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#hq x reader
detetsu · a day ago
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iwaizumi has never once forgotten a date.
oikawa's always told him it makes him sound weird and robotic—that no one remembers the exact day they broke their first bone or had their first kiss, iwa. that memories pass and days fade and you're not meant to remember the exact date of every little thing, but, if he's being completely honest, iwaizumi kind of likes it.
he's never forgotten a date, and so today, your birthday, is really no exception.
granted, he didn't expect himself to be standing at your front porch with a little piece of paper stuffed in his pocket today—but facetime just didn't seem like enough and he couldn't stomach the idea of you getting your birthday gift from the postman, so here he is.
"hajime?" you hover in the doorway, eyeing him, and for a moment, he thinks this might have been an incredibly stupid idea. "what are you doing here?"
"your birthday," he breathes. "i didn't wanna miss it."
and you laugh, "so you came all the way here?"
"so i came all the way here, yeah." he stands there for a moment, hoping to gauge some kind of reaction out of you, but he's caught between shock and horror, so that isn't really doing him any good.
"you really didn't have to"
"i know, i just," he hesitates, digging around in his pocket for a moment before he fishes out the paper. "i really wanted to hear your voice and i really wanted to give this to you in person and i really didn't want you to think i forgot, so here."
normally, he would curse himself for the word vomit, but right now he's a little busy thrusting an envelope into your hands for him to bring himself to care.
"oh-" you hold the letter between your fingers, twisting the little opening of the envelope in your hands. "what is it?"
and he eyes you.
"okay, yeah, yeah i have to open it to find out. you don't even have to say it," you say, and he chokes out a little laugh.
"at least you figured it out, i guess." he watches you sink your fingers beneath the little cover, unfolding the sheets in your hands and, he really considers telling you to wait until later to read it. he doesn't.
"babe?" you ask, and you look like you could cry. "did you write me a love letter for my birthday?"
he did. it's brief, incredibly so, and he's not sure he said anything that he was trying to say, but it's in his handwriting and it's in your hands, so he's not sure he could take it back now if he tried. truthfully, judging by the way your eyes spill across the words, holding the little letter in shaky hands, he's not so sure he'd want to either.
"something like that," he shrugs. "just—don't make fun of me if it sounds stupid."
"hajime," you start.
"or do, i guess, it doesn't really matter and it's your birthday so whatever makes you happy—"
"haji." he pauses.
"sorry, what?"
and you kiss him. it's a crash of lips and a crinkle of paper and the joining of the both of you on your little doorstep. it's the twisting of breaths and the ache of reunion and happy birthday whispered across your tongue.
you kiss him, and when you're finished, and your lips are sucking in every little twist of air they can muster, you kiss him again. you kiss him until his lungs ache—until his being is as much yours as it is his own, until the rain starts coming down too hard and you're both too soaked to think and you're pulling him inside by the wrist, so you can take him to your room and stare at his handwriting a little more.
you kiss him, and iwaizumi realizes at that moment that really, really likes remembering dates, especially if they're for you.
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aominology · 18 hours ago
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[6:31 P.M.]
“just one kiss.”
“one kiss-! bokuto, you’re crazy,” you hiss, hoping no one’s noticing your private conversation amidst the family barbecue. just to check, you peer over the taller man’s slightly hunched shoulders, catching eye contact with one of his aunties and grinning her way when she waves. only does the brightness in your eyes dull when you meet bokuto’s panicked ones.
“my sisters, the cousins-” he pauses to fling his arm in the direction of where his younger family members are, lounging in lawn chairs as they discuss school and their early jobs. “they don’t believe we’re dating!”
“and that’s my problem?” you frown, anxiety creeping into your belly at the mere thought of having an audience for a kiss that won’t even be real!
“our problem, y/n,” bokuto whines, visibly straining as he attempts to chip at your stubborn wall. “the favor was that you be my date to the family barbecue, pretending to be my girlfriend. well, we’ve got family who don’t believe it!”
“you didn’t mention i’d have to kiss you!“ you retaliate, peeking over at his cousins who’re staring rather skeptically, maybe even amused, at the two of you. it’d be a lie if you said they were totally buying your relationship.
to be fair, the way you both announced it was a little suspicious. just a few weeks earlier one of bokuto’s aunts offered to set him up with one of her employees his age to which he, in a panic, begged you to attend his family gathering to decline that. he hoped that in showing you off as his, they’d finally get off his back about having a significant other.
and it worked! … for some members of his family.
his older relatives only had to see your smiling face and holding hands to receive the memo and approve of his relationship.
his sisters and cousins? they’re not too easily swayed.
“isn’t it a bit convenient you announce your relationship just a week after auntie wanted to set you up with someone?” a cousin asked, amused grin adorning his face.
“yeah!” his older sister had chimed. “how dare you keep you and y/n’s status for so long!”
meanwhile, his other sister grumbled to herself in agreement, claiming that all this time while she thought you were just friends, you were supposed lovers?
“why is it such a big deal?” bokuto asks, genuinely curious, tilting his head slightly as his eyes widen in wonder.
the fact that he has to ask that, alluding he doesn’t think it such a big deal, makes you more embarrassed.
“because it is!” you huff, keeping your face straight so the rest of his family don’t sense your wary expression. “you don’t just kiss anyone!”
“you’ve kissed akaashi’s cheek when he was being asked out by that girl he wasn’t into! how’s that different?”
“it just is!”
how else are you supposed to say that kissing akaashi is different than kissing bokuto because you don’t have feelings for akaashi?
“please enlighten me.”
bokuto’s stubborn face is on now, furrowed brows and eyes lidded downward as his lips twist into a heavy pout. he’s concentrated, watching you closely and you know getting out of this will be difficult. he crosses his arms, awaiting your answer.
“well?”
“it’s different,” you murmur, looking down at the green grass below you. the night air, humid from the time of year, blows against you, giving you a sense of coolness amidst your warm cheeks and beating heart.
bokuto senses the change in your demeanor, suddenly realizing that whatever’s in your head much be more serious than he’d originally thought. so, he gently takes your wrist and before you know it, you’re being guided back into his parents’ home.
“kotaro?” his mother asks, grabbing at his arm before he passes the older members of the family sitting in a circle whose interests are all suddenly piqued by him as well. “everything okay?”
bokuto gives his mother an easy grin. “yep! y/n’s just thirsty so i’m grabbing her some water from inside.”
accepting his response, she lets go and returns back into the conversation with the elders. bokuto continues to pull you inside until your in the cool, air conditioned room of the kitchen.
letting go of your wrist, he leans against one of the counters facing you. “i didn’t mean to push you into anything but you can always talk to me.”
you know you should’ve internally debated accepting his request for a favor more than how you quickly accepted. then again, how can you deny bokuto when he gives you those widened, puppy-dog eyes and watery pout all while clasping his hands in a pleading manner?
really, it was just unfair.
you didn’t actually think you’d have to do much at this function, though. maybe holding hands with him and allow his to hold you class as he gushed about some made up story about how you started dating; something like “we’ve been friends for years now but it was recently that I saw her in a different light so I just decided to tell her!” oh, how simple him confessing must be. too bad that’s all fake. still, you never expected him to actually ask you to kiss, nonetheless in front of his whole family.
it takes away from the experience. first, you have to kiss someone in a not serious way and now added to the fact that it’s for the show for someone else to see?
maybe it’s the root cause that you have feelings for the man that’s getting you so frustrated about it. that surely had to be it. but how on earth were you supposed to explain that to him without it explicitly telling him you like him?
“no, no, i’m sorry for over exaggerating,” you mumble. “it’s just different because we’re close friends.” bokuto opens his mouth, mostly likely to claim that akaashi’s also a close friend of yours but you don’t allow that. “and you’re different than akaashi.”
“i am?” he asks blankly, furrowing his brows deeper. you can’t tell if he feels utterly lost or maybe even offended in case he’s thinking he’s not on the same level as your other friend. maybe it’s a bit of both.
“yeah, it’s … ugh, do i have to explain it?” a sigh from you. “i shouldn’t have agreed to this.”
“oh,” bokuto lets out, visibly slouching. so you regretted being his fake date that much? he thinks he gets it now. “i’ll just say you weren’t feeling well and you had to go. you really don’t have to stay if it’s making you that uncomfortable.”
“no!” you quickly blurt, waving your hands in front of you. “that’s not what i meant!”
“seriously y/n, it’s okay. i overstepped by asking and you’re just being nice because we’re friends. i’m sorry-”
“i don’t wanna kiss you because it won’t be real!” you cut off his rambles from further making himself feel bad.
bokuto seems to not have gotten it completely by the way he looks at you skeptically. “huh?”
you sigh, face flushing deeper. “i don’t want to kiss you because it’ll mean more to me than it does to you,” you admit in a quiet voice. “the reason for the kiss would just be to win over your sisters and cousins but to me, it’d be more. so i can’t kiss you.”
“it’d be more?” he repeats softly, eyebrows lifting in slight surprise. his expression softens when you look down, avoiding eye contact with him.
to be honest, you don’t remember when you developed feelings for your friend. whether it was in the beginning of your friendship, having always thought he was an attractive man or being a stellar volleyball player, or if it developed over time, growing used to his platonic affection and kind words to you, at this point in time, you’re completely smitten.
and you’ve hidden it to the best of your ability in fear of losing him as a friend. from what you could tell, bokuto was friendly with everyone so he didn’t give you much of a reason o believe your feelings were reciprocated.
“yeah,” you trail off, shuffling your feet on the tiled floors in attempt to keep your attention busy. “sorry to just spring that on you, didn’t mean to.”
“no,” he says quietly, denying your apology, assuring you. “don’t apologize. it’s just, um, not what i expected.”
ah, the conversation you’ve feared. the awkwardness leading to the inevitable rejection from someone you considered a close friend. there goes that friendship. the pit in your stomach grows as your heartbeat continues to erratically beat in your chest.
you need to get out of this situation.
“yep, so i’ll be going now. tell your family i said bye and the food was delicious-”
you’re cut off when bokuto’s hand grabs your wrist again, this time more firmly, in fear you’d slip out of his grasp to leave his house in a hurry, which to be fair, was something you were planning on doing.
“wait.”
you swallow the lump in your throat, eying his hand on your arm. slowly, you look up at his face, sucking in your lips as you brace for the impact of his future words.
“what if i want to kiss you, though?”
“what?” you ask, shaking your head from his question, not expecting it.
“you said that it’d mean more to you because my reason is to get my family to believe, right?” at your nod for confirmation, a glum one at that, he continues, “but what if i also wanna kiss you just ‘cause? what if it means more to me, too?”
“bokuto…” you trail off, doubting his words. he really didn’t have to try and make you feel better with words.
“i’m serious!” he claims. “everything else would be a bonus. i’d kiss ‘ya without anyone watching if i could.”
your face burns even hotter at the insinuation of his words. so he’s not just trying to make you feel better?
“and well, now that I know the feeling’s mutual, can i?”
“huh?” you squeak when he takes a step closer to you, close enough you can feel his breath fanning your face.
“can i kiss you? for real?” he asks again, dipping his head down, believing — no, knowing — you’d say yes. and when you nod, ever so subtly, he molds his lips against yours.
it’s a soft kiss at first, a simple test of the waters, but when his hands go up to your cheeks and holds you face in place and your hands move up to clutch his waist, the time for timidness is over. bokuto kisses you with fervor, like a starved man, smiling against your lips when you squeak and sigh into his mouth, breaths of relief as if thinking finally, this is happening.
the way he kisses you has you dipping downward, clutching onto him so you don’t feeling backward, not that you would; he’d catch you before that could happen. you’re fully consumed by bokuto and though you’re head is spinning from the lack of air, you can’t will yourself to pull away. not when you’ve been waiting, yearning for this moment for god knows how long.
“kotaro, your mom said you were in- oh.” a voice calls into the kitchen, stunning the both of you in place, only making your face spring apart in surprise.
you spin around to face bokuto’s eldest cousin frozen in place at the entrance of the kitchen, blinking at the both of you. a moment passes with the three of you looking between each other and then his cousin relaxes.
“i’m just here for some plates,” he says coolly, swiping the plates conveniently set on the counter to his chest. “i’ll, uhm, leave you two to it.” the cousin then scurries out of the kitchen and it isn’t until your heard the back door swing open and close that you face bokuto who’s grinning down at you.
“what’d i say? it’s a bonus.” he wiggles his brows, insinuating that his eldest cousin was probably off affirming your relationship to the rest of the family, no need for some extravagant public display of affection.
you swat at his arm, only for his to take ahold of your hands and interlace your fingers. “what’re you-” you furrow your brows, to be cut off by his lips once more.
“making up for lost time.” bokuto smiles against your lips, sealing the space between them once more.
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augustinewrites · a day ago
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sakusa kiyoomi is late.
once upon a time, the mere idea of tardiness would have irritated him, but a lot of things have changed since he’d gotten married to you.
it’s not like he’d planned on being late. but he’d bought a new compression shirt recently, and had been trying it on when you’d walked into the room.
he’d just lost track of time when you’d peeled the shirt off his chest and kissed that sinful little trail down his abdomen.
and now he was late.
the team is five minutes away from warmup when he speed walks (he refused to incriminate himself and run) out of the locker room and to msby’s bench. he does his best to ignore his teammate’s pointed stares as he sets his waterbottle down and starts to stretch.
meian, who is standing next to him, asks, “newlywed life treating you well?”
he’s a little confused on what could have brought this up, but he nods anyway. “of course.”
his captain just grins, clapping him on the back. “well, don’t work yourself too hard. we need you at your best against schweiden next week.”
sakusa hums his assent, but doesn’t get what he means. it’s at that moment that the ref is blowing the whistle to call captains, so he doesn’t get to ask either.
so it’s not until the next day that he gets his answer.
and this time, he’s so fucking late.
late enough that a brisk speed walk won’t do. no, he’s jogging through the parking lot and into the restaurant, face a little flushed and breaths a little heavy as the hostess leads him to the table.
he can feel the stares of disbelief from his friends burning holes into his face as he mumbles an apology. once he’s slid his jacket off and is seated, he cuts them all a look that dares to ask.
it’s atsumu, of course, who dares. “who knew you were such a slut, omi-omi?”
hinata looked as if he was going to faint.
bokuto turned away, about to pop a lung with how hard he was trying to hold back his laughter.
sakusa’s gaze narrows dangerously. “excuse me?”
the setter simply shrugs, pointing at his chest. “you button that up in the dark or something?”
he quickly glances down at his chest, mortified to see that in his rush to get dressed, he’d skipped a few eyelits on his shirts. it’s hem was untucked too, only accentuating his unfortunate state of disarray.
well, what was he supposed to say to them? that you’d dragged him upstairs for a quickie when he was halfway out the door?
