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amjustagirl · 17 days ago
Tug of war 
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pairing: miya atsumu x f!reader  genre: fluff, minor angst  warnings: none  wc: 3k+
m.list.~ taglist.~
a/n: haven’t been here in a while cos i’m still finishing my kita longfic (it’s coming along, i’ll be back soonish!) so i thought i’d drop this fic in the meantime :) this fic is a combination of the requests i got for my milestone event - (atsumu, declaration of love, childhood/best friends to lovers, argument) 
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You meet Miya Atsumu when you move to Hyogo at the age of four. 
He and his brother greet you with dirt streaked faces, and you realise they’re the irrepressible Miya twins your neighbours whispered to your parents about. Twin terrors, half-feral, tearing up the neighbourhood with their mischief, driving the more judgmental neighbours to madness. You hear about a prank involving frogs and torn pink dresses, another neighbour swears she came home to see both boys hanging upside down from the tree in her front yard. Your parents should have kept you away from them but you’re their only child, more inclined to savagery than dainty tea parties, so they let you run wild, run smack into them on the playground. 
“I wanna play with you”, you shout defiantly, ducking under the slides to chase after them. 
Osamu agrees almost immediately. He’s sweeter than his twin, politer too, but Atsumu only groans. 
“A girl’s just gonna slow us down”, he whines loudly, sticking his tongue at you. 
“I’d beat you in a race”, you challenge as his eyes narrow. 
“Deal”, he answers, flying off immediately as you screech at how unfair he bloody well is. 
You lose to him, of course, and you keep losing until Osamu gets tired of your bickering and just includes you in all their games of tag and pranks anyway. You thank him with biscuits that your mama made, and instantly win his grubby little heart. 
Atsumu still resents your presence, resents the fact that his dynamic duo has now become a trio. His snarls at you are a little more restrained but he still preens whenever he outruns you, compares you to a gremlin unkindly. Still, you are undeterred.  
You pull him towards you, he pushes you away. That’s just how things go. 
He sneers at you, calls you a useless little girl despite Osamu and you ganging up to pummel him into the ground, attitude unchanged until he breaks the heads off your favourite dolls when he and Osamu pop over to play. Osamu asks shyly if you could hold a tea party with him. You know him well enough by then to discern that he just wants an excuse to stuff his face with the pastries and cookies your okaa-san made, but you oblige him anyway, seating your dolls around him in a solemn half circle. 
He holds your gaze when he snaps their plastic heads off, expects you to shriek and cry, call for your okaa-san, vow never to play with him again. Instead, there’s a gleam in your eye that sparks sudden fear, so much so that he barely registers the flash of a chubby fist until it slams into his cheek. 
“Tsumu, jus’ admit she got ya good”, Osamu remarks, amused at how his brother thrashes and kicks to no avail. 
“Never!” he yelps, squashed beneath you, cheeks burning at the indignity of being pinned down and sat on by a little girl his own age. 
You yank at his hair. “Never?” you question sweetly, fingers digging into his sides, Osamu cackling as Atsumu squeals like a pig. “You wanna admit you lost now?” 
Atsumu will never forget having to bow and apologise out loud to each maligned now-headless doll.
It’s a game of tug of war - you’ve won the first round. 
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Your parents enrol you in the same elementary school, the same middle school, and out of habit you apply to Inarizaki High with your boys. Your restless energy gets channelled into student council and your studies, while the boys fall head over heels for volleyball, though you suspect Osamu’s true love will always be food. They spend hours trying to achieve the impossible, resisting the gravity of polished wooden floors in an attempt to fly. 
Still, you refuse to allow them to grow distant from you. You wait in the library until their practice ends, walking back with either or both of them. You kick their shins over bowls of steaming rice and curry to remind them about homework, begrudgingly allow them to peek at your assignments. You credit your tutoring skills with the fact that they managed to pass their classes despite their brains being filled with nothing but volleyball (and food, in ‘Samu’s case). 
Osamu reciprocates, ruffles your hair, packs you delicious bentos, tells you you’re the sibling he wished he had. You punch his shoulder, pinch his cheek, matching grin on your face. Atsumu on the other hand bickers and teases, doesn’t treat you any more than his annoying childhood friend. He wheedles you into not marking him late for class despite oversleeping half the days of the term, complains when you slap the back of his head for being rude to his fangirls and refuses to lend you his jacket when it gets chilly. 
It doesn’t even register to Atsumu that you are a girl until the Matsuri festival at the end of your first year of high school. It’s a tradition you’ve had - attending the summer festival as a trio, stop Osamu from spending all his pocket money on takoyaki and yakisoba, scout for the best spot to watch fireworks. 
But this time, your mother insisted you wear a yukata since you’re a young lady now. You listen to your mother for once. It’s a simple garment, pastel blue with pink sakura print, but it’s such a departure from your usual attire of a blouse and shorts that Atsumu’s brain short circuits when you first appear. 
You’re pretty - his traitorous mind notes, even as you complain that the long skirt impedes your movements. 
“Yer wearin’ a skirt” he manages to choke out, minutes later. 
“I wear a skirt in school”, you point out impatiently. “Shut your mouth, you’ll catch flies - race ya to the shrine, loser has to buy mochi for the winner!”
You take off.  Atsumu loses a race for the first time. Osamu merely chuckles to himself when he watches his brother’s brain fry itself to a crisp when you hike up your skirt to scale a tree later that night.  
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If it’s a game of tug of war, he finally figures out that he has a rope in his hands in the second year of high school. 
You shriek at him when he and Osamu turn up on your front step with dyed hair. They merely laugh at you. Laugh’s on them - mere hours later, you corner Atsumu in his bathroom waving expensive shampoo and conditioner threateningly, forcing him to sit on a stool between your legs as you wash his hair. You insist he goes first, trusting Osamu more not to flee into the night. 
“Waste of money”, you grumble, rubbing shampoo into his hair. “Just cos’ you wanna look good to your fangirls -” 
“Aww, are ya jealous”, he teases, yelping as you yank at his hair roughly. 
“Don’t you call them squealin’ pigs, you nasty boy”, you reply flatly. “I know you too well - you just wanted to look cool without thinking it through.” 
“Ya admit I look cool like this!” he crows, preening until you tug his ear, muttering more complaints under your breath. 
It’s nice, for the lack of a better word, he supposes, turning to contemplate the situation he’s found himself in. It’s not unfamiliar - the three of you have taken baths together for most of elementary school, but it’s different. He’s positioned between your legs, the soft skin of your thighs warm against the sides of his arms, and he nearly moans aloud when you run your fingers through his hair, rake your nails against his scalp. 
He doesn’t say thank you when you’re done with him, just breathlessly asks if you’ll do it again for him. 
“You’re shameless”, you snort helplessly, asking him to call his brother in for his turn. 
“Is that a yes?” he asks, the funny feeling in his stomach blooming when you mumble a begrudging fine, and tell him that you’ll come around again next week, spoilt brat. 
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That same funny feeling in his belly erupts into a storm when he overhears Kita complimenting you for helping the volleyball club get the practice schedule he’d applied for, growling when he hears you giggle and reply breathlessly that you’re just doing your job as the secretary of the student council. 
He corners you after practice. “D’ya think Kita-san is good looking?” 
You look at him like he’s grown a third head. Handsome Kita Shinsuke is the talk of all the girls in school, and some of the boys. You’re not blind to his attractiveness. 
“Yes”, you answer without hesitation, tacking on a sly - “of course!” 
“Whaddya mean!” he shouts indignantly, stomping his foot as you dash away laughing. 
Osamu just rolls his eyes, drags him by the back of his jacket back home. 
“Ya should just tell her how ya feel”, he says, munching on a pork bun he snagged on the way home. 
“Don’t know what yer talkin’ about”, Atsumu snaps, kicking at a pebble viciously.  
“Whatever you say”, Osamu replies, shrugging. His smile only grows as Atsumu sulks his way through dinner, only perking up when you barge into his room the next morning to shout at him for oversleeping for school yet again. 
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He falls ill with a cold and is sent home unceremoniously by Kita. He hates missing any practice, even if he’s feeling unwell, but he can’t overrule his captain so he heads home. 
Osamu must have texted you, because half an hour later, you shimmy through his bedroom window, running a cool hand over his forehead before you even say hello. 
“Stupid boy”, he hears you say, watches you with bleary eyes as you grab a cold tower to press against his hot cheeks. “Should’ve stayed home if you were so ill.”
“Wanted to play”, he mumbles, shifting to lay his head on your lap. It’s the best pillow in the world, he thinks. 
“Of course you did”, you say fondly, combing your fingers through his hair, the familiar action settling his heavy breath. 
“Stay with me?” he asks, as sleep overcomes him. 
“Always”, you whisper, when you’re sure he’s fast asleep. 
He feels much better when he wakes, especially when you’re still there, head drooping, the book you were reading long forgotten over your snores. It feels right to brush his thumb over your cheek, tuck your hair tenderly behind the shell of your ear. 
He’s starting to decipher how he feels about you. He learns to tug gradually at the rope, wants to tug you over, claim his prize. 
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But Atsumu is a dolt. He assumes that you’ll always have his back, be firmly by his side, and doesn't understand that he is soon reaching a crossroads where it’s all too easy for you to slip away. He’s single minded in his pursuit of throwing the ball into the sun, so the third year comes and goes, you’re still just his childhood best friend. 
You don’t say anything because it’s Atsumu. 
“You can confess to him if you like”, you say flatly when yet another one of his fangirls pester you for advice. “But don’t cry if he turns you down. He only cares for volleyball right now.”
You assume the same applies to you - and that even if he’d be interested in love, he’d be blind to you as he’s always been. It’s easier that way than to swallow down the bitter taste of disappointment. You’d rather spare yourself and your friendship that. Besides, you too are busy with club activities, homework, university applications - because like Atsumu and Osamu, you need to figure out what to do with your life. 
The dam breaks when Osamu declares he isn’t following his brother to turn pro. 
Atsumu yells, Osamu remains resolute. 
Hell, they even brawled during school hours, the hapless Ginjima sprinting over to collect you in the hopes that you could break the fight up, Suna just chortling and continuing to film when you roll your sleeves up, hop right into the fray. Your childhood repeats itself - you push Osamu back, whilst you sit yourself down on Atsumu, but you forget he’s six foot tall and you’re very much not, so he pushes you off, the fight continuing until one of them (they’re still fighting who’s truly responsible) elbows you hard in the stomach, and you fall back, winded. 
They both freeze, staring at you as you slowly rise to your feet, your expression dark and angry. 
“You guys are both IDIOTS!” you roar, resisting the urge to stomp your feet. “Go sort yourselves out like adults for once!” 
Then you storm off, and refuse to speak to either of them until they apologise. 
Osamu expresses his remorse with your favourite cream puffs, which you accept with a smile and a tweak of his nose. Atsumu on the other hand, mumbles his apologies with a nervous bob of his throat, a boyish smile breaking across his face when you punch his chest lightly, calling him silly, like you always do. 
His reaction to his brother’s decision should have clued you in to how he’d explode when he finds out you’re not following him and ‘Samu to Osaka, like you originally intended to. 
“What?” he hisses, hurt written all over his face when you tell him that you’ve accepted a place to study in Tokyo, the best university for the course you’d had your eye on all throughout high school. 
“You should be happy for me”, you state bluntly, hands on hips, thoroughly unimpressed by his attitude. 
“I thought ya were gonna stick with us, head down to Osaka together like we always planned”, he snarls. 
You recognise the four year old boy who broke your dolls out of spite. It would be easy to slap him, shock him to his senses, but you’re not sure if you truly want to anymore. Perhaps you shouldn’t rub salt in his already festering wound, but it’s been years and you are sick and tired of his greed, his need to grab and grasp even if you too, are in the wrong by breaking your promise to him. 
You deserve to put yourself first. 
“You’re fucking selfish, ‘Tsumu”. You snap, tone harsh even as he flinches back. “If you and ‘Samu are entitled to chase your dreams, then so am I. Even if that means leavin’ you, I think that’s a price I’m happy to pay.”
You slam the door in his face, refuse to talk to him until you graduate. It’s no longer a game if you refuse to play it anymore.  
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You put him out of your mind. It isn’t easy when he lives right down the street but you try your best, filling your time with packing and planning and pre-reading for university, even as memories of gap-toothed smiles and dirt streaked cheeks float stubbornly through your mind. 
“I told ya he’s a piece of shit”, Samu drawls when he bangs down your door to congratulate you with his latest experiment, a match swiss roll, beautifully baked to perfection. It’s your favourite flavour, and you’re so excited you don’t even raise any objections when he suggests eating it out of the box, right on your bedroom floor. 
“I know”, you respond much later when you’ve stuffed yourself full of cake, pausing to wipe away the dollop of cream from the corner of his mouth before sighing. “Sometimes I think life would’ve been easier if it were you instead of ‘Tsumu.”
You expect Samu to tease you for your admission, or laugh. But he just flops on his belly, taps his chin thoughtfully. 
“Yer both alike in that way”, he says, dark eyes dancing with amusement. “Yer both never met a challenge ya wanted to back down from.”
Samu’s right, but then he always is. Tsumu has always desired a strong opponent on the court. You’re not much different, a moth attracted to the bright sparks of a live wire, blind to the danger it poses. You’ve been drawn to each other, challenged each other to your limits since you were mere children. It’s no different now, but you’re old enough to know better. 
“I suppose”, you muse. “But if we dated instead I think my life would be a lot calmer.”
Osamu wrinkles his nose. “It’d be like dating my sister”, he says with disgust, but lets you lean your head on his shoulder anyway. 
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The last day of school comes and goes, and you graduate from high school in a swirl of pink and white petals. 
You bow to your teachers, accept their well wishes and congratulations with grace. They wave you off, tell you to celebrate with your classmates, take endless photos under the cherry blossom tree - and you do, with your student council friends, your classmates, with Samu, with Suna, even with the hapless Ginjima. But you make yourself scarce whenever you spot the familiar head of blonde at the corner of your eye, and it’s easier to tell your parents that you’d like to celebrate with them, alone. 
You’re already in your pyjamas when you hear your window rattle. Out of instinct, you slide it open. 
“Did you really climb the drain pipe?” you demand incredulously as Miya Atsumu pushes his way past you, collapses onto the floor with a dramatic groan. 
“Didn’t want yer okaa-san to start questionin’ me”, he answers with a laugh, as if he hadn’t torn a rift in your friendship with his own bare hands. 
You remember belatedly that you don’t want to see him, let alone talk to him. 
“You shouldn’t be here”, you state flatly, but he doesn’t take the hint.
He grabs your wrist, drops something cold and round and hard into the center of your palm. You gasp when you unfurl your fingers. 
A brown button. From his blazer, more likely than not. 
“Tis the second button”, he says, voice a low quiver, gaze never leaving your face. “But ya can have the rest if ya want, I saved them all for ya. It’s always meant to be yers ever since we were four years old.”
You glance up at him beneath your lashes, suddenly shy before the boy you’ve known almost all your life. Perhaps it feels different because he’s honest, vulnerable with you for the first time.
“I’m moving to Tokyo in a few weeks.”
“Osaka’s not that far away, we’d make it work.”
“It’ll be hard -” 
“I promise it’ll be worth it.”
He’s offering you your side of the rope. You pick it up, relish the familiar weight in your palm. 
“You’d better, or I’d sit on you again”, you say almost crossly, and he laughs, liquid honey pooling in his eyes.  
“As if I’d consider that a punishment now”, he whispers playfully against your lips, making heat rise in your cheeks, drawing you onto his lap as you exchange promises for the future. 
There is plenty to talk about, plenty to figure out. But despite the distance that will separate the two of you, you’re hopeful. He’s never given up on something he’s bent on chasing, and you’ve never met a challenge you’ve backed down from - so perhaps it’s a game worth working at, a game of tug of war where you both get to win. 
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659 notes · View notes
itadorey · 6 months ago
only one || miya a.
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pairing: miya atsumu x f!reader summary: suna rintarou is the only one who can make your heart race and palms sweat. after overhearing you say this to your friend, miya atsumu offers his help in getting his friend to notice you, which you decline. he manages to persuade you though, and things only get complicated when you find yourself struggling to catch your breath around atsumu instead. genre: reluctant friends to lovers, fluff, some humor?? warings: cursing, atsumu. word count: ~5.1k
this was kind of long hehe but i really liked it and i hope y’all like it too!
as always, reblogs are appreciated <3
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“so, suna rintarou?”
you furrowed your eyebrows as you looked up from your book, meeting the warm, brown eyes of none other than miya atsumu.
“i’m sorry?” you asked, tilting your head in confusion. atsumu chuckled lightly, booping your nose as he took a seat next to you.
“cute,” atsumu commented, snorting when you swatted his hand away. “but really? suna? he seems a little too boring for you, in my opinion. you’re kind of super out of his league.”
“i have no idea what you’re talking about, miya,” you said, carefully placing a bookmark between the pages of your book before closing it and setting it down next to you.
“you can call me atsumu, you know?” he said, leaning back on the grass and basking in the sunlight. you stared at him dully, still confused by the whole situation.
“what do you want, miya?” you asked, watching him pout at your use of his last name. he brought a hand up to his heart, wincing slightly at your tone before breaking out into a large smile. you looked away, slightly annoyed by the volleyball player.
“suna? rintarou?” he repeated, bringing up his hands to form air quotation marks. “you know, ‘the only one who can make my heart race and palms sweat’, that suna rintarou?”
your jaw dropped at his words, and you whipped your head up to look at him. he was wearing a smug smirk, one eyebrow raised in a way that let you know that he had heard everything you had said about the middle blocker.
“where did you hear that?” you hissed, grabbing your book and shoving it into your bag. you could feel your heart pounding as you stood up from the grass, brushing your pants off before crossing your arms and staring at the setter.
“you really should choose more private places to have such conversations,” atsumu replied, standing up as well and brushing his hair out of his eyes. “you weren’t exactly being quiet when you were speaking with mika.”
“so what? are you here to blackmail me or something?” you asked, a scowl working its way onto your face. “what, do you want me to do your english homework in return for you staying quiet?”
atsumu’s smile never faltered, unnerving you the slightest bit as he walked up to you and took your bag from you. 
“no, of course not! what kind of student do you think i am?” he asked, slinging an arm across your shoulders and leading you back into the school building. “you see, lately suna has been getting on my case about every little thing. between you and me, i think that having someone to focus his attention on can be beneficial for both of us. so i’m here to offer my assistance to get suna to notice you!”
you came to a stop abruptly, causing the blonde boy to halt as well. he looked at you curiously, confused by your actions. you remained quiet as you reached for your bag, slinging it over your shoulder and giving atsumu a tight-lipped smile.
“thanks for the generous offer, miya. but no,” you said, annoyance tinging your words. atsumu nearly flinched when he noticed how stony your gaze was and he nodded silently as you began to walk away. 
“if you change your mind, let me know!” he called out after you, this time actually flinching when you turned around and gave him a sharp look. he ran his hand through his hair once you were gone, sighing to himself and preparing to face an irritated suna once again.
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“you’re not subtle with your staring.”
your nose scrunched unconsciously as atsumu plopped down next to you. you picked at your food, eating a bite and choosing to ignore him. your friend, mika, gave you a questioning look, eyes wide as she looked from you to atsumu. 
“ah, hello mika,” atsumu greeted, noticing your friend’s surprise. he placed his elbow on the table, resting his chin in his palm as he angled his body towards you. “why don’t you let me help? it’ll get you further than sitting and staring will. i promise.”
“has it occurred to you that the reason i don’t accept your held is because i’m perfectly content with admiring from afar?” you asked as you pushed your plate away, appetite now ruined. 
“so you’re afraid of rejection?” atsumu said smoothly, taking your leftover food and eating it. you didn’t know whether to feel offended or disgusted, instead settling on feeling betrayed when mika let out a snort at his words.
“what? he’s technically right,” mika said, trying to defend herself after you shot her a withering look. “it’s not like you go out of your way to get him to notice you.”
“we sit next to each other in class,” you mumbled, scooting away from atsumu. “that’s enough.”
“wait! you’re the one that sits next to him?” atsumu questioned, raising a brow when you nodded. he finished the rest of your food, quickly wiping down the container with a napkin and handing it back to you. you took it from him, waiting for him to speak. “you might have a better chance with him than you think.”
you could feel the heat flooding your cheeks as you glanced at suna, watching him as he spoke with osamu. you shook your head and turned back to atsumu, who was looking at you with a knowing smirk. 
“maybe you should listen to him,” mika said, eating a spoonful of food before continuing. “what’s the worst that can happen? atsumu is his friend, after all.”
“see! even mika sees how helpful i can be,” atsumu cheered, reaching over to high five your friend. you bit your lip softly, feeling your stomach flop as you watched suna smile softly. 
“fine,” you said, giving in. “one chance, miya. don’t mess it up, it won’t end well for either one of us.”
atsumu pumped his fist into the air, earning a weird look from you as he stood up and ruffled your hair.
“you won’t regret it. i promise.”
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“(y/n)! there you are!” atsumu cried, rushing up to you and grabbing you by the hand. you squeaked when he dragged you over to the gym doors, coming to a stop in front of his brother and suna. you tilted your head in acknowledgement, earning a nod from suna and a gentle smile from osamu. 
“you know each other?” suna asked, slight surprise present on his face as he looked at yours and atsumu’s hands. you quickly yanked your hand out of his, laughing nervously as atsumu nodded.
“yup! she’s helping me study for english,” atsumu said, missing the deadly glare you sent him. “don’t you need help with that too, suna? you should join us.”
“yeah! the more the merrier,” you spat out, wincing when you felt atsumu’s elbow dig into your side. 
“sounds good,” suna said, giving you a small smile before turning to atsumu. “are you studying after practice?”
“yeah, we’re going to that cafe down the street,” atsumu confirmed, frowning when he realized you were walking away. “(y/n/n)! where are you going?”
“don’t call me that,” you said softly, turning to face him. “i’ll be waiting at the cafe. i’m not going to sit in the gym and deal with your fan girls while you practice.”
“okay, fine,” atsumu said, internally agreeing with your statement. “just make sure you get a good table!”
you gave him a lazy salute before turning back around and continuing on your way. the cafe atsumu had mentioned was easy enough to find, and you had to admit that it was cozy, the perfect place to sit and study. you got a table big enough for the three of you, ordering a drink before slipping into study mode. by the time the two boys had arrived, you had managed to work through a good portion of your homework.
“hey,” suna’s quiet voice greeted you, drawing your attention to him as he took the seat across from you. you smiled in response, shyly averting your eyes when he didn’t look away. your smile dropped when atsumu slid into the seat next to you, his shoulder bumping yours and causing the pen in your hand to move suddenly and leave a stray mark on your paper. 
“miya,” you snapped, turning to give him a piece of your mind. atsumu’s face held a lazy smirk, a pink tint present in his cheeks when he realized how close you were. suna couldn’t hold back a soft laugh, watching his usually quiet classmate lose their cool with their teammate. 
“i’ll buy you a cookie as an apology,” atsumu said, suna’s laugh breaking the silence and reminding him that he still had a very pissed (y/n) to deal with. 
“don’t bother,” you muttered, searching for your white out. you stopped when suna held his out, and you took it with a grateful smile. you held your breath as atsumu leaned in, picking up your pen and scribbling in the corner of your paper. 
“i’m sorry.”
you scowled and ran the white out over his message, causing him to let out an offended gasp. he pushed you away, scribbling something else and laughing when you tried to grab your paper from him. you succeeded after a few tries, smacking his head and proceeding to erase all traces of atsumu from your homework. 
“stop being so annoying!” you said, grabbing his face and pushing him away. 
“i’m not annoying! i’m cute!” atsumu replied, your pen still in his grasp. 
“you’re a fucking nightmare is what you are,” you retorted, lunging across his lap for your pen. atsumu pulled it even further away from you, sticking his tongue out when you failed to reach it. you straightened up, placing a knee on your seat to gain some leverage as you threw yourself forward. neither one of you noticed how close you were, resulting in the two of you knocking heads and crying out in pain. your pen clattered to the floor, rolling around for a bit before it was picked up by suna. 
“are you okay?” he asked, looking at you with an amused expression. you smiled sheepishly, rubbing your forehead before nodding. suna placed the pen on your notebook, giving atsumu a devilish smirk before holding up his phone. “osamu’s going to enjoy that video.”
you and atsumu groaned in unison, causing suna to snicker as he got up to go order something. you faced atsumu, reaching up to yank his hair harshly before speaking.
