pump his cock followed by heavy panting. And when he finally enters, the silence deafens you as he chokes on a gasp.

That’s the moment that felt never-ending; he went in and never stopped, it seems, dragging himself into your insides until he was everywhere. He is everywhere. He is inside and behind and looming and crushing.

The nicest he was to you was when he waited to let you adjust, and you hate yourself for being the sweet little high school girl who tried to see the best in people. He doesn’t deserve it. You don’t deserve this.

Kageyama makes his first few strokes slow, but they’re still deep enough to have you gritting your teeth. It isn’t long until he gasps your name and picks up speed.

“All this way,” he rasps in your ear, almost masking the slapping noises his hips would make when colliding with your ass. “All this way to another part of the world, joining a new team, starting over and getting better, all to see you again.” You don’t hear him when he speaks, nor as he grunts extra loudly as you tighten around him. “I should’ve done this sooner.”

A large hand slides back into your bra, squeezing your breast, calloused fingers tugging at the hardened bud, while the other one further shoves your panties aside to hastily rub your clit. The dry friction does little to soothe you, and with his lack of patience, the nub receives no pattern except whatever it's offered. Still, the added stimulation makes you tighten and the ravenette more restless. Even in your position, he finds a way to slam his lips against yours again. His tongue makes its way into your cavern as his thrusts get sloppier. You can’t breathe.

Not when he pulls away from the kiss.

Not when his hips sputter as hot ropes paint your insides white.

And certainly not when your high follows soon after.

It wasn’t strong, and it didn’t last long, but the shame that creeps into your stomach lasts an eternity.

Your heavy breathing syncs with his as everything finally settles into your slowly-sobering mind. Kageyama’s still inside you, his hot breath fanning the back of your neck as his hands find your wrists to grab hold of.

You’re in high school all over again. His actions have evolved to more dangerous heights, but you’re back in that gymnasium watching him practice. Even when he finally pulls out, even when he pulls you close, even when he snuggles into the junction of your shoulder.

Kageyama hasn’t changed one bit.

@creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify

#fanfiction #fanfic #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#hq #dark content #yandere haikyuu #yandere kageyama #kageyama tobio #kageyama smut #kageyama x reader #karasuno #smut #haikyuu smut

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lightnightss · 18 days

Text

Love Letters (Yachi Hitoka! Smau)

❝Synopsis: An author who is always writing about falling in love finally does, and it couldn’t be anymore like the stories she’s heard❞

Tags: Yachi Hitoka x Fem! Reader, book store owner x author, wlw, mutual pinning, avoidant attachment, black cat x golden retriever

Warning(s): harsh language, drug/alcohol usage, messy relationships/behavior, grammatical errors, possible angst, ooc characters, insufrible characters, mature themes

Taglist: Fill out this form to be added to the taglist

Status: Pending…

Introductions: Yn’s group | Yachi’s group

Part one: Cherry Wine

Part two: loading…

#haikyu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smau #haikyū!!#haikyuu smau series #hq x y/n #yachi x reader #haikyuu yachi #hq x you #yachi hitoka #love letters hq smau #lightnightss

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mrs-kodzuken · 3 months

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Two lovers and a stuffie ♡

Pairing: Haijme Iwaizumi x fem!reader x Tōru Oikawa

WC: 2.4k

Genre: fluff with hints of sadness

CW: fem!reader, age regressor!reader, caregiver!haijme, caregiver!tōru, poly relationship, age regression coping mechanism, mentions of period blood/pads, when reader is regressed they use the caregiver name of “daddy” referring to iwa & kawa, strictly and completely unsexual!! stuffed animal and pacifier used for comfort by reader, switches from 1st pov to 3rd omniscient then back to 1st for plot

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

"Are you ready? You can sit with me if you'd like."

Kiyoko had offered me to sit beside her on the bus. We had been invited to a week-long training camp by the Shinzen. Even Aoba Johsai would be there too.

"Sure, thanks Kiyoko." I smiled, climbing to one of the front seats with her.

I snagged the window seat, wanting to watch the stars. Knowing I wouldn't be able to sleep on the way here, I stayed up. The fear of someone crashing the bus keeping me up.

Getting into my bag, I squeezed my stuffy's arm to calm myself. Usually, I'd have time to regress, but since we're going to be somewhere else, it would be almost impossible.

Even if both of my caregivers were going to be there. I still didn't want to risk it and get made fun of.

It was exceptionally hard to have both of my significant others in a different school too. I knew they'd be working hard and practicing, and it was about thirty minutes from my house to theirs.

The entire night, I watched Coach Ukai and our adviser, Takeda, switch between driving.

Somehow, during the night, my stomach started to churn, giving me a sick feeling. I didn't bother telling anyone because it would only cause trouble.

I never get sick during car rides, so I thought that must be it. I was just car sick.

Thinking by the time morning came about, it'd be gone. Just to my luck, it got worse.

It was like pins and needles had been continuously poking and prodding my abdomen.

I had to constantly keep my face a poker face and refrain from holding my stomach. I didn't want to cause any suspicion or worry.

"(Y/n)? Are you okay? You seem quieter than usual." I heard Kiyoko ask beside me while I was walking, going to put our stuff down in the managerial room.

All the managers from each team had an entire room to ourselves since all of us were girls.

"Y-Yes. I'm fine." I gave her a painful smile, trying to tell her I was alright.

I heard a bus across the lot pull to a stop, and it turned out to be Seijoh.

"Move your ass, Shittykawa." I heard my lover's voice, which soothed me. I practically relaxed while standing because of it.

"So mean, Iwa-chan."

Turning towards the voices, I watched them both, lovingly. But I refused to go over there, despite how much I wanted to; if I did, I'd melt into their arms.

Taking a deep breath in, hoping it would soothe my stomach. No such luck.

I quickly moved along with Kiyoko and Yachi, not wanting to be left behind when they started walking.

As the day drawn on, the pains in my stomach were getting so harsh. I even developed a headache that was pounding in my skull.

It was like the world was out to get me or something.

To make matters worse, I could hardly do my job as a manager due to switching between my headspaces. It felt like my mind was breaking in half.

I had managed to stay away from the two boys, but I was noticed by almost everyone else.

My head was loopy, making my footing weird as I walked to dinner.

"Are you sure you're okay? You haven't eaten anything today, and you're not eating dinner." I heard Sugawara say to me from across the table.

It was true; I had been pushing my food around, playing with it. I couldn't even eat because of the pain.

"I'm fine; I just am tired. I'm going to go take a shower, then go to bed." I reassured them, pushing my chair back, with a forced small smile.

I didn't care if my team's eyes were watching my every move, but I locked eyes with Oikawa and Iwaizumi on my way out.

As I turned the corner, tears brimmed my eyes just a bit. I wanted nothing more than to run into their arms and have them take care of everything. To take care of me.

I grabbed my futon in the manager's room and got it ready, but decided to lay down for a few minutes. An uneasy feeling settling in my stomach.

But when my head finally laid down, I was out like a light.

My eyes shot open, and I could feel bile rising in my throat. Immediately covering my mouth, I got up and rushed to find a bathroom.

There wasn't one in the room, but I did find one down the hall. I quickly slumped to my knees and let it all out within the, thankfully, clean porcelain toilet.

Tears welled in my eyes, wanting nothing more than the comfort of my daddies. I sobbed into the toilet, my body feeling hot and the salty tears trailing down my cheeks. My sorrow filled sobs echoed in the empty bathroom.

My stomach wasn't any better; it seemed to have gotten even worse. It was to the point where I couldn't even move if I wanted to.

I lay there sobbing, heavily deep in little space, sick. Another round of bile came about, which I released once again.

My left arm was hugging my stomach as my right one gave me support to lean on. I could feel my nose becoming stuffy, which only made me cry harder.

"D-Daddy." I hiccupped and whined, wanting them to take care of everything.

Whimpers escaped my mouth as I heard the door open. I was wishing for my daddies but was met with Kiyoko.

My eyes widened, "Please don't laugh at me! I just want my daddies!" I sobbed louder, afraid my secret would be out, snot running from my nose.

Kiyoko crouched down to my sickened state and started to soothingly rub my shoulders.

"I won't laugh, I promise. Can you tell me who your daddies are?"

"Tōru and H-Haijme." I squeezed my eyes shut as another wave of pain came from my stomach.

"Will you be alright while I go get them?" Kiyoko asked, still rubbing my shoulders.

I slowly nodded, taking a sharp intake of air.

Kiyoko had fast-walked to Aoba Johsai's room. She didn't want to leave (Y/n) in there by herself, especially in this condition.

She quietly opened the door, not trying to wake anyone. Kiyoko had walked inside, but to her dismay, she found two futons empty.

Huffing a bit, she turned around, exiting their room.

When she left, she accidentally bumped into the two people she had needed to find.

"Karasuno's manager? What are you doing up?" Oikawa had asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

"I think I have your little girl in the bathroom. She's asking for you two and seems quite sick."

The entire reason Iwaizumi and Oikawa were up anyway was to find the manager's room. They wanted to check up on their little girl, who had been avoiding them all day.

When those words left Kiyoko's mouth, they rushed to follow her into a bathroom.

I looked up from my slouching spot on the tiled bathroom floor after hearing the door slam open.

My half-lidded eyes recognized the two beings. "Daddy!" I cried, wanting to be in their embrace and take care of me.

A frantic look came upon both of their faces as they crouched down to where I was.

"Sweetie, what happened?"

"Baby, are you bleeding?"

They both asked simultaneously, and I looked down at the shorts I had been wearing during the day.

The gray shorts were leaking red liquid, causing a mess on me and the floor.

My eyes widened as I looked up, my eyes tearful. I began to apologize, sobbing louder unable to control my emotions in this state.

Haijme engulfed me in his strong arms, cuddling me softly. I leaned on his chest, relaxing.

I heard Tōru ask Kiyoko for any lady products I could use. While he was away, Iwaizumi picked me up in bridal style and he got a bubble bath ready.

He cleaned me up an brushed my teeth, too. All the while, I became sleepier as he whispered sweet nothingness into my ear.

Oikawa came back with a large shirt, his boxers, and some pads.

"Here, baby," Haijme gave me a glass of water and a couple of pills.

I easily swallowed them, trying to keep my eyes open and refrain from yawning.

Tōru picked me up while Iwaizumi had gone somewhere else.

I cuddled against Oikawa's chest while he carried me to his team's room.

Setting me down softly on a futon—well, two futons pushed together. He covered me up with the blankets.

Hajime came back with my (f/c) pacifier and stuffie.

He gently set the paci in my mouth while I brought (stuffies/name) closer to me.

Both of them wrapped their arms around me. They cradled me all night, knowing that there was a possibility of us getting into trouble in the morning.

Oikawa had started running his hands through my hair, while Iwaizumi gently massaged my stomach. That was all I needed to go to sleep peacefully this time.

When morning finally rolled around, most of the team was up. Well except for Iwaizumi, Oikawa, and (Y/n), who were still sleeping.

That morning, the guys had taken many pictures of the three of them. They laughed in adoration silently, not daring to wake them up.

But as always, there wouldn't be a day that went by when they wouldn't dare let their captain and vice captain get into trouble.

So they made up excuses till Oikawa and Iwaizumi awoke. The both of them staring at your beautiful sleeping form.

They kissed your forehead and cheek then wrote a small note on each side of you.