“you have been late a lot lately,” bokuto points out, as if that’s supposed to be helpful. “you were late to conditioning yesterday morning.”
sakusa opens his mouth to form an explanation, but it dies on the tip of his tongue when he realizes that he can’t share that you’d told him lifting you up and pressing into the shower wall had counted as strength and stamina training.
his teammates start listing off all the instances that he’d been tardy, and it’s with growing realization that sakusa realizes there’s only one common deniminator here.
it was none of their business. he was getting laid, like they’d been telling him he should be since he’d joined the team.
but the fact that people were starting to notice his increasing tardiness combined with the fact that miya atsumu was calling him a slut?
-
“done,” you hum, completing the knot of his tie as sakusa tries so hard to ignore the way you smooth your hands over his chest. “you look great.”
“thank you,” he murmurs, staring at the ceiling as you get up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his jaw.
then one to his neck.
then you nudge the collar of his shirt aside and place one on his collarbone.
this is always how it starts.
and you’re entirely too enticing, your sweet-smelling perfume flooding his senses as you press your lips to his skin and bite—
in a panic, he grasps your arms and pulls you away, ignoring the offended look on your face. “we can have fun after the awards ceremony. we can even leave early.”
“but omi, i want you now,” you pout. “i can be quick!”
“take care of yourself then. we can’t be late.”
you whine a little, tugging on his sleeve. “but i want you to do it.”
“no. i’ve been spoiling you too much.”
a gasp. you pinch his arm, huffing, “‘m not spoiled.”
“you are,” he laughs, taking your hand and kissing your knuckles. “and i love spoiling you, but if we’re late, that means i’ll be proving miya right.”
“about what?”
“doesn’t matter,” he deflects, dropping your hand in favour of gripping your jaw, pulling you in to press a kiss to your pretty, pouting lips. “just be good for a few hours, alright? then i’ll reward you later.”
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toorusluvr · 2 days ago
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SNEAKY LINK PART 2 - MIYA ATSUMU X F!READER
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characters: miya atsumu x f!reader
cw: accidental pregnancy trope + hate sex + pregnancy sex + unprotected sex + lactation kink +  nipple play + mentions of giving birth + reader chose to keep the baby + hints of gaslighting in the arguments 
word count: 5.3k
note from nis: hii. this is a continuation of sneaky link part 1. it’s been in my drafts for quite some time so enjoy reading the part 2 since some of the readers requested for a part 2! please proceed reading with caution. check the cw before reading since some people don’t like the accidental pregnancy trope :) thank you for reading! your reblogs, likes, and comments are very much appreciated!
[part 1][part 2]
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Who would have guessed it’d rain heavily amid the heat of the summer? Your umbrella was left at home, and now your clothes are drenched. You rushed under the roof of a random shop, hoping the rain would stop anytime soon. 
The wind was quite strong, and you ended up clinging to yourself because of the chilly weather. There weren’t any passers-by because of the pouring rain. You assumed you had to wait until the rain finally stopped before you could walk home. 
You looked to your left and right, praying God would send you someone who could lend you their help. Your lips started to quiver in the chilly weather, the rain softly hitting your bodies and continued wetting your clothes. It’s not going to stop anytime soon, is it? 
A red Mercedes parked in front of you. The windows are all tinted black – you could barely see who’s driving. The driver rolled down the window, and you didn’t expect to see who’s inside. Atsumu. The baby daddy. It’s been months, and how did he appear in front of you all of a sudden?
“Get in, loser. It’s raining,” you heard him shout over the curb. Atsumu saw you, and he did not have the nerve to leave you alone. It was raining. You were defenceless. 
You shook your head, “Nice offer, but no, thank you.” As stubborn as you’d like to be, you decided to hide your pregnancy from him. His mean comments are the last thing you would have wanted during your pregnancy. Your parents did not even know about this. You were left alone on your own, struggling to make ends meet even with the help of your parents’ money.
Atsumu sighed. He knew that you would decline his offer. Unbuckling his seatbelt, he opened his door and jogged over you. His eyes fell on your wet white shirt, your skin peeking through the thin material. “Why are you so fucking stubborn? Just do what I said, will you? Now, get inside!” He pushed you into the passenger seat. 
Your energy was sucked out of you the moment he showed up. There’s no use in fighting the devil. His leather seat is now pooling with water from your clothes, and you felt sorry for ruining his expensive car. “Why the hell are you helping me?” You jeered. “I guess I am sorry for spoiling your car,” you added. 
“What would you do if you saw a dog or a cat stuck in the rain? Shivering in the cold?” Atsumu shifted his gear stick to Drive, slowly driving out of the city area. He spared a glance at you, waiting for your response. It’s either a genuine answer or another clap-back, he thought. You and your smart mouth.
“I’d rescue them, of course,” you nonchalantly replied to his stupid question. 
Atsumu snickered. His tongue poking his inner cheek. “That’s what I’m doing. Saving an animal stranded in the rain. You.” He glanced to your side. You were already glaring at him. 
“Oh. Shut up, will you? I didn’t ask to be rescued by you,” you crossed your arms angrily, eyes fixated on the road in front of you. The road that lies in front is not the route to your home. Maybe he wanted to drop you off in a secluded place and let you starve. 
Petty attitude. The classic old you. “Be thankful, will you?” Atsumu replied. Instead of taking you to your home, he brought you to his. He’s currently living alone, but Osamu always visits him randomly. The door of the apartment was unlocked, revealing the insides of his house. “What are you waiting for? Come in.” 
You hesitated to take another step. Atsumu rolled his eyes at you. “I am not selling your organs. Why the fuck are you so scared of me? I don’t bite unless you like, but whatever,” he cleared his throat after making a stupid joke at the wrong timing. 
You sighed. Yes, you were thankful because Atsumu showed up on time. Being stranded in the rain while being pregnant is the last thing you want. Obliging his words, you stepped inside of his apartment. Right now, you just wanted to take a fresh shower and change into a new set of clothes. 
His house is cosy. Everything is minimalist. You had imagined his home is filled with the piling dirty clothes all over his apartment, but it is surprisingly clean and neat. Everything is organised neatly, with no signs of junk foods or soda cans cluttering the floor. You did not realise when Atsumu was gone, and by the time he came back to the living room, he’s passing you the clean towel. 
“I’ll look for clothes. Have a seat first,” he asked.
You took the towel in your hand, walking over to the couch. Atsumu’s eyes following your movements, eyeing you in the soaked white shirt that was exposing your skin. “Did you gain weight?” he blatantly asked. Yes, he was careless with his words and that offended you even more. 
Both of you gave each other a judging look. “I’m gonna pretend I did not hear that,” you said while drying your hair. 
,
“No, seriously. Why is your stomach bulging?” Atsumu cocked his eyebrows at you, pointing at the baby bump that he thought was gained weight. He was waiting for the perfect time to ask you because he was curious. It’s attracting his attention in an odd but good way. 
Your eyes widened, shocked at his assumption. Hurriedly, you placed the towel to cover your baby bump. You forgot that the shirt stuck to your skin when it’s drenched. Atsumu lifted your chin with his finger, “What are you hiding from me?” 
“Nothing. Lay your finger on me again, I’ll wreck your tiny fingers,” you gritted through your teeth, threatening him to not touch you mindlessly. You yanked his wrist away from your face and cleared your throat awkwardly. 
Atsumu’s brain cells started connecting the dots together. “Take off your clothes now,” he commanded. How many months has it been since the party? He has lost track of time, but he suspected something. It couldn’t be, right? 
He heard you snickered. 
“Don’t ask me to do dumb things, idiot. I am not taking my clothes off in front of you even though this is your house,” you said, crossing your arms to your chest as Atsumu looked down at you. His tall figure looming over you, casting a shadow over you. 
Atsumu bit his tongue. He rashly undid your buttons, and you tried to throw him off of you, but he gripped your hands above your head. “Try to stop me or I'll kiss you hard,” he threatened. Your shoulders slumped back, relaxing your tensed muscles. You saw he stopped in his tracks and the surprised look on his face was evident. 
“You’re pregnant?” he asked. His eyes stared into yours, hoping for an honest answer instead of your sarcastic replies. “Don’t play around. I need an honest answer.” 
You certainly never thought the day you have to explain your pregnancy to him would come this fast. A deep sigh escaped your mouth. “Yes.”
Atsumu sighed. “Whose is it?” 
Is he dumb? He is sure it has something to do with him. He still remembered he asked you if you were on pills, and you said no, assuming it was a made-up lie to despise him. It couldn’t be true. Wait, he’s not ready to be a father or provide a home for you and the child. What’s he gonna do if it’s his?
Jerking your face away, you stood up to him. “Seriously? Is that dumb brain of yours unable to connect the dots at all? Count how many months has it been since the party, dumbass,” you used our index finger to poke his chest harshly. 
“So, it was true you weren’t on pills that night? You weren’t lying in the car?” Atsumu asked. His breath became heavier as time passed by. He then gripped your shoulders, squeezing them tightly. “Tell me!” 
You winced in pain when the strong pair of his hands hurting you. “Stop! You’re hurting me!” you wriggled your body so he would get his hands off of you. Atsumu freed you, taking a step back when he realised he was hurting you unintentionally.
“No! I was not lying that night. And, I didn’t intend on telling you either. Don’t tell me what to do because it’s my body and my choice. If you don’t want to do anything with this kid, then there’s nothing for you to worry about,” you finished off your sentences with a deep sigh. Your mind was spinning, barely feeling your legs on the ground anymore. 
Atsumu stopped breathing for a while. “You should have told me you weren’t on pills before I even laid my hands on you! We are only 19! What am I supposed to do with my career and a kid? At this age?” Atsumu had a feeling that he might be gaslighting, yet he went on, being reckless with his words. 
You looked straight at him with a sharp glare. “Don’t you fucking dare blame me. I said it’s fine if you don’t want anything to do with this child. It’s not your fucking problem, Miya. Move along with your life and pretend you didn’t knock someone’s daughter up. Live a happy life with your future partners!” You breathed heavily, tears prickling in the corner of your eyes. 
The image of raising a baby all alone at the age of 19 scares you. Your parents expected only the best from you, yet you got pregnant in your young adult age. You’re supposed to have fun with your peers, but you are busy thinking of how to raise a goddamn child.
“But you ruined my life, Miya. You took my whole youth away when you knocked me up. But I never blamed you in your face because I fucking knew it’s a part of my fault too. Don’t you fucking dare point your finger at me again,” you lifted your index finger to his chest and pushed it away. 
You hurriedly wiped the tears away while your hands buttoned your shirt back on. Atsumu was at a loss for words. He saw you rushing to the door, but he blocked you. “Where do you think you’re going? Sit. I was not done talking,” he raised his eyebrows at you. Atsumu then dragged you to his bedroom to look for clean clothes you can wear. 
He sat you on his bed. His main purpose of coming back to his bedroom was long forgotten. Atsumu would be lying if he didn’t feel guilty at all. “I wasn’t blaming you! And, never will I ask you to harm the child or whatsoever. Please, just.. we need to sort this out. Did your parents know?” 
You shook your head. “I’m living by myself right now and working too. Must be nice to be you. Look at your house, it’s spacious enough for you alone. And, good money rolling in too,” you said. Your heart was filled with anger and jealousy. He has everything in his life that you may never have. Ever. 
Atsumu raised his eyebrows, head tilting to the side to swallow your thoughts. “What are you trying to say? You should be jealous. Wait, no. That does not sound right. Uh. Ugh, this is so hard!” 
He tried to register what was happening and what he should do in this situation. But, it seems like Osamu will know how to handle this situation better. He’ll just give him a call later. He really needs his advice right now, and Osamu knows how to help him sort this out. 
“Bitch. You really asked what I was trying to say? It’s so fucking easy for you to do anything you want because you are not freaking pregnant! And you have everything while I suffer!” You raised your voice, chest heaving up and down before feeling needles prickled in your throat. It hurt to the point you had to grab onto your shirt, hoping it’d go away in an instant. 
Atsumu rolled his eyes. “God damn it. No one asks you to keep the child if it’s bothering you, woman!” He jeered. You’re just looking for ways to paint him as the bad guy here, blaming everything on him as if you aren’t capable of making decisions. 
“You fucking gave me this child, Atsumu!” You yelled. Keeping the child is your choice but having the child in the first place was not your intention. You had to blame him other than blaming yourself. “God. This is fucking ridiculous! You can ignore this, Atsumu.”
“I’ll be solely responsible for my child. You.. just enjoy your life, I guess.” Getting up from the bed, you neared the bedroom door that led to the living room. 
Atsumu pulled your hand until your body crashed into his. He had his arm wrapped around your waist and his palm on the baby bump. “We haven’t finished talking,” he murmured. “Why is it so hard for you to listen to me? The only time you ever stopped and listened was when my balls were deep inside you. Do I have to fuck you for you to listen to me? Hm?” 
Your breath hitched. Atsumu laid you on his bed, crawling on top of you with his thighs resting on your sides. He unbuttoned your shirt again, revealing your sports bra and the noticeable baby bump. “This time you have to listen to me because it’s the only time you ever listen to me,” he said while his eyes locked with yours. 
He felt you tried to get him off of your body, but he stopped. “Stop me, and you’ll see how you end up later,” he threatened. You gave in, feeling his lips on your lips, and he moved his head to the side, deepening the kiss. His mind started recalling the memories of that night your child was conceived. The way your lips felt on his. It was an indescribable feeling. 
Life’s funny. There are consequences of having too much fun. What are the odds? Atsumu admits it’s his fault too but he isn’t ready. He figures that it must be harder for you. 
Atsumu broke the kiss, eyes focused on the forming wet patch on your sports bra. “Are you lactating now?” He asked, genuinely wanting to know if it’s lactation. 
“You know about pregnancy way too much for a dumbass,” you jeered. Atsumu scowled, “Do you really think I am an idiot? I am no idiot, baby.” He bit on your lower lip whilst having his fingers trying to take off your bra. 
Feeling your soft flesh against his chest, he looked down and saw the white liquid coming from your nipples. “And it’s swollen too,” he smirked before going down and latched his lips on your swollen nipples. You hissed when he twirled his tongue on your extra sensitive nipples due to pregnancy. 
“Mmph!” He shut your mouth with his lips. Atsumu’s hands were busy fondling and massaging your breasts gently. Soft moans elicited from your mouth soon after. Putting his tongue to better use, he licked your nipples and the spilled milk away. His tongue licked every drip of your breast milk. “You’ll be a good mother, hm?” 
“Shut up!” You hissed. Before you could speak another word, Atsumu pulled down your pants. You yelped when he rashly removed them from your legs. 