“you’re insufferable. stop embarrassing me.”
“ow,” he hissed, rubbing his head for a few seconds before winking at you. “kinky.”
from his place in line, suna heard the loud smack you had given atsumu.
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atsumu’s plan was admittedly not the worst.
as the weeks dragged on, you found yourself forming an easy friendship with suna, occasionally heading over to his place to study whenever atsumu gave some lame excuse in order to leave the two of you alone. suna’s sister was adorable, you had learned, and she seemed to take a liking to you as well, always bugging suna to bring you around.
the usually quiet boy always seemed to be interested in what you had to say, leaving his phone face down on the table whenever you spoke to him, smiling when you usually ranted about atsumu.
the blonde-haired menace had become a larger part of your life than you cared to admit, his shitty jokes and teasing nudges eventually growing on you. you had often found yourself waking up at 2 am to go to the bathroom only to be greeted with whatever random meme atsumu had found on the internet late at night. 
“and then, he asked if he could call me because he needed help with math,” you said, scribbling something down on your paper as suna snickered. “he kept me up until 4 a.m., suna. four a.m.”
you paused to yawn, taking a sip of water afterwards to try and wake yourself up. suna shook his head, a small smile on his face as he listened to you, knowing that atsumu had finished his math homework the day it was assigned.
“you can nap if you want,” suna said, tilting his head towards his bed. you shook your head, opening your mouth to speak only to be stopped by another yawn. 
“just go sleep,” he muttered, using one hand to push you away from the table. “i’ll continue the assignment.”
you pouted, about to argue with him when he gave you a stern look. you smiled sheepishly, grabbing your water bottle before giving in and flopping into his bed. you curled up in the middle of it, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you wrapped the blankets around you. 
“g’night, rin,” you murmured, missing his response as you knocked out. not even five minutes had passed before your phone began to blow up, the constant vibrations making suna scowl. he looked over at you noticing you were deep in sleep before reaching for your phone with the intention of turning it off.
miya [8 new messages]  
he paused when he saw the notifications, smirking lightly before grabbing his own phone. 
‘leave her alone,’ suna typed, shaking his head before sending the message. a reply came instantly, causing his phone to ding loudly before he could even put it down. he glanced at you, making sure that he hadn’t woken you up and quickly muting his phone. 
atsumu: why 😏 
suna rolled his eyes, fingers gliding quickly across his screen as he typed out his response. ‘she’s sleeping. i heard you kept her up late last night.’
he saw atsumu’s typing bubble pop up and before he could reply, suna got up and wandered over to you. he opened his camera, snapping a quick picture of you and sending it to atsumu. the typing bubble disappeared for a few minutes, and when the message finally arrived, suna couldn’t help but chuckle. 
atsumu: ...she might be a real demon when she’s awake but right now she looks like an angel. 
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ever since the night you had fallen asleep in his bed, suna had noticed the way atsumu’s eyes seemed to linger on you. even though atsumu had never mentioned the picture again, suna knew that he had saved it. osamu had told him so. 
it wasn’t until the three of you were at the usual cafe, studying, that suna realized that maybe (just maybe) atsumu had feelings for you. he couldn’t help but smirk as he watched the blonde boy stare at you, tossing rolled up pieces of his napkin at you and smiling softly whenever you swatted at him, your eyes never leaving your paper. 
when he realized that you weren’t going to turn your attention towards him, atsumu proceeded to pick up his pen and poke your cheek with it repeatedly. you mumbled something under your breath, glancing at suna for help and frowning when the middle blocker simply shook his head.
atsumu snickered as he leaned in closer, the tip of his pen gliding across your cheek and drawing a glare from you as you finally whipped your head around to face him. 
“miya!” you hissed, making suna remember the first time the three of you had ever studied at the cafe. it had been a very similar situation, leading to the two of you knocking heads. suna raised an eyebrow when he noticed just how close you were to atsumu, your nose brushing his as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. 
“miya,” you repeated, a lot calmer than you had previously been. “i would appreciate it if you learned what personal space is and respected mine.”
“uh, you have a little something,” atsumu, began, reaching over for a napkin and dipping it in a bit of water. he raised his free hand, cupping your cheek and gently turning your head slightly so he could wipe at the pen mark on your cheek. “right here.”
suna held his breath as he watched the scene in front of him, eyes widening slightly as he watched the way atsumu interacted with you. he had never seen the setter be so gentle with anyone, and he smirked to himself as he realized that he had been right about atsumu’s feelings for you. 
“well that mark is your fault,” you huffed, crossing your arms and trying to avoid atsumu’s eyes. he was ridiculously close, and you pulled away quickly when you noticed how intently suna was watching the two of you. atsumu froze for a few seconds, his fingertips grazing the curve of your cheek as you turned away. he cleared his throat loudly, placing the napkin down before standing up. 
“i’m gonna, uh, go get a drink,” he said, fidgeting nervously before continuing. “do either of you want anything?”
suna shook his head at the same time you replied with your favorite drink, causing atsumu to nod determinedly before making his way over to the counter. you stared after him, shaking your head briefly before turning your attention back to your work and pretending not to notice suna’s gaze on you. the sound of your pen scratching on your paper filled the silence between the two of you, but you found yourself halting your actions when you noticed that suna’s eyes were still focused on you. you glanced up at him, an eyebrow raised as you silently asked what was wrong.
“so, you and atusmu, huh?” suna asked, mentally laughing when he saw the way your eyes widened. you placed your pen down on the table, shaking your head vehemently as you glanced at the boy in question. 
“me and him? ew! no, i like you!” you blurted, slapping a hand over your mouth as you realized what you had said. the embarrassment you were expecting never hit you, your face twisting into a scowl instead when suna laughed loudly. 
“no you don’t,” suna replied, leaning back into his chair and crossing his arms. he watched your face twisted up in annoyance, your eyes narrowing as you stared him down.
“you can’t just decide who i do and don’t like,” you said, rolling your eyes as you stared down at your work. “i like you, suna.. you make my heart race and i feel nervous when i meet your eyes and— i like you, okay?”
“do you really?”
you looked up, meeting suna’s eyes and blinking slowly when you realized that he had leaned in closer. he had his elbow resting on the table, his cheek resting in his palm as he stared at you. you met his gaze easily, eyebrows knitting together when he leaned in so close, you could feel his breath fanning your lips.
“yes,” you said confidently, your eyes dropping to his lips briefly before meeting his gaze. he pushed his head forwards, his lips brushing against yours for a millisecond before you jerked back. 
“sorry,” you whispered, hand covering your mouth as you tried to process what had just happened. “i don’t know what-”
“yes you do,” suna interrupted, his lips turned up slightly. “do you really still think you like me?”
“am i interrupting something?” atsumu asked, face set in a deep frown as he looked at the close proximity between you and suna. the two of you shook your heads, leaning away from each other when atsumu placed your cup down between the two of you with a loud thud.
“sure didn’t seem like nothing,” atsumu muttered, taking his seat next to you and immediately getting back to work. he paused when he noticed your frozen state, softly nudging your shoulder with his to catch your attention. you turned towards him, meeting his eyes briefly before looking away and nodding your head to let him know you were fine. 
on the inside, you were shaking, silently berating yourself for pulling away from suna. but things had changed. somewhere down along the line, meeting suna’s eyes had become easy, and being around him didn’t fill your stomach with butterflies like it used to. instead, you simply felt the warm happiness that came with talking to a friend, someone who you trusted wholeheartedly. 
taking a sip of your drink, you shut your eyes, head spinning with thoughts of suna’s words as you finally accepted what you had been trying so hard to deny.
you could no longer look miya atsumu in the eye.
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“fuck you,” you muttered when you got to school the next day, being met with a smirking suna as soon as you stepped foot inside the classroom. 
“what’s wrong?” he asked, slinging an arm across your shoulders as the two of you walked down the hall. 
“you know exactly what’s wrong,” you replied, huffing when suna rubbed your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you. 
“morning,” osamu greeted, nodding at the two of you when you came to a stop in front of him and atsumu. you replied quietly, glancing at atsumu to see him staring at suna’s arm. you hurriedly pushed it off, ignoring the snicker that came from the middle blocker. 
“good morning. did you sleep well?” atsumu asked, coming to your side and leaning against the wall. you nodded silently, suddenly hyperaware of the way atsumu’s smile was just a little bit crooked and how he managed to look good even after staying up late the previous night. “i missed you last night, the video call just wasn’t the same after you fell asleep.”
“he kept you on the line and yelled at me when i dropped my water bottle because he claimed i was too loud,” osamu said, earning a glare from his twin. “it was plastic.”
you chuckled nervously, glancing at the time before grabbing suna’s hand and dragging him away. “well it’s time for class. see you guy later!”
the twins watched as you dragged suna down the hall, atsumu’s gaze focused specifically on your hand linked with his. osamu followed his line of view, snorting as he nodded his head towards you.
“looks like she finally confessed, huh?” osamu asked, causing atsumu to turn to him with a bewildered expression. “please, we could all tell they liked each other.”
“wait,” atsumu said, turning to face osamu. “suna actually likes her? i thought he just thought she was cool.”
osamu kept a straight face as he replied. “why are you so surprised? isn’t this what you wanted? to get them together?”
“i—“ atsumu paused, blinking a few times before closing his mouth. “you’re right.”
osamu snorted at atsumu’s response, noticing the conflicted look in his brother’s eyes. “you like her.”
“no i don’t!” atsumu protested, avoiding osamu’s eyes as he looked around. he crossed his arms, making a surprised noise when osamu grabbed his jaw and twisted his face in your direction. atsumu’s eyes softened when they landed on you, a smile appearing on his face as he watched you pout at suna.
his smile turned into a scowl as he pulled his face out of osamu’s hands, grabbing his bag and walking down the hall. osamu caught up to him easily, casually stretching his arms as he shot atsumu a curious glance.
“i like her,” atsumu muttered, watching osamu nod to himself.
“i know,” he replied. “you should tell her. she didn’t confess to suna and i’ve never seen you act this way over anyone.”
atsumu grunted in response, acknowledging his brother’s words but not responding as they made their way to class.
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neither you nor atsumu noticed the satisfied nods that suna and osamu gave each other during lunch.
it was abnormally silent, with atsumu shoveling his food into his mouth and you just pushing yours around. osamu looked at the two of you before glancing at suna, wondering if he should be the one to break the silence.
just as he opened his mouth to speak, he was stopped by suna, who had placed a hand on his arm. he tilted his head towards atsumu, noticing the way he kept glancing at you and your food. he had a knowing expression on his face, one that suna had seen atsumu give you one too many times while the three of you studied at the cafe.
“so,” atsumu started, stretching the word out as he leaned in close to you. “are you gonna finish your food?”
an annoyed expression flitted across your face, and suna and osamu leaned back in their seats as they watched the two of you.
“hello? princess?” atsumu asked, scooting closer to you when you ignored him. he wrapped an arm around the back of your seat, praying that you couldn’t hear how fast his heart was beating.
you remained in place, repeating the new nickname in your head and staring at your food as you tried to calm your racing heart. you could feel atsumu looming over you, all too aware of the cocky smirk on his face as he watched you.
“are you ignoring me right now?” he asked, humming when he didn’t receive an answer. suna and osamu watched as he took his chopsticks, inching them closer to your food. he stopped when your hand clamped down on his, tightly grabbing it and pushing him away from your food.
“stop,” you said, rolling your eyes when he made another attempt. “you finished your food already.”
“and i’m still hungry!” he complained, successfully managing to steal a bite. “besides, it’s not like you’re eating it.”
“shove it, miya,” you snapped, pulling your food away and turning to face him. you could feel your cheeks flood with heat when you met his eyes, his smirk slowly dropping and shifting into a soft smile.
“not ignoring me anymore, princess?” he asked, snickering when you huffed.
“what’s with the nickname?” you asked, smacking the chopsticks out of his hand. he whined softly, pouting as he held up his reddening hand.
“why are you being so mean? kiss it better!” he proclaimed, shoving his hand into your face.
“kiss it yourself,” you replied, pushing his hand down onto the table. “i don’t wanna be anywhere near your disgusting hand.”
“my hand is not disgusting!” he exclaimed. “it’s pretty!”
“yeah, i’m sure it’s pretty,” you snorted. “you’ve hurt your fingers so many times i’m surprised they’re not crooked!”
“i’ll have you know that— mmph!”
atsumu’s words were cut off when suna suddenly pushed him into you, his hands moving to grab onto the table as he tried to steady himself. the two of you froze for a few seconds when you realized that you were way too close to each other, lips pressed together in a soft kiss.
his eyes were wide, slight embarrassment peeking through as he searched your eyes for any signs of hesitation. when he didn’t find what he was looking for, he let his eyes flutter shut, pressing his lips against yours with a little more pressure.
you could feel your heart stuttering in your chest and you squeezed your eyes shut, shyly moving your lips against atsumu’s in response. the hand that had been resting on the back of your set wrapped around your back, pressing you closer to atsumu. your hands flew to his chest, balling up the fabric of his shirt in your fists as you tried to process the fact that you were kissing miya atsumu.
you could smell his cologne, the subtle scent making your head spin as you pressed yourself closer to atsumu’s body. his arm tightened even further around you and you tilted your head in order to try and deepen the kiss.
“so, i’m guessing that atsumu wasn’t exactly hungry for your food,” osamu remarked dryly, causing the two of you to spring apart. you shoved atsumu away, almost pushing him off of his chair as an embarrassed expression took over your face.
you met suna’s eyes briefly, looking away instantly when you noticed his smug smirk.
“you can say that again,” atsumu said, his wide smile not disappearing even when you smacked his chest. he grabbed your hand swiftly, pulling it to his lips and planting a small kiss on your knuckles. “why are you hitting me? that was funny.”
“no, it wasn’t!”
“yes it was!”
“well, we’re gonna let you two... sort everything out. you’re welcome for the kiss, by the way,” suna said, smug smirk still on his face. he grabbed his things and got up, softly kicking osamu when he didn’t move.
“right! see you two later,” osamu said, joining suna as the two of them walked away from the table. silence ensued between you and atsumu, and you found yourself pulling your hand away from him as you shifted awkwardly.
“so am i a good kisser?” he asked, excitement lacing his words.
“atsumu,” you sighed, staring down at the table.
“i think i am,” he continued, eyes shining as he looked at you. “especially with the way you were kissing back—“
“— and the way you pressed yourself closer to me, and—“
“atsumu!” you yelled once more, finally getting the boy’s attention. he stopped taking, running a hand through his hair before answering.
“what are we—“ you paused, turning to face him properly. “what was that? why did you do that?”
atsumu scoffed, his hands going up to cup your face. “isn’t it obvious? i kind of like you.”
“only kind of?” you asked, unable to keep from teasing him.
“ok fine,” atsumu conceded, rolling his eyes. “i really like you.”
a pause filled the space between the two of you, and you raised an eyebrow when you noticed atsumu pouting.
“what?” you asked, unable to look away since he was still cupping your face.
“you’re supposed to say it back,” he said, whining when another minute of silence passed. you snickered softly, reaching up to grab his hands and holding them in your own.
“miya atsumu,” you began, sending him a soft smile that had his heart melting. “you’re a fucking nightmare—“
“— and you’re pretty annoying, and rude, and petty, and—“
“— ok, i get it!”
“but!” you said, giving him a look that screamed ‘shut up’. “i really like you too.”
atsumu grinned before leaning in to peck your lips, chuckling when he heard you squeak in surprise.
“so,” he said, an alarmingly devious smile on his face. “does this mean that now i’m the only one that makes your heart race and palms sweat?”
you glared at him as he snickered, getting up and grabbing your stuff before walking away.
“princess? where are you going?”
“to find suna,” you replied dryly, a smirking when you heard atsumu scrambling to join you.
“you don’t mean that, right? (y/n)? babe?”
sure, miya atsumu was a fucking nightmare, but you couldn’t deny that he really did make your heart race and palms sweat. and you were lucky enough to have him in your life. 
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-> taglist!
@datech​, @zukuroo​, @bap-kingdom​, @waitforitillwritemywayout​, @wisepandaslimeland​, @kashhask, @dcuniversegurl​, @h0ngh0ngh0ng​, @mirikusashes​, @myeg1993​, @volexis​, @greenleaf-fantasy​, @brownsugartease-blog​, @samanthaa-leanne​, @galacticstxrdust, @kac-chowsballs​, @neatsan​, @sugasugawarau​, @thathoneybee3​, @killuaking​, @yn-tingz​, @differentballooncollection​, @om-ly​, @vhskenma​, @bbymilkbread​, @kissungjae​, @appleciderslut​, @melodynee, @visaintes​, @thevillagehiddenintheinternet​, @milkiisenpai​, @kuroogguk​, @shadowkunoichi​, @tsumue​, @swoona-rintarou​, @aprettyfruit​, @toobsessedsstuff​, @heyhinata​, @throughtheinterstices​, @mewspeaches​, @moonlightaangel​, @answer-the-sirens​, @kutokawa​, @ya-kkun​, @minibobabottle​, @ukeishin​ @velvesagi​, @sophiashortcake​, @sushii10​
2K notes · View notes
bokutosworld · 4 months ago
unexpected visit | sakusa k. 
pairing: sakusa kiyoomi x f!reader word count, genre: 1.3k words, family au, fluff. warning: pregnancy mention.  summary: what was supposed to be an ordinary training day became a day full of surprises when sakusa’s little girl came running through the gym doors.
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It’s almost lunchtime when the doors to the MSBY training gym opens and a shrill, cheery shout takes the attention of the players away from the practice match. 
“Papa!” The source of the voice comes running inside, her little feet taking her from across the door to the middle of the court where Sakusa was standing dumbfounded. His eyes are blown wide and it wasn’t until Atsumu chuckles and nudges his shoulder that he comes back to reality and catches his daughter in his arms. 
Shiomi’s eyes are sparkling with delight and her smile is as bright as the sun that the mere sight of it is enough to rid Kiyoomi of his exhaustion. He finds himself letting out his own chuckle, wiping her face of sweat and brushing away few strands of hair that have fallen astray on her face. 
“What are you doing here? Where’s your Mom?” 
As if on cue, heavy footsteps echo in the gym, you stop by the doors, panting as you’ve just tried to keep up with your energetic child. You fix your stance, ready to scold Shiomi who was now nuzzled close to your husband’s chest when Bokuto and Hinata come to your side. They help take the heavy bag slung on your shoulders and lead you towards a bench. 
Your husband catches the piercing look in your eyes and turns to his daughter, “What did you do?”
But when she lets out an innocent grin and her pleading eyes, Sakusa could not find it in himself anymore to get mad at her.
Due to the sudden but welcome interruption, the coaches decided to let the team have an early break. The players dispersed, some sprawled out on the floor and others exiting the venue to head towards the cafeteria. 
However, much to Sakusa’s dismay, his three buddies—Atsumu, Bokuto, and Hinata—insisted on tagging along on his supposed alone time with his family. Shiomi, on the other hand, was very excited to play and spend time with her uncles. In fact, the four-year-old was very much taken with the setter who always seemed to entertain her and shower her with affection. 
The group of you settled on having lunch by the park just across the gym. The boys were surprised by your preparedness, having brought a blanket which you laid on the grass and took out different bento boxes. 
As the boys gasped in awe of the food sitting right before their eyes, you apologized, “I don’t know if I made enough. We just came here on a whim because someone,” your eyes narrowed at your girl who only hid behind Atsumu. “Was crying so much and wanted to go see her father. I just used whatever’s left in our refrigerator, I hope this is okay.” 
Bokuto clapped his hands and said a quick thank you, “Don’t sweat it, Sakusa-san. This is more than enough.” 
“Besides, we also have our own lunch. We’ll just have a taste of some,” Hinata added and the boys proceeded to eat. 
You felt a hand slide around your waist, pulling you close and before you knew it, you were leaning on Sakusa’s side. He presses a kiss on your temple, “Thanks for this.” 
“No problem.” 
The whole lunch break passed by in a blink of an eye. Shiomi truly enjoyed the presence of her three uncles who indulged her childish stories. Atsumu kept her close by, placing her on his lap as she talked about the cartoon that she watched that morning. Bokuto and Hinata were listening intently, occasionally making her double over in laughter with their jokes. 
Meanwhile, you and your husband were cuddling and taking shade under the tree. The two of you sat in silence, with Kiyoomi’s arms wrapped around you and his hand caressing your arm was making you sleepy. The soft breeze from the wind makes you slightly shiver and Kiyoomi notices this. 
“Are you cold?” 
“What do you think,” you playfully retort. 
You catch the way his eyes crinkle in amusement at your reply. He shakes his head, “And you wonder where our kid gets her sarcastic side.” 
“I hate you.” 
He hums, “You love me.” In a rare display of public affection, he tilts your face toward his, pulling you close to him and leaning until his lips are only few centimeters away from yours. 
Only then, Shiomi comes tumbling in to Sakusa’s lap. 
“Papa, let’s go! Uncle Atsumu says it’s time for practice again!” 
Sakusa groans, sending a glare towards Atsumu who only responded with a shrug of his shoulders. 
“Okay, sweetheart,” he stands up and takes Shiomi by her hand. “Why don’t you go ahead with them? I’ll help Mommy with the bags.” 
She pouts and pretends to think it over a minute before bouncing on her heels and going to Atsumu’s side. 
You snicker, “I swear, Shiomi only listens to you. It’s clear that you’re her favorite parent.” 
Sakusa is taking the lunch boxes and placing them neatly inside the eco-bag. “Can’t beat Atsumu, though. If he offered to take her away for the weekend, I’m sure Shiomi will go with him. No questions asked.” 
“Hm, that wouldn’t be so bad though.” You easily slip your hand in his, giving it a little squeeze before leaving the park. “We could ask Atsumu to babysit for one weekend, and we could, you know.” You send a teasing smirk his way and he catches on, tugging you closer by the waist.
“Oh? I like the sound of that.” 
The two of you continue walk in sync, a few steps behind Atsumu, Bokuto, and Hinata who were all taking turns holding Shiomi’s hand. You smiled at the sight, thankful that Kiyoomi’s friends adored your daughter. 
You jump in surprise when you feel a hand on your stomach. Stopping in your tracks, you watch Sakusa feel for your tiny bump. 
“You shouldn’t tire yourself out anymore,” he worries, remembering how disheveled you look earlier when you appeared in the gym. “It’s bad for you and the baby.” 
It was honestly cute and touching how Sakusa often fusses over you over the littlest things. Your heart warms thinking about how he has been the greatest husband when you were pregnant with Shiomi. Not once did he take his eyes off you, making sure that you didn’t work as hard, and always tried his best to give in to your cravings. When Shiomi was born, Sakusa was over the moon and it amazed you how he doted on and cared for her. 
And with a second child on the way, you could only look forward to see how else Sakusa would exceed your expectations. 
“I know. I’m sorry,” you place your hand on top of his. “But it wasn’t just Shiomi who wanted to see you today, you know.” Reaching inside your bag, you pull out a familiar brown envelope. Sakusa looks at you expectantly, his eyes glued to the paper you were holding. 
“I went to the doctor yesterday and got an ultrasound.” He gasps and turns the paper over his hands, scanning over the sonogram. “We’re having a boy.” 
Sakusa feels warm all over. And he’s embracing you, careful as he wraps his arms around your fragile body, and catches your lips with his. You feel him smile in the kiss and you melt further in to his touch. 
When he breaks away, he leans his forehead on yours, whispering the words you’ve heard hundreds of times but it were words that you will never get tired of, 
“I love you. Always.” 
767 notes · View notes
writeiolite · 9 months ago
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plot: ukai gets an assistant coach to help him with the workload, but you seem keen on taking a different kind of his load. it doesn’t help that you seem to know something about him, so naturally he wants to figure that out, even if it means diving deep into you....r mind! totally not your pants.
warnings: desk sex, coach kink, dom/sub themes, blowjob, face fucking, cum/spit play, cum eating, deceitful sex?, sexual tension, hint o’ size kink, smol age gap, dumbification? maybe?, girl idk
wc: 8,198
a/n: HELLO @spriteandnicotine​​ AND THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR COMMISSIONING ME!! i had lots of fun writing this (as u can fucking tell lmao the fucking .. wc....) so im rly thankful for this comm and for you!! thank u for being my friend and for keeping everyone in haikyuucreations server company ^^ i hope you enjoy reading this and thank you for being you!!
