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zmbiesuga · 7 months

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TWENTY TWENTY VISION — m. atsumu x gn!reader

sypnosis: atsumu needs glasses, but why on earth would he make his & your life easier by wearing them?

warnings: i'm gonna beat the shit out of atsumu oh my GOD he irks me so bad, post-timeskip atsumu, eensy bit of angst if you squint super super hard, osamu mention, i can't write the miya accent™ for the life of me but i tried so sorry, petnames such as baby used, he calls the reader pretty

notes: inspired by the fact that i just recently got my new glass and haven't had a pair since i was 14 so seeing the world focused fucks with me a lil bit, ALSO, atsumu with glasses has been flooding my brain, osamu is farsighted cause i said so

"I'm not wearin' 'em."

"Atsumu, please, you need to wear them, you have astigmatism in both of your eyes! And you're nearsighted!"

Atsumu lets out a soft huff as he crosses his arms, as if he isn't the reason you've been having this argument essentially since you brought up him even getting his eyes checked.

It all started when Osamu had gotten new glasses, that's what Atsumu thinks anyways, that this is all stupid Samu's fault.

Osamu came over one afternoon for a harmless visit, with new glasses on. You had asked Osamu about them, and commented that you never knew he needed glasses to which he responded:

"Oh yeah, me and Tsumu both do, he just hasn't worn his since junior high."

You swear you've never seen Atsumu react so quickly, his head snapping to Osamu and immediately telling him to shut up through gritted teeth. The subject gets dropped instantly, but now you're giving Atsumu side-glances throughout the night until Osamu leaves.

After you two are settled into bed and Atsumu is almost asleep, until your voice rings out in the dark.

"Is that why you squint so much?" you ask in a voice barely above a whisper.

"...What are ya on about?" Atsumu asks, turning to face you with a soft expression.

"Is that why you squint so much?" you ask again, "Because you don't wear glasses like you're supposed to, so the world's all unfocused for you all the time, is that why?"

Atsumu's silence and stunned expression is all the answer you need.

"That's what I thought," you mumble before turning away from him, "your eye appointment is Saturday at four."

And that puts Atsumu where he is now, sitting at the island connected to the kitchen in your small apartment, staring down the thick black lenses as if he was trying to explode them with his mind.

"I said, I ain't wearin' 'em," he huffs again vehemently, looking at you with an unwilling expression, "and that's final. I don't need no stupid glasses, I can see just fine."

"Oh yeah?" you challenge, palms resting against the island as you stand on the opposite side of it, "If you don't need your glasses, read the paper on our fridge. Without squinting."

Atsumu's face goes a little pale, his eyes widening slightly. He looks over your shoulder at the paper held onto the fridge with a stupid magnet in the shape of a volleyball.

"It, uh..." he trails off, trying to not squint as much as possible, "...it...it doesn't matter what it says! I'm still not wearin' those glasses! I don't need 'em!"

"Atsumu that paper is no more than four feet away from you, and you can't even tell me what the bolded title says," you responded in an almost pleading tone, "baby, you need your glasses, so I am begging you, please put them on."

Atsumu's face softens slightly at your pleading voice, before it turns unwilling again as he looks down at his arms and mumbles something you can't quite make out.

"What was that?" you ask.

"...They make me look dumb," he repeats a little louder, looking back up at you, "they make me look like an idiot, and since my eyes aren't used to being focused, I feel like a baby deer learnin' how to walk."

"Tsumu," you reply gently, your own expression softening, "if you didn't like the way glasses look, why didn't you ask for contacts?"

"Because they scare me," he rebuttals, "which I know is stupid because they're an easy solution to my problem, but they rip and get stuck and...I don't know, that just scares me."

You stare at him blankly before taking a deep breath, "Atsumu," you start, "I'm not...trying to make you look stupid, okay? I just know that you need them, and you know that too. It might be awkward at first, but won't it be worth it to see the world a little more clearer? So you won't have to squint to read traffic signs or drive through menus? And, glasses aren't a permanent solution, we can work our way up to contacts, but you need to wear these for now."