He eyed you in your underwear. “I’ll keep this as a memory of you,” he said while slowly taking off your underwear. Your face was flushed with embarrassment when your naked body was on display for him. “God,” you mumbled under your breath as he dipped the tip of his tongue on your drenched wet cunt. 
The doctor had warned you about the hormones and the increased sex drive. Well, maybe that’s the reason why you found it so easy to succumb to this devil right here. 
Atsumu lapped your juices, the tip of his tongue digging deeper on your cunt. Using his hands to spread your legs wider, he buried his face deeper on your womanhood. “You know I haven’t touched anyone after you since that day. Because your body was all I could think about every single day,” his voice rambled against your wet pussy. “And Goddamn it, never have I wanted to have your mouth wrapped around my cock so badly.”
You felt the tip of his tongue on your clit, and your back arched whilst pulling his hair. The back of your hand pressing his head deeper on your cunt. “Please, Atsumu,” you whined. 
Atsumu tilted his jaw to the other side, hands tightly gripped on your thighs. Both of his hands held onto your soft flesh as he devoured your taste. You felt he dipped his tongue in deeper until it made tears roll down your cheeks. “God! Tsumu!” You moaned when he sucked on your clit. He wouldn’t stop. His mouth licking and sucking on your clit until you begged him to stop. 
“Come when I told you so,” he gritted through his teeth. Atsumu dived back in your cunt, tongue brushing against your pussy before delving it in your pussy. A prolonged strike of his licks was enough to collect your juices clean. Again, he licked another long strike along your wet folds and stopped on your clit. You felt his breath fanned over your sensitive bundle of nerves. Before you could catch a break, his mouth started sucking on your clit— giving you the orgasm you desired. 
His mouth won’t stop sucking until you pull his hair harder, begging him to give you more and more. “Come for me now,” he said. His tongue licking and circling on your clit, stimulating your orgasm to approach faster. 
Your breath became heavier, your eyes shut closed, and your whole body was burning you alive. Your toes curled whilst bending your knees with Atsumu’s hand straining them from closing. “Fuck,” you let out a staggered moan the moment translucent liquid was released right into Atsumu’s mouth. 
Atsumu crawled back on top of you, brushing the hair that fell on your face. “Are you gonna listen to me or do you want to have my cock buried deep inside you?” He nibbled on your neck, sucking and biting a purple mark on your skin. “Make up your mind, or else I’ll make a choice for you.” 
He heard you went silent. “I guess it’s the latter then.”
Atsumu lifted the hem of his t-shirt over his head, tossing it aside on the ground of his bedroom. His hand grabbing your other breast, kneading it while keeping his mouth on your nipple. “Atsumu,” you grunted, biting on your lower lip to suppress the sinful whimpers. You then felt his lips trailing wet kisses over your lower body, kissing the baby bump before he went below. 
“Sometimes, I wonder why you hate me so much. I’m about to get in your pants, and you even get my child. Do you still hate me despite all of that?” Atsumu asked. He eyed you from below, hands busy spreading your legs apart and kissed the inner of your thighs. 
You let out a soft whimper when he had your skin in between his teeth, biting on your thin skin as if he was marking his territory. “What the hell are you talking about?” you half-yelled at him. Out of other times, he chose to ask you now? Oh, wait. That was the first reason why this happened again. 
“Don’t play dumb with me, or else you won’t be able to walk after this. I won’t hesitate to do that,” Atsumu gripped the soft flesh of your inner thighs, making you yelp in pain as he squeezed them tighter. He needed answers from you, even if it means forcing them out of your mouth. 
You sighed. “I hate you. So fucking much that nothing in this world can ever describe how much I want to see you crumble in front of me. I want the whole world to go against you, so you would beg and beg me for forgiveness,” you spat out. Your heartbeat gradually increasing that you could feel every nerve around your head pulsing hard. How badly you wanted to hit him and yell at him for ruining your life. What did you ever do to him that made him despise you so much? 
Atsumu’s lips quivering, slightly taken aback when you screamed in agony. You were in misery, he could clearly tell. He was the reason behind your jealousy and resentment. “Say you hate me, even if your body tells me otherwise.” 
With a sharp thrust, he slid his aching cock in your pussy. How much he missed the feeling when he was inside of you a few months ago. You gasped because of the sudden pressure, consciously digging your fingernails into his skin. Atsumu panted when your tight walls clamped around his cock, making it harder for him to rock his hips against yours. 
He picked up his pace, slowly rocking his hips against yours. Atsumu felt your body moved along with his. His cock brushing against your g-spot with each thrust. “Say you hate me,” he hissed, panting as he said that in your face. 
Atsumu crashed his lips with yours, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, and you gave in quickly with no time. He kissed you hard, swallowing your breath away. “Say it. I want you to say it now,” he forced. 
You breathed out heavily, the coil building up in your stomach. “I hate you,” you lashed out your pent up frustration towards him. The anger you’ve been holding back ever since high school does not seem to subside when spitting it out in his face. 
“I hate you. I hate you. I hate you,” you repeated it, over and over. A ward against what you really feel. 
Atsumu kissed you even harder. “I hate you,” you murmured in between the kisses, another tear rolled down your cheeks. “I hate you so much that I can’t think of anything else,” you cried. Whether it’s the resentment or the bottled up anger, you weren’t sure what came out just now. 
The kiss turned softer, gentler this time as he cupped your cheeks in both of his hands. Atsumu paused to take a good look at the face he missed ever since both of you left high school. The only time he got to talk to you was when he picked a fight with you. “I hate you too,” his voice hoarse. 
Atsumu tipped back his head when he picked up his pace to fuck you harder. He grabbed the back of your thighs, feeling the still small baby bump of yours resting on his abs. You wrapped your arms and legs around him, letting out another moan. 
You caught his lips with yours, savouring his sweet kisses. Atsumu slammed his hips again, his hands squeezing your ass, and you let out another small cry. You rolled your hips, trying to grind down on his cock. “Atsumu, shit. I’m ah- coming,” you sobbed, sniffling back the tears you had in your eyes . You threw one of your hands to your mouth, clamping it down so any noises wouldn’t leak. 
Atsumu groaned, feeling the summer heat coming back on after the rain stopped. “Fuck. Come for me,” he brought his thumb to your clit, rubbing on your puffy clit that made you raked your fingernails down his back. The scratch made him hissed in pain but still relentlessly fucking his cock into you. You could feel the veins alongside his cock, and it made you sob even harder because of how good you were creaming around his thick cock. 
Your cries filled Atsumu’s ears, and it brought his attention to it. He used his fingers to wipe away your tears before releasing the final thrust and his cum inside you. “Oh- fuck,” his voice hoarse, groaning under his breath before he pulled out.
His cum leaked out of your pussy down to your thighs. Your head felt dizzy after you came down from your high. The drowsiness made you want to throw up. You hurriedly ran to the bathroom and threw up in the toilet bowl. Atsumu was shocked, so he immediately stood by your side and grabbed your hair for you. 
He knew how painful pregnancy can be. His mom never fails to remind him to respect women and their struggles. Right now, he’s reminded of his mom and the disappointment plastered on her face if she found out her son is disrespecting a woman. He screwed up his life and yours, so he needed to fix it nonetheless. 
“You good?” He asked, handing you the tissue for you to wipe your mouth. You nodded lazily, slowly getting up on your knees. Atsumu helped you to get up and led you to the bed again. 
“Wait here. I’ll bring you a glass of water,” he said as he quickly put on his shorts before going out. Atsumu grabbed the glass and poured the water. You took the glass in your hand, downing the water in one gulp. 
“Need any painkillers?” He asked again. 
You shook your head. “Thanks,” you thanked him. By raising the glass, Atsumu knew you were thanking him for the glass of water. He just shrugged it off. 
The closet door was opened, and he looked for any shirts that could fit you. He finally found a jersey from high school. “Wear this,” he said. You just nodded and put on the jersey. 
“I- I’m sorry,” Atsumu started off his sentence. “If you really need my help, just let me know. I don’t care if we hate each other or want to kill each other. I just need you to be okay until everything’s settled. You should let me know about this earlier, so we could discuss it thoroughly.” 
“There you go again, blaming me,” you rolled your eyes with annoyance. 
“What? No! I wasn’t blaming you, idiot. Can we drop this off? This whole beef thing? Please? I am so fucking tired of holding a conversation that ends up with us grabbing each other’s throats,” he breathed out. He really needed to tell Osamu about today. Especially when he found himself surrendering so easily. That is not him. Miya Atsumu never surrenders to anyone. Ever. 
Now he made you feel even worse. “Fine. We’ll talk. Talk as much as you want. What I want right now is…” you trailed off. You never wanted to have him in your life in the first place. But being a single teen mom is not easy either. You’re struggling with the right choices right now. 
Atsumu raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to resume your words. “What is it? Don’t leave me hanging, woman,” he snarled. He was curious about what you wanted, and you trailed off! 
“Why do you hate me so much?” You asked. Throughout high school, he made your life worse than it already is. You never knew what made Atsumu hate you so much. You hated him because he made you suffer without any solid reason. That is plain cruel. 
Atsumu tried to recall the moments he started hating you. He was petty, now that he thinks of it. The words he was about to speak were stuck in his throat. His throat was burning. “Uh, I am not sure either,” his words trailed off. 
You furrowed your eyebrows. “What do you mean you’re not sure? You basically tortured me emotionally, Atsumu. Do you think that was funny?” 
Atsumu sighed. “Yes, it was. Sorry. I wasn’t mature back then.” That was a horrible lie, he admits. 
“This is not going to solve itself, Miya Atsumu. You have to tell me,” you forced him. You tried so hard to maintain your sanity. “Just spit it out.”
“How can I trust you?” Atsumu raised one of his eyebrows at you. He clicked his tongue, crossing his arms to his chest. Not that he doubts you, but he needs to make sure you know how to keep secrets. Mainly it’s something that he never tells a soul other than his twin, Osamu. 
You let out another sigh. “I don’t have that many friends, you know. I am not going to sell your secrets to the press. You aren’t that important in my life anyway,” you slightly chuckled at the last sentence. You were joking and kinda felt guilty about it. 
“Just… hear me out, okay. Don’t laugh!” Atsumu looked into your eyes. You stared into his dark brown eyes, slowly nodding to what he warned you about. 
He breathed out. Atsumu started talking, and you listened attentively. It amazed you that both of you could sit close to each other and not throw hands. Atsumu reminded you about the guy you used to crush on during second grade in high school. It turned out that the guy was his ‘nemesis’ back in middle school. What he said next surprised you.
“What? You liked me?” you asked out loud. “So, you were jealous of him, that's why you bullied me? That’s that? That’s why you made me trip in front of him?” 
Atsumu cleared his throat. “Yeah. That sounds believable coming from your mouth,” he snickered. He let out another deep sigh. “Sorry. He took what was mine, and yeah. I took it out on you instead. Because I knew you were weak, and he couldn’t do anything about it.” 
“You know, I wish I could punch you in the face right now,” you gritted through your teeth. “But, we made a deal earlier, so I couldn’t,” you shrugged your shoulders. “Just why didn’t you tell me sooner? What made it so difficult for you to come clean?”
“Because I think I am unable to express my feelings, and people call me cocky bastard. So, I think that’s the reason why,” Atsumu said truthfully. He felt so naked right now, being so transparent with his emotions. “Sorry again about what happened in high school and at the party.” 
You looked at the wall in front of you. “We can’t rewind time, can we? I’m already pregnant, and yeah, I guess I just have to make it until the end,” you said. What a liar. You are sure you are scared of giving birth. And, the expenses of raising a baby is not cheap either. 
“Well. You’re welcome to stay here if you want. And, if you need money, I can always lend you some. Don’t worry about paying back. You can do that later,” Atsumu said calmly. “About your parents, well, let’s be honest after you give birth. I think there will be fewer consequences.”
You huff. “It is easier said than done, Miya. How am I supposed to avoid them these entire 9 months? They would freak out thinking I’d run away from Japan or something. Do you want to see missing person flyers around?” 
Atsumu went silent. He didn’t think far ahead. His mouth reacts faster than his mind so point proven. “We’ll see how this goes. You don’t have to worry. I can help you from now on,” he assured. “For now, you just stay here until it stops raining. I’ll send you home later.”
Well, it’s time Miya Atsumu finally grows up and starts acting like a responsible adult. He knocked you up so he has to be responsible for it. Even though he has a lot of learning to do. And a lot of nagging from his mother and you too. 
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wttcsms · 20 hours ago
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you know you make my cold heart warm with a touch ; kiyoomi sakusa.
pairing kiyoomi sakusa x f!reader word count 7.1k synopsis how else can kiyoomi show you how close to his heart he keeps you than by fucking into you so deep, you’re pretty sure you can feel him reaching for yours? content contains hurt/comfort, past abusive/toxic relationship (not with any canon characters), clingy & crybaby reader, vaginal fingering, creampie, lots of love declarations, size difference, belly bulge, soft!sakusa <3
You’ve been acting differently lately.
Sakusa’s always been perceptive, especially when it comes to you, but he can’t figure out what exactly went wrong. It starts off with little things, things that he can choose to ignore or brush off easily by chalking it up to you having a bad day or just not being in the mood.
Normally, you’re unlocking the door for him before he can even reach into his pockets to pull out his key. On the instances you’re not, the moment he opens up the door himself, you’re practically sprinting to him, arms wrapping around his body before he can even set his gym bag down, showering his face with kisses and greeting him as if he’s come back from war. Even on the days where you’re sick, you still bundle yourself in fluffy blankets, camping out in the living room, letting out an excited albeit tired “Kiyoomi!” when he makes his way to you.
You barely even greet him when he gets home now. He’s lucky to even get a “oh, hey, Kiyoomi” before you’re returning back to whatever has your attention on your phone screen. He knows it’s probably immature of him, but he kinda misses your overzealous attitude. It’s nice, sometimes, to know that someone likes you enough to miss you and wants to celebrate your return even if you’ve only been gone for a couple of hours.
You’ve always been clingy, and Sakusa’s always been the type of person who doesn’t like people in his personal space. It only takes him a couple of weeks full of longing stares, shy smiles, and him wanting to chase after the scent of your perfume every time you pass him by that makes him realize that it’s not necessarily him not liking people invading his personal space; it’s just that the right person hasn’t ever been by his side before.
He doesn’t care, he realizes, if it’s you. You, going from hesitant to holding his hand to clinging onto his bicep and forearm whenever you two are walking. You, texting him every second you get (there’s a lot of seconds in a day where you’re free), and him using any opportunity he can to FaceTime you.