Once they were ready, they announced that you were sick and needed to be kept in bed all day.

Then everyone got confused as to why they, out of all people, would announce that.

"What did you do to our precious manager?" said by none other than Noya and Tanaka.

"She's our girlfriend," Iwaizumi answered, unbothered.

It seems as if Tanaka and Noya had frozen their raging attack.

"Whose?"

"Both of ours." Oikawa answered with a pointed look.

It seemed as if they both decided to reflect on their life choices after hearing that answer.

Waking up peacefully this time made me feel so much better. Cuddling my stuffie, I stretched my legs out. Realizing that me being on my period wasn't a dream, I shot out of the futon.

I was scared that I had leaked while I slept.

Luckily, I didn't, but I did need to change pads. After doing my business and washing my hands thoroughly, I laid back down.

I wasn't going to get up if I didn't need to. Looking to the left, I saw a small piece of paper lying there.

How the hell did I not see that when I checked the futon?

Picking it up, it was a sweet good morning note. It was from Haijme and also stated that Oikawa's was on the other side of me.

After I had read them, I put them in a spot where I wouldn't crush them.

I had been trying to fall back to sleep countless times, but when my cramps decided to come back, that's when I got up.

I went searching through Tōru's bag for some sweatpants because I'm not walking out of this room in just his boxers.

After sliding those bad boys on my lower half, I grabbed the notes, shoving them in my pocket and put the futons away.

I had no idea what time it was since my phone was back in the manager's room. So I decided to see what we'd be eating next to tell the time.

Walking into the kitchen, I was met with the smell of soup and, to be honest, it did smell quite good.

"Miss (L/n), you're up. The staff heard you were sick, so we whipped you up a soup. Feel better soon!" The lady handed me a fresh bowl of soup, and I thanked her while moving towards the dinner table to eat.

By the time I was done, I could hear some people coming in for lunch. I guess I had mine a bit early.

Anyways, I started shuffling back to the Aoba Johsai room; I had forgotten my stuffie and paci.

Picking them up I hid the pacifier in the sweat pants pocket so no one would see it.

When I shut the door, I turned around to head towards the room I should have slept in. My hair is probably a mess right now, and I should fix it.

I was stopped in my walk when I heard someone call out my name.

Turning around, I was ruthlessly jumped on by Tōru, I could tell by his intoxicating scent I loved. He tackled me to the floor, and we obviously fell.

"Ow, Tōru! Get off!" I shouted, trying to move his body.

"But you love me!" He leaned into my body more—that is, until we heard stomping coming from the hall.

I looked up to see Iwaizumi and smirked, because Oikawa was about to get his ass kicked.

"Oi! Get your heavy ass off of her, Trashykawa!" He ripped Tōru's body from mine, relieving me and slapping him.

"Thank you." I was gently pulled up from the floor, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"That's not fair! I want one!" Tōru pouted at me, his arms crossed.

I rolled my eyes at his playful behavior but still moved to give him a kiss on the cheek.

At the last second, the sly fucker moved his head so I'd kiss his lips. Which I should have expected from Oikawa.

"Amazing, why didn't I think of that?" Hajime sarcastically said, taking my waist and kissing me.

Just as Tōru was about to make another move, I quickly stopped him.

"No, I'm going to my room and I feel much better now. Thank you." I said that and turned to finally going down the hall.

I heard them talking about how I don't have to say thank you since they are the caregivers. I couldn't help myself, though.

When I got better, everything seemed to return to normal. I even apologized to Kiyoko because I had disrupted her sleep.

She said it was fine because she had always been a light sleeper. I just couldn't thank her and my boys enough.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

a/n: this is from my book “Haikyuu x Reader One Shots” on Wattpad! I hope you enjoyed and let me know if you have any requests!

the header is made by me, please like/reblog if used <3

36 notes · View notes

kitashousewife · 2 years

Text

did it hurt?

an: another lil halloween story with our resident party pooper, osamu!!! enormous shout out to my lovely sweethearts for helping me with some ideas!!!

pairings: timeskip!osamu x fem!reader

warnings: shitty pick-up lines, food mention, alcohol mention, suggestive content, swearing, lowercase intentional, light self consciousness from reader (about a costume)

osamu is nothing if not a team player. that's exactly why he's here tonight. he gave his word, promised to attend the halloween party his friends are throwing, and showed up right on time.

he may be wearing the lowest-effort costume possible; but he's here.

osamu is wearing an old, fades, maroon inarizaki t-shirt with the cheapest devil horns money can buy placed on top of his hair. the horns and shirt don't match at all, but he couldn't care less.

it's not that he doesn't like halloween. he just doesn't see the point of putting so much effort into an outfit that you're going to wear once. throughout his childhood, atsumu was always the one begging osamu to do matching costumes with him year after year. but now that he's older, osamu doesn't feel bad saying no to his brother.

"samu, give me a fuckin' break! you can't be me again," atsumu groans from the bathroom, fixing the vampire fangs he's attempting to place in his mouth.

"yer just jealous that i look better than ya," osamu sighs as he rifles through an old storage bin that they retrieved from their ma's house hours earlier. "i'll come up with something else, i promise."

a good five minutes pass by before atsumu emerges, dressed in a very elaborate vampire costume; fake blood and all. osamu won't admit it, but he does look pretty impressive.

"ya look stupid," osamu sneers before heading out the door. atsumu lets out an exasperated sigh. "i'll see ya later though," he says as the door shuts, ignoring the yell of if yer me i'll kick yer ass as he whistles down the apartment hallway, twirling the devil horns around his finger.

it took a total of three minutes to get ready for the party. he plucked the shirt from the bottom of his dresser and threw on the horns before heading out the door. the drive was less than 10 minutes, and he showed up early to help with food even, in hopes that he wouldn't get razzed for his costume.

"this costume must have taken weeks, huh?" suna asks behind his red solo cup. osamu rolls his eyes. "yer not any better. ya been a damn cop for what, five years now?'

"it hasn't failed me yet. if it ain't broke, don't fix it," suna slaps osamu on the shoulder before throwing a wink his way.

"i'm just glad you're not your brother for once," aran says from atsumu's couch where he's lounging, twirling his lightsaber in the air. "i can't believe you didn't want to be a jedi with me."

osamu finishes plating some of the snacks, nodding at kita who starts to fill some of the drink coolers. "my costume is just fine! i don't know why ya all have to be so annoyin' 'bout it," he huffs, checking the time in hopes that it will be time to leave soon.

you'd be lying if you said you weren't the tiniest bit nervous. attending a halloween party where you only know one person? that’s reason enough.

"it's gonna be awesome, these guys are really fun," yachi cheers from the back seat of the uber you two decided to get. she fixes the halo on her head before turning to you. "you know hinata!"

"not really!" you cry, anxiously picking the angel wings in your lap. if anything, at least the two of you match, and she will be easy to find if you need a quick escape. "i feel silly in this."

the car comes to a stop, your stomach flips. you give yachi an uneasy look, which she returns with a warm smile. she grabs your hand and leads you out the car. "you look great! i promise. i bet you fifty bucks some guy will get at least your number," she sing-songs, fixing the halo sitting on top of your head as you roll your eyes.

"come on. at the very least, we get free drinks!" she giggles, pulling you behind her as the two of you walk towards the building. while you follow behind, you can't help the uneasy feeling in your stomach as you stare at your reflection in shop windows. the short white dress, white wings and make-shift halo looked great in the inspiration photos. but now you aren't so confident.

"are you sure it isn't, i don't know, too much?" you mumble as you fix the rhinestones yachi applied around your eyes earlier.

"i'm telling you, you look incredible. we look incredible!" she ensures as the two of you arrive at the building.

as soon as the two of you open the door, you are engulfed with hazy purple lights, light smoke, and the smell of too many bodies in one space. as the two of you turn the corner, each step you take causes music to thump through your body a little stronger. you hold yachi's hand as she weaves you in and out of people, finding her friend at last.

"oh my god, you guys look great!" a very welcoming voice floats over the music as hinata jumps into view, engulfing yachi in a big hug. "i'm so glad the two of you could make it!" he says as he adjust the cowboy hat that went askew. the two of them talk for a bit and you take the opportunity to look around and take everything in. for a party thrown by a bunch of boys, they really pulled out all of the stops. elaborate decorations, tons of lights, and decent alcohol from what you've seen so far.

but, you feel a little weird. almost as if someone is watching you.

from across the room, atsumu notices your halo as it bobbles behind different heads. dying to get a glimpse of you, he peers around different party guests until he can get a better view.

"samu! get over hear right now ya lazy ass!"

osamu pauses his conversation with aran, looking at atsumu with clear annoyance. "what do ya want?"

"yer pathetic costume might just get ya a treat, check this out!"

pulling his brother by the shirt collar, atsumu drags him to a spot where he can see you. osamu stops, mouth falling open as he finally understands why his very rude twin forced him out of a conversation.

standing in the purest, daintiest white dress he's ever seen, you look around with wide eyes. the angel wings flutter behind you as you search for someone, hands coming up every couple seconds to fix your halo. osamu feels his heart skip a beat.

"go talk to her," atsumu encourages with a push, which causes osamu to bump into a few people. as soon as he turns around, annoyance written all over his face, he finds himself right in front of you.

his mouth goes dry. you haven't noticed him yet, thank god. his mind races on what to say to you. you truly look angelic; sparkling eyes, pouty lips, the white of your dress causing you to appear as if you are glowing.

"e-excuse me," osamu shouts, trying not to scare you, but ensuring that he gets your attention at the same time. thankfully you turn around, looking up at him with a sweet smile. osamu thinks that there might be a heaven after all.

"oh, hi!" your voice shakes a little with nervousness before you look him up and down. "wow, look at you! you're my other half,"

"what? oh, yeah," he chuckles, scratching the back of his head. he takes a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. "i'm osamu miya," he grins, stretching his hand out to you. you tell him your name as you shake his hand, but he doesn't let go

"can i get ya a drink?" he asks, pulling you towards one of the less populated coolers. you nod, allowing him to lead you. when you reach the cooler, he grabs a cup and tilts his head toward the drinks, and you tilt your head.

"i don't know," you start with a smirk. "something about you says you might not be the most trustworthy," you point to his head.

he shakes his head and chuckles. "what, these?" he copies your motion, tapping the horns. he fills your cup, smiling to himself as you fidget with the hem of your dress. "in that case, what should i believe about ya?" he emphasizes his last word with a tap on your wings. you give him a shy smile and shrug your shoulders, raising your palms in the air.

osamu clicks his tongue as he hands you your drink. you take a sip, looking up at him from the rim of the cup with narrowed eyes.

"somethin' tells me," he leans towards your ear, lips almost brushing against your ear. the plastic of the cup crinkles under your fingertips. "ya might not be as innocent and pure as ya look."

you gasp at the feeling of his lips so close to your skin, pouting slightly as he pulls away.

osamu steps to the side of you to pour his own drink.

"so, did it hurt?"

you quirk an eyebrow at him. the immediate switch of his behavior is dizzying. "huh?"

got her.

"did it hurt? ya know, when ya fell from heaven?" he smirks, wiggling his eyebrows at you. you cover your face as much as you can with your cup and scoff in fake annoyance.