Atsumu looks down at the glasses again, letting out another unsure sigh as he picks the thick rims up, and places them on his face.

It's weird at first, everything is clearer. The titanium fridge, that stupid volleyball magnet and the paper it holds, and more importantly...

You.

The way your entire face shifts into focus leaves Atsumu speechless. He knows how pretty you are, he doesn't need glasses to see it, but god do they make it better.

You give Atsumu a weird look, "What?" you ask puzzled, "Can you see better?"

"Yeah," he responds with a small smile, "I can see real good, pretty."

#love letters from leo #my dearest haikyuu #atsumu x gn!reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu drabble #atsumu fluff #haikyuu x gn!reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq x reader #hq x gn!reader #hq fluff #haikyuu drabble #hq drabble #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu miya x gn!reader #atsumu miya drabble #atsumu miya fluff #wear your glasses or contacts kids

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toorurs · 1 month

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oh baby, just leave the scent of your cologne. it’s early in the morning and you know that he has to go to work, but you just can't help but be greedy. eagerly grasping for his wrist, as you beg him not to leave yet and just stay for another five minutes. your voice is laced with morning drowsiness and the grip you have on his wrist is sluggish - nevertheless your eyes are full of determination to not let him go and keep him by your side. he's grown accustomed to your little antics now, it's basically become a habit for the both of you to laze in bed a bit longer. but who is he to complain - after all how could he resist you when you pepper wet kisses along his collarbone up to his jaw while inhaling his musky scent. at this point his hair and clothes have become disheveled, but it’s so worth it.

REO MIKAGE, jing yuan, RAFAYEL, aventurine, atsumu, michael kaiser, GOJO SATORU + your favs !

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beangfrisky · 1 year

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round three

singledad!atsumu thinks about his pretty neighbor night and day weeks after she’s moved in. constantly brainstorming ways to go and say hi or invite you over

singledad!atsumu falls asleep on the couch one morning and his baby girl sneaks out of the house to go visit you. you offer to make her a hot chocolate and sit in your back yard together. a few minutes later atsumu shrieks inside his house and frantically calls his daughter

singledad!atsumu sighs in relief when he opens his back door to see you pointing at her sitting on your back doorstep. he laughs it off and joins the two of you while he lectures his daughter about leaving the house alone

singledad!atsumu quickly feels less panicked as you giggle at his jokes. you offer to make him a hot chocolate too but he declines and insists you sit and enjoy yours. the three of you listen to the birds chirping and spend the morning talking together

singledad!atsumu reluctantly gets up to leave when his brother calls to tell him they’re late for family time. he laughs and apologizes for having to leave so soon. his brother will kill him if he doesn’t get to spend time with his niece

one two

#uncle osamu anyone???? this man would be the best role model #and baby girl loves seeing her dad and brother argue #she thinks its hilarious #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu headcanons #atsumu x reader #atsumu fluff #atsumu imagines #haikyuu x reader #miya atsumu

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hqkalon · 11 months

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men who lean down towards you to listen about what you have to say because of the height difference, but also does it because he loves seeing you get flustered by such a simple gesture.

yes, i am projecting rn .

#gojo x reader #atsumu x reader #kuroo x reader #toji x reader #jjk x reader #hq x reader #love my men yall !!#scripts .📃

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haztory · 3 months

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['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!!!!!!

#miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #atsumu #atsumu fic #i love a best friends trope wtf #also i promise i was writing my boss kuroo fic and then i heard this song and was derailed for THREE DAYS #BIG THANK YOU BY THE WAY TO MY BETA

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foxhouse · 3 months

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rewatching haikyuu recently…

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215-luv · 2 years

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HQ BOYS WHEN YOU PULL THEM BY THEIR BELT/BELT LOOP

SUNA: a deep yelp comes from his lips, the usual bored look he had on his eyes now replaced with shock as his hands naturally lands to the nearest surface, trapping you in his arms. with his face now inches closer to yours, he looks down at you, the tension between you two now rising. he raises an eyebrow with curiosity in his eyes as his deep voice flows through your ears, “hm, what’s going on in that little head of yours, bun?”

