#—joysministuffs

[joyaphoria]

when i tell you that bokuto is impatient, i mean he is impatient. you'll be at your mutual friends' birthday party, and he'll come up to you and tug at your sleeve, telling your friends that he needs to borrow you for a second. you'll shrug at them and follow him, only to yelp when he yanks you into the bathroom and pins you against the door, locking it right after. you'll gasp when you feel the full weight of his body press against into yours, as he seems to melt into every curve and crevice. you'll have your hands against his chest, trying to push him off, to warn him that someone might hear, but your whimpers fall on deaf ears. he'll hold your wrists, nuzzling his nose against your ear, pleading with you to touch him.

'need you so badly, baby,' he'll groan, rutting his hips against yours. you'll gasp and move your hands to squeeze his shoulders once you feel his erection pressing against your clit ever so forcefully, unsure of whether you're now pulling him in or pushing him off. ‘take ‘em off,’ he’ll whimper, clawing at your shirt desperately, ‘please, baby.’ in a swift motion his fingers are unbuttoning your jeans as his lips begin an assault on your neck, leaving bruises for days, though they're simply overlapping the ones he left last night. you'll cry out once he slips a thick finger into the heat of your cunt, his other hand fumbling at his own jeans to undo the zipper.

'b-bo, please,' you'll moan, as he pushes in with a second finger, reaching up and curving forward, his thumb pressing over your clit. he'll pull his cock out, spreading his precum all over himself as he ruts into his hand. you'll gasp when he pulls his fingers out of you, only to yank your panties all the way down to your knees, and push into you in one motion. you'll bite into your hand to stifle a scream, as bo hooks one arm under your knee, lifting it up to allow him to press deeper, to fill you up with his thick, pulsing cock. you'll rise onto your tippy toes on your other foot, then rush forward to tackle his lips in a bruising kiss. he'll lose his balance and fall down — you following soon after — and you'll thank the heavens that the bathroom was spacey, and that he managed to miss hitting his head against the toilet bowl by about two inches. you'll jump on his cock desperately, nails digging into the skin of his tummy, before leaning down again to fuck his mouth with your own. he'll groan so desperately, so painfully, before flipping you over and pressing one of your legs upwards, thigh against your stomach, rutting into you ruthlessly.

its messy and so, so dirty, the two of you dancing across the bathroom floor, your arms flailing as you search for something to anchor yourself to. you'll gasp and muffle a scream when you feel teeth bite on your nipple, not even realizing that somewhere along the way, your shirt was torn right down the middle. eventually he'll bury his face in your tits and angle his hips upwards, as they seem to tremble and stutter almost painfully. his fat cock will shake violently inside of you as he comes, hard. you'll feel some of his cum try to squeeze out, clearly impossible since you're so tightly suctioned onto him, his cock being the very thing that molded your sweet pussy.

then he'll open his eyes and watch you for a sweet moment, before continuing his assault, his hips slamming straight into you. you're once again being pushed up the bathroom floor, your back sliding as you pull him against you and scream into his neck, wrapping your legs around him. he'll pick you up and sit back on his heels, yanking your hips down to meet his every thrust. when you feel your climax approaching, you'll grab the back on his head and shove it onto your breast, and needing no further indicator, he'll latch onto your nipple and bite, pulling and kneading as you bite into the plush skin between his neck and shoulder, shaking and trembling as it hits you, back arching and thighs squeezing.

everyone avoids eye contact once you two finally find your way out of the bathroom, and bokuto simply takes it as an invitation to drag you to the car and back home, where he plans to pump some more of his cum into his babies little pussy.

#—joylovesyou #—joysministuffs #mdni #this was supposed to be like a paragraph #sorry #haikyuu #haikyuu smut #hq #hq smut #haikyuu x reader smut #hq x reader smut #bokuto koutaro #bokuto smut #bokuto x reader #bokuto x reader smut #bokuto #bokuto kotarou

[joyaphoria]

needy!sakusa that will literally grind against you, anywhere. in bed in the mornings when you’re still half asleep, and all of a sudden the arms around your waist tighten as hips rut against you from behind, kiyoomi’s forehead pressed to the center of your back as he curls around you.

“fuck,” he’ll curse, groaning ever so slightly, breathing into the crook of your neck and sucking at the skin.

when you’re straddling his lap and kissing down his neck, he’ll mutter a “what the fuck,” then with two hands on your hips holding you in place, he’ll lift his own as he grinds back and forth against you, the tightness in his boxers driving him on the need to release. 

“omi, i could just-” you gasp, as he takes the skin on your neck between his teeth, biting hard as he groans and grinds harder.

“no time, need to cum now.”

#—joylovesyou #—joyknowsitall #—joysministuffs #mdni #im serious #haikyuu #haikyuu smut #hq #hq smut #haikyuu x reader #sakusa smut #sakusa x reader #sakusa x reader smut #sakusa thirsts

[joyaphoria]

"it's 10:15 pm," sakusa groans, squinting his eyes at the outline of a figure making a poor attempt at crawling in through his bedroom window.

the best course of action would probably have been to jump out of bed and shove the intruder back out the window, but after the first few times it's happened, sakusa learned to simply accept that you're just never going to be normal.

he only rolls his eyes annoyingly when you get tangled up in your own limbs, leaving you to tumble onto the floor. "omi!" you exclaim as you quickly recover, kicking off your shoes as you throw yourself onto his bed. "i missed you soo much!"

"i was only away for a day," he sighs, biting his tongue before he could add 'clearly not long enough'.

"and still it felt like forever," you whine, sprawling out on his bed. "i was all alone at lunch, it was horrible."

sakusa doesn't bother to point out the fact that you could've eaten lunch with your other friends, because he knows how you feel about them already. 'you know how they are,' you'll say, disapointement clouding your usually cheerful eyes, 'you know what they say about me.'

and although sakusa has always been a straightforward realist, never one to beat around the bush, he'd rather keep his mouth shut than to bring up a topic that he knows would ruin your mood.

"did you eat?" he asks instead, leaning over to flick on the lamp on his bedside table, the tiny bulb lighting up the room.

you nod cheerfully, before pulling out a container of oreos from behind your back. "i brought these for us today, but when i couldn't find you i decided i would just bring them to you instead!"

he doesn't bother to tell you that he’s never liked oreos, the filling far too sweet for him to enjoy. he takes one anyways, carefully pulling apart the cookie and plopping the part without the filing into his mouth.

“no eating on my bed,” he scolds, watching as you freeze, two of the overly sugary treats already stuffed in your mouth. he absently shudders at the thought of micro sized cookie crumbs sprinkled under his sheets, too small to fish out, but just big enough to drive his sensory issues through the roof.

you nod apologetically and finish chewing the cookies in your mouth, placing the plastic container on his bedside table. then, you lie flat on your stomach, plop up your chin on your arms, and stare at him.

