makimakimaki

[makimakimaki]

( MIYA ATSUMU X FEM!READER )

he never thought about it that much, but he came to the realization that day, when he saw you playing with his nephews, being as sweet as ever with a tiara on your head. that’s when he realized. that’s when the future hit him.

content— fluff, timeskip!atsumu, baby fever, short os.

author’s note— i have some dad!atsumu drafts that i haven’t finished, but i swear i will because he’s so cute and i love him so much.

You had been Atsumu’s girlfriend for 4 years now, so it was normal that you were now a special guest in his family gatherings.

Atsumu’s family was very welcoming to you, they were sweet and talkative, well, at least most of them. Atsumu also made sure you were always comfortable and that you felt welcomed.

Now supposedly went to get some drinks, so he started to wonder why were you taking so long. Did his aunt’s stopped you to talk about her third divorce? Was his grandma trying to give you money? Was his mom was showing you his baby pics, again?

“Ma, have ya seen y/n?” he asked.

“Ah, I think yer nephews were with her, look for her in their room, sweetie.”

Atsumu did just that, and as he walked closer to the playroom, he heard louder voices and giggles. He opened the door and looked inside.

There you were, sitting on the floor next to his 5 little nephews, Aiko, Yuna, Hoshiko (4, 5, 5), Ryu and Rin (6, 7).

You had a tiara on your head and were pretending to drink a cup of tea as the two older girls did your hair.

You looked so beautiful.

“Would you like a biscuit?” Aiko said, walking with a plate of fake food.

“Oh, but of course.” you smiled, taking one of the toy food and pretending to take a bite of it, letting out a small sigh of satisfaction as if you just had the best food ever “This is the best biscuit I’ve ever had.”

The little girl giggled as she went back to her ‘kitchen’ to ‘cook’ some more. Yuna and Hoshiko finished placing small butterfly hairclips on your hair, so they gave you a mirror for you to look at your hair.

“Oh my! I have the best hairdressers ever.” you smiled as you looked at them “Are those butterflies?”

“Yeah! My mommy bought them for me.” Hoshiko answered.

“Isn’t your mommy the best?” the little girl nodded and you patted her head.

“I can’t get my helmet on!” Rin complained, so you got next to him.

“Let me help you, sweetheart, you got it the wrong way.” you chuckled, helping Rin.

Atsumu stood there in silence, leaning in the doorframe; all of you were so concentrated in the game that didn’t even noticed he was there.

He was just looking at you and every single one of your movements, the more tender and love-filled look escaping his eyes.

He could see his life like this. Getting back from his trainings and going to the room to meet you, his gorgeous —soon— wife, and his children.

He could see your home with toys on the ground, a baby seat on the table, baby clothes on the washing machine and baby bottles on the sink.

You would be such a great mom, and he knew that, he’d seen you work with children magically, as if you were meant for that, your sweet voice and looks capturing every little one. The image in front of him being a proof of that.

He wanted that, he wanted that life, but only if it was with you.

His lips slowly curled up “Whatcha doin’?” he asked as he entered the room and closed the door.

Your head raised to look at him, a small sheepish smile on your lips “Hello, we’re playing…”

“I can see that.” he chuckled “I was lookin’ fer ya, thought ya were just gonna go fer some drinks?”

“They asked me to play, and you know I couldn’t say no.”

“I know.” he sighed, a soft smile on his lips.

“Chumu!” Yuna looked at him, frowning “She’s our princess, you can’t take her away!”

“You’re trying to take away our princess!?” Ryu immediately got in front of you, raising a wooden sword.

“What!? No, no! I would never take away yer princess. I swear.” he chuckled, raising his hands in innocence.

“Stop!” Hoshiko said, getting in between them “Yuna, Ryu, don’t you know? y/n is Chumu’s girlfriend…” she whispered to them, as if they were being all secretive.

Yuna and Ryu gasped, exchanging looks “He’s the prince!” they whispered, and Hoshiko confirmed their concerns with a nod.

You felt your heart beating faster and Atsumu was melting in the spot. Yes, you were his princess. His princess.

“But how’s Chumu gonna be the prince if we have no more crowns left?” Rin interfered.

“I can teach you how to do paper crowns.” you said, interrupting their little debate.

“Paper crowns?” Aiko, that was now sitting on your lap, looked up at you.

“Yep! A paper crown for the prince.” you smiled, glancing at Atsumu.

Oh, he definitely was putting a damn ring on your finger and making you a mommy.

#smashes head through the wall #head comes out the outher side . just smahes througj 15cm thick concrete with my forehead #prince chumu… sat here looking so pretty and kind prince atsumu helloooo

[makimakimaki]

—HAIKYU!! various ; how deep is your love?

a/n ; [gn!reader] kinda fem implied in kawa's and kuroo's 😓 do yall like the new layout?? c: suggestive if you squint extremely hard in kuroo's .. i honestly dont know if im writing this timeskip or pre timeskip its 3am 😣

— characters : oikawa, osamu, tsukishima, hinata, sakusa, kuroo

part 2 ! ♡ akaashi, kenma, kita, semi, kageyama, suna

jade vine !

tooru oikawa ; SWEET / I THOUGHT YOU WANTED TO DANCE - tyler the creator, brent faiyaz, fana huez

has 'i love you' wars and he MUST win or he will tackle you (affectionate)

takes the BEST candid photos of you and puts so much love into the following insta post. has you as his wallpaper too (please match with him) (he'd also have a highlight just w pics of you😞)

please NEVER do that 'wipe their kiss off' trend because he will actually not talk to you for DAYS and gets all sulky until you apologize. (he will get all cocky all over again)

core memory from his teamates. bae was explaining to his teamates about new volley nerd talk blablabla and they notice his nails painted in a faint pink (for a fun date night, thinking no one will notice)

issei BURSTS out laughing and instantly points it out. now seijoh4 NEVER lets him live it down

always the first person to notice when you use a new shampoo or perfume.

cuddling, (you being the little spoon╰(*´︶`*)╯♡) you can feel his breath hitch when his lips reach your neck

before you could ask why he's stopped inching closer he's already manages to whisper out, "did you start using a new shampoo?" yes. yes you have

do his skincare with him please ! he loves it. he loves when he places you on the bathroom counter and you wrap your legs around his waist, he loves when you're so gentle with the toner, he loves when you graze your delicate fingers over his beautiful long lashes, he loves when you make sure you don't cut him when snipping the face mask so it fits a little more snug, EVERYTHING. (he is sunoo coded)

osamu miya ; good looking - suki waterhouse

loves your tummy SO much. doesn't care about shape or form, he just likes the feeling that you're being fed. squish. or pat. he loves it. have i mentioned he loves your tummy?

when his dad leave the twins at home its always osamu at the stove, please keep atsumu in a 5 mile radius AWAY from the kitchen

SPOON FEEDS YOU. please i need him. on days you're too tired to move a muscle, days where you're too sick to open your eyes, be prepared to feel his hand on the back of your head and one below your chin ready to feed you!! once you've sat yourself up he feeds you so gently... osamu miya i need you

when you're really tired from work, he will send meals to your workplace. if you work at home and sees you barely able to keep an eye open, you will see his hand under a spoon of your favourite meal. he's not the best with it, but he's trying 🥹 he means it with all his heart and hearing you say the food is really warm in your stomach, his heart feels warm too (о´∀`о)

my mans is SNATCHED. slide your hands around his waist, poke it a little do WHATEVER. your hands have probably been on his waist more than his hands on yours.

i think his core is pretty well built. have we seen it in the anime or manga? maybe. but from what i've seen, his physique is very 😳 (a tad bit better than his brother's i fear)

cooking together!!! different recipes each date, basking in each other's presence. its always so fun and the results are always almost flawless!

at one-point y'all were making cupcakes, it was literally osamu baking them and you decorated it.

AND OBVIOUSLY the basic, he would routinely give you handmade onigiri, in different shapes, flavours and whatever you like ✨

kei tsukishima ; the only exception - paramore

kinda scowls at you when you put your hands under his shirt but secretly really loves it so when you slither your hands away he instantly places your hands back and make sure your hands STAY there. bonus points if you have warm body temperature. he likes the feeling of your warm hands on his slightly colder body.

his wardrobe has drastically evolved from muted tones to slightly lighter and vibrant clothing ever since you insisted on getting matching stuff!!