KUROO: a startled expression etches on his face, not expecting you to do such a bold action. although, he’s quick to recover from his shock as he shoots you a cocky grin, letting his hand fall to rest on your hip. “what’s this, kitten? if you needed me, you could’ve just said so yourself.” he chuckles, “but this,” his eyes then wander down to where you were holding his belt, “this is probably much better.”

ATSUMU: literally gasps out loud in shock, “oh SHIT you- you really just did that huh?” he curses, trying his best to compose himself although he’s actually a stuttering mess. with a deep inhale, he lets his hands find their place on your hips as he looks down at you with a certain look on his eyes, clearing his throat. “are we gonna make out or..?”

IWAIZUMI: he looks down at you, surprised. letting an eyebrow raise as if he’s asking for you to explain what was that for. however, with that look on your eye, iwaizumi swore something had bursted inside him that lead him unable to restrain himself as he slowly slithers his arm around your waist, the action sending you shivers through your spine while you watch as he reaches your hand that was holding his belt, raising it to let it rest on his shoulder. he chuckles under his breath while he keeps eye contact with you, “god, you really don’t know what you’re doing to me, do you?”

SAKUSA: both his eyebrows shoot upwards and his body freezes momentarily. you watch as his eyes looks at you with shock written upon them. he could barely let out a steady statement as his breath wavers, “..w-what.. what are you doing?”

OIKAWA: “okay, so, remember when iw— AH! OH MY GOD!” he screeches out dramatically when you unexpectedly pull him by his belt and his heart runs in laps. he looks at you with shock as you only shoot him an innocent smile. “sweetie, what was that for?!” he lets a hand hover his chest as you giggle, about to give him an answer when he adds, “but that was kinda hot though..”

YAMAGUCHI: a high pitched yelp comes from his lips and he stares at you with wide eyes, a flush creeping across his cheeks. never have you seen your boyfriend look so embarrassed and surprised your whole life that you had to let out a laugh, your reaction worsening the blush on his cheeks as he holds the wrist of your hand that was holding his belt. “H-Honey.. S-Stop..”

KITA: when you pull him by his belt, he let’s out a tiny oh, peering at you with curiosity. smh innocent bb. he gives you a look that encourages you to explain what you did, but somehow, inside him, he thought it kinda felt nice to have you pull him towards you that way.

KENMA: he tenses. it honestly never crosses his mind once that you would ever do the action of pulling him towards you by his belt—the gesture so unexpected that it leaves him a blushing mess. his body freezes in place and you watch as he looks at you with wide eyes. “(y-y/n).. what was that..?”

KAGEYAMA: he really went “oh shit” as soon as he feels that force on his hip—not expecting you to suddenly pull him in that way. his eyebrows raises in surprise while his head tilts in confusion, not sure what to expect when you’re innocently looking at him in the eye. and he blinks, “uh. hi?”

ASAHI: “AH!” he lets out a yelp that could possibly be heard up to the second floor. he looks back and forth from your face then down to where your hand connects to his belt, letting him compose himself for a few moments as he freezes in place. his eyes widens and he stammers like crazy. “S-Sweetheart.. What- What did you just do..?”

USHIJIMA: both his eyebrows raise upon the sudden pull of force on his hip area. he looks down at you as he holds a potted plant on his hand. you watch as he blinks down at you, as if looking for any answers through whatever emotion your face has on. you let him place his plotted plant on the nearest surface and he faces you, holding your hand that was on his belt as he raises it to his chest, letting his thumb softly rub on to your soft skin. “is there anything you need, honey? you can tell me anything.”

MATTSUN: when you pull him by his belt, he lets shock overcome him, both his eyebrows shooting upward. and yet, that shock is quickly replaced by a smirk as he looks down to where your hand is holding his belt. he lets out a deep “oh?” with a certain glint on his eye that deeply intensifies your need for him.