[ ! ]   if you want to use this fic in a reading video (like ASMR or smth), please dm me and get my permission first
. . . ♡ — crossposted to my AO3
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“Hey, Newbie.”
A couple of heads turn, none of which are yours.
“No, not you guys. Her.” Ukai points at you with his pen in hand, but you’re too damn focused on helping Hinata learn how to set that you don’t notice. Why the second-year even needs to know goes over the coach’s head, but you were insistent. “Bring her over here for me.”
The two first years nod and Ukai watches them approach you with a small scowl. As much as he likes having an assistant coach around to help him out, he can’t figure out what it is about you (besides the obvious) that he doesn’t like. There’s something off. You — unlike the new first years — don’t treat him with the same amount of caution. It’s like there’s an extra dose of Chemical X coursing through your veins and making you act out, all too familiar with him and all too knowing of things that you shouldn’t know about.
What exactly is she hiding?
“Need something, Coach?” You’re light on your feet when you approach him, a pep in your step that makes him scowl even more. “You okay?”
“Have some respect, will you? I’m older than you,” he sighs, lips twitching. He needs a cig. “Why are you wasting your time over there? You know we need some fliers out about the upcoming game.”
Your eyebrows lift. “I thought I mentioned earlier Yachi is handling that.” Without any invitation, you lean into his personal space, pretty fingers flipping a page on his clipboard, then another, and another before you stroke up the sheet slowly. “See,” you pause to tap the ink, “I even wrote it down right here for you. You’re not getting that old, are you?”
“No.” He sits up straight and raises his chin. “You just wrote it somewhere less obvious than normal.”
“Oh,” you snicker, “sorry, I’ll make sure to leave it in the normal place next time. Don’t wanna make your hard job any harder.”
A shudder wracks his shoulders and back — did you have to remain so close to him while you said it? Why did you say it like that? It’s not the first time but he still can’t get used to it.
You stand up straight as if nothing happened, hands weaved together behind your back. “Am I good to go now? You know Hinata needs to learn the difficulties of setting so he can be a little more accommodating to Kageyama.”
“I think you need to learn to be a little bit more accommodating to your superiors,” he grumbles.
“What?” You lean in again and hell, he nearly falls off the bench when he leans back.
“Nothing. Just go do whatever it is you need to do, kid.”
With your lips pursed, you shrug your shoulders and scamper off, hopefully not realizing the cold sweat that’s building on his temple. For whatever reason, your perfume smells familiar in the best way, and the last thing he needs is for more than one thing to get hard.
Luckily for him, you don’t pester him any further that day. He ignored the seconds you stared too long and the way you lingered after practice to catch a spare moment with him. He’s glad Yachi ripped you away from the gym and and him before you could enact whatever funny ideas you had.
In short, Keishin does not trust his assistant coach.
Every single practice is another test of his patience. He still remembers when you first started working at Karasuno, wet behind the ears (though, he believes you still are) and using this job to sustain you through college. In all honesty, he doubted you — or anyone, for that matter — could handle a job and school, but you soon proved your determination within the first few weeks of working with him. Showing up on time, even early, and then accompanying the team to dinner and always providing useful strategies. You’d suggest game plans he didn’t think of like you know the ins and outs of the sport and the players.
To be fair, he vaguely remembers you saying you’re the second and third years’ senpai, but he doesn’t listen to anything that comes out of your mouth when it’s not practice time. All because after the first month at his side, things went south.
You must’ve bumped your head. It hadn’t been the first time Ukai walked you home from practice, but it surely was the last. What was once such a harmless notion quickly became something he feared, and that goes for more than walking you home. Call him an idiot but he thought it would be fine to come in for tea. A college girl living by herself in an apartment far from her campus, surely you must get lonely. He didn’t see the harm in it the first time it happened, but that’s only because the foul came after.
One invite for tea turned into two, and the two abruptly turned into Disaster. Maybe he bumped his head because he didn’t understand how the conversation suddenly surrounded his sex life.
“Do you like to be called daddy?” you spoke with a comfortable smirk, “Or since you’re a coach now, do you prefer to be called that?”
Iced tea sputtered between his lips. “Uh, doesn’t matter…” He blinked a few times and thought about it — he liked the dominance with the title, but he didn’t exactly like when his exes called him daddy. But the more the thought about it, he didn’t know why he even answered.
You hummed knowingly with a nod. “I know you pretty well. I’d say you’d like to be called coach because being called daddy by your exes didn’t always get you going, right?”
“You only know me within work,” he bit out, needing to reel the conversation back to holy grounds. It felt bad that you were right-
“Aw, don’t be like that, coach.”
-but it felt even worse that it sounded right coming out of your mouth.
“Can’t punish me for being observant,” you chimed. “Though, you’re the type, right?”
He stiffly shook his head, jaw rigid even when he said your name as a warning. “You have no idea what you’re talking about, so let’s stop here.”
“Oh, I do!” You smiled at him so… purely with eyes so prying. The juxtaposition made him nauseous. “But we can pick this up another day.”
There would not be another day — not if he could help it.
Any hopes he had about this being a one-time thing were diminished when he got to work and you still were playing some sort of mind (and body) game with him. Why does your perfume smell so nice? Why are you dressed up so nicely? Why do you act so nicely and so naughty — and not in the good way?
He didn’t think he’d be so unlucky to find out.
“Hey, Coach-”
A weird chill settles into his bones.
“-did you still want me to run Friday practice?”
Right. He forgot he told the managers that. “Yeah, that’d be great. I’ll still be around in the faculty office if you need me. Just gotta do some errands. And for the rest of you,” he makes burning eye contact with the team, hoping they all get the message, “don’t start thinking you can slack off. I should be back periodically.”
“Yes, sir!”
Good. He trusts them enough to listen, unlike some people. And as if you can fucking hear his thoughts, you flash him a wink, one that he shoots down with a glare before leaving. Technically, you should be following him, but he didn’t have the guts to tell you you’re just as responsible for these small errands and meetings as much as he is. He doesn’t mind shouldering the work if it means getting to escape from your double-edged presence.
You like him — that much is obvious. He’s never had the opportunity to date a coworker (who the hell would when you work in a store owned by your family?) but he’d say he’s not picky. It didn’t seem like a bad idea unless you break up… but he’s not about to risk any of that with you. Someone else (someone normal)? Maybe.
Gone are the good ole days where he showed you the ropes of coaching, now replaced with terror behind those gym doors. He sighs while filing away some papers Takeda left for him, the first stack of many to sort. Hell, shouldn’t this be his job?
“The nerve of these people,” he grumbles, shutting a filing cabinet and going about the next task. There are meetings to coordinate, camps to coordinate, and even bathroom breaks to coordinate — Hinata can’t ride in a bus for more than an hour. Ugh. His work is cut out for him for the next two hours but his head is already pounding.
It doesn’t go by as fast as he’d like even when he’s sauntering from the coach’s desk to the faculty doors and chatting away in the coaches’ conference call. While you may not be the best company, he’s finding himself itching to get back to practice. Not a moment more and he’s walking back to the gym. Just for a peek.
He can hear Tanaka yelling before he even pokes his head in, prompting him to mute his mic on the call. Just cracking the door open to make sure nothing is on fire and he already feels better. It’s just another practice as usu-
Dammit. He pretends he doesn’t hear — stupid choice, frankly — and moves his gaze aside. If he thought Yachi giving him away was bad, he obviously didn’t account for what would happen when he looks right at you. You’re staring back at him curiously and it looks like you might get up right when he hears his name being mentioned in the phone call.
He darts back down the walkway to the faculty office, unmuting himself and finishing his tasks for the day. By the time you go to follow him, he’s already gone and decided on coming back another time.
If only it were that easy every day.
The next practice is the same as the others — loud voices, cigarette breaks when you get too close, practicing receives, and on and on… The practice after that is the same, though, you started offering him his favorite brand of cigarettes — one that he hasn’t bought in a while but never forgets nonetheless.
He narrows his eyes at you.
“I know you don’t smoke.”
You nod and wiggle the box in front of him to encourage him to take one. “Your break is in a few minutes, right?”
Of course, you took note of when he started going on breaks. What kind of person would you be if you didn’t? One that isn’t weirdly crushing with him? If only.
“I’ll pass,” he grunts, facing forward again to watch the scrimmage match. Takeda glances at the two of you oddly but doesn’t say anything. Damn him, it’d be nice if he would play savior for a moment and give you something to do.
“C’mon, these are the ones you like, right?” You set the box in his lap, your hand lingering there for far too long. Sure, you’re not touching him, but you’re touching the box and it’s touching him. That’s just way too fucking close.
He tenses his jaw, biting back whatever end-of-the-line insults he may have. “Really.”
“Aw…” He can see you slump beside him and he’s caught between victory and guilt. Yes, guilt, because that time you sounded genuinely upset, and it goes down like bitter, faux-cherry-flavored medicine.
Taking a patient breath (saints should laud him), he pushes your hand off the box, slides a stick out, and slaps the little square back into your palm. He keeps his eyes locked on the net, convinced that if he doesn’t look at you then he won’t feel that bad.
“I knew I didn’t forget,” you mutter under your breath. It’s probably a sentence he wasn’t supposed to hear, but he did. He heard the sly smile with it too.
“Huh?” He doesn’t just look at you now, he glowers.
Maybe fear tactics will work on you.
“Hm? Oh!” You reach into your bag and pull out a lighter before leaning into him like always. “Want me to get it for-”
Nope, guess not.
“I’m taking a break,” he grumbles to Takeda, zipping across the wooden floor before things could get worse.
He should definitely say something to you. Something more direct than what he told you over tea, but what exactly would work with a lovesick girl? “You’re pretty but I’m not into you?” “I think you have a great personality but I’m not interested?”
When he sighs out the smoke, he’s disappointed that his troubles don’t go with it. Who the hell is he kidding? You’re more than pretty, your personality is more than great, the only thing “wrong” is that you’re coming off too strong before he can have a chance to get to know you how he wants. No, that sounds weird. He just wants to know what you’re hiding.
The familiar cigarette between his fingers brings back memories of an ex he had a few years ago — she always bought these for him and after they broke up he didn’t have the heart to switch to another brand for another few months. Still, he comes back to them, the comfort they bring always soothing him down when he’s stressed. It’s odd that you would mention “not forgetting” about them.
An inhale and then another sigh.
He’ll just confront you. Ask you what you know and why you’re so terribly familiar with him. And if you don’t tell him then would it be so bad to dangle a first date over your head? Probably. But it wouldn’t be the worst thing he’s done to a girl… He’d explore puppy love with you if he knew whatever secret it was you were hiding.
So it’s decided. He grinds the bud under his toe with resolve and all but marches back into the gym, planting himself beside you on the bench. While his plan is somewhat formed, he didn’t exactly know when he’d ask you about it. Maybe after pra- no, he doesn’t need another tea mishap.
“That’s it for today,” you call while standing up. Keishin’s eyebrows scrunch together as he looks between you and his watch. He didn’t think he took that long on his break. “Our practice match with Seijoh is next week so for the rest of this week we’ll just keep drilling this stuff in.” You look down your shoulder at him, waiting for any elaboration he can add.
“Right. So tomorrow…”
The rest isn’t important. Well, it is, but he could do that in his sleep. It’s all part of the routine he built up anyway, but asking you to share your secrets is taking a bit more precedence in his mind at the moment.
But he’s a grown man. He can get through another practice or two without pestering you (take notes, damn kid) and settle for the weekend. Each day passes and he nearly forgets to ask you on Friday, especially when he has yet another day filled with errands.
“Hey.” You look up from the clipboard in your lap. “I have stuff to do in the faculty office for us both to work on.”
In all honesty, he was expecting you to jump at the idea. He knows how you operate — you’d probably jump his bones if it weren’t for Takeda being around every practice. But much to his dismay (damn, is he really upset by it?) you don’t bite.
“The managers aren’t here today, Coach,” you pout. “One of us has to stay and help Takeda on Fridays.”
Blinking, he looks around the room to see that you’re right. He didn’t realize they were gone, so tunneled in on getting a chance to spill his questions to you that he didn’t bother seeing who was even present. Just his luck. “Right, don’t worry ‘bout it, I’ll handle it.”
“Oo, so manly,” you coo, licking your lips while still looking up at him from your seat. He barely sees Takeda pale in the corner of his eye, but he’s almost lost in the sight of you so low in front of him, at a very, very ironic height considering your consistently inappropriate attitude.
He almost has the mind to grab your head and-
“Shut up, will you?” He stalks off grumbling about your poor manners loud enough for you to hear. Just as he’s halfway out of the door — nearly getting plowed over by Kageyama and Hinata racing — he announces his departure to the team. “I’ll be back every now and then like usual.”
The new coaching system really is a pain in his neck. Weekly meetings and errands every Friday? It just seems like more busy work now that he’s actually getting paid to be a coach instead of volunteering after being haggled by his friend.
Whatever. The sooner he gets this all over with, the sooner he can get back to you and figure you the hell out. Flirting with him in public isn’t new, but it’d be great if you would tone it down some. He’ll have to bring that up to you later.
Except later never comes. The sun is barely on its last leg and he’s just the same by the time he finishes all that he needs to do. Again, why the hell isn’t this Takeda’s job?! He’s out of breath by the time he lugs himself back into the gym, finally here to stay rather than just peering in. Much to his surprise, it’s empty except for the aforementioned young man.
“Oh, Coach Ukai!” He jogs over, stepping around him and locking the door. “Practice ended early.”
“And whose call was that?” His eyebrow twitches in irritation.
Takeda gives him a pointed look that makes him gulp. That’s an answer in itself. The two of them saunter away from the school with the sunset basking over them. Besides the wind blowing, Keishin swears he hears the sound of the third years yelling off in the distance.
“By the way… What’s going on with you two?”
If only he had a cigarette to keep his mouth too busy to answer. “What are you talking about?”
“I-I don’t mean to intrude but I just didn’t realize you guys were dating.”
Nope, good thing he doesn’t have a cigarette — he would’ve choked. “We’re not dating…”
Takeda’s steps falter, staring at the younger man hard for him to continue his sentence. “…Yet?”
“Tch,” he dramatically shrugs his shoulders, the movement so large he does it with his arms too. “I don’t know. I need to talk to her about how she’s acting around me.”
“She definitely seems… fond of you.”
Fond is only the nice way to put it — they’ve both seen and heard your shameless acts. If only Takeda knew what you were actually capable of and how much it actually gets to the coach.
“Yeah, I know, but I’m sure it’s just a little crush. I was going to talk to her after practice today but she’s already gone.”
Takeda begins laughing as his steps pick up again. “She actually left early because I mentioned you might leave straight from the faculty office. She wanted to give you something, apparently.”
The lines in Keishin’s forehead appear from his confusion, walking alongside the other man. It’s definitely just a little girl crush. He’ll set you straight soon. “I’ll talk to her.”
“Completely unrelated… I can handle practice next Friday, by the way.”
He can’t tell if he’s grateful to be set up — would he say wing manned? — or dreading it, but his heart is racing all the same. The countdown to next Friday starts ticking with each of his steps home, each cigarette on Saturday, each customer on Sunday, and each bounce of the ball at practices on Monday through Thursday. The mental stopwatch was driving him mad.
The first thing he notices when he walks into the gym is that your skirt is way too fucking short. Be a doll and cut him some slack, won’t you? Somehow you know everything he likes and it’s killing him… But the next thing he notices when he walks into the gym is that Takeda is staring at him staring at you. The older man snickers before turning away, Keishin flushing up in pure embarrassment. He does not have a thing for you like that.
“Hey, guys.” Everyone looks over at Takeda, even you who was bending over to get something out of your bag. “Let’s get practice started so Coach Ukai can focus on his Friday errands.”
Loudly, everyone agrees, and just as Keishin is just about to approach you, Yachi gets to you first, diving deep into a conversation that he doesn’t care about. Dammit, he just wants to get this over with already — what’s it gonna take for a man to have a talk with his assistant coach around here about her crush on him?
He calls your name, hoping he can at least motion for you to follow him to the faculty office. Whatever Yachi is talking about must be monumentally important. It better earn her a Nobel Peace Prize because you actually hold your finger up to him and don’t bother looking. Just a minute. He grinds his teeth and walks off.
Whatever. He’ll play your game and get cornered by you and then he’ll ask. Hell, why does he even want to know that bad? It’s not like he actually wants to date you or something. The toe of his sneaker scuffs against the tile when he comes to a stop.
He doesn’t… Yeah, he doesn’t want to. He’s not into kids who are eager to tease and eager to please like you. Too much energy and not enough…
He purses his lips in thought while sorting through the newest stack of papers.
Not enough… what? C’mon, Keishin, there’s gotta be something little ole you is lacking.
His chest expands from the huge breath he takes in, all his troubles filling him up and taking root even when he exhales. You’re just too interesting for him to not think about — that’s all. And not in a good way, of course. He’s beginning to think about you way too much at this point; he can smell that damn perfume again like it’s ingrained into his memories.
Oh, and your voice too, huh?
He glares at the paper in front of him, his back still facing the door.
“And here I thought I was imagining things,” he grumbles, turning around and dropping the sheet on the desk. It’s only now that he realizes he was reading it upside-down anyway. “What is it?”
You cock your head. “I dunno, Takeda told me you needed me here. Did I interrupt your daydreams?” That coy smile is playing on your pink lips — he can fucking see it.
“No,” he grunts while crossing his arms, “I’m working — something you should be doing too.”
Now the smile breaks out across your face. “I’m a hard worker, Coach. Want me to prove it?” You saunter forward, the only distance between the two of you being half a foot and a row of old desks.
“Yeah,” he starts, “you can do these strategy papers while you tell me why you act so suspicious around me.” He needs to busy you with something so that he can have the upper hand here. The small stack of papers needing to be filled in is perfect. You, being you, run your finger down the first sheet while locking eyes with him through your lashes.
“What are you talking about? You don’t like when I give you special treatment?”
Is that what you call it when you have him fleeing Karasuno? “It’s not about me, it’s about you,” he pushes.
Your eyes light up. “I’ll tell you if you do me a small favor.”
He knew this was a bad idea.
“I wanted to prove that I would be better than your ex-girlfriends at everything when it comes to you, so will you tell me if I was even a little bit successful?”
Yep, a bad idea indeed. If this was anyone else asking this question then maybe he’d just be put off, but instead, he’s put off by his own arousal. Why the hell are you looking at him like some unaware little girl that needs guidance and validation? What went through your head to make you look up at him with so much vulnerability that he would feel guilty if he told you anything bad? You flipped that switch in him that wants to help his juniors — the part of him that makes him a good coach but a morally terrible senior. He feels bad enough as it is — he really thought he was just having a moment of weakness by being slightly attracted to you — but now he’s left wondering if there’s a double meaning being the look you’re giving him. Knowing you, there probably hopefully is.
The silence between the two of you feels like it’s on fire, but it’s not burning away into nothing any time soon. He had hoped that maybe if he stared at you hard enough then you’d laugh it all off, but instead your lip fucking quivers and you drop your gaze. God, what’s he done now?
The breath he was holding huffs out bitterly. He’s in trouble. “How am I supposed to say no to that?” The words are muttered out half-heartedly with his hand rubbing the back of his neck. Still, your face doesn’t light up like before.
“C’mon, don’t look like that. I don’t know why you like me, but if you’re that concerned over being better than my exes then you should’ve just gotten to know me like normal. Y’know, asking me on a date and stuff. You were bold enough to ask much worse things than that.”
He doesn’t see your lips twitch in amusement, only your eyebrows furrowing more as if you’re still troubled by your own shortcomings. “So I was wrong, huh?”
He shakes his head almost instantly. The last thing he needs is for you to break out the waterworks or something. Now is probably the best time for him to be honest with you and himself. “Only a little. But I’ll level with you: I think there’s a chance for us if we go about it the right way. No weird tactics or secrets or anything like that.”
Another sigh leaves him and finally, he can feel a little bit of the weight on his shoulders ease up. It’s like he can let his guard down just a little. “I didn’t realize you just wanted to prove yourself to me this whole time, sheesh. You shoulda just said that and I’d’ve dropped some hints or something to make it bearable for us both.”
Finally, you perk up for him again, that pretty look in your eyes like he handed you a million dollars or something better. “Does that mean I had a chance this whole time?”
“A chance?” He laughs. “Kid, you cornered me in your living room asking me about my coach kink. I don’t think that has anything to do with chances.”
You deflate again.
“W-wait, wait.” He waves his hands in front of him, really hoping he can take that back. Not just because he doesn’t want to see you upset — he’s never seen you upset — but because he doesn’t want you to know that yes, he does have a coach kink now thanks to you. “I didn’t… mean it like that…? Ugh, just-” he snaps his fingers once and points at the desk “-come here.”
With confusion written across your forehead you walk around and sit where he pointed, your motions natural, he notes.
“Good, just like that. See? You’re already doing better than any girl I’ve been with in the past.” He watches you smile and his guilt almost goes away. Some part of him knows he should feel bad for taking advantage of your insecurities like this, but another part of him knows you wanted him to praise you even if it’s fucked up. He’s not the best person out there, but he’s the person you want, right? And if you really know him as well as you pretend then you’d already know that he’s not the type to shy away from underhanded tactics. You aren’t either, he knows that much.
His hands steady themselves on your shoulders, warm eyes boring into yours before the heat of his palms journeys down past your waist thighs right to your knees, spreading your legs for him to stand between them.
“Is this okay?” he asks, trying to salvage some semblance of normalcy. This isn’t even his or Takeda’s desk, but he guesses it’s as good as any. “Honestly, you’re really good looking, so you don’t have to worry about any of that stuff.” He begins to familiarize himself with your legs. “And even though you were a bit too forward it still worked to some extent. This is a one-time thing, though.”
“Just for today?” It seems you’ve finally found your voice and it holds a bit more of that confidence he’s familiar with. Of course, you’d be greedy and expect more than just today.
“You’re lucky I’m doing anything at all,” he points out with narrowed eyes, hands squeezing your bare thighs for good measure. Your knees close around him slightly. “I thought you had something to prove here.”
You tilt your chin up. “I do, but I can’t do much when you’ve got me on the desk like this.”
“Yeah?” He breathes a laugh and catches that defiant little chin in his grip while leaning in. “Would you rather be on your knees?”
He’s expecting a no. He’s always suspected you had a bratty side, or maybe that’s just his dick talking, but you definitely like to give him a hard time. This is certainly fun — coaxing you into giving him what he wants — and it’s even more fun when you pleasantly betray his expectations.
“Yes, please.” There’s that cursed look again: gleaming irises through thick lashes atop cute little cherry cheeks he wants to eat right up — the complete package. He’s starting to wonder just how indecent he really is when he gives you the space you need to settle between his legs on the ground.
Very, is the answer. Decency is the last thing in the room when his hand pets over your head gently. Your own are smoothing over his thighs, up and up so you can pull down his track pants and reveal the aching tent hiding behind them. And if decency comes last then degeneracy comes first, because something compels him to yank you forward by your hair and rub your cheek and nose against his cock, a hiss of pleasure slipping past his clenched teeth. Pleasure and relief. He didn’t realize that the only thing better than a million dollars would be feeling his assistant coach breathe deeply over his hard-on, but he sure was needing it.
And then he realizes that you’re breathing him in like your life depends on it, hands balled up around the material above his knees. You really are a naughty little girl — you wanted this just as bad and that only rings one happy alarm for him.
He doesn’t have to worry about going too far or holding back. “You’re asking for it; breathing all over me like that,” he laughs out softly, taking gooood care to guide your face up and down the heat in his crotch. You hum in approval, eyes closed in bliss and lips parting to take another breath in. “Fuck, be good and suck me off. You look like you want to, is that right?”
“Yes, Coach,” you practically sing, and you paw at his thighs while licking your lips just for him, a sight he’s seen so many times and now he can finally see it underneath him for real.
He lets go of your hair so you can straighten up enough to get busy, your hands pulling his briefs off like it’s another part of your job. Hard worker indeed, with your legs folded under you and pretty fingers running up the length of each vein like he’s seen you do with countless papers beforehand. He’s only half hard when you start, but by the time you look up at him and glide the leaking tip across your lips he’s aching. Seeing you with lipgloss after this won’t ever be the same.