WILL say he is not a jewellery person but collects, keeps and takes care of all the little trinkets you give him DAILY. he has a little sticker on the edge of one of his books and a little moon sticker on the end piece of his sports glasses

he also defineitely has really thick curly blond lashes. you say they are one of his charming points but he gets all flustered. when you insist to put clear mascara on them, he doesn't really look like he has a problem with it 🥹

what could his ahh possibly be listening to with those headphones on so often (real)

sends you playlists at an insane hour that go for insane amounts of time. but i KNOW his taste is immaculate. every song always gives you goosebumps or makes your heart tighten

please do a spotify blend with him (he was gonna ask you, but you beat him to it)(he was shy)

oh AND the shared playlists actually are insane!! so much good music all at once?? crazy yall 😭😭 (wave to earth, cody fry, the smiths, daniel caesar, rex orange county)

shoyo hinata ; intro (end of the world) - ariana grande

honestly, out of all these men HINATA SHOYO is the BEST candidate for taking care of a person except himself. has no limits in his stamina, and will only listen to you when you ask him maybe its time for a break. does he overwork? not necessarily. does he work too hard? yes, in a positive way. please remind him to eat because he will forget sometimes

he will NEVER admit he likes being the little spoon LMAO he finds being vunerable in your arms a tad bit silly, and it bugs him. after a long week of practice games and insisting kageyama and yachi to practice with him the instant he falls on the bed, he finds himself melting into your touch. your voice gets a little more buttery and he loves it, falling asleep instantly

hes probably a hard sleeper too 😭 he wont wake up till he feels your cold hands on his face or the sunbeams from the curtain literally bleed into the sheets and steal its colour

PLEASE STROKE HIS HAIR. he loves it. he absolutely loves it. again, melts into your touch like ice-cream. his heart will feel tight and he has a lil' blush 🥹 whats even more priceless is his lips slightly agape after hes fallen asleep... how can you NOT love this man

one of the only boys on this list who will LET you put little pink bows or style his hair in braids and clips. (if you're imagining timeskip hinata, you have attempted to put a little bow around his bicep but you underestimated its size and it BROKE. gosh what an experience)

DANCES WITH YOU EVERYWHERE!!! omg i love him so much. doesn't care if you have two left feet, he just loves the feeling in his heart when he sees your smile as he spins you around. in the rain, in big empty rooms, in the kitchen, anywhere.

loves the idea of promise rings or little trinkets that ensure he gets to have you forever!!

kiyoomi sakusa ; washing machine - VANISHING GIRL, rosemary fairweather

PLEASE braid this man's hair. 😞 he pretends to despise it and thinks you don't notice when he literally melts under your touch. he feels safe 'nd comfy and hopes it lasts forever, when your hand retracts he has a lil' pout

notices when you've been wearing your favourite hood for a couple days straight, has a little scowl under his mask and throws one of his jackets at you. he only gives you the wind-breakers that are 100% cotton or the ones he just knows you like.

he uses this as an excuse to share his clothes with you. its safe to assume its his love language under-cover!

HE IS SO ASS WITH PDA all you get is him giving you hand sanitizer before eating meals or snacks. its only you though, don't tell him that.

BUT sometimes when he feels like it, he will take your hand and put it HIS pocket so "your hands are always sheltered from germs" now what type of bs is THAT. (you love this bs)

can be snarky. sometimes he gets the slightest eenie meenie miniest bit cocky, and its very noticable. has the ability to be a little bit of a tease but not in a pestering way more like a little smartass way LMAO.

tetsuro kuroo ; never lose me - flo milli

always has his hand in the back pocket of your pants. that was it. thank you for coming to my ted talk. (to feel your butt? no idea.)

tutor sessions always unbearable. either you're too busy staring at his biceps, or you're sighing that he's made a little pop quiz for you!! tell him it sucks please

if he notices it gets a bit too much or overwhelming for you over the week or before study dates, insists to take you out instead (what a gentleman!! kuroo tetsuro come into my life)

extremely consistent with routine. good morning and good night text DAILY no matter how busy he is, he WILL find a way (i like to think its his way or the high way #kingofprovocation /hj). very good at getting the things he wants in a non-manipulative way but with simply logic and brains

yeah as captain hes no. #1 but he is also no. #1 waist CLUTCHER. his hands are always on you somehow even in the slightest way, but never pervy. he just likes having his hands on you! bonus points if you have hip dips, he loves it so much. he finds it as a perfect spot to place his hands on (btw ppl w hipdips yall are BEAUTIFUL!! 🥹)

i feel as he has a possessive side as well. small, but more noticable compared to someone else. will not hesitate to stare someone (or recite chemistry nerd stuff 🙁) down for looking at you a little too long :3

when he sees you post or sees himself in your instagram or tiktok dumps, his heart tightens a bit in the best way possible. when you mention him in the post he only reacts with a heart but he's actually going insane

#sobbbbb so cute and silly NEED THEMMMM

[makimakimaki]

OIKAWA TOORU || happy birthday

in which oikawa got drunk and he forgot what his girlfriend looks like

word count : 749

tags : suggestive (?) , fluff , female reader , she/her pronouns, timeskip!oikawa, alcohol mentions, alcohol consumption

a/n : i have… 100 plus followers omg guys— thank u sm! (Is it because of the last post i made) i hope i get to interact with you guys more IF ONLY IK HOW TO RESPOND IN A SIDE BLOG ahhh <3 im suppose d to publish this on his birthday but i got lazy— happy birthday oikawa!

Oikawa couldn’t remember when was the last time he got really drunk but it feels like a very long time now that this time it feels like it was his first. The alcohol surging through his veins, anything from his point of view is blurry, the light of the party seems dimming and his body feels heavy with every step he takes.

Ah! Right, it’s his birthday and his highschool volleyball teammates planned to celebrate this special occasion is by dragging him to the club. It was fun, at first at least but now, there’s nothing more he wants but to go home… he swears he’s forgetting something—

“Hey baby,” a hand grabbed his arm and Oikawa suddenly jolted up awake, head is still in pain but he made an effort to look at the blurry woman in front of him. “You look like you’ve had your fun, c’mon, let’s get you home—“

“Don’t— don’t touch me.” He croaks out, prying his arm away from this unfamiliar (somehow familliar) woman in front of him, he looked away from her, looking at everything but her. “I have a girlfriend.” Oikawa prides in himself that he’s not a cheater like everybody paints him to be (absolutely loving the surprise look sent to his way when they find out they’re six years together.) and the bruenette would rather die if he lost the woman he loves with all his heart. The woman distanced herself, hand coming up to a mock defense, he turned his head to look at her and could see her red painted lips turned to a cheeky smile as she tilts her head to the side. “Oh yeah?” She mused. “What does your girlfriend looks like?”

Almost like an instinct, he reached out for his phone and opened the small device in his hand, the picture of a beautiful woman wearing silk pajamas, hair is all a mess and she’s eating messily of a cup noodle, looking innocently at the camera came to his view. God he loves this picture of his love so much that even in his drunken state a warm honest smile made it’s way to his lips.

“Here!” He boasted, pushing the phone to the woman to make her look at the lockscreen. “That’s—“ he stops, burping because of the alcohol before continuing; “that’s my girl!”

“I—“ she started, he could painstakingly make out her appearance slowly. “I told you to delete that picture, Tooru!”

Oikawa Tooru blinks. Again and again. Until his view became clearer slowly. Then it clicks, his breath knocked out of his chest to see his beautiful girlfriend wearing the dress he brought out for her, looking absolutely gorgeous and he swears this is the best birthday gift he could ever ask for.

“My baby.” He cooed, tucking back his phone in the pocket of his jeans and his hands finds her waist, pulling her close to him and immediately (Name) wraps her arm around his neck, a beaming smile sent to his way and his day suddenly ten times more special. He pressed his lips to her soft ones. “My one and only.” Another kiss to her nose. “My love of my life.” Another kiss to her jaw and (Name) couldn’t help but giggle at his affections.

Oikawa hummed, burrying his head to the crook of her neck, swaying slowly at the music with her. “I’m so happy you’re here with me.” He murmurs, wanting nothing more but to be in her arm in this moment. “I’m such a lucky man—“ he whines, feeling dramatic because of the alcohol but (Name) knows better, her man is always dramatic every single day. “you have no idea.”

“I love you too.” (Name) responds, a giddy smile om her lips and before Oikawa could even respond to her, he feels like throwing up that he pulls away, afraid staining her dress because he didn’t drank responsibly and whines. “I just wanna make out with you in the middle of the dance floor, baby.”

“I know, but how about a better idea and finish whatever plan you have for us back home?” (Name) suggested with a teasing smirk and Oikawa loves her and her ideas.

Somewhere in the corner of the club…

The three looked at eachother, Makki sent a cheeky look at the two and Matsukawa grinned.

“Oikawa’s getting it tonight—“

“Alright!” Iwaizumi slammed down his drink and point at the two with a knowing look. “How about you two get your asses out there and get a girlfriend, hm?”