"wow, that's a really good one."

osamu laughs and glances up, spotting his brother and friends on the other side of the room where he left them earlier. atsumu is waving a phone around in the air as his friends give him a thumbs up.

"i got lots more where that came from," he murmurs as he opens up the contact app on his phone. he hands it to you, hoping that the colored lights on the wall hide the blush creeping up on his cheeks. "i'd love to share 'em with ya."

you bite your lip, attempting to calm your rapidly beating heart down. you grab the phone out of his hand, the two of you flinching slightly when you fingertips graze his palm. you type in your information quickly before handing it over to your costume counterpart. as he puts his phone away, you catch yachi talking to some of her friends. she gives you a thumbs up, which quickly turns into a middle finger when you mouth the words fifty dollars at her.

"thank you for the drink," you raise your cup towards osamu. "but i think i'm going to catch up with my friend," you say as you take a few steps backwards.

"c'mon, the night just started! what, ya don't wanna get into any trouble just yet?"

you blush at his smiling form, face far too kind for his impish disguise.

"you know how to reach me!" you shout as you rejoin the crowd.

osamu feels giddy. when he pulls out his phone to see that you saved your name as angel, he pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue before he walks back towards his brother.

for once, osamu is thankful for his lackadaisical view on costumes.

#osamu x reader #miya osamu x reader #osamu fluff #miya osamu fluff #osamu miya #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagine #hq fluff #hq x you

324 notes · View notes

keiphoria · 1 year

Text

we’re gonna rattle this ghost town

featuring: hitoka yachi x (implied black) fem reader

explicit track: no

producer's notes: hi! this…is actually for a collab from like a year ago 🫣 but i got depressed, sewww…i don’t think there’s a big audience for yachi content outside of myself but i hope ppl enjoy this anyway! special thank u to my dear darling star for being my second set of eyes 🫶🏽

A strange chill ran down Hitoka Yachi’s spine as she sat in the courtyard under a familiar oak tree, the warm summer breeze whipping loose strands of blonde hair around her face. She didn’t bother to anxiously retie her ponytail for the third time in about six minutes; instead, she continued to wait for you.

This summer had been fun, much to her surprise. She’d expected staying on campus to be pretty boring, but it was a small price to pay for not having to pack up all her shit and lug it all the way home just to come back in a few months. Plus, she’d gotten a job helping out at a daycare on the beach nearby, so she had quite a bit of spending money saved up for the semester. She ended up really enjoying herself looking after the children, taking great joy in the little seashells and smooth rocks they would offer up to “Miss ‘Toka,” as they liked to call her.

…and she had met you.

Yachi sighs as she leans back against the tree’s trunk, her eyes slipping shut as she fondly recalls your summer together.

Things had begun harmlessly enough. Hitoka had been humming as she shuffled into the girls’ showers, a song from the latest Disney movie stuck in her head. She was just about ready to properly sing it to herself when she heard a voice from a stall.

“Hey,” she’d heard, “do you have an extra towel? I think I dropped mine in the hall. I can wash it and return it later, but…it’s pretty dire.”

To this day, Hitoka can’t remember seeing a towel in the hallway. Whether you’d just said it as a conversation starter, or if cleaning had just been passing through and gathered the item before she could even see it, she still wasn’t sure. (She was willing to bet it was the latter, though. You took long showers, much to her dismay when the two of you were trying to get ready for a night out. Who knows how long you had been in the stall before she had come in? The poor cleaning crew had probably picked up your towel an hour and a half prior to your meeting.) But she had given you her towel and hurried back to her room to grab a new one. When she came back, you were already gone.

She’d been a little miffed, honestly. It was just a Target bath towel, sure, but she liked those towels. They were really soft, and they were the pretty shade of blue her mother had always said made her skin glow healthily. She couldn’t believe she let some random girl steal her towel.

She finished her shower—still humming that damn Disney song, mind you—and returned to her room, but no sooner had she shut her door than a frantic knocking began against the thick wood.

She had opened the door to find you, a shy smile on your face as you presented her with a fluffy yellow towel.

“So,” you said sheepishly, shifting your weight from foot to foot, “I’m actually out of laundry detergent right now. I won’t be able to head into town to get some for a few more days. So for now, I figured I’d give you one of my towels.”

Yachi had squinted at you suspiciously.

“How’d you find my dorm?”

Your smile widened, and Yachi found herself surprised at the soft giggle you let out.

“Your name’s embroidered on your towels, and it’s on your whiteboard out here. It wasn’t too hard.”

She remembers how humiliated she’d felt—leave it to her overprotective mother to embarrass her by doing something like embroidering her name on a damn towel without her noticing. But as she muttered a weak apology for something so lame, she couldn’t help but notice the way you had smiled at her, shaking your head as you insisted it was really sweet.

A gentle smile sneaks its way onto Hitoka’s lips as she opens her eyes again, the memory of your meeting setting off the butterflies in the pit of her stomach that she’d grown all too familiar with since the beginning of the summer.

She felt a little ridiculous, honestly. It felt rather juvenile to have a silly crush like this, complete with all of the butterflies and stumbling over her words when you were around. It felt even more ridiculous when she considered your relationship…or lack thereof. In fact, Hitoka was convinced that she was making a grave mistake as she waited for you in the shade of the massive oak tree, ready to confess her feelings towards you—even if she was sure it would mean the end of your friendship.

It would destroy her, really, losing you. She’d grown fond of your presence, however she could enjoy it. But there were so many things that had happened between the two of you that she just wasn’t sure of. Like…a few weeks ago, you had gone together to a party at one of the frats on campus. God, that party.

The two of you had danced together all night, pressed skin to skin as you shouted the lyrics to every song at the top of your lungs. Cup after cup of cheap liquor passed between the two of you, and it hadn’t been long before you had smiled at Hitoka loopily and begun to sway a little too hard on the dance floor. She had called an Uber for the two of you and spent the entirety of the brief ride back to the dorm focusing on not kissing your forehead as you leaned on her shoulder. She’d carefully helped you into the building, fully prepared to settle you in your own room, when you’d pouted at her and asked to stay with her.

“What if I wake up all drunk ‘nd confused? If I’m alone, I’ll prob’ly just go lookin’ for you, anyway,” you’d mumbled, tightening your grip on her. And how could she say no to you?

So Hitoka had guided you into her room. She helped you take your makeup off, setting your lashes carefully atop the unused dresser, and she hadn’t argued with you when you insisted on crawling into bed with her. You had snuggled into her, your head tucked into her neck. She spent the night fighting the urge to tell you she loved you as your breath fanned over her collarbone. When she woke up the next morning, you were sitting on the other bed wearing a blue dress she thought she had lost—you must’ve found it in the back of her closet. As she shifted, you looked up from your phone, smiled at her, and asked her what she wanted for breakfast.

Hitoka swears that was the night she fell in love with you. You had looked so sweet, wearing one of the oversized T-shirts for her high school’s old volleyball club as you clung to her in your sleep. She couldn’t stop herself from imagining waking up to such a beautiful picture of you every morning. It was too good for her to consider passing up even the smallest opportunity to experience that reality.

Your laugh floats across the courtyard, catching the blonde’s attention immediately. She watches as you wave at a classmate, a bright smile on your face. She catches herself mirroring your expression as you approach, completely unaware of her gaze as you pull out the compact mirror she knows you keep in your bag at all times. You fix your hair, rub on some chapstick—and then you’re looking at her.

It’s too late to look away when your gaze meets hers, and Yachi can’t help the embarrassed flush that decorates her cheeks as she lifts her hand in a little wave. You wave back, jogging the rest of the way over to her with that same bright smile stretched over your lips.

“Hey! Were you waiting long?”

Her throat is closing up.

“No, uh…I didn’t get here that long ago.”

The lie burns at the back of her throat. She’s glad you hadn’t happened to decide to take one of your little campus strolls, or you would’ve seen her seated under the tree for about an hour before she even worked up the courage to text you to meet her.

You give a theatrical sigh of relief, wiping imaginary sweat from your forehead as you flop down into the grass next to her.

“Good. I really didn’t mean to be so late. I mean, I’d never leave my favorite girl waiting on purpose,” you reply, affectionately knocking your shoulder into hers.

She laughs, knocking you back—and trying hard to ignore the soda-fizz that bubbles just behind her bellybutton when you call her your favorite girl.

“Yeah, right. But I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to…ask you something.”

You face her fully, crossing your legs and locking your hands around one of your ankles.

“Shoot.”

This is it, Yachi thinks, it’s now or never. This will be when she tells you how long she’s been dreaming of feeling your soft fingers skate over her cheek as you pull her in for a kiss, of swinging your interlocked hands between the two of you as you walked to the campus ice cream shop for a date, of snuggling up to you every night to go to sleep. This will be when you tell her you feel the same way, that you realized your own feelings not long after, that you want to try being more than friends, too. This will be when everything changes for the better, when she kisses you properly for the first time and finds that it’s better than her dreams had ever let her even begin to imagine.

…isn’t it?

Or are you going to laugh at her, tell her that her confession was such a funny joke and that you aren’t even into girls? Are you going to tell her you should just stay friends and just slowly start avoiding her more and more? Are you going to break her heart into pieces under the oak tree where you’d first properly exchanged numbers, agreed to hang out, and truly become friends? Are you going to destroy her?

The mere thought makes the blonde hesitate, and she watches your expression morph into one of genuine concern.

“Hitoka? Hey, is everything okay?”

You sound so worried about her, and that alone makes it even harder for her to loosen the words that stick to the back of her throat. Can she really risk losing you?

The breeze picks up again, and if she listens hard enough, she can hear the echoes of your voice from the many talks you two had had under this very tree. The sound soothes her, and she takes a deep breath before she finally manages to look you in the eye again.

“I like you.”

You smile at her, tilting your head as you give her a playful pout.

“Aw, ‘toka, I like you t—“

“No, I like you. I have feelings for you.”

Your smile drops, and so does her heart. But it doesn’t matter—she has to finish what she started.

“I’ve liked you since we went to that one shitty frat party in the beginning of the summer and you insisted on staying with me. I like how you refuse to hang out if the next day is your wash day, and I like how you’ll call me after to help you detangle. I like the way your nose crinkles when somebody says something you think is silly. I like that you wear tube tops all the time just because you don’t want to get darker and still have “one stripe of winter” on your shoulders. I like that no matter what, you do your best to smile. I…I just wanted you to know. It’s fine if you don’t feel the same way, but…I just wanted you to know.”

You don’t answer. You blink at Hitoka absently, and she can already envision the rest of her evenings spent alone, a permanently empty seat next to her at the dining hall as you do your best to avoid her completely.

The breeze grows stronger—and there’s your voice again, echoing in her ears. She quickly begins to mourn that this will be the only way she’ll keep hearing her favorite melody.

But then you smile at her and lean closer.

“I like you too, Hitoka.”

The world falls silent. Her heart skips, the wind stills, and the Earth stops spinning. But you continue.

“I was really embarrassed the morning after that party. I thought I’d been so obvious. I didn’t know how to bring it up…I was scared you didn’t even like girls, but…”

You crinkle your nose, and Hitoka can feel her ears heat as she admires the sight.

“…I guess I was scared for nothing, huh?”

She can’t help it. She bursts into laughter, burying her face in her hands as tears of pure relief prick at her eyes. When she finally looks up, she rolls her eyes at you, reaching to tuck a braid behind your ear.

“Yeah, you were.”