You take just the head into your mouth, keeping your eyes on him for reassurance while you suckle softly. His big hand on your head is a tacit sign for you to take more even if he isn’t pushing you forward. You want to — you want to taste more of the liquid pleasure smeared on your lips and want to hear what sounds he would make. His eyebrows are pulled together sternly, but it only encourages you to take him further, tongue flat and laving over the bottom of his shaft and catching on the glans when you pull up. He twitches at the feeling and the cool air of the room, his fingers digging into your scalp just slightly.
“Am I doing well, Coach?” You ask with a honeyed voice and caramel glazed eyes. You look like you’d taste sweeter than you sound.
“Keep going and then I’ll tell you.” He pushes you onto his length how he wants, not wasting another second. The feeling of your cheeks suctioned around him is too good to pass up — he’s been needing this more than he knew. “Yeah, just like that. C’mon, you’re already taking me so much deeper than anyone else. You can do more, right?”
Your eyes water when the tip of his cock barely brushes against your throat, retreating just as fast, but it’s a hint of what he wants. He growls your name out as a low warning when you don’t take him in any deeper on your own. “Do you want me to do it for you? I don’t mind showing you how to pleasure a man.”
He buries your nose in his crotch anyway — if it was a no then he doesn’t care right now, and the way your eyes fall shut with those desperate gags for air filling the space between you… You’re an angel that will definitely be his undoing. The sight is too good, prompting him to do it again and again until he’s fucking your seizing throat, feeling the tight suction it provides every time he slips a few inches past your comfort zone. It feels so fucking amazing.
“You’re so good at this, princess,” he praises, almost cooing the words over the obscene sounds falling from your lips. His thighs tense when he sees your lashes clumping together with unshed tears. “Fuck, if we keep going then I’ll cum down your throat. You know how long it’s been since I could cum just from a blow job? You’re setting the standard pretty damn high already.”
As if your little moans of pleasure weren’t enough of a sign, you start clenching your thighs together, rubbing them while he uses your mouth and throat as a cocksleeve. Of course, you’d get off on this. He knew he got fucking lucky with you. Who cares if you’re hiding some weird secret when you’re this desperate to have any hole stuffed; he’s happy to be the one doing the stuffing.
“You want me to cum in your mouth, is that it?” He hisses in appreciation when you suck harder, the sloppy action losing its grip with his relentless motions. You’re a champ for trying when he’s this brutal — his exes usually just let him do what he wants but it was rare he got to fuck their faces and rarer they did anything else besides sit there. Of all people, he didn’t think you’d be the one trying your damned hardest to make him blow his load before the actual sex. Maybe you deserve a treat.
He blinks away the sweat in his eye, taking you in for a spare moment: shiny lips wrapped tight around his cock and eyes brimmed with tears but locked on him nonetheless, burning with determination and begging with desperation. You crave him at the same time that you’re daring him to give in. You deserve a treat.
His balls slap against your chin just a few more times, letting him relish in your slurpy gagging once more before he pulls out to just the tip. In perfect, almost needy synchronization, you swirl your tongue around him, ending the motion right over the hole now spurting pulse after pulse of white, gooey goodness into your mouth. You coax him on with the devilish muscle, and he nearly has half the mind to fuck your face again for good measure, the fingers of both hands twitching in your hair at the thought. It’d be nice to fuck his cum down your throat. Maybe another time.
“Don’t swallow,” he breathes, pulling out and tilting your head back. “Open.” Sure, he just came all in your mouth — that much is obvious — but the sight of it all tends to the embers in his stomach, blowing the flames alive once more. He trails his hands down to cup your cheeks, reassuring thumbs swiping away at any stray tears with so much tenderness in comparison to his previous animalistic actions. And as if to drown them out completely, he spits right into your mouth, thumbs stroking over your heated cheeks all the while.
“Good girl.” He steps back and snaps his fingers again, and this time you don’t have to see him pointing to bend over the papers. “Don’t spill any or else you’ll be writing on messy papers,” he mentions casually, running those fingers down your panty-wedged slit. You’re wet alright, pushing back into him like you knew he wanted to tease the little camel toe and darkening spot. Yet another thing he’d have to ask you about, but he settles for pulling your panties down under your skirt. There’s a brief pause to admire the swell of your ass; he really lucked out. “But I know a hard worker like you wouldn’t do that.”
His voice is almost patronizing, almost as if he knows you the way you know him. He doesn’t miss the throb between your legs while he’s bent down behind you, but he’s not going to waste another second. Your cunt matches the rest of you — wet, messy, begging for attention, and probably just as deceitful with secrets deep inside.
Don’t mind if I do… He flips the back of your skirt up and gives your ass a squeeze, almost out of courtesy. As if there’s any shred of decency left in him when he came and spat in his lovesick assistant coach’s mouth and now has her bent over for him on some poor teacher’s desk. The least he can do is warn cute little you right before he shoves his hard, fat cock into you.
Just because he’s nice like that.
“Would it be cruel if I made you beg right now? That’s what the other girls did.” It was cruel for him to add on that last line and he knows it. “You can do that for me, right? You’re pretty helpful already, sucking me off like that.”
“Huh?” He leans over you as if you spoke just fine and he merely missed the words. “Speak-” he pushes the first three inches in without warning “-up.”
You squeeze your eyes shut, feet stretching to put you on your tiptoes for him.
“C’mon, you’re really gonna be a brat and not answer me now?” He draws his hips back. “Tell me you’re gonna be good and let your coach fuck you with his cum in your mouth.”
“I hohua ee-”
The head of his cock smashes against your cervix with the right amount of pressure to make you see stars and a pleasing splat is heard in the room.
“Tch, now look at what you did. Don’t play with your food.” His words are tight though a clenched jaw, hips slapping against your ass quicker than he was fucking your face earlier. The following thrusts aren’t as deep as the first, but he doesn’t need to push the two of you so far to feel good. Your cunt is just like the rest of you, it turns out, and he’s addicted all the same. It feels even better when he hears the drippy slurping sounds coming from your mouth, a desperate attempt to keep yourself from drooling cum and spit over the already ruined papers.
He grins. “You’re getting paid to be fucked by your coach and you let yourself make a mess. I didn’t even get paid my first year as coach, you know that?” His thrusts get a little bit harsher with his tone as if to let his frustrations out on you. Maybe this is just what he needed — this pussy definitely makes every moment of his job worth it.
He can hear your little muffled whines through the watery puddle in your mouth just as well as he can hear the wet clicking from your pussy being slammed by him. If you’re trying to be quiet, you’re not doing a very good job of it. Or maybe he’s fucking you that hard — showing you how he really likes to be pleased and how you can really do a good job for him. Proving your worth isn’t that hard, huh? Not when you’ll so easily bend over for him with little effort on his end. The sack thumping against your clit tightens at the same time that you pulse around him fervently. He deepens his thrusts to get right where it feels best.
For the first time that afternoon, he groans loud, earning another virginal squeeze. “You cumming already?”
Like a good little girl, you nod. You wouldn’t lie to your coach.
He grazes over another spot in you — you seem to have a lot — that makes your back arch and a sharp mmph! leave your sealed lips. The suction around him gets even tighter, your womb sucking on the tip of his cock just like you were earlier. “Oh, I definitely did something there, huh? You’re making me feel so damn good, princess.”
Another splat and he doesn’t bother to hold back the grin on his face, getting liberal with the noises he lets out. Each groan is steamy, and he can feel your reaction to them. If he wasn’t holding your hips still then there’s no doubt in his mind that you’d be fucking yourself back onto him — you just seem that eager. And luckily he’s no different. Every time he buries himself deep into you he can feel that same little kiss you give the sensitive head of his cock, reminding him of how your tongue played with him moments before. “This body of yours sure does know me well,” he moans, and he doesn’t have to add on that your slutty little cunt is just like your slutty little mouth: desperate for him to fill you up so he can claim you in the most deplorable way.
It’s like you know he wants to cum in you again and you’re sucking him in that much more, making it hard for him to pull out. His fingers hurt from how hard they’re holding the bones of your hips, but the wet heat feels so good and your little moans are pushing him far past sanity.
“You wanna be better than the others, right?” You whine a soaked yes that has more pre slipping from the slit snuggly pushed against your cervix with each aching thrust. “Then let me cum in you. You’ll do that, right?”
He thought he knew you well enough that you’d say yes again, but he underestimated you. Your body begs for it before your mouth can, pussy clamping around him to trap him inside and hips trying to twitch back to meet the piston he’s created. He shouldn’t have expected any less from his little assistant coach — he was the one who trained you after all.
It’s sinful, absolutely a bad idea in every sense of the words but it’s a good feeling when he shoots his vile seed into you, grunts and moans of your name falling from his lips as you cream around him. His pelvis doesn’t stop rocking against you, displacing the mess between your legs that didn’t get deposited into your needy womb, only to cake up on the front of his thighs. The sweat on his brow does nothing to cool him in the heat of the room, steaming breaths from each of you filling the air. He barely manages to pull his fingers out of the indents he left before you’re whining again.
“You okay?” He leans forward and kisses the top of your head, leaving another for good measure while he eases his way out of you. Another whine and he’s soothing a hand up your back. “What’s wrong?”
Then he hears that familiar splat, only this time it’s from between your legs and he can’t help but smirk. “Right, I almost forgot…” He pulls your head back by your hair, taking in your blown out, half-lidded eyes and gaping mouth, chin running with cum, spit, and anything else that would be deemed the complete opposite of holy water. He watches your little pink tongue twitch in it all, teasing him. He definitely wants to fuck his cum down your throat. “Let me see you swallow, princess.”
Boy, do you make a show of it. He swears you must have heard him say it before because you roll your tongue through it all just how he likes it before trailing the tip of the little muscle over your upper lip and gulping. He almost loses the grip in your hair — the only thing holding you both together — when you loll your tongue out, showing off your hard work. Fuck you. Damn him, he really wants to fuck you again.
He unweaves his fingers from your hair, stroking over the frizzed strands and keeping his weight off of you with the other hand on the desk. It’s too warm but he doesn’t want to part from you on some tacit instinctual level. You look up at him so pretty too, mascara along your eyes bleeding like watercolors into the dewy sweat and the rest of your all too erotic expression. You only pull your tongue back in to smile up at him, angelically, as ironic as that is.
“You did good — really good,” he murmurs, one last kiss on your hairline. It shouldn’t feel so natural, but his lips are drawn to you right now. Maybe it’s just the post-sex high. Doing things out of order is okay too… God, his head is spinning. “Best sex I’ve had in… maybe ever.”
“Thank you,” you breathe dreamily, resting your head on your arms now. “I can’t wait to tell my sister about this.”
“Hm?” His hand squeezes at the junction where your shoulder and neck meet, massaging any knots away and keeping as much soft contact as possible. This is fine, right? He still needs to ask you about the way you’re acting, but he can spare you some affections and a little lip service without crossing any lines (whatever lines are left). “You guys close or something? That’s cute.” He leaves another kiss on your head. He doesn’t know what your limits are, but hopefully, he can soothe you just enough.
“No, but I know she’d lose her shit when she finds out I fucked her ex-boyfriend better than she ever could.”
Smug. That devilish smug tone and smirk you usually have are back and he isn’t sure if he missed it or not. Now his head is spinning for different reasons — the cigarettes, the perfume, the skirt… They aren’t yours.
Fuck you.
Fuck him because he doesn’t feel as mad as he should — he’s relieved, all the mysteries falling into place. He didn’t even know she had a little sister (or any siblings for that matter), but… If you guys aren’t close then-
“That makes sense,” he sighs, defeated yet glad. He really did underestimate you but now it’s like he can almost breathe again. “Wait.” He stands up straight, eyes narrowed and heart racing. “Then you don’t actually have a crush on me?”
You face him and smile. “I didn’t say that, Coach.”
And you’d never lie to your coach.
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HUGE THANK YOU TO MY BETASSSS @dorkyama​​ @kingkags​​ @tamcitrus​​
{ ukai nsfw taglist — tell me if you want to be added or taken off: @hunnybby​​ @megalodon-writes​​ @revasserium​​ @vventure​​ @nixhinoya​​ @kingkags​​ @stelleum​​ @tamcitrus​​ @dorkyama​​ @loneveenas​​ @estherwritess​​ @chaoticgirl-writing​​ @ukaiscumdumpster​​ }
{ hq nsfw taglist — tell me if you want to be added or taken off: @sckusa​​​ @for-ests​​​ @ksyy​​​ @vventure​​​ @leiasfanaccount648​​​ @marshyrebelcloud​​​ @iwaizumi-chan​​​ @janellion​​​ @curiouslilbeast​​​ @tomo-uwu​​​ @samwritesss​​​ @dyosatalaga​​​ @dearest-kiyoomi​​​ @therealwalmartjesus​​​ @dorkyama​​​ @makkihoe​​​ @basicallyberry​​​ @sarcasti-cally​​​ @yams046​​​ @atsumunotsangwoo​​​ @chiibichann​​​ @namyari​​​ @kozumebri​​​ @daughter-of-stark​​​ @hakuna-your-matatas-darling​​​ @differentballooncollection​​​ @chou-maitresse​​​ @sally-wonders​​​ @kokogxddess​​​ @chaosamu​​​ @brujeriaclub​​​ @wolfblix​​​ @chaoticgirl-writing​​​ @ladyinmoon​​​ @kunimwuah​​​ @nekoma-hoe​​​ @richkookie​​​ @thenezuko​​​ @justxtulyyy​​​ @badboysdoitbetter2​​​​ @shnnn​​​ @uhlekayuh2​​​ @scrappydaisies​​​ @shotoscoldsoba​​​ @edensxgarden​​ }
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reddriot · 4 months ago
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sawamura daichi ✧ captain of the karasuno high volleyball team
we'll never win if we don't believe we can.
happy birthday, ian! (@katsukes) i hope you have a wonderful day and an even better year!
558 notes · View notes
myelocin · 10 months ago
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synopsis: sakusa, the only constant in your life was the love that taught you two was enough. life, on the other hand, teaches you that in the unpredictability of things, a serendipity is bound to redefine the things you’ve considered as truth your whole life. 
characters: sakusa kiyoomi, you, +bonus character!
genre: fluff, a little bit of hurt/comfort, domestic/firstlove to marriage au, parenting!au, mentions of adoption, tw//mentions of abandonment & death
wc: 6.5k
a/n: um so this was a plot for makki but i am a joke, so here we have sakusa once again, and no, for once this isn’t an angst. | playlist: symmetry (JT Roach) ((atm not that edited lol))
“It’s cold,” you say and Sakusa’s quick to wrap his scarf around your neck.
Each time he does, you consider it as a win. Sakusa was never one to particularly prefer excessive public displays of affection, but more often times than he’d like, you always manage to catch him in moments he was feeling a little more relaxed.
Autumn, Sakusa thinks just may be his most favorite season by far. Something about the chill in the air, slightly emptier streets, and the changing colors of the leaves did just the trick to make the lengthy walks from school to train station a little more bearable.
And of course, Sakusa smiles, another reason was you.
“It’s cold,” you’d tell him time and time again, especially during the final weeks of November where the last few leaves were threatening to fall as winter slowly rolled around. He knew you kept your own scarf tucked deep inside your school bag, under the notebooks where you scrawl some notes from the board in the margins at best, and beside the empty bento box that you always share with him during lunch.
But despite that, he’d only sigh before looping the dark green scarf he washes multiple times a week snug around your neck.
“You really need to start bringing your scarf,” he’d tell you, adding some comments as an afterthought that sounded more muffled under his mask, but you’d only beam at him in response.
You know he never minded.
And you’re glad he doesn’t—because after school walks with Sakusa Kiyoomi in the late autumn, who also happened to be your first friend and your first love, was your favorite perk in the season.
Sakusa, who you’ve known for most of your life. The kid from down the block who chose to walk around the rain puddles when everyone else around his age—at the time—only sought to hop straight into them.
“Why don’t you play in the rain puddles?” you remember yourself asking, opting to stand across him from the other side of the puddle as you watched him furrow his brows together and step away from the edge where water met concrete.
“I don’t want my grandma to spend extra time cleaning my rain boots,” was his reply, and you can still—to this day—recall the determined look on Sakusa Kiyoomi’s eight year old face as nodded his head at his own answer and moved even further away from the puddle.
The two little moles above his eyebrow looked like the connect the dots, well, dots, from your activity book back home and it was then that you decided to make it your mission to befriend the cautious boy who avoided puddles because he loved his grandmother.
And it worked, you suppose, because more than ten years down the road, instead of walking around the puddles on the pavement, you spend your afternoons either watching him spike through blocks after school, or like now—tell him that you’re cold, when in truth all you wanted to do was just be warm in his warmth.
“Did you change the fabric softener?” you ask him, smelling something like peaches and cream instead of his usual scent of fresh linen.
“I did,” Sakusa hums. “Do you not like it?” he asks, but doesn’t really face you. He faces forward and watches for the pedestrian light to flicker back to green, so he watches the number count down as he waits for your response to his question.
“I like it,” you smile, pushing the fabric up against your face as you hide your smile behind the scent of peaches.
“Ah, that’s good to know,” Sakusa replies, almost immediately. He thinks about the crinkled receipt from your favorite boutique at the mall sitting between the pages of his textbook and decides that going through the awkward conversation with the salesladies gushing about how sweet of a boyfriend he is, was completely worth it.
But more so, he’s almost glad that like the receipt you didn’t see—you also don’t notice the way he’s already smiling under the mask.
“It’s cold,” you tell him almost seven years later, the smile on your face still as teasing as before, as you wait for him to open his arms for an embrace this time instead of just the scarf from before.
Peaches, Sakusa thinks. Your hair still smells like peaches after all these years. On the other hand, he can’t really bring himself to mind; he thinks he’s come around to realize that peaches are his favorite flavor now.
“When are you not cold?” Sakusa comments, the tone of his voice sounding a little clipped, but you only laugh in return. Despite the bark in his voice, he tightens his arms around you as you glance up, peeking at him huffing clouds into the winter air.
“What time’s the bus coming?” you ask, breaking away from him and opting to hug him from the side instead. He still feels warm, so you smile and press your cheek against the sleeve of his jacket.
“In about ten minutes,” he answers. “Could be a while though, if there’s a lot coming on and off depending on the stop.”
“Wanna wait inside the café?” he suggests, motioning towards the one right across the street.
You shake your head, letting go of his arm and wrapping your hands around his midriff instead, saying, “I’m warm right now so it’s okay.”
Beneath his mask, he smiles—and looking at him, this time you could tell. You’ve been with him long enough to notice the way the corners of his eyes crinkle every time he smiles.
Sakusa realizes he likes looking at you like that, and the moments he shares with you after every time you say you’re cold are quick to become his favorite.
You, with your sheepish smiles, fruit themed keychains, and love for the autumn weather.
He smiles, watching you as you take the seat closest to the window first before quickly wiping the seat he’s meant to take with the disinfectant wipes you keep in your bag.
“Thanks,” he murmurs, feeling his heart warm even more when you smile at him.
For him, it’s not the way you remember the little things about him, but rather, it’s the unspoken way you go on about it. The almost natural flow you pulled him into, that he just knows you outlined with nothing but consideration.
You liked jumping straight for the puddles, but he preferred watching you smile with his rain boots dry. He knew you preferred to drink your coffee with a little more cream and sugar than he did, and even if he didn’t mind sweeter drinks from time to time—he always appreciates you asking how much cream and sugar he’d like for his regardless.
And it worked the same for you, you realize.
In silence, you notice how Sakusa always spends a second longer to look at you every time you pull out the wipes you keep in your bag just for him, and feel your heart warm when he laces your hand together afterwards.
You knew well enough that he preferred to keep his hands to himself, but the exceptions he makes for you were always appreciated on your end.
“I know I can be a little much sometimes,” he told you once, some years ago, when you were at the stage in your relationship where it felt safe to be with each other in complete vulnerability.
“I don’t mind,” you told him, because the truth was you really didn’t—and still don’t—mind. “You’re just a little more cautious than some, and that’s okay.”
“You being a little more on the cautious side isn’t all there is to you, Omi,” was the last thing you said as you cupped his face in between your hands.
And to this day, you don’t forget the way his eyes soften with the thanks he whispers as he turns his head and kisses you on the palm of your hand that night.
“We should make something for dinner tonight instead of eating out,” you quip next to him. You watch the people on the streets walk when the bus slows, and blur when it picks up momentum again. You hold Sakusa’s hand in between yours, absentmindedly playing with his fingers and the sleeve of his coat.
“Sounds good,” you hear him answer, before adding, “do we need to stop by the grocery store?”
You think about it, your eyes focusing on the child outside your window, lollipop in hand and a Totoro backpack behind him, as you mentally go over what you remembered what you saw in your refrigerator that morning.
“I think we’re all good,” you say. “But we can pick up some fruit for dessert?”
Sakusa doesn’t really think about it; he just nods. He could always go for some peaches, he supposes.
When the scenery outside begins to blur again, you turn to face his hand outstretched on your lap and begin to lightly scratch his open palm, then slyly look to the side where he’s facing you, watching for a change in his expression.
There isn’t one; if anything, he stares at you with his brow raised.
“Does it not tickle?” you huff, holding his palm open and tracing over the middle with the tip of your nails instead.
“No,” he answers and you huff, pursing your lips before you ultimately decide to just lace your fingers through his instead. Sakusa squeezes your hand when you slot yours on top of his, and you turn to him, smiling.
“Love you,” you say, and even if you do so out of the blue, Sakusa chooses to smile. With his other hand, he pulls his mask down and leans towards you to press a kiss on your cheek, noticing how the skin’s a little cold compared to his lips.
“Love you too,” he murmurs and when you turn to him and give him another smile—the one that’s wide enough for him to make out the crinkling lines on the corners of your eyes, an epiphany strikes him.
He loves you.
Sakusa’s struck with the epiphany that he’s never been more in love with you than how he feels in this very moment.
But he realizes a second later, that he’s had this thought before too.
Yesterday, when he woke up before you and the alarm and spent the seven minutes before 07:30 admiring how beautiful you looked with the spilled light highlighting the plains of your face. Last month, when he came home early from practice and watched you slightly dance off beat in the kitchen to the tune of a song he recalls you singing in the shower that same morning. Seven years ago, when he noticed you always packing an extra pair of chopsticks and pieces of fruit in your bento box for you to share with him during lunch.
Sakusa Kiyoomi realizes that even if the two of you were nothing short of being the personification of oil and water, as time moves forward, he only spends the twenty four hours of his day unearthing moments with you where he feels his heart so full that it seems like he can’t love you any more than he does in the moment.
Looking down at your hands where your left is intertwined with his right, he smiles. Sakusa thinks of the ring he remembers you commenting was pretty when you were at the mall a few weeks ago. He imagines how your hand would look with the ring he knows he’ll buy for you.
Then when you squeeze his hand, briefly turning at him with a smile as you point at the child outside with raccoon-themed backpack, Sakusa feels a familiar warmth flood his chest as his eyes zeroes in on you as he feels himself smile.
He wonders if the smile you have now would look the same when you see the ring he’ll hold out for you when he does so with one knee on the ground.
And even if the ground were to have puddles that day, he supposes it would be worth it.
It’s three years later, after a breathless “yes,” tearful “I do,” and keys to your first house where he hears you say “It’s too cold,” again.
It’s the middle of the winter when you walk out the door, meaning to stop by the convenience store nearby when you make it outside the gate of your home and see a child standing outside with a dull gray backpack and while he wears a too thin cardigan.
Sakusa sets his cup down, looks at you frantically calling him to come to the door, and grabs his coat and scarf as he makes his way to you.
When he walks out of the door and makes it in front of the gate, he sees you, squatting a little awkwardly in front of the child—who doesn’t look to be more than the age of even five— stare at you with the grey backpack pressed to his chest and a slight tremble to his form.
He recognizes the look on your face—and he knows that right at this moment your heart is already clenching.
“Where’s your mama?” you ask with a voice as gentle as your approach, and Sakusa decides to sit this one out as he stands behind you instead, leaning against the opened corner of the gate.
“She said I have to stay here,” he murmurs quietly, and when his body trembles again, Sakusa feels his fingers itch to wrap the scarf around him. You’re right—it is too cold for a child to be out in a weather like this.
“Did she go somewhere? What about your papa?” you ask again, deciding to maintain your distance when the child in front of you begins to sniffle and tear up.