(He gets a little sad when he’s scrolling through his old texts — really, these are texts from just last week, but the distant behavior you’ve been exhibiting is so far from what he’s used to that it feels like he’s been without his sun for months — and sees that you’re not updating him on your life at a minutely basis. There are no more notifications lighting up his phone screen during his practices, no more texts from [name] 💖 — you added the pink heart; he pretends he’s been too busy to erase it — asking him “are you free to ft?” or “baby i miss u & also look at my nails!!!! i got them to match ur jersey for the game hehe <33333”.)
You would always find some way to be touching him, and even if you’re in separate rooms in the apartment, you would still try to hold a conversation with him despite the walls blocking the flow of it. It’s only been one week, but he’s not sure where this behavior is coming from.
Once you got over your shyness and the tension of being in a new relationship and not wanting to mess it up has completely disappeared, you never had any issues with clinging onto him, practically unashamed at how you always wanted his attention. This behavior would be annoying from anyone else, but it’s you. You, his sweet girl, his cute girl, his perfect girl. The person he wants invading his personal space for the rest of his life, to the point where he’s got a box and a question that’s waiting to be asked.
Usually, you like to suggest for him to take you out for date night. There’s always some new restaurant or club or festival going on, and you seem to always know about them. Tonight, when he asks you if there were any spots you wanted to check out, he’s disappointed but not surprised to hear that you don’t have a preference. Normally, you would talk his ear off in the days leading up to date night, cutely begging him to take you out to whatever spot is trending on social media. Your silence gives him enough answers for the questions he wants to ask.
You’re biting down on your lip as you watch Kiyoomi scroll on his phone. The two of you are in the living room, a rare night in. You hadn’t researched any new date spots because going on social media for you right now is the equivalent of walking into an active minefield with no protective gear. It’s a suicide mission. It’s a death wish. If you feel like crying and throwing up, maybe you would open your phone and click on one of the many articles headlining all the EXCLUSIVE PHOTOS OF MSBY’S SAKUSA COZYING UP WITH SUPERMODEL SAKURA DURING MATCH BREAKS!, but after accidentally stumbling upon the first one, you’ve had enough of MSBY’s Sakusa’s dating speculations to last you a lifetime.
The first night you saw the headline practically screaming at you, curiosity had you in a fucking chokehold. You’ll be fine is what you fooled yourself into believing. Kiyoomi is different.
Besides, stories like these are just clickbait articles that some aspiring journalist looking to make some dinner money will come up with in order to survive. You can’t fault them for wanting to turn something innocent into something wild and completely far off from the truth.
But rumors are rooted in the truth. Something can’t just come from nothing, you know.
You swathed yourself in your comfort blankets, too sad to even go about your day. Not when the photos tell you that maybe Sakusa is cozying up with a supermodel. Not when the article spins a timeline of the potential dating history between him and her. Not when you’re barely mentioned, merely brushed off as Sakusa’s potential ex-girlfriend. (You don’t miss the speculative jab from the author, wondering if there’s a reason why Sakusa doesn’t post you. Even though you already know he’s not the most active person on social media or even that open with his fans about his personal life, it still hurts that your Snapchat memories are filled with nothing but photos and videos of him, and there’s hardly anything including you that he shares online.)
You made a joke one time. Something about how you’re so good at thinking that it only takes a few seconds for you to start overthinking. Overanalyzing. Overdramatizing every minor situation. Over over over ‘cause you’re just overflowing with emotions and feelings, filled with too much to the point where it all spills out, your heart left to bleed out on your sleeves. Everything inside of you is too much for you to handle. Everything about you is too much for anyone to handle.
But for a while, you did a good job in convincing yourself that Kiyoomi Sakusa isn’t like anyone else. He’s definitely not like your ex, the only other person you’ve been with before Kiyoomi. Or maybe, a tiny voice inside your head, the taunting one you haven’t heard from in quite some time, suggests, maybe your ex was right. Maybe all boys will treat you like shit ‘cause you’re not the type of girl worth stressing over.
Toys are only interesting when they’re still shiny and new. Once you see the same tricks performed hundreds of time, it gets boring, and then from there, it’s only a matter of time ‘til it’s replaced with something shiny and new, thrown out to the curb to decay in a landfill with other used up and broken things.
You rationalized, in the beginning of your relationship with Kiyoomi, that you were already a used up, broken toy when he met you. (The way he looks at you, though, makes you forget about those feelings.)
You want to cry your little heart out. You’ve been told by your ex that you’re ugly when you do so, that your little sobs are just pathetic and grating, that it’s stupid of you to cry over shit that doesn’t matter, that he can give you a real reason to cry if you don’t just shut the fuck up. It’s why you rarely ever cry in front of people now — out of fear that maybe it is annoying.
You try to force yourself to get up, to move, to do anything to take your anxious mind off of thoughts about Kiyoomi leaving you for some supermodel, but you can’t. You’re rooted firmly in your little pile of blankets, and all you can do is toss your phone on the floor and burrow yourself deeper into the soft fabric. You’re not quite sleeping when he comes out, so you don’t miss the way Kiyoomi calls out your name when he enters the apartment.
His voice is softer when he repeats your name. You can hear him walking into the bedroom, and even if your eyes are closed, you can still feel his presence when he makes his way to your side of the bed.
You try not to flinch or turn away from him when you feel his cool hand brushing back some of your hair, rubbing your cheekbone with his thumb. It’s easy not to move away when your natural instinct is to lean into his touch. So, you do a good enough job at remaining still and silent, even when he presses a kiss to your forehead, saying something under his breath that you can’t quite hear.
He leaves the room, and you hear the distinct shut of the front door, the locks turning into place.
Kiyoomi did not return home ‘til later that evening. By the time he does, you’re glad all your tears have dried.
You know the signs of when someone is cheating on you. (Although, your ex-boyfriend had convinced you for a while that it’s not cheating if he doesn’t feel the same emotional connection with the other girls that he does with you. You’re not sure why you bought into all his stories.) How many times did your ex assume you were sleeping before leaving the house to fuck someone else?
It doesn’t help that when you’re doing the laundry, you can smell the faint traces of women’s perfume lingering on his clothes. Perfume that you don’t wear. You almost feel sick to your stomach when the sickly sweet scent hits your nose.
(It’s not the scent making you feel this way; it’s the fact that history has a bad habit of repeating itself, and you’re pairing it with your bad habit of always choosing the worst men to give yourself to.)
You at least have experience this time. Your ex has told you time and time again that he doesn’t like the fact that you’re so overbearing, always wanting to know if he’s ate yet or when he’s coming home. He didn’t like that you always wanted to touch him (unless, of course, he was horny). He didn’t like the fact that you always had to bring up your stupid feelings in every conservation, how you were always under the impression that you two needed to talk things out every time there was a “problem”. He spat the word out at you, making you feel like any time you felt upset about his actions didn’t stem from any rational thoughts but rather your paranoid brain playing tricks on you. It took you a long time to realize that all he was doing was spoonfeeding (more like forcefully shoving down) you nothing but lies used to manipulate you into staying with him.
Kiyoomi’s always been very open, though. For someone who doesn’t talk as much as others, everything he says is what he means. Communicative. He’s communicative. He’s communicative and caring and he listens to you — like really listens to you, down to the most miniscule details about your day you choose to share with him. He treats you so kindly and gently, always giving in to whatever crazy scheme you’re coming up with. He talks about you to his friends — you know this because he actually introduced them to you. Being with Kiyoomi is like nothing you’ve ever experienced before.
Up until now, that is.
Now, the unspoken distance between the two of you, the hesitancy to talk to him, the feeling that everything good is about to be snatched away from your greedy hands — now it’s all coming back, slamming into you like a semi truck, hitting you right where it hurts. There’s this familiar feeling washing over you, like you’re tiptoeing, trying to avoid broken glass lest you start bleeding, making a mess, giving him a reason to yell. He’s never yelled at you before. In all the two years you two have been together, Kiyoomi has never taken a harsh tone with you nor has he raised his voice or his hand. He has you beat, both in height and muscle mass, and never has he made you cower in fear from being smaller than him.
You can feel your bottom lip trembling at the thought of him hurting you. He doesn’t seem like the type who would, but you also never would have thought he would ever cheat on you, and look where the two of you are now: sitting on the same couch with enough space between the two of you to be deemed Covid guideline approved, both of you not saying a word.
He’s getting up now, though. There’s a sudden urge to grab at his sleeve, yank him back, beg him not to leave you, to stay for just a second longer — all you need is just a second to convince him that you promise to do a better job in making him happy — and you almost do. The only thing stopping you is your past experience.
Your ex never did like your clingy nature.
You cringe at all the times you’ve made yourself at home by Kiyoomi’s side. You remember how just last week, you’ve been constantly texting him tiny updates about your day. (He always individually replies to each text, but now you’re certain he did it out of obligation.) You did it. You finally did it. You revealed your true nature to the most perfect man in existence, therefore pushing him away from you. You could’ve kept yourself in check! You could’ve… You could’ve watered yourself down, bottled up all those annoying tendencies of yours, keep them hidden away so he wouldn’t be running for the hills.
It’s why you’ve been giving him his space. Isn’t this what he wanted? Kiyoomi’s a man; he definitely wouldn’t want to sit down and listen to you explain how hurt you feel about those dating scandals, articles that were written entirely out of his control. You know he probably doesn’t enjoy the way you’re always so grabby with him, constantly needing to have your greedy hands interlocked with his own, or clutching his arm, or even just holding onto the fabric of his long sleeve shirts. How pathetic and annoying he must think you are.
You can’t help it; you’re crying now. Pathetic little whimpers leave from in between your trembling lips until they morph into something truly hideous and grating — sobs that leave your poor shoulders shaking, vision blurred from all the tears. In an instance, Kiyoomi is kneeling down on the carpet, making himself eye level with you, large hands gently rubbing at your shaking shoulders.
“Don’t.” You turn away from him, letting his hands slip from your body. “If y-you’re going to leave, then just fucking do it, Kiyoomi.”
You don’t like being mean. Maybe it’s because your feelings get hurt so easily or maybe it’s because you’ve got an empathetic heart two times too big for your body or maybe it’s because you’ve been treated so horribly in the past, that the idea of putting anyone through the same pain you’ve felt for years is just horrifying. Maybe it’s all of the fucking above.
You can’t breathe, you can hardly say anything coherent now (not like your jumbled mess of thoughts are helpful), and you’re pushing away the only person you want to hang onto because you’ve never been taught on how to get someone to stay.
(The trick is, you’re not supposed to need to convince the right person to stay.
The fact of the matter is, Kiyoomi Sakusa does not need any convincing to stay.)
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
What’s that supposed to mean? You remember the way your ex spat out the same exact words to you, making you want to sink into the floor and never be heard from again. He was always so good at belittling you, making you feel like maybe you’re turning nothing into something like you always do.
Like you must be doing right now.
It’s all coming back to you now, until you’re curled up on the couch, crying like the world’s gonna end (because if Kiyoomi is truly leaving you, it might as well be). Past and present and the ever so dismal future are blending into the worst movie montage ever in your mind, and you don’t know what to do. You can’t say what’s on your mind because if you do, you’re so sure he’s going to be packing his bags and running for the fucking hills — or worse yet, running to that supermodel who can give him the world while all you give him are migraines. Even if you wanted to talk, it’s not like there’s any way for you to be taken seriously when all your would-be sentences are going to be interrupted with an annoying sob.
You know what it means! You want to shout at him.
Instead, all you do is let out a garbled up sentence that sounds an awful lot like “leave me alone!”.
He’s good at respecting boundaries. He knows when to cross over the line, and when to stay behind it. He sees the caution tape, and he backs up, watching from a respectful distance. It stems from the fact that he’s the type of person who values his own personal space being respected, and he’s never found it hard to keep to himself before. Before you.
He swallows hard. He wants to protest. He wants to reassure you. Most of all, he wants to hold you in his arms and wipe away your tears and get you to tell him what’s causing you all this pain and how can he make it better because he just wants you to feel better. He knows he’s not the boss of you, but for once, he just wants to tell you to trust him and don’t push him away. But if you want him gone, he’ll do it.
He nods, even though he’s not even sure if you’re paying attention to him. He’s slowly getting up, grabbing his phone and the keys. The idea of sleeping on Atsumu’s couch for the night is enough to make him want to break out into hives. The idea that you want him gone is still pushed to the forefront of his mind though. Did he do something wrong? He wants to turn around. He’s barely taken two steps and he wants to turn around, get back down on his knees, and beg you to tell him where he went wrong and how he can fix this mess.
You’ve always been very forthcoming about your wants and needs, though. Almost as if you don’t want to leave room for misinterpretation. The shout of “leave me alone” from you is enough for any person, really, to get the picture.
You wonder if it’s obvious when you cry harder. Of course he’s fucking leaving. You only screamed at him to do so, and Kiyoomi isn’t the type to question you when you seem serious enough about something. It’s the same situation you’ve found yourself in all the time in your previous relationship.
No. It can’t be. You can’t have a repeat of your last relationship.
You get up from the couch, making your way to Kiyoomi who’s already at the front door, but he stands still for a second, turning his head back to watch you practically fall on him. He wraps his arm around your body because that’s what he thinks his body’s been designed to do: hold you, protect you, catch you when you fall. (Everything about him has been adjusted for you: his feet are meant for making his way to you, his mouth is meant to be pressed up against yours, his heart only beats to the rhythm of the syllables of your name…)
“Pl-please don’t.” You cry out. “I’m sorry, ‘Yoomi. Please don’t go to her! I learned my lesson, I pr-promise!” Maybe he’ll think you’re pathetic. Maybe he’s always thought that. But when you have everything to lose, you resort to desperate measures. Maybe hanging onto him will only force him to pull away even harder, but you want to have him in your hands for just a second longer. You’re being selfish and greedy with him, but you can’t find too much fault in yourself (ha! — isn’t that a first?). When you leave someone out in the cold, even a warm touch can set them aflame. You’ve gotten too used to all those sweet, warm feelings you get with him. It would’ve been better if he treated you badly; it would have made him leaving you hurt a little less.
“What?” His eyebrows are furrowed together, but he doesn’t want to push you away to take a closer look at your face. You’re burrowing yourself into him, hands clutching at the front of his sports jacket, and he’s got both arms wrapped around you like he’s scared you’re going to disappear at any second now. “Who is ‘her’? What lesson am I—”
You think he’s cheating.
You think he’s cheating. You think he’s cruel, and a cheater, and a liar, and that he’s some asshole who’s gonna fuck someone else as a means to teach you a lesson.
He wants to get angry. Not at you. He can’t be mad at you. At your ex. The one you always try your hardest not to talk about. The one who’s the reason why you think Kiyoomi’s going to leave you. His hold on you only tightens.