You echo her laughter, albeit softer, and the sound makes her heart flutter in a familiar way.

“Hitoka, can I kiss you?”

She feels her face warm, and she rips her hand away from your face so quickly she worries for a moment that she may have hurt you. Just as quickly, though, she leans forward, your lips just millimeters apart.

“Y-yes….yes, please kiss me.”

Between a few stressful courses, kids who threw sand, and the lingering anxiety brought on by what she thought was an unrequited crush, the summer had begun to weigh heavily on Yachi’s shoulders. But when you kiss her, she’s suddenly sent back to early June. She’s dancing with you at that party, dressed in that skin tight red dress, and neither of you care who sees. You’re the only two people in the room—in the world.

Her heart slams against her chest when you pull away, giving her a shy smile that makes her want to kiss you all over again.

So she does.

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #yachi x reader #hitoka yachi x reader #hitoka yachi #cece singz #cece ♡’s yachi !#haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #yachi fluff #hitoka x reader #i think that’s it? i hope ppl enjoy this

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pastel-mocha · 10 months

Text

Love Confession || Yamaguchi Tadashi x Fem!Reader

genre: hurt/comfort

highschool!yamaguchi x reader (both are in their first year of highschool)

word count: 1054

warnings: none, at least I don't think so:)

A/N: Hey everyone! this is my first story and if course it had to be about yams because he is one of my favourite characters from haikyuu, please let me know if there's any typos/mistakes I wrote this after midnight so I apologise, I ACCEPT SUGGESTIONS AND CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM!! <33

Today was finally the day you thought of confessing your feelings to Yamaguchi, You've had a crush on him ever since. middle school.

The summer holidays were just around the corner, if he didn't like you back you wouldn't have to deal being embarrased around him, by the time you would have came back to school your feelings would probably be gone, still it would be very awkward to hang out with him after friendzoning you.

You suddenly felt a rush of adrenaline and that's when you decided it was the perfect time to confess, of course after class was done.

"Class is dismissed, enjoy your lunch" your English teacher said before walking out the classroom's door

You took the notebooks that were laying on your desk and carefully placed them in your school bag, you heard a familiar voice calling out for you

"Y/n, when are you going to confess to Yamaguchi?" The blonde hair girl asked, her eyes filled with curiousity

"Oh about that.. I was thinking today but I don't know if he likes me" you answered your best friend's question

"C'mon Y/n, now you're just overthinking! Don't be negative all of the time" Yachi gave you a reassuring smile

"I am sure he likes you back, You are so awesome, gorgeous and smart how could he not like you? You two look perfect toge-" You cut your best friend off

"Yachi, can we just drop this conversation and act like it never happened?" you were nervous, scared of confessing, what if he didn't like you back? thoughts started clogging up your mind but Yachi stopped before you could have spiralled into your old bad thoughts

"Y/n, you don't have to confess right now, I am always here for you and I can help you" Yachi came forward and hugged you, then someone walked by and whispered

"I know he likes you" You froze once you heard another familiar voice, but you weren't so sure who whispered to you

"What?" You were red as a tomato and your ears started burning

"I wasn't talking to you, dumbass" of course it's Tsukishima

"Then who were you talking to?" You asked while praying he was actually talking to you, and not to your best friend

"I meant to say that to Yachi, sorry Y/n" You felt betrayed, it wasn't Yachi's fault at all

You pushed her away, carefully to not hurt her, grabbed your belongings and stormed out of the classroom, you went to your safe place to calm yourself down

Passing by the gymnasium you saw Yamaguchi, you didn't stop to greet him as you usually did, you continued to walk, the pace becoming faster.

"Isn't that Y/n?" Hinata asked while pointing towards you

"Hm? Sorry, I didn't notice she walked by" Tadashi replied and then proceeded to ask a question

"Do you think she's mad at me? She usually stops by and greets me" the freckled boy said, The other boy could see the fear in his eyes

"Maybe? I dunno, dude this food is so awesome, take a bite!" Shoyo tried reassuring Tadashi, it didn't quite work out

Yamaguchi got up, and walked in the same way you did, eventually he bumped into you, you were laying on the grass, under a cherry blossom tree

"Y/n?" his eyes widened when he saw you teary eyed, you tried rubbing your tears but it was too late, he noticed something was wrong

"Tadashi? What are you doing here?" you asked, though you weren't ready for any kind of confrontation, not now.

"I saw you walking by the gymnasium, and you didn't stop by to chat, I wanted to see if something is wro-"

"Everything is wrong, first I found out that my crush likes another girl, and by another girl I mean Yachi my best friend, I mean there's nothing wrong with her but I am jealous" you take a deep breath and continue to ramble about your feelings

"And now you're here, and yo-you showed up here while I'm crying" he hands you a tissue and allows you to spill your thoughts further.

He doesn't know if he should ask, maybe you will find it offensive and feel upset again

"I wanted to ask some questions about your crush" he quietly said, his voice is truly mesmerising

"Well, he is pretty tall" he cut you off and said

"Let me guess, is it Tsukki?" he giggled at your response

"No, it's not Tsukishima, It's someone else who makes me feel loved, he is really smart and handsome too, he doesn't think so, but I do" you blushed, looking the other way to not face him

"Why don't you confess to him already?" He asked, his green eyes filled with confusion

"Well here it is" you said before taking multiple deep breaths, "Tadashi, I've had a crush on you since middle school and words can't explain how happy you make me, I always wanted to confess to you but never found the perfect opportunity.

But today is different, you may not feel the same and our relationship might be awkward after this, but I can't continue bottling up my feelings" you sighed, your hands are now covering your face "This is so embarrassing" you mumbled, your ears were burning again

"Y/n, i feel the same way about you" his hands pushing yours away from your face, tucking some of your hair behind your ear, your face was red and you looked like you were going to explode anytime soon.

"I hid my feelings from you because I thought you didn't like me" he said with a calm tone, while rubbing the back of his neck

"But, Tsukishima said you like Yachi, you don't have to feel bad for me" you said while Yamaguchi was wiping some of your falling tears away

"Y/n, you really trust Tsukki? That boy loves to tease everyone" he smiled at you, pressed a kiss on your forehead and hugged you tightly

"I will always love you, no matter what happens between us" he said with a lot of confidence and of course you trust him but don't forget to ask one more question

"Promise?" you looked up at him, your eyes full of happy tears, you smiled while waiting for a response

"I promise"

_________________________

Reblogs are highly appreciated<33

#yamaguchi tadashi #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #angst #hurt/comfort #yamaguchi x reader #yamaguchi fluff #fem reader

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kunimix · 1 month

Text

MEET THE WRITER

About me

Call me Vi

She/her

Freshly 18

WHAT I WRITE

Fandoms

Jjk

Haikyū!!

Bsd

Genshin

Hxh

Mha

Characters

Itadori, Megumi, Nobara, Maki, Inumaki, Yuta, Gojo, Geto, Shoko, Choso, Yuki, and Toji(Depends on my mood)

Hinata, Kageyama, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, Yachi, Tanaka, Nishinoya, Daichi, Sugawara, Asahi, Kiyoko, Kenma, Kuroo, Yaku, Oikawa(depends), Iwaizumi, Kunimi, Bokuto, Akaashi, Atsumu, Osamu, and Suna

Dazai, Ranpo, and Chuuya

Wanderer/Scaramouche and Xiao

Gon, Killua, Kurapika, Leorio, Chrollo, Feitan, and Shizuku

Midoriya, Bakugo, Todoroki, Denki, Kirishima, Uraraka, Jirou, Momo, Tsu, Mina, Toga, and Amajiki

Genre

Smut

Fluff

Angst

SMAU

X Reader

Character x Character

MOSTLY FEM READER (I will try male and gn)

I will take requests even if the character or fandom isn’t on the list only if I know it though

⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩⇩

⇨ MASTERLIST ⇦

⇧⇧⇧⇧⇧⇧

#meet the writer #jjk #jjk x reader #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #hxh #hxh x reader #mha #mha x reader #introduction #kunimix

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ryndicate · 1 year

Text

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ A Drop in Time

Go gently into the night, lest it seek its own vengeance.

Vampire!Megumi x reader (fem body/pronouns)

notes: this chapter was harder than I thought because my notes changed and I ended up extending the chapter past where I originally thought it would finish. It is also proofread by the same lovely friend (thank fuck it really needed it T-T)

warnings: this chapter is pretty tame in terms of warnings! Just some depictions of grief, threats/coercion

By expanding, you are consenting to viewing adult/dark content, and all warnings listed above. 18+ Minors DNI

Blog Rules & Main Links

⋆⁺₊⋆ Ch. i ☪︎ Masterlist ☪︎ Series Warnings ☪︎ Ch. iii ⋆⁺₊⋆

Your miserable breakfast the next morning is what drives you to the market at first light, sifting through the produce and exchanging coins, careful to buy only what you need for home since you’re accustomed to buying for three. Your paltry basket is a sore reminder that later tonight you once again return to an empty house. The thought is enough to leave you in a poor mood, long past wishing you had just accompanied your parents and Shouta to the capital.

You pause as you pass the baker’s stall, painfully aware of his blank gaze and the empty space at his side, looking at the remaining coins you have for today’s food. You have plenty left over from your allowance, and the weaver’s children come to mind. Decision made, you step forward to request his service. There are no pleasantries offered nor condolences, as it’s clear neither party wants for either, and you move on your way.

Despite the sweet, inviting smell of the extra rolls you purchased, your appetite is lost. The market is always a place of gossip, but in light of recent events the whispered words pressed from mouth to ear were too gruesome to bear. The casualties had finally been recorded: four score were confirmed dead and another score were missing.

With so many dead, it’s no wonder the village seems so quiet now.

You return home with your groceries, trading the rolls into a nicer basket before leaving out the door once more towards the weaver’s shop.

“Shin, sir?” Stepping inside, you call gently, unsure with the silence inside. A small glance around is enough to tell you that more has been done. There’s less left to pack than there was when you left last evening. You place the basket on the counter and lean against it, content to wait until someone makes an appearance.

You’re gazing into open air, not quite aware of the dark swirl overtaking your thoughts like the deep fog of an autumnal midnight. It’s a strange detachment, almost as if you’re being drawn from your body for something else to take your place. Before you know it, all self is lost.

“Miss Rumi?”

You return violently, flinching from the gentle hand on your shoulder and turning wild eyes on the surprised Shin as you cower away with a broken sound.

“I—I’m sorry,” he murmurs, genuine. Concern blankets his weathered gaze. “Are you okay? You weren’t breathing right just a moment ago, too shallow.”

“I’m f-fine.” You draw a shaky breath inward, almost as if to prove you still can. You notice the small herd of children hovering in the doorway behind their father, their eyes wide as they take you in. Unsure of how long they’d been there, you give them a smile to reassure them. There’s no need to have them worried about you. “I apologize, I was too lost in my thoughts. I was just startled, that’s all.”

Shin is still eyeing you with such concern that you feel the need to change the atmosphere you inadvertently created. You take the basket from the counter and call the children over. “I’ve got enough for all of you, would you like some? They’re fresh from the baker.”

Yachi is the first one to skip over, delight upturning her sweet face, and the rest of them soon follow with Toshi taking up the rear. As they dig their hands in the basket, you take a belated glance at their father to make sure he’s okay with this. Shin simply smiles at you and nods, turning back to a half packed box.

