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#hq x you
eggyrocks · 2 days
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part seventeen: maybe: piece of shit miya
m.list
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fun facts
bluey is yn’s comfort show and since she’s dealing with a break up and a friend break up (🫣) she’s been watching it too much lately. tsukishima watches it with her
noya hates it
for once in his life oikawa is actually taking iwa’a advice
he figured he was out of options after a week of yn ignoring him and that giving her space might actually be the best option for him
yn hasn’t been leaving the house other than classes and work
a rude customer tried to be mean to her over an order and yn just burst out crying
said customer just tipped her in cash and then left
her and hinata and kageyama went to a movie and it was actually a refreshing change of pace for her :) they had a good time
album playing in the coffeee shop today: pure heroin by lorde
taglist: @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @publicbathroompanic @bedeater @rottingt1tz @rintarawr @deluluforcarlos55 @ahseyy @localgaytrainwreck @cherrypieyourface @baskin-robinhoods @polish-cereal @iheartamora @ferntv @eclecticeggknightpsychic @httpakkeiji @does-directions @garden-of-bri @shotenvinsoot @sugartits123 @awktwurtle @randomidk-123 @httpakkeiji @hikikaimar @eyes-ofhell @noodleswastaken @nnnyxie @hermaeusmorax @rasisarchive @lees-chaotic-brain @marzzn @phoenix-eclipses @causenessus @ilychee08 @yxcntruu @cotton-eee @sleepy-time @cannibalsrider @k8nicole @ekeio @bae-ashlynn @macchiatomegumi @r0seandth0rns @astereim @rebirthbunbun @glitch-karma @ganyours @bookworm-center @kindlyemely @pinksilk (taglist is closed)
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luvingtsumu · 1 day
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( MIYA ATSUMU & SAKUSA KIYOOMI X FEM!READER )
atsumu and you had fun tormenting kiyoomi, but the three of you had more fun when atsumu and kiyoomi were tormenting you instead.
content— smut, trio, oral (male receiving), bisexual!atsumu, vaginal penetration, vaginal fingering, bisexual!kiyoomi, anal penetration, overstimulation, degradation, creepies, voyeurism, focused on reader.
author’s note— i don’t even know how this came out of my mind. btw tell me if i’m missing some tags 🙏
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It felt good for Kiyoomi. Finally having a bit of peace and quiet after you and Atsumu tormented him for the whole night on his birthday party, that by the way, he didn’t even want in the first place.
He let out a long sigh before looking down. Well, it was almost all peace and quiet
“Can you two stop making such noises?” he said, pushing both of your heads to keep them around his cock “Yeah, just like that.”
“Omi—” Atsumu tried to whine, but his head was immediately pushed back to keep licking the length of his cock.
“Shut up.” he grunted “At least you two finally have something good to do with your mouths, hm?” his lips curled up.
You didn’t knew where to look, in front of you to see Atsumu’s face as he licked Kiyoomi’s cock with you, or up to see Kiyoomi’s mocking smirk.
You ended up just closing your eyes.
The warmth between your legs was unbearable as Kiyoomi kept pushing your head against Atsumu’s so you both would suck the sides of his cock at the same time.
It felt so lewd coming from him. And that made it 10 times better.
“Shit.” he mumbled, scoffing “You two do this as if you’ve been waiting for this moment— Mgh.”
Atsumu let out a moan too, his cock was hard and throbbing, hell, he couldn’t even think about who he wanted to fuck the most.
You, probably. And Kiyoomi probably did too; because he pushed Atsumu’s head away and quickly slid his cock in your mouth, cumming down your throat.
Such a nice thing for Atsumu to see.
“Ah.” he let out a breath “Yer so rude, I wanted some too, Omi-Omi.” he whined.
“I bet you did.” Kiyoomi said, raising your head to check if you swallowed everything without leaving a drop.
You licked your lips as you lazily looked up at Kiyoomi with a smirk “Geez, you’re so dirty, Omi.”
“Right? I would tell the team but no one would believe me.” Atsumu added “Who would think ya were like this?”
“You two never know when to keep your mouth’s shut.” he frowned “Miya, sit up.”
“Yes, sir.” he said mockingly.
“You want more?” he asked you, your eyes shining when he pulled your hair, making a groan escape your throat “Of course you do.”
Atsumu sat up in bed, looking at both of you with such hunger in his eyes as he stroked himself over the clothes.
“Take them off.” Kiyoomi ordered in his direction, and who was Atsumu to deny him? No one. Much less when his cock was crying in his shorts.
He moaned in relief as the cold air of the room hit his hot skin. Your eyes looked at his cock with desire, and you couldn’t hide that from Kiyoomi.
“Oh, you’re salivating for this.” Kiyoomi pushed your head towards Atsumu’s cock “Suck.”
You looked up at Atsumu, he looked at you with a mix of lust, amusement, and like he really wanted this.
“Don’t mind if I do...” you whispered, leaning towards his tip before taking all his length in one go.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Atsumu moaned, raising his hips, making you gag.
Kiyoomi stepped back as he watched the scene, slowly fucking onto his fist.
Your head was only pulled out of Atsumu’s cock to catch air before you suck it all again, drool coming out of the corner of your lips. It was sloopy, lewd, vulgar. It was perfect.
The dark haired watched without missing a detail. He saw Atsumu’s hand pulling your hair, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as the lewdest sounds escaped his lips. You were cupping his balls, stroking them as you pressed your thighs against eachother, trying to get friction where you were the most needier.
“Such filthy sluts.” he said, Atsumu looked up at him, red cheeks and a thin layer of sweat on his forehead.
“Omi.” he moaned “W-wanna fuck her, please. Need to fuck her.”
“You wanna fuck her?” he said, getting behind you as you were on your knees “You think she’s ready?”
Kiyoomi grabbed your hips, raising them until you were standing on your feet again, making you arch your back to continue sucking Atsumu’s cock, an uncomfortable position that you didn’t even mind, you were so concentrated in how good Atsumu was throbbing in your mouth.
“She’s so wet.” he said, looking at the wet spot on your jeans; he pulled them down in one go along with your panties.
“Omi.” Atsumu whined as he saw Kiyoomi gripping your ass.
“You’re so whiny.” he sighed, sliding one finger into your pussy.
Your lips separated from Atsumu’s cock to let out a loud moan, that was quickly silenced by Atsumu pushing his manhood down your throat once again.
“Shit, it feels better now.” Atsumu groaned, your moans send vibrations up his body “Keep her moanin’ like that.”
Kiyoomi scoffed, sliding a second finger inside you “I don’t think she’s ready, she’s squeezing me.”
“Like that!” Atsumu quickly spoke “Want her like that. Wanna cum inside her.” he whimpered.
“Hm…” Kiyoomi thought about it for a bit. Could you take it?
Does it matter?
Your lips separated from Atsumu’s cock with a ‘pop’ sound, Kiyoomi pulled you up, carrying you as if you weighed nothing; expected from a professional athlete.
“You better put up a show for me.” Kiyoomi said, sitting you on Atsumu’s lap, your back against his chest.
Atsumu immediately gripped your hips, and when you less knew it, his cock was already sliding inside of you.
“Fuck! Atsumu!” you moaned, head falling back onto his shoulder.
“God, yer right, Omi.” Atsumu said, thrusting onto you “She’s so tight.”
Kiyoomi sat up in one of the chairs in front of the bed, his eyes focused on Atsumu’s cock sliding in and out of your pussy.
Atsumu messily took your shirt off, throwing it somewhere in the room as he kissed your neck, fucking you silly.
“Give me a break.” you whimpered, turning your head towards Atsumu’s.
“Yer squeezin’ me, ya like how I fuck ya?” he turned his head to look at you for a few seconds before his eyes locked with Kiyoomi’s “Like whatcha see?”
Kiyoomi groaned as he moved his hand faster around his cock. As much as he hated you two, as insufferable as you were, both of you were so gorgeous. Everything he looked for in a man was in Atsumu, and everything he looked for in a woman was in you.
Atsumu’s head turned again and captured your lips into a messy kiss, tongues intertwined as he kept fucking you like it was his last day on this earth.
You were so turned on, you hadn’t feel like this in a while, you could feel your own wetness go down your ass. Was it because of Kiyoomi watching? Atsumu fucking you? Both of them willing to make you drunk in cock?
“Cumming! I’m cumming!” you whimpered, drool going down your chin.
“Cum fer me, pretty.” Atsumu said, kissing and sucking your neck as he took his hand to rub your clit.
You closed your eyes, feeling like you were about to pass out as your legs started shaking uncontrollably while you came on the spot.
Atsumu stopped moving for a second, you were able took a deep breath before you felt him pushing into you again.
“W-wait!” you quickly opened your eyes, looking down at his cock sliding up into you again, his thrusts becoming more deep, reaching that gummy spot that made you whimper like a kicked puppy.
“Need to cum too.” he moaned.
“I c-can’t.” you cried, your vision was so blurry that you barely managed to see Kiyoomi standing in front of you.
“Shh…” he whispered as he pushed your head down, his tip hitting your lips before you opened them welcoming to start sucking him.
Atsumu hit you rough from behind, his thrusts pushing you more into Kiyoomi’s cock, you felt as if you were flying, being barely able to breathe.
“Cummin’!” Atsumu announced, and your walls squeezed him “Ah— Don’t worry, pretty, gonna cum inside ya.”
You felt Atsumu’s warm sperm painting your insides, and that was enough to take you into a second orgasm.
Your lips separated from Kiyoomi’s cock, moaning loudly before you felt Kiyoomi cumming too— in your face.
“Fuck, Miya, look at this.” Kiyoomi said, looking down at your face.
