Did The Air Just Get Hotter?

Have you heard of cupcake cosmos? 🧁🌸

SEMI, SUGAWARA, osamu, IWAIZUMI, sakusa, ARAN, USHIJIMA, tsukishima, konoha, KAGEYAMA, kiyoko, KITA, KYOTANI, aone, saeko

ingo’s path of solitude

i hope patroclus and achilles are juggling figs and going swimming together in the afterlife

Local senior always down to party

Visible Mending Guide

  tough as nails ᵕ̈       boyfie!msby boys       x nail tech!gn reader ˎˊ˗

⋮⋮ ˒ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𖥻 ⿻ : when you want ⋮⋮  to practice some designs ⋮⋮  and they volunteer them- ⋮⋮  selves as your test dummy !

📋 content     ♡ # 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 🐮     ♡ # 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴 🥛     ♡ # 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘴 🥛     ♡ # ~2.5𝘬 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴

🧸 directory  ‹ ✩  like what you read ? check out more of my blog !  •ᴗ•

💬 kuroppiii  ─ “ ik that ' s not really the context of the saying in the title but i couldn ' t think of anything else ! nail pics as with all my other header pics are from pinterest <3 also lmk if you want to see more characters for this prompt bc highkey i loveee looking through nail designs lol ”

︴hinata shōyō ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘° 

this is not this man's first time around some nail polish

natsu used to paint his nails all the time, so he’s so down!

big color inspo from the colors of a classic blue and yellow mikasa volleyball because of his love for the sport (obvi)

howeverrr switching out the yellow for a bit more of an orange hue to go with his hair <3

also!!! some tropical floral designs as an homage to his time in brazil

a super fun vibe for a bright and go-lucky guy :)

when you first take his hand in yours, the tips of his ears start to redden a little bit

"hey shō are your ears alright–?" [you]

"your hands are so soft." [hinata]

"okay, shō." [you] (totally not fighting back a smile)

he's held your hand countless times but for some reason this–you holding his hand so gently and focusing in on it as you start prepping his nail beds–feels so much more intimate

seeing your face as you're so focused on him and his hands makes him blush lowk but good thing you're looking down and can't see how flustered he obviously is

like for someone so talkative, he's silent and almost as attentive as you the whole time and he's not even the one doing the work

you also notice he holds his breath every time you make the nail polish make contact with his nails until you finally lift back up CUTIEEE

“love, you know you can breathe, right?” [you]

“i don’t want to mess you up though! you’re doing so great by the way, babe.” [hinata]

cups your face when his nails are finally set and dry and you can see his eyes dart between your facial features and his nails contrasting against your skin and his smile gets bigger in real time

then he gives you a biggg kiss as a thank you for your hard work

definitely goes to every one of his teammates in the msby locker room his next practice to show them the nails

on tvs, cellphones, laptops and countless other kinds of screens everywhere: the camera following the msby jackals' game whips around to land their sights on hinata shōyō.

ten seconds remain on the clock. the jackals are behind their opponents by the most miniscule handful of points. in a last-ditch effort, atsumu's in place, and in a matter of seconds hinata is already high in the air.

the ball is met with a collision from the redhead's hand and quickly surpasses any of the opposition's lines of defense. an abrasive buzzer blares throughout the area and the msby jackals all start to jump onto one another with screams and yells and high fives in celebration.

"another excellent shot by hinata! what a way for the jackals to clutch this game folks!" a commentator excitedly blabbers.

"let's take another look at that one, shall we?" another accompanying commentator beckons.

time slows on screen during the instant replay–from the moment hinata gets in front of the net, to the moment his feet leave the ground, and especially as his arm is reeled back moments before the winning shot.

the camera takes the liberty of zooming in on hinata’s hand then. it captures the precise moment when his purest love and energy for volleyball surges through his body. the unseen electricity has ricocheted throughout him to finally trail up to his fingertips, adorned with colors that showcase the blend of his identity with the same ball his skin almost adoringly caresses for a second in the eyes on the slow-mo cam footage.

blue and yellow, blue and orange side-by-side in front of thousands and millions of eyes to witness as the ninja shōyō’s manicured hand follows through and pushes that volleyball past the net to bring his team to victory.