“what?” he bites out, pulling his bedsheets up higher to cover his chest, all of a sudden aware of the fact that he was only in his boxers.

you notice the subtle gesture however, and when your eyes quickly dart down to catch his bare shoulders, the corner of your mouth twitches up. 

“omi,” you purr, as your eyes narrow to slits and the smirk he’s unknowingly grown weak for appears.

“you’re absolutely insufferable,” he huffs, picking up one of his pillows and launches it at your head, though you dodge it with your arm.

you push yourself up on all fours, slowly crawling towards him with that same look in your eye, the one that knocks all the air out of kiyoomi’s lungs and leaves him shuddering. still, he refuses to back up or turn away as you reach him, leaning in closer until you’re practically sharing the same air as him.

his heart pounds rapidly as he wills himself to hold out, to keep a straight face even though you’re so, so close, your hands on either side of his hips, your knees between his legs, and your mouth, your mouth—

your eyes dart down to his lips. his eyes dart down to yours.

he shoves you off quickly, scoffing as he lays on his side and yanks the covers up to his neck. “time to go,” he dismisses you, ignoring the way you’re laughing as the heat creeps up his neck and, well, his crotch.

recovering from your fit of giggles, you move to lie on your side to face him, but he interrupts you before you can crawl under the sheets. “no outside clothes under my sheets,” he hisses, shuddering at the thought of all you dirt you would be dragging into his bed, especially considering you came in through his window.

you arch your eyebrow playfully, and just as he’s realizing what he said, you lift your arms and pull your hoodie over your head, revealing the thin — oh so thin — fabric of your tank top, and the fact that you aren’t wearing a bra. kiyoomi doesn’t notice he’s been staring until you pull off your sweatpants in one swift motion, revealing a hidden pair of boxers underneath.

oh my god.

if he was red earlier, he must’ve been a dark shade of purple by now. 

he turns onto his other side, taking in a deep, silent inhale. his best friend. you’re his best friend. “i said to go home,” he repeats, but his head is screaming, begging you to touch him, to hold him, to run your fingertips up and down his arm, to wrap your hand around his pulsing, aching d—

“i can’t,” you sigh, and kiyoomi curses the name of every single one of his ancestors watching over him when he feels your body press against him from behind, and he has to bite hard into his bottom lip to stop himself from groaning.

what the fuck. grow a fucking pair, kiyoomi.

“then go sleep on the side of the road,” he mutters, inhaling sharply when your hands snakes across his waist, the cool skin of your arm shocking the warmness of his chest.

“oh but you’d much rather me here, wouldn’t you?”

kiyoomi curses once again. in his head, of course. or was it out loud?

“don’t play games with me,” he warns, squeezing his eyes shut when your hand snakes dangerously low.

“but you’re just so much fun,” you coo against the tenderness of his neck, your hand tracing down the fine lines of his chest, down to his v-line, then thumbing at the waistband of his boxers.

“y/n,” he bites out. your hand slips under his boxers. his hips jerk.

in less than two seconds you’re pinned beneath him on his mattress as he hovers over you, chest heaving and a knee between your thighs.

“what’s this, omi?” you call out playfully, lifting your hand between your faces and you spread apart your fingers, the stickiness of a substance stretching along with it.

he’s going to hell.

he pushes his knee upwards, firmly, and you gasp, gripping onto his forearm and your hips jolt and you whimper.

his dick jumps in his boxers.

he watches as you try to subtly grind against his knee, desperate for any kind of friction, the sultry facade fallen.

this is going to be a long night.

#—joylovesyou #—joysministuffs #—joyisromantic #mdni #sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa smut #sakusa x reader #sakusa drabbles #sakusa drabble #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #hq x reader #hq smut #kiyoomi #omg how did this happen bye\ #characters are 18.

[joyaphoria]

the first time you and bokuto met, you guys were ten. you had just moved to tokyo and your mom got a job at the same place bokuto's mom worked. they became friends almost instantly, and once they realized they had children the same age, a play date was set immediately.

contrary to popular belief, you guys didn't get along well at all. bokuto was a stubborn child; he wanted to be outside playing volleyball with his friends, and the idea of having to stay inside to acquaint himself with a little girl that probably didn't know a thing about the sport seemed catastrophic.

he was right after all — you didn't know (or even care) about bokuto's treasured sport, and you were just as fond of being there as he was. you'd give anything to be at home, burying your face in some mangas, or playing piano.

you fought like cats and dogs the first four years after you guys met, both at school and outside of it, since your houses were close and your families were even closer. unfortunately, keeping a distance was just never an option.

the first time you and bokuto had ever gotten along (if you could even call it that), was when you turned fifteen. bokuto was invited to your party by default, as well as everyone in your homeroom class by your mother's request, nevermind the fact that you got along with hardly any of them.

you had just finished helping yours and bokuto's mom in the kitchen with prepping the food, and made your way back to the living room to check on your guests.

you froze in place once you caught them grouping around your piano, realizing that you forgot to put away your piano books.

you've always been big in the arts, but piano was your thing. you liked to think of yourself of a composer of sorts, writing sheet music and occasionally adding a few lyrics.

you would've thought you might have learned from a similar incident a few years ago, when you caught bokuto reading through your sheet music. though he never said anything — never hinted at any emotion at all — you still ended up a sobbing mess.

this however, was very different. they were snickering and laughing, pointing at the lyrics and your 'odd penmanship', trying to make out the words on the paper. you felt the tears swelling up in your eyes already, your hands trembling as you find yourself glued in place.

before you could even blink, a familiar figure's shoving past you into the room, and you watch as bokuto snatches the sheet music from the boy holding them.

he laughs then, snickering at bokuto before looking over at you. "hey, y/n, did you write all this bull—"

there is a fist colliding with his nose in less than half a second.

all the girls shriek and shove at each other as they back away from the commotion, screaming as bokuto scrambles on top of the boy, maintaining the upper hand from the very beginning.

you watch them fight, bokuto sporting a split lip and bruised fists as his mother runs in and yanks him off of the boy, your mother rushing in behind his to assess the situation.

you're utterly confused, even more so once he turns to find your eyes, and the side of his lip quirks up into a lopsided smirk.

later once everyone leaves and situation was managed and dealt with, you find yourself staring once again, as he takes a cotton ball to his bloody lip, and runs his fists under the tap.

once he turns off the water and looks up to address you, you catch sight of that intoxicating smile yet again, and you don't even need to ask anything. bokuto can read the question right off your face.

"can't have anyone else reading the songs you write about me now, can we?"

what if i turned this into a short written series, the five years of bokuto and y/n as enemies until this happens and everything changes?

composed

#—joylovesyou #—joyisromantic #—joysministuffs #no proof read we die like men #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader fluff #bokuto #bokuto koutaro #bokuto fluff #bokuto x reader #bokuto x reader fluff #bokuto kotaro #bokuto kōtarō #bokuto drabble #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu drabble

[joyaphoria]

growing up, kiyoomi never had many friends.

he didn’t know how to talk to the other kids, and so he wasn’t very good at socializing.

having curly hair didn’t help either, because while his moms friends called him adorable and fluffed it, the other kids just thought it was weird.