It’s another quiet day—a productive day—and finally everything is packed away and stacked in the corner. The day’s silence is broken only by the children tumbling into the shop floor to declare that they made supper for everyone. Toshi seems eager for you to try the hearty stew and so you reward him with kind praise, telling him it’s delicious and that you're very much jealous of his future wife. Your teasing remark has the boy red to his roots, and sends his sisters into shrieking laughter. For a moment fondness fills your heart and you forget everything that has transpired in the last few days, basking in the childrens’ happiness until you catch sight of Shin watching with a broken expression from the doorway.

“I’m so full I couldn’t eat another bite,” you announce theatrically, rising from the table and urging the kids to finish their bowls as you step away to check on their father.

“Sir?”

“‘M fine,” he returns gruffly, voice wet. “Just realized how much they’re gonna miss, that’s all. Their Mama can’t cook for ‘em anymore, can’t play with ‘em, can’t—” His whispered words get shakier with each passing breath before they choke off, unable to continue.

“Shh, Mister Shin.” You place a comforting hand on his shoulder, glancing back and moving him out of line of sight to the kitchen before his children notice he’s breaking down. “They’ll be okay. They have you, after all.”

Shin clears his throat and turns away, trying to mask the tears that are still threatening his lash line. “That’s very kind of you to say, Miss Rumi. But children need their mothers, and I don’t think I can give them one.”

You pause. “You don’t intend to remarry then?”

He glances at you wearily. “I know what’s proper and what would be right by them. But I could live a thousand lifetimes and never find another woman like Masaki. I don’t have room in my heart for another soul, and that just don’t sound fair to whatever poor lady would be foolish enough to marry me now.”

“So what will you do?”

“I’m gonna move as close to the capital as I can get where they’ll be safer.” Shin sniffs and his voice gets stronger now despite the lingering wetness of his gaze. “‘M gonna sell what’s left of the shop to keep us goin’ while I look for work. There’s plenty of labor work out thataways, and I’m not that old yet. Got quite a few good years in me. If I can get myself in decent standing in the next few years, then I won’t have to worry too much about my girls finding good homes. They deserve the most I can do for them, gods be damned.”

You’re touched by his determination, feeling your own eyes begin to grow misty. “If anyone can do it, it’s you, Mister Shin. You’re a good man.”

“Thank you for all your help,” Shin murmurs, giving a low bow of his head. “You kept me together for them. Not sure what there is for me to thank you with.”

“Oh please,” you stammer, a little overwhelmed by the unexpected praise. “I needed something to do with myself. Being here saved me just as much heartache, so there is nothing to repay. People should help each other.”

“That brat Shouta is a lucky man.” Shin chuckles drily at the mortified expression on your face at the mention of your fiancé. “You do what you need to, little miss. If he stays up to his nasty habits you do right by yourself, hear me?”

“Yes sir,” you mumble, eyes downcast, feeling flushed from head to toe.

“Cart an’ horse is arriving at sun-up,” the older man eventually sighs. “We’ll be on the road just after daybreak, so this is goodbye, Rumi. If you’re ever near the capital maybe we’ll see each other again.”

“Maybe.” You smile, unable to hide the tiny sniffle that escapes your composure.

Shin smiles, walking you to the shop door. “You best take care of yourself.”

“I will.”

“Wait—”

Yachi bursts into the room, tiny steps racing across the shop floor. She throws herself into your arms and you accept the hug she wraps tight around your midsection, returning it heartily as your throat closes up with emotion.

“I’ll miss you, Miss Rumi!” Her high little voice reaches your ears and a wet laugh breaks through your lips.

“I’ll miss you too, little one.”

There’s another chorus of goodbyes and you look up to see the other three children, Gin, Hime, and Toshi with the babe on his hip. You send Yachi back towards them and give them all a little wave as you exit the shop, trying your hardest to control yourself at what you realize is a very bittersweet goodbye. You hope they find all the happiness they’re looking for on their journey.

Upon returning to your home you find an envelope pressed in the gap of your door. Curious, you take it down and step inside. You take it to your room and set it on your desk and reach for the lantern, refreshing the oil and lighting it. With light to see you peel the wax seal—bearing the familiar mark of the country’s mail couriers—and open it to find lettering you’d never mistake for anyone else's.

My dearest Rumi,

Your father and I are well and everything is as planned. Tomorrow we are scheduled to meet with the bishop in the capital city and we depart for home the day after next. Your father and Shouta are getting along, thankfully. He is an awful bootkisser if you ask me, but I reluctantly believe that to be better than most alternatives.

You laugh fondly and keep reading.

God willing we will also return as planned and with no shortage of gifts. The city is full of delightful things, and your father is like a cat with both the mouse and the cream. I know how much you wished for some time for yourself, but I’ve missed you terribly. I can only hope you gained what you were wanting but that you held open a space in your heart for us to return to. I have so many stories of this journey to share with you.

With all the love in the world,

Mother

It’s clear that news of the attack has yet to reach her and you are far from looking forward to sharing it with her, but your heart aches for her return anyways. Until that night you had been enjoying the time to yourself, but the novelty has run out in favor of no longer being alone. There is no joy in eating alone, in beginning your day alone. Had you not been visiting the weaver’s husband and children, you’re sure your days would not have been much more than listless staring. There’s only so many chores you can finish before you run out of things to keep your mind busy.

With a sigh you carefully refold the letter and leave it on your desk. It was not a letter that required a thoughtful response as they would already be on the road home before your letter was even a third of the way to the capital. Instead you tidy up the hearth in the living area and relight it. Sleep is intent on evading you tonight and it helps you to pretend you’re dozing in the living room while your father reads quietly and your mother sews. Content in their silence as they spend most nights, before calling you a goodnight. When the flames lick down to embers you finally tiptoe down the hallway to your room and crawl under your covers. You close your eyes, calling from memory the sound of your mother’s voice as she tells you sweet dreams, and let yourself drift slowly to sleep.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ — — —

You wake what feels like mere moments later, but something keeps you from startling. Your heart is already in your throat. At first you believe something from a dream already out of reach is the cause for rousing so quickly until you realize that your bedroom window is wide open.

A chill drips down your spine like winter frost; you’ve been sure to lock it each night and you’re certain you checked it when you got home yesterday. Cool moonlight filters through the open sill, pooling on your floor and filling the space with silver light.

Slipping silently from your bed you approach and swiftly close the pane and then the shutter, redoing the latch with jerky movements. Your heart refuses to calm and you close your eyes, counting your breaths and willing them to slow. With one last exhale you’re readying to turn around only to stiffen as a warm yellow light flares up behind you, casting your shadow on the illuminated wall.

And another’s.

Someone is in the room with you.

You whip around with your breath in your throat to see a tall man seated at your desk, studying you intently. His skin looks as pale and delicate as lily petals, his hair like snow, and his eyes could be mistaken for diamonds or starlight—your first instinct is to stare. You’ve never seen a man like him nor heard of his beauty in any tale. He looks out of place in your simple bedroom surrounded by commonplace items. He’d look more at home in a royal estate. Pale pink lips curl in an amused smile and his head drops to an open palm, elbow propped on your desk as he regards you silently.

He gives a low hum.

“Lovely evening, isn’t it?”

His voice is velvet and cream and your body stiffens, awareness of the situation returning. “Who are you? What are you doing here?”

He rises fluidly from his seat at your desk and you take an instinctive step back as you note that he’s even taller than you’d assumed at first glance. His clothing is that of neither peasants nor nobility, but rather of such that seems to suit him and only him. He’s dressed in a deep navy tunic lined with silver threading and pewter gray trousers. A dark cloak sits about his shoulders that looks nearly as thick as a blanket. Nothing about him seems quite normal.

"My name is Satoru Gojo, and I come in the interest of my lord," he says with a smile, bowing low in a manner that looks respectful but gives you the suspicion that you're being made fun of. There's something about him that sends a ripple through your mind, but it quickly swims out of your reach.

"And who exactly is your lord? What might he want with me?" Before he can answer you brazenly continue, hoping the command in your voice is enough to overshadow your rising trepidation. "Whatever it is, it must wait until morning. This is most inappropriate entering a maiden's room in the dark of the night. I demand you leave at once."

He smirks and you fly back as he quickly closes the distance between you to close a hand around your wrist. You shudder at the warmth of it and the determined brightness of his gaze. "I'm sorry, girl, but it is of the utmost importance."

"Who do you represent?" You demand an answer, scandalized by his forwardness and lack of decorum. You try to rip your arm from his grasp but he holds fast. "Release me at once."

"I serve the high prince, Megumi Fushiguro. He is gravely ill and he requires your blood."

Blood.

The very thing seems to stall in your veins, becomes stagnant and lifeless as your arm falls limp, no longer resisting.

Megumi.

You're certain you heard that name that night. Was he the one who..?

You shiver. Your country has no prince, so whatever royalty he speaks of… A prince of vampires? You've never heard such a thing, but surely that makes this all the more dangerous.

"You serve that monster." You realize this coldly. It feels like there's a trapped bird in your chest, fluttering and struggling for flight as he tilts his head at your words, unmoved and unconcerned. Suddenly lightheaded you stumble, his grasp the only reason your feet stay under you. "W-why—my blood… Why mine?"

"Yours is the only thing that can save him now. Come, let us leave."

That leaves you even more confused and frightened than a moment ago.

"No." The word is uttered at a whisper, but the defiance in it surprises even you.

The white-haired man's grip slackens for a moment and you quickly rip yourself free.

"No?" He raises an eyebrow at you, appearing dubious at your rejection. When you shake your head his stare deepens before he startles you by tipping his head back in a peal of childish laughter.

The volume of it has you stepping back in fear.

"Is that truly your answer?" Satoru's grin widens in delight as you retreat further, following you in a predatory manner that sends a reminiscent terror racing in your blood.

"Think carefully now."

"Absolutely not." You stare at this man, your gaze heavy with incredulity. "I will not leave my home for the sake of some monster who killed half my people. I would sooner die."

The cheerful glint in his eyes does not change, but his blinding smile sharpens. His teeth—unnaturally white—make their appearance—and now you can see the fine pointed fangs. A silent threat that ghosts alongside his spoken one. "Then, girl, would you leave for the other half?"

"How do you mean?" Your shoulders hunch inward, as you regard him warily. Somehow you hadn't realized until this moment that he doesn't just serve a monster, but he is one.

"If you mean to stay for their sake," he intones steadily, like one would to a child, yet still merry, "then for them it is best you leave with me. If you do not, I will ensure each and every one of them will never see another sunrise."

The misplaced joy in his tone causes you to suddenly recognize him. He’s the second voice from the other night! You shiver, recalling the vague essence of his words from the nightmarish memory. There is no doubt he would carry out his threat.

You can almost hear the screams as you stare each other down, finding no quarter in the gleam of his azure gaze. You think of Yachi now, of Toshi and the other kids; how their father is taking them towards the capital in the morning. They're setting off for a better, safer life—but they won't have that if this thing doesn't get his way. Your life against all of theirs is an easy choice.

“Fine.” Your glare does not seem to deter him but the ire in your tone as you continue seems to surprise him, one of his eyebrows raising. “We can leave in the morning.”

“Oh, I think not. Unless you mean for me to take that as a threat.” He grins at you. “Have I frightened you slow, lambkin? Surely you realize we cannot travel by day—we must leave now.”