︴sakusa kiyoomi ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘° 

as babygirl as sakusa kiyoomi is, black’s just really his vibe i think

not on like some emo shit but the black would go really well with not only his hair but his iconic beauty marks above his eye

speaking of his hair, the cyber tribal chrome kind of sitch kinda alludes to his curls :0

i mean to the rest of the world he’s this stoic and serious guy all the time

but they don't see how he looks at you while you paint the finer details on his nails

or the subtle and soft dopey smile he’s got on as he asks you in lovestruck whispers about your technique, how work's going, what materials you use, etc.

"and... what's this for now?" [sakusa]

"it's to make sure your nails stay nice and strong for whenever you hit your incredible spikes, omi." [you]

"oh, that's definitely important. wouldn't want to skip that." [sakusa] (before you laugh at his little joke and his heart skips a beat and he gives you a quick kiss on the top of your head as you continue to work)

once the nails are finished, he goes to look at them with his fingers clawed–boyishly characteristic of a dude who's never gotten his nails done like this before

you can't help but laugh and he asks what's wrong

"what do you mean i'm looking at them weird?" [sakusa]

"your hands look like when you posed with the msby jackal mascot that one time." [you]

"how else am i supposed to look at them?" [sakusa]

you demonstrate how people normally check out their nails at the salon

and then it delves into a mini hand modeling lesson and many, many, giggles between the two of you as he tries to figure it out

you end up with some new reference pics of his set for any of your future clients, what a supportive boyfriend!

a certain photo is going viral as it makes its rounds online. the photographer who took it had to have known they struck gold capturing this certain moment, and the racking number of likes and comments are only affirmations of that.

it's a professional shot of sakusa kiyoomi mid-game. late-game, actually, as its evident though the state of his appearance in the picture.

visible droplets dot his face and figure, giving his skin and curly hair a certain sheen that proves the dedication he puts into every one of the msby jackals' games. to combat the sweat that's accumulated on himself, it seems like sakusa had absentmindedly reached for the edge of his jersey to act as a substitute for a towel in that particular moment (his expression is clearly focused on nothing but what might've been happening next on the other side of the court net). the muscles that adorn his torso peek out from the action.

and on top of it all–the sweat, the abs, the way the rest of the jersey clings to the rest of his body–the subtle chrome detailing of his nails stand out where his hand tugs the fabric to wipe at the bottom of his face...

and you hadn't even really caught on to this picture online yourself. the only reason you went to look it up for yourself was because of the influx of work emails you had received since the jackals' last win.

the public was vaguely aware you specialized in cosmetics, as sakusa had alluded to now and then in press conferences and interviews. however, it wasn't really until people online started to wonder where your boyfriend got these nails from did google's reverse-image search bring them to the pictures on your profile that you and sakusa took post- his manicure.

to say your clientele grew overnight, would be quite the understatement.

︴miya atsumu ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘° 

ik the picture is a bit blurry but PLEASE stick with me here yall 🙏 HEAR ME OUT

heavy on that barbie ken atsumu sort of agenda

you ask if he had any colors in mind

and he’s like "y'know what? fuck it. go big or go home."

he knows people might shit on him for having his nails done at his next game so yeah get the most stereotypically “feminine” color you got–just to mess with whatever losers might whine about it

“but... do ya think pink would look good on me y/n?” [atsumu] (AND HE'S KIND OF SHY WHEN HE'S ASKING YOU)

"OF COURSE IT WOULD BABY??" [you]

as you're ducked down working, he misses seeing your face

so he cranes his neck and looks up at you from where his hands are

"hey baby, funny seeing you here." [atsumu]

"tsumu, stay still!" [you]