‘you aren’t normal!’ they would shriek, running down the hall when he would approach them. ‘normal kids have straight hair!’

when kiyoomi would come home, sometimes with a trembling lip as he struggled to contain his whimpers, his mom would twist one of the ‘abnormal’ curls around her finger.

“there’s no such thing as normal, baby.” she would whisper against his head. “kids just aren’t used to things that they don’t see everyday.”

knowing that his curls were popular with the adults made him feel a little better, but it didn’t change the fact that he still wasn’t accepted amongst his peers.

then one day, a new student was introduced to the class.

the other kids were fascinated with you, because you moved around a lot, and came here from abroad; the teachers were just as in awe, because even at the young age of ten, you spoke both japanese and english.

you’ve been to so many places around the world, that the other kids began to trust in your opinion of what was and wasn’t cool.

and so one day during recess, while kiyoomi was playing on the swings, the same troublesome group of kids came after him.

“he looks like he’s wearing a mop!” one of the girls shrieked. “no way! even i wouldn’t use that to clean the floor!” a boy retorted.

kiyoomi closed his eyes and ignored them as he kicked his legs on the swing, urging it to go higher. block them out, his mom had told him. show them that they aren’t important.

and kiyoomi was trying, he really was, but the things they said got nastier and nastier, until one of them said “no way his momma touches that mop!”

his lip was trembling by the end, and he hung his head to save himself from the embarrassment of being seen crying.

“where i’ve been, curls are super cool.”

and all the giggling and snickers went quiet, as kiyoomi looked up to find you, arms crossed as you stared down the other kids. “bullying isn’t though, and the big kids would usually come to hang you upside down.”

their eyes went wide in fear as the scrambled away, leaving omi on the swing with his head bowed and cheeks tear stained, his curls shielding his face.

“i think your curls are great,” you exclaim, taking a seat in the swing next to his. “my big sister has curls too, and she styles them really pretty!”

kiyoomi blinks, slowly looking up to meet your eyes. you smile even brighter, and kiyoomi’s cheeks heat when you ask, “may i touch your hair?”

nobody had ever asked, not even his moms friends who did it regardless.

and maybe he was just so used to the names he’s been called, because he asks, “aren’t you afraid that you’ll get cursed? or that worms will crawl out?”

and kiyoomi watches as you burst into laughter, so hard, that the other kids were turning their heads to whisper and mumble. “if touching curly hair curses me, im way passed saving!”

kiyoomi finds himself smiling faintly alongside you, before tilting his head towards you, as a silent way of approving.

he listens as you hold one of his curls, exclaiming, “it’s so soft! your ma takes care of them so nicely!”

and ever since that day, kiyoomi had grown attached to you.

you guys became the best of friends; occasional play dates, sleepovers, always together at school, and always confiding in each other. you two were inseparable, and you made kiyoomi’s elementary days less and less insufferable.

that is until you turned twelve, and kiyoomi found out that you were moving away again.

“my dad found a job back up in canada,” you explained hesitantly one day at recess, as you both sat side by side on the swings. “my dad doesn’t like to stay in one place for too long, and it turns out that my mom has been pushing the move back for some time now.”

you don’t mention that it’s because you’ve been begging her not to go, your little heart suffocating at the thought of leaving your best friend behind.

kiyoomi hangs his head — just like that day two years ago — shielding the world from the tears that were making their way down his face.

“i’m sorry, omi.” you whisper, entangling your tiny hand with his. he can hear the sincerity in your soft voice, and the way it trembles tells him that he isn’t the only one loosing a special part of him. “one day when i’m older, i’ll find you again.”

kiyoomi lifts his head once more, finding courage in your oath. “you promise?” because kiyoomi had never had been promised anything, just the small things from his parents, that were often forgotten about.

this, though, isn’t small. this is big and important, and it’s a promise that you need to keep, if made. “i promise, omi.”

and kiyoomi is guilty of forgetting about you by the time he becomes a teenager, because let’s face it; you were children. your little hearts had entangled and grown fond of each other, but eventually, you were no more than the first friend he had made in kindergarten, long since forgotten about.

little does he know, come twelve years, you would most definitely find your newly grown hearts, once again, entangled.

#—joysministuffs #—joyisromantic #—joylovesyou #sakusa kiyomi #sakusa x reader #sakusa drabble #sakusa drabbles #sakusa fluff #sakusa #kiyomi #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x self insert #sakusa x y/n #ok this was in my drafts

[joyaphoria]

its 1:18 am, when you hear keys jangling in your front door.

excited to see your boyfriend after a long day, you get up from the couch and turn into the hallway, calling out to him.

and it is, in fact, suna, but it’s not suna. 

not with the way he’s sitting on the floor, legs sprawled out in front of him, back against the wall, as he cries. you rush over, sitting in front of him with your legs beneath you. “baby? baby, what’s wrong?”

you’re holding onto his forearms as he sobs into his hands.

“i love you — fuck, god, i’m so in love with you.” he whimpers, as he slowly lets down his hands, looking into your eyes with a passion so hot, so powerful and so raw, something that you’ve only read about in books.

“i know, i look pathetic,” he shakes his head, taking your hands in his. “but fuck if i give a shit. i just, i-i come home to you. i come here, home to you, and i wake up to you, and i fall asleep with you,” he explains, filling your heart with an emotion that not even words could describe. “i never want anything to change, and god i’m so afraid that one day, one day, i’ll open my eyes and you’ll be gone.”

“rin,” you whisper, tears swelling in your own eyes as you cup his cheek. “why wouldn’t i be here?”

“because you’re too good to be true. it’s so much, i don’t deserve you at all, but you’re here with me, and — fuck, i just, it’s just so hard to believe that you chose me.” he looks around for his bag, reaching over and fumbling inside, pulling out a tiny black box.

your heart explodes.

“rin-”

“marry me, y/n. please.” he breaths. “i want this, i want this forever. i never want anything else, never. i just want you, i want all of you, so fucking bad.”

you watch as his trembling hands pry open the box, revealing a small silver band, with the most gorgeous diamond you have ever laid eyes on. you’ve never owned any diamonds, never.

he carefully places the ring on your finger, before looking up at you with eyes that say everything he can’t. “there are so many things i can say, so many things i can do,” he shakes his head. “but living without you, isn’t one of those things. living and knowing that you aren’t mines, that i’m not the one you want, it’s too much. i don’t even want to think about it.”

you’re crying with him now, the two of you sobbing together by your front door.

“you don’t have to think about it. i don’t want you to ever think about it, because it’s never going to happen, i promise.”

and it’s 1:18 pm when you secure that promise, in a dress that took nearly an hour to put on, walking down the aisle to rintarou; to your future, to your forever.

and suna, even in a suit so expensive, in a venue so expensive — and later, on a honeymoon, very expensive — is still trying to comprehend the fact that you’re about to become his, fully his.

