Aone X Reader - Blog Posts

Futakuchi actually watches quiz-shows. It's always fun seeing him getting annoyed at the answers of the candidates if it's wrong. It's not like his answers are always right, but it's just amusing to see him as he mumbles his thinking out loud.

“Can I sit on you(r face)