Your eyes were half closed, cum going down your red, puffy cheeks, mouth open in a perfect oval as you tried to catch some air.
Atsumu grabbed you from behind again, pushing you against his chest so he’ll be able to see your face.
“Ah, do I get some too? Finally.” he smirked before he leaned towards your face, licking Kiyoomi’s cum out of your face.
“You’re so disgusting.” Kiyoomi mumbled, keeping his eyes on both of you while his cock slowly hardened again.
“Yer not fun.” he snickered, his hand grabbing Kiyoomi’s cock, making him groan “It’s yer turn, Omi-Omi.”
With one hand he kept you in place while the other one lined Kiyoomi’s cock with your abused pussy.
“Wait…I can’t.” you mumbled, lazily opening your eyes to look down.
“Ya can, pretty, don’t worry.” Atsumu chuckled quietly, slowly pushing Kiyoomi’s head into your pussy until Kiyoomi himself pushed all of his length inside of you.
You moaned, biting your lip as you leaned back onto Atsumu’s warmth.
“She’s awake?” Kiyoomi said, starting to slowly thrust inside of you.
“She is.” Atsumu nodded, slowly making circles on your back with his thumb, moving your hair aside so it wouldn’t stick onto your forehead.
“Now, this is the only way you two can agree on something and work as two civil people?” you mumbled, groaning when Atsumu gripped your hips, keeping you in place as Kiyoomi fucked onto you.
“It’s amazin’, isn’t it?” Atsumu smirked “We found somethin’ else to do outside of court.”
“We should’ve kept it in you and I torturing him, not you and him torturing me.”
“Ya like this better, don’t lie.” he chuckled “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on ya…I don’t know about him though.”
You glanced at Kiyoomi pounding your pussy, his hands under your knees, keeping your legs open.
“Wait, what?” you said, then a loud gasp escaped your lips when Atsumu started pushing his tip on your ass.
“Mm…” he hummed, slowly pushing onto you, using your own fluids as lube.
Your legs were almost completely numb, and your moans were becoming louder and louder as Atsumu’s cock slid completely inside your hole. Now with Kiyoomi thrusting onto your pussy, and Atsumu’s cock being kept inside of your ass, you felt yourself reaching your climax again.
“Fuck! I’m gonna cum, Omi!” you whimpered.
Atsumu clicked his tongue “I didn’t even get to move and yer already cummin’? Disrespectful if ya ask me.”
Atsumu gripped your waist as he slowly pulled his cock out, then he pushed it all in again, grabbing a peace with Kiyoomi so when his cock was out, his was in.
Hot tears rolled down your cheeks, your mouth completely open and nothing but whimpers and moans escaped your throat.
“Damn, Omi.” a mix of a chuckle and a moan escaped Atsumu’s lips “She’s takin’ us so well.”
Kiyoomi took one of his hands to your mouth, sliding three fingers in, making your moans become nothing but muffled babbling.
“She can take us at the same time? She’s such a needy slut. She was born for this.” Kiyoomi’s words made a sob escape your lips “Look how she’s licking my fingers, no doubt she could take another cock in her mouth too.”
“Ahah! That would be hot as hell, Omi-Omi.” Atsumu whimpered, smiling like a kid in a candy store as he slapped your butt, leaving a red mark.
“Cu-cumming…” they were barely able to catch your words thanks to Kiyoomi’s fingers in your mouth.
Every sound inside this room was lewd, Kiyoomi’s balls crashing against your skin, Atsumu’s hand slapping your butt, your moans mixed with theirs. Everything was just perfectly measured to send chills down your spine, and to make your reach probably one of the hardest orgasm you ever had.
Even after you came, Kiyoomi and Atsumu kept pushing inside of you, fucking you into overstimulation; you sobbed as your nails dig onto Atsumu’s arms.
“Fuck— Hey, ‘m not the only one fuckin’ ya here, why take it out on me?” Atsumu whined, taking his hand to rub your clit.
A scream escaped your lips as you squirmed on his arms “T-too much!”
“It’s okay.” Kiyoomi mumbled “I’m about to cum, and he’s probably there too.”
“I could go all day, just so ya know.” Atsumu said in a cocky tone, biting his lip.
“Well, the way you’re moaning like a bitch in heat tells me otherwise.” Kiyoomi groaned “I’m gonna cum.” he repeated, his thrusts becoming messy as he reached his own orgasm.
Kiyoomi came inside of you, giving one last thrust to make sure his cum was deep inside of you before he pulled out.
“Give me a s-second.” Atsumu whimpered, pushing deep inside of you as Kiyoomi slid his fingers inside of you.
“F-fuck! Fuck!” you moaned.
“Come on, one more.” Kiyoomi said, starting fucking you with his long fingers.
Atsumu’s thrusts and lips on your neck mixed with Kiyoomi’s fingers inside you were enough, and not even 10 seconds after Kiyoomi put his fingers inside of you, you were cumming again.
“Shit—” Atsumu moaned, cumming inside of you too “A-ah…”
It was as if time stopped for a few seconds, Atsumu pulled out of you and Kiyoomi pulled his fingers out, but you didn’t even feel it.
Their voices felt far from you for a few seconds before you were actually able to make up what they were saying.
“Yer with us?” Atsumu said, slowly rubbing your back.
“She’s fine.” Kiyoomi said, wiping away your tears with his thumb.
You opened your eyes to look at both of them “You two are monsters.”
Atsumu snickered “Hey, Omi, next time let’s bring a third guy, hm? Ya said she could definitely take another cock in her pretty mouth.”
Kiyoomi’s lips curled up. Now that wasn’t a bad idea.
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ferigrieving · 2 days
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masterlist.
★ - fluff ; ☆ - angst ; ✮ - other ; reqs open...
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⊹ ࣪ ˖ j u j u t s u k a i s e n.
⤷ ★ c.k laundry & taxes – one ; two
⤷ ★☆ m.f darkroom chemicals
⤷ ★ t.i sanctum
⊹ ࣪ ˖ h a i k y u u .
⤷ ☆ t.k philophobia – one ; two
⤷ ★ multi semper ad meliora – one
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moechies · 4 months
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why they call you mommy 🍥
boys who call you mommy with the intent of breeding you full and getting you pregnant :
౨ৎ toji fushiguro, nanamin kento, ushijima wakatoshi, atsumu & osamu miya, ran haitani, wakasa imaushi, kunigami rensuke
boys who call you mommy because you have them brainless and crying under your control :
౨ৎ gojo satoru, choso kamo, yuuji itadori, yuuta okkotsu, tendou satori, oikawa tooru, sanzu haruchiyo, kazutora hanemiya, ryusei shidou
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semifilms · 1 year
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ATSUMU, BOKUTO, HINATA, oikawa, tendou, KUROO, aran, kenma, KAGEYAMA, SUNA, hoshiumi, kunimi, SUGAWARA
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420ruffy · 29 days
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his favorite ways to make you cum ,, character insert x afab reader
a/n: i’m halfway through writing this and i’ve realized that you can actually just insert any character of your liking while reading this bc it’s not specific to the character i had in mind when i first started..
eating you out
his favorite sexual activity for sure. not only does he love giving you head and seeing you feel good because of him but it’s relaxing to him. when he’s tired or sad he’ll always crawl in between your legs and start kissing and licking and nibbling on your stomach around your bellybutton and your thighs, coating them in love bruises.
it’s also extremely arousing to him. he loves hearing all the noises you make, and them getting louder and messier and more embarrassing (as you claim) the closer you get to your orgasm. he can’t help but grind his hips into the mattress, moaning into your pussy, the added vibrations making you groan.
he is always so focused on the task and gets lost in your big pussy lips lapping and sucking at them and your puffy clit as if it’s his favorite hobby (it is). his arms are usually always both snaked around your lower half to keep you in place and so he has easier access and can shove his tongue as deep into your cunt as possible. except for if he’s fingering you additionally to licking your clit ofc. then his right hand will be buried deep in your pussy, desperately grazing your g-spot while sucking on your clit until you start rutting your hips against his face and your grip on his hair becomes tighter. oh how he loves it when you tug on his hair while you’re changing his name when you’re cumming..
handjobs
he likes them almost as much as you do. he (especially loves how you go about asking for one though) loves it when you sit in his lap, crossing your legs behind his back and hugging him tight for a few minutes, with your head buried in his neck, kissing it and sucking light bruises into his skin before your kisses and sucks move up to his ear and earlobe. and then his jawline. until your kisses finally reach his lips and he’s too impatient to wait for you any longer so he just immediately licks into your mouth making both of you moan at the feeling of each others soft tongue. you kept moaning and trying to keep up with his aggressive licks but your mind wasn’t ready for it yet so you had to pull back. he chuckled. he knew what question was about to escape your lips. you stayed close to him and started kissing your way back to his neck and ear, nuzzling into him. “can you give me a handjob?” you’d ask sucking on the skin below his ear. you couldn’t see but he was smirking. he chuckled lightly. as if he could ever deny you that.
he picked you up in one swift motion and walked to the bedroom with you throwing you on the bed as soon as you reached it. oh how he loved the look on your face every time he does this. you looked about ready to jump him.