#—joylovesyou #—joysministuffs #—joyscrybabies #—joyisromantic #suna #suna fluff #suna drabbles #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu x reader #suna x reader #suna rintarou #bro ignore this #i cant write fluff #def gonna stick to angst #PLAY MIND OVER MATTER WHILE U READ #MADE ME CRY LOL

[joyaphoria]

it’s 12:23 pm, and kiyoomi is loosing his mind — silently.

valentines day is today, and sakusa knows from experience that whenever the holiday comes around, you make little pink cards for the entire class and hand them out with pink lollipops.

he’s been in the same homeroom as you since the beginning of elementary school, up to now, your last year before you graduate to junior high.

in other words, omi has five — and hopefully soon to be six — pink valentines day cards pinned to the wall in his bedroom, each one with his name scribbled a little neater as the years went on and your handwriting improved.

but this year, sakusa isn’t only hoping for another card; he’s hoping for a special one. a card that has more than a prewritten happy valentines day, with his name scribbled at the top, and a love, y/n at the bottom.

he wants one that you’ve secretly given to a select few throughout the years; the ones that were boasted around the schoolyard, despite your wishes to have them remain discreet.

ones that he pushed into tiny mobs of boys his age to see, where one of the boys would be showing the card around, grinning as if he’d won a free ice cream.

a card that has a special message on it, different for whoever receives it.

he wants one really bad, and he’s wanted one since year two, when you shooed away the boys that were trying to get omi to roll around in the mud with them. he’s wanted it even more since year four, when you caught his eye during lunch, and invited him over to your desk to have some of your food.

but it was last year — year five — that he swore to himself that he had to get one of those cards, when you asked him to touch his hair. he nodded quickly, and you gently picked up one of the strands, twisting it around your fingers. 

he remembers you whispering, they’re so soft, before ooh’s and ahh’s filled the classroom, and the two of you turned bright red.

he watches as you go desk to desk, shuffling through the plastic bag on your arm, handing each student a pink envelope and a lollipop. you’re almost to him, and sakusa hides his fidgeting hands beneath the desk.

he looks around the class, noticing that this time, everyone has a pink envelope. the special ones are usually a different colour, like the yellow ones from year one, or the purple ones from year three.

are you not handing out them out this year?

omi’s heart squeezes, but he wills himself to breathe, slowly looking up when your shoes stop in front of his desk.

“hi omi!” you beam, smiling at him, before rummaging through your bag. he watches as you accidentally pull out two envelopes, one red and one pink.

wait- is he gonna get a special one — a red one? even though nobody else—

you drop the red one in the bag and nervously hand him a pink one along with a lolipop, quickly shuffling away to the next person — but not before his mind takes a screenshot of the cursive scribble that was on the red envelope.

later on, he finds out that nobody got a special envelope that day, and omi doesn’t dare tell a soul that there was indeed a red envelope in that bag.

when he gets home, kiyoomi asks his mom to write out his name in cursive. she gives him a look that says okay..? but does it regardless, eyeing him between each letter. 

he folds the paper in half, and waits until he reaches his room before opening it.

in all honesty, kiyoomi has no idea how to read cursive, but it doesn’t matter; not when his (cursive) name, is near identical to the one he remembers on the red envelope.

kiyoomi, the envelope had written on it. 

kiyoomi, with two little hearts over the i’s.

though no one got a special envelope that day, kiyoomi knows that there was in fact a special one in there, one reserved especially for him; and you were too nervous to give it to him.

he buries his face in his pillow, and screams.

#—joylovesyou #—joyisromantic #—joysministuffs #haikyuu #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu drabble #sakusa #kiyoomi #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa fluff #sakusa drabbles #sakusa x reader #this is in no way proof read #im just babbling here #anyways-

[joyaphoria]

[3:02 AM - SUNA]

suna grunts softly as he crouches on the balcony, quickly but quietly pushing up the stiff window.

it feels like forever until he finally opens it up wide enough to fit though, but it's the last thing on his mind as he pushes his legs in first, and slips into your room.

he closes the window behind him, before giving the room a once over. a few vanilla candles are lit, but the room is still dark, and he can't see a thing.

he walks over to where he remembers your bedside lamp being, and flicks it on.

his eyes roam over to your bed first — technically the one you should be asleep in at 3 in the morning — but he isn't surprised when he doesn't see you.

he instinctively walks to your closet, but pauses outside.

"y/n?" he calls out softly, placing a hand on the cool metal of the doorknob. "can i come in, pretty?"

he's answered with a quiet sniffle, then a mumbled, "no."

suna sighs calmly and crouches down, his fingers intwined. "what happened, y/n?"

you don't respond, but suna has enough patience to cover the world when it comes to you, so he takes off his sweater, sits down on the carpet, and waits.

five minutes pass until a sob breaks out from behind the door, and suna's head darts up. between shaky sobs, suna makes out: "it was just a dream, but it felt so real."

but you're crying again, and suna can't quite figure out what to do.

"the way you said her name, rin, it hurt so much. the way you looked at her; you only ever look at me like that."

suna shuts his eyes, and runs a hand down his face. "can i open the door?"

"you know what scares me the most? that all the things we do together, one day, you'll do them with someone else. everything that's special to us will be special to another girl."

suna stands up, twists the doorknob, and pulls it open.

flicking on the light switch, he looks down to find you crisscrossed on the floor, puffy eyes and puffy cheeks, and tears streaming down your face.

he kneels down in front of you, and cups your damp cheeks with both of his hands. your lips fold in as your face crumbles once more, another wave of tears and sobs coming in.

"y/n," he sighs, pulling you into him as you sob against his chest, fisting his shirt in your hands. "the things that are special to us, will always only be ours. they'll never be for anyone else, because there never will be anyone else. our special things will always be our own."

your body trembles and shakes as you cry against him, but suna holds you tight, leaving kisses after kisses on your head to soothe you.

suna is always there to soothe you.

of course he'll miss a few tears, and sometimes he won't be there when you wake up calling for him, but he'll catch the next bus to your house, or walk the mile if he has to. he'll climb balconies and jump through windows at 3 in the morning to catch your tears and cuddle you back to sleep, or even stay with you until day break to fight them off if he has to.

"there will never be anyone better for us than each other, my pretty girl. there will never be anyone like you for me."

you're falling asleep in his arms, the kisses on your head slowly coming to a stop.

as suna carries you back into bed, he prays that the universe will be a little lighter on you.

this is an almost retelling of something that happened just the other day with me and my boyfriend, so i guess this is just a little appreciation post for him, because life has been so good after him. we have our rough patches and i am a handful, but he's always so patient and understanding for me, and is always willing to adapt and change to work with me, as am i. i'm so thankful for him, and i love him so much.