#sweet and cute sob

[makimakimaki]

Counting Stars

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x gn!reader

Warning: Reader has lighter skin / faint freckles, so not as inclusive as I usually try to be!

WC: 471

A/N: So this is a tad bit more self indulgent than usual ahaha don't hate me. I know this scenario is as old as time itself but I couldn't resist. PS kiss requests are coming later this week, I already have a few written up :3

The movie is over, but neither you nor Tetsurou can be bothered to extricate yourselves from your tangle of limbs. Throughout the course of the movie, he had pulled you closer and tucked his legs around yours. Now that it's over, he turns you so that he's nose to nose with you, his back to the still-glowing tv screen. The light reflects on your face, and his eyes trace it in silence for a few moments.

"Hey," He says in a whisper, "Did you know that you have these really faint freckles?" His fingertips lightly skim your cheeks, making you shiver.

"I mean, I've looked in a mirror a time or two," You chuckle softly.

"Funny," He breathes back with a huff of his own laughter. "But I don't think I've ever noticed them before." His brow puckers slightly, and he studies your face more closely.

Slowly, he begins to dot his fingertip in the barest touches across your cheek. It tickles, and you crinkle your nose. "What are you doing?"

"Counting them," He murmurs, "And you just made me lose track." A smile slides across his lips, and you sigh. "Hold still," He prompts, the fingertips of one hand steadying your face as he dots across it again with the other. "One, two, three..." He continues counting, traveling across the bridge of your nose to your right cheek. "Twenty-three." He finishes with a quick peck to his final dot. "You have twenty-three freckles on your face." He announces seriously.

"Oh?" You hum, unable to keep the smile from your own face.

He nods, his hand still steadying your face. "And..." He traces out a small pattern on your left cheek. "Those ones look like Cassiopeia." His fingers drift across your nose. "And there's Orion's Belt."

"Isn't that one just three stars in a row?" You quirk an eyebrow.

"Yes," He says, "And it's right here on your face." He traces it again, and you can't help the soft laughter that slips out.

"You're such a nerd," You poke him in the chest.

"I prefer, 'you have such a well-rounded base of knowledge.'" He laughs, nudging his nose against yours.

"Too many words," You murmur, feeling yourself being lulled closer to sleep by his gentle ministrations. His expression is unbearably soft, and you can't resist surging forward to press a kiss to his lips. He returns it, fingers sliding into your hair as he deepens the kiss.

"I guess I'll accept that," He says under his breath after he pulls away, his thumb skimming your cheek. You let yourself linger somewhere between asleep and awake, the pathways of his fingertips across your skin still tingling pleasantly.

"Oh, twenty-four," He says suddenly, breaking the silence. "I missed one, right here." He presses his lips above your right eyebrow to the final freckle.

#bangs head against wall till my skull cracks open #grinssss NERDDDD wowwwww

[makimakimaki]

['sex' by the 1975]

⤷ atsumu miya x f!reader; best friends, references to infidelity, pining, sexual content (w.c 3.1k)

“it’s not sex.” he insists between mouthfuls. a drop of mustard dots the corner of his mouth. you stare incredulously.

“are you joking?” you ask. atsumu just shrugs his shoulder, intense focus saved for the burger held in his hands. practically inhaling a third of it in one bite as he brings it up to his mouth.

“‘s not like it’s the real thing.” he bobs his head side to side in consideration of the sandwich before he’s grabbing at the fries in your lap, “can i haf some.”

the carton lays practically emptied from his pilfering next to your abandoned chicken nuggets. three remaining, absent of consumption in favor of a bewildered stare at the man seated beside you on his bed. 

“fingering is penetration, that’s sex.” you say simply.

atsumu raises a brow, “yer gyno having sex with ya?”

“that’s different.” you level a stare at him, one that’s serious and fierce and that communicates everything you mean in the single look alone. he meets it with one of his own, familiarity and uncommunicated languages all the rage between the two of you. “she doesn't make me cum.”

“neither does yer boyfriend.” he shrugs, taking another large bite of his burger as you screech in offense. your hand meets his bicep with a sharp slap and he grabs at it in pain. “ow! ya were the one that told me that!”

”some people take a minute to figure it out.”

”sounds like its taking a lot longer than a minute.” he mutters to himself. “look, its a lost cause. just dump the guy before it gets anywhere. ya haven’t had sex yet, he’s got a weird face, dude cant tell a fake orgasm from a real one. why are ya fighting me on this?”

“fingering is sex! your body count would be zero if fingering didnt count.” you insist loudly and atsumu rolls his eyes. he crumples the foil his burger came in and throws it across the room, cheering loudly when it makes it into the bin in the corner of his room. 

his room is much the same since the last time you visited. photos of passing years sit framed on the desk— an image of he and osamu with their arms wrapped around each other, taken right before atsumu left for the olympics. another of you and atsumu placed right next to it, you leaning over his shoulder and him laughing loudly, beer bottles held deftly in hands and drunken flushes decorating your faces. momentos of faded high school memories, interspersed with flashes of young adult realities. 

its more sophisticated than it once was. minimal in furniture, and of the items that decorate the room they’re the perfect reflection of a twenty-four year old athlete. his closet is lined with designer gifted clothes, but his desk chair remains stacked with undone laundry, the basics of his everyday life found in the plush cushion more than on the hangers. the jacket you’re currently wearing was stolen from the top of that pile just after delivering a pointed comment at how cold he keeps his apartment. 

its a far cry from the bedroom he used to share with his brother, the one you remember at the dusk of previous memories. it was cramped and contained, lines between the two boys constantly blurred and you having to learn rather quickly where to step and when. but even now, as he lives on his own in a city a bit further from you than you’re comfortable with, not much has changed. you still sit on the left side of the bed and he takes the right; you still eat burgers on his bed and steal his jackets, and he throws papers into trash bins and insists he could’ve made it professional were he not already in volleyball; you still moan and complain about the woes of daily life and he still listens to them endlessly, interjecting the same amount of dumb enthusiasm as you know him to have. 

there is still much in common that remains between he and you. trusted familiarity, endless comfort; a bubble that remains whole and precious, unaltered despite life dealing its hand to you. you’re convinced there’s no one else in the world that gets you quite like atsumu does. 

there’s also no one in the world that works you up, quite like atsumu does.

atsumu stands from the bed, retrieving your own trash from your lap and chucking the rest of it in the bin. lithe and lean, he moves with a body that is sculpted to perfection as he turns off the overhead light and instead turns on the desk lamp, submerging the room in the lowly warmth of its glow. days are shorter now and the sun has just made it return home, leaving you to the dim luster of a pleasant comfort. 

its quiet, intimate. words entirely inappropriate to describe the weekly hangout with your best friend of seven years. 

pushing thoughts aside, you fight to remember what the whole point of the conversation was about. a boyfriend, right. your boyfriend.

right. 

“and he does not have a weird face, he’s just… interesting. it’s what i liked about him.” 

“revolting. i’m this close to spiking a ball in his face. it would be plastic surgery for the dud.”

“you’re being mean.” you tell him. 

atsumu scoffs loudly, “and yer being stupid! yer the one that’s complaining to me about it. yer really gonna date a guy who can’t figure it out when he fingers ya? what happens when ya actually have sex with the bozo?”

“it takes practice. i don’t blame him for not being able to get me there on the first try. i see him later tonight so i’ll talk to him about it. it’s hard to figure out how to turn someone on and then try to, you know, get me there—“

“woahwoahwoah—timeout.” atsumu hold his hands perpendicular to one another, forming a ‘t’. his eyebrows practically touch the hairline of his bleached hair. “he doesn't even turn you on?”

“not everyone is good at everything, like you.” you mean it sarcastically, but it comes out short and meek. it’s embarrassing to have to cover for the misgivings of your current beau, but there’s an obligation to. a point to make, especially to the man in front of you. 

you’ve met the ex-girlfriends, heard their feedback for the man before you. an average of six out of ten in boyfriend material, but he knocks the ball out of the park when it comes to the bed—or so you’ve heard. 

(aya, the most recent girl to have made her grand exit, followed you on instagram and asked you to not be a stranger. whether that was so she could have her in for atsumu or because she really wanted to be friends is still up for debate, but the gesture ended with a message in your directs.

[9:17] it sucks, he’ll always be more in love with volleyball than any girl he could ever date. and even if he didn’t, you’re his number two anyway, so there’s really no way i can win.

[9:20] i’m super sorry, aya. if it’s any consolation, i really liked you two together. he’s just slow, i’m sure you guys will figure it out.

[9:20] you were our biggest argument. 

[9:20] so no, i don’t think we will.

[9:21] i’ll miss that dick tho, best orgasm of my life. rip

there’s not much you can say to a message like that. there’s not much you can say to the surge of smugness that courses through you either, so you don’t.

you don’t tell atsumu about it.)