“pants off, pretty.” he would demand before positioning himself behind you and starting to kiss your neck and jawline. he would start slow and grope you aggressively while sucking bruises into your skin. the foreplay was part of why you loved handjobs so much. you just couldn’t get enough of his hands on your body.
by the time he would finally bring his hand down to your clit, after whining and silently begging him to touch you already, you were already wet from the foddling and kissing.
and all the praise and dirty talk that was possible in this position was heavenly. his lips were practically sealed to your ear shell constantly praising you and grunting and moaning in your ear because he knows how much you love it and how much it gets you off.
he loved holding you down with his free arm whenever you’d start chanting his name and wiggling indicating that you were close or already cuming.
mating press
missionary is the basic sex position for a reason. it was just so easy to handle someone this way. the look on your face and the sounds you made every time he’d put your legs up on his shoulder and start drilling into you was so arousing to him.
he didn’t care about how “messy and chaotic and embarrassing” you thought you sounded. that’s part of what was so arousing. the fact that he’s making you feel so good you don’t know what to say or what sound to make and don’t even try to tame yourself and instead just let the sounds escape your lips was so hot to him, he wanted to cum right there.
dickriding
oh how he loved making you cum when you were the one on top. he loved bottoming or subbing and seeing you take control of him and the situation. but he also likes messing with you and he would do anything to hear all the messy embarrassing sounds you make when he drills up into you from below.
the way your eyes would roll back and your moms would become more animalistic at the sudden fast pace was one of his favorite sights to see.
and when it became too much for you and you couldn’t hold yourself up anymore so you’d collapse on top of him and put your arms around him, he would smirk to himself. being able to hold you tight while ramming up into you as fast as possible to make both of you cum while hearing you moan and breathe into his ear was too arousing.
this was originally supposed to be about jason todd (no one’s surprised) but i can also see: hal jordan, dick grayson, roy harper, wally west, toji, nanami, gojo, sae, aiku, karasu, otoya, katakuri, sanji, zoro, shanks, semi eita, atsumu, iwaizumi, tartaglia/childe, itto, laxus dreyar, sting eucliffe, gray, jellal, gajeel, natsu
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renardiererin · 10 months
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just thinking about if rintarou suna had a dick piercing. he’ll have you folded in a mating press, legs on his shoulders, his dick hitting the gummy spot inside your cute little pussy… and the cold metal of the piercing hitting against your gspot. it’s essentially temperature play with how he’s using your dripping cunt to amuse himself. flicking your sensitive interior crevices with the cool metal, watching and laughing with his tongue pistoning out and in of you. giggling when your stomach clenches, when your back arches, etc.
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shoyoist · 5 months
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── 𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 : hinata shoyo.
content: fem!reader. public sεx in the back booth of a cafe. dirty thoughts, teasing, fingering, a little overstimulation, shoyo is a liiittle mean but he's just so eager to have you!! mentioned pussy eating at the end.
— . 。˚ ♡ you just can't wait to have shoyo's fingers in you. and neither can he.
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one of the first things you notice about hinata when you meet up with him after his years away in brazil, is that his hands are big.
he'd already been growing taller and filling out when he left — but that was nearly three years ago, and seeing him for the first time after so long felt like a dream — because despite looking the same, he also looked just that different. it wasn't just his hands, really — he was big. 
his neck was thicker, the expanse between his shoulder and neck offering much more space for your arms than it used to, as you wrapped them around his neck in a hug. his arms, his chest, his stomach, as they press against yours in the embrace, they feel bigger, more muscular than you remembered.
but what you notice the most, what would be a subtle change compared to everything else — is that his hands are so big. maybe because you hadn't seen his hands properly in any of the pictures he'd sent you, but it was the most surprising change about him.
his fingers that just used to be long and lithe, are now thicker — knuckles tough and edges calloused, the backs of them rosy and tanned and the palms hard and smooth, pink at the rounder points.
and as he holds your hands in his, gives you a smile that pours love and longing and happiness and tender adoration into you as he tells you, “hi, baby. i missed you.” — all you can think about is that you want your pussy stuffed with those fingers of his.
and eventually — because he is after all, your beloved shoyo that would do anything for you — you tell him.
hand in hand, walking the distance from your place to the café you used to frequent together, you tell him that his hands are so nice. 
his fingers are so thick (“look! see how big they are compared to mine?”) and then while you're talking to each other over cups of coffee, you finally tell him — albeit slyly and mostly as a tease, you admit that you want his fingers in your cunt.
what you don't expect is for him to immediately oblige.
you're sitting together at the very last booth of the small, cozy little cafe, away from all the windows and concealed from clear view — and you'd thought it'd be cute to fluster him with a dirty little comment, and get him hooked for when you both get home.
but when you tell him, “they'd feel so nice curling deep into my pussy, don't you think?” hinata stares at you for only a few seconds — before he has you pressed against the back of the booth, one legged hooked over his knees and the other dangling over the edge of the seat as he forces your legs open.
“mhm,” he giggles at your wide eyed, stunned expression, wrapping a muscled arm around you and adjusting your position so effortlessly, as his other hand slides past the waistband of your skirt to palm at your clothed cunt. “let's see how it feels, then. oh — pretty pussy's wet already, huh? missed me much?”
you're too dazed by the contact and the delicious feel of his touch on your clit to form words and tell him yes, yes yes you missed him so fucking much, more than he knows — but you think you missed him more than even you know.
his eyes are brighter than you remember as well, you see as you blink up to meet his gaze— 
his body language, his confidence, it's so different compared to how he was before.
you'd only gotten together in your third year of highschool, and really you'd only fucked once before he left for brazil — but you'd loved him long enough to know.
this isn't the same hinata that you kissed good-bye at that train station years ago.
correction: he is the same — but he's also more. 
you stare, stars in your eyes — and he gives you a handsome, rogueish grin as he slips two digits under your panties and into the slick mess of your hole, like he knows every single thing he's doing to you right now.
to your body, to your mind, to your soul.
it's overwhelming enough, to have the love of your life return home to you after more than two years of being so, so far away from you.
overwhelming enough to see that he has changed so very much, to see that suddenly the sunny, sweet boy you'd fallen in love with has become a fire, a hot searing flame that's ready to sweep you off your feet and singe you, burn you with his kisses and his touch.
but right now, you can't even think clearly about it all — because fuck, fuck, fuck, he's sliding his fingers into you, and it feels even better than you thought it would.
“sh—shoyo,” you whimper, cheek pressed to his chest as he shields your body with his, just in case. “wait, wait — didn't mean right now, i—”
“hush,” he hums into your ear, thumb gliding up to find your clit, and when he presses into the sensitive bud, you can only obey and hush — pressing your lips shut tight to prevent the gasp of pleasure that builds in your throat from getting away.
the café had been pretty quiet and peaceful when you'd both walked inside, and even as you ordered from the counter and brought your trays to the back booth — but suddenly, you're so afraid that people might come and see. afraid that a waiter might come over and see.
“sho—” you try, but he shushes you again, and you feel so hot, it's all so sudden you can't think.
“couldn't wait, sunshine, 'm sorry.” he mumbles into your hair, pulling you even closer, and you feel a little cramped as he tugs your legs even further apart, fingers sliding knuckle-deep into you. “was thinking things the whole time, you're so gorgeous now, can't wait when you're so hot.”
“i—” you whimper again, grabbing his shirt and curling it in your fist. “me too, shoyo, me too.” there's an impatience in the both of you that was hardly satiable when kept apart from eachother, but now, with the two of you like this, there's no way to keep it at bay.
the stretch of his fingers in your cunt is impossible. so much compared to your own fingers, so hot and hungry compared to the toys you use (ones he'd bought and sent home to you during his time in brazil).
he fucks his digits into you like he's been dying to do this to you, like he's desperate to hear those pretty sounds you make in his ear again, like he's been thirsting to make you cum like this forever.
you're going to hit your orgasm so quick, you can already feel it.
you're going to cum slumped in the back booth of this little café, that you'd visited so long ago on your first date with hinata. this little café where you'd first kissed him. this little café where you'd had a valentine's day brunch with him, just two months before he left.
“shoyo,” you can't help the moan that slips out, pussy only clenching around harder his digits when you see the way his eyes cloud with lust upon hearing your voice. “shoyo, shoyo — gonna cum.”
you hope nobody hears you — and you hope that if they did, they'll stay the fuck away and mind their own business, and let hinata take care of you.
you need it. he's so warm, so hot, and he's fucking you so good with just his fingers — thumb rolling your clit just fucking right while he curls his fingers into your velvet walls, giggling under his breath when your pussy squelches messily each time. 
“that's right, baby,” he coos, kissing your hair. “cum for me. nice and hard, mkay? else we might hafta try again.”
his voice cracks so well at just the right moment as he says it — and you don't know if it's the zap of need that courses through you at the sound of his voice breaking, or if it's just the bliss he's giving you with his fingers that makes you cum instantly, but you do.
your pussy wraps around his fingers so tight — your own hand flying up to clamp over your mouth and muffle your cry, as your body finally unfreezes and you crash into your high.
knees knocking together and squeezing hinata's arm between your legs, you fall lax against the leather seating of the booth — cushioned by his body because he still has his other arm secured around you — and you cum. “fuck, shoyo.”
“that's good,” hinata encourages, his whisper hot in the shell of your ear. “fuck, so messy. so messy, baby, how do we clean you up?”
you can't help it — and he's making it worse, curling his fingers in, knuckles digging into your walls as he tries to go even deeper, never relieving the pressure he's out on your clit, god— “shoyo, fuck, fuck.” you’re afraid you might shatter into a million pieces right there on the damn seat. you haven’t had someone else touch you in a long time, and getting an orgasm ripped from you like this is almost too much. “sho—shoyo, please.”
“please, what?” he giggles, still unrelenting, like he’s missed having you like this, like he really can’t be a good boy and wait until you get back home before he eats you up and makes you his girl all over again, for the first time in years.