“I don’t have a papa,” he whispers, then sniffles again. “But I have a mama and she said she’ll be back so I’ll stay right here!”  he finishes, puffing his cheeks in what you think is an attempt to keep the tears together.
You look at Sakusa, who stares at you looking equally unsure with what to do with the situation, but when he notices that you’re at a point where you’re at a loss of words, he chimes in for you. “How long have you been out here?”
Smiling, you shift to the side and listen as Sakusa’s voice softens when he addresses the child again. He’d make a great father, you think.
“Here since…” the child trails off, then looks up when he remembers something. “—since after breakfast!”
Your brows furrow, and when you look at Sakusa, you notice that his expression mirrors yours. “Breakfast?” you hear Sakusa repeat, then look at the watch on your wrist. “It’s already five pm.”
“Have you eaten at all?” Sakusa instead asks him, and your heart can only squeeze again when he shakes his head no.
“You said your mama just went to the convenience store, right? I’m on my way to go there so if I see someone maybe it’s her,” you say and the boy finally looks at you like he isn’t scared.
“Can you tell me your name? So she can recognize who I’m talking about,” you ask him again and he nods his head slowly before replying, “Arai Kazue,” with a small bow afterwards.
You smile; he’s still polite despite being scared.
“Do you wanna wait inside? It’s warm, and this uncle—“ you pause, gesturing towards Sakusa, “—can cook something so you can eat.”
His eyes brighten for a second, before he looked back down towards his shoes. “What if mama is on her way back, I don’t want her to worry.”
You check the time, glancing up towards Sakusa who only shrugs his shoulders. “I’ll be quick then,” you reassure him, and he bows again after a quiet thank you.
Kazue shivers again, and before you could unwrap your own scarf, Sakusa is already squatting down next to you, wrapping the boy in familiar fabric.
“It’s cold,” Sakusa says, and bundles up the boy under more layers.
“She’s not at the 7/11, or the two Family Marts on the other street,” you tell Sakusa when you made it home.
It’s a little past six pm by now, and you’re at least thankful that your husband had managed to convince Kazue to wait for her inside after sticking a note outside their gate that would tell the mother—if she came—that he was inside waiting for her.
“Has he said anything?” you ask, and sigh when Sakusa shakes his head no.
“Do you think….?” you ask, trailing off and lowering the volume of your voice even more when you look at Kazue sitting in the living room, a bowl of ramen in front of him as he watches the television play a show you only skipped past in that respective channel.
“That she left him there on purpose?” he finishes for you, and you sigh, suddenly feeling like your shoulders are as heavy as the weight of the possibility in your husband’s words.
“Maybe,” you sigh, not really looking forward to uncover the truth because of all the red flags already popping up in the situation. “We should just call the police,” he suggests and you nod in agreement, deciding that for the moment that really was just your only option.
The maybe, you referred to moments ago was later confirmed to just be the case because when Kazue later opens his backpack to show you the superhero he drew last night in his drawing book, a letter tumbles out before the book.
“Can I take a look at this?” you ask him, holding up the folded piece of paper with writing that clearly didn’t look like his, and he nods, before turning to face Sakusa as he flips through the pages of his drawing book.
You meet Sakusa’s eyes midway, and he nods for you to read the contents of the letter before he faces Kazue again, expression knit together like he was leaning something new.
“I’m sorry,” it reads, and it isn’t specifically addressed to anybody. “I can’t take care of him anymore,” it continues and your heart practically drops as you continue to skim through the sentences forming one after the other.
You notice the lines on the paper are smooth instead of soft; not a crinkle in the edges, or smudges on the ink. She’s been planning this, you notice, and when you look at Kazue who beams at Sakusa’s patient smile, your heart clenches even more.
“I know you and your husband haven’t had a child yet, and I don’t know if you’re even trying for one, but I know the both of you will be well enough to take care of Kazue.”
“I have no one else, and when I leave, he will have no one else.”
“He’s a kind boy,” it reads towards the end, and this is where you notice the strokes of the letters beginning to look a little more inconsistent.
“He eats his vegetables well, and he listens to his elders.”
You think about the empty bowl on your sink and remember Sakusa’s comment about how surprised he was that a child at his age actually managed to finish the variety of vegetables he knows even adults have trouble keeping down.
“I know I’m not in a good space to take care of him like he deserves, and I’m at a point in my life where I can’t continue,” you further read and your stomach drops when the next line ends.
“If you accept him, thank you, but if this situation just happened to burden you, then I’m sorry.”
Sakusa looks at you when you fold the letter back and choose to keep it in your hand instead of tucking it back into Kazue’s backpack. The zipper’s ripped off, you notice, and the straps look as worn as the scratches on the front pocket.
They must have had a tougher life, you think, and when Sakusa looks at you looking like he’s waiting for answers, you stay quiet because you don’t really know what to say.
By the time Kazue’s asleep in the guest room of your house, first you think about how plain the covers of the guest bed look next to the opened drawing book laid at the foot of the bed, all the colors of the rainbow looking like life against the white sheets behind it.
Then second, you think about the officer’s words that’s still ringing in your ear.
“We found a body by the river,” he said. “We recovered a wallet with a photo of that boy inside,” he continues, and it’s 01:09 in the morning when the weight in your heart overwhelms you and you finally begin to cry.  
Much like the both of you expected, the weeks after that day didn’t come easy. Kazue, much like his mother said in the letter, really is a kind boy. He listened to his elders and patiently waited for them to finish speaking before he added some comments of his own.
Even as you watched him listen to the officer scramble for words to explain the reality of his situation, he told them thank you for finding his mama before turning around and crying.
The investigation happened quickly, and it surprised you when Sakusa was quick to offer that Kazue was welcome to stay in the house during the process, seeing as none of the extended family members the police reached out to bother to respond.
“Are you looking to adopt?” was a question the officer automatically asked, and you could feel Kazue’s form stiffen in between you and Sakusa.
“We can take care of the costs for her funeral,” Sakusa instead replies, and when the officer looks at you in shock at the offer, you only nod your head.
“Thank you,” Kazue later says in the car ride home. He’s quiet afterwards, and Sakusa chooses to leave the car in silence as you continue to drive through the city, choosing to stop by the bakery on the way home to buy the cupcakes you saw doodled in the margin of Kazue’s sketchbook.
“What kind of cupcake would you like, Kazue?” you ask, turning around as you unbuckle your seatbelt.
He perks up in his seat behind you, fiddling with the buckle of his seatbelt as he puffs his cheeks and tells you, “It’s okay, I can eat whatever you pick.”
Sakusa beside you softens, then says, “You should go in with her so you can see what they have and pick out the one you like the most.”
“Can I?” he asks, looking at you, and you smile, slipping on your scarf as you push the car open. “Let’s go,” you call and Kazue clicks the buckle of his seatbelt, following in your suit.
“Make sure to put your scarf on,” Sakusa reminds, gesturing to the scarf he bought for him that morning. Sakusa smiles when he loops it around his neck, counting to three just like he taught him earlier, and tells him thank you, before opening the door and grabbing your hand as you walk to the entrance.
Despite the heaviness of the situation, Sakusa lets himself sit for a while in the moment. For now, the heater in the car feels warm against his skin, and the smile on Kazue’s face as he grabs your hand and walks into the adequately lit bakery is bright. Then he looks at you, soft smiles and patient eyes as you hold the door open for him to walk through.
Sakusa thinks it kind of looks like home.
“What’s gonna happen to him?” you ask Sakusa a week after Kazue’s mother was laid to rest.
You sit in your side of the bed, keeping your voice hushed despite Kazue staying in the room on the other side of the house. Sakusa walks out of the bathroom, grey sweatpants and a plain blue tee on, before he takes a seat on his side.
He thinks back to the boy, at how red his face looked as he cried into your shoulder while you carried him back to the car after the burial. Then, at the drawing of the three of you Kazue shyly presented during dinner earlier that night.  
“The police are probably coordinating with the people that will take him in,” he answers you after taking some time to think about your question.
“Didn’t none of the relatives call back? And isn’t his father already gone too?”
“Yeah,” Sakusa sighs, pressing his fingers to his temple, choosing not to look at you when he notices the urgency your tone gives away. In a way, he already knew of the question you were unintentionally leading up to.
“Kazue will probably be in foster care or the orphanage,” Sakusa finishes and beside him, you feel your heart already drop.
“Is the system going to be good for him?” you ask, turning your head so that your eyes meet Sakusa’s profile.
“I don’t know,” Sakusa answers, and truthfully, you aren’t even certain yourself if you want to know the answer.
“He’s just a child,” you say and Sakusa looks at you, sighing before he nods his head.
“Too young,” he murmurs and with that you put the book down and shuffle closer to him, watching with baited breath as you spill the thoughts in your head.
“Should we take him in?” you say quietly, and Sakusa’s eyes are quick to meet yours upon yours words.
“You mean adopt him?” he says a little quietly, the hesitation in his voice being the first tone you automatically pick up.
“I don’t want him to feel like he’s going to be left behind again,” you answer, truthfully, sighing as you recognize the undertone in your husband’s voice. Sakusa, for as long as you knew him was a man who practiced caution.
He was, is, and judging from this moment, will always be the one in the relationship to heed to practicality and reason instead of just flowing with the current. Like you’re doing now, you suppose.
“He’s been with us for less than a month, (y/n),” Sakusa tells you, his reminder not more than a whisper and it’s the softness and truth in them that finally gets you to see things from his perspective.
“The world is going to break him,” you say, and when you think back to Kazue smiling at you as he tells you thank you for the cupcakes you buy every other night—that’s when you finally feel the sadness spill from your eyes.
“He’s a kind boy,” Sakusa whispers when he opens his arms and lets you crawl into his side. “He’s tough enough to get through things.”
“The world isn’t kind,” you mutter against his chest, and despite Sakusa rubbing circles on your back to soothe the cries, he feels like he’s still at a loss for words.
Then when he goes to sleep that night, Sakusa dreams of empty sketchbooks and thin cardigans in winter weather.
He ceases to find rest that night.
“Why don’t you go out and play with the others?” you suggest, leaning down to Kazue’s height as you point to the playground not too far off. “Uncle Omi and I will be able to watch you from here.”
Kazue looks at you like he’s unsure of what to respond, then for a second lets go of your hand before deciding to reach forward and grasp it again.
“Last night was too rainy,” he says and you look at him, confused. Sakusa, beside you, does the same.
“Too many puddles on the ground,” Kazue explains, then looks down as he rocks himself to and fro with the balls of his feet. You smile; Kazue looks as cute in the yellow raincoat and matching rain boots Sakusa bought for him as he does wearing the raccoon themed backpack he shyly pointed to at the mall some days ago.
“Of course there are puddles, Kazue, it was raining last night,” you smile, letting go of his hand as you walk forward and lightly hop in the puddle.
Sakusa smiles as he watches you—it kind of feels like he’s looking at a page in the past.
But beside him, Kazue isn’t. Instead, he walks towards Sakusa and holds onto the edge of his coat as he continues to shake his head no.
“I know that Uncle doesn’t like when the things you have are too dirty,” Kazue begins; beside him, Sakusa looks down, eyebrows drawn together.
“He bought me these nice clothes so I don’t wan’ to get them dirty,” he finishes, smiling at Sakusa when he looks up at catches his eye.
“Thank you!” he says again, and you watch, with your heart somewhere between bursting and melting as your husband wordlessly ruffles Kazue’s hair and holds out his hand for him to take.
Your heart hurts, you realize. Because after today, Kazue would only be a name you’ll relate to your past.
“You’re going to a new home,” you had to explain to him slowly, and it hurt to tell him that because in the guest room—no his room—that he’d been staying at, were the drawings of the superheroes you’d listen to him talk about night after night, portraits of smiling faces he said were of you, Sakusa, and his mother stuck to the wall behind his bed.
For the month he’d been staying with you, the “Tadaima,” you or Sakusa would call out when you arrived would be answered by Kazue’s quiet “Okaeri,” as he met you by the genkan.
“A new home?” he’d asked, and while you excused yourself to allow for Sakusa to explain the situation, you listened from the other side of the door with your hand shaking over your mouth.
“You’ll meet your new parents that way,” Sakusa explained, his voice sounding like he was in between uncertainty and despair.
It wasn’t easy, you think, telling a child who was abandoned and lost his mother in the same day that he’d be going back somewhere unfamiliar again—but you suppose between you and your husband, Sakusa was the one better suited to explain the situation.
“I know they won’t be new parents,” Kazue replied and as you peeked back in the room you see Sakusa staring at him with wide eyes as a silent response.
“They’ll just take care of me for now, and that’s okay. I’m still lucky,” he finishes and the conversation ended just like that.
“He’s gonna be okay,” this time you tell Sakusa as you notice his expression shift in time with his hand ever so slightly tightening around Kazue’s.
You notice everything. Sakusa’s conflicted, much like you were—still are—but this, this was the best you could do for him.
Having kids was never included in you and Sakusa’s plan from the start. Life before, with the two of you had always been enough, and while the two of you never let go of the insatiable hunger for life—you knew that your thirst for it would be quenched with just the two of you.
Until life, ironically the very thing you were chasing, decided to give the both of you something it knew you would flow with.
“Always remember to bundle up, okay?” you remind Kazue when you make it in front of the entrance with who you assumed to be the caretaker standing by the door. Sakusa watches Kazue watch you, the boy’s happiness spilling as warmth into his cheeks as his lips break out into a smile as he nods along to your reminders.
“Thank you,” Kazue says again—and Sakusa internally tries to recall the amount of times he’s said his thanks to the both of you that day. He loses count after he hit fifteen.
“I won’t get these dirty because I’ll take care of them,” He tells Sakusa, gesturing to the things he has with him then gives him a smile when he squats down and faces him eye to eye.
Then when Kazue puffs his cheeks and leans forward wrapping his arms around Sakusa’s neck for an embrace, you watch, feeling the familiar throb of your heart return tenfold. You meet his smiling eyes as he opens them, and when he stretches his hand out for you, you squat down behind Sakusa and kiss Kazue’s forehead.
“Be kind, okay?” you tell him and he nods his head, the smile on his face never leaving.
Sakusa stays still, only moving when he feels Kazue part with him.
Cold, Sakusa thinks, he feels a little cold.
And it’s only thirty minutes after walking into Kazue’s new “home” where Sakusa feels the chills run through him again. He’s watching Kazue be introduced to the new children in the living room with you beside him, the caretaker’s words coming in one ear and floating out the other in seconds.
The guest room, or Kazue’s room as he thinks of it, will still have the drawings he pinned to the wall behind his bed when he comes home. He thinks of the totoro themed comforter you bought for him and the fact that it will still look as neat as Kazue left it earlier that morning.
His mind plays back dinner from the night before, and how warm his home felt when the three of you ate the dinner he cooked with the too many vegetables on the side, then laughed over the smudged chocolate frosting that you wiped on the corner of his lips as Kazue smiled at you both.
The room he sees him standing in now feels cold, and when he sees Kazue shiver and clutch the raccoon backpack to his chest he feels like the very same scene from the month before is replaying right in front of him.
Sakusa thinks he hears your voice, when you tell the woman that’s been explaining the process next to you for a little over twenty minutes now say “thank you,” and “we’ll get going now,” register in his head before he feels his feet already taking strides for him.
“Kazue,” Sakusa says, and when the boy turns and looks at him, that’s when he notices how quiet the room’s gotten.
From your spot, you look at him, unsure of exactly how to proceed because Sakusa—if anything, was never as unpredictable as this.
“We’re going home,” you hear him say, and your grip on the strap of your bag tightens.
“Home?” Kazue echoes and Sakusa’s heart clenches when he hears the yearning in the boy’s voice.
“Yeah, we can have dinner again, like last night,” you listen to Sakusa say, and your heart is suddenly overflowing with everything you’ve held back. Sakusa’s smiling again—and you know his heart is in the same state, because his voice softens even more.
“Just for tonight?” Kazue asks, a little unsure.
“Every night,” Sakusa answers, and just like that you know that when you go home that night—you truly will be home.
- “Mama, you really need to wear a scarf,” Kazue huffs as you walk with him to the entrance of your front door.
You nod at his words and wave him off with the yes, you’ve been responding to his every reminder for the past twelve years now. Kazue—your son—looks at you with the same softness in his eyes as ten years ago when he finally made it home.
“I’m serious,” he laughs, before leaning forward and letting you fasten the buttons on his winter coat.
Kazue grew up, with the roots of his personality remaining unchanged. He’s a kind boy, you think to yourself every day. When he turned seven and made Sakusa wait in the car so he could help the grandmother cross the street. When he was ten, and somehow persuaded your husband to let him keep and nurse the stray cat from your neighborhood back to health. And at seventeen—the now, as you listened to him talk about how he was going to lead his team into nationals.
“You remember what your dad told you?” you ask, smiling as he nods and points to Sakusa from inside, hollering “thanks dad!” with a laugh.
“I’d say I have the perks of having a national athlete as a father, but really, dad’s just that good of a coach.”
You smile, leaning to the side as you hear Sakusa’s footsteps grow closer and closer until you felt his presence right behind you. Leaning back to his chest, you kiss his jaw as a hello, laughing when Kazue groans at the “PDA”.
“We’ll make it to your game later, but have a good time in school,” you hear him say and Kazue nods as he fastens the zipper of his bag and waves at the both of you.
“Love you!” he calls out, walking down the steps and out the gate.
“We love you,” you murmur, your heart filling with the familiar sense of pride as you watch him leave, his dad’s jersey number on his back.
“It’s cold,” Sakusa says, then kisses the crown of your head when you turn to face him. “We should head back inside.”
Smiling, you tug the blanket closer to yourself as you answer, “It’s alright. I think I’ll stay here a bit.”
“Something on your mind?” Sakusa asks, closing the door behind him and taking a seat on the bench beside you in your front porch. Like habit, he takes the scarf from around his neck and loops it around you with a smile, ignoring the way you pat his wrist as if to tell him don’t bother.
“It’s cold,” he laughs, and you roll your eyes knowing that he mostly does it now because of the sentiment it holds for the both of you.
“Home always feels warm, though,” you answer, and Sakusa only nods at your words, the corners of his own lips stretching into a smile like yours.
“We kind of went off the plan we originally had,” you laugh after some silence passed.
“Do you regret it?” he asks, tone even because he already knows the answer to the very question he posed.
“Of course not,” you smile. “I knew we never planned on having kids of our own, but Kazue’s a blessing.”
“He is,” Sakusa replies, smiling at the thought of his son.
His son, he likes to think of it. The memory of Kazue calling him dad for the first time never fails to make warmth spill from his heart.
Watching the smile bloom wider from his profile, you clasp your hand over his and watch as the light from the winter sun catches the band on his left ring finger.
His ring—the one matching the one on your left remained the same, and while your thoughts of the future are completely opposite to the ones you envisioned from before—you realize that this was the grand plan from the heavens all along.
And there isn’t one thing that you’d change about it.
So when Sakusa looks at you, saying, “We did good,” the happiness in your heart overflows and spills into your cheeks as tears.
“We did,” you respond, the sincerity in your voice assuring Sakusa that you really, truly do mean it.
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k0utashi · 2 months ago
˗ˏˋ hugs with them ˎˊ˗
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including: bokuto kōtarō, miya atsumu, oikawa tōru, tendō satori. genre/warnings: just fluff and soft boys a/n: yeah, i want a hug :( oh and this is also to say that i have a taglist form if everyone is interested <3
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bokuto — his hugs are the best, he’s a big boi and loves hugging you whenever he can. morning hugs are his favorites; bokuto wraps his arms around your body first thing in the morning, despite what others see when he hugs you in public, at home his arms are more cautious. and the calm of an embrace before a hectic day is the alarm clock for both because what he loves most is to see you leave the house with a smile on your face, knowing that when you come home at night, the other half of that hug will be ready to catch you.
atsumu — he’s so cheeky when it comes to hugs. he loves when you snuggle yourself on his chest, with his hands caressing your back as you whisper about your day, atsumu feels like the luckiest person. not only because he holds you in his arms, but because he knows that you like to be there, and he also knows that if he asks for it, your arms will wrap around him with the same strength and love. because that's how love through hugs feels.
oikawa — his hugs are tight, sometimes you don't need to hear the words to know what he feels, his body screams i love you when his arms are wrapped around you. when either of you is having a particularly bad day, the embrace feels more needed, the body heat, your hands entwined behind his neck as his hands seek their place at your waist are the unspoken love in the relationship.
tendou — spontaneous hugs are the most treasured thing for both of you, and when his arms wrap around your body from behind and a soft "boo" makes contact with your ear, the moment seems to shine. tendou makes sure to squeeze you against his body as he swings you from side to side to make you laugh, it feels like a recharge of energy. his hugs are never the same, but they always make you feel good.
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ps: i think the tendou one is sloppy, i'm sorry for that :((
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churoomiii · 10 months ago
My Number One Hero | The Haikyuu Boys as Dads <3
a list of drabbles about the haikyuu boys as fathers.
this goes out to my dad, who is 12,200km away from me. many of these are fragments of my childhood memories with him. stay strong for me, papa ❤️ i’m always thinking about you, and i’m praying for your health and speedy recovery ❤️
➪ Sawamura Daichi goes home early from work to play cop and robber with his children. His peaked cap is too big on his son’s head, and his vest goes down to his daughter’s knees. The house is filled with laughter and giggles as they tackle him down to the ground. But the kids always end up on his shoulders, smiling from cheek to cheek while hanging onto their dad for dear life.
➪ Sugawara Koushi decorates your bedroom with the children’s drawings. Coloured pencils and crayons is scattered all over the table, and the floor is always covered with papers. They are cuddled up in his arms every night through the bedtime stories, his daughter on his left, and his son on his right. His favourite thing is having the children in between you and him at night.
➪ Azumane Asahi loves cradling his little girl. He is up all night, humming his favourite song while putting her to sleep. She finds comfort in his touch, and immediately cries if his hand is not touching her. He whispers ‘I love you’ and ‘you’ll always be my little girl’ every night. Playing with his long hair is her favourite thing to do when she wakes up.
➪ Tsukishima Kei brings his daughter to her grandparent’s house every Sunday. She loves spending time with Akiteru, and forces the brothers to play the volleyball with her in the backyard. She absolutely loves reading, and he is always there to make sure the book is within the safe distance from her eyes.
➪ Oikawa Tooru shows off his two little girls to his teammates. He brings them to his training sessions and laughs when they re-enact his jump serve from the side of the court. Matching family jersey is his weakness, and he loves seeing his three princesses wearing them in every single one of his game. “Keep track of how many times papa spikes the ball today, okay, princesa?” And that’s how the girls have a special notebook titled ‘Papa’s Volleyball Diary’.
➪ Iwaizumi Hajime wants a boys’ night out with his son every Saturday. It can be buying an ice cream in the nearby mall, an afternoon jog in the neighbourhood park, or simply a movie night with a bowl of popcorn. You? You are not allowed to be there, because it is ‘strictly boys only’.
➪ Matsukawa Issei is the ‘more favourite’ parent. The kids can talk to him about anything, or sometimes talk him into anything. Like that day when they come home with a small puppy. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?” You try to hide the excitement in your tone. “Daddy said we didn’t need to,” your daughter breaks the silence. “Yeah, he said we didn’t need to as long as we take care of him,” your son backs his sister up. You look up to Issei, who is glaring at the kids. “Are you guys ganging up on your own father?”
➪ Kuroo Tetsurou drops his daughter at school every morning. He cares about education and always comes home on time to help her with her home works. Every Friday when school finishes earlier, he picks her up and brings her into his office, because he knows that his workplace is her playground. She has his beautiful eyes, and fortunately, not his hair.
➪ Kozume Kenma introduces his two boys to his YouTube followers. He teaches them the game he is playing, and he does livestreams with them every weekend. Studying is from 5-7pm, gaming is from 8-9:30pm, and bed time is at 10pm. And Kenma doesn’t need to be reminded to follow these timings.
➪ Bokuto Koutarou spends every afternoon with his daughter outside. He teaches her how to swim, ride the bike, or fly a kite. One day she tells him that she wants to be a volleyball player, and from that day onwards Bokuto sneaks her into the Black Jackals court to train her. And this is a secret shared between the two of them only.
➪ Akaashi Keiji keeps recordings of his daughter’s ballet and piano performances. He loves sitting on the sofa, legs stretched with a book in his hand while watching her little fingers dancing on the black and white keyboard. His phone lock screen is his little girl in her ballet tutu, and he also has it framed on his desk, along with his favourite family portrait.