“alright. sit up then.”

his voice startles you. “what?” 

suddenly, he stands before the side of the bed, looming horribly tall over you as he peers down at you. he shoves his hands in the pockets of his gray sweatpants, the fabric unintentionally pulling down ever so slightly and the waistband of his black boxers peeking out in greeting. the light of the desklamp casts a halo over his silhouette.

your attention is drawn upward and it’s hard to deny the familiar pang that tends to strike through you every so often in times like this. the simple effect of being near him. atsumu is unfairly handsome, and while it’s hard to put a name to the feeling that pulses inside of you when the light catches him just right or when a smile is even more charming than usual, the ache is always the same.

it’s fleeting, you convince yourself. something you refuse to settle on for too long. contexts and suppressed hopes pushed to the back of your mind along with the other unspoken things.

“come on.” he gestures two fingers upward. “i’ll show ya how easy it is to turn a girl on.”

its curiosity that has you standing up on your knees on the comforter, nothing more. its the wonder of how exactly your best friend makes his move on women that leads you to be so close to him, chests practically touching. breaths intertwining as atsumu stares a kind of serious into you that you’ve never been in the receiving end of before.

“im gonna touch ya.” his voice is low and your heart beats erratically in your chest. you nod. 

lifting his right hand, cold fingertips run across the heated skin on the back of your arm. digits trailing upward as he paints a pathway up. and it’s nothing—just his hand on your arm, nothing new or different, and yet your breath hitches. innocent in theory, but something solidifies on atsumu’s face, the familiar signs of determination playing out on his face. it’s less babied now, more formed and angular with the growings of an adult man, but it’s the same focus in his eye, the same clench in his jaw. 

his fingers trail up then down, repeating a circular figure on your skin. the sounds of your mingling breaths the only whispers between you two. your eyes dart down to his lips, but his stay fixed on you. studying every flicker of your eye, every inhale. 

his fingers break from their pattern and trails down to your wrist, then your palm, then your own fingers. tracing them, dancing with them, intertwining them slightly only to pull them away. 

“we should stop.” you whisper after a moment of his caress.

“why?” he asks and a quick glance to his gaze reveals that he knows why. he’s just making you spell it out.

it’s unfortunate that the only reason you want to stop is out of principle, and not because you truly have any reservations about any of this. your boyfriend of three months all but an annoying buzz in your ear.

“this feels like cheating.” you tell him simply. atsumu cocks his head to the side, charming smirk pulling across his lips. 

“i’m touching yer arm. this isn’t anything, yet.”

“you shouldn’t be touching my arm like this.”

“why? cause it’s working, right?” his voice drops to a low rumble, words vibrating through you and shooting straight to your core. “see how easy it is?”

“that means this is cheating then, right?” the question is posed, but it’s obvious it’s more to convince yourself than him. because all that he’s done is touch your arm and you’ve felt the bubbling of that unnamed something heat within you. it feels the exact same as it did seven years ago when you met him; feels identical to the moment four years ago when a drunken night led to a drunken kiss that was forgotten about the next day; feels the exact same whenever he looks at you like he does now, like you're open for the taking. a pointedly very different response to the dread that comes when getting intimate with your actual boyfriend. 

and while atsumu may be doing this to prove a point, to rub it in your face that he was right and you were wrong, you don’t trust that you’ll be able to not carry this with you. to not want more than you should. 

“nah.” he says simply, knowingly. “if i kiss you then it’s a problem.”

“oh, so kissing is cheating, but fingering isn’t?”

“can you shuddup? always runnin’ that damn mouth.” he renders you quiet. 

satisfied with your silence, he brings his left hand to cup your jaw, thumb and index finger grasping your chin and tilting your head to the left, leaving your neck exposed. he leans in, nose tracing a line up the column of your neck until he meets the juncture between that and your jaw. it’s a simple movement, and yet it feels like eternity in his hands. his breath hits steadily against the expanse of your cheek as he whispers into your ear.  “does he touch ya like this?” 

the gasp you release is guttural.

the arm previously fiddling with your fingers quickly wraps around your waist, pulling you flush to him. you have no choice but to embrace him with your own arms, hands cupping the back of his neck to steady yourself. it’s impulse to run them down the expanse of his back, to feel the muscles that he’s worked so hard for, but you resist. keeping yourself locked on his neck and nothing more, as though you being pliant to his ministrations wasn’t jeopardizing enough.  

his thumb inches upward, stroking the corner of your lips sweetly. “does he take his time with ya? cause i would.” 

its then that his lips meet the skin of your neck, tingles erupting from the connection. all of its effects causing an inadvertent clench within you. “it’s not about shoving fingers inside and just doing it. its about doing it the way you like it. and i’d make ya tell me how ya like it. since yer always runnin’ that damn mouth, might as well put it to good use.”

its all-encompassing, the traitorous burn between your thighs. and yet, this is the unnamed something, all that you’ve pushed away.

“astumu—” you whine and its in that exhale of yours that he releases a sigh of his own. one that almost sounds restrained.

“tell me to stop.” he says quickly, lips mouthing against your neck as he utters the words. 

and you don’t want him to. not really. the desire is feverish, unlike anything you’ve felt before and to end this is to end the sweetness of something you’ve yet to taste. if it were to be with anyone you would want it to be with him.

you could take the teasing, the “i-told-you-so” from osamu, the obliteration of a friendship for the uncertain promise of something more. but it isn’t right. not like this. if mountains were to come to a head, you want it to happen because they were gravitated to each other, not because the earth told them to do so.

“stop.” you tell him, and it’s like a hot brand that strikes him. he’s immediately pushing away from, untangling his limbs from you and stepping back into the swath of darkness in the room. 

his breaths are deep and heavy, that much you can tell from the distance. shuttering exhales that wrack his chest. you can hardly make out his irises, only see the intensity of dark pupils. it’s hard to believe that he could be feeling the way you do, just from the simple touch alone. a quick glance down to his grey sweatpants proves otherwise. 

a moment, then two, pass by. ragged breaths filling the distance, words spoken in the silent language you’re both fluent in. 

“does this mean i’m easy then?” you ask quietly, an effort to ease the wall of tension. 

“no.” he shakes his head gently, “just means i know ya.”

he knows what he means to say, the words and all of their yearning practically knocking against his teeth to escape. it’s the long haul, almost a decade long game of carefully advanced chess pieces to get to this point. blocked, temporarily, by the appearance of the new guy. a boyfriend of yours that atsumu met once, a guy he barely attempted to learn the name of. for reasons of his own, their knowing pertinent only to him. held deeply within the urges of being seen, the desires of having you wholly, completely.

there are plenty of other ways that he could do this—probably be more eloquent about it. admit pushed away feelings when you’re not in the midst of ranting about how your boyfriend just can’t get you off. 

but the tension irks him. thick enough to cut a knife, always following the two of you in the long held stares and closeness in which you two gravitate towards each other. the answer to your boyfriend problem is standing right in front of you. he knows what he wants you to do when you see your boyfriend later tonight. 

there are certain shoes that atsumu is convinced he could fill better than your boyfriend.

your face is flushed, and the desk lamp makes you look angelic under the lowlights, and you're wearing his jacket like you always do in a way that makes him believe it was always meant for you. and he’s not entirely convinced, even without the cloud of lust that hangs over him, that you don’t want this just as bad as he does.

osamu once said that atsumu wouldn’t admit his feelings to you even if they hit him over the head. they’re here, now. settling in the distance between you two, bobbing in the capsizing waves of want. they ache to be spoken, knock repeatedly against his gritted teeth. 

but a choice is made in that moment, with you looking at him as wild as you are. atsumu will admit to the selfish and prideful part of himself, but this—you— aren’t something to just take. the taste of your neck, the feel of your body against him, it must be given to him, earned. not because he needs to make a petty point, but because you want him to. 

he cares for you too much to be reckless in how he plays his cards. even if osamu will bust his balls for it later.

you have a boyfriend. and he can’t force you to change that. it wouldn’t be right, he’s given you the taste, he hopes it will be enough.

“like that.” he says after a moment, pushing down his pride and long held desires for you. “tell him ya like it like that.”

a/n: why is it that whenever i stop writing for kuroo, the one i always want to write for is atsumu. also big ups for my beta who entertains me and proofreads me at all hours of the day. i love you sanju!!!!!!

#the way u write is jaw dropping #in the insanest best way ofc WOWWWWW #rattles the bar of my enclosure. wow

[makimakimaki]

"Were you an ugly baby?"

Tooru's face screws up in horror where his head is resting in your lap, and a pained squawk is punched out of him in the wake of your question.