“not here,” you say breathlessly, gulping down the cry of pleasure that springs up your throat when he lets go of your clit for a moment, only to flick his thumb at the ravenous bud again. “not here, please. i can’t—”
“can’t what?” he asks, almost impatient. he bites at your ear, and you feel so fucking hot, so dizzy with pleasure, but you can’t. not in the back booth of a god damn café, where you could just be caught with MSbY’s newest outside hitter fitting his fingers into your starving little cunt.
you grab his wrist and tug, giving him the most serious look you can with all the stars in your eyes. “can’t be like this, shoyo. not here. please? wanna go home. want you in me. at home.”
his lips pull downwards into a disappointed pout, but he only presses his body closer to you, hot and heavy, his weight so new on you. “you promise t’ let me fuck you like this in your bed then?”
the fact that he can make you blush harder with a few words even as he’s got your pussy full of his fingers is astounding, really. but you feel your face heat up as you nod, telling him you promise. you need it more than him. you need him so, so fucking bad.
with a delighted laugh, shoyo pulls away, almost too quickly and you’re forced to stifle the needy whine you want to let out because you know he’ll be on you again in no time if you act like that. he pops his fingers into his mouth, sucking on your slick, eyes dulling with lust as he gets a taste of you. “let’s go, then. we can have this date later.”
“wh—what about our food?” you can’t even ask before he’s getting up and pulling you to your feet. he gives you a quick kiss, and your eyes widen when you taste yourself on him. god, it’s almost embarrassing.
“i’ll pay for it now, we’ll tell them we’re coming back in a bit.” he grins at you, taking you by the waist and pulling you up against him. “i can think of something else i’d like to eat right now.”
by the glint in his eyes and the lingering taste in your mouth, you know exactly what he means the instant he says it. and you can’t help but blush again. god, he’s such a fucking charmer. “mm, alright. let’s go then.”
“that’s my girl.”
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bleubrri · 1 year
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۪۫ ༄ؘ ˑ ᴛʜᴀᴛ’s ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪ ʟɪᴋᴇ — ʜᴀɪᴋʏᴜᴜ
ft daichi / tsukishima / ukai / ushijima
summary: haikyuu boys realising they have a thing
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༄ؘ ˑ SAWAMURA DAICHI — MARKING
running your teeth over the calloused tips of his fingers before taking them into your mouth is something daichi is used to. what he’s not used to is the feeling of your hand replacing the heat of your mouth, pumping him with languid strokes while you sink your teeth into his hip and bite. a strangled sort of noise leaves him, like he can’t decide whether to yelp or moan.
“what are you doing?”
“sorry.” you flash him a sheepish smile and press your lips over the reddened indents of your teeth. something swirls in his gut and daichi can practically feel his pupils dilate at the sight of the shallow imprints of your canines in his skin. claiming.
“no it—” he swallows thickly, broad chest heaving when you squeeze him at the base. your cheek is resting against his thigh, his aching length obscuring his view of your doe-eyed expression. “feels good.” he says, slipping a hand into your hair.
“really?” you look proud, eyes twinkling with delight as you trail your lips across his skin.
“mm, will you do it again, baby?”
this time, you can feel his dick twitching in your grasp when you nip at the sensitive flesh of his inner thigh. you’re jerking him with slickened strokes, your other hand caged between the mattress and digging crescents into his ass.
your mouth feels like it’s everywhere, and when he’s coming down from his high, spent and coated in a sheen of sweat, it looks like you have been: the corded muscle of his thighs is tender to the touch and covered in bruises. hues of raspberry and darkened plum sucked into his skin and teeth marks glistening with saliva that he wears like a badge of honor.
༄ؘ ˑ TSUKISHIMA KEI — HAIR PULLING
honestly, he has no idea what he’s doing. he’s never gone down on anyone before, but it’s easier than he thought, and you seem to be enjoying it. he’s hesitant at first, just exploring your folds, running his tongue along every part of you until he finds something that makes your breath hitch. you’re so.. receptive, muffled sounds of pleasure slipping from your lips and guiding him to focus in on what you like.
he makes a very interesting discovery when he curls his tongue inside you and you clench around him, a hand flying into his hair and gripping blonde locks between your fingers. he blinks, does it again, and you sing for him.
“fuck, tsukki, right there—” your nails are grazing his scalp as you tug him closer and he shivers, grips your hips and lets himself be shoved further into your cunt. his spine is tingling, nose pressed into your clit as he buries himself in your pussy and maps out your insides until your soaked walls are moulded to the shape of his tongue. he’s groaning into your heat when the flavour of you bursts across his tongue, lapping at your release and urging you to tug.
he mumbles something that gets lost in the lewd slurping between your legs, and when your hand slips away and you start to wriggle from his grasp, he snaps his head up and yanks your wrist back into his hair.
“harder.” he repeats it with so much fervour that all you can do is blink, slowly nodding in a lustful haze and guiding his mouth back to the apex of your thighs.
༄ؘ ˑ UKAI KEISHIN — BREEDING
the room is starting to get so hot that it’s making you lightheaded. ukai is hovering over you, pushing your knees further into your chest with each thrust as you desperately cling to his shoulders. the sticky tip of his cock hitting your g-spot has your nails reflexively dragging along the taut muscle of his back at a pressure that you both know will bloom angry red columns of scratches against his tan skin.
his cum has started to drip down the seam of your ass, sticky ropes of it beginning to coat his balls that press against you when he buries himself to the hilt and rolls his hips. it has your toes curling, your eyes hazy and pussy pulsing so hard you ache.
“‘m full keishi—hah!” you actually jolt beneath him when he presses a calloused thumb into the slick mess of your clit.
“one more.” he offers, “just one more, angel.” and it doesn’t take long either—all ukai has to do is picture you swollen with his seed, full tits and glowing features, and he’s releasing another load into your spent pussy with a drawn out string of expletives.
you’re reaching for him, navigating every hot curl of his tongue in a sloppy connection of your mouths while keishins hips fuck his cum back into you. he can feel your blissful smile against his lips, “that all ya wanted? hm? wanted me to fuck a baby into ya, sweetheart?”
༄ؘ ˑ USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI — LINGERIE
if he’s being completely honest he rarely pays attention to what you’re wearing before he fucks you—it’s coming off soon, so why think too hard about it? plus, he prefers you bare anyway.
but this, oh he likes this. and you can tell. you watch his adams apple bob when he swallows from his place seated on the edge of the mattress as you step out of the bathroom with a shy smile. you pad into the room, give him a little twirl as you present yourself to him. wakatoshi has to release the sheets clenched between his fists and remember to breathe.
“it’s cute, don’cha think?” you’re glimpsing at yourself in the mirror, adjusting a strap here, plucking at the fabric that sticks to you like second skin. he hums, feeling foolish for envying strips of lace and cotton.
wakatoshi reaches for your hip when you’re in his reach, pulls you to stand between his legs only for you to crawl into his lap. he can feel the heat of you, and if you notice the hardness between his legs you don’t comment on it. you’re nosing at his jaw, and he feels a groan bubbling at the back of his throat when you press your chest to his. nimble fingers tugging at the clasp between your shoulder blades pulls his focus from dragging his lips along the dips of your collarbone. when a large hand closes over yours and guides it away from your back, you fix him with a questioning look.
wakatoshi looks up at you through unfairly thick lashes, his mouth at your sternum pushing fire into your chest.
“keep it on, hm?”
☆ — reblogs / comments are super appreciated<3
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teamatsumu · 3 months
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compression. (sakusa kiyoomi x reader)
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summary: atsumu is the perfect person to feed your obsession with kiyoomi’s arms.
word count: 1172
warnings: swearing, very mildly suggestive (if you squint), detailed descriptions of kiyoomi’s arms in compression sleeves so it’s not for the faint hearted
tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi
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When you studied Marketing and Communications in university, you didn’t exactly anticipate that your future would include you managing a V League Division 1 sports team. But every day when you went into work, you thanked the gods above that this is where your career path had led you, because that meant you could ogle Sakusa Kiyoomi and his infamous compression sleeves all day.
Oftentimes you were certain Kiyoomi didn’t mean anything by them. For him, they were practical. They kept his arms taut and ready for the ball. They made his movements sharper. He received the ball better. He didn’t have to feel his bare skin on the dirty court. These were all reasons you had heard straight out of his mouth. When you heard him mention them so nonchalantly, it almost made you feel bad for the absolutely sinful- borderline deranged- thoughts you had in your head about the way those sleeves made his arms look.
You were well aware of the kind of thoughts Kiyoomi’s choice of athletic wear caused among his fans. To put it simply and bluntly, they went feral over it. There were whole Twitter accounts dedicated to just his arms, or his chest. And as someone who often managed social media profiles for some of the members, you got to see the most unhinged of these comments with your own two eyes. And you would be the first to (secretly) admit that you agreed with 90% of what was being said, because holy shit did those sleeves do something to you.
Most of the time during practice, you could feel your eyes drift back over to the man in question, wearing a black sports tee and those godforsaken sleeves, working up quite the set as they played set after set to prepare for their next game. As the hours passed, Kiyoomi would get more and more disheveled, curls becoming unruly enough that he would grab a towel, biceps flexing as he ran it over the nape of his neck and dipped into the collar of his shirt. Christ almighty.
You should’ve known that you would eventually get caught. But if it was anyone who would notice, you had expected it to be Meian or maybe Coach Foster. But the person who did bring it up to you happened to be the biggest nightmare in this scenario; Miya Atsumu.
“Ya should be a little less obvious ‘bout it.” He commented when he trudged over to the bench where you sat, grabbing a water bottle and beginning to chug. You tore your eyes from Kiyoomi who now had his back to you, the muscles under his shirt flexing with every movement. You raised an eyebrow at the blond, not yet correlating his words with your hidden obsession. He placed the bottle down and placed a hand on his hip, giving you a knowing smirk.
“A blind grandma could notice the way yer lookin’ at him.”
Your eyes widened and cheeks flamed when he nudged his head in Kiyoomi’s direction, and you knew you had been caught. You clenched your jaw hard.