"sorry angel, just missed lookin' at ya." [atsumu]

in that position, he loves the feeling of you holding his hands and the sensation of the nail polish brush against the top of his fingers so much, that he semi-falls asleep against his forearm as you wrap up

he just feels so much at peace <3

and when you’re done he is definitely giving ken, and that his job is volleyball

and tbh i hc his hair post timeskip isn’t so much piss yellow as ppl joke it was while he was at inarizaki

but that if he stuck through with keeping it blonde for so long he eventually managed to get it professionally done, and with some GODDAMN TONER 😭

i think it’s like a brassy sort of blonde

which looks perfect as an accent to the nails

like pop off regina george!!!!

something endearing about your loving atsumu is he never fails to get you the best seats in the arena whenever you come watch the msby jackals play.

from front row, you can see everything, and in so much detail—the action, the sweat, the tears that goes into each and every matchup the team faces. truly, the experience was leagues above settling for a closer look on any big screen or arena jumbotron. everything was just so much clearer!

but most importantly, you can see your boyfriend. very clearly.

so clearly, in fact, that after a particular great serve to bokuto for a spike that earned the jackals yet another point, you have the luxury of soaking in all the glowing details of atsumu in his element.

the way he clutches his strong fists and yells with joy at the small win, a bit of pink peeking out from the insides of his palms.

how his hands clap and grasp at the hands of his teammates in quick celebratory high-fives that leave streaky blurs of pink trailing behind his excited movements.

when his hand quickly drags over his smiling and glistening face, before carding through his hair—small pink detailings disappearing and reappearing amidst the blonde strands that rest on the top of his head.

by the time all the players on the court are settled back into their places for when the moment the ball will be up in the air once again—anticipation pulsing on both sides of the net—you can even catch as atsumu quickly glances at his nails with a small, blink-and-you’d-miss-it smile.

thankfully, your top-tier seat allows you to catch it. and although he’s smiling at his hands, you know that it’s for your work and by extension, it’s all love for you in that split second before your boyfriend has to lock in again.

when the next ball is served, you find yourself almost falling out of your chair from how far you’re leaning forward to take in as much of your great view as possible.

︴bokuto kōtarō ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘° 

MISMATCH IS A MUST

you say the few designs you want to try out and ask him which one you can try on him and he just goes: ALL OF THEM!

(he knows it’ll take longer to do with all the different elements, but that just means he gets to stare at you for longer as you work)

"are you sure? i mean, do you have a color you want in particular? i can tweak them so they all have the same palette." [you]

"nope! cover me with whatever your beautiful mind is envisioning!" [bokuto] (he's jutting his fingers out in front of you and wiggling them around with the biggest grin on his face)

these nails also just fits him as a person because he’s super all over the place and spontaneous so it works it JUST WORKS OK

plus his hair’s literally greyish whitish so it’s like a perfect neutral and blank canvas to accent the color palette

it's one thing having him sit still for an extended amount of time, but having you this close? right in front of him?

how is he not supposed to give your lips a quick kiss now and then

BUT!!! he always goes to double check he didn't mess up the nails every time he pulls back

"kō, the nails are fine! you didn't even move your hands, you're just moving your head to kiss me, silly." [you]

"just making sure, babe! i know this stuff takes a lot of work. plus, i can't really think of what else is happening when i'm kissing you, really." [bokuto] (already going in for another kiss)

you can see in the corner of your eye as you work on your designs that bokuto's nose scrunches up now and then

it's because he's not used to the smell of the nail products you're using

upon completing the whole nail set, he concludes it’s legitimately one of THE COOLEST THINGS anyone’s ever fucking done for him

doesn’t stop staring at his hands in a little bit of awe even after you’re done and chilling on the living room couch, completely oblivious to what's going on on the tv in front of you two

the crowd is going absolutely ballistic. the jackals are in the lead. and your boyfriend, the bokuto kōtarō is up and about to serve.

you watch the arena's big teleprompter with the rest of the spectators as the cameras pan to bokuto.

he has that look on his face–confident and happy playing the sport that runs through his veins. his hand crashes down onto the ball once. wham!

twice. blam!

when the ball comes back up, he grips it between his hands. it's evident even through the screen how his arms tense and pulse. it's like he's revving up.