“No, baby.” He tries his hardest to sound gentle, to watch the tone of his voice. You’re sensitive, that he knows. “No, I would never cheat on you.” And then he thinks, how many times have you heard this line?
You’re not crying nearly as hard, but you still refuse to look up at him, and he refuses to push himself back to take a proper look at you.
“C’mon, baby, talk to me. Please.” He’s not the type of person who begs, but he’s pleading with you now. “You can yell at me, scream at me, but just tell me what you’re thinkin’ about. I’ll tell you everything you want, you just have to ask me.”
Eventually, you do pull a tiny fraction away from him, just so you can look up at him. “Are you cheating on me?” The moment the question leaves your mouth, you want to run away and cover your ears so you don’t hear the answer.
The hurt expression on his face is too real for any actor to impersonate.
“You are the only person I want to be with, [Name].” It’s not the conviction that he says the words with that has you believing him. It’s the way he’s looking at you. You’ve never been looked at like this before.
No, you realize. Kiyoomi’s always looked at you like this.
“Your clothes smelled like perfume. There are literally dozens of articles saying you’re in a relationship with a supermodel, and you were going to walk out—”
“I was asking Sakura what women liked.” Most people would roll their eyes at you right now. They would not be stroking your cheek or speaking to you so kindly, as if you didn’t just accuse them of being a cheater. “I wanted to get you an anniversary gift, and she brought perfume samples from the company she does commercials for. I’ve got a bottle wrapped up, hiding in my sock drawer for you that smells exactly like it, if you don’t believe me.” But he’s frowning now. “I never knew you cared about those articles.”
You don’t. Because every other time it comes up, you make a comment about the latest headline featuring your boyfriend’s name, and every time, he follows it up with a rant about how annoying journalists can be and how speculative fans only serve to instigate the drama some more. You think his rants are funny; it’s the only time he ever talks as much as you do, and there’s so much genuine dislike for the articles that you know you have nothing to worry about.
“I really don’t. It’s just…”
“You don’t have to explain.”
“…you don’t want me to?” Your voice sounds like you’re on the verge of tears again.
“I love hearing you talk to me, baby, but you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want me to know, y’know that?”
“My ex said that no guy wants to hear about my bullshit feelings.”
“I’m going to kick his ass one day.” Kiyoomi mutters this in your ear as he leans down even further to give you a quick, reassuring kiss on your lips.
“So violent, ‘Yoomi.” For the first time this week, you find yourself smiling as he kisses your nose and then your whole entire face, from your tear streaked cheeks to the edge of your jaw. You’ve always been leaning towards being a pacifist, but the idea of Kiyoomi willing to get his knuckles bloody for you has you smiling even wider. Maybe some violence is a bit justifiable.
“I want to hear everything about you.” He scoops you up, carrying you bridal style, letting you wrap your arms around his neck to hang on to him. “I want to know everything there is to know about you.”
“You already do.” You admit. It’s proven in the five hours FaceTime calls, the hundreds of texts you spam him with, the way you give him a play-by-play of your whole entire day the entire time you two are cooking dinner together. He knows that bitch you soft blocked on your Instagram, your favorite meals, the names and faces of all your friends to the point where he feels like they could be his by extension.
He’s heading straight for the bedroom, gently kicking open the door that was never fully shut to begin with.
“Really? Let’s do a little quiz then.” He sets you on the bed before slotting his body over yours, arms resting on either side of you, thoroughly caging you in. You don’t feel trapped, not in the slightest. There’s a sort of warm comfort in knowing that Kiyoomi’s always gonna be your shield from the world.
“Favorite color?” You let out a giggle as you feel his lips press against your neck, the curls of his hair tickling your jaw as he sucks on your soft skin, eager to leave a mark on you.
“Highlighter yellow. At least, that’s what you told me before.” You can feel the way his lips move when they work to form the words he says. He’s going to leave an array of hickeys on your neck, you just know it.
You like highlighter yellow; not because it’s the most aesthetically pleasing color in the world — far from it, to be honest — but it’s the color of the track jacket he was wearing when you first met him.
You curl your fingers in his hair, sinking further into the fluff of the comforter set. “Correct. That’s one point for you, ‘Yoomi.”
“Did the salon ever get that color of yours you like so much back in stock?” He pretends like he’s trying to remember the color name, but it’s clear it’s already been resting on the tip of his tongue, what with the fluidity he manages to say “OPI’s Dulce De Lece”. You whined about having to pick a different shade of pink since they ran out of your signature color. You did this over FaceTime a week ago and only made one complaining comment about it before moving on. You didn’t expect him to remember.
He did, though, and for some reason, that means the absolute world to you.
(How could you ever doubt him?)
“Bonus points for you, ‘Yoomi.” You hum, running your fingers through his hair. “Don’t overthink this one question, okay?” As if. There’s only one room for an intense overthinker in this relationship, and she’s currently being smothered by her boyfriend, feeling completely overwhelmed with all the affection he’s giving her and enjoying every second of it. “Who do I love the most?”
He pauses his ministrations before pulling away from your neck, sitting up straight.
“Do I get a hint?” He rests a hand on your hip, running his hand up and down the side of your body.
“He’s got his hands all over me, and he’s been sucking on my neck like he’s a character from Twilight.” You smile at him, and he thinks his heart could combust from being so overworked at such a sweet, simple gesture from you.
“Sounds like a pervert.”
“He’s actually a really great guy, ‘specially when you get to know him.”
“Can’t be that great.”
“Well, I think he’s the best.”
“Oh, yeah?” He’s lifting up your shirt (it’s actually his; you’re a bit of a thief, aren’t you?). “What makes him ‘the best’?”
“He’s six four.” You lift your body up just the slightest so it’s easier for him to remove the shirt from your body. He should’ve known you weren’t wearing a bra underneath, and all he can see covering you is a pair of pink panties.
“Okay, that sounds pretty impressive. Don’t tell me you’re just using him for his body, though.”
“I’m not. You wanna know somethin’ crazy? I fell in love with him before I even focused too hard on his body.”
“Hmm. Now that’s definitely crazy.” He’s unzipping his jacket, tossing it the ground, his shirt following soon after.
“He’s the sweetest person I’ve ever met in my life. You should see the way he treats me.” You take a hand to trace his abs, looking up at him and admiring the view. He must’ve existed in a past life; there’s no other explanation for why he fits the description of Adonis. “I don’t think there’s anyone else out there for me… Not that it matters, since I’m never letting him go any time soon.” You tap your lips to let him know what you want, and you meet him halfway for the kiss, too excited to have him near you to wait for him.
“Good. I don’t plan on letting you go, either.” He seals his statement with a kiss, only this time, it’s deeper and burns with the passion underlying his words. You’re pressed against the sheets that smell like him, and he’s lifting your hips for you, tugging at your panties.
Kiyoomi knows everything about you. He knows you down to your elementary school experiences, how you can’t sleep at night unless he’s got his arms wrapped around you, how he can always count on you to send him videos of you doing your daily fit check because you love to share everything about your life with him.
He also knows that the best way to get you prepped to take his cock is for him to properly stretch you out first. He’s kissing you as his hand finds itself in between your legs, rubbing your folds, smearing your slick all over.
Kiyoomi’s hands are always so nice. You like to fiddle with his fingers, trace the veins on his hands, and rub the calluses on his palms. His hands are especially nice whenever his fingers are knuckles deep in your wet cunt, his middle and ring finger slowly thrusting in and out of you, as if he’s scared going faster will hurt you.
You know the truth, though. Kiyoomi likes to start off slow because he knows that at your core, you’re a ridiculously easy person to make a mess of. It hasn’t even been a minute yet, and you’re already thrusting up your hips, tiny whines trying to plead with him to do it faster, to do it deeper. Your manicured hands — paid for by none other than himself — grab at his wrist, but your strength isn’t enough to control his own movements, and then he realizes that you’re not trying to control his pace.
You just want to be touching him in any way you can.
“‘Yoomi, please.” You look up at him with the best puppy dog eyes you can manage, your bottom lip jutting out just the slightest. “I need you so bad.”
“I know, baby, but you know I have to prep you first.” He coos, feeling the way you only get wetter with every thrust of his fingers. His eyes darken when he looks down and sees what a mess you’re making, sees what a mess you are. Hips rutting up, cheeks flushed, desperate and whiny all for him — just for him — and all it took to get you like this was just two fingers. They scissor from within you, stretching against your warm walls, and no matter how long his fingers are, they still aren’t hitting deep enough to satiate his greedy girl. You’re so wet that he’s sure he can hear the distinct sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of you, even over your cute little moans.
“I can t-take it now, Kiyoomi.” You whine at your boyfriend, hand still circling around his wrist, tugging at it, trying to get him to remove his fingers and replace them with his cock.
No, you can’t. It happens like this every time. The fact of the matter is that unless he’s made you cum at least twice before even thinking about fucking you with his cock, you can’t take him. Your poor hole is just a bit too tiny to handle his length, and it doesn’t matter that you’re so wet that your juices are forming a little wet spot on the sheets. It doesn’t matter that he’s spent some time stretching you out with his fingers, relishing in your whines and the way your slick seems to travel from his fingers down to his wrists.
Before he can gently remind you that, no, baby, you can’t, you’re already babbling out how you’re sure you can take him.
“Please, Omi, I missed you so much.”
Your eyes are wide, and you look as if you’re about to cry at the concept of him wanting to take his time with you. He spoils you, you know. Even when he shouldn’t. Even when he knows better. But a man’s will can only be so strong. You can’t be mad at him for giving in to your pleas. He knows his cock, at least, has no protests for what he’s about to do.
You’re practically salivating at the sight of him and his cock — long and hard with the tip flushed red, sticky with pre.
You can’t help but let out a moan, a blissful smile on your face as you feel him gently prod your entrance with just the tip. Most of the time, he doesn’t mean for his actions to be teasing; he just can’t bring himself to do anything without the proper precautions being put in place first. You can tell he’s still hesitant to fuck you when he swears up and down that his precious girl can’t handle him, but for once in your life, you’re fine — more than fine, really — with being treated without care.
Just like your Kiyoomi knows you so well, you know him to the same extent. You know that all it takes for his strong, almost noble resolve, is for you to look up at him so sweetly, so adoringly, and to pretty please ask him to fuck your needy cunt.
“Omi, I can’t wait anymore.” You spread your legs even wider, proud to show off your little hole clenching around nothing.
“Fuck.” He hisses under his breath as his hands grip onto your hips, holding you in place as forces his way into your tight cunt.
“Fuck.” He swears again, the feeling of your warm walls clenching around his cock nearly overwhelming him. He’s rutting his hips against yours, short strokes that won’t satisfy for long, but it’s enough for the two of you now. He’s moving without consciously even thinking about it, too lost in just how good you feel for him. “You were made for me.”
It has to be true. It has to be true because never in your life has someone ever managed to find spots inside of you that can have you cumming in a matter of minutes. It has to be true because Kiyoomi’s never felt like he’s right where he needs to be ‘til the first time he ever fucked you. It has to be true because there’s no pain recognition when he starts thrusting into you deeper. His grip should be bruising, but all it does is keep you anchored in reality.
You’re surrounded by sheets that smell like the safest place you’ve ever known, and you’re getting treated like a fucking princess. You feel adored, you feel happy, you feel loved, you feel blissfully fucked out, especially when his next thrust is even sharper, hitting a spot within you that has you squealing out his name.
“Can you feel it, sweetheart?” His jaw is tense, eyes unsure of whether to focus on the cute faces you make as he splits you apart with his dick or the distinct bulge of a cock too big for your poor body to handle. “Can you feel how deep I’m fucking you?”
“Y-yeah. Always fuck me s’good!” You try to look down, staring at the imprint of his cock poking through your belly with hearts in your eyes. You tap on one of his hands, pointing to your stomach, and he lets out a breathless chuckle.
“Shit — you always feel so fuckin’ good.” He answers your unspoken request for him to press down on the bulge. His large palm rests on your belly, and you make a move to place your hand over his.
“I love you, ‘Yoomi. I love you so, so much. I’ll never love anyone else! I—” Your constant streams of little love confessions gets interrupted with a moan. It’s high pitched, grating on the ears, but neither of you care. Your hips are bucking up, legs lifted and trying to close the space as you cum.
He’s so good to you. Omi is always so, so good to you. He lets you ride out your orgasm, cooing words of praise, telling you how you’re such a perfect princess and that you’re so pretty when you’re cumming, sweetheart. He rubs at your clit, the added stimulation only prolonging your pleasure, and the euphoria from your high leaves your vision hazy and your overthinking brain too fucked out to think about anything but how much you absolutely love him.
Only when he’s certain that you’re finished does he resume his original backbreaking thrusts. You can’t tell if it’s a consequence of just cumming or not, but you think he’s going even harder now. You’re staring at him with nothing but heart eyes and a dazed smile, content to let him use your cunt freely. His curls are sticking to his forehead that’s slick with just the slightest bit of sweat. His cheeks are flushed a dark pink, and his brows are furrowed, and the sight is as pretty as it is pornographic.
“I’m close, baby, I’m close.” He mutters, leaning down to kiss you on your lips. You’re still too tired to properly reciprocate, but you try your best. It’s sloppy and not at all romantic, but you don’t care. You just like being connected with him, in any way possible. He’s not going to last for much longer; not with the way you’re clamping down on him, not with the way you look at him like he personally hung up the constellations in the sky in your honor, not with the way you look so vulnerable and tiny underneath him.
“Cum for me, Omi. Pretty please? I wanna— I need your cum.” You know just the right things to say to him.
He presses into you so deeply that his hips are against yours. The concept of personal space doesn’t exist between the two of you, not now, not ever. He kisses you as he cums, groaning against your mouth as he spills inside of you. The warmth of him is overwhelming, and you still can’t get enough. You’re greedy, you know it, but Kiyoomi doesn’t mind in the slightest.
His forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing hard, both of you so close that the air you exhale is his to inhale.
“I love you, you know that?” His voice is breathless, chest rising and falling, cock softening inside of you. He pulls out, the move practiced and precise as he tries to make sure his cum still stays in you. He rubs at your hip gently, reassuringly.
Omi is the only thing you’re capable of saying. You stretch out your arms, and all he does is give you a tired smile. He wants to bathe you first, wants to take care of you and clean you up so the two of you don’t have to fall asleep while coated in sweat and cum.
But he gives in to you (because when does he not?). He lays down beside you, pulling you closer to his body to the point where you’re practically on top of him, snuggled against his bare chest, face perfectly angled to hide in the crook of his neck.
“I’ll love you forever, ‘Yoomi.” You yawn out, clinging to him as your eyelids droop.
Yeah? He sure hopes so. If not, he does have a backup plan; the jeweler who he bought the ring from said it would make you love him forever, too.