"What? No!" He pulls himself upright in your bed, slipping from your grasp and twisting around to face you. "Why would you ever think that?"

It's funny seeing him--a grown man, 186cm tall, 83kg of corded muscle and olympically trained physique--so upset over such a silly question. It only makes you want to rile him up more.

You shrug. "I don't know, you just kind of give off 'ugly baby' vibes."

Tooru's jaw hangs, his eyes wide.

"I was a beautiful baby, I'll have you know." He pokes your shoulder indignantly with a prominent pout tugging his bottom lip forward. "Ask anyone!"

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing.

"I could always call Iwa, I'm sure he's got some baby photos he could send me," you say, nodding a little to yourself, watching carefully to see his reaction to your suggestion.

Tooru moans. "He'll send you the worst ones! That's not fair."

Your boyfriend throws himself back down across your lap petulantly, landing heavy across your outstretched legs.

"You're so mean to me," he gripes, burying his face against your tummy. You resume running your fingers through the impossibly soft strands of his hair, unable to keep yourself from giggling a little.

Tooru nuzzles against the material of your t-shirt, still sulking even as his arms wind around your waist to hold you close.

"Why would you even ask me such a terrible, cruel question?" he mutters grumpily.

You sigh a little, watching the way the ends of his hair curl around your knuckles as they slip through your gentle touch. "I was just thinking how unfair it would be if you've been this pretty your whole life."

Tooru goes quiet, his shoulders easing slack. He noses against your tummy and hums, but this time the sound is pleased. His arms tighten around you, and you feel so comfortable under his weight, his familiar touch, the way his breath seeps into the material of your t-shirt and warms through to your skin.

He presses a kiss against you as your nails rake gently against his scalp, a palpable shiver running down his spine.

He breathes out a long, appreciative sigh. "Well, you could have just said that."

"Where's the fun in that?" you ask him cheekily, and he harrumphs in response.

He peels himself away from you, returning to his original position with his head resting atop your thighs, staring up towards you with a dozy, heavy-lidded gaze. He reaches to cup your cheek in his hand, his fingertips soft against your skin.

A beat of silence passes between you, but it's comfortable.

"You know," he says, though his voice is quieter now, a little deeper too, "I could give you one."

You blink, taken aback by his words.

His touch trails down to your mouth, tracing his thumb against your bottom lip. He pushes gently against it, until your lips have no choice but to part--not that you have the presence of mind to resist it with the sudden rush to your head his offer has caused.

He smiles, his warm eyes watching the way your lips wrap around his finger instinctively before flickering back up to meet your own.

"I may have been a cute baby, but ours will be even cuter."

#sob so sweet and silly #AAAA ahahahaamwhahahaa AAAAAAA

[makimakimaki]

Cats

Featuring: Kuroo, Akaashi, Suna, Kita, Atsumu, Osamu, Iwaizumi, Oikawa…

Part 2

Kuroo Tetsurō adamantly declares he’s a dog person. Complains about cat hair on his suit and stinky litter boxes to no end. But every night it’s the same routine. After dinner you two sit on the couch watching whatever with your cat nestled perfectly against his broad chest, his long fingers rubbing velvety ears, purring away. Little kisses to the top of your cat’s head. Disturb the fur baby and you get a withering glare from your man.

Akaashi Keiji uses your cat as his personal therapist. Especially when the mangaka he’s supposed to be working with fails to turn in their work on time. From long nights editing, your man and your cat have irrevocably bonded. You swear he’s become nocturnal, but glad he has a companion for those all nighters. The cat tree was even moved to right beside his desk. If he’s not careful, your cat will drink his coffee.

Had Suna Rinartō not become a professional volleyball player, you swear he should have become a photographer. His two favorite models? You and your cat. If he’s ever home alone expect to be bombarded with adorable sleeping kitty pics. You can’t even be mad when you see his phone gallery has more pictures of your cat than you. His wallpaper is you and your fur baby curled up together for a nap.

Kita Shinsuke smiles when your cat welcomes him home every day from the rice fields. A little chirp and head butt before prancing away. He also spoils her rotten, sneaking her bits of meat from your dinner. You’d scold him for it but because of their dynamic your cat now listens to him more often than you. Kitty doesn’t dare misbehave when he’s home. And you can’t hate his gentle smile while petting your cat either.

Miya Atsumu tries and fails to be indifferent to your fur baby. However, he gets insanely jealous if your cat is in your lap when he wants attention. Your man will even sulk if you refuse to move the sleeping fur baby. He came up with the idea of buying more cat toys to distract your cat with so he can cuddle you more. Now your cat expects toys from him every time he comes back from an away game trip. He gets swatted if he comes back empty handed.

Even after a long day Miya Osamu insists on making your cat’s food. None of that canned or bagged nonsense. At times you think your cat dines better than you do. Your fur baby even gets first dibs on any leftovers from Onigiri Miya. He insists it’s because a cat’s diet is different than a humans’ and they can only have particular things. If your cat ever turns up their nose at anything he makes, he gets extremely offended.

You’re used to Iwaizumi Hajime and your cat having daily staring competitions. After coming home from a long day working with athletes, your fur baby meets him at the door. His intense stare matching your cat’s feline one both unblinking. It isn’t until your cat yawns and begins grooming that he sighs with relief and passes by. You can’t help but chuckle at your beefy man silently asking permission from your cat to enter his own home.

Oikawa Tōru treats your cat like a peer. Ranting about the woes of being famous as if only your kitty could ever relate. He acknowledges the little meows as part of a serious conversation. Interrupt that communication and receive a scathing look. He will scoop your cat up and sashay from the room venting about how peasants could never understand their plight. You can’t help but laugh when he pretends your cat’s opinion means more than yours.

#so cute and silly

[makimakimaki]

THEIR REACTION TO YOU DRESSING UP

gn!reader | suggestive, mild swearing.

matsukawa, atsumu, hinata, kuroo, suna, osamu, sakusa, iwaizumi, tsukishima

MATSUKAWA’s sprawled on the couch as he waits for you to show him the new outfit you bought. you had excitedly texted him before coming home, hiding the contents of your bag as you ran to change. it’s been a few minutes when he teasingly calls out, “you okay in there, babe? need help?” “no, actually i don’t, issei,” you reply, walking in. issei does a double take, mouth dropping a little. “goddamn.” the speed he gets up is almost comical. you do a slow turn, smoothing out the fabric that seems to hug you in the most perfect way. “i don’t know when i’m gonna wear this, but it’s really nice, right?” “really fuckin' nice,” he agrees, grinning. “respectfully and in love with you, i humbly ask, do you want to kiss and or make out with me right now?”

ATSUMU freezes when you walk into the bedroom. you do a quick spin and smile. “what do you think?” his eyes are wide, gaze fixated on you. “am i dead? are you an angel here to take me away?” he finally asks. you snort and make your way over, reaching to fix the collar of his shirt. “i’m gonna take that as a ‘you look good, babe,’ then.” “just good? baby, i think i’m sweating. maybe cryin’ a little,” he continues, half-joking. “‘tsumu—” atsumu shakes his head. “uh-uh, don’t say my name, i might explode.” you laugh at your boyfriend, face warm from his praise; his own flustered state keeps him from noticing yours. he shakes his head again, as if to get out of a haze. “you know what, let’s go. yeah, let’s go now before i keep you all t’myself. we’re gonna knock ‘em dead.”

HINATA spits out his drink and chokes a little. “oh my–oh my, god, sorry, i—” “shoyo?” you speed over, concerned but also trying not to laugh. “are you okay?” “huh? yeah? i’m so fine,” he says unconvincingly. his face is flushed when he looks at you, whether from the choking, embarrassment, or your outfit, you’re not too sure. then, as if he wasn’t choking a few seconds earlier, he starts showering you in compliments. “anyways, you look great, babe. like, like it really screams 'you,' you know? i bet everyone’s gonna be jealous of me.” “oh really? of you?” shoyo tilts his head, as if you asked a silly question. “well, yeah? 'cause you look this good and i get to date you.”

KUROO almost drops his keys walking through the front door. “tetsu, you’re back early.” “god, please don’t tell me i forgot about a super important event tonight.” he sounds both panicked and in awe, mind in shambles at the sight of you. you open your mouth to speak, but tetsuro's faster. “wait, don’t tell me,”—he paces toward you—“before i die, i want you to know you look incredible, and i’ll gladly be your poorly-dressed accessory for the night.” there’s a joking strain to his voice, and he sniffs before pressing his cheek to your head. “tetsu.” you laugh and pat his back. “there’s nothing happening, i just bought a new outfit and wanted to try it on.” he lets out a relieved noise between a sigh and groan then moves to look at you, now able to fully appreciate the sight. “thank god. i’m going to count that as the second win of the night then, 'cause seriously, you look so good right now.”