BOKUTO: “AH! WHAT AR—wait what’s this all about baby?” his mood alters in the quickest because one moment his eyes were widened like saucers and now he’s peering down at you with expectation. and you’re starting to think he’s just realizing how much he likes the way you pull him to you by his belt. you could see the blush appearing on his cheeks as he scratches the back of his neck bashfully—a rare thing to be seen from the bokuto kotaro. and he suggests cheekily, “you know.. maybe you should do this more often.. hehe.”

AKAASHI: he lets out the softest gasp from his lips as his widened eyes wander down to where your hand grasps onto his belt, and his mind really goes ‘oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god-’ but then he scratches that by clearing his throat, trying his all to keep his composure while barely managing to keep eye contact with you. “w-what is it you need, honey..?”

#requested by anon!#special shoutout to anon who suggested this <3 ily baby i hope you love this #haikyuu x reader #suna x reader #kuroo x reader #iwaizumi x reader #atsumu x reader #sakusa x reader #oikawa x reader #yamaguchi x reader #ushijima x reader #bokuto x reader #asahi x reader #akaashi x reader #kita x reader #kenma x reader #kageyama x reader #mattsukawa x reader

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emmyrosee · 7 months

Text

I just like the smell of men’s body wash and it’s my hubby’s birthday 🥺🩷

—-

There’s a smell from the shower that Atsumu’s not used to, unless he’s in it.

On the outside, it smells like citrus and cedar, but there’s also a tinge that can only be classified as ‘the color blue’ as it circles the air around him. He furrows his brows as he lets his feet follow down the hall, into the bedroom, and right in front of the bathroom door.

You’re using his body wash.

The sound of the shower is still pattering loud as you scrub away, the music on your phone mingling with the shower water and the smell of his body wash seeping from under the door with the humidity of steam.

He smiles and bites his lip softly.

You’re using his body wash.

You’ve been together only for a few months, the necessity of keeping certain hygiene products being more important the more you spend the nights together.

And tonight, it seems like you’re more than content to use his.

It’s a few minutes after he snaps himself out of his trance, he hears the water stop, then your music pauses, and he has to fix up a facade that he wasn’t just standing outside of your shower, sniffing.

“Hey baby,” he says, pulling off his shirt with the least amount of nonchalance. “How was your shower?”

He hides a snicker as you glare at him, only in his boxers and a stretched out tee shirt.

“I hate your freaking 17-in-1 crap,” you grumble, sitting on the bed to slip on your socks. He says nothing, merely grinning as he watches you go about your routine. “Frying the ends of my hair, drying my skin. Next time we go out we’re splurging shampoo and conditioner and a good body wash.”

“You still used it though.”

“Yeah, because I ran out of my stuff that I keep here.” You say it as if your cheeks aren’t heating up before his eyes, and your hands aren’t shaking suddenly with the discussion. “You should just have good stuff then.”

Atsumu chuckles, then moves over to your perch on the bed. He takes the hands from your sock and gently kisses your knuckles, eyes fixated on yours. “I was just touching my feet,” you snort.

“Yeah; I also walk into the bathroom when you’re peeing. Transitive property, I’m still gross.”

You let out a string of laughter and lean down to meet his lips for a kiss, and he moves a hand to gently cup the back of your head to cradle you close.

When you pull away, he nudges his nose with yours, “maybe you should keep your good stuff here.”

“Or we should get you good stuff-“

“But I want yours.”

“Then we’ll buy mine-“

“I’m asking if you want to move in with me freak show,” he groans, immediately shifting to stand up and pin you to the bed, fingers tickling wildly while you kick and scream, swatting his hands away. “You gotta make every little thing a process don’t you-“

“Yes!” You squeal, and he pauses to ask you which one you’re saying yes too-

Only for you to kick him square in the gut.

And that’s exactly how atsumu wanted to spend the night he asked you to move in with him; trapped in the ER with a fractured rib.

But hey; at least you were the to take care of him.

And you never left.

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