“You say a single word-”
He threw his hands up as if in surrender, effectively silencing your threat in its tracks.
“I won’t, promise! But there is one thing…..”
You groaned loudly, throwing your head back. Of course, of fucking course he would blackmail you with this.
“What do you want?” You deadpanned, glaring at him and preparing for the worst.
Atsumu looked a bit affronted, as if the mere insinuation that he might want something was preposterous to him. You gave him another tired look, until he sighed and gave up, plopping down heavily on the bench next to you.
“A phone number. Ya know that cute girl who comes by once a month? From the Volleyball Association?”
“No.”
Atsumu’s mouth dropped like a child who just got slapped. “Hey c’mon! Ya didn’t even hear me out!”
You groaned and pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling a characteristic frontal headache begin to build, courtesy of Miya Atsumu. “I’m tired of setting you up with people, Tsumu! It won’t end well, as always-”
“I’ll get you a picture of Omi with his compression sleeves.”
You give him an unimpressed look. “I can get hundreds of those off the internet.”
“I’ll get you a picture of Omi with just his compression sleeves.”
That made you halt in your tracks. You searched Atsumu’s face for any form of mockery or lie, and you found none. Your eyebrows shot up when you realized he was being serious.
“In the locker room. I can get it for ya today.”
Oh my god. Instinctively, your eyes darted over to the man in question, who was talking to Hinata about something. It looked like volleyball tips since he had his arms before him in a receiving position, and Hinata was rapidly nodding to what he was saying.
“No.” You shook your head. “No, that’s wrong.”
“I’ll take a selfie with him, yeah? He will know there’s a photo. And I can send it in the groupchat.”
You look back at Atsumu, seriously contemplating his offer. He kept yapping, as per usual, thinking that the more he talked, the likelier it would be to convince you. And the bastard was right, it was working.
“No one else will bat an eye. We see each other in the lockers all the time. No big deal.”
You bit your lip in thought. The possibility of seeing Kiyoomi shirtless and only in compression sleeves had your pulse rising.
“And you just want her number in return?”
Atsumu nodded eagerly. You gave him a narrow-eyed glare.
“Send the picture. Then I will give you the number.”
His triumphant grin made it feel like he had already won. “Deal.”
That evening, when your phone pinged with a text notification, you nearly flew across the bed to grab it, opening the picture Atsumu sent in the groupchat with eager fingers and freezing as soon as you laid eyes on it.
Atsumu had held up his end of the bargain spectacularly.
He had taken the picture with Kiyoomi a little further in the background, so he could get the man’s full torso in it. He was facing slightly away from the camera, but his face was turned towards it, capturing the scowl between his eyebrows and the little pout of his mouth. He was gloriously shirtless, still a bit sweaty from practice, and he held his shirt in his hand, one arm flexed as he held it while the other was held carelessly by his side, compression sleeves hugging the cords of toned muscles just right.
There was another ping, pulling you out of your trance and making you realize just how dry your mouth had gotten. Atsumu had messaged you privately.
“My payment? ;)”
You rolled your eyes and sent him the number, immediately going back to the picture and starring it for future reference, a tiny smile quirking up the corner of your lip as you did so.
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miya-rin · 10 months
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imagine being the miya twins older sister who has had suna rintarou fully enamoured with your existence since he first met you at 15 years old.
he has tried to make many moves on you over the years to no avail; sneakily trying to place his arms around your shoulder before one of your brothers notice and throw the nearest object they can grab his way. not letting you carry anything while hes around, claiming how “youll never have to lift a finger again” if you give him a chance. hell, even dropping down to the floor to tie your shoelaces the second he realises the laces have come loose, taking his time to stand back up afterwards as he slowly rakes his eyes over your figure so he can fully take in every inch of you. every attempt of his to make you swoon for him is met with “sorry sweetheart, still not into minors” and a small ruffle of his hair which gives him a dopey smile. you would think he would start to back off eventually but to your dismay every rejection you have handed to him has just made his desire for you grow stronger - he takes your words as “try again when youre 18”
which is exactly what he does. on his 18th birthday his friends decide to throw him a massive party - being the twins chaperone you had to come along and when suna set his eyes on you, you knew there was no chance of you escaping his antics. you catch him glancing at you multiple times throughout the night before he gets pulled away by one of his guests, a disappointed look in his eyes every time he had to look away from you.
after a couple of hours you decide to step outside onto the balcony to catch some fresh air seeing as there was no sign of the party dying down anytime soon. you’re outside for maybe 5 minutes when you hear the door slide open, you already know who its going to be seeing as he has been trying to catch you alone all night, you turn around to finally face the boy and he looks as ecstatic as ever.
“happy birthday suna.” you swear you can see his soul leave his body the second those words leave your mouth, its not the first time youve said it to him tonight - youre not that cruel as to not wish the poor boy a happy birthday on his special day - but everything that comes out of your mouth looks like it sends him to heaven and back.
“thankyou yn, i appreciate you being here, but then again, i know you cant spend more that a week away from me because youre just so obsessed with me.”
“wow, am i that easy to read?” you chuckle along with him, noticing the way his gaze doesnt stray away from your face while you face forward, “so, how does it feel finally being legal?”
“incredible, it means you can finally give me a chance.” he doesnt miss the way you sigh at his words.
“suna we’v-“
“i know that we’ve been over this, but i don’t really think you mean it,” this gains an eye roll from you, “plus, my one wish when i blew out my candles was that you would give me a kiss.”
“really? well i guess your going to have to go without this year.”
“it was my birthday wish, youre not gonna deny me that are you?”
“yknow, if you tell your wish to someone it doesnt come true right?”
“yn…please,” his voice is barely above a whisper, he sounds desperate, “i have been waiting for three years, all i ask for is one kiss, just one.”
“i think youre forgetting that im 22 and you are freshly 18.”
“im still 18 though.”
“hm… you make a good point,” you see the way he perks up slightly at your evaluation, a hopeful look becoming more prominent in his eyes, “one kiss. let it be my official gift for the birthday boy.” you might have well as told him he had just one the lottery, anyone who walked past the sliding door would think you had due to the way his smile was so wide.
“thankyou” is all he can muster up before he is snaking his hand up your body and with a hand tangled up in your hair he leans down until his lips touch yours, you can feel the shit eating grin spread across his face as he gently moves his lips in sync with yours, pulling away slightly to whisper “best birthday ever” before leaning back in <3
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eggyrocks · 1 day
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bruised part four -> not slutty enough
m.list
♪ now playing: 2007 by you love her ♪
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fun facts ->
when yn won her match, iwaizumi cheered out loud, "that's my girl"
in high school, yn would do her best to go to all the aoba johsai volleyball games; oikawa and iwaizumi would go to as many of yn's matches as they could
oikawa made a powerpoint presentation about volleyball and it's rules and made yn sit through it, it was extremely thorough and extensive
he wanted yn to do the same for boxing, but she hardly did her regular homework, she was not about to do an entire other project for no good reason
her powerpoint was one slide: "hit the other person. try not to let the other person hit you back."
yn, hitoka, and alisa hit their record for mirror selfies at the club: 238
yn and bokuto had a thumb wrestling match and an arm wrestling match. alisa thought it was flirting. it was not. they were both dead serious about winning (yn won the thumb war, bokuto won the arm wrestling)
bonus!
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an: i honest to god don't really know anything about boxing im rlly just making shit up do NOT hold me to any realism lmafo
taglist: @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @publicbathroompanic @bedeater @rottingt1tz @rintarawr @deluluforcarlos55 @ahseyy @localgaytrainwreck @cherrypieyourface @baskin-robinhoods @polish-cereal @iheartamora @ferntv @eclecticeggknightpsychic @httpakkeiji @does-directions @pinkiscool @makkir0ll @cr4yolaas @k8nicole @cannibalsrider @bookworm-center @causenessus @frootloopscos @0moonii @ekeio @milkwithspicyicecubes (complete this form to be added)
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tvhsleb3ww · 14 days
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HUSBAND OIKAWA HCS OMAGHAUSHSHD
husb!oikawa who helps you do the taxes and puts his glasses on and brings a calculator only for him to get bored after 20 minutes and whines when you don't give him attention
husb!oikawa who is your plus one to any events your office is doing and your female coworkers gawking over him only for him to show off his ring before wrapping an arm around your waist, swiftly saying "i'm taken, ladies" with a smug smirk
husb!oikawa who panics and screams whenever he thinks he lost his wedding ring bc he can't wear it in games!
husb!oikawa who ties the ring to a necklace so he can wear it during games, he'll also give the ring a kiss before any serve
husb!oikawa who watches horror movies w you, expecting for you to hide your face in his chest from the jumpscares and he can act all tough and cool by protecting you from said jumpscares— only for him to be the one hiding in the crook of your neck when watching them
husb!oikawa who picks you up from the bar that you and your coworkers went to bc he doesn't trust anyone on returning you home when you're drunk as a sailor
husb!oikawa who makes hangover seaweed soup along with some hot chocolate when you wake up all lightheaded bc of the drinks you had and nags you for drinking too much
husb!oikawa who will reserve you a VIP seat for his games and will shamelessly kiss you in front of the whole crowd, he could also shamelessly make out w you too but that would earn him a smack
husb!oikawa who gets upset when you can't go with him to his overseas games because of your work, muttering a "you can be a housewife instead, yknow!! I'll be the source of income!!" which he got smacked for because you didn't work your ass for a degree just to be a housewife
husb!oikawa who'd act all tough and nonchalant when both of you have a fight and he's lying on the couch with crossed arms but in reality he's thinking about the fight and he hates getting into arguements with you
husb!oikawa who will beg you to listen to his explanation bc he doesn't wanna go to sleep with you being mad at him
husb!oikawa who just grins and wiggles his eyebrows at you whenever your parents start asking for grandchildren when you both come over to visit
husb!oikawa who will not show up to work if you're sick and will take care of you
husb!oikawa who whines when his mother and his older sister treats you like their own family to the point they forget about him (he's actually happy that the important women in his life get along)
husb!oikawa who has an ID photo of you in his wallet and has a polaroid of both of you on your wedding day in his clear phone case
husb!oikawa who comments on ALL your instagram posts and shares it on his story. he will also reply to every men in the comments section that dares to flirt with you
husb!oikawa who always has a hand on one of your boobs when he's sleeping because he says it's comfy! (he just wants to feel something soft)
husb!oikawa who spoils you rotten and sends bouquets to your office on a weekly basis
THATS ALL FOR NOW KEKE
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noosayog · 6 months
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002 get him back!