241 notes · View notes
k0shii · 2 days ago
Text
LET ME LOVE YOU k. tsukishima
Self conscious, worried reader, angst-fluff-smut, soft dom tsukishima, oral (f), lovey dovey tsukki, makeout session, use of princess, and baby, overstimulation, Caring and soft Tsukki
Summary: Kei has been a little more busy these days and it feels like he doesn’t have enough time for you. So to apologize what better way than to spoil the hell out of you?
4 times
Thats how many times you called Tsukishima, usually he’d be back home by nine or latest 9:40 it was eleven o’clock. You were worried sick, excuses didn’t cut it anymore. Was he ignoring you? Did something happen? Yamaguchi would know- Yamaguchi! You quickly grabbed your phone and dialed his number, thankful Kei introduced you to his childhood friend.
“Hey y/n! I’m actually glad you called, i think something bothering tsukki.” He greeted, “Wait what? W-whats wrong is he hurt?” You asked worriedly, “N-no! But i think he had a bad day..and he keeps getting phone calls and denying them.” Your heart sunk, so he was ignoring you. “Y/n?” You held back tears trying to speak. “J-just make sure he gets home soon. Have a good night.” Hanging up you let your tears flow, normally this wouldn’t have been enough to make you tear up if you hadn’t had a fight the other day.
Red eyed and miserable you turned off the lights around the apartment, and put the food you had made that night for Kei away in the fridge. You were about to head to your shared bedroom when your eyes started to water again. You felt pathetic. You couldn’t sleep without him, so instead you changed into your pjs and headed into the living room to watch whatever was on to distract your mind.
Eventually falling asleep around 11:30 when kei came in 6 minutes later, “Sorry im late I-“ He saw your figure sitting up straight on the couch, with tear stained cheeks. While the tv played his favorite tv show. Guilt immediately pinged his heart, walking over to your sleeping figure he shook you awake softly. “H-hey y/n wake up.” Fluttering your eyes open you felt somewhat okay knowing that he was home, but still pissed that he ignored your calls.
Without saying anything you got up wiping your face, and walked towards the guest bedroom. “Where are you-” “I’m glad that your home, but I can’t sleep in the same bed as you right now.” You stated, before tearfully closing the door behind you. “Dammit.” Kei scolded himself, he fucked up one too many times. You’d have fights before but you would always sleep in the bed with him, but for you to do this he must’ve really hurt you.
Not knowing what to do he just went to go take a shower, after washing up he hesitated to knock on the guest door. He knew that you were awake, because he was awake. “Its me..I-I know ive been a complete ass to you these past few days. I should’ve never brung up my ex or ignore all your calls. I don’t deserve your love, if im being honest i don’t deserve you. Yet by some fate I got to meet the one person in the world I would give my life for if i had to.”
He stated, his voice starting to waver. “I won’t blame you if you left right now, ive treated you like ass. But..by some miracle you stay, j-just know i only have eyes for you I-I love you more than anybody else. So from now on I’ll treat you right, i swear.” He finishes, a couple tears escaping his eyes. “The bed is yours if you want it I know its more comfortable than that thing, I’ll be sleeping on the couch to give you space g-goodnight.”
He was about to leave for the living room when he heard the door swing open and two small arms wrap around his torso. “ D-don’t do that to me again..o-okay?” You ask shakily, seeling kei turn around you let go before feeling him pull you gently back into a hug. “I won’t, I promise baby. I’m so sorry, I’m s-so sorry.” He mutters, burrying his face in the crook of your neck, holding you close to his body. “Forgive me?”
Your knew he was being sincere, smiling glassy eyes you nodded. “I forgive you Kei.” Letting out a small laugh he peppered your neck jn kisses, “Ready for bed?” He asked gently, standing upright cupping your cheek. You hummed in response, snuggling into the palm of his hand. “Can I carry you?” Blushing slightly you nodded, allowing Kei to slip an arm around your back and one under your legs.
Pressing a kiss to you forehead, he smiled. “I love you so much, I hope you know.” He whispered against your lips lovingly, before pressing a long kiss to them as he walked you into bedroom. “I love you too kei.” You said softly, kissing his cheek.” Laying you down on your side of the bed, he kissed your lips again, this time more passionate.
You found your hand on the back of his neck, pushing him gently down into the kiss. Pulling back he smiled, before pressing another kiss to your lips slipping his tongue past your slips before saying, “I know its late but let me do atleast this.” Pulling back from the kiss he kissed you down your neck. Earning a few gasp and moans from you. His hands slid up the side of your shirt, looking at you for approval you nodded. Pulling the shirt up above your head. He unclasped your strapless bra and being to litter kisses on your breast, “have I ever told you how cute tits you have?” You blushed shaking your head, “Well i am now.” He muttered sucking a mound softly, but hard enough to leave a mark. “Ngh kei..” You moaned.
Feeling him tend to the other, this time sucking the nipple gently. “Ahh-” He smiled, pressing a kiss to the nipple before trailing kisses down your stomach and leads to your sex. “This time, I want you to cum atleast twice. Its not because i want to overstimulate you, but because I want you to feel so good. Okay?” You nodded. He smirked a little before saying, “I need words baby.” You smiled seeing he was still that teasing boy you fell inlove with, “Yes, Kei.”
“Good, now just relax princess.” He stood up, pulling off your night shorts to reveal laced panties. “Cute as always~” He smirked, before kneeling down and pressing a kiss to your clothed cunt. “P-please dont tease..” You whined, “Don’t worry i got you baby.” He cooed, moving your panties to the side he licked your folds slowly. Making you arch your back, “F-fuck baby mm.” He chuckled, before spreading your pussy lips apart and sucking on your sensitive bud.
Making your toes curl, and your fist bawl up as you gripped the sheets beneath you. “Ahh fuck kei..” You already felt your high approaching, had it been that long sense he touched you like this? Staring into your eyes he groaned feeling your clit throb in his mouth, “Close already? I’ve barely touched you~” You shook in embarrassment as you covered your face with your arm, “Cmon now princess, don’t hide from me. I wanna see all your cute expressions when you cum for me.” He stated, removing your arm from your face.
You gripped the blondes hair as you felt your high crash onto your body like a tidle wave. “O-oh fuck! Kei please please-“ You writhed in pleasure as you came, feeling yourself on cloud nine as you felt Kei drink up all your essence. “That’s it cum f’me.” You almost screamed as you felt his tongue being thrusted into your aching hole, “Too much, fuck baby!” Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you felt your second high approach.
You screamed the middle blockers make like a mantra as your body went limp, “Good girl.” He grinned, his lips soaked from your slick. Using the bottom of his shirt he wired his lips, revealing his abs for a few seconds.
“Let’s get you cleaned up hm?” You nodded weakly, as he found a nearby rag and cleaned up your thighs. “Baby..” You called, hearing kei hum in response. “You didn’t get to-” “Hey, tonight was about you. Besides that can happen another day.” He explained, climbing into bed. Pulling your small frame close to him, “Hey Kei..” He looked down at you, “I love you~” You said in a sing song voice, making the blondes heart warm.
His eyes watered as he pressed a kiss to your nose, “ I really don’t deserve you.” Smiling softly you cupped his cheek kissing his lips, “By the way I love you more~” He replied softly.
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maitaro · 2 days ago
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Playboy 22' - The mini event masterlist.
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A/N : Reaching a new milestone, I have planned this small event - which isn't really an event tbh. The main theme is Playboy (the magazine) and I will write a few nsfw fics inspired by it <3. Ah also, this is strictly a Haikyū!! thingie + I'll only write for the guys below since they're the ones I'm the most comfortable with as for now. ;) @oikawas-milk-bread 👀
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Tōru Oikawa x fem! Reader - nsfw.
Being a top athlete offers tons of possibilities, among posing for the infamous sexy and controversial magazine Playboy. How could Oikawa say no, especially when the famous singer Y/N will be his photoshoot partner?
Rintarō Suna x fem! Reader - nsfw.
Having a model as his girlfriend, Suna is used to see her in sexy poses, but he wasn't aware she would be on the new Playboy cover. Should he punish her for it ? Or show her how much the photographs affected him ?
Atsumu Miya x fem! Reader - nsfw.
Besides being an amazing volleyball player, Atsumu shows off his body often, thanks to his contract with the Playboy magazine. He isn't the best teacher, but he could always try to initiate the new recruits, especially a hottie like you. However, those lessons definitely need to stay private and secret. <3
Tetsurō Kurō x fem! Reader - nsfw.
He's a business man, of course. He's very strict about monthly wages, but being the owner of the Playboy magazine definitely gives Testurō many advantages, one of them being to pay his favourite bunny with his cock.
Osamu Miya x fem! Reader - nsfw.
Osamu isn't a horny guy, but he still is a man with needs. So how is he supposed to react when his favourite Playboy model is coming in his restaurant to eat onigiris on a Tuesday night ? Is it him or is she... flirting with him?
Yūji Terushima x fem! Reader - nsfw.
Nothing could go wrong when the famous pornstar Yūji Terushima offers you, the cutest Playboy bunny, a photoshoot with him..., right ? Especially when it has to take place in his studios..., right ?
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onigiri-mia · 2 days ago
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akaashi x reader, 1.9k
today is his wedding day. akaashi has never felt happiness like this before.
a/n: repost because i'm finally back in the tags! hope u enjoy :')
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Akaashi had been close to pacing a hole into the reception hall floor when Bokuto found him. His tux was already on, a boutonniere already clipped to his lapel, and the furrow between his eyebrows was ferocious. 
“There you are,” he sighed, relieved and exasperated. Akaashi would smile if he wasn’t 100% sure that it would just make Bokuto hit him. “What the hell are you doing here?” 
Akaashi shrugged, pivoted to a stop. He was near the door to the altar, since it was almost time to go but he was trying to buy more time and he didn’t have the stomach to be around anyone else right now. He didn’t want to be at the front without you. “I’m… pacing, I guess.” 
Bokuto pursed his lips. He had that look on his face that was reminiscent of their high school days, when he wasn’t sure if he had to be a team captain or a friend. Akaashi was grateful for the deliberation he took nonetheless. “Cold feet?” 
Akaashi shook his head so fast iit nearly blurred his vision. The reaction inside him was almost violent, almost vehement. “No, no, it’s not that.” There wasn’t a world, a universe, or a reality where he wouldn’t want to marry the hell out of you. Everyone around him knew it. Bokuto knew it too, because he nodded like the answer was obvious, and crossed the distance between them in quick strides. 
“What is it then? You wouldn’t go AWOL just before the ceremony for nothing.” 
“It’s just,” Akaashi started, and then stopped. He raised a hand to gesture vaguely at his head, and then pointed it in the direction of the doors, where a faint hubbub came in even though they were closed shut. “Lots of people. It’s weird. It freaked me out a little to see so many people.” 
Bokuto huffed a little, the sound good-natured. “Well, you both have a good number of friends between you. Family, too.” 
“I know, I guess it’s just—” he looked to the ceiling, to his hands, to the walls around him. Akaashi had helped come up with the seating plan. He chose the centrepieces, the colours of the napkins. The little cards that rested on the plates were covered in your handwriting. “It’s overwhelming, I think. Everything used to be just, like, stuff in planners and 3D renders in our laptops. Now it’s actually happening.” 
“I get that,” Bokuto nodded. They had ten minutes before the wedding started. “But it’s good, right? That it’s all actually happening. That you’re gonna get married, and that we’re all here to celebrate you.”
“It is,” Akaashi agreed. “I guess I just— it’s silly, really. I didn’t think about the amount of people that were gonna be here.” 
“Akaashi, you helped come up with the guest list.” 
“I know, I know! But it was like, all abstract you know? Like they were names on an Excel sheet. Honestly, I don’t think there were any concrete faces in my head besides like, the two of us, our families, and you. We were seriously considering just leaving the guest list at that.” He fiddled a little with the promise ring still on his finger. The band was plain silver, with a small blue sapphire in the middle; identical to the one on your finger, sitting underneath your engagement ring. You had given it to each other when you both graduated high school and wanted something solid. Something to say that despite the distance, the change of the seasons, that nothing would change. That you were his constant, and him yours. 
“The blue reminds me of your eyes,” you’d said as you placed it on his finger. “It’s cliche as shit, but it means it’s ours. That you’ll always be with me, no matter what. And don’t lie, I know you’re a hopeless romantic anyway, right?” 
Akaashi had only laughed. He’d been too happy to let the teasing get to him. He’d nodded, unrepentant, and kissed you hard after returning the favour and slipping the ring on your own finger. 
“But in the end, we knew we wanted it to be something we could share,” Akaashi continued. “It’d make her so happy to see so many people celebrating us all at once. I wanted to give that to her.” 
“And she wanted to give that to you too,” Bokuto pointed out. He gave Akaashi a look, something sly and conspiratorial in the arch of his smile. “She was whining to me last week over the phone that she was so close to just asking you to elope. But Keiji deserves something special, and who am I to stand in the way of that?”
Akaashi laughed, sudden and full-bodied and echoing. God, he thought, the fondness in his chest was heavy it could suffocate, so heavy that it was freeing. God, she’s ridiculous.
“God, she’s ridiculous,” he said, watched as Bokuto’s eyes turned knowing. He couldn’t blame him either— the words sounded too much like I love you. 
“You’re both ridiculous,” Bokuto said, nodding his head as if the matter was final. “Now come on, we have like five minutes before you get hitched, and I gotta make sure she’s okay too.” 
“Does she know I went missing?” Akaashi asked. The side doors suddenly opened, giving him a view of the altar, the scent of the flowers placed next to it drifting towards him. 
“I think she knows you went off somewhere. She knows you better than you think,” Bokuto replied. “Thought she’d be nervous about it, honestly. But nah, she just shrugged. He needs some quiet, probably. Have I ever told you that you two are insufferable?” 
Akaashi laughed. “Yes Bokuto-san. Many times.”
“Well, it’s worth repeating. You’re both insufferable and terrible and I’m begrudgingly very happy that you’ve found love.” 
“Thanks. I think.” 
“You’re welcome. 
.
.
.
You both decided early on that you wanted a procession, but you didn’t want the ceremony to start with Akaashi already at the altar, while you walked down to meet him. It felt weird. 
“Feels a little bit like I’m meeting you somewhere and then taking this step, when really this is something we’re both walking into. This is something we both chose, and something we should arrive at together, you know?” You had said when you were both working out the details with your organisers, and Akaashi had agreed. 
Your sister had suggested then that you both just walk down the aisle, and you had taken one look at each other and decided she was a genius, so you went with it. 
Akaashi walked first, trying not to blush too hard at the raucous cheering of his friends that rose above the more appropriate clapping. His dad was walking with him, and when they both got to the altar, he had to fight to keep his smile from trembling. 