➪ Sakusa Kiyoomi makes sure to prepare healthy lunches for his two children. The kids have their own personalised hand sanitiser bottles with their names on them; red for the girl, and blue for the boy. Despite his antics, Sakusa doesn’t want them to be as paranoid as himself. He doesn’t want them to wear face masks, because ‘the world needs to see their beautiful faces’.
➪ Miya Atsumu loves playing dress up with his twin girls. He loves braiding their hair, and he comes home with new outfits for the girls almost every week. The girls get along with everybody in the Black Jackals, only because Atsumu brings them down to the court every training. He has a dream of his two girls growing up to become volleyball players, just like him and his twin brother.
➪ Miya Osamu has two very quiet and always curious twin boys. The first time they saw Osamu making onigiri, they begged to be taught how to shape rice into ‘little triangles’. Osamu introduces them to the kitchen at a young age, and eventually lets them help him around the restaurant. They become quite famous amongst Onigiri Miya’s customers as the ‘onigiri twins’.
➪ Ushijima Wakatoshi likes talking to your newborn baby girl when he thinks you’re not watching. “Do you like Mozart or Haydn better?” you hear him ask her one evening, and you have to hold back your giggle. When she takes her first steps at only eight months old, Ushijima looks at you with a glimmer in his eyes. “It must be thanks to all of the Mozart she listens to every night.”
a/n: thinking of you, pa. i wish i could be there with you 💫
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nightshade-shot · 2 months ago
First Hugs ;
Atsumu, Sakusa, Bokuto, Hinata
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@serowotonin​​ ; rIGHT REQUESTS !!! hmmm last time i requested first kiss hcs SO WHAT IF THIS TIME,,, i request first hug hcs. like okay its simple BUT HUGS ARE A RLLY CLOSE FORM OF INTIMACY AND SKDNKSNDNS first hugs always leave an impression yk.. with atsumu (you know i have to), sakusa, bokuto, and hinata !! if its not too much
Random but I have a feeling that if you send another request it’s gonna be like first eye contact or something 💀 /j
Also uhm. I kind of been having a hard time finding motivation around Hinata’s and Bokuto’s parts so they aren’t really as good as I wanted them to be... hope that’s alright. 
-> Gender neutral reader
-> No warnings
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Haikyuu Masterlist | Fandom Masterlist
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It’s harder to get closer to him than you think it would be
The thing is, he can have as many friends as he wants but he’s wary of forming deeper relationships
Which was why even though you’re more than friends now, the most you’ve done was hold hands, or that you kissed him on the cheek occasionally
Yeah yeah he can accept the kithes but can’t put his arms around you, I knowww I knowww
But tackling his sibling is much different than a warm, close, intimate embrace
One day, his team had a match with a rival school and you came to watch
His team ended up winning... but he didn’t feel a sense of accomplishment? It felt the same as every other game, that it wasn’t any special
And he felt like he didn’t really improve- now he wasn’t torn, just kinda bummed out
You could tell
When you met up afterwards, you couldn’t help saying something about it
“You okay?” 
“This time just didn’t feel like much.” 
Your cheeks puffed as you went, 
“Do you know how many times I’ve seen you spike and set against a wall? How much sweat you’ve let off? ‘Tsumu, it didn’t feel like much but I’ve seen you work for this.. and if you aren’t for yourself, I’ll be proud of you. Always.” 
When you were finished, he stood motionless, eyes and mouth agape
When was the last time someone genuinely said that? Maybe it was from his brother, who he cared for dearly, but never from anyone else. No... it came from you
You didn’t comprehend the sensation of two lean arms wrapping themselves around you and pressing you to his torso soon enough
In fact it wasn’t until you felt the dampness of his sweat and picked up a hint of his deodorant that you realized... he’s hugging you, dearly
A grin sprang to your lips. You buried your head deeper into his shoulder and hugged him back.
“I’ll make ya proud as much as I can, ya hear? Because I love you.” 
Now, he’s on a neutral sort of tone with hugging. He’s fine with them but he wouldn’t really initiate one, neither would he maintain one for very long. Very rare to see that from him
He still accepts them, though, and no big reaction is seen from him when he’s given a hug
Chill and collected man
Unless? :3c
He was very tired this evening and so were you. Both of you had a day packed with tests and club activities and now that you were at his house(as you planned this morning in hopes of getting some quality time with him) you two just wanted to collapse
You were supposed to get homework done, though, so you set up your supplies on a coffee table and sat on the couch with him right next to you
He and you really did try to keep each other awake
So, this was the last he remembered
Now, as his bleary eyes recollected their vision, he realizes that despite the efforts he made, he was asleep. That was his first thought
His second thought, a split second later, was about the placement of his body
His arms... are encasing you... as you are asleep, snuggled up against his torso with your head pressed to his chest
As you had only started dating last week, this was the first time he was holding you this way and oh boy was he not ready for this
A flas of heat comes over his neck and creeps up to his face out of his control 
His first instinct is to move away(mostly out of being startled, not because he’s hugging you) 
But then he realizes that would wake you up
No, not when you had such a long day
And looked so peaceful, too...
Shifting a bit, he had no choice but to keep you this way. But he didn’t mind. The steady rise and fall of your breathing brought a sense of tranquility around him, something he didn’t know he needed after today
So, as a result, he lulled back into slumber with you. 
He- he loves to give hugs to pretty much anyone you know that right
Akaashi, his teammates, his coach, his TEACHER once- he’s really used to giving hugs and has no problem with them by a long shot
But you, however, are not used to them so much. You’re a big of a touch-starved bean
You and a friend or two went to see the Fukurodani boy’s volleyball club because they knew one of the members and wanted to see if you would like the group as well
Since Bokuto recognized your friend(s), he gave them a hug with a big smile on his face
His unlimited energy already had you appalled within the first few seconds of seeing him because wow he really was full of sunshine and smiles
So... no way were you prepared when he greeted you with a smile and then surrounded you with strong, firm arms
Did I mention strong
I really do mean strong
 And warm, too
You could disappear in those arms no matter what size you are
It would’ve been really nice to let yourself melt into if this wasn’t literally your first interaction with him 💀 
Because since that was the case, you’re face was about to catch fire from how hot it quickly became with such closeness
When he released you, everyone froze upon seeing your flustered state- including him
“I- I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize how sudden that was, I was caught up in hugging everyone else and-”
You had a hard time forming words for a second so it took some time for you to say, 
“It’s fine, i-it’s fine!!” 
Your first hug was pretty early on, but as hugs are a way of showing closeness, maybe that just means you two are off to a fast start. 
He definitely loves giving and receiving hugs but when it comes to the person he has a crush on, aka you...
well haha...
He’s the most awkward you’ve ever seen SDJFKDJ
You would think that he would be the one to initiate your first hug, but it was actually the other way around
Since you were close friends with each other, he was telling you all about everything that was going on with the volleyball club he’s in 
and in the past few days you were hyped hearing that his team might be going to nationals if they did well enough
Today, as you were heading to meet up with him again, your eyes were met with the sight of him bounding towards you from afar, the biggest grin you’d seen from him yet on hisface
When he was close enough, you could see the excitement in his eyes
You: :0... :D!!!
Pride, warm and full, filled your chest as you hugged him without warning
“That’s amazing, Hinata! I’m so proud of you... you’ve come so far!” 
The smile he was wearing had dissolved into an “o” shape, and his head, suddenly empty 
In short, Hinata.exe has stopped working 
When you didn’t hear anything from him you pulled away to see what might have been wrong, only to find his cheeks flushed a deep pink hue and his eyes wide
“H-hinata...? Oh, I’m so sorry! I-I must’ve gotten carried away there-”
“No- no, it’s fine!” 
He grows a brand new smile, starting to relish the previous feeling of your arms around him
I’m so glad that you’re proud! TH-THANK YOU FOR THE HUG!!”
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Thank you for reading my work! If you enjoy what I write, please try and give some support with a reblog!
Please check my pinned post to see if requests are open.
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mimi-cee-hq · 11 months ago
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I think I'm obsessed with colouring. I traced some of the first years from screenshots during the training camp arc. I'm still playing around with this colour palette. lol. I didn't use white this time.
I'm sort of making progress with my Koganegawa fic. I think...
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amjustagirl · a month ago
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Exes to lovers with Sakusa Kiyoomi - 477 words of fluff 
a/n: inspired by this piece by ​@miyachondria
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You are no match for a professional athlete when he’s determined to barge into your apartment. So you can only squawk indignantly when Miya Atsumu shoulders past you, unceremoniously dumping a semi-comatose Sakusa Kiyoomi onto your sofa. 
“He kept asking for ya”, the blonde idiot standing on your living room rug states, making a run for it before you can even protest. 
You should leave him to suffer on the sofa - which he surely will, given the way he reeks of alcohol and fried food. He deserves it after the way he stomped on your heart, crushing it beneath his feet by claiming that you were too emotionally needy, too clingy, too affectionate - too much of everything he didn’t want. Logic dictates that you should leave him to suffer, but you are far too much of a bleeding heart, so you rearrange his limbs on the sofa, tuck a cushion under his neck. 
You’re in the kitchen deliberating whether to wake him up to force him to down a glass of water when you hear him calling your name, like he has a thousand times before. Your feet answer before you even think. 
“Sakusa-san”, you greet him coldly as he struggles to sit up and hunches over, knees to chest.  
“I miss her so much”, he tells you, head in hands, and your heart sinks like a stone as you wonder who she is, who he’s referring to.  
You are half minded to deposit him on your front door until he replies with your name again, mumbles it again and again and again, and you realise with one look at his hazy gaze - oh, this silly man crouched on your sofa like an oversized cat is yearning for you. 
You’ve heard anecdotes of the MSBY boys’ quirks when drunk. Atsumu, a natural loudmouth, gets exceedingly quiet. Loud, exuberant Bokuto, falls asleep anywhere like a log and snores like a horn. Hinata gets even more hyper, bounces off walls until Meian corrals him when it’s time to go. But you’ve never heard about Kiyoomi losing himself to alcohol, at least not until now. 
Reticent, remote Kiyoomi is a complete chatterbox. He slurs his way through declarations of love to you, lamenting how huge of an idiot he was to ever let you go. You listen bemusedly as he lauds your patience with him, talks fondly of the silly things you do that make him smile, affection colouring every inflection of his voice. 
“D’you think I have a chance if I beg for her to take me back?” 
You pretend to think, even as you take the opportunity to force him to down a cup of water and lie back down on the sofa. 
“I think she might if you ask her nicely and promise a lifetime’s supply of kisses to make amends.” 
He snuffles into his blanket happily before promptly falling asleep. 
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itadorey · 5 months ago
[2:19 pm]
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suna doesn’t like seeing you with atsumu.
sure, he knows you’re childhood friends, but he thinks that he should be able to spend a little more time with you considering it’s his birthday, as selfish as that sounds.
he can’t help but snort when he sees atsumu smash his slice of cake into your face, letting out a soft chuckle when he sees you flick atsumu’s forehead in response. suna’s smile falls however, when the setter leans forward and licks the frosting off your cheek, causing you to giggle as you look up at him with bright eyes.
across the room, atsumu noticed suna’s intense stare, slinging an arm across your shoulders and sending the middle blocker a blinding smile before leaning down to whisper into your ear. 
“he’s looking at you,” the blonde says, shaking you slightly before pushing you away from him. “go give him his big birthday smooch!”
you can feel your cheeks heating up at atsumu’s words, but you listen to him anyways, making your way across the room and coming to a stop in front of suna.
“happy birthday, rin!” you say, reaching up to poke his cheek. the corners of his lips twitch, and he finds that he can’t stop the smile from breaking out across his face when you break out into a large grin, your eyes crinkling shut in the process. he can see you holding something behind your back but he thinks that seeing you smile is the best present he could ever get. 
he follows you when you tilt your head, stepping out onto the balcony of atsumu’s apartment which he had oh so generously offered up for suna’s birthday party. he can’t help but feel smug at the fact that he’s finally alone with you.
“here!” you proclaim, holding out a small bag. he takes it from you cautiously, carefully moving the decorative paper around in order to reach in and take our the present. it’s a sweater, similar to one that he remembers you taking from him back in high school. “to replace the one i stole. you’re never getting that one back, it’s way too comfortable.”
suna looks at your clothes, realizing that the sweater you’re currently wearing the aforementioned stolen one. he laughs softly, leaning over to brush his lips against your cheek.
“thanks,” he murmurs, waiting for your reaction. he’s flirted with you, sure, but he’s never been so forward with his advances. and so he waits, to see if you really feel the same way about him as he does about you. when he sees your sparkling eyes and dazed smile, he knows you do. 
you lean up, brushing his cheeks with your fingertips as you pause, waiting for him to say or do something. it’s only when he gives you a soft nod that you lean in, pressing your lips against his fully and losing your breath as you finally figure out what it’s like to kiss suna rintarou.
the two of you only pull away when you hear a knock on the glass door that leads to the balcony, turning to see an excited atsumu waving and laughing after catching the two of you in the act. osamu simply smacks his twin, dragging him away but not before shooting the two of you a sly wink. you simply giggle as the twins disappear from view, your heart thumping loudly as suna reaches over and lazily intertwines his fingers with yours. 
you turn back to face him, seeing a playful spark in his eyes as he leans in to capture your lips in another soft kiss before wrapping his other arm around your waist. 
"happy birthday to me,” suna says, squeezing your hand as you shake your head in amusement at his words. “and i appreciate the present, but i will get that sweater back eventually.”
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reblogs are appreciated <3
-> taglist!
@zukuroo, @bap-kingdom, @waitforitillwritemywayout, @wisepandaslimeland, @kashhask, @dcuniversegurl, @h0ngh0ngh0ng, @mirikusashes, @myeg1993, @volexis, @greenleaf-fantasy​, @brownsugartease-blog, @samanthaa-leanne, @galacticstxrdust, @kac-chowsballs, @neatsan, @sugasugawarau, @thathoneybee3, @killuaking, @yn-tingz, @differentballooncollection, @om-ly, @vhskenma, @bbymilkbread, @kissungjae, @appleciderslut, @melodynee, @visaintes, @thevillagehiddenintheinternet, @milkiisenpai, @kuroogguk, @shadowkunoichi, @tsumue, @swoona-rintarou, @aprettyfruit, @toobsessedsstuff, @heyhinata, @throughtheinterstices, @mewspeaches, @moonlightaangel, @answer-the-sirens, @kutokawa, @ya-kkun, @minibobabottle, @ukeishin, @velvesagi, @sophiashortcake, @sushii10, @admiringlove, @byun-nies
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bokutosworld · 2 months ago
messenger | oikawa tooru
pairing: oikawa x gn!reader word count, genre: 1.1k words. fluff. warnings: none! summary: oikawa is popular and, unfortunately, you're the one who's always giving him presents from his admirers.
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“Excuse me. Can you give this to Oikawa?”
You’re stopped by an unfamiliar voice just as you were about to enter the classroom. Turning to the side, there’s a girl holding a paper bag. Her head is slightly bowed as she waits for your reply.
“What’s your name and class?” You pry the gift from her hands. Peeking inside, there is a box with cupcakes topped with colorful frostings.
She beams and an excited energy surrounds her. “Mayu! I’m from Class 2-B!”
The bell loudly sounds through the speakers, signaling the start of the day.
“I should go.” She grabs your hands and looks at you hopefully. “I’m counting on you. Thanks!” She turns on her heels and runs to her room which was probably located below the seniors’ floor.
It was the fourth time that week that someone had asked you to pass something to Oikawa. Sighing, you make your way to his desk and drop the bag on the table.
Startled, he pauses his writing and looks at you wide-eyed. Before he could say something, you point to the item in front of him.
“Mayu from Class 2-B asked to give this to you.”
It took everything you had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. It was getting ridiculous at this point. Couldn’t his fangirls find someone else to bother with their requests?
Oikawa chuckles, “Another delivery, huh?” He takes the box out and admires the sweets. “Would you like to try some?”
This time, you couldn’t stop yourself from scoffing. “I’m going to my seat now.” As you turned your back and walked away, you could hear Oikawa teasing you about how you’re probably missing out on the best cupcakes ever made.
Luckily, the teacher came in before you could even hit him with your bag.
“Next week, we’re having an activity in pairs. I want you to decide on your partners already so we can save time in class.”
The class erupts in cheers and the students are already talking over one another before the teacher could even finish her announcement. She tries to silence everyone but to no avail.
To her luck, the lunch bell chimes, and everyone stands up almost too quickly as they say their goodbyes and vacate the laboratory. Just before she exits the room, she reminds you to collect the papers and drop them at the faculty.
Which is how you found yourself currently alone at the room, going over the names written in each of them to make sure everyone has turned in their assignment.
“Aren’t you going to eat?”
You hear his voice as Oikawa plops himself beside you. He moves closer with absolutely no regard of space between the two of you.
“What are you doing here?”
“What are you still doing here?” He retorts, opting to place his arm on the table and rest his chin on his open palm.
“I need to submit these papers first.” You pause in your task to glance at him. “Did you already send yours in?”
He surprises you when he dramatically slams the table. “Of course, do you think so lowly of me?” A hand goes to rest on his chest, his head hangs low as he feigns betrayal and pain.
You stare at him unamused, “You’re a terrible actor.”
He grins, a playful glint behind his eyes as he watches you. “So are you.”
Oikawa stays rooted in his position as you gather the papers. He follows your every move and when you’re about to head for the door, he grabs your wrist and pulls you back to his chest.
He hums as he wraps his arms around you, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck as he breathes in your scent.
You tense under his clutches but eventually relax when you realize that it was only the two of you in the room. Hidden from the prying eyes and judging whispers of the student body.
In his arms, you were safe.
“How were the cupcakes earlier?” You joked as you got comfortable in his embrace. Oikawa laughs and separates himself from you, turning you to face him and you stood under his gaze.
“It was the most delicious cupcakes that I’ve ever tasted,” he chides. “Honestly, it made me realize that yours could use more work. You should get some tips from... Wait. What was her name?”
He’s backing away from you the minute he catches your eyes narrowing. Oikawa could practically feel you seething with annoyance and he was right when you started advancing towards him and punching his arms.
“Was it Yumi? Or Kimi?” He sputters out as he’s doubled in laughter.
“It’s Mayu!” You almost shout before groaning and stomping away, but he catches you once again.
“If you loved those sweets so bad, why don’t you go to her right now?” You try to look at anywhere but him.
But he’s already cupping your cheeks, his voice low when he confesses, “Why would I do that when I’ve got my perfect, smart, and extraordinary partner right here?”
“Flattery won’t get you anywhere.” You scoff, remembering how it was the same exact words he’d used when he first admitted his feelings for you.
“It already worked though.” He presses a kiss on your forehead. “I have you.”
You were speechless yet again. Flustered at his words which Oikawa always knew had an effect on you.
“God, how would your fangirls react if they found out you were this cheesy?” You run your hands along his chest, smoothing out the creases in his shirt and fixing his collar.
“Well, they wouldn’t because I’m yours. You’re the only one allowed to hear my corny jokes and pick-up lines.”
You found yourself laughing along with him in the middle of the quiet room. Being with Oikawa definitely wasn’t easy, especially when no one knew that he was already off the market.
The constant favors from different students from different classes. The weekly rumors that would pop up about him being seen with other people. About him being confessed to almost every day.
However, one thing kept you sane and it was him. Next to volleyball, the other thing he loves is you.
When he brought up the topic of keeping your relationship on the down low, you had your doubts whether he really wanted to be with you. But as someone who has all his business known to the public, you were the one thing he wanted to keep for himself.
Moments like these, when you would be hiding from others and stealing kisses and touches, belonged only to you and him. Oikawa savored these little things and so did you.
“I really should go give this to the teacher already,” you muttered. “Are you still coming by the house after practice?”
Oikawa detaches from you and heads to the door to exit first. “Yeah, want me to bring anything?”
“Just bring yourself.”
He smirks, “See you.”
I love you, he mouths. He doesn’t even wait for your reply anymore as he leaves the room because he knows.
You love him too.
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writeiolite · 8 months ago
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plot: harems are fun, especially if they get a little jealous and their only way to make it all better if fucking the attitude out of you. except this time, your six friends decide to do it all at once
warnings: orgy, size kink, degradation, double penetration (vaginal), handjobs, paizuri, blow job, throat fucking, fingering, stomach distention, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, cum shower, jealousy, smol aftercare 
wc: 4,382
a/n: @bananababe1818​​ HELLO!!! thank you so much for commissioning me :3 i hope you enjoy this fic and all it cums... with...! i really just... got so into it with certain characters... so if you find a smut within this universe later on my blog, it’s all thanks to you LMFAOO. pls enjoy!! ♡ 
[ ! ]   if you want to use this fic in a reading video (like ASMR or smth), please dm me and get my permission first
. . . ♡ — crossposted to my AO3
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It was worth it. The long practices, the sore muscles, the barely passing grades — everything was worth it because of this moment. The final set is usually the most grueling, especially in Nationals, but everything went right in every way. Maybe it was because your special “cheer squad” was giving you an extra boost too, but things are starting to pay off for all your hard work.
Meeting the expectations that came with your friend group and your “family legacy” was always something that hung over your head. You never doubted your skills as a volleyball player, but sometimes people expected too much. It was easy to feel like you’d cave and never claw your way back up the walls of disappointment, but at least your friends were always ready to pull you out.
Bokuto, Daichi, Nishinoya, Kuroo, Oikawa, and Ushijima all are very different. Different high schools, different volleyball positions, different colleges… All the boring stuff. What’s more important is the different kinks and their one similarity: you.
Shy little Anna Ukai who always had Daichi trying to hover over her when Nishinoya got too close. Could you blame him? Nishinoya wasn’t exactly subtle with his advances. And while they made it clear back then that they wouldn’t let a girl come between them, they changed their mind when two tall bastards at a training camp turned their heads at you. If they can’t have you, then why should Kuroo or Bokuto get to have you?
Daichi thought Nishinoya was annoying? It was worse with those two. Luckily, you weren’t around enough for them to make too many moves, but they saw you getting flustered at their words or letting their touches linger. They had to draw the line somehow — maybe they should take you for themselves? — but honestly, how could they get away with that with your uncle as their coach? Fate must really like them, though. Coach Ukai may not have noticed Kuroo and Bokuto flirting with you all those years ago, but he definitely noticed Oikawa doing it at the preliminary games.
“Keep an eye on him, will you?” he had asked, nodding in Oikawa’s direction with his chin. They didn’t need to be told twice. Really, Nishinoya knows what Oikawa was trying when he played with your hair and leaned in to “tell you a secret.” Fuck him, those were his tactics! It’s safe to say that Daichi and Nishinoya had an alliance at this point, doing their best to keep you to themselves in a subtle manner.
And you’re so perfect, smiling at them cutely when they interrupt or laughing at their jokes at just the right time. It was like you didn’t notice what they were doing, which is perfect for them.
They really didn’t know what they were getting into. They should’ve known this was part of your fun. For example, you’re soft on the outside but terrifying on the court — why didn’t they connect the dots back then? They see the same appeal everyone else does, but they never saw it coming when Ushijima started showing interest in you soon after Oikawa.
Like, when the fuck did you meet him? Daichi never had a problem with him before — he’s protective of you but Ushijima was never a threat to his distant yearning and pining. But all of a sudden you started going to his practice matches after your own?
“Bull fucking shit,” Nishinoya spat, glaring at the two of you from a distance.
And you fucking winked. You saw him and you loved it.
“She’s like that with all of us. But isn’t that what makes her fun?” Kuroo chimed in, not at all bothered. Hell, he was smirking while Daichi fumed at Ushijima’s polite hand on the small of your back, the two of you walking to his car for God knows what.
You had brought them together with that coy attitude, and somehow it’s kept them with you for the past couple of years. Why fix what’s not broken?
It’s allllllllll paying off. You grin to yourself as you thankfully bow to the crowd, sweat dripping off the tip of your nose. You can feel the eyes burning into you, some with praise, others with admiration, and the last six pairs with jealousy. Is it fair to play your closest friends like a fiddle like this? Probably not… but you know how this goes.
“Anna,” a couple of them call in unison when your team stands up straight, triumph glimmering on their faces. You shoot Bokuto and Nishinoya a proud smile, but you let your gaze slide elsewhere soon after.