✧ wc: 4k
✧ warnings/content: miya osamu x fem!reader, sfw, fake dating au, angst to fluff,
✧ GUTS masterlist, regular masterlist
divider from @/cafekitsune
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It all started when Miya Atsumu said that you would never be able to find anyone who could put up with you. And you would have taken that with a grain of salt, if Miya Atsumu wasn't your ex who also happened to be a thorough asshole.
“Well you dated me didn’t you?!” 
“And we broke up, duh.” he says flippantly. 
You clam up at that. You know he’s just saying things. He doesn’t mean it and he’s a complete moron. But it’s been almost a year since the break-up and not a single man has even offered to buy you a drink. Are you going to have to resort to making a Hinge profile? 
“I don’t know why ya let him get to ya. He’s just a moron,” Osamu says. 
“You have to say that, he’s your brother,” you grumble. 
“True. But he is an idiot.” 
You plop your face heavily into the elbow resting on the counter and blow raspberries in one big exhale. 
“Don’t get yer spit all over where my customers eat.” 
You grunt, turning over to watch Osamu work behind the counter. 
“Do you think I’m unlovable?” you ask.
“Huh?” 
“There must be a reason no one’s asked me out on a date in the past 8 months, right?” 
Osamu sighs, dropping off a plate of food in front of you. “I’m not gonna answer that.” Then he turns with his back facing you to fiddle with something on the other side of the kitchen. 
“Why not?” 
He exhales through his nose, quiet, but you hear it. 
He doesn’t get the chance to answer because the door swings open to reveal Osamu’s twin. You jolt up, fixing your posture, self-conscious about letting Atsumu think his words are getting to you. 
And rightfully so because Atsumu acts like a shark that smells blood. His lips curl up into what he thinks is a smirk, but resembles much more of a snarl. 
“What’s up with ya,” he asks oh-so-innocently. 
You have no good response and feel your face heating up in embarrassment when Osamu swoops in. 
“Are ya gonna sit down or just block my door? ‘Cause I got people that actually pay to eat here.” 
Atsumu starts yelling something at Osamu but simmers down into the seat next to you and mumbles something to himself, no doubt some choice words for his brother. It gives you momentary reprieve from Atsumu’s provocation which is the last thing you need right now with your self-esteem in the dumps. 
The break is temporary though, because like a true creature with short-term memory and a propensity for being a prick, Atsumu circles back to the topic when he’s done eating. 
“So, found a guy to take you out?” 
“What makes you think I’d answer that question,” you bite back. Weak, but it’s all you have. 
“Hah,” he scoffs. “I knew it. Ya can’t find anyone.” 
You feel the irritation boiling like a witch’s cauldron inside of you, brewing a mix of resentment, mortification, and the tiniest streak of competitiveness. Atsumu not shutting up for the rest of the night is the final ingredient that makes your red hot concoction boil over. It goes a bit like this: 
“Tell me if ya want me to set ya up with someone from the team. Might be the only chance ya get at this rate,” he teases. 
“No thanks,” you hiss. “I’ll have you know that I’m dating Osamu, widely known as the better Miya.” You point smugly at Osamu whose back is currently to you both. 
“What!” Atsumu yells. “Osamu? And you?” 
With Osamu’s back to you, you can’t see his face, but all your fingers and toes are crossed that he’ll play along so that you don’t burn up in a gas of complete humiliation. 
When Osamu turns around, his eyes go to you first. They search yours for something – what, you don’t know. He apparently finds it because he blinks away and tells his brother to mind his own business, neither denying nor validating your claim. 
It might as well be confirmation though, because Atsumu squawks in indignation, sputtering his disbelief. Osamu continues to bicker with his brother, keeping him occupied enough to not realize that he was slowly being backed out of the restaurant. 
When Osamu slams the door on Atsumu and twists the lock in a dramaticized show of finality, Atsumu finally gives up, yelling a muffled “I’ll be back.” through the windows. You could laugh at the duo if Osamu didn’t turn around and fix you with a look, similar to that of a responsible older brother scolding a child. 
“Now yer turn. What was that about?”
“Osamu! You heard the way he was talking to me. I just can’t stand it!” 
“Have ya thought this through? How’s this supposed to end, huh? We break up and Atsumu goes back to making fun of ya?”
You open your mouth to beg, because it’s always worked with Osamu. He always gives in. But he’s not done, apparently. 
“‘Least ya could’ve done is ask me out, not use me to get through yer petty grudge with ‘Tsumu.” 
That shuts you up. When you look at Osamu, he’s not looking at you. His eyes are downcast, distracting himself by wiping up the counter. It’s so brief that you convince yourself that you imagined the hurt in his voice. 
“‘Samu…” 
“Forget it. I’ll do it, but ya better have it thought out because I’m not helping ya anymore than this.” 
It should be a win and any other time, you would wrap him up in a bear hug and shower him with thanks, but the defeated way Osamu concedes makes you solemnly finish your meal. It feels unfitting to say thank you. 
Your first stint as Osamu’s girlfriend comes in the form of a friend’s dinner party. Since the night you forced Osamu to be your boyfriend, you have been back at Onigiri Miya to hang out, but have painfully tiptoed around the topic. The thought has occurred to you that you and Osamu should agree upon a backstory, but you haven’t had the courage to breach the topic after the way Osamu reacted. 
He had just nodded when you asked him to attend this dinner party with you. And with that, he had dutifully picked you up at your apartment, perfectly on time. You had expected a stone-faced Osamu all night, but he had surprised you with a sweet smile, one that you’re used to being on the receiving end of. But it somehow feels different tonight. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s supposed to be smiling at you as your lover tonight. It was easy, the way he had held out his arm for you, no awkwardness in sight. 
At dinner, Osamu makes no move to let go of your hand, going as far as to intertwine your fingers under the table. When any one asks how the two of you began dating, he squeezes to tell you he’ll handle this. You’re grateful and you feel undeservingly spoiled as you watch him. He looks around the room, drifts his gaze back to you where his lips flicker upwards for the tiniest second, then looks back at the crowd to flash a mysterious, close-lipped smile. You can barely hear the dinner table go wild with jeers and Atsumu squawking as you gawk at Osamu’s act.
And it goes on. 
As you eat, he keeps your fingers clasped between his, laid on his lap. Atsumu gives you two the stink-eye, questioning why Osamu was eating with his left hand. You’re pretty sure your eyes are bulging out of your head at this point, because Osamu flushes. Osamu is blushing as he reluctantly lets go of your hand, making a show out of placing your hand back on your own lap and mumbling a heavily-accented apology at no one in particular. 
When dinner finally ends, the party migrates to the living room. Osamu doesn’t need to ask, perfectly picking your favorite after-dinner drink of choice as he chooses a beer for himself. He has once again claimed your hand in his. His grip is tight and when you try to slip your hand out to get some space, he holds tighter. 
You lean up to whisper in his ear, “Osamu, my hands are sweaty.” 
He leans down to hear you better, but stands back up when he registers your comment. He ignores you, only squeezing twice, as if telling you to behave for him. Your head spins; you’ve never dated like this before. 
Being with Atsumu was like living in a comically unrealistic sit-com, like you were constantly finding yourself in situations and having conversations that belong in a Tom and Jerry episode. He argued with you about everything, had an ego, and a temper. A particularly memorable moment was when he was still courting you, trying to convince you to date him by saying, “I’m six foot two.” 
“Dude, nice try,” you had said. 
But somehow, right now, with Osamu standing by your side and towering over you, you think that if this younger twin used that line on you right now, you’d fold in half for him. As if you wouldn’t with all the sweet nothings he’s lavished on you in this one night. 
He only lets you get away when you embarrassingly whisper to him that you need a bathroom break. 
“I’ll walk with ya.” 
“No!” you exclaim. You lower your voice when he stares at you. “It’s okay, ‘Samu. I’ll be right back, okay?” 
He backs off and you finally get away from his orbit. 
Finally alone, you barely pull yourself together. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, slapping your cheeks lightly to pry the strange daze from your eyes. You can’t get carried away here. Osamu is doing you a favor, one he isn’t fond of. You can’t get used to Osamu treating you like this. It’s borrowed time. 
You splash water onto your face, waiting until the chill seeps into your cheeks that have been painfully hot since Osamu picked you up tonight. 
As you exit the bathroom, Atsumu is there waiting for you in the hallway. 
“I’m onto ya,” he starts. 
You scoff, immediately putting your facade back on. It’s easy with Atsumu. “Oh please, Atsumu. You’re just jealous.” 
It doesn't phase Atsumu the way you hope. “Such a weak comeback. Sounds like something you’d say to disguise the fact that yer playin’ my brother.” Your brother is the one playing me.
“Whatever, Atsumu,” you say, walking away, taking Osamu’s advice to not let Atsumu get to you. 