#—joylovesyou #—joysministuffs #—joyisromantic #—joyfeelsbetter #haikyuu #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu drabble #haikyuu comfort #haikyuu x reader #suna x reader #suna fluff #suna comfort #suna drabbles #also hi im back lol #i post something then leave and come back #lol

[joyaphoria]

its 9:12 in the fucking morning, and kiyoomi’s teenage hormones are raging.

at a beach two hours away from home, his family and many of his relatives — including komori’s family — had met together in the hot summer sun, ready for a day of swimming, eating, tanning, and what not.

what kiyoomi had not expected, though, was for you to be here. you were not in anyway related to him or any of his family, but they all know you regardless.

your family has been close with komori’s for a very long time — since from before you two were even born — so much so that you’ve grown up together, and are even prone to calling each other cousins.

because motoya’s parents were just as much yours, you would often tag along with them to family get togethers when you were all younger.

you were shy around everyone — mainly because you felt like an outsider — mostly just sticking to komori’s side, and sometimes speaking to kiyoomi since he was usually with him too.

but as kiyoomi’s parents got busier, they werent always at family gatherings, and you were never there at the same time that they were. he’s long since forgotten about you, no one more than a girl from his childhood.

or so he thought.

his family had arrived to the beach late, caught in traffic, and his parents were unpacking the food they had brought.

his mom bugged at him to remove his shirt, using the excuse of swimming, to be able to show off his volleyball chest to his relatives.

he turned to look out at the beach — clean, very clean — when he noticed his  cousin making his way to shore.. with a girl beside him.

it wasnt until you got to shore, grabbing a turtle floaty from the sand while shoving motoya, had he recognized you — just barely.

kiyoomi looks away, very quickly.

the curve of your hips, your chest, your.. ass, its too much for him, too much to get used to. the little girl from his childhood, reduced to nothing more than a memory, was now.. a woman.

but then his mom is dragging him towards the shore, calling your name and waving you over as if you were his long lost friend.

“hi, sakusa-san,” you smile at his mom, his heart dropping dead. “how are you?”

“my god, look at you!” she makes an obscene gesture with her hands, her face in awe, and kiyoomi prays for the sand beneath his feet to suck him in. “you’re so grown up now! so beautiful,”

you let out an airy chuckle, and kiyoomi looks out over the water, hiding the redness of his cheeks.

“you remember kiyoomi, right? you guys used to play together all the time when you were younger!”

as expected, you look in his direction and nod, kiyoomi still avoiding your gaze; he doesn’t trust his eyes to remain faithful to his values.

“come on, come on, you guys take a picture together,” his mom beckons, pulling out her phone from her pocket. “hurry come on,”

she motions for you guys to stand together in front of the shore, and thats when he finally looks at you, eyes quickly scanning over your face before he turns towards the camera.

he stands beside you at an arms length away, his face bored, unamused — the complete opposite to his fuming hormones right now, that he prays aren’t showing through his swim trunks.

“what — come on, stand together! i need to get a good photo!”

you chuckle, stepping closer, but even he can tell that you’re nervous.

“kiyoomi! stop being like that or ill take you home, right now.” his mom sighs, and kiyoomi does too.

eighteen years old, and even he isnt spared from the childish threats, so he takes a deep breath and whispers, “can i put my arm around you?”

it’s out of character for him, and maybe that’s why you turn and look at him, surprise flashing in your eyes — as if you’ve remembered after all these years.

either way, you nod, and kiyoomi’s jaw tenses as he wraps his arm around you, resting his hand on your shoulder.

“there you go, now smile — you too, kiyoomi, im not joking.” his mom cheers, then throwing a pointed look his way, earning a soft snicker from you.

it takes everything he’s got not to look at you, willing himself to breath, because — holy shit — your skin is so soft, and you fit into him just right.

he tilts the corners of his mouth up into a close lipped smile, because he knows that his mom wont put up with his shit for even a moment.

you lean into him while throwing up a peace sign, and kiyoomi is yelling at himself, willing his mind to block out the feel of your exposed skin against his bare chest.

just before you think you’re done, komori’s mom comes to take a picture too, and his inner thoughts whimper.

when you finally pull away and head back to the water, komori coming over to greet his aunt and cousin, kiyoomi’s mom scrolls through the photos she took.

“she’s such a pretty young lady now,” she smiles at her phone. “if you bring home a girl anything short of her, i will hang you upside down, kiyoomi.”

yeah, sure, if the thought of you doesn’t kill him first.

#—joylovesyou #—joyisromantic #—joysministuffs #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu drabble #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa #sakusa fluff #sakusa drabbles #sakusa x reader #kiyoomi

[joyaphoria]

[7:25 PM - OSAMU]

osamu doesn’t remember how to breathe.

it could be because of the panic attack he just had, or simply because he cant bring himself to get out of the car.

what if you changed your mind?

what if he took you out, and mid-celebration, you decided that you chose the wrong person? the wrong twin?

saying that osamu felt inferior to his twin is atrocious, because no, he didn’t. he didn’t feel like a lesser being when he stood next to his other half, and he sure as hell didn’t feel like he was below him.

what he does feel like, is a second choice — a rebound — because while osamu may not feel like his twin is better than him, the people around him might disagree.

osamu would be lying if he said that he didnt hate his twin for it sometimes — for the days he spent looking into the mirror, trying to figure out what set them apart. what was it that made osamu so unlikeable, next to his brother?

it became an insecurity as they grew up, a rot that was eating away at osamu’s self worth. he shared a face with his twin. he shared a sport with his twin — and for the nights that tsumu needed someone to confide in, he shared a bed with him, too.

they were almost the same, and yet so different.

the insecurity then turned into and inferiority that osamu had sworn to never feel against his brother. the words, the looks, the stares, they all said the exact same thing.

he would never leave atsumu. he would stay with his twin; forever by his side, forever in his shadow.

but then there’s you, and osamu has never wanted something as bad as he wants you.

when it comes to you, osamu doesn’t give a shit about comparing to atsumu. he’s been used to girls that would double cross him to get to his twin, and over time, he lost the ability to care anymore.

but he doesn’t know what he’ll do if you end up to be one of those girls. he doesn’t know what he’ll do, but loosing you would mean taking another blow to his pride; the pride that had so effortlessly withered away, and now rested in the hope that you wanted osamu, just as bad as he wanted you.

but he’s so used to the thought that you might leave him, that it’s getting harder and harder to trust you; to trust what you say, to trust you when you tell osamu that you love him more than anything.

he’s heard it all before.

and its selfish of him, so selfish, to put the burden of his insecurities upon your shoulders — to charge you with the responsibility of loving him, of rebuilding his self-worth, that was reduced to almost nothing.

you said you would do it, because you love him.

there was so much truth in your voice, that osamu had been afraid it was a lie.

all the promises, and yet osamu can’t get out of the car.

he can’t find it in him to get out and knock on your door, to thank your mom and dad for allowing him to take you out.

he cant handle the thought of being rejected by you, and the voice in his head yelling at him to protect the bit of sanity he has left is convincing.

and maybe, if not for the knock on his window, he would’ve found it in him to breathe again, and drive away. he would’ve told himself that he’s better off protecting his weak heart, than to give it to someone he is so undeserving of.

to the person who knocked on his window.

osamu looks up, and watches as you walk around the car to get into the passenger seat.

he looks away quickly, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand — and yet he’s not quick enough, because you’re in the car now, and you’re turning his face to yours.

your face is pampered, proof of the effort you put into getting ready for your date, while osamu was in the car crying.