as everyone hangs off the edge of their seats and keep their eyes glued in anticipation to the broadcasting of bokuto holding that unmistakable combo of blue and yellow–it's impossible to ignore how the ends of his hands glint and reflect the bright overhead lights.

colors of all kinds twitch in excitement against the leather and the star player quickly glances down at the ball, sure, but most definitely also at the intricate art you so graciously blessed his nails with. bokuto's lips crack a smile.

then he's tossing the volleyball up. a loud and powerful smack reverberates throughout the arena. in the blink of an eye the ball whizzes past two of the opposite team's players and the crowd explodes once again as the ball is now rolling on the outskirts of the court across the net.

your boyfriend's chest swells with pride, and his carefully manicured finger darts to point over you in the stands. you cheer even louder for him as he beams a tooth-filled smile your way.

💬 kuroppiii  ─ “ oh and i forgot to point out that most of these designs are short and with minimal charms so they don't get in the way of a volleyball player ' s , well ... volleyball playing ! short nail - ers rise up ! ”

i've been rotating this man in my mind like a rotisserie chicken

proshippers dni. i want you gone

permanent fix

soulmate au + a/b/o

paring: alpha atsumu x fem beta reader

warnings: bullying, dub-con, atsumu is not nice, smut, slight breeding kink, biting, blood, choking, mirror sex, possessiveness, jealousy, alpha rut, atsumu talks shit, dramatic atsumu

word count: 2.2k

english is not my first language. please excuse any mistakes

Born as a beta, you never thought fate would toy with you by giving an alpha as your soulmate. Especially not one like Miya Atsumu, the one whom you went to school through college with and still having to see his face ever so frequently as if he had sworn to never let you live in peace. 

For someone who made faces when seeing the lunchboxes your mom packed for you and proclaimed a beta was weak when you first presented at fifteen, Miya Atsumu couldn’t seem to detach himself from you. 

So when you had a crush on one of your colleagues at twenty five, having his nose in your business as usual, Atsumu knew instantly. 

“Another beta.” Lying comfortably on your couch, Atsumu scoffed. “Predictable.” 

“Didn’t ask for your opinions.” 

“I’m giving it anyway,” he said in a singsong voice, but his face was without mirth. “You can fuck whoever you want, but I’m getting my fix. That’s non-negotiable.”

Oh, yeah. His fix. 

He patted his lap. “Come here.”

Then it all began again. Him cradling you in his lap, hands going all over, lips spilling hateful words. 

‘Weak fucking beta.’ He would say. ‘Even Osamu got an omega soulmate. Makes me jealous as fuck.’ 

But then he would kiss you like the world might end tomorrow, doing everything opposite of what he said. This time was no different. His hot tongue was everywhere he could reach, acquainted itself with yours before leaving a wet trail down your neck. 

You protested when he nipped a little too hard, scared he might leave marks. He did that once. The deep purple hickey you saw in the mirror after he left your apartment scared the shit out of you. A little more force and teeth could have broken the skin, and that thought caused chills to run all over your body. You didn’t want to bear his marks. 

Yet, Atsumu didn’t care. He never did. His hands were now on your buttocks, squeezing hard through your thin pajama bottoms. He moved you to one of his thighs for better concentration. The hands on your butt now rolled your hips back and forth, to the point your moan finally slipped out of your tightly zipped lips and you forgot about the harsh nibbling on your neck.

“Go whore yourself out,” Atsumu whispered. “Like I fucking care.”

Same here, asshole.

You thought, didn’t say out loud. 

Touching each other lifted the heavy weight in the heart caused by the act of not accepting the soulmate bond. Nothing more, nothing less. If not for this calling of intimacy both of you obliged to feel, he wouldn’t be here. You knew that. He said it way too many times. 

Still, your cheeks were licked, your lips were tasted, neck wet with saliva. You felt like a prey about to be eaten every time he was close. Yes, he may not care. But he sure was possessive enough of things that were given to him. 

Whenever you tried to wiggle out of his firm grasp, he tightened his fist. This time was the hardest you ever felt. 