Cheeks burning, you discern the error of your words. Vampire. Of course he couldn’t travel by day. Still, you protest. “But I need time to gather my things! To leave a note for my family!”

“You no longer have need for either,” he counters promptly, crossing his arms.

Fear strikes just as coldly as your anger does hot. “And how far are you taking me?” you demand. “Surely you don’t mean to traipse me across the countryside in my nightdress?”

That earns his silence, however brief. Then he releases a disheartened sigh, as if you are the troublesome one. “Alright, quickly then. A few minutes. We have far to go before the sun rises.”

You scoff and brush past him to open your wardrobe, pulling out some of your thicker attire. It may yet be summer, but if you're stuck on horseback in the nighttime then you'd rather be safe than sorry.

Clutching the clothing you turn back to see Satoru leaning against the wall, watching you silently. Heat floods your cheeks. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all," he returns bluntly, a cheeky smile on his face. But he makes no move, much to your rising irritation.

"I will not be changing in front of you, get out!" you hiss testily, jabbing a finger at your bedroom door.

Satoru stills, almost as if he were a piece of the wall itself, before pushing off and stepping towards you.

Gone is the genial tone, replaced with something smooth and sharply unaffected that has the hair on your arms and neck bristling with foreboding.

"Mind the way you speak to me, lambkin."

You swallow, just barely containing the tremble of your voice. "That's not my name."

His eyes bore into you, flashing brightly before his lip curls in a little smirk as he saunters out of your room, opening the door and leaving it wide open.

Stumbling forward you go to close it, only to find the iron clasp crumpled as if squashed by hand the way one could crush parchment. Inhaling sharply, you push the door closed as much as you can and take a step back, heart thudding unevenly.

You already had little doubt of outrunning him and now full doubt of overpowering him. Reality pours down your spine like unrelenting rain, leaving you sodden with despair. You change hastily, certain he'd walk in on you if you were to take too long, and dash to your desk to pull out your mother's letter.

Her words are already in your heart, but that's not enough. Satoru made it poignantly clear that you would probably never return to your home. You carefully fold it and place it in a small bag that you tuck into one of the inner folds of your dress.

Glancing at the door, you listen intently for his return. Hearing nothing you chew your lip in thought, gazing at the blank stationary on your desk and reaching for ink and pen. There are many things you could say, but not much that your heart could stomach. The truth would be too cruel to unfold upon her, so looking forward to being reunited with her only child.

Would it be more kind for her to believe you dead at your own hand? To write a despairing apology and hope her heart accepts it one day? Or would it be more merciful for her to believe you were a disrespectful runaway, who could not accept the marriage planned out for her?

The seconds beat in rapid succession with your heart as your pen drips stray ink across the page before finally you print out the only letters that your mind can call acceptable.

Your door pushes open and you drop the pen immediately, stepping away from the desk.

Satoru eyes you up and down, taking a critical eye to your change of dress. "And here I thought I'd get a peek."

You want to glare but his lack of smile makes you shrink inside. Is he still cross with the way you spoke to him? Surely he wouldn't harm you? Not that it matters. He said your blood would save his prince. The inevitable will only be met with as much delay as you put forth.

Satoru stoops, holding out his arms in a manner that seems familiar, yet foreign in this situation. As if a wolf were offering comfort to a sheep.

You take a step forward and falter. "You mean to carry me?"

"For now, yes." Derisive amusement filters back into his expression. "We take our leave."

So distracted by the unknown, chaotic whispers of where he might take you, you find you aren’t surprised when he takes you in his arms and exits your home through your bedroom window. Of course the monster would exit the way he entered. Home is no longer in sight when you realize you didn’t write the one thing that you should have, regret coiling tight around your heart like a serpent. A sob shakes your body but the shoulder you have no choice but to rest your head against gleans no comfort.

Never again will you have the chance to tell your mother that you love her. In your mind’s eye you can still see the ink-stained parchment, left on your desk with no signature because it had no need of one. Your mother would never question where it came from, only why it came to be written in the first place. How long, you wonder, will she be burdened with its contents? You’ll never know.

I couldn't stay. I'm sorry.

a/n: THE ML IS IN THE NEXT CHAPTER I SWEAR. i think...

Reblogs and kind comments incredibly appreciated <3

#megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen series #jjk series #series::ADiT

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osamusriceballs · 2 months

Text

The Accident - Part XVIII

Atsumu x fem reader

Warnings: NSFW!!

Words: ~ 4,9 k

About: Finally! Pure smut, barely plot. Can be skipped if you're uncomfortable with that. The longest part so far xD

Part I II -> Final Part

Your relationship with Atsumu has been thriving.

You came to appreciate that he is actually a very reliable and vivid texter and how you both regularly went on dates- something that he insisted on, and you definitely couldn't complain about that. You know that he has a tight schedule, but that apparently doesn't stop him from inviting you over every single weekend, without exceptions, always making sure that Saturday night belongs to the two of you. Often, you would go to Onigiri Miya's to eat, much to Osamu's delight. He always insists that you don't have to pay, yet you still often place a crumpled 10 bucks note in the tip jar to keep the guilt at bay.

You both have developed a routine of eating out together and then watching a movie at Atsumu's place. He's told you a lot about his work, sometimes complaining about other players, but he seems really confident in his skills, with the start of the Olympics getting closer and closer every single day, which he is anticipating quite a lot.

You'd tell him about your work too, tell him about the things that you like, that you enjoy to read, confessing with reddened cheeks that you sometimes read rather unconventional stories, to which his smug grin had intensified, and he seemed very interested in getting details of that, which you denied at first, but then promised him to send him recommendations. You had also told him how Yachi and you met and how you got to know Hinata and Kageyama. You came to enjoy this caring side of Atsumu, and it feels rather domestic to spend time with him like this, just the two of you talking and having fun.

And more often you'd find yourself in Atsumu's lap after talking for hours, heavily making out with him until you both gasp for air- just like today.

You barely pay any attention to the movie, the sounds only faintly in the background, some action movie that Atsumu found with a good rating and insisted you both watch—and instead, it didn't even take him ten minutes to scoot a bit closer and to gently turn your face towards him to kiss you, deepening the kiss quickly and then pressing your back against the couch. He's now hovering over you, your legs wrapped around his middle and your hands deeply entangled in his hair. You came to notice that he loves when you play with his hair, sometimes even resting his head in your lap just to have you give him a head massage, so you don't hesitate to feel the soft strands in your fingers and scratch his scalp softly.

He groans against your lips when you slightly pull on the strands, and a breathy moan escapes your lips when he grinds his hips against yours. He's hard already. Very much so. You feel his cock pressing against you, just the fabric of his sweats and your panties separating your bodies from each other. Your skirt rode up when Atsumu had forced your legs open to settle in between them, but you don't mind laying under him like this. The tension between you is thick, and you're glad that you're wearing a nice matching set of underwear tonight, even though you're convinced that he couldn't care less about your choice of clothes.

"Gosh, yer driving me crazy." He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, and you swear you could combust at the sight of pure unrestricted lust in his eyes. This is usually what you'd do: make out until you both couldn't take anymore and then fall asleep together while cuddling, without going further. He made it pretty clear that he wants to take this slow and earn your forgiveness for the situation, and while you appreciate his efforts, you'd also appreciate him doing just a bit more with you. "Tsumu—can we... you know... go a bit further?" You ask with bright cheeks, hoping that he's also willing to take that step with you, and he raises a brow in a teasing way, and you almost push him back when you see his sexy smug grin. "Oh? Wifey wants more, huh?" He dips his head, and his lips find your neck, kissing down to your pulse, causing you to release a soft breath while you arch against him, his cock now hardly pressing between your legs. "I would be a bad husband if I deny your wishes."

His kisses get just a bit rougher, his teeth grazing against your skin, and you arch into him when he bites down slightly. "Atsumu—" you try to even out your breath, but you can't seem to calm down when he nibbles on your skin, the feeling almost painfully intimate when he cages you underneath him like this. "We can go a bit further, if ya want to. I could go right here." He shifts his weight and angles his face a bit deeper to press a kiss against your collarbones, leaving a tingling sensation on your skin when he pulls back. "Or right here." His fingers pull down the side of your shirt until you expose even more cleavage to press a sensual kiss at the swell of your breasts. You feel heat rushing through your body, and you softly moan at the action- he's driving you insane.

"How far do you want me to go?" He looks up at you, his eyebrow raised in a silent question while he looks at you. His face is close, so close, you can see his flushed cheeks and widened pupils, and you're certain that you could explode any second when he looks at you like this. "All the way. If you're okay with that?"

You barely manage to finish the sentence before he already starts moving to press your back harder into the couch until you lay flat. A soft gasp leaves your lips, and your eyes widen when he thrusts his hips against yours in the process, the friction so good and welcoming against your sensitive spots. His fingers find the hem of your shirt, and he gently pulls it up until your bra is exposed to his eyes. An almost dangerous glint is in his eyes when his thumbs hook in the cups of your bra and simply pull them down until they rest under your tits and force them to stand up. Your chest heaves heavily, your nipples perky, not only because of the chilly air but definitely because of his undivided attention.

He suddenly brings his thumbs to his lips, one after the other, quickly licking the digits, before his hands cup your tits, his wet thumbs rubbing over your perked nipples, a sensation that has you release a small whimper. His hands start to softly massage your breasts, and you thank all deities for his setter hands, so big and warm and skilled, feeling so good against your bare skin. Your own fingers grab into the cushion below you while you try not to squirm too much—not that you could escape from him now when he's basically straddling you and keeps on playing with your tits.

It feels good—really good, the tingling sensation between your legs growing stronger with each passing second, and you start to wiggle underneath him, your body aching for more of his touch. Atsumu notices the shift in your demeanor and softly pinches your nipples one last time before he moves a bit down, his hands caressing your bare sides while he does so. The way he's treating you makes you almost whine out loud, so soft and tenderly, it's making your head spin. "I love how your skin feels. So soft and warm." He mumbles, his eyes scanning your whole body before he suddenly gets up, just enough to not sit on you anymore. Instead, he kneels between your legs, grabbing your thighs and pushing them apart a bit further to have a good look at your panties. "A matching set?" he asks when his eyes wander back to the bra that still pushes your tits up. "Yes," you nod a bit breathless and flustered, and the way he's taking things so slow makes you feel even more needy for him, while he seems so calm and cool. Probably his year-long experience of keeping his cool every single day when he's playing.

"I like it. But I think these need to go." He nods towards your panties, the sheer material not hiding much actually, but the clear wet stain on them makes the situation even more scandalous. You nod with reddened cheeks, and he places two fingers against the wet stain, caressing and softly rubbing against the spot, while keeping his eyes on your face. "Though, I'm really glad to see that yer enjoyin' this as much as I do." His finger softly presses inside of you, just a little bit with your panties still between you, a shock of electricity rushing though your body when the fabric stretches against your clit, and his finger enters just the tiniest bit inside of you. He stills for a second, watching your reaction for a second, before he brings his other hand to the fabric, hesitating, before he clears his throat before he meets your gaze. "Can I rip 'em?"