You have your team to thank for getting you all to Nationals, but yourself to thank for getting the attention of other guys. Those silly friends of yours, did they think they were fooling anyone with their jealousy act? They know how to share with each other, so you always tease them with the classic “What’s the harm in sharing with someone else?”
When you said that to Kuroo, he’d play along, purring words of filth into your ear about how he can’t wait to show you the extent of his generosity. Kuroo loves sharing, especially with Bokuto. And it usually ends up with the two of them sandwiching you in for a night, mind half hazy with passion.
When you said it Daichi or Nishinoya, they would grimace sourly, begrudgingly agreeing because they want to “make you happy,” all just so they can ruin you that much more. You thought the feelings they had for you were more romantic, but it seems they have no problem keeping the strings detached as long as they can attach to you in some other way, preferably together.
You don’t say that phrase to Oikawa. Kings don’t share their spoils with commoners, and he loves to pretend you’re completely his when the seven of you go out. Your theory? He knows it sets Daichi and Nishinoya off. He loves seeing them lose their minds with the need to mark you.
For Ushijima, you always find yourself tied up. If he’s going to share, he should “pin you down” with his weight to make sure you don’t squirm.
Oh, yes, the differences between them all are sweet, especially when they come together. And that’s what you want to see when you approach the man and his friends who were flirting with you before the game. You only got to speak briefly with their “leader” or whatever before the game started, but your plan of action was already set into motion. A small “Let’s talk after my match,” and now you’re here, the perfect set of bees collecting around your delicate, petal-like demeanor.
“There you are,” one starts, his eyes traveling up and down you once more. You’re certain he was the one Oikawa glared at for catcalling you, so you give him a smile. “You looked great out there, even better up close…” His gaze darkens. “I’m sure you’re hungry — how about dinner with us? We can do something for dessert too.”
You hum in response like you actually have something to contemplate, feeling eyes boring into you much more intensely than before. “Is that so… Let me go home and change first. I don’t want to be in these clothes anymore.”
“Heh, glad we can agree on that,” he mutters under his breath, his friends elbowing him playfully. You probably weren’t supposed to hear it, but you respond anyway.
“Hm?” You cock your head at him.
“Nothing, don’t worry about it,” he assures with a double-edged smile. “Give me your number and I’ll text you to pick you up.”
My number, huh? You have no intention of going that far, but it seems you won’t need to when Nishinoya steps in, shoving the guy aside to hand you a bouquet of flowers. The smile on his face is much more welcoming than the ones you’ve been surrounded with thus far, but you know better. He’s not smiling because he’s happy to see you.
“Congrats on winning, Anna! I know flowers aren’t the best gift, but I figured it would be the start.”
He’s smiling because you’ve just given him a chance.
“We can show you the real gift when you get home, right?” He keeps his smile while his eyes flash with danger, a strike of lightning that shoots excitement through you. This is a test — he wants to know just how far you’ll go so he can know how far they’ll go.
“What gift?” you ask with an innocent smile. “I think the flowers are just fine.” Your fingers brush over his when you take the bouquet from him, the world around you faded away now except for the people who matter. Daichi’s disapproving scowl makes your heart race.
“I think so too,” the guy from earlier chimes in, pushing Nishinoya out of the way. “You’re busy with us later anyway.”
Ah, maybe I went a little bit too far… You can see the smile on Nishinoya’s face threatening to crack.
You must not be the only one who notices, luckily, for you feel a familiar arm sling around your shoulders.
“At this rate, she won’t even make it to the bathroom to change,” Kuroo interjects. “Why don’t you leave first, babe? We’ll catch up to you.” The squeeze on your shoulder when he pushes you along isn’t meant to be reassuring, especially when he dips down to whisper in your ear. “Keep it up and you might make me actually jealous.”
You bite your lip while dashing off to catch up with your team. Kuroo loves getting jealous for fun — you kinda want to see him jealous for real…
No, no, let’s save that for next time. You catch Ushijima’s eyes on your way out, his expression unreadable but definitely not as irritated as you hoped. Next time.
Would that really happen, though? It would be nice to imagine next time where Kuroo does his absolute worst and Ushijima takes away all feeling in your legs, but you know that you would have to push and break buttons. It’s a fantasy for now, but it sticks with you all the way home. You’re nearly thankful your roommate isn’t there — maybe you can rub one out before she shows up — but then the sound of keys unlocking the front door comes all too soon.
So much for fun times. You sigh through your nose. “Hey, you’re home early,” you call from the bathroom, only cracking the door open a little bit. “I’m gonna shower really quickly if that’s okay!”
You don’t hear her response over the fan, but you shouldn’t make her wait to use the bathroom anyway. Sure, it’s a little sad that all that hard work paid off only for your roommate to come home early and ruin it, but maybe you can pick up where you all left off later. It’s not every day you get to spend that kind of time with all the guys.
You’re smiling even when you get out of the bathroom with your hair damp and cozy pajamas on, but the smile quickly falls when you’re pinned with a glare. Six of them, to be exact.
“Oh. Hi.”
“Yeah, did you forget I have your spare key?” Oikawa tosses the key on the coffee table, sauntering over to you in just a few steps. “Better question, did you forget your place? Did we not train you well enough?”
With how quickly he’s starting the scene you can tell he’s not happy. Well, at least he’s trying not to be. You peek down — just really quick! — to see if he’s hard right now, but he catches your chin and lifts your face up to his.
“Little slut,” he hisses, “of course, you’d want to look. Did you guys see that?”
“‘Course we did,” Bokuto chuckles, resting his elbows on his knees, completely relaxed on the couch despite his growing hard-on. “And you guys like to brag about how well behaved she is because of you all.”
Oikawa narrows his eyes at you, clenching his jaw a little tighter.
Ah, that’s why he’s so mad. Bokuto loves egging him on almost as much as Kuroo does. You wouldn’t be surprised if Kuroo was pulling the strings either.
“Get on your knees and suck him off for us, Chibi-chan,” Kuroo demands from the side, smirking lazily. “That’s what you wanted, right? You were gonna do that with those guys, so I think you just need to remember what your favorite cock tastes like.”
You shake your head, thighs tightening around the pulsing between them. It doesn’t help when Oikawa raises a brow at you, nor when Daichi crosses his arms in the corner of the room.
“No? Then which one? Which is your favorite, hm?” Kuroo prods, definitely reading the room. “Choose carefully, Captain.”
Really, that’s too hard of a question for you — none of them go easy on you and you have to admit: you’re addicted. Picking a “favorite” doesn’t exist when it comes to them; you’re getting wetter just thinking about what’s under their pants.
“Do I have to?” you ask softly, begging Oikawa with your eyes. He doesn’t let up his piercing gaze, so you look to Nishinoya or Daichi, both of which don’t bend. Fuck. What if you pick wrong?
All heads turn to Ushijima, his tall form towering over you the closer he gets. You’re not allowed a moment to ask for clarification before he roughly turns you to him by the throat, Oikawa’s hand shoved aside and your lips taken in a fierce kiss. Your eyes flutter close, pleasure and lack of air making your head fuzzy. It really doesn’t take much anymore — little kisses can make you a mess just as effectively as hands in your panties or two cocks filling you up. They’ve trained you real well.
“I’ll choose for you,” he grunts when he pulls away, lifting you up and wrapping your legs around him. “You don’t get to pick anything when you’re being punished.”
You’re most definitely getting wetter than you can help, a small whimper leaving you at those words. Ushijima carries you to your room and all but throws you on the bed, ripping your bottoms completely off before his own clothes follow. He stares intensely down at your core, nostrils flaring while he breathes in your arousal.
“That didn’t take long,” Nishinoya comments from the side, your other friends filing in with bulges growing in their pants. It’s hard to resist when you’re laid out on the bed stripped half naked and dwarfed under a man who looks ready to split you apart. “You’re already wet. From us or the guys?”
You don’t want to answer, tempted to keep your act going when Ushijima smacks the outside of your thigh with strong intent. Answer carefully, is what he’d probably say, but he doesn’t need to for you to understand. A smile tugs at your lips.
“Does it matter?” Oikawa kneels on the bed behind your head. “She’s a little cock slut — anything will get her wet. Right, cutie?” His tone is patronizing but you feel your body react in tune with each word. He doesn’t waste any time taking himself out of his pants, fisting his length with low breaths.
“Aw, that’s not true, is it, chibi-chan?”
Ushijima pushes one finger past your entrance, feeling resistance only from the tightening of each muscle inside you. He smirks after hearing how slick you are as he pulls back, teasing another finger but not giving it to you. “Don’t lie. You know what happens if you do.”
You try to close your legs when he teases your clit, but you’re blocked by his muscular body keeping you nice and open for him. All you can do is arch into his touch, head thrown back, and giving Oikawa the perfect opportunity.
“Open up.”
You stick out your tongue begging him with your glossy lips and breathy whines. It’s not enough, though.
“Don’t be stupid,” he bites out, slapping his newly freed cock against your tongue and across both cheeks. “You need to open that tiny mouth more than that.” He takes the liberty of smearing more precum across your skin, painting you how you should always look. He’s almost happy, but then you try to reach up to touch him.
“Bad move,” Bokuto winces, but he’s jerking off all the same with his clothes lost in the hallway. He knows what comes next. He’s quick to take one spot next to you and Kuroo positions himself at the opposite. They swipe your hands up, guiding you to touch their aching cocks instead.
Your head is swimming with the smell of them all, particularly Oikawa, and you nearly forget about what you should be doing until he shoves his own erection into your mouth.
“That’s better,” Oikawa sighs, watching your throat convulse from above. It’s hypnotizing, and he makes sure to push himself deep past your gag reflex over and over to hear you choke up too. “Don’t you feel better now? I bet you were so empty before. This is your only purpose, after all.”
Nishinoya is frozen on the sidelines beside his friend, mesmerized by how you size up compared to the men towering over you with cocks bigger than you can handle. He can see it — you can’t even wrap your hand all the way around Bokuto, but you’re still moving that tiny hand as fast as possible, desperate to milk him. Fuck.
He’s stuck to his spot, the moans of his friends making his own heated erection twitch, ache, and bob from above his pushed down pants. A short moan is choked out around Oikawa when Ushijima starts fingering you again, slow but hard with each thrust, probably using three fingers like he always does.
The sound awakens something in Daichi, his feet moving before his brain can catch up. “Did that hurt?” He stands beside the bed with one knee on it, staring at the mess in front of him with lust pooling in his stomach. He knows you would’ve tapped out if it hurt, but instead your body welcomes a fourth finger, moans leaving you in longer tones that tug at his need for you too.
Oikawa yanks his dick from your throat, saliva connecting it to your lips with a few beady strands. “Red, yellow, or green?”
All of them pause for a moment, Kuroo even taking hold of your wrist so you’ll stop working him to his orgasm. The air that fills your lungs feels relieving, but it’s nothing compared to the euphoria you were just experiencing. “Green,” you say as clearly as possible. “Please don’t stop — I want all of you.”
Nishinoya’s heart rate picks up at that, and he’s quick to clear the distance to give you what you want. He doesn’t even know where he’d fit in here, but he’s sure as hell gonna make it happen. He glances between Ushijima and Daichi. If they aren’t going to fuck you then he will. Who the hell would pass that up?
As if on cue, Ushijima takes his glistening fingers and rubs them over his length, surprisingly getting it wet enough from just that. She really is our little slut. He knows how badly you want him — want any of them — but he holds your hips down with one hand, the other taking his hardness and laying it over you, the tip going just past your belly button. “You feel that, honey?” he growls out. “You’re taking all of that and more.”
You whine in anticipation, gushing underneath him and trying to squirm out of his hold. You don’t even process what exactly he means, you just need him to be inside you. Begging with your body isn’t enough, but you know Oikawa is about to take away your ability to speak.
Except it never comes. The four of them pull away from you, leaving you aching and whining.
“Get up for a second,” Daichi insists, already moving you like it’s nothing. He takes your spot and lays you on top of him, pulling your shirt off of you before lining himself up with your soaked entrance. Your heart is pounding in excitement, walls clenching around nothing until finally there’s something. He angles his hips just right and pulls your whole body down his just enough to sheath him inside you completely. It’s the perfect fit, your mouth hanging open with a moan of his name the whole way down.
“There you go, just like that,” Oikawa coos, dick sliding inside your throat once more. Every moan you let out is muffled by him again, but he doesn’t need to hear it when he can feel you getting off on getting your throat-pussy fucked while Daichi starts thrusting up into you. It’d be nice to leave it just like this, but greed is something you all have in common. If Nishinoya can’t take your cunt, then he’ll take the next best thing.
He mounts your chest, lining himself up between your cleavage with practiced motions. You always feel so much softer each time he does this, his balls stirring and tightening when he palms the familiar globes of flesh and pockets his throbbing length between them. You can feel how hot and heavy he is, full of cum to unload over your chest and neck like he’s done many times before. You clench down on Daichi as you feel a glob of precum glide over your sternum, making the next motions much easier and much messier.
“Aw, little Anna likes that, huh?” Bokuto teases, making you fist him again and squeezing around your hand. You react accordingly, giving him what he wants and the same treatment to Kuroo. Your palms are slick and Noya’s groans of appreciation somehow fuel you to go faster.
“Don’t stop chibi-chan,” Kuroo hisses, glancing over at the man who started this. He can guess what he’s planning, but he doesn’t know why he’s taking this long to give in to his own desires. Especially when you’re so willing. “Focus on us. I didn’t say you could loosen up.”
Nishinoya pinches your nipples to help, still thrusting in time with Oikawa and keeping your attention locked on anything except Ushijima. It works for as long as they can keep it up, but he gives in eventually, pressing the leaking head of his fat cock against Daichi’s. You stiffen up, whining when Ushijima pushes forward to spread you open gradually. Your head is definitely spinning now, your wetness helping you accommodate them both but nothing can prepare you for the stretch.
Oikawa seems to sense it, pulling back just enough so you don’t choke on him and slowing his movements as a whole. Bokuto’s moans pick up at the sight. God, he would love to be in Daichi’s place, splitting you open over two cocks much too big for you… His hips cant in time with your hand, curses slipping past his lips over and over as he watches Ushijima sink deeper into you and a bulge forming in your abdomen. He finally slips, cumming right over your face and Nishinoya’s thigh when Ushijima bottoms out, the two of them panting for different reasons.
You’re insanely tight now, clamping down with little orgasms ripping through you and making the head of his cock catch onto Daichi’s with each shift. He barely hears Nishinoya telling him to keep going, something about your heart rate leveling out, before he’s moving inside you with the man underneath you.
You nearly blackout, cumming again when one of them brushes against a spongy spot inside you at the same time that the other kisses your cervix. Drool is pooling around Oikawa’s length, slick clicking coming from every hole, hand, and crevice — it’s too much. Nishinoya shoots his seed up your neck, white pearls sliding off each time Oikawa thrusts into your throat. He pinches your nipples once more, making you moan again until he sees Oikawa’s hips stutter.
“I’m gonna cum,” Daichi warns, trying to hold it back as long as he can. He usually lasts longer but the feeling of another dick against his inside you is unraveling him. You’re taking it so well too despite your small size, so cock hungry that he can’t help but want to cum now and keep going later. “I’m gonna cum, shit, shit, shit-”
Ushijima thumbs over your clit, sending you over the edge with Daichi. You thrash under them, cries choking around Oikawa and pussy choking around Daichi pouring his load right against your womb. Ushijima and Kuroo don’t stop, though, pushing you past overstimulation for their own highs.
The convulsing and euphoria take hold of your body until you really can’t take it anymore, going limp right as the two of them finish. White paints you inside and out, completely consumed by the floating sensation you’re trapped in. You don’t even wince when they part from you, a couple of them leaving and coming back with washcloths and drinks while you’re wrapped up in strong arms.
“You’re gonna be okay,” Daichi mumbles against your hair. “You’re our good girl, you know that?” He rubs your back while Kuroo wipes the cum off of you, the two of them showering you in praises as they go.
“I’ve got a bath going,” Nishinoya calls from the doorway, approaching the three of you to take you himself. He pauses when he sees you’re half asleep, your expression peaceful despite the hammering you just took. “Maybe we can wait. She’s probably tired from today’s match too.”
Ushijima hums in agreement, the sound nearly inaudible over whatever the hell Bokuto and Oikawa are doing in the kitchen. When Kuroo moves away to get rid of the dirty rags, Ushijima takes his place and lays the blanket over you.
“When Anna wakes up we can tell her how well her little stunt worked out.” He leans down and kisses your cheek tenderly, heart swelling when you mumble a ‘thank you.’
Of all things, you don’t need to thank him, or any of them, for loving you this much.
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thank you @tamcitrus​​ for beta-ing!! i appreciate u looking over so many of my fics recently ^^ ♡ 
smol thankies to @uhhhhyandere​​ and @patchworkpiper​​ for the brainstorming ♡ 
{ kuroo nsfw taglist — tell me if you want to be added or taken off: @thighkyuu​​​ @cosmic-goddess-leo​​​ @ksyy​​ @weebintheinternet​​ @thenezuko​​ @baby-jichu​​ }
{ nishinoya nsfw taglist — tell me if you want to be added or taken off: @weebintheinternet​​ @nixhinoya​​ }
{ ushijima nsfw taglist — tell me if you want to be added or taken off: @ksyy​​ @vventure​​ }
{ oikawa nsfw taglist — tell me if you want to be added or taken off: @ksyy​​ @theshirleygamer​​ @burnthoneymint​​ @achoohq​​ }
{ hq nsfw taglist — tell me if you want to be added or taken off: @sckusa @for-ests @ksyy @vventure @leiasfanaccount648 @marshyrebelcloud @iwaizumi-chan @janellion @curiouslilbeast @tomo-uwu @samwritesss @dyosatalaga @dearest-kiyoomi @therealwalmartjesus @starrysamu​@melonsorbetto​ @basicallyberry​ @sarcasti-cally​ @yams046​ @atsumunotsangwoo​ @chiibichann​ @namyari​ @kozumebri​ @daughter-of-stark​ @hakuna-your-matatas-darling​ @differentballooncollection​ @chou-maitresse​ @sally-wonders​ @kokogxddess​ @chaosamu​ @brujeriaclub​ @wolfblix​ @chaoticgirl-writing​ @ladyinmoon​ @kunimwuah​ @nekoma-hoe​ @richkookie​ @thenezuko​ @justxtulyyy​ @badboysdoitbetter2​ @shnnn​ @uhlekayuh2​ @kaizumi​ @shotoscoldsoba​ @edensxgarden​ @iish​ @dreamstormings​ @torucr​ }
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shinsotired · 8 months ago
Not Your Friend - Tsukishima Kei
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Summary: Tsukki invites you over for Thanksgiving dinner after a day at the Labor Thanksgiving festival. But things start to fall apart when he introduces you to his family as his friend instead of his girlfriend.
Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x Fem!Reader
Rating: T
Word Count: 2.6k (not 206 omfg ally get it TOGETHER)
Server Collab: @haikyuucreations - Home Sweet Home
Warnings: Angst (w/ a happy ending), Very brief mention of sex, stuffed animal abuse (jkjk)
Notes: Anon I hope you don’t mind a happy ending because I totally intended to leaving it open ended but then my heart hurt too much and I had to make them happy in the end. Anyway first collab piece for hqc! Please enjoy <3
 Even though you had been dating Tsukishima Kei for a little over six months now, you were still surprised when he invited you to a Thanksgiving Day dinner celebration with his family and closest friend Yamaguchi Tadashi. He had mentioned the festival that would take place earlier in the day and that after the two of you explored a bit, you’d go back to his home and have dinner with his mother, older brother, and best friend.
 It was a little odd because Tsukishima had disagreed on group dates or meeting your own family multiple times. He always found excuses to not do it. He would only say that he liked to keep his love life private, and asked that you would respect that. And so far you had. You didn’t talk about what went on between the two of you with anyone outside of your relationship, even your friends. You would be vague about your dates and if you had a fight then you’d pretend like nothing was going on. He wanted privacy and you wanted to give that to him.
 Despite that, you were really excited to finally meet his family. He had told you a lot about them and you had always wanted to meet them. You didn’t think he would have agreed if you had simply asked, so you never voiced your wishes to him. Luckily it seemed that time made him comfortable enough in your relationship to want to introduce you to the other people in his life finally.
 That morning you put on one of your best outfits, something that was cute but suitable for meeting your boyfriend’s family. Once you were finished getting ready, you went outside to meet Tsukki at his car. He would never go up to the door, no matter how many times you told him it was okay. He smiled softly at you, approving of your attire. “You look cute.” He said before driving you to the festival.
 The day was spent playing games and enjoying each other’s company. A few people recognized him from seeing his games with the Sendai Frogs and told them how they were big fans of him and the team. You knew he didn’t really care for the attention, always making an excuse to pull him away from the intruding person so he could relax by your side again. Tsukishima was always appreciative of how well you seemed to be able to read him. Despite his usual cold demeanor, people just seemed so eager to aggravate him. It was incredibly annoying.
 Luckily, the fans bold enough to interrupt your time together were few and far between today. Tsukki won you a stuffed brontosaurus, making sure you tell you how inaccurate the plush was as you hugged it close to snuggle with it happily, listening to him list why it was improbable for a dinosaur to be neon pink with orange spots. Of course he added how the head wasn’t shaped quite right and the proportions were a tad off. It was enough to make you giggle as he took you back to his car to take you to his family home.
 Anxiety fluttered in your chest as you watched the scenery pass you by in the window. What if they didn’t like you? You wondered to yourself. What if they thought you weren't good enough for him? A million negative scenarios and interactions raced through your mind as you thought of every conceivable way that you could screw this up. If this didn’t go well, then he’d probably never let you see them again. The thought of that hurt more than anything.
 After failed scenario number five hundred and thirty seven, Tsukki pulled up to his family home and parked out front. He opened the door for you and you stepped out, choosing to leave your new beloved (though inaccurate) dino behind. You didn’t want them to think you were childish because you loved stuffed animals.
 As he shut the car door behind you, Yamaguchi arrived with a wide smile. He greeted you enthusiastically, hugging you before giving Tsukishima a look that you couldn’t quite decipher.The three of you headed inside and deposited your shoes at the door as Kei’s mother came to greet you.
 “This is my friend,” Tsukki began before telling her your name. You couldn’t stop your eyes from widening in shock, looking at him with hurt as you tried to reel in the fresh set of tears that threatened to spill from your eyes. Friend? That’s all you were to him? Since when?
 You managed to compose yourself enough to bow to her as she told you it was nice to finally meet you. She then told Yamaguchi that she missed seeing him every weekend like she did when they were in high school together. The two began a friendly conversation as they retreated into the next room.
 Still frozen in place, you tried to grasp hold on your shattering heart. After everything, the ups and downs, the hiding you away, the confessions of love, the sex, he still somehow thinks of you as only…a friend? There was a lump in your throat, making it painful to swallow. Tsukishima didn’t seem to be pressed by the state you were in, he simply walked further into the house to catch up with his mother and friend.
 You took a deep breath to try and regain control of yourself. You attempted to numb the pain in your heart, simply thinking that if he just wanted to be friends then you’d simply treat him as a friend and nothing more. Two could play this game, not matter how much it hurt.
 Tsukki introduced you to his older brother and his significant other. You and Yamaguchi chatted with him while Tsukishima went to help his mother with something in the kitchen. You tried to keep yourself in the moment and to not think too much about the greeting. Though, he repeated himself again when introducing you to Akiteru. Being friendzoned on what you thought was a date was possibly one of the hardest things you’d ever had to do. You wish you could go back in time and decline his invitation to come over in the first place.
 Yamaguchi could read you like an open book. Not that you were incredibly hard to read in the first place, but it was easy to see that something was bothering you. Of course he knew exactly what was on your mind. He took you to the side after you finished chatting with Akiteru. “I’m sorry, I probably should have warned you I had a feeling this would happen.” He said to you in a quiet voice so that no one else could hear him.
 “I just want to go home.” You confessed. Despite how delicious the food smelled, you had no desire to even be near Tsukishima after what he had just done to you. The pain was simply too fresh, the wound too new. “I think I’m going to be sick…”
 He rubbed your back in an attempt to comfort you. “I think this is just his way of testing you.” Yamaguchi said, hoping that it would make you feel better. Alas it only made you feel worse. Why the hell did you need to be tested? Had you not gone through enough together in the past six months? Anger was starting to overwhelm your hurt and Tadashi attempted to backpedal. “I could be wrong though. Sometimes I don’t know what goes on in his head.”