“i love you,” you whisper, and osamu shakes his head. you should be yelling at him, calling him pathetic. you should feel betrayed, for his lack of trust in you. “i love you.”

you say it again and again, over and over, until osamu is slumped in your arms, body trembling in your embrace. you whisper it into his ear, against his forehead, against his lips.

you repeat it, as your fingers rake through his hair, soothing him. you say it as a promise, as an oath.

“i see you, osamu. i understand how you feel, and we will get through it together. we will stand together, and i will not leave you behind.”

and you whisper that three-word-promise many, many more times, against his temples, along his arms and fingers, and into his hair.

when you spend your entire life believing that you could never be good enough, it’s nearly impossible to simply change that for someone who claims to believe otherwise.

but nearly impossible isn’t impossible, and you are determined to reveal the worth you know osamu holds, so that he may see it too.

#—joylovesyou #—joyisromantic #—joysministuffs #—joyfeelsbetter #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu comfort #haikyuu drabble #haikyuu drabbles #osamu #osamu miya #osamu fluff #osamu drabbles #osamu x reader #osamu angst #osamu comfort #ill add the headers later #theyre on my laptop

[joyaphoria]

kuroo at five y/o, @ohajime​​ (i was supposed to do it with 29, but i mixed it up with another one skjfd)

kuroo is nervous.

not about presenting, but about the presentation itself.

he isn’t afraid of getting up in front of the class, because his dad told him that kids his age can smell each others fear. as long as kuroo isn’t afraid, everyone will love him.

but his dad didn’t say anything about his presentation when he helped him practice, never said anything about what he thought. maybe he didn’t want to discourage him.

nevertheless, little kuroo’s mind is already made up. he’s been ready to do it for a long time now, and he’s a big boy; he isn’t afraid of anything.

well.. sorta.

“kuroo! it’s your turn.” his teacher calls out to him, and like the little cocky boy he is, kuroo gets up from his desk and shoves his hands into his pockets, walking towards the front of the class.

his friend whispers, “you can do this! she’ll love it.” and kuroo nods excitingly.

with his teachers help, kuroo places his giant poster board in front of the class, and takes a deep breath. “i chose the word: friends.”

the entire class claps to encourage him, and kuroo smiles even wider. “my older sister says that there are a lot of different kinds of friends. there are best friends, close friends, family friends, and even friend groups.”

he looks at his teacher, who nods in agreement.

“there are also friends that are called boyfriends and girlfriends.. they’re like special friends in love!”

the class goes ouu, while the teacher presses the back of her hand against her mouth, trying to hide her laugh.

kuroo’s eyes dart across the room, until they finally land on yours.

your eyes are wide and your cheeks are flustered as you stare at kuroo’s poster board, where he attempted to draw a stick figure of you, the words ‘can you be my special friend, y/n?’ written in big messy letters on top.

everyone’s eyes look to you, as you slowly say, “my daddy says that i can’t have a special friend until i’m 36.”

the class lets out a sad ‘aww..’ as you frown.

“i can wait until you’re 36!” kuroo shouts, his eyes glazed over, yet still furrowed in determination. “i can wait forever!”

the entire class goes ‘aww!’ again, but this time in a happy way, an ‘aww!’ that only gets louder when you nod, and get up to give kuroo a hug.

when kuroo went him that day and told his dad about what he did, his dad patted him on the back and told him that he would grow up into a ‘fine man’.

kuroo, with a missing front tooth and lips smeared with ice cream, replied with, “i’ll be y/n’s fine man!”

#—joylovesyou #—joysministuffs #—joyisromantic #haikyuu #haikyuu drabble #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu x reader #hq #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #kuroo #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo drabble #kuroo drabbles #kuroo x reader #kuroo fluff

[joyaphoria]

megumi at five, this one is for @m3gumiis​​ <33 (we’re pretending that gojo adopted megumi at five instead of six)

megumi has always considered himself to be brighter than most kids his age. of course, he’s always humble about it, unlike gojo, his good-for-nothing egotistical caregiver.

okay, maybe gojo is good for some things. little megumi just hopes that one of those things are advice, because if not, he might just write some very discouraging sentences on the seventeen mirrors in their house that gojo looks into daily.

be cool, gojo had said. girls like cool boys.

and who is five-year-old megumi to tell gojo that he’s wrong? with the amount of girls that gojo has coming and going in a week, megumi can’t do anything but assume that he’s right.

sweet talk her, but don’t make her think that you like her. 

but now that it’s snack time, and megumi is approaching your desk, he’s not sure if he wants you to think that he doesn’t like you.

“hi, y/n.” he says, his lips in a little pout.

you look up from your lunch bag, smile widening at the yakult that he’s extending towards you. “is this for me, megumi-kun?”

he nods, interlacing his fingers when you take it. “gojo-san bought a lot of them, so i have lots of extras.”

not exactly a lie. gojo did buy a lot, but only because megumi had begged him too; because he knows that they’re your favourite.

“thank you!” you giggle, having a sip of it.

megumi swings back and forth on the heels of his feet, bidding his time before he speaks up again. “you look really pretty today,” he says, running through what gojo said.

“thank you! you look really pretty too!”

megumi turns a shade of red and looks up at the ceiling, lips scrunching into a little pout, as he scratches the back of his neck. “but don’t think that i like you, or anything..”

okay, megumi is brighter than a majority of the kids his age, but a five y/o can only be so bright.

you frown, head tilting. “you don’t like me?”

megumi’s face turns an even brighter shade of red, and he fumbles over his words. “n-no! i mean, yes — b-but don’t think i do, because i don’t! i mean, i mean..”

your gaze softens, as your tiny hands clamp down on your mouth as you laugh at his helpless stuttering. “i think you do like me, megumi-kun.”

he shakes his head. “i-i don’t!”

“i think you do, because my mom says that when people like each other, they give them gifts! and this is the seventeenth yakult you’ve given me this month!”

megumi’s mouth drops. “you-you’ve been counting?”

now it’s your turn to get flustered, looking away from the gaping boy. “i-i mean, it’s yakult! of course i’m gonna remember it..”

megumi’s little face softens, a little toothy grin breaking through. “i think that you like me, y/n.”

and now it’s your turn to fall into a stuttering mess, just before the teacher gets up and lets the class know that snack time is over.

megumi turns around to head back to his desk, but first asks, “wanna play together during recess?” with a glimmer of hope twinkling in his eye.

and so when you smile and nod excitingly, megumi can’t help but break into a smile just as wide and extravagant as yours, before running back to his desk.

mission: accomplished.

gojo is about to get a real nasty message on each of his mirrors tonight.. and maybe one nice one — written on his wall, though; in sharpie.