You stare at him with wide eyes, unable to form words, understanding that this is something that he wants to do even though he seems slightly embarrassed by it. You're so turned on by the question though that you simply nod, and he brings both of his hands to the fabric and pulls. It takes him two more attempts before the fabric softly rips, his attempt to be gentle and careful to you very clear, and the simple display of his suppressed strength has your pussy clenching around nothing. He scoots slightly back, his eyes focused on your cunt, drinking in the sight of you, while you tremble in anticipation. This is even better than all the fantasies you've had about him so far, all the dirty thoughts about his arms and thighs that made you stick your hands into your panties when you're in need of release. All of that can't compare to what you're feeling right now.

"I'll eat ya out first 'kay? Get ya nice and ready for me." You open your mouth, ready to protest that you're already wet for him and you don't need further prep, and that you just want him to fuck you, but your protest gets stuck in your throat when he settles on his stomach, his arms grabbing your legs and hoisting the above his shoulders. He is on eye-level with your pussy and you suddenly feel so exposed, yet still so safe with him.

"So pretty," he mumbles, and you're not sure if that was even meant for you to hear, and you let out a gasp and a soft choke of his name when he softly licks against your folds. Softly, just testing the waters- and judging by your reaction, his is convinced that he can do more to you. His tongue licks against your folds again, harder this time, putting more pressure on you and you mewl contently. "Just like that, pretty girl. Let me do my thing and enjoy yourself. Part of my husband duties, to keep my wife satisfied."

He kisses against your entrance, resting his lips on yours and letting his tongue peak out just the tiniest to get you a feeling of it, and you clench involuntarily at the feeling of his warm tongue. He licks against your folds again, this time pausing when he reaches your clit, softly closing his lips around it and sucking. "Atsumu-" you gasp with wide eyes, your legs almost caging his head when he sucks a bit rougher. "Shhhhhsh," he hushes you and sucks just a tad bit softer, one of his hands letting go of your leg and moving between your legs too. Your breathing pattern is irregular and you moan when you feel a wave of need rush through your body.

One of his fingers prods against your entrance while he keeps his lips enclosed on your clit and you feel like you're going to explode. It's hot- so, so hot when he softly pushes a digit inside you, his tongue messily licking your clit until your eyes roll back and your back arches off the bed- you can imagine how lewd you look right now. Flushed cheeks, crossed eyes, your tits exposed while you arch your back like you're in heat with Atsumu's head between your legs, licking your cunt while he fingers you open.

It's hot, oh, so hot. The way he's pumping his finger inside of you, slowly adding another one when he feels you easing up for him. The way he's licking up all of your arousal, groaning against you and humping the bed for a bit of friction for himself while he gives you pleasure. The way he's watching you heavy lidded, probably unable to see much of your face, but the occasional glances of your expression are enough for him. He's addicted to your taste, addicted to the way you moan his name, softly at the beginning, but now with more urgency and need, getting louder for him when he increases the pace of his fingers. You didn't know what to do with your hands at first, but now you're gripping his hair and pushing him ever so softly against your pussy, unable to resist the need to get more friction, and he so willingly gives you more. The wet sounds of his fingers pushing into you and the way he's messily eating you out makes you feel like you're in heaven. He could do this for hours, worship your taste and listen to your sweet sounds, but he can feel you clenching repeatedly around his fingers, indicating just how close you are.

"Tsumu- I can't- gonna-" you barely manage to form words, moans and deep breaths hindering you from saying what you want to say, but he simply keeps going at the same pace and you suddenly feel your high overwhelming you.

It's too much. The heat, his face between your legs, the way he's fingering you, the way his tongue is teasing your clit and giving you just the right amount of attention- it takes you like a wave and you feel your muscles tensing and arching against his face while you come. Your mouth is wide open a lewd sounds leave your lips while you feel the delicious sensation rushing through your body. Atsumu doesn't change his position, nor his pace, he simple keeps his ministrations up and licks up your juices until you only whimper softly and your hand falls weakly onto the couch. He kisses your cunt, gentle and caring while he pulls his fingers out, his lips ever so soft while he whispers a praise against your folds, and you feel how you blush at the sudden unexpected sweetness.

Your body finally relaxes and you fall back into the cushions. He slows down his ministrations and looks at his hand with a grin, your slick on them evident. You focus your eyes on him and follow all of his movements when he shortly licks his fingers with a groan before he grabs his shirt, his fingers leaving a mess on the dark fabric before he pulls it over his head and throws it away. You silently ogle him, taking in the sight of him, broad chest heaving heavily, strongly defined shoulders and arms, and the slightest bit of dark hair trailing down to the band of sweatpants. "Ya alright? Wanna go further?" His voice is a bit raspy and his cheeks slightly reddened and it makes your heart beat faster. His hands find your sides and softly caress the skin while he waits for your answer. He's still hard, you can see it through the fabric of his pants, but you're convinced that he would not push you to go further, no matter how painful it is for him. You look at him softly and nod, a small smile on your face when you reach out to him. "Kiss me, please?"

He nods with an approving hum and leans down to kiss you, his weight now settling on your body in a comforting way. Your hands reach for his hair when he kisses you, your body arching up against his when his lips meet yours in a gentle but firm kiss. You allow your hands to wander and to explore his naked body while you return the kiss, your tongue moving against his while you rake your nails softly against his bare back. You can feel a shudder running down his spine and you repeat the motion, only to be rewarded with a little groan against your lips. You let one of your hands roam to his stomach, feeling the muscles clench under your fingers, and hesitantly move further down to the trail of soft hair, waiting for him to either stop you or to encourage you.

Atsumu is quick to raise his hips to allow you to have your way, his hips raising just enough to allow your to move your hand between your bodies. The soft hair on his abdomen tickles the palm of your hand and you let your fingers roam to the hem of his pants, until you feel the bulge. He inhales sharply when you palm him through his pants, his muscles clenching hardly when he finally gets some friction. You softly move your hand, feeling his length, the hardness of him, his balls, heavy and full. He takes a shaky breath, his eyes closing for a second, before he opens them abruptly and leans down to kiss you. His lips are glued to yours, deepening the kiss while he angles his face to push his tongue just a bit rougher against yours. You finally move your hand inside his pants, fingers hesitating for a second at the hem, but then you slide them under the fabric and reach for his cock.

He is big. Big and warm, wet with precum already, and you trace the shape with one of your fingers while your other hand holds his shoulders for support.

You explore his cock, getting a feel of him, how long he is, how he feels against your skin- and you love every single second of it. You softly close your hand around his shaft and start stroking, being rewarded with an airy gasp against your lips. You start jerking him of, moving your hand in a steady rhythm, while making sure that you don't push him too far. "So good," he rasps against your lips and you moan in response, feeling a wave of adrenaline rushing through your body. Your free hand moves to his ass, boldly pulling the fabric down, and clumsily you release his cock after you managed to pull his pants down just enough to have his cock spring free and to poke between your legs.

You only now realize that he is indeed bigger than you thought- just having him pressing himself against your body makes your eyes open widely. He looks at you through half-lidded eyes, observing al of your reactions while he waits for you to make a move, effectively showing you that you're in charge. He just hovers above you and looks at you expectantly.

As if you could stop now. Your body is screaming for him, aching for him and you simply spread your legs further and gently grab his cock, lining him up at your entrance without any more words.

His eyes widen, clearly surprised by you taking the initiative this fast, but he nods and seems to brace himself for what you're about to do. You collect some of your slick with the mushroom head of his cock, making sure he is well-lubricated before you line him up once again. Atsumu suddenly takes in a sharp breath and pushes his hips back, just out of reach for you now- much to your confusion. Did you read the signs wrong? What if he doesn't want to-

"Do ya want me to use a condom? I don't mind, ya just hafta tell me and-" he starts and vaguely gestures towards the bedroom, and you look at him wide eyed.

"Tsumu-" you whisper, your heart swelling with affection, tears almost dwelling in your eyes at his honest expression. "I uhm... I'm assuming that you're clean? i don't mind if you... if you don't use a condom. I use contraceptives." You know that your cheeks are bright red while you keep talking, but the moment just feels so painfully intimate, when you're basically asking him to fuck you raw- it almost feels like love. It makes you vulnerable and you have a hard time looking into his eyes, but he is quick to turn your face towards him, his hand gently cupping your chin, while more of his weight suddenly lasts on you.

He looks at you for a moment, not saying anything, simply studying your face before he presses his lips against yours in a longing and gentle kiss. You return the kiss your hands quickly wrapping around his broad shoulders while you move your lips against his. He pulls back, his eyes so soft while he watches you. "Your trust means a lot to me. I'll make sure to keep it forever."

You're too flustered to say anything, your heart heavily pounding in your chest, so you take that as a cue and line his cock up at your entrance, this time angling your hips a bit, until the head of his cock disappears between your folds and stretches you out. "Please-" you gasp for air when you feel him pushing inside. You see how his gaze turns hazy, your own eyes also unable to focus on the sight of him while he pushes deeper and deeper inside of you, until he's finally bottoming out. His breath is shaky, his facial expression looks like a mixture of shock and pure bliss. "Yer- squeezin' me- so good, fuck," his eyes roll back, his muscles clenching hard while he tries to keep his weight as steady as he can.

You're not any better under him. His cock feels so big inside of you, a stretch that you haven't felt for so long, feeling better like anything you've ever had before. You feel tears dwelling in your eyes- from pleasure and from feeling so close to him, so connected like you're meant to be with each other, and he is quick to notice the change in your expression. "What's wrong?" He seems more focused when he leans down to press kisses to your cheeks, your nose, your lips, gentle while he holds you. "N-nothing. It's just- I'm feeling a lot of things right now- please, Tsumu, I- I just like you so much-" your voice is low and soft, and he lifts his face to look at you, his expression so gentle and kind, you're sure that you'll never forget this moment. "I like ya too. Don't wanna live without ya, y/n. Yer precious to me- in a way I don't think anyone has been precious to me." His confesses, and you feel like your heart is skipping a beat.

He's not confessing his love to you- you've only known each other for a few months, with a rather long pause during the incident, it's too early to talk about love. Yet, you're convinced that he feels the same. That you're both made for each other and will love each other. Unconditionally.

You both don't need more words, and he presses his forehead against yours and looks deeply into your eyes while he starts to move his hips. Your jaw drops and your lips part slightly when he pulls away, his cock almost leaving you completely before he thrusts back in, slowly and controlled, so much that it drives you crazy. You can't even talk and beg him to do it again, yet he still understands what you need, and repeats the motion, thrusting into you nice and slow just how he is convinced that you like it. You moan softly, your breath meeting his lips while he starts setting a pace, sensual and slow, angling his hips slightly different until your hands grab into his shoulders just a bit harder when he hits the spot that makes you see stars. He curses when you clench around him, but he doesn't stop but keeps thrusting just a bit harder.

You don't know how long he keeps on fucking you like this, the pace nice and slow, just like lovers would, both of you enjoying the pleasure of being so, so close to each other, until you can't help but to feel your high approaching. Your legs wrap tighter around his waist, your heels digging into his back while you clench around him, knowing that you're almost there. His facial expression shifts at that sensation and his eyes shoot wide open.

"Fuck- y/n-" he groans and suddenly grabs your hips tighter when he pulls out- completely this time. Your jaw drops at the loss of friction, your hips trying to fight against his grip to bring him to push back into you- fruitlessly.