SUNA snakes his arm around your waist and kisses your temple. “hi, babe.” “rin! when did you get here?” “a couple of minutes ago. beelined for you after ‘tsumu shoved a drink in my hand.” you laugh and he smiles before finally registering what you’re wearing. he takes a sip from his drink at the same time his eyes scan over the new look. “this what you bought on saturday?” “hm? yeah, it’s really nice, right?” rin looks between you and his drink. “if i didn’t have manners, i would’ve thrown this glass and kissed you.” amused, you jokingly hit his stomach. “why can’t you compliment me like a normal person?” rin takes no offense, instead maneuvering so he can hold his drink while wrapping his other arm around you. he squeezes you, grinning when you yelp. “‘one, cause you look hot, and two, where’s the fun in that?”

OSAMU lets out a low whistle as you walk into the living room, eyes scanning you up and down. he gets up from the couch, and places his hands on your hips. “y’sure you have to go out tonight?” “'samu.” he laughs at your pointed look and puts his hands up in surrender. “i’m kidding, hon. you look stunning, though.” rolling your eyes, you thank him. “c’mon, i’m gonna be late if we don’t go now.” you walk to the door, but osamu thinks back to the weather forecast for the evening. “you aren’t bringin’ a jacket?” “hm? nah, we’re gonna be inside.” putting on your shoes, you respond without looking, and are surprised by the weight that suddenly covers your shoulders. you know osamu's favourite jacket from anywhere, and you let him shift it to cover you. he leans over to kiss your temple and mumbles in your ear, “now you’ll be warm and everyone will remember we’re dating.”

SAKUSA’s fingers slip from his cuff button again, earning a huff and frown from him. “‘omi, are you ready?” “yeah, can you just help me w—” he turns to the sound of your voice and pauses. the new outfit you told him about makes his heart skip a beat, and he almost forgets about his own suit predicament. “with what? oh, the button?” you make your way over to help, kiyoomi staring the entire time. “there ya go.” “you look incredible,” is the first thing he says instead of thank you. it catches you off-guard, “huh? oh. i—thank you. you look very handsome.” there’s a beat of silence as kiyomi weighs the pros and cons of going out or staying home. you have to stop yourself from laughing when he asks with a straight face, “completely related, am i allowed to be mean if anyone tries to flirt with you?”

IWAIZUMI looks up when he hears the changing room door open. you’re fixing the waist of your outfit, and don’t notice the way his eyes widen. he whispers under his breath, “holy fuck.” “haji, do you think it’s too much for the dinner? i know it’s ‘just your old teammates’ but, like, i want to look good,” you explain. his gaze softens and he clears his throat before standing. “no, it’s perfect. you look…you look perfect.” you smile at him and it’s all he can do to stop himself from covering his face and groaning. “oikawa’s going to say something about you looking better than me, and i won’t even be able to disagree.” the sound of your laughter fills the air and hajime huffs a laugh at himself. “well, we better get something just as good for you then.”

TSUKISHIMA’s not great with compliments, and he always wants to kick himself in the ass for it when it comes to you. you look at him standing behind you in the mirror. “i think this is the one. what do you think, kei?” biting his lip, he looks to the side and clears his throat. “it looks good.” he doesn’t have to look to feel you staring at him. “you sure? you don’t think it’s missing something?” kei takes a second to try thinking of a response, then he glances at your wary expression and lets out a breath. “no, i promise. you look great, and this is the best thing you could have chosen.” you smile at yourself, and his gaze softens a fraction before he’s back to being tsukishima—“you ready? because we’re going to be late if we keep standing here, and the group chat’s about to blow up our phones.”

🏷️ | @devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @dimslover @kuroaka @vampyrkookie @sunaslay @the-midnightskies @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @the-b-u-n-n-y @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @scill-a

#tsum sob 😭😭😭😭😭 #tsumu tetsu rin the silliests .. the most sillys ever

[makimakimaki]

ATSUMU, BOKUTO, HINATA, oikawa, tendou, KUROO, aran, kenma, KAGEYAMA, SUNA, hoshiumi, kunimi, SUGAWARA

#this kills me

[makimakimaki]

“Do ya ever wish ya never met me?”

His question came suddenly, the weight cutting through the tv show you’d been watching. It was quiet for a Saturday, Osamu had gone shopping with their mother for the day and in the stillness of the air, something must have stirred Atsumu’s brain into conjuring a story that wasn’t true.

Without looking from the documentary, you pop a few more pieces of popcorn into your mouth, “constantly. Why?” To amuse him, you throw a few kernels at his head, grinning to yourself when he grumbles and bats them away in your peripheral.

“I’m being serious.”

“I am, too.”

“Oh my god-“

“What has gotten into you?” You say, chuckling softly to hide your concern. “Neither of us has said a word for 45 minutes, I haven’t even made one joke about your brows- so what gives with the existential crisis and the pouting?”

He says nothing, and when you finally cast him a look, he looks… sad. He’s playing with the callouses adorning his hand, a nervous trait he’s developed, only dropping them in his lap when you swat it away with a “stop picking.”

“Where is this coming from, ‘Tsumu?” You ask finally, not finding enjoyment in his turmoil anymore. You pause the tv and place the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table, turning to face him and your heart squeezes at the sight.

He’s pouting, literally pouting his bottom lip out like a toddler, his eyes a little glassy and his nose flaring as he tries to keep any tears at bay. “‘Tsumu, you can tell me anything… what’s going on?” You reach out to lay your hand on his hair, fingers gently carding the blond locks soothingly; he’d always found comfort in it, and just by the look on his face, you knew he needed it.

“You know you can tell me anything, yeah?”

Atsumu bites his nail while his head angles into your touch, all before letting out a shaky sigh and casting you a look. “I just… I know ‘m not the most… coddl-y person in the world, so…”

“Well yeah, but it’s what makes you, you. You’re not coddl-y, you laugh when kids fall on their face, you steal my snacks after I tell you no, and I’m convinced you still don’t know my birthday- and it’s you. You’re Atsumu.”

“But don’t you think you deserve… better?”

“We’re not married, miya, if I wanted you gone, I’d be gone.”

He pouts and shuffled closer to you to rest his head on your shoulder, whining softly, “I just… think you should be with friends who make you feel good… like Aran, or… Suna, or Osamu-“

“Oh my god, are you dying?” You snicker, your arms wrapping around him to squeeze him lovingly, relieved it’s not anything too serious. “Atsumu, you really don’t have to worry about these things. I’m friends with ‘Samu, yes, he’s one of my best friends. But that has not much to do with you. You’re two different people, I don’t lump you both together, dude. And you do know I love Rintaro and Aran, sure, but they have their own ways of showing that they appreciate me. Just like you.” You hook a lock of hair behind his ear, “in your own ridiculous, freakish way.”

Still pouting, he curls up in your side and slowly closes his eyes, your fingers still carding his hair. “Don’t call me dude,” he grumbles, and you roll your eyes to try and hide the fact that his newly found affection and dropping of the topic is just one of those ways he shows you his appreciation.

“Youre a mean spirited, self absorbed, disturbed little weirdo,” you hum, giving his side a little squeeze, which he squawks and jerks away from. “But for whatever reason I decide to keep you around, you are still my best friend.”

The air is calmed around you both, the frown on his face finally being turned into a smile as he stays settled into your side. You know better to expect a thank you, but you know for a fact that this is how he shows his appreciation- he trusts you. He knows he can curl into your side and take a nap, or rest his head on your shoulder when he’s sad, he can reach for your hand when he’s stressed, all without fear of judgement. You want to tease him, you do, but for now, you let him indulge in the closeness and relish in your promise to be there for him no matter what.

“You need to take a shower,” he yawns out. “Ya fuckin’ reek.”

“Thanks, fuckface.”

It’s what best friends are for.

[makimakimaki]

it’s valentine’s day, you clown

cw: 1.2k wc, blank blogs don't interact, something something your volleyball superstar boyfriend tooru flies home to surprise you only to pass out on your bed, this is my first ever hq fic and it's a complete coincidence that it's about him please be nice and don't make any assumptions

thank you @moondust-lore for reading this 🤍

His breathing stays regular and quiet as you crawl onto the mattress. Your bed is still somehow comically small and far from ideal to accomodate that unique ensemble of long limbs, sturdy muscles and swooping brown hair. Yet his sleep is serene, features relaxed that fill your chest with warmth that almost prompts your fingers to run through smooth locks. How have they not been rendered thicker or dry by the sea salt yet?