#—joylovesyou #—joysministuffs #—joyisromantic #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk drabble #jjk drabbles #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen #megumi #megumi fushiguro #megumi fluff #kid megumi #megumi x reader #megumi drabbles #megumi drabble #gojo #gojo slander #THIS IS MY FAVE #AHH

[joyaphoria]

tw: hospitals

it’s 8:28 pm, and the world is quiet.

kiyoomi drags his feet against the sidewalk, trying to figure out where he is, and why it feels so familiar. god, if only you could see him right now, you would be so pissed. 

“kiyoomi,” he can almost hear you laughing. “stop dragging your feet; you’ll destroy your shoes.”

you were such a pain in his ass, but he knows better than to complain now. he knows to be grateful now, thankful for everything you’ve done.

“i’ve got bigger things to worry about than my shoes.”

he looks up from the sidewalk, two figures walking not much further ahead of him. when did they get there.. why do they sound so-

“excuse me.” the first figure turns around, meeting kiyoomi’s gaze. holy fuck, that’s him — well, younger him. “are you following us?”

the second figure stops, but kiyoomi already knows who it is before they turn around.

“omi, let’s just go.” you whisper, hands around younger-him’s forearm, trying to tug him away. “being on the same sidewalk as us, doesn’t mean he’s following us.”

holy shit, kiyoomi remembers this day; your makeup, your dress.. this is cruel, this is so fucking cruel.

“where are you guys off to?” kiyoomi asks, watching as younger him wraps a protective arm around your waist.

“a date,” you smile, slightly flustered at the arm now holding you.

a date, where kiyoomi is going to propose.

he remembers how you reacted, how you slumped in the restaurant booth and cried, and kiyoomi feared you would say no; except you stood up and kissed him, whispering, there’s nothing i want more than to spend the rest of my life with you.

“are you happy, with him?” kiyoomi asks, pointing to younger him.

you nod, giggling as you watch younger-him scowl at the question. “of course i am, i would never leave him.”

you would never leave him, yea.

“not on purpose,” current him — present him, whatever-you-want-to-call-it him — corrects. “you would never leave him on purpose.”

“what’s that supposed to-” younger him steps forward, under the streetlamp, eyes widening as the light shines on current-him’s face. “you’re me,” he whispers.

“i’m you,” older-him repeats, jaw tightening, before looking at younger-you.

just as beautiful as he remembers; just as sweet, just as vulnerable. “i miss you, y/n.” he whispers, not even bothering to hide his glazed-over eyes. “i miss you everyday, every moment, every hour. i never stop missing you, and it never stops hurting.”

“you, you miss me?” you whisper, as if the wheels in your brain are turning, trying to figure out why a grown man that looks like your boyfriend, is telling you that he misses you. “why would you miss me?”

“why would you miss her?” younger-him repeats, refusing to meet his eyes. kiyoomi is smart, and he’s always been smart. of course he knows what he’s implying.

“it never stops hurting,” he continues, before turning to younger-him. “but you learn, eventually. you learn how to cope with it, and how to live with it; you learn how to move on.. at least that’s what the doctors say.”

younger-him squeezes your hand, refusing to let go.

“just make the most of the time you have together,” kiyoomi nods, wiping away his tears on his sleeve. “make the most out of it.”

and then kiyoomi is awake, blinking to adjust to the bright lights of the hospital room. a little disoriented, he stands up, walking over to the bed in the center of the room.

still unresponsive.

“y/n,” he whispers, taking your cold hand into his own. “i had a dream, a memory — of the day i proposed to you.”

your eyes remain fixed on the ceiling, still no sign of his wife inside this lifeless body.

“the doctors said that you aren’t coming back,” he chokes, pressing his lips into a thin line. “that i should pull the plug.”

no response on your end, no movement at all. 

kiyoomi gasps for air as a sob rips through his body, his tears falling onto your intwined fingers. “i’m being selfish, holding onto you. i know you aren’t coming back, but i can’t let you go, i can’t.”

he shakes his head, body trembling as he weeps, bringing up your hand for him to nuzzle his face against it. “i love you, i love you so much. you deserve to move on, to whatever is on the other side.”

a part of him believes that you’re still in there, but when you don’t respond, the hope evaporates into nothing.

kiyoomi cries for the rest of the night, praying for any kind of stability he may need in order to make his decision tomorrow.

it never gets better, and it never stops hurting — but kiyoomi can only hope that the doctors are right, and that he’ll learn how to live without you.

#—joylovesyou #—joysministuffs #—joyscrybabies #haikyuu #haikyuu angst #haikyuu drabble #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu comfort #haikyuu x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa #sakusa angst #sakusa x reader #sakusa drabble #tw: death #tw: hospital #haikyuu imagine #i didnt proofread #so if it doesnt make sense #pretend it does #im tired

[joyaphoria]

it’s 2:31 am, and sakusa is in doubt.

he’s sitting up and watching you, your naked body snuggled up in the covers, that at some point in the night, had been his body. you were at some point, cuddling with him, your bare bodies pressed against one another.

but now, he’s not so sure.

the late night — or, very early morning — uncertainties are creeping up on him again, plaguing his mind in a thick fog that can never seem to clear up, at least not permanently.

sakusa wonders if he’s thinking too loud, if you’re going to wake up and catch him in his hesitation, catch him wondering if he should be with you; if he should be in a relationship. 

he wonders if you’re ever going to realize how he tenses when you say that you love him, or if you’re ever going to realize that maybe he’s just not cut out for long-term things.

he wonders if you’re ever going to catch him in uncertainty, when he says that he loves you too. he wonders if you’re going to realize that he has too much baggage, too many issues for you to bear with him.

he wonders if you’re going to pack your bags and leave, because of those issues.

and almost as if he really was thinking too loud, you stir in your sleep, your eyes slowly opening as you look up at him. “omi?” your voice is hazy, so tender and sweet. kiyoomi wonders if he deserves it, the fondness you hold for him.

“yeah?” he whispers back, looking away from you, because he knows that it only takes one look to end this entire thing; one look into his eyes, and you’ll know everything that he would protect with his life.

everything that he would keep to himself, the things he would hold in, if only it meant that he could stay here — stay in your bed, and watch you sleep carefree, without having to bear the weight of his problems.

“look at me, omi.” you whisper, your voice clearing up as you come to.

sakusa wonders what the point was — asking him to look at you — when you didn’t give him much of a choice anyways, reaching up to cup his face and turn it towards you.

you can see the soft glint of tears streaming down his face, and tears that had already dried, their soft little imprint a reminder that even sakusa kiyoomi — proffesional volleyball player and master of hiding his emotions — can cry.