“I bet ya forced my brother to pretend to be yer boyfriend. I know my brother and I know you. Just admit it.” He smirks. “It’s okay that no one wants to date ya. Nothin’ to be ashamed of.” 
The fact that even Atsumu, even all of his stupidity, sees right through you makes you feel hot. You’re grateful that you’ve already turned away from him because you could not take much more damage tonight. Nothing would end you in a worse way than Atsumu seeing that he could make you cry.  
Or maybe it’s the fact that Atsumu doesn’t, for one second, believe that someone like his brother could fall for someone like you. Maybe no one does. Maybe everyone here just thinks that you’re making this up and they’re playing along to help you save face. 
It takes everything in you to keep your steps and breathing even as you take the walk back to Osamu to compose yourself. 
It’s useless apparently because Osamu seems right through you. He immediately offers to take you to the balcony, explaining to everyone that you need some fresh air to cut through the alcohol you’ve had. 
His silent understanding makes it worse because it makes it clear that you’re an open book. The act you put on is completely pointless because no one believes you anyway. 
Osamu guides you to the balcony and shuts the door behind him, leaving the two of you alone. 
He joins you at the railing, draping his jacket over you. You know he knows that you want to avoid looking into his eyes, just as much as he knows you want to avoid having this conversation altogether. He sighs. 
“Why do ya let him get to you like that?” 
You look back at him, eyes widening at the tone he rarely takes with you. His eyes are fixed forward, arms still dutifully wrapped around you, ever the dedicated boyfriend. But as his gaze flickers to you momentarily, you catch the weight of his question in his eyes. 
“Who?” you mumble. 
But Osamu’s not in the mood. He stays silent, letting the question hang in the air. 
“I don’t know… I just…” 
“Are ya still in love with my brother?” 
“No,” you answer honestly. 
Osamu raises his brows. 
“No, but I’ve known him for so long now.” You feel the need to explain. “He just gets under my skin. You of all people should understand – he’s your brother! You guys fight all day long.” 
“He’s my brother. We shared a womb. We were born to fight.” Osamu sighs. “You, though... Why can’t ya just let it go?” 
“I don’t know! I just…” you trail off. 
He continues to stare at you, not even knowing the effect he has on you. His earnest gaze pulls the truth out from under your skin. 
“I wanna get him back,” you admit. 
Osamu’s eyes go dark at that statement. His expression shutters.
“Not like that!” you quickly amend. “Not like I want to get back with him, I mean like, his face just pisses me off!” 
“Huh?” 
“I just wanna punch him in the face but I don’t think anything would give me more satisfaction than proving him wrong you know. And honestly, Osamu, you-” 
“Ya think that I’m the perfect person to piss him off for ya. ‘Cause I’m his brother and there’s no one else who would get under his skin more than if I replaced him.” 
You hear the disappointment heavy in his intonation. 
“Osamu…” 
“Am I wrong?” 
He’s not wrong, but you feel an urge to tell him how he made you tingle at dinner. It was in the way he catered to your whims, covered for you, and held your hand in secret. It was in the way he, as your not-boyfriend, made you feel loved and desired much more so than any other boyfriend you’ve ever had before. 
But when you look at his side profile, face now turned away from you and hidden by the shadows of the night, it doesn’t feel right to say any of that. Even in your mind, it sounds like an excuse. Because the bottom line is that he’s right. Your original intentions had been to use Osamu. And the fact that you might have developed a slight crush on him in the process doesn’t make you feel any less shitty and certainly doesn’t make Osamu feel any less used. 
His question goes unanswered. 
– 
The rest of the week goes by uneventfully. Actually, it goes by too uneventfully because Osamu doesn’t call or text once. Not that you’ve made an effort, but after how that last conversation with Osamu ended, you can’t find the courage to face Osamu. 
It doesn’t make you miss him any less. 
You can’t recall if you used to miss Osamu like this, think about him and wish he’d reach out even if it’s only been a couple of days since you’ve last met. You only know that right now, you wish he’d make the first move because you can’t muster up the nerve to see him, even if it’s all you wanted. It also makes you realize that Osamu has been spoiling you long before that night and long before he agreed to be your fake boyfriend. The reason you never had to miss him is because he is always the one who makes the effort to call, text, bring you lunch, pick you up from work, drive you around. 
The realization only made you feel worse about yourself.
And after days of mulling over realization after realization, each making you guiltier and guiltier, you made your decision. 
That’s how you end up running to Osamu’s apartment, late on a Thursday evening. Without pausing to compose yourself, afraid you’ll lose your momentum, you knock. 
The door swings open to reveal a very tired-looking, very handsome Osamu. He has his cap off, but his hair is unruly, as if his fingers have just recently run through it. His eyes are slightly bloodshot and his t-shirt is wrinkled. The urge to rub your thumb over his eyelids and smooth your other hand over this shirt is a sudden one you shove down because Osamu’s opening his mouth. 
“Hey, what’cha doing here so late?” 
There’s a momentary disappointment that strikes your gut. He asks you so normally, as if he isn’t plagued with thoughts of avoiding you. As if the couple of days that have gone by without any interaction between the two of you isn’t even a thought that occupies headspace.
“Uh,” you stutter. 
“Actually,” he sighs and glances behind him. “Now’s not a good time. Can ya-” 
“I don’t care about Atsumu,” you cut him off. It sounds like he’s preparing a rejection. Or he just doesn’t want to talk. Neither of which are favorable outcomes, so you barrel through to say what you need to say. 
“I don’t care about what he thinks. Not anymore and definitely not that night. I was actually thinking about you the entire time and Atsumu, well, he’s just-”
“Just wait a minute, okay-” 
“He just gets under my nerves because of the shit he says and I know he’s just saying stuff to rile me up and I’m a hothead, okay? He gets me because we’re like the same person sometimes, but I’m not doing this to get back at him anymore. It’s actually your fault because-”
“I knew it!” a voice yells from behind Osamu. 
You crane your neck to see around Osamu and curse Osamu’s big frame for taking up the entire doorway and blocking your view of the apartment because there is the older twin, grinning widely and walking up to where you’re both standing.
You instantly feel the panic rise in your system. 
“Atsumu,” Osamu begins in a warning tone. 
Ignoring his brother, Atsumu continues on. “I knew it. I knew the two of ya couldn’t be dating just like that.” 
Your nervous system goes into overdrive. Even you know how this looks. 
You barged into Osamu’s place randomly at night and picked the time when Atsumu coincidentally is here as well.
Your wide eyes meet Osamu, willing him to believe that you didn’t come to make a scene for Atsumu’s viewing. You didn’t come to confess that you might have a crush on him with this exact timing so that Atsumu would fall for the act. 
When Osamu refuses to meet your eyes, it brings your attention back to Atsumu, who continues to gloat about his victory. 
Your face burns in mortification as you take slow steps away from the twins, making room for your getaway. As Atsumu gets closer and Osamu continues to avoid your gaze, your courage wanes and the last bit of pride you’re holding onto propels you to turn away instead of retorting as you always do. 
“Aww, really let my words get to ya, didn’t ya? I knew all along-” 
Before you can start running, Osamu grabs your arm and pulls you into the apartment, the other arm shoving Atsumu out. 
“Hey, ‘Samu!” 
“Shut the fuck up, ‘Tsumu. Now that my girlfriend’s here to spend the night, get out.” Osamu shuts the door in his face. 
Atsumu’s protests fall on deaf ears, the sound of Osamu referring to you as his girlfriend echoing in your mind. He had taken your side, chosen to take the course of action that would embarrass you to least despite not having confirmed what your intentions were. The thought fills you with hope. 
He pulls you further into the apartment, sitting you on the barstool. After situating you on the chair, he makes to step out of your personal space, but you lean forward, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him close. Your eyes start to sting in frustration that Osamu could somehow believe that this was all just another incident you had orchestrated to get back at his brother. This has all gotten so hopelessly messy. 
“Osamu,” you sniffle into his neck. “I didn’t come over here and say all that because I knew Atsumu was listening. I just-” missed you. 
He rubs soothing circles into your back, gently enough to make you want to cry more because you don’t deserve this but want it so badly. 
“You just…?” he prompts. 
The words won’t come out and your tears soak into his shirt. You want to tell him so badly that you’re not crying to garner his sympathy; you’re crying because you’re so angry with yourself. 
Osamu patiently strokes your back, letting you cry before quietly telling you, “Oh, baby. How long do ya think we’ve known each other? I know yer not the type to set up this whole complicated scenario just to show up my stupid brother. I believe ya.” 
His other arm is now holding your head to his neck, fingers running lightly across your scalp. “So can ya finish what you were about to say for me?” 
His words and his actions do what they always do to you. They fill you with so much hope that there’s no room to mistaken his intentions. They fill you with the courage to tell him. 
“Missed you,” you whisper. 
Finally, both of his arms wrap around your back to push you tight into his chest. He squeezes, gentle enough to keep you safe but firm enough to tell you he wants you there. It pulls the confession out of you. 
“And I like you so much, Osamu.” 
He chuckles lightly into your ear. You can feel the vibrations echo in his chest. When you squeeze back, he trails his arms down to your legs to guide them around his waist. He carries you with ease to the couch and sits you down to cry in his lap. 
You don’t know how long the two of you sit like that for, but when you finally calm down, you keep your arms wrapped around him and quietly ask, “why did you do all this for someone like me?” 
He stops stroking your hair. 
“What, ya don’t like it?” 
You pull away to protest, already too comfortable with him spoiling you again, only to find the corner of his lips quirked up in a smirk. 
He’s teasing, you realize.
You smack his face weakly and wind your arms back around him. 
You snuggle back into his neck but he’s the one who pulls you back this time. 