—

In more than twenty years of knowing each other, never once did Atsumu come to you when he had gone into rut. So when he called you two in the morning one week after his last fix, ordered you to pack a bag and tell your boss you would be on leave for a week, you were baffled. It was never more than kisses and touches with him. Your clothes were always intact and on. The idea of that being changed had you flat out saying no. 

That didn’t stop Atsumu from coming to get you one hour later though. When he saw that you did nothing to get ready, his jaw was clenched. A split second later, he packed your bag himself, shoving clothes and toiletries in without any care. You were still in pajamas when the passenger door was slammed closed and he hit the gas. 

—

There were reasons why betas are not for alphas. Physically, they were incompatible. Betas weren’t designed for alpha’s stamina, not to mention one in rut. At one point, you did not care to count anymore how many times you had blacked out. Fading in and out really fucked with your memory. All you remembered was the non-stop pounding, Atsumu’s breath against your face, and his uncharacteristic cooing, praising you as his good girl. 

“Knew you were built for me.” The blond menace pulled on both of your wrists, never stopped his thrusting. “Let me knot you again, okay?” When you shook your head, face wet with tears, Atsumu shushed you softly. “Shhhhh. You can do it, I know you can.”

And you could. But it was not without pain. 

“Shouldn’t have waited this long,” Atsumu said close to your lips. “You almost got away.” 

He talked too much. But it would have been a big fat lie to deny that his words didn’t turn you on. That his vile confession didn’t affect you.

“Bold of you to even think I would let someone else touch you.” He sounded out of breath, closing to his end. “All the effort goes to waste. No no no no.” 

You felt it coming, just seconds before. Then your whole body was taken by the waves of thrills and your whole vision turned white. Atsumu was not your first, but as if he was the harbinger of agony, it hurt when he first penetrated, hurt when he knotted. And when you felt a sharp sting at your sensitive neck, you knew he defied the rule of nature once again by marking you. 

Fruitless. That was what it would be. Betas were not made for alphas. Mating bites did not forge any bond with the wrong person and would fade over time. But Atsumu had always been stubborn. One bite turned into two, three, then countless. All you felt was pain and the wetness of blood before darkness took your consciousness like the many rounds before. 

—

The mating bites faded within two weeks, all except the first mark, proving to you that even biology could not win over destiny. Same went with all other beta-alpha soulmate couples out there after you had done some research. They were rare, but they were there. You shouldn’t have let Atsumu bite you. Should have known better that things could get weird when it came to soulmates. Now, he wouldn’t get off your ass, had the audacity to move his things to your apartment and yours to his, calling you his girlfriend in front of everyone and expecting to see you at his games. 

You didn’t even like volleyball to begin with. And as you watched his magnificent tosses to any players he deemed to have high chances to score, you thought of a way to get out of his clutch. 

He needed an omega, the correct designation he always longed for. Because even with all the protective caresses and the promise to never let you go, Atsumu was still mean. Like going back to the ninth grade when you put makeup on for the first time and he gave you the nastiest comment that made you go wash everything off in the school toilet, his words still stung badly when he chose to weaponize them. 

‘Samu’s mate smells like she needs to be bred.’ He said that nonchalantly one day at Onigiri Miya, sitting side by side with you at the counter where his twin and his mate helped each other with cooking and serving the hungry athletes who were there to celebrate the day’s victory ‘Don’t know how he stands that. So sweet’ 

Hearing that made your conversation with Hinata pause. His steely gaze was the first thing you saw when turning to face ‘your boyfriend’. 

It didn’t end there. For days Atsumu was in a devilish mood, his jabs that you knew most of them were meant to just rile you up for fun had become a real emotional harm. He still fucked you, make no mistake about that. And it was as devilish as his temper. 

‘Too hard, Miya. Too hard.’ You still wouldn’t call him by his first name. 

Veiny hands wrapped snugly around your neck, Atsumu only went faster after hearing that. The bathroom mirror was foggy with hot steam from the shower, but you could see enough. One of your legs was perched on the counter, allowing the view of his cock pistoning in and out of you, your breasts bouncing fast. 