“you know that i love you, right?” you question, watching as his adams apple bobs, and he swallows a lump in his throat, before nodding. “and no matter what, i will always love you.”

and there’s something about the way you said ‘you’, as if sakusa will always be the only person you hold dear, and there’s something about the way you said ‘no matter what’, as if you already knew.

as if you knew what sakusa was going through, as if you remembered all the other nights this happened, where he dare thought about leaving you, and you still loved him through it all.

it’s something about the way you said everything, that makes him wonder if maybe this time, the fog might clear up for a little longer. maybe this time, the fog might hold out for a bit, and maybe you wont get tired of him after all.

maybe you’ll stay, maybe he’ll stay, and even though the fog might come back — because it will — you’ll help him fight it, so that one day, sakusa kiyoomi will never know fog again, 

not unless its outside, and he’s watching you re-enact a horror movie through it all.

#—joylovesyou #—joysministuffs #—joyscrybabies #—joyfeelsbetter #—joyisromantic #sakusa x reader #sakusa #sakusa comfort #sakusa drabbles #sakusa fluff #sakusa kiyoomi #haikyuu #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu comfort #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #i shed a tear writing this holy shit #this better be as good #as i think it is #damnit #i tried to make it fluff #but its comfort #sorry #tw: intrusive thoughts #tw: commitment issues

[joyaphoria]

this has gotta be the most domestic wholesome thing ive ever written.. nd gojo..

its 7:46 am, and the smell of bacon fills the kitchen.

creeping down the stairs and into the kitchen, your heart warms as you watch your husband in front of the stove, wearing an apron over his bare chest, and a pair of sweatpants.

“mm,” you moan, sauntering over and wrapping your arms around gojo from behind. “looks like daddy is cooking,” you whisper, pulling back a bit to rub at your growing belly.

gojo chuckles, the vibrations of his chest comforting to you. “i can get used to that, you know.”

your brow quirks up as he turns off the stove, removing his apron and slowly turning around to face you. he takes your arms and wraps them around his neck, before moving his hands to hug your waist and pull you flush against his body.

“get used to what?” you tilt your head, as he brings his forehead to rest against yours, the golden sunlight faintly caressing his face through the thin white curtains.

his blue eyes look almost aquamarine in the morning sun.

“you, calling me daddy.” he winks, moving his hands to squeeze greedily at your ass, before lightly slapping one of the cheeks.

scowling, you push him off, but he quickly captures your waist from behind, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

sensitive and ticklish, you fold over, craning your neck to try and deny him access. he folds over you, his body a perfect mold against yours, as he peppers the other side of your neck in an illegal amount of chaste kisses.

“ah! you seein this, baby? your daddy is attackin me!” you scream, as you manage to free yourself from his captivity, running as he chases you around the island countertop.

gojo gasps, clutching his chest as if he were offended. “don’t say such devious things! i would never lay a hand on you, mommy, unless we just so happen to be.. wrestling.”

your eyes widen playfully, placing a hand on either side of your increasing belly. “not in front of the baby!”

“you didn’t seem to think about covering their ears last night.” he winks, catching you off guard as he jumps onto the counter, sliding to your side and grabbing you.

“satoru!” you laugh, as he continues to terrorize your neck with his kisses.

“let’s go back to bed, mommy. daddy needs your love too.” he teases, picking you up and throwing you gently over his shoulder, making his way to the stairs.

“but what about the bacon! you’re gonna let me starve? i doubt you truly love me.”

chuckling, gojo retreats back to the kitchen, slowly placing you in a chair around the island, kissing your temple softly.

“i will never give you a reason to doubt my love for you, and i will be sure that as we raise our little one, together,” he whispers, getting on his knees to place a kiss on your belly, “that they too, will know that their daddy loves their mommy, unconditionally.”

#—joylovesyou #—joysministuffs #—joyisromantic #jjk #jjk fluff #jjk drabble #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen #gojo fluff #gojo drabbles #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk x reader #gojo #gojo satoru

[joyaphoria]

tw: death.

9:56 pm, and the world is ending; suna’s world, at least.

his eyes are closed, because he can’t look. if he looks, it becomes real. if he opens his eyes — if he let’s them trail to you, bleeding out on his lap — then he has to accept it.

“rin,”

but he’s weak to you, so weak, that he pries them open, the regret flowing in too quick to process.

“no running, remember?” you whisper, a cold hand reaching up to cup his cheek. right, no running, because you knew; you knew he was doing just that.

running from things doesn’t mean they won’t chase you, he remembers you saying to him. you’re better off facing them head on.

what was he supposed to say — what was he supposed to do? 

sit and watch the love of his life bleed to death on his lap?

“you’re beautiful.” you mumble, head slightly tilting as you brush away the hair hanging over his face, now revealing the traitorous tears making their way down his cheek, collecting at his jaw.

“please,” he croaks — it’s torture, listening to you speak.

it’s torture, because he knows, he knows, it’s the last he’ll ever hear of it. so many things he can now only dream of hearing you say, because you need to reserve your final breaths for the important ones; the ones that suna will need, to get through without you.

“i wouldn’t go back, i wouldn’t change anything.” you admit, a bittersweet grin erupting across your face, filling the — quickly fading — light in your eyes. “i would do it all again, because if not, i wouldn’t have gotten to be with you.”

his jaw sets, even as his face crumbles into something far from ‘beautiful’, a visible effort at containing the sobs and wails that were bound to wreck his body, bound to tune out the words you needed to say to him. 

he couldn’t afford to cry right now.

“you’re dying, because of me — because you got to be with me,” and there it is, the — not so — elephant in the room. the acknowledgement of it, the acceptance. this was all real now, wether or not it had been from the beginning.

“don’t do that,” you scold him, so typical of you to berate suna, even as death drawls your name.

“don’t you ever feel guilty for that, not now, and not ever.” you reassure him, tucking yet another strand of his hair away as it falls again, his tear stained cheeks glowing in the faint light of the moon. “it is, and will forever be my decision, for as many times as i can get to start over.”

i chose you once, and ill choose you again.

“you swore, you swore you would never leave me.” suna curses, his fists balling at his sides in shame, in fear. you were slipping, you were being taken from him; he can feel it.

“i know.”

“you promised you would stay, that you would love me.”

“i do love you.”

but it’s not enough, he almost yells, just loving me, isn’t enough.

he watches your breath catch, watches as you inhale deeply, trying to fight for any remaining air that could be spared. it’s watching you become desperate for oxygen — a basic human right — that does him in.

he grasping you tightly, cradling you in his arms like a small child that needs protecting. “you can’t leave me, you can’t go.” he whimpers, nuzzling his face into the side of your neck.

you nod. “we’ll meet again, i promise,” is what you can respond with, as he watches your chest rise and fall, once, twice.. before it stops. before suna slumps, the promise of : tears coming to stake their claim.

he doesn’t doubt your promise — not for one second, because your soul will always find its way back to him, and his, to yours.

#—joylovesyou #—joysministuffs #—joyscrybabies #—joyisromantic #haikyuu #haikyuu angst #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu drabble #suna #suna rintarou #suna angst #suna drabbles #suna x reader #suna twitter #suna imagines