“I’m so happy for you, son.” his dad said, had been saying as they walked. Over and over like a spell. “You’re going to make each other the happiest you’ll ever be. You already do.” 
“We already do,” Akaashi repeated, and then leaned his head back to sniff. He wasn’t going to crack first. You would never let him hear the end of it. “We really do.” 
Your bridesmaids went next— some close friends, a few cousins, family. Your sister made up the rear, the last to walk down before you and your father. She flashed Akaashi a grin so wide that he couldn’t help but mirror it. Both of your families had been nothing short of giddy as he met them in line for the procession. Everyone kept shaking his shoulders, you guys are getting married! You’re finally getting married! and all he could do was smile in return and gently swat them off before his coat became wrinkled. 
But it warmed him straight through, to see them be so happy for him. Happy for you. Happy for the both of you. Even without meeting their eyes, Akaashi knew they were all bursting with excitement. Especially Bokuto, who was practically vibrating. It added to the joy that was already humming inside of him like a livewire, all alive and crackling like a fireworks display that just kept going. 
The music kicked up again, an arrangement of the Nutcracker pas de feux for cello and harp, and Akaashi breathed in, big and slow and deliberate, through his mouth. He bounced a little on his feet. His heart was a paper airplane let loose in his chest, banging against bone and sinew and muscle, and Akaashi could hear each impacting thud in his ear, a drumbeat so loud he wondered how no one else could hear it. He felt Bokuto’s hand on the small of his back, his father’s on his shoulder. He chewed on his lip, felt the grin threatening to take over his whole face coming in the twitch of his cheeks. He sucked in more air. 
The cheers rang anew, and Akaashi looked towards the doors. He didn’t even know when he looked away. Your sister stepped into position right by the altar, catching eyes with Bokuto with twin grins on their faces, and—
Oh. Oh. 
You came into view. 
Akaashi felt every last bit of oxygen leave him. 
There you were. 
Akaashi was in love. Oh, man, he was in love. He’d been in love for a very long time. 
You were clad in a beautiful gown, a simple bodice that hugged you in the right places and the skirt flowing down just right, with a small train trailing behind. You looked incandescent. You looked like all of his dreams coming true, as you walked down slowly holding your father’s arm. You were smiling like he was, wide and almost goofy and a little tear-stricken. 
God, he thought, and he breathed, and he felt his heart go even faster. God. 
The walk felt unreasonably long this time, but soon enough you were in front of him, and Akaashi didn’t want to look at anything else now that you were here. He didn’t think he even could, he was sure of it. 
“Hi,” you said, breathless and so achingly gorgeous it made the next three thumps in Akaashi’s chest feel painful. “Keiji, hi.” 
“Hi,” he said back, in love and stupid with it. “My love, hi.” 
Your father handed you off to him, crushing Akaashi into a tight hug and shaking hands with his own dad before the two of them left to sit next to their wives. Akaashi barely looked away from you throughout it, and you could only look at him too. 
God, he thought, kept thinking. 
The officiant began, something about love and union and the beauty of today. Akaashi let the words wash over him like cherry blossom petals, eyes on you, only ever on you, the most beautiful thing he had ever had the fortune of seeing; you, who somehow loved him just as much as he loved you. 
God, he thought. You squeezed his hand, sending a ripcurrent through him and leaving him all clean. A vessel for nothing but warmth and raw feeling. 
I love her, he thought. I will love her forever. 
Later, when you’d kissed, truly and profoundly joined under law and faith and whatever else, you would whisper, lips still on his:
“God,” you’d say and Akaashi would catch the word in his mouth like it would be enough to keep him alive. “God, I’m going to love you forever.” 
And then, Akaashi would hold you tighter, kiss you harder. The applause would ring louder, but it wouldn’t touch him. 
Here, it was quiet. 
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vvviled · 2 days ago
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Thinking about next door neighbor Atsumu who, when he moved in, scurried around the hallway all Sunday with unlabeled boxes in hand, foul words falling from his mouth as he cursed under his breath, earning disapproving head shakes from your fellow neighbors. Who, at the end of the day, sat on the front porch with a scowl on his face, angrily munching away on a bowl of instant ramen, exhausted and entirely sapped of energy. Even weeks later, you could spot unopened boxes still sitting in his corridor as you stole glances through his open door when he left his apartment to go to the gym.
Next door neighbor Atsumu, who regularly forgets his laundry in the washing machine and profusely thanks you when you go to remind him of it. Who‘s clothes are always wrinkly, apart from the skin-hugging pieces that cling to his build oh so nicely, because you’re sure he doesn‘t even own a flat iron.
Who cleans his windows every once in a while when his mother reminds him, but never the windowsill because “the rain will clean it perfectly fine.” (untrue)
Who’s always drenching wet and drags dirt into the stairway whenever it rains because he never brings an umbrella and thinks the doormat is just for decoration.
Who greets you in the hallway with a tired but contented smile the morning after celebrating a big win, voice hoarse from passionate yells, but the good kind of hoarse that resonates in your soul and has you flustered for no particular reason.
Who looks so unrightfully and effortlessly good even when he just got home from his morning run, hair disheveled and a sheen of sweat glistening on his skin. Who‘s muscles bulge so deliciously when he‘s carrying his bike up the stairs that you can‘t tear your eyes off him, although you know you should not gawk like that.
Who‘s your fearless and heroic saviour whenever there‘s a spider terrorizing you, graciously accepting a homecooked dinner as compensation for his “hard work.”
Who you always come to to have him open your jars despite you knowing that the trick is to let hot water run over the lid. Who knows that you know because he’s seen you open jars on your own before but who also prides himself in knowing that he’s the one you go to for help.
Who’s looking through the peephole and stands behind the door a little longer when he sees you to avoid looking too eager, but who’s grin that’s plastered on his face before he’s even fully opened the door yet is a dead giveaway.
Who holds open the door for you even when you’re not quite close to it yet and grins at your awkward little half-jog as you try to not keep him waiting for too long, and does it on purpose, too.
Who gives you a spare key to his apartment “in case he locks himself out,” and because “it’s cheaper than calling the key service,” but secretly relishes in this sense of domesticity.
Who invites you to dinner at Onigiri Miya, raving about the food with pride swelling in his chest, because that‘s my annoying brother. Who has you try all sorts of flavors and remembers your favorites to bring you a batch every once in a while, suggesting you eat with him when you insist on doing something to repay the favor.
Sighing thinking about sweet, sweet neighbor Atsumu who I wish lived near me but my neighbor only sucks at recycling and plays accordion at ungodly hours (badly)
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tsukina · 2 days ago
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#20 — MAHALO
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THE AFTER HOURS — SMAU
SYNOPSIS: The MSBY team have two months to perfect their forms before the season starts. As options fly by, they all seem to take up the offer of visiting a beach training camp to adjust to harder conditions. The outing also attracts the eyes of other athletes, like the Schweiden Adlers. When forced to work hand in hand to master the sport, what will they do when they realize they have to deal with their biggest obstacle, Y/N, for two months straight?
previous — series masterlist — next
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walking into the home felt like a dream. the flowers that once laid in the bed out front now bloomed into a different color entirely, and the tree that used to have a tire swing connected was now much larger, yet bare. upon entering a wave of memories washed your brain, moments like when you were standing by the front door with your prom date, or nights where you softly closed the door to not wake your parents as you snuck out.
as you admired the old picture frames from youre childhood, a voice snuck up behind you, “It’s been a while since you’ve been here, hasn’t it?”
“Yeah,” turning to look at your father, you observed your surroundings more, “it still looks and smells the same though.”
“I made us your favorite,” his hand softly laid on your shoulder as he gestured towards the kitchen, “I hope you haven’t ate yet.”
with a small smile, you followed him to the other room, “No, I didn’t.”
“Good.”
reaching the island, your eyes followed your hands as they grabbed the corners of the counter, “Look, I know you’re probably upset with-“
“I’m sorry.”
“What?” looking up with widened eyes, your father abandoned the nearly finished dish he briefly focused on, coming closer to you.
“I’m sorry I didn’t hear you out. I know this isn’t an excuse, but things seemed fine until they weren’t. I had no idea what was happening outside of my vision.” sincerity filled his voice as he apologized, the slight raise of his brows had your heart drop. although he wasn’t a man to admit his wrongs often, mainly because he always did what he thought was right, it filled you with nothing but optimism as your previous doubts made you believe it would have gone much worse.
“I hid a lot of it,” you admitted, taking partial of the blame, “but I still wish you’d talk to me about everything before demoting me completely.”
he shook his head, silently telling you to not blame yourself, “I should have spoken to you about it, and I didn’t realize it was a personal matter than work.”
“I don’t plan on going back.”
“That was something I figured,” his expression was reassuring, something you haven’t seen in so long due to your relationship being held as a career, “so if you decide to not come back then I’ll have to search for a new regional manager.”
once again, you were left stunned by his vague descriptors, “Regional manager?”
“I’ve fired Sako,” he focused his attention back on the counter, mincing certain vegetables as a side, “and he probably won’t be working at other companies like ours ever again.”
“How come?” taking a seat at the table, you watched as he poured his love in his cooking.
“You fail to remember my connections, no?”
“I just,” sighing, you felt your hand run through your hair in pity, “I didn’t expect you to sort of, blacklist him.”
“He refused to tell me the truth,” anger seeped through his words, as if his thoughts were inexorable, “and for that it’s unforgivable.”
“I’m assuming you learned the truth through Mika?”
“Yes, those messages really opened my eyes.”
“I see.”
the conversation paused for a moment, as if he was trying to figure out what to say. the situation didn’t seem nearly as bad as either of you thought, specifically because you both were foreseeing the other side being more irritable, but it was not the case. he brought his thoughts into alignment, continuing his task and the conversation.
“You’re your own person, yn,” he set the used utensils in the sink, while washing both of his hands, “and no one will ever tell you what to do with your life.”
“Dad, I-“
“No, you were right before,” grabbing a dish towel, he dried his hands before approaching your side, “I did this to your mother and drove her away. I refuse to let it happen to us.”
you laid your hand on his forearm tenderly, wanting to express how that would have never occurred, “I never planned on leaving you, you’ve done so much for me.”
“And yet I continuously lost your respect throughout time,” his eye contact didn’t waver, “and I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”
standing up, without hesitation you wrapped your arms around his waist lovingly, “But things will always work out for us, right?”
“Right,” he closed his eyes with endearment, “I love you.”
“I love you too, dad.”
one of his hands rested on your head as the other grazed your arm, “Never let a man tell you how to live your life,” his words were barely above a whisper, “Promise me you’ll find someone who will accept you no matter what, and let you be free. Not that you need anyone, though.”
“I promise,” he pulled away with a smile, before turning and grabbing the simmered-down dinner, “besides, I’ve already met someone.”
“Oh,” he glanced back with a teasing tone, “a day out of engagement and youve already moved on?”
“I moved on way before then,” giggling, you propped a leg on top the other, “but it was with the help of them.”
“Well, whoever they are,” he walked over to you, setting the plate before you, giving you a small kiss on the top of your head, “If they make you happy, I give them my blessing.”
“Now eat up, ku’ualoha.”
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fun facts:
— yns father is considering training mika in the place of regional manager, under yns suggestion
— mahalo in english is a way to show gratitude, equal to saying thank you
A/N: the routes will be posted separately, and it may be a few days!! very sorry about that, just haven’t been that confident in my writing the past few days and i really want to make sure they’re the best !!
TAGLIST: CLOSED
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tinygumi · a day ago
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— midnight musings
oikawa’s tired.
you can tell he is. his head is resting heavily against his hand which you’re sure has started to ache by now. his breaths have long since slowed, each one growing deeper. and his eyelids are drooping with every blink, waterline getting glossier as the night passes. you think, somewhat sickeningly, that he still looks perfect.
“get some rest, tooru,” you murmur through the line, tone laced with care and affection, “you had a rough practice. we can talk another time - tomorrow, even.”
but oikawa whines at your words, upset you had interrupted your own story to dote on him and his head shakes from side to side as a pout settles on his lips. you try to ignore how it makes you want to reach through the tiny screen of your phone and kiss him stupid.
“but we haven’t finished talking about your day!” he complains, stubborn as ever.
“we’ll have a million more days to talk about,” you grin softly and the promise hidden behind your response makes oikawa’s heart thrum in his chest. because there’s nothing more he wants than you by his side for the rest of time. and, truly, what was one day out of forever?
but having already spoken about his day and the volleyball practice that had left his very bones aching, oikawa’s adamant to hear every little detail of your own. he needs you to know that he cares too. (of course you do.)
so after a hard stare, you let out a sigh and ask with far too much hope in your voice, “what if you go to sleep and i keep going? then we both win.”
the giggles bubble up from oikawa’s chest until they’re loud and hearty laughs. you wonder if he’s delirious, he just thinks you’re funny. and still, you find yourself swelling with pride that you could pull out such a sound from your boyfriend.
“you think that’ll work? if i try my best to listen whilst asleep,” he hums amusedly as the chuckles fade away into a lazy, sleepy grin that sits contently on his lips.
and under oikawa’s gaze, fond and tired and so completely focused on you, the words fly, “i think you can do anything.”
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igumie · 23 hours ago
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Lyric prank with Oikawa, Atsumu, Kageyama and Kuroo
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info : fluff / crack / smau
warning : like, one suggestive line in Kuroo’s, “babe” is used
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Kuroo
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Oikawa
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Atsumu
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Kageyama
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Reblogs are appreciated :)
tag list (open) : @hajiluvr ; @duckymcdoorknob ; @rae-main ; @k-ryuuguji ; @cosmonettica ; @kodzukvn ; @escapenightmare ; @gojoussunglasses ; @jahnvi-d ; @chifemi ; @xiaos-boywife ; @p-ol ; @uxavity ; @sukxma ; @crazycookies73307 ; @missrown ; @kodzukoi ; @iwaso ; @boo-kugo ; @hello0i ; @neermozhi ; @oyasumiares ; @chiizfuyu ; @hirugummies ; @kiyunas ; @lilacveiledsea ; @darlingimawitch ; @https-celestial-blessing ; @coffeeauthorvibing
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chimielie · 19 hours ago
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kiyoomi + exes to enemies to lovers but he’s the one chasing ME as he should and we butt heads and fight until someone gets enough of our shit and lock us up together in a room hehe (fluff or angst..? choose your own adventure!)
"This is childish!" You call, shoving the door with your shoulder. "Are you seriously just going to leave us here?"
"They're already gone," says Kiyoomi from where he's seated himself on the floor, back against the wall, wrists crossed as he stretches his arms out. "No one's going to answer."