“Hey, seriously though,” he says. “Is this okay?” 
You nod shyly. 
“I need to hear it, sweetheart.” 
“I want it.” 
“Alright. C’mere then.” 
You oblige. 
“Can I tell ya a secret?” he murmurs into your neck. 
You nod. 
“There isn’t a man out there who’d do all that for someone he doesn’t love, ya know that?” 
It makes you flustered, but much of what Osamu does does that to you. His tenderness makes you want to try harder to meet him in the middle. 
“Can I do something?” you ask, taking a leap. Your face is incredibly hot and your heart is beating embarrassingly loudly against his. “Is it okay if I kiss you?” 
It’s easy when he responds, “You can do anything ya want to me.” 
You intend for it to be an innocent peck, your form of an apology. But he holds the back of your neck, the other arm wrapped almost all the way around your torso and doesn’t let go until you’re panting against his open mouth. 
He’s nonchalant when he shrugs. 
“You can do anything ya want but I’ll be doing the same from now on.”
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satorisoup · 1 month
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PUT YOUR HEAD ON MY SHOULDER .ᐟ
ft. hq boys and their acts of intimacy <3
cw : fluff + sfw. timeskip! setting. mentions of bathing together.
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ᰔ BOKUTO + BUBBLE BATHS
even though he may be a little too burly to fit comfortably with you in the tub, and it takes a couple minutes to get situated without getting squashed, bokuto loves to bathe with you. he enjoys running the warm water, not too hot, not too cold, but just right. he’ll mix in a nice scented soap that makes bubbles rise high in the bathtub, lavender and citrus you can smell in the mist of your bathroom. he’ll hold your hands under the water, and maybe splash you a couple times, but he shows he cares with the delicate touches he leaves on your skin as he washes away the worries of the world with a sponge of suds. he’ll lather your hair in your favorite shampoo, careful to not snag any knots, and rinse the strands with such gentleness you can barely even feel it. and when you’re all done, he’ll wrap you in a warm towel, snug and clean while he kisses your damp cheeks with a huge smile.
ᰔ KITA + FLOWERS
kita vowed that when he started dating you, he would never allow a week to go by without your vase being filled with a new bouquet. he’ll come home to you, new flowers wrapped in the palm of his hands as he kisses you hello. he loves the the way you get excited, eyes twinkling at the delicate petals and floral scent as you thank him over and over. he’ll watch you with a fond smile as you carefully take them in your grasp, setting them into a pretty vase that makes your home light up with color. he won’t let you see the flowers die, always keeping one for himself so he knows when it’s time to replace them. he’ll always tell you the meaning of the bouquet he got, or leave a pretty note tied around the stems. he buys a different type of flower every time, because he knows you’ll enjoy the variety. he adores you just as much as you adore the beautiful flowers.
ᰔ ATSUMU + MASSAGING YOU
atsumu has talented hands from years of playing volleyball, and he puts them to good use when you complain that you’re sore. he’ll knead at the expanse of your skin, smiling to himself as you sigh in content. he’ll rub away the tiredness of your muscles, gentle but calculated touches everywhere you could need. he likes to hold your hands in his, massaging from your fingers all the way up to your arms, and back down to your hands again. he’ll lay your sock-clad feet in his lap, squeezing and rubbing the ache away with his fingers. he’ll sit you on his lap, massaging the discomfort of your cramping shoulders until your melting into his touch. he won’t be rough, making sure his touch is tender and soft while he works the knots out. he kindly kisses your skin when he’s done, and feels that it’s a mission accomplished when you tell him you feel much better.
ᰔ OSAMU + FEEDING YOU
as long as osamu is around, you will always have a full plate. he’s always in the kitchen, a small and sacred book of his ma’s recipes standing proud on an easel. you don’t remember the last time you’ve heard your stomach grumble, because he’s already sliding a bowl your way. he loves how domestic it feels, to use the recipes he once enjoyed as a kid and serve them to you on a silver platter. he likes that you’re his personal taste tester, giving him a thumbs up with full cheeks as you chew. when your sick, he’ll insist on feeding you, hot spoon of soup between his fingers, his hand cusped at the bottom to catch any that falls. he’ll wake you up in the early mornings to tell you the food is ready, and sometimes surprise you with breakfast in bed. he’ll kiss your chubbed cheeks as you munch on one of his special onigiris, and ask you if you want another until your belly is full.
ᰔ AKAASHI + READING TO YOU
akaashi enjoys reading to you every chance he gets. a book held in the palms of his hands, licking his thumb every time he turns the page. he’ll have you curled up to his side, or sat between his legs, as he reads aloud the words imprinted on the page. he’ll add emotion to his voice at the important parts, and he’ll glance at your face to see your reaction. his voice is soft and soothing as he reads, occasionally moving his hand towards your hair to gently caress the top of your head. when it’s nighttime, he reads to you almost as if it’s a bedtime story, bedside lamp warming the room with it’s light as he flips through the pages. chapter after chapter he brings you closer to sleep, pages like a lullaby of prompts and fiction. he’ll pause when he notices your reactions have gone silent, breathing evened out as you lulled into a quiet slumber. he’ll smile as he puts a bookmark between the spine, already anticipating tomorrow when he can continue to read you the next chapter.
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byunbqbes · 1 year
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HQ BOYS MEETING A BEAUTIFUL FAN
⟶ ft. kuroo, suna, ushijima
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♡ kuroo
"kuroo? kuroo testurou?"
kuroo whips around, ready to apologise to whoever that the nekoma volleyball team is currently rushing to catch their bus back to school, when he's suddenly hit with...
kuroo's jaw drops.
he doesn't even know how to describe what he's seeing. all he knows is that he's currently staring at the girl of his dreams.
"um, could i take a video with you?" you give him a tentative grin, before rocking back on your heels, adding, "and if it's okay, could you wish my friend to get well soon?"
kuroo immediately closes his mouth, aware that he looks completely stupid in front of the cutest girl he's ever laid eyes on. he gazes at you with his iconic half-lidded eyes, hoping he sounds more confident than the way his heart is clenching in his chest, "oh? a video? and what's your friend's name?"
"misaki! she's your biggest fan but she couldn't be here because she's sick today." kuroo nods empathetically at your explanation, internally swooning because you're going to such lengths for your sick friend? that is so cute.
"sure! a video's nothing! hang on - kenma, help us take a video!"
kenma turns around, about to protest how they have no more time to entertain fangirls when he sees kuroo slinging an arm around you. kuroo shoots kenma a pleading look and kenma finds himself sighing because, of course, kuroo is absolute putty for pretty girls.
when coach nekomata calls for kuroo and kenma, kuroo frowns as he removes his arm around your waist, before he gets an idea.
he leans in closer to you, pressing something into your hands, smirking, "return this to me in school."
before you can even open your mouth and protest, kuroo's gone.
you look down in your hands and see his nekoma jacket crumpling between your fingers as you giggle to yourself.
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♡ suna
suna is normally cool as a cucumber, eyes glued to his phone nonchalantly whenever a group of fangirls approach his teammates and gush animatedly.
normally.
he thinks he's being slick when he sneaks a few glances your way, heart clenching in his chest as he sees you move closer - or rather sees your friends drag you towards...him?
suna quickly assesses his situation and scans the area around him - no, the miya twins were not around him. this could only mean one thing - you're headed straight in his direction.
before he has the time to really freak out about an angel of a girl approaching him, you're already getting pushed towards him, with your friends' soft snickers in the background. and you're beaming up at him softly.
he feels his heart in his throat when he hears you repeat, gesturing to your friend who's holding up a polaroid camera, "are you okay to take a photo with me?"
okay? fuck. he is more than okay.
suna blinks, regaining a little composure. straightening his jersey, suna nods at you silently and wraps an arm around your shoulder, hoping you don't hear the way his heart is hammering thunderously against his chest.
holy shit. how do you smell amazing too? what was that - vanilla or something floral?
as suna tries to figure out what exactly is the intoxicating scent wafting around him, the photo is over, a little too fast might he add. he feels you pulling away from him and his arm drops back to his sides.
he knows he sounds uncharacteristically simp-y and even cringes a little at himself, but he knows he will forever regret it if he didn't ask you.
"do you wanna have another photo? with the polaroid camera, i mean."
suna may or may not have left his number behind the second polaroid.
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♡ ushijima
"hi!"
ushijima feels a gentle tap on his shoulder right after he hears you. he turns around slowly and -
there is no way you are real.
"hello." he greets, looking stoic in contrast to the way he's internally panicking.
ushijima feels his grip tighten on the volleyball he's holding, taking in the way your eyes shine under the harsh gym lights. he listens to you ramble something about being a fan of his and a reporter as his eyes continue to glaze over your angelic figure, only snapping out of it when he feels kageyama nudging his side.
"so ermmm, what do you do in your free time?" you repeat helpfully, prodding a pen against your notepad.
"uhm." ushijima feels his face heating up. "i take care of my plants."
you're immediately gasping, "no way! i'm a plant mom too!"
"oh, uhhh," ushijima swallows, growing impossibly redder at the revelation of your shared hobby, "what do you grow?"
"roses!"
of course. that suits you, he thinks, pretty flowers for a pretty girl.
before ushijima knows it, he's spluttering nervously, "there's...actually a nursery around here..."
you look up from your notepad, eyes crinkling excitedly as you listen to ushijima explain how to get there. but after a couple of failed descriptions, ushijima scratches his head, "i-if you're not too busy afterwards, i could take you there?"
your eyes widen at the insinuation, before you nod shyly and give ushijima a small smile, which he finds himself melting at.
did ushijima just score himself a date? maybe.
is he complaining? oh hell no.
🤍 reblogs are very appreciated!
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