You’re careful as you snuggle closer to his broad back, not really wanting to wake him up. A small smile creeps onto your lips at the thought of how tired he must’ve been, couldn’t even bother to properly slip underneath the covers, knocked out in seconds. Flying all the way to Japan, travelling for almost 24 full hours to surprise someone must do that to a person.

The shock has worn out, the sensation of your heart being one second from bursting and exploding into a million golden confetti has dimmed. Now your head feels clear enough for your mind to be focusing on the important stuff, the mundane thoughts you didn’t have the luxury of dwelling on for months are a messy but colorful vortex. Would he like the usual for dinner? Does the uniform or any shirts need some ironing? Yes, yes, Tooru favors dry cleaners because they’re practical and he’s rich but you desperately want to contribute. You want proof that he’s home, actually home. With his big designer suitcases and wrinkled shirts and ridiculously expensive glasses and a smile that still shifts your world’s axis.

You allow yourself to scoot closer, until your nose brushes against his shoulder. He radiates a comforting  warmth and smells nice as always. Of sunscreen, beaches, the cologne you have bought for his birthday. As you shut your eyes, memories from the previous night start slowly blurring the edges of your consciousness and lull you to sleep.

“Shit! Fuck!” you jolt awake at the unexpected profanities, the last thing you remember dreaming about including tanned skin and a much more peaceful scenery made of rolling waves and golden, powdery sand.

“What… what’s wrong?!”

Oikawa Tooru is looking at your with what could be only defined as a glare. Eyes squinted, accusatory worry lines and all.

“You let me sleep? Why were you sleeping too instead of waking me up? It’s late!” his pitch gets higher with each word and by the end of the fully formed sentence you’re grimacing. The awfully old digital alarm clock on your nighstand flashes a red 11:05 PM.

“I’m sorry!” you panic “I didn’t mean to fall asleep! I know it’s late but I can probably put something together for dinner anyway? Are you that hungry? Wait, actually, let me get something delivered and…”

Now he’s staring with an openly outraged look on his pretty face, which makes you think finishing the thought probably isn’t the smartest idea.

“You… don’t want me to order in? I mean, fine, you can pick any local restaurant or takeaway, I don’t really ca-”

“Are you stupid?”

Ok, well. That feels unfair.

“I already apologized for falling asleep, no need to be a jerk” now you’re squinting your eyes at him. One eye. The other is being relentlessly rubbed.

“You’re right” he sighs and his massive shoulders slump, head hanging low like a wounded animal “it’s not your fault. I’m the dumb one. Couldn’t even set an alarm”

“I think you’re blowing this out of proportion, we can still eat something. If you’re worrying about your sleep schedule, I’m sure I can find some sleeping pills or…”

Oikawa looks at you, exasperated.

“That’s definitely not what I’m worried about”

“What the hell are you worried about, then?”

“It’s valentine’s day, you clown”

You blink back your surprise, his fond eye roll not easing the heat that takes over your face as realization finally dawns on you. “That’s… that’s why you flew here?”

Tooru leans forward to lightly flick your forehead. A car passes down the street, the light bleeding through your shades brightens the room for a moment and you catch the sincere amusement in his eyes.

“Yes, darling dearest. That’s exactly why I flew here. I was also supposed to make plans, take you out on a proper date, rob a flower shop from the inside out instead of passing out and drooling on your favorite duvet”

You stare back at his comical frown for a few seconds more before falling back into your pillows with a chuckle.

“Glad you think this is funny and not irredeemably gross. Stop giggling, let me think. I’m gonna go buy the most expensive champagne bottle and pick dandelions along the fucking sidewalk if I have to, and then-”

“Tooru”

“What?” he’s already swinging one leg over the edge of the bed “I’ll be quick”

“You’re here”

Oikawa snorts.

“Yes, I’m still here. Now, if you could kindly let go of my shirt…”

“I don’t want any of those things. You know I don’t want them”

He huffs and air comes out of his nose. “Yeah, I know. But I wanted it to be special” his tone is petulant but you recognize the real thing vibrating underneath, the genuine disappointment.

“It’s already special because you’re here. The only thing that could make it extra special is you filling this cold, empty spot next to me” you pat the covers with a lenient smile and Oikawa allows himself three seconds, three entire seconds to sulk and flash you those big, wet, sopping eyes with a pout that makes him less of a volleyball superstar and more of a kicked labrador puppy.

You welcome his painfully heavy body on top of yours, sharp angles and hard muscles that somehow melt perfectly in your embrace. He’s holding you so tight, head buried in the crook of your neck, soft hair tickling your cheek.

“I’m sorry” Tooru murmurs the apology quietly and seals it into your skin. You know he truly is, devastated as he always gets when something doesn’t go according to the plan. Always one for grandiose gestures and loud displays of affection, chasing whatever it takes to validate how he feels just in case the other person needs proof, always additional proof heaven forbid they feel neglected or get bored. His confidence wavering, his mind always running 100 miles an hour. Am I doing enough? Am I still enough?

“I love you” you reply for good measure and his arms tighten around your body.

But do I deserve it?

“Thank you for flying across the planet to get to me” you smile into his hair before kissing the side of his head “I missed you”

“I’d fly across the solar system to get to you” he’s smiling too, it’s in his voice.

“Corny” with a grin, you pinch his cheek until he looks up with an exaggerated, pained groan. But before he has the chance to protest, you take his disgustingly pretty face in your hands. 

“Wherever you fly from, I’ll be there to welcome you home”

Tooru smiles into the kiss, chases your lips when you relax back into the pillows.

And I’ll spend my life trying to deserve it.

Good thing he has at least five different Havanna Alfajores variety boxes somewhere in one of those suitcases. And two tickets to fly back to Argentina.

#sobbb tooruuuu

[makimakimaki]

— honey lemon cw food

the first time oikawa tooru tells you he loves you is aged six. chubby cheeks are stretched out with contagious happiness as he presents you his confession with a gift, a lemon lollipop which he had snuck from under his mother’s nose as she spoke to your own.

you mirror his smile, sugar on your tongue and lips coated with artificial yellow as you return his words with no idea of what they truly meant. but, you think as oikawa beams at you, grinning impossibly wide, that maybe the warmth that filled your belly had something to do with love.

Keep reading

#blushhhhh

[makimakimaki]

— free will

“babe!” it’s closer to a shout than a whisper, no matter how oikawa tries to hush his voice, and it makes you turn away, face buried firmly in your pillow.

“no wait, come back,” oikawa’s arm snakes around your waist, pulling you back into his embrace. his other hand reaches over to tug at the end of the curtains and you groan unhappily at the disruption to your sleep.

you peak open an eye, lips pushed up in a pout and glance at the view of a cloud covered sun, streaks of pink and blue painting the sky as the world came to life. your frown deepens, staring expectantly at oikawa with bleary eyes.

you don’t get the explanation you want. instead, oikawa softens under your gaze, regardless of the less than happy look you’re shooting him. “good morning,” he grins, voice sticky with fondness and his hand moves to hold your cheek.

you hum in return, eyes fluttering closed once more under the warmth of oikawa’s touch.

“wait, baby, wake up,” oikawa shakes you gently, unrelenting on his hold, “i had something to ask.”

you palm at your eye slowly, murmuring a hazy “g’mornin’ ‘ru,” still a little dazed so early in the day. oikawa beams at the nickname, he knows you’re not a morning person.

“do you believe in soulmates?” the question is soft and sweet, spilling forth as a remnant of a horrifically tender dream.

you blink at him.

“y’know,” oikawa prompts, “people destined for each other?” because i think we are.

you don’t give him time to confess, single syllable of “no” cutting through the air, skewing the gentle atmosphere.

oikawa feels his heart stutter in his chest, next beat ever so slightly harder than the last. he’d never entertained the idea that your relationship was unbalanced. and yet, it makes his body freeze, arms suddenly tight around you, fear drawing you in, hoping you’d stay by his side.

you regain oikawa’s attention with a hand over his own, warmth of your cheek searing into his skin.

“i think we chose each other,” you explain, voice gentle and low, words only for tooru, “i always knew that you went to seijoh and you like volleyball, but i had to learn that you never drink enough water unless someone reminds you and that it took you all three years there to figure out the school layout. i also learnt that you can point out so many constellations at night because you really liked aliens as a kid. and that you put way too much sugar in your coffee. and all of that - every last bit - made me choose you.” you lean further into tooru’s hand, the meat of your cheek squishing up to your eye, “whether or not soulmates exist, i’d choose you in every lifetime.”

tooru feels his heart stutter in his chest, next beat ever so slightly lighter than the last. he’d never entertained the idea that your relationship was unbalanced, the very thought laughable as love fills the room around you, flowing through your veins. it makes his body relax, arms suddenly tight around you, only ever wanting you to be closer, closer, closer. because tooru chose you too, he always would.