"I thought it was worth a shot," you retort, pulling out your phone and pacing back and forth—as much as you can in the tiny space, anyway. "But that's very on brand for you, isn't it?"
"And what's that supposed to mean?" You used to think that daring, condescending voice was hot, the way he always paired it with an arched brow and a tilt of his head. You shiver a little, in disgust, you insist to yourself.
"Oh, you know, Sakusa." It's impossible to say that you don't enjoy the way he flinches, his shoulders rising up to his ears when you call him by his family name. "You didn't bother trying to fight for our two year relationship, why would you try to fight this stupid prank?"
"You can't say I didn't fight for our relationship," Kiyoomi snaps back. "You're the one who keeps rejecting me, even though I said I was sorry—"
"You broke up with me!" You shout over him, surprising even yourself with your volume. "You broke up with me over something so trivial it shouldn't have been worth even a day's argument, and you think you can apologize and pretend it never happened?"
"I said sorry many times," the man on the floor says stiffly. "You didn't listen."
"I hate you," you say fruitlessly. A sob wells up in your throat and you sit down, rather heavily, on the floor. "I hate you. I hate you. I hate you."
You cry into your hands for a few minutes more, until a featherweight settles on your knee. Through watery eyes, you see: Kiyoomi's handkerchief, a soothing gray with a blue border. You don't bother to thank him for it as you dab at your eyes, rolling them back into your head so you don't have to see his judgmental stare.
"Do you really hate me so much?" He breaks the silence with a question, his voice muted, almost ashamed. You look over at him and are surprised at what you see. His own eyes are rimmed with red, his pale skin flushed with color. His trained posture is slumped and downtrodden.
"No," you choke on teary laughter, the truth escaping you without permission. "I don't think so, you—you—Kiyoomi. You broke my heart, that's all."
"I want to fix it," he says, and you wish his hands weren't as comforting as they are when he leans over to take both your hands in his. "Show me what I can do."
"You can't," you wish he would understand. You wish he weren't the stubborn, stubborn man you fell in love with. He says your name, and you fall right into his slate-dark eyes, bottomless pools of hopeful—hopeless—emotion.
"One word from you will silence me on the subject forever," Kiyoomi promises, confesses, begs. "Let me love you again. I'll do it right this time."
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mekiza · 10 hours ago
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baby steps. - bokuto experiences his first saturday morning ritual.
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- pairing: kotaro bokuto x female reader. - genre: post time-skip, established relationship, parenthood, fluff. - warnings: none. - word count: 500. - a/n: part of the oh my daddy collab hosted by @mrskenmakozume.
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The door creaked, and Bokuto opened his eyes.
The little girl who had opened the door had her stuffed animal in one hand and a pillow in the other. Bokudo didn't need to ask her anything to know what she wanted. It was apparently a little ritual she had with her mother every Saturday morning but until today he had never had the chance to see it. Or to participate.
He was about to sit up to give her enough room to climb into the bed and go nestle against you, but she stopped next to him. "Can I come with you?" she asked in a whisper.
Bokuto's mouth opened but no sound came out, and he didn't trust himself to answer anything coherent anyway, not when he was quite literally melting. The little girl had never asked to be near him, even on the sofa she preferred the safety of her mother's arms, which he could understand, it had only been a few months since he had moved in the apartment.
He lifted the corner of the blanket and nodded.
A sweet smile lit up her face and she carefully put her little pillow and her stuffed animal next to Bokuto who helped her up on the bed so that she wouldn't hurt herself or lose her balance. She lay down, face turned towards the young man. "Can you stroke my cheek, please Kou? Mom does it to make me fall asleep."
And what was he supposed to do? Say no? He was not a monster. "Of course, whatever you want, sunshine." he answered in a voice he wanted soft. He slid his fingertips over the cheek of the little girl who closed her eyes with a soft sigh.
If he weren't so scared to keep her from going back to sleep and waking you up, he sure would have cried. Because for the first time since he met your daughter, he finally felt like he was moving forward. He felt warm, happy.
He didn't know how long he spent watching her sleep. It was your breath against his neck that snapped him out of his thoughts, and he smiled when a hand reached for his.
"How does it feel?" you asked, voice full of sleep.
He had so many things to say, but he was not sure he could find enough words to express them, so he just smiled and squeezed your hand in his. "I understand why you don't want to miss a single Saturday morning."
You chuckled before kissing the back of his neck. "She has been asking me for a few Saturdays when you would be here so she could sleep with you. She was very happy last night when I told her you didn't have to go practice this morning."
"Really?" he saked in a slightly shaky voice.
If he heard one more thing he was really going to cry. "I'll make sure to be there more often."
"Very good idea."
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antisocia1-bean · 2 days ago
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this is your reminder that this a male/gnc reader blog. no pronouns/fem aligned(she/her , she/they) can and will be blocked. DO NOT LIKE OR REBLOG THIS POST
honestly the thought of tying your favorite anime boy down to the bed post has been running though my head constantly.
like imagine you just kneeling over him stroking him over and over, not stopping until you are satisfied. doesn’t matter if he’s over sensitive, if he’s got tears streaming down his face, his hips not knowing to jerk towards or away from your hand. he’s begging you to stop but you know how much he loves the pain mixed with pleasure.
plus “stop” or “too much” aren’t his safe words ;)
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wttcsms · a day ago
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domesticity with suna is both of you sleeping through the alarm, resulting in the two of you waking up to each other with wide eyes and exclamations of holy shit, we’re late!. it’s you trying to simultaneously fix your hair and brush your teeth, and you glance up at your reflection in the mirror, only to see a bleary eyed suna behind you, giving you a goofy grin. it’s you trying to speak with your toothbrush in your mouth, asking him what he’s doing, and he just smiles and kisses you on the forehead, muttering something that sounds like yer cute. it’s him laughing at you on the rare instances where you drive him around. he’s taller than you, so it makes sense that his seat is pushed farther from the wheel, and he records you as you push the driver’s seat closer to the wheel, ignoring your cries for him to shut up and leave me alone. it’s pulling up to the drive thru and as you place your order through the speaker, he’s tickling you, trying to distract you, and there’s cameras, yknow. the employees can definitely see y’all, and he hits the right spot that has you almost screeching into the speaker, and you’re so embarrassed right now, you don’t even want to pull up. it’s getting tiktoks sent to you when he’s in between sets at the gym or about to start a game. it’s him still wearing the silly beaded friendship bracelet you made for him when you two were in high school. (he only takes it off during games, and that’s because it’s against regulations). it’s him going on do not disturb, but the only calls and texts allowed to go through are from you. it’s you making him a sentimentalist.
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is-this-a-fish-market · 2 days ago
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listen. kuroo maybe cringe. but he is not cringe enough to call you kitten. ever.
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plushyfluffy · 12 hours ago
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Puppies And Doggos
Pairings: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Chubby Female Reader
Warning(s): Jealous Ushijima
Note(s): DoInu means Dog and Inu combined and Inu means “dog” in Japanese.
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Waiting for Ushijima is already a normal occurrence for you. Thankfully the head coach, Washijo-sensei is nice enough to let you watch the practice whenever you need to wait for your stoic boyfriend.
You thought that the old man would be overprotective to the ace but surprisingly he treated you nicely, the reason?
“Since you and Ushijima got together the boy became much more focused and determined than ever before.”
Was all he said and focused on the court once more. Making you smiled, you motivated him that much?
They finished their practice for today early so you both decided to went to the new opened dog café.
“Are you sure you want to go with me?” Ushijima nodded at your question.
You smiled as you both hold hands while walking to the said café.
When you both arrived, you two are immediately greeted by different types of dogs and puppies.
“Welcome to the DoInu Café. What can I help you with today?”
A male around your age greeted you as you said your order and also Ushijima’s order.
“Well that will take for like 20 minutes, please choose your seat and the dogs and pups will flood you soon enough.”
You and Ushijima went to the one in the corner and almost immediately you were surrounded by the cutest creatures in the world.
“Oh my gosh you guys are sooo cute!” You squeal as Ushijima just watched you.
Something was burning inside him. You never looked at him like that.
You hugged one of the doggies and you got a one big lick. You giggled as you snuggle your nose to the dogs. Emerged by the cute big and little creatures you didn’t noticed your boyfriend glaring at all the dogs and puppies surrounding you. Making the dogs and pups scared and won’t come to him.
“Haha I see your cute girlfriend really like them huh?”
An elderly woman on her 90s approach Ushijima.
“Many couples who went here the girlfriend ones are the one who was captivated by these cute ones.”
The elderly woman picked a small pup and licked her nose.
“But don’t worry as far as I can see, you are a one lucky guy.”
Ushijima looked at the elderly woman with a stoic glare making her giggled.
“I have a knack at telling who is loyal or not in a relationship.”
The elderly woman put the pup back down and left making Ushijima look at you again, and one of the little dogs went to your head and won’t come down without whining.
You looked at Ushijima and smiled.
“Aren’t they cute?” You hold up one of the doggos and turn it in front of him.
“You are way more cuter.” Was all he said and the food came, making some of the dogs leave but the fluttered feeling you have didn’t leave with the doggos.
When you guys left the café, it seems Ushijima was reliefed.
“Why didn’t you hold one of the puppies? They were so cute!” You pouted but Ushijima only grabbed your pudgy hands to his.
“I don’t like it. They just keep hogging all your attention and I don’t like it.” He furrowed his eyebrows, making a frustrated face.
“Are you jealous..?” You asked him, not sure if it’s appropriate to ask.
He tilted his head and kissed your nose. “Maybe I am.” The side of his lips move upwards and you just zoned out making him chuckled with his deep voice and just softly dragged you to your home.
Meanwhile the volleyball team that was following you both, are taking some pictures, I mean who wouldn’t? Their captain are making faces they didn’t know he could make?
But little did they know Tendou already leaked the info to Ushijima, and the said guy is already thinking what kind of punishment he will give them.
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kaminarili · 3 hours ago
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𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄
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“i don’t care what you’re after, as long as i’m the one.”
“i don’t care why you’re leaving, you’ll miss me when you’re gone.”
he knew that no distance could separate you guys.
no matter the time zone, you guys take every opportunity to talk to each other. it’s 2 AM where you’re at? coffee can help. you have work? one day off won’t hurt. you miss his hugs? a facetime call will do for now.
you understood that his absence was important. he had talent. talent that needed to be seen, that needed to grow. what kind of partner would you be to halt him from that?
his dreams were your dreams.
you never listened to the rumors of him cheating. the bogusness never phased you guys. because there was trust.
you knew he loved you. if he didn’t love you, he wouldn’t have been in tears when he broke the news. if he didn’t love you, he wouldn’t have offered to stay with you. if he didn’t love you, he wouldn’t have thought of sacrificing his dreams.
you didn’t care if he was thousands of miles away. he was yours.
“take all the time you need love. i’ll keep cheering you on.”
atsumu, iwaizumi, HINATA, kageyama, ushijima, yaku, OIKAWA, tendou
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𝐂𝐎𝐏𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐
𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐏𝐘 𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓.
𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝!
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h-shibas · 3 hours ago
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𝒮𝐻𝒪𝑅𝒯 ~ 𝒮𝒦𝐼𝑅𝒯𝒮 ~ 𝒮𝒪𝒞𝐼𝐸𝒯𝒴
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haikyuu!! characters reactions to you wearing a short skirt
includes: kageyama tobio + tsukishima kei + iwaizumi hajime + miya atsumu
genre: smut (minors + ageless blogs dni!! you’ll be blocked)
warnings: less smutty and more suggestive, possessiveness, boys being handsy, some degradation from tsuki
{tokyo revengers version}
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kageyama tobio
kags never did like going to parties but unfortunately he got dragged to them sometimes. at least you’d be there too. little did kageyama know that once you arrived you’d be the cutest and shortest skirt he’s ever seen. immediately he’s blushing as you approach him. “something the matter tobio?” you asked, faking innocence. you knew exactly what you were doing when you picked this outfit. stubborn, kageyama insists he’s fine. “oh really? so you don’t want to find somewhere a little more private to talk?” you smirked in reply. just like that he’s switching his tune, letting you drag him off away from the rest of the party.
tsukishima kei
tsuki didn’t mind all that much when you visited him at work. what he did mind was you trying to tease him. as soon as you showed up in that damn mini skirt he knew you were up to know good. what pisses him off even more is that several of the museums guests turned to stare at you. forgetting about his work entirely, tsuki grabs your wrist. “you brat. what do you think you’re wearing?” kei growls in your ear. you try so hard not to act excited, having hoped for this result. instead you try to claim you have no idea what he’s talking about. “oh yeah? you wanna act like a slut? let me take you to my office so i can treat you like one”.
iwaizumi hajime
you had texted iwaizumi to tell him that you’d meet him at the gym so you two could go on a date after his work out. what he didn’t expect was for you to show up in that particular outfit. your skirt takes him aback for a minute and it didn’t fail to make a few of the guys at the gym stare. iwa doesn’t actually have an issue with the clothes you chose to wear. to be blunt you can wear whatever you want because he can fight. shooting anyone who’s eyes laid on you a little too long a dangerous glare, iwaizumi would pull you close to give you a kiss. “look so cute today, baby. wear that just for me?”. “mhm all for you haji”.
miya atsumu
atsumu loves it when you come to see him at the jackels practice in one of your hot short skirts. it fuels his ego when his teammates stop what they’re doing to stare. pausing his sets, atsumu approaches you with a smug grin on his cheeks. “are ya tryin’ to distract me, baby?” atsumu asks, wrapping one muscly arm around you as his other hand creeps up your skirt. “you know i can’t get anything done with ya lookin’ like that”. you shamelessly inform him that that’s exactly the point before atsumu leans down to kiss you, just so everyone in the room can see that you’re his.
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tags: @crybabylisa / @jahnvi-d / @little-miss-chaoss / @xspideyboyx / @manjiroarchiviste / @nnmesis / @simp-lauren / @inu1gf / @captainkjones / @kennyb0y / @sisnot / @portfolio-of-dreams / @dejwrites / @iwaizumisbicep / @dessceased / @aces-high / @p-antomime / @sugusshi / @wakasasucker / @whosarlet / @widepipepaladiknight / @levylovegood / @awkwardaardvarkforever / @fangirlsarah16 / @lilacveiledsea / @nekoriots / @sunarin136 / @bubs-world / @thathoneybee3 / @satosuguslut / @sleepy3 / @little-nightowl / @10mqryu / @mikeys-gf / @momoewn / @lovemegood / @amaejiki / @cham0mil3-and-h0n3y / @jiminjamms / @downtown-roponggi / @sftbunnyy
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2022 © h-shibas — do not repost or translate my work. likes, reblogs, and comments are welcome
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