‘Would have been pregnant already if you were an omega.’ The sentence came out coated with his accent, thicker than normal, like he didn’t have full control of how he spoke. ‘But that’s alright. I can take my time with you. We’ll get there,’ he purred. ‘Still, what a shame, huh?’ 

Shame his ass for saying that and not letting you leave. ‘Go fuck an omega then.’

He smirked. Pissed you off. ‘Nah.’ 

As his toss to Sakusa scored a winning point, the loud cheer brought you back to the present. You saw Atsumu eyes staring up at you from the court below and knew what you had to do. 

—

Getting an omega who wanted to spend a heat with Miya Atsumu was easy enough. Sending her up to your apartment where he was already there waiting for you was as simple. You drove away then, not far, stopping at your favorite 24-hour cafe because you needed somewhere to sit and waited for the first feedback from the omega girl. Half an hour later, you got a call. 

The screen showed the female omega’s name. You picked up and said hello, expecting to hear that everything went well and that you could go find somewhere else to sleep for the next five nights.

But you only heard cries. Not of pleasure, just a full-blown crying with hiccups. 

“Hey, are you okay?” you asked, frowning. “Talk to me. What happened?” 

“He—he screamed—at me,” she spluttered, almost incoherently, “and only asked where you were.” 

You cursed quietly, finally able to stop stirring the poor coffee you ordered without any interest in taking a sip. “Where is he now?” 

“I don’t know,” she cried. “He left—after the screaming.” Her voice wavered all the more when she kept on trying to speak. “You had to see him. He looked murderous. There was not even a hello. He straight up shouted at me, accusing me of breaking in. When I tried to explain—mentioned you, his face was all red.” A hiccup interrupted the long babbling. “He said he was married to you and showed me the ring.”

You were not sure what crack Atsumu was on, but there was definitely no ring or marriage. 

The call was still on when you heard the cafe’s door pushed open. And it was as if you saw the devil with your own naked eyes.

Atsumu walked in. 

His strides declared no peace or mercy when he saw you, ignoring the greetings from the two night shift baristas. 

Not wanting to cause a scene, you stood up, didn’t say anything when he put his hand on your shoulder and led the way out. 

The drive was silent. Your car was left at the parking lot near the cafe, you would have to come and get it as soon as you could before the parking fee turned as murderous as him. When asked where he was going, he answered solemnly, “My place. Yours stinks.” 

You just knew it was going to be a long night. 

—

Atsumu was the one who got the car out for you the next morning since he was the one who could still walk without wobbling. The sheets you slept on were rumpled. They reeked of cum. 

You reeked of cum. 

‘You think you’re so funny?’ he asked, knowing you couldn’t answer with his cock occupying your mouth but did it nonetheless ‘You wanted me to fuck her? What was going on in that pretty little head?’ 

He pulled you by the nape of your neck before pushing your head down, forcing your throat to take more of him till you felt the urge to gag. 

‘I thought we had an understanding, baby,’ he said, finally relenting his grip on your head. ‘No whoring yourself out.’ Then he stressed, ‘And no whoring me out. I’m yours.’

‘Do you understand?’ 

You only nodded.

‘Words.’ 

‘Yes, Miya.’ 

‘Atsumu,’ he said, looking like he wanted to throw up. ‘You’re not fucking my brother. Don’t make me imagine that. Call me Atsumu.’

‘Yes, Tsumu.’ 

Looked like you delivered. Atsumu grinned from ear to ear. ‘Good girl. My best girl.’ 

That was last night. 

A warm kiss to the cheek woke you again, must have dozed off after Atsumu left, but those scenes were not a dream. You heard him whisper, 

“I got your car. Parked it at your place.”

He looked like he got a ten-hour sleep while you could not move a limb without feeling sore. Not fair. And the way he looked so good in sheep’s clothing, his wolf’s skin all hidden. Not fair at all.

“Shower.” Your voice was hoarse, but you got the message through. That was good enough.