#video game character taking damage nosies #minecraft damage taken noise layered multiple time plays #sobbbb my baby ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

[makimakimaki]

imagine watching your f/o's face turn cartoonishly red with blush after you complimented them

#mfhfgdhfhfhhh #ACTUAL SMILESSSS. SILLY CUTE

[makimakimaki]

Drunk reader calling either remus or eddie babygirl pretty please? 👉🏻👈🏻

ty for ur request! remus and a drunk fem!reader ♡

Remus is trying very hard to stop you from kissing him. You're drunk out of your mind, heavy-handed and glassy-eyed as you lift on toes to get your arms behind his neck. 

His laugh makes your eyelashes dance. 

"What's funny?" you ask, a wrinkle between your brows. You smell like fruit juice and the sharper headiness of pimms. 

"Nothing," he says. 

You kiss him. He's okay with little kisses, and any kiss at all if you were sober, but you're drunker than drunk and he doesn't work that way. When you lick his bottom lip he laughs like mad and pushes you away. 

"Fiend," he teases. 

"No, let me," you say, all whiney and soft. 

Remus rubs the stretch of your back with both hands. "Hmm," he hums, fingertips sliding under the hem of your shirt to knead at the small of your back. "No, dove, I don't think so. But," — your outrage wavers — "we can go home. Cwtch for as long as you want. No book, no laptop. I'm all yours." 

You like the sound of that, evident in your sticky sweet smile. Remus is a good boyfriend, but he's a dedicated writer. He chooses, too often, to add an extra page of his work in progress rather than come to bed. You're in sore need of a good hug.

He tries to sober you up at home with some tea and toast. You eat the toast with a queasy determination, and the tea goes untouched. He swaps it for water and that does a little better, but you're still, in his loving opinion, quite fucked. You hang off of his shirt and his arms and his shoulders, your hand a vice-like thing that follows his every move. Remus couldn't care less, but it does make getting you up the stairs and into bed a tad bit difficult. 

Your eyes are dropping as he unzips your dress. You lift your arms obligingly and he peels it off, swapping it out for a shirt that's too big and a pair of jogging bottoms. You grumble as he ties them off, a neat bow. 

"What'd you say, lovely?" he asks, hands paused against your stomach. 

"S'posed to be taking them off me." 

"No I'm not." He kisses your hand where it's covered his, and then your wrist for good measure.

You bring the other to his hair. He loves how you handle it, pulling and tugging just slightly, cruel in your intoxication but not your affection. You smile to yourself as you do, fingernail scratching his scalp. You're thinking hard. 

"Love you, babygirl," you say. 

He startles. "Sorry?" 

You tuck an overgrown strand of hair behind his ear and grin. "I said I love you, Remus." 

"No, you didn't." 

You push up on your elbows and squint. "You sure?" 

"Positive. You said, 'I love you, babygirl,'" he quotes. 

Your smile grows impossibly bigger. "I love you too."

Remus laughs. It's a delight to be with you, he thinks. You're lovely, and when you're drunk you get weird. It's amazing. 

You throw your arms around him like you're gonna start wrestling, face pressed hard to his chest. "Yes," you hiss. "Finally. Squeeze me, dummy." 

He squeezes you.  

[makimakimaki]

sleepy cuddles with remus???

like he’s on top of you face buried in your chest while you play with his hair and maybe say something like my moony while stroking his cheek and the other guys hear it and are like YOUR MOONY? he’s ours but remus is just nuzzles his head deeper into your chest and is like her moony ☺️

"My Moony," You coo down at Remus, your lips pressing a fleeting kiss to the flushed skin of his forehead. He buries his face further into your chest, and you can feel the smile on his face growing against the thin fabric of your shirt as he lays face down on top of you.

He's hardly able to mumble a 'stoooop' into your chest before James and Sirius join in, indignant shouts shattering the previously serene silence in the dorm.

"Your Moony?!" Sirius scoffs, "He's ours! We've known him for longer than you have, so back off, Y/L/N."

His remark is teasing, and you share an exasperated smile with him, but Remus is less amused. He swats away the hand that James uses to aggressively ruffle his hair, peeking out from your chest only to grumble, "Her Moony. Piss off, boys."

#actuallll bf giggle

[makimakimaki]

this guy fucking you against a wall. thank you.

it had been late when you got back, a long time spent at various bars: drinking, laughing and talking with band members you'd never thought you'd get the opportunity to meet. you'd spent the majority of your time conversing with them, talking about music and various other things that were deemed interesting enough. in fact, you'd talked so much that you hadn't noticed the look in james's eye, the subtle way he was asking you to come back to him.

he wasn't usually the jealous type and wasn't ever insecure about his status in your relationship. it was perhaps the only thing he was secure about. but, you'd walked through the door, into the hotel room you'd occupied for a couple days and there was a tension in the air.

he hadn't spoken to you the whole journey back, just remaining passive with a clenched jaw and a dangerous demeanour.

once his shoes and his jacket were off, you decided to bite.

"you alright?" you shrugged off your own jacket and kicked off your shoes, brushing your hair out of your face and looking at him,

he grunted in response and you eyed him suspiciously.

"you've been off all night. what's the matter?"

there was anticipation brewing in your stomach. when he got like this, he either yelled or fucked to make it better. you hoped with everything you had that it was the second option, too tired to even begin to entertain the first.

he still remained silent.

"jesus," you muttered. "forget i asked."

it was sudden, the way he gripped your hand and pressed you close against him, chests touching. his fingers were bruising your jaw as he pressed his lips roughly to yours.

your gasp was stifled and a grunt tumbled from your mouth as he walked you back to the wall. his kisses were harsh, his tongue pushing its way inside your mouth and you didn't have a chance to breathe as he pressed you against the wall. his body covered you completely and he pressed the hand on your jaw to the surface instead, supporting himself.

"james..." you managed to murmur between kisses.

"mhm?" he replied.

you weren't sure what you were going to ask, his kisses clouding your thoughts. it was even harder to focus as they trailed to your neck and sucked harshly - marking you.

"james, i-." you were cut off as he lifted you by the waist, hands trailing under your ass to keep you suspended in the air.

you carded your hands through his hair, tilting your head downwards so he could gain easier access to your lips.

your dress had ridden up past your hips and james pushed it up further with one hand, the other holding you.

"hold on," he muttered as he let go of you with one hand, using the wall and the strength of his arm as support. you did as he asked, pressing your heels into his back and wrapping your arms around his neck - anything to make it easier for him to undo his belt buckle and zipper and pull out his hard cock.

he did it all in one fumbling motion, desperate to be inside you as he pushed your panties to the side and sunk in. you both gasped into each other's mouths at the action, james letting his eyes flutter shut for a moment before he thrust his hips upward.

his hands were planted firmly on your ass, the movement of his hips harsh and thirsty for a release.

"fuck," you let your head fall against the wall, your back arching and your breath shaky.

you could swear the wall shook with each thrust, the power behind his movements suspending you in the moment, not allowing you room to think or feel anything but the euphoria coursing through your body.

you could vaguely hear james' grunts as he bucked his hips faster, pushing your further up the wall to make sure he didn't lose his grip.

your hands were in his hair, tugging at the roots and you could feel the pleasure surmounting everywhere. it spread from your pussy to the tips of your fingers and you warned james with a singular call of his name.

he cursed in response, fingers digging into your ass and thrusting faster in you. the head of his cock dragged against your spot, your stomach tightening as he rested his head against your shoulder and sloppily sucked at your skin.

you couldn't warn him as it hit you harshly, your legs shaking and pussy clenching around his cock - your orgasm powerful. his pace didn't falter, intent on gaining his own pleasure.

tears streamed at the overstimulation and he pressed his lips to yours as he came, tongue in your mouth and cum filling you up.

there was a moment of silence before he set you down, arms aching with the exertion. your legs were unable to support your weight and he let you fall into his chest, arms reaching around him in an embrace.

he tenderly stroked your hair, letting both your heartrates and breathing return to normal before he spoke.

"sorry." he muttered the apology like he didn't really want to say it. "didn't mean to take it out on you."

you knew no matter the amount of prying you did or persistence you used, he wouldn't tell you why he was worked up. so you just pressed a kiss to his cheek, carefully making your way over to the bed and sitting atop the covers.

"it's okay," you said. "i liked it."

he let out a small chuckle, pulling his shirt over his head and flinging it to the floor. he brushed his hair away from his face, sweat clinging to his body.

then, he walked towards you, grabbing your chin between his fingers and tilting it upwards.

"you wanna shower with me?"

you smiled up at him and pretended to think.

"hmmm..."

"drop the act." he rolled his eyes and pulled you to your feet, kissing you softly before dragging you towards the shower with him.