"Why are you-" you whine, feeling robbed and empty, your body needing him to be closer, needing him to give you something. "Shhh, I got ya." He moves your hips and you understand what he's trying to do, helping him to move your body until you're kneeling in front of him. The new position makes you tremble uncontrollably, and you know that his gaze is focused on your pussy while you nervously shift in his grip. "So, so pretty," he groans and leans down to press a kiss against your ass cheek, and you whimper at the praise.

"My pretty princess, I'll make ya feel so good, 'kay? Just a bit more, can ya wait for me, huh? I'll fill ya up nice and good if ya do." You could come from his dirty talk and his voice alone, your pussy helplessly clenching at the thought of what there is to come, and you loudly moan when he finally pushes inside, the angle so much deeper than before, it makes you see starts and until you tighten around him like a vice. He curses, his hands gripping your ass cheeks hard and spreading them to watch his cock disappear into your wet folds. You meet his thrust, desperate for more friction, and he slams back into you harder, making you slowly lose your mind. Your arms give up and your face lands on the pillow, but you barely notice that, all of your nerves only consisting of the pleasure that Atsumu is giving you.

"Fuck, y/n- can ya cum for me? Can ya do that, pretty princess?" He groans, one of his hands releasing your ass to rub circles on your clit- a little sloppy and uncoordinated at first, but when he finally hits the spot you drool on the bed sheets. "Tsumu- gonna cum- gonna cum for you-" you whine out loudly, and it only spurs him on to move faster until you cry out his name, only able to form this one word while you clench around him and reach your high. You realize that he's cumming to, but he doesn't slow down, his groans turning into an overstimulated whimper while he keeps on fucking you while cumming. He's coming so much inside of you, it's already dripping down your leg before he's even finished, but you enjoy the feeling of the hot sticky liquid on your skin.

You don't know how much time has passed until you finally calm down and simply lose all tension. He softly pulls out and places your hips on the couch before he collapses and flatly lays down on his back next to you. His arms reach out for you, and you allow him to pull you against his sweaty chest. You're sweaty too- something that you only notice now, but he doesn't seem to mind. He's probably used to sweat anyway. His hand starts caressing your hair, and your fingers roam along his chest, feeling the soft flushed skin under your fingers.

"How was it?" His hand still caresses your hair while you lay on his chest, listening contently to the sound of his heartbeat with a smile forming on your lips. "That was... really good," you airily laugh and cuddle closer against his chest, and he wraps his free arm tightly around you, instantly making you feel warmer when your barely clad chest presses against his naked one.

"Just really good? I'll need to work on my stamina, can't have ya sayin' really good only. Wasn't that mind blowing or something like that? Felt mind-blowing to me at least."

You softly snort at his words and look up to him, only to find him looking at you fondly. "Wanna stay over? I'll order some take out and we can finish that movie?" His eyes flicker to the screen, only to see that the movie is basically over. "Or we can start another movie. I think there is a sequel to that."

"Shouldn't we finish the first one before we start the sequel?" You look at him with raised brows, and he laughs softly at your reaction. "You're perfect. Just stay right here." His arm wraps around you, and you feel warmth in your heart,

while you lie in the arms of your husband.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #atsumu x reader #atsumu #atsumu smut #HERE YOU GO!#I caught a cold unfortunately right after I finished my exams #I'm laying in bed all day #but I'm sure it will be better soon #I hope you enjoyed this part #it's so long omg #like the longest I've ever written I think #I hope it's alright #I tried proofreading it but I'm sure I missed some things lol #I hope you'll still enjoy it! <3 #LOVE YA! <3 #I'll be more active now! because I'm on my semester break <3

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millenialfanfictionaddiction · 2 years

Text

Ushijima YN: Being Ushijima's Sister

and Secretly Dating Kiyoko

Kiyoko Shimizu X fem! Reader

Warnings: again none (who is she 🤣 wholesome who?)

A/N: This is an Anon request! This one is also pretty self indulgent because Kiyoko would be an AMAZING partner!

🏳️‍🌈 Please Like, Share, Comment to support my writing 🏳️‍🌈

Ok- nobody panic

*Que Tanaka and Noya panicking*

We all knew this day would come ok

The day Kiyoko was snatched up

Honestly pray for Karasuno 🙏🏻

It's about to be at least a months worth of mourning ☹️

Who will hold Suga's hand?

Who will deflect rogue balls to save Yachi 😱

Who will smack all the butts?

Definitely not Kiyoko 🤣

Ok in all seriousness

This is a big deal 😬

Fortunately Kiyoko knows this and is very much prepared

You, however are not 👀

But before we get to that, let's get into how you met your lovely girlfriend 🙌🏻

Que a tournament 👏🏻

Not sure which one, they all blend together at this point

But you were there cheering on your brother and SHIRATORIZAWA 👏🏻 👏🏻 👏🏻 👏🏻 👏🏻

Oh did I forget to mention your brother is Ushijima Wakatoshi

Making you Ushijima YN 🤗

Love that for you

Anyways, since our lovely Shiratorizawa bbys have no Manager

You volunteered to help

Did I say volunteered? Oh silly me, I meant forced

You were forced to fill up water bottles by Semi who literally saw you walking into the gym and handed you the bottles

"Here's YN you're not busy"- Semi handing you the teams water bottles

You 👉🏻👁👄👁 I'm just here to watch-

"Come on YN be a team player!"- Tendou

"YN isn't on our team Tendou"- Ushijima 😐

"You know what, fine I'll help"- you walking away to fill up the water bottles

Suddenly you see greeted with the sight that is Kiyoko

Hear that? That's angel's singing 😇

👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻 need I say more

You are completely stunned by her beauty

You manage to somehow navigate your way to the water fountain while staring at her

Honestly YN get a grip 🙄

You start to fill up waterbottles, while staring 😳

Seriously YN-

"Umm your water bottle is overflowing"- Kiyoko says as you look down to see the water flowing all over

"Crap- uh I'm sorry"- you mutter

Kiyoko laughs and smiles

"Don't be! I'm Kiyoko and you are-"

"Yn- it's nice to meet you!"- you say shaking her hand

You talk a little while you fill water bottles and walk back to the gym

Before it's too late, you gather the courage to just go for it and ask

"Hey can I get your phone number? You seem like a cool person"- you say, blushing

"Yeah!"- Kiyoko says grabbing her phone and waiting for you to give her your number

"I texted you! See you around YN"- she says waving as she runs away

You quickly make your way back to the gym to see the boys gearing up for their match

"What took you so long YN?"- Kawanishi asked

"I'm literally doing free labor. Be thankful!"- you sneer

"You could at least do it in a timely manner"- Shirabu says

You 👉🏻😐 YN out ✌🏻

As you walk to the bleachers you check your phone to see Kiyoko had texted you

"Hey cutie 🥰"

Someone please make sure YN is breathing OK 🤚🏻

Thus begins the ship known as KiyoYN

You start hanging out with Koyoko whenever you can

Going to bookstores and coffeeshops on the weekends and sometimes hanging out at the library doing homework

It's honestly a super wholesome relationship 🥺

It's calm, fun and a nice break from reality

Until is comes completely crashing down 🥰

Now you and Kiyoko were never under the illusion that your relationship would be a secret

You just enjoyed not sharing what you had with the public

And by "public" I mean Karasuno and Shiratorizawa

So let's get the easiest one out of the way first shall we

We all remember Kageyama and Hinata's visit to Shiratorizawa

The one that apparently got Ushijima in trouble

Anyways, our two little dummies accidently left their waterbottles laying on the Shiratorizawa grounds 🙄

Please can you imagine him being disaplined at all 😅

Someone's literally yelling at him and Ushi is just like " 🧍‍♂️ 😐 "

How do you disapline a tree??? Like fr-

When Hinata and Kageyama tell the team about what happened

Daichi about loses his ever loving mind

Suga is trying not to laugh

And Kiyoko is just rolling her eyes 🙄

Tsukishima is filming it for the Karasuno Volleyball teams Instagram page

Side note 👇🏻

Karasuno and Seijoh's volleyball teams both have an Instagram page and follow each other 🤚🏻

Kunimi runs Seijoh's and Tsukki runs Karasunos

Back to the program

"Now how are we going to get those water bottle back? We should make you two march over there, apologize and beg for them back!"- Daichi

Hinata and Kageyama do not want to do that

"I'll get them back"- Kiyoko interjects

"Sweet Kiyoko we will not allow you to put yourself in danger!"- Noya shouts

"Really it's fine"- Kiyoko says taking out her phone and calling you

"Hey YN can I swing by and grab Hinata and Kageyama's water bottles?"- she says

"Of course! I'm waiting for Wakatoshi but I'll be outside the gates"- you say

"Great see you in a bit" she says putting her phone away and changing her shoes

"Be right back"- Kiyoko says taking off and running to Shiratorizawa 🏃‍♀️

Everyone is stunned

Who is YN? How does Kiyoko know you? Why do you go to Shiratorizawa?

"OH MY GOD WHAT IF KIYOKO GETS KIDNAPPED?"- Tanaka yells as he takes off after Kiyoko 😱

Please it's literally just a trickling effect of panic

Soon the entire Karasuno team is chasing after Kiyoko as she runs to Shiratorizawa

Meanwhile you are outside the gates waiting with the water bottles

You look to see Kiyoko approaching and wave 👋🏻

Only then to see, out of the corner of your eye

The entire Shiratorizawa team approaching from the right

Well crap 😐

"Hey YN" -Tendou say waving

Ok play it cool YN

Suddenly Kiyoko is in front of you, smiling as she grabs for the water bottles

Shiratorizawa is quickly approaching and now Karasuno is coming up from behind

WHAT IS HAPPENING???? 😲

Everyone stops when Kiyoko leans in taking the bottles from you and kissing your cheek

The world 👉🏻 Gone. Exploded.

Shiratorizawa 👉🏻😐😳😱

Karasuno 👉🏻😐😳🤯

You 👉🏻😅😅😅

Kiyoko 👉🏻🥰🥰🥰

"Uhh YN- what's going on?"- Reon asks

"Well- you see-"

"Yn and I are dating"- Kiyoko says

Just throw it out there

Transparency is best 👏🏻

Tanaka and Noya look and point at you

Then they look at point at Kiyoko

You both just nod

Tanaka and Noya 👉🏻 faint 💀

Ushiwaka seems to be the only one unimpressed by this development

"YN you look very happy"- Wakatoshi 😐

You 👉🏻 I am 🙂

"Then I'm happy for you"- Wakatoshi

You and Kiyoko 👉🏻😳🥺 really?

Everyone else is still top stunned to speak

Finally Suga manages words

"Kiyoko you seem happy"- Suga

"I am, very much"- Kiyoko

You laugh and shrug

"Well ok then. YN it was very nice to meet you. Sorry for- well, this"- Suga says pointing at Tanaka and Noya on the ground

Poor Ennoshita is just standing over them like "Well what now-"

Shiratorizawa is still too stunned to speak

Tendou 👉🏻🖐🏻👁⭕️👁🖐🏻 YN WHY DIDNT YOU TELL ME

"She just did"- Ushiwaka

"I meant sooner!"- Tendou

Please YN, get a hold on it

Well YN, sometimes fairytale have to come to an end

"We were enjoying just being together"- you say

"Yeah without all of this"- Kiyoko says gesturing to thing 1 and thing 2 on the ground

And yours ended in chaos 🤣

Good thing you still got the girl 🥰

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