 You dabbed at your eyes with the end of her shirt sleeve to try and keep the tears from falling. “Can you sit between us?” You asked, “I don’t want to be next to him right now.” He nodded, understanding how you were feeling. He wished he could pull Kei aside and ask him himself what was going through that head of his. Why was he doing this to the girl that he said he loved? Sometimes he could be such an enigma.
 Akiteru informed them that dinner was ready and the table was set. Tsukishima as already seated, Yamaguchi stayed true to his word and sat down next to him while you sat next to Yamaguchi. You could feel Kei’s eyes on you, wondering just what you were doing, but you ignored him totally. You told his mother that everything looked and smelled wonderful and she thanked you happily.
 The six of you began to eat, and everything tasted as good as it looked. It was almost worth the heartache that Tsukishima was putting you through, though you had already decided if he was so ashamed of you then you didn’t need to be in a relationship any more. You were hurt, angry, and at this point didn’t know what else to do. If he wanted to break up with you, then he could have found an easier way.
 The dinner was tense to say the least. You did your best to ignore Tsukishima, even though his family kept asking you questions about one another. How you met, did you hang out often, and many other questions that made it obvious that they were trying to see if the two of you were just friends or not. You kept your answers polite, but made it clear that you weren’t in an intimate relationship with Kei, at least not anymore.
 The slipup caused everyone to stare at you with wide eyes, even Kei himself. You not being together anymore was certainly news to him, though he played it off like it was no big deal. He wondered if this was because he didn’t claim you as his significant other right away or if maybe you’d been wanting to break up for some time now. His own mind was clouded with doubts and anxieties as he became even quieter at the table. It was obvious that there was something going on between you two, it was just unclear what exactly that was.
 Once everyone had finished eating, you helped Tsukki’s mother clear up the dishes and put extra food away. “You know, my son has a very interesting way of handling information he doesn’t want his family to know.” She said as she passed you a dish to dry off. “He has always been a very private person, even as a small child. I never quite understood where he got it from.”
 You weren’t sure what her point was, drying off another dish with the towel in your hand. “He never tells us when he has a girlfriend because he’s afraid we’ll bother them.” She said admittedly, “He thinks we’ll pry too much. I think he keeps it a secret more due to his own insecurities than anything else.”
 “Sometimes being kept a secret doesn’t feel very good.” You replied, not knowing what else to say to her. “Being kept in the dark isn’t that great either.”
 “Well, no.” She said back as she finished the last plate and handed it to you. “But he doesn’t have a whole lot of practice with that sort of thing either. I don’t think he reads women very well.”
 You nodded, wanting to believe that his denial of their relationship was simply due to him being an insecure idiot, but it was a little hard to believe. It still felt more like he was ashamed of you. “He’s never actually brought anyone over besides Tadashi before.” His mother said, “I think this was a big step for him.” She left to go tackle another chore as you stayed in the kitchen, nibbling on your lower lip. Did you possibly jump the gun?
 Tsukishima walked into the kitchen and you realized the two of you were alone. He had an apathetic look on his face. “So we’re not together anymore?” He asked, as if the conversation at dinner was unclear.
 Your eyes narrowed and you threw the dishrag at him. “I don’t know, Kei, you tell me.” You hissed before crossing your arms over your chest. “Can you please just take me home?”
 He was frowning, which although wasn’t totally unusual, it was more pronounced than normal. He nodded his head, letting out a soft disappointed sigh before letting everyone know he was going to take you back to your apartment.
 You walked with him to his car, allowing him to open the door for you. You got in, putting the stuffed dinosaur in the backseat. Honestly you didn’t even want to look at it anymore, you had already decided that you’d pretend to forget it there.
 Tsukki got into the driver’s side, buckling his seat belt and starting the car. Already he knew things were worse than he thought. For as long as he’d known you, he’d never seen you abandoned a stuffed toy. You’d always keep it in your lap or in your arms, somewhere close because you wanted it to feel loved (he really didn’t understand this but chose to let it go). He swallowed hard, trying to figure out a way to fix things before they were beyond repair.
 The drive was extremely tense. He caught you sniffling back tears a few times, the need to console you growing more and more despite the fact that now his heart was breaking too. “Listen,” He said, addressing you by your name, “I was going to tell them, but I wanted them to get to know you first without any pressure.” He was inwardly hoping that the truth was enough to heal your hurt, though he wasn’t entirely sure if it was or not. “I knew they’d pry and I thought it would be easier on you if I just said you were a friend.”
 “Kei we’ve been dating six months now and they didn’t even know you were seeing someone?” You asked, though his explanation did help somewhat, it was still unacceptable that you had been kept such a secret. “Why are you so ashamed of me?”
 “I’m not ashamed of you.” He said back, his voice raising a hair at the accusation. “I never said that I was. I just don’t like them butting into my private life, that’s it. It had nothing to do with how I feel about you.”
 You shied away at his loud volume, sinking into the seat like a child that had just been chastised. “That’s what it feels like…” You mumbled back meekly. “That you don’t care enough to tell them about me.”
 He glanced at you before looking back at the road. “How many times have I told you that you mean more to me than anything in the entire world?” He asked, sounding tired. “I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you.” He always hated saying those words, but sometimes the moment did call for it. Moments such as this. “I just didn’t want my family to pester me about you nonstop. They get carried away and it's overwhelming.”
 You were quiet, unsure what to say. “Why didn’t you just tell me that beforehand so I wouldn’t have gotten hurt?”
 His cheeks turned a light shade of pink, “I was going to tell them right away but I panicked at the last moment. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, really.”
 You blinked slowly, reaching into the backseat for the dino and hold. The action made Tsukishima let out a sigh of relief. It was at least a sign that he hadn’t ruined everything completely. “So are we still broken up?”
 “No,” You muttered back to him awkwardly. “I’m sorry I made you leave early.”
 He shrugged, “I’d rather just be with you anyway. Akiteru can be such a pain.”
 A small smile broke on your face as you rode the rest of the way in a happy silence.
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Mobile Masterlist || Request Rules || Collab Masterlist
Tag List: @dabi-hates-fish​, @hawkward​, @writeiolite​ (I think you wanted to be tagged Io, I don’t exactly remember ad;lfkja;dlfja;sdlfj)
865 notes · View notes
xakusa · 8 months ago
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I’ll take care of you / Kuroo Tetsurou ♡
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when you feel like the universe is punishing you for all your poorly made choices, your boss sweeps in and comforts you through these trying times
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♥︎ pairing ⋮ tender/loving/soft dom! + boss!kuroo x f!reader
♥︎ genre ⋮ smut, hurt/comfort, porn with feelings
♥︎ warning/s ⋮ dubcon (superior x subordinate), pet names, slight overstim, office sex, unprotected sex, cheating (mentions of getting cheated on)
♥︎ wc ⋮ 1.9k
♥︎ a/n ⋮ being sad n horny is a big mood so (?) (& how this came out first before my series fics and other wips, I don’t even know) side: I’ll make a proper taglist after I finish my series x
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“___? ___!” The sound of the presenter’s voice snapped you out of your daze. Suddenly, you’re reminded of your current whereabouts, of the cold stare of a dozen heads boring into your skull, and of the meeting at hand. Clenching onto the ballpoint pen and notepad in your hands, you felt weak in the knees from where you stood, just a few steps away from the conference table.
“Are you with us?” with a raised brow, she followed up.
“Y-yes, I’m—”
“I must’ve overworked her today, my bad. Please proceed,” your boss cut you off, and he didn’t even need to turn from his seat for you to know he wore his ever pleasant smile as he answered in your stead. You’d be sure to thank him but knowing him, you know that also meant you owed him one.
Your superior’s face pulled into a scowl at Kuroo’s intervention and you tried to ground yourself by shaking your head and blinking away the tears that almost welled up in your musing. Far too late did you realize that you probably should’ve called in sick instead. Because you were, in fact, sick—sick to the gut even though it had been days since you found out about your boyfriend, nay, ex-boyfriend’s affair.
The meeting pressed on, feeling tortuously longer than it actually is. And rightfully so. To you, this served as the beginning of your punishment for being unable to keep your emotions at bay and for all the wrong decisions you’ve made leading up to this point.
When the meeting ended and your superior dismissed everyone, she caught up with you in the hallway.
“It would be in your best interest to not let any personal feelings get in the way of work, ___” she stressed, after apparently having caught wind of the cause of your dysfunction.
She was about to continue but was deliberately interrupted by a snicker that came from behind you.
The source of the voice laid a hand on top of your shoulder, drawing both your and your superior’s attention to his towering figure.
“Actually, it would be in your best interest to let me deal with my own assistant from now on,” he said as he squeezed your shoulder. For the second time today, Kuroo came to your rescue.
Kuroo telling her upfront not to mess with you was something she had no right to challenge and with that, she excused herself.
“___, my office, now,” he commanded.
“Well, kitten. Wanna tell me what that was about?” He locked the door and shut the blinds, something you learned over time that he did only when he absolutely did not want to be disturbed. He sat on his desk and leaned back with a hand resting on his thigh.
“Am I — uhm... in trouble, sir?”
“It depends. You haven’t been your usual self for the past few days. I’m just a little worried.”
His stern look was unsettling and it betrayed the concern implied in his statement. Your silence didn’t help ease the tension too. Still, you could always be certain that he means well and you really couldn’t hide anything from him.
“You know you can trust me, right?” he probed.
Your eyes refused to meet his, afraid he would get disappointed in you for your poor judgment. But this was Kuroo. You have never known him to be judgemental and you at least owed him this much for looking out for you.
“I... met the girl my boyfriend was having an affair with,” you muttered, clearing your throat as an attempt to relieve the prickling sensation at the back of your throat.
“Some part of me already knew. But I didn’t take it well. Neither did he, so h-he —” your breath hitched and you hadn’t noticed when you started to well up but when you came to, you were already crying. “He broke it off.”
You wiped your tears away with the back of your hand as you heard his footsteps approaching you. You flinched when you felt an arm wrapping around you but you didn’t escape your boss’s hold, even as he pressed you against him. He patted your head, moving his hand in slow soothing strokes, as he shushed you.
He sighed, “oh, kitten. I’m so sorry, you don’t deserve that at all.”
Any minute, someone could knock on his door. He’d have to open it and you’d have to explain what you were doing with him in the locked premises of his office. Any other day, that would have worried you but right now, you didn’t care and he didn’t seem to either. Not when the warmth of his embrace caused the pain in your chest to wash away, even if it’s only temporary.
When you backed away a little to look at him, still in his arms, you noticed how his eyes looked at you with utmost tenderness. And you don’t know how it happened or who started what. Right now, his lips were on yours and all of a sudden, they’re the only things consuming your mind.
His tongue grazed your lips, asking for permission to explore your mouth, and you so willingly granted him access.
You tasted him. And him, you. It wasn’t right.You shouldn’t be doing this. But the mere feeling of being in his arms had been the most secure you had felt in days. You wanted this — no, you needed this. And right now, you felt his need too, growing and pressing hard against your stomach.
He ran a hand along your side and in a flash, you recalled all the other times the two of you danced around the border of what was appropriate between someone of his rank and their subordinate.
You remembered all the times he had asked you to stay much later to keep him company, all the souvenirs he got you from his business trips, how he never once called you ‘kitten’ in front of anyone, his subtle preference to sit next to you in company dinners — where you were sure that his leg brushing yours underneath the table was pure coincidence —and his covert tendency to touch you in places from the small of your back or your waist, up to the back of your neck, places that make you wonder if he’s like that with other people too.
Over and over, you told yourself that those things meant nothing more than honest, friendly, innocent gestures when in fact, even your boyfriend was jealous of Kuroo, often noting how wary he was of Kuroo’s ‘off-putting’ presence. He even went as far as to accuse you of cheating too, even when you swore Kuroo would never do you like that. But you’d be lying if you said you never once thought about it.
“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted you, kitten — how long I’ve wanted you all to myself,” he admitted, moving his lips to kiss the recess between your neck and jaw.
You moaned at the flick of his tongue on your neck, feeling your own heat soaking through your panties. Deciding that you wanted things to move faster, you moved away, instantly missing the feel of his tongue on your skin as you brought your hands to cup his face, “Kuroo, I need you.”
He pressed his forehead against yours and you felt his warm breath fan over your cheek as he pulled you closer to him. Smiling at you, he said, “in here — while I have you like this — I want you to call me Tetsu.”
His voice hinted no pretenses, no hidden motives. This was Kuroo, as he had always been to you — warm, gentle, and sincere.
He kissed you again and you traced your hand from his stomach down, cupping his aching bulge, making him hiss before moving your hand away.
Nervous, you apologized, “I’m sorry, T-Tetsu, I thought you —”
“Tonight’s about you, ___,” he reminded you as he led you to sit on his desk.
He unbuttoned your blouse, helping you out of it before proceeding to unclasp your bra. As if a few seconds ago you weren’t too forward with your actions, you immediately shied behind your hands, hiding your exposed chest from him.
“You don’t have to hide from me, kitten. I won’t hurt you.”
And you believed him. Slowly, you moved your hands away once you earned your confidence from his attempts to reassure you.
Propping a hand beside you, he took your nipple in his mouth, flicking and circling his tongue around it, releasing a popping sound before moving to the other. And you couldn’t help but recline your head back, squirming and revelling at the warm and wet sensation of his mouth on your flesh.
You took off the rest of your clothes, totally baring yourself to him, and he looked at you in awe—dark and hazy eyes roaming your body before focusing on your face once he swiped a finger at your glistening folds.
“Hh — Tetsu, please,” you whined, breath hitching when he propped your leg up, spreading you wide, causing your walls to clench in anticipation.
“Did he ever appreciate you like this?” he asked, rubbing circles on your clit before you got to muster up an answer.
“Answer me, kitten,” he ordered the whimpering mess that you were.
“N-no, Tetsu,” you chirped, one hand gripping at the edge of the table as your breaths grew ragged with how fast he toyed with your clit.
“Do you remember the last time he made you feel good like this?”
“N-not so f-mm-fast, Tetsu,” you pleaded, mouth forming an ‘o’ as you felt the buildup of your first orgasm.
“You didn’t answer me,” he uttered.
You cursed and muffled your screams, coming undone on his fingers as you forced yourself to answer, “no — fuck — hh. N-not like you do, Tetsu. Fuck!”
He didn’t stop, continuously stroking your clit rough and fast until you’re bucking against his hand at your second orgasm.
“Did you like that, kitten?” he asked after moving his hand away to unbuckle his belt, letting you catch your breath and attempt to steady your pounding heart.
Before you get to answer, he added, “he doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t see your worth like I do.”
Everything he told you was the truth. He made you see it as clear as day. Frankly speaking, however, you couldn’t care less about anything besides Kuroo right now. Not when he pulled his hard, throbbing cock out of his trousers — not when you felt his warm tip align at your entrance.
Slowly, he slipped into you, your own wetness allowing him to do so with ease but you winced at the stretch, nonetheless. He waited for you to adjust to his size before he started pumping into you.
“Tetsu!” you cried out, propping one hand behind you and another holding onto his arm for support.
“You have to be quiet, kitten.”
“I know… I-I’m sorry.”
After he cupped your face, he hooked your leg around his waist and you noticed that his thrusts began to lose their rhythm.
His mouth found yours again. You moaned into the kiss as it intoxicated and coaxed you closer to your third orgasm.
Your walls began to flutter around his cock. Soon after, he drew circles on your clit again, teasing you until you purred into his mouth as you hit your finish. He bucked his hips, ramming into you a couple more times before pulling out of you — panting when he reached his own climax and painting your stomach white with his seed.
Once finished, he put his trousers back on, taking a minute to collect himself before he planted a soft, chaste kiss on your lips.
“Don’t you fret anymore, kitten. I’ll take care of you from now on, I promise.”
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© xakusa 2021
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k0utashi · a month ago
˗ˏˋ last chance — bokuto kōtarō ˎˊ˗
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summary: life is about making choices, and when the last chance to be happy presents itself, do you take it or leave it? pairing: bokuto kōtarō x fem!reader genre/warnings: friends to lovers, angst with a good ending word count: 1921 a/n: hi hi, i'm here to repost one of my favs! this is based on a grey's anatomy episode and it's really self-indulgent but i don't care, i just love it, and i hope you love it too!
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Weddings are supposed to be fun, and your wedding day is supposed to be the greatest of all but, why doesn't it feel that way? The words of your mother and friends were going in and out of your ears without being really registered by your brain, and your body felt dead in Asahi's hands as he finished adjusting your dress. At the same time, the last drops of makeup fell on your face, and the hands in your hair made you focus on your reflection.
That glow your mom talked about so much is gone, the emotion in your eyes does not exist, and the only thing present in your mind isn’t your vows, it isn’t your fiancé, it’s your best friend.
Bokuto's message repeats itself like a mantra in your mind, the words of a drunken man in love echoing over and over in your heart. The "I love you" between the tears and the unexpected confession are still fresh in your memory, erasing all traces of sanity.
"I can't," was the broken murmur and trembling of your hands that put a stop to the madness in the room. "I can’t do it."
“Do what?” The worried tone of your mother's voice and the confusion drawn on Kiyoko's face made you rethink the situation in a matter of seconds. Is it worth throwing away a secure future in exchange for a possible relationship with Bokuto? After all, he was drunk and confused when he called you, but aren't drunk people and children the ones who always tell the truth? The air around you seemed to diminish with every breath and questions bombarded your confused head. Why now? Why did he have to confess it now and not before? Why now that you had buried the love for him under layers within your heart?
"Dear?" Your mother's voice took you away from the sea of uncertainty once more, she took your face between her hands and after slightly scanning your expression, she told the rest to leave them alone. "What’s wrong?"
You didn't notice you were crying until the tips of her fingers gently brushed away all traces of tears from your cheeks, the warmth in her eyes broke your heart, and the layers that covered the love for your best friend cracked once again. "He said he loved me, but he was drunk.
The woman in front of you doesn't let you see the shock your words caused her. Her perfectly outlined lips don't let out any comments while she finishes correcting your makeup. Her hands are soft as they move towards your hands, a tight smile takes place on her face and the pain in your chest seems to grow before you hear her say the obvious.
“There is a man outside who loves you deeply and is willing to share his future with you, who dared to make the decision and ask you if you wanted to share your life with him, and you said yes. Now is not the time to go back."
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The warm summer air touches his cheeks softly as the sun shining on the horizon seems to shout at him to run, and the accelerated rhythm of his heart seems to agree with the shining star.
The night before was a mistake. Bokuto knew that accepting Kuroo's idea of going to drink before seeing the love of his life marry another man was a bad idea, but he was an expert in taking them. His hands did not respond to his brain when the warning signs seemed to flash red. He didn’t want to ruin your day, he really didn’t, but the words ran before he could stop them. And suddenly, the friendship was ruined, or that was what he thought.
The memory of your silence before his words was suffocating, he could clearly imagine your face as he cried "I love you’s" as if they were the only words swimming in his mind. The thought of breaking your heart the day before the most important moment in your life was tearing him apart, but his own heart seemed to break every minute he spent thinking of your silhouette wrapped in a white dress and walking towards a happy ending that wouldn’t be with him.
From the balcony of his room, he watched people walk —almost run— towards the beach to finish arranging the last details of the place where the ceremony would take place. Right in front of the sunset, your lips would pronounce "Yes, I do” in the same way you practiced with him when you were kids, and then he would watch you walk away with someone else’s hand in yours.
What if he left? After all, he wasn't sure if he wanted to see you after crying for your love through a phone call, but wouldn't that make him a bad friend?
With tears threatening to fall, he walked to the bed where his body fell like a dead weight. How stupid did he have to be to ruin his best friend's life? The anxiety in his body seemed to be awakened by the rapid knocking on the door of whoever was on the other side —probably Akaashi to remind him that the ceremony would start soon and they should go downstairs. But when he opened the door the person in front of him was someone he didn't expect to see.
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Anyone with two working eyes could see that your smile was fake, the excitement still didn't appear on your face and the aura that surrounded you didn’t match a bride who took months to plan the perfect day. This time it wasn't the words of your best friend that filled your mind. "It's not time to turn back,” it's not, it's not, it's not.
Someone calling your name from a distance distracts you from the turbulence, and when your grandmother's overly bright smile appears in front of you it’s hard to ignore that something has been done. "It's never too late to be cupid."
The confused look on your face should be enough to make her understand that her words didn’t register in your brain, but the tug on your right hand didn’t give time for questions; your bridesmaids were ready to lead you to the altar, but you weren’t ready to get married.
You smiled at Yachi and were quick to follow her, it wasn’t fair to the man waiting for you to start doubting now, but your mind couldn’t help to wander to the “what if” that Bokuto ignited last night.
What if I ran away? Yachi is distracted, my mom is outside with the guests, and if I’m lucky enough nobody at the parking lot will try to stop me. What the hell am I thinking? I can’t do that. I’m a coward. Stupid owl boy, stupid feelings; life was easier when we were kids.
You spotted Bokuto’s hair first, he was sitting next to Kuroo in the second row. Your heart ached at the sight, and when your eyes trailed to your fiancé, you felt the tears again. You didn’t search first for him. You did it for the best friend you were in love with.
The music started when the quartet saw you standing at the end of the improvised aisle decorated with seashells to mark your way. You faked another smile, fixing your gaze on the man standing at the other end. All while avoiding eye contact with the rest of the guests and trying to calm the fast beating of your heart, you trailed after Kiyoko’s footsteps. You tried, really tried, to not look in his way, but it was impossible. He looked drowned, his usual vibrating aura wasn’t there, his face didn’t light up when he saw you, and you were sure his mind was plagued with guilt.
You sent him a small smile when the last piece of your heart fell to his feet.
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Beautiful, that was Bokuto’s first thought when he saw you walk down the aisle. Your grandma’s words stuck in his head and repeated again and again when your eyes looked for him. She said he had a chance with you, that it wasn’t too late even though it sounded selfish, it was worse for you to pretend a happy marriage than ditching a man at the altar —her words, not his.
But he was scared, under all the playfulness and careless actions, he loved you enough to watch you go. He didn’t want to hurt you more, your eyes didn’t have the sparkle you always had whenever you talked about your special day, and it was his fault.
Bokuto Koutarou saw with tears in his eyes as the man in front of you recited his vows, taking in your nervous self and that obvious fake smile, the last piece of his heart fell to your feet.
“Stop moping,” Kuroo whispered. “You heard her grandma, you have one last chance, and I’m not going to see you waste it.”
Before he could react, his friend made him stand. He froze, feeling all the eyes on him as he fidgeted with the sleeves of his dress shirt. He watched how your eyes widened and the confusion washed over the groom, looking at him dumbfounded.
His golden eyes looked straight at you, he lost all the fear when you two made eye contact, and last night's words made their way back to his mind in a blink. From his peripheral vision, he saw your grandma pulling your mom back to her chair and giving him a silent nod.
You can do it Koutarou, it’s your last chance.
“Y/N, we’ve been knowing each other for as many years as I can count. You’ve been by my side supporting me since we were kids, you never missed a match, and you always said I love you back.” He took a deep breath, feeling the rate of his heart go higher with every word he took a step next to you and extended his hand with a silent plea. “I love you, and I wish I could hear you say it back for the rest of my life.”
You didn’t dare to look at anyone else, your hands felt sweaty, and the tears were starting to fall down your cheeks. Your mind was going full speed, and your thoughts were mixed again; you could hear the guests’ whispers, the questions from Yachi to Kiyoko, and Hinata’s squeals. Everyone seemed to be in shock, everyone except for the old lady in the front row.
It's now or never.
You throw yourself into his arms before pulling at his hand to run away from the chaos unleashed behind you. Your mom’s screams were audible even when you two were inside the hotel and running to the parking lot. Your heart never felt so full of love until you saw his eyes. He got you trapped between his body and his car, his golden eyes were once again sparkling, and his whole dementor went back to his usual self.
“I do love you,” you whispered through your silent tears.
This time he didn’t say anything and closed the distance between your bodies, his lips crashed against yours in a soft kiss, his hands found their way to your face and wiped away your tears. There are a lot of things unresolved, but right there, the only thing that matters is the steady beat of your heart and the gentle hands of your lover.
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diyeoracha · 7 months ago
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k e e p  m o v i n g  f o r w a r d
orig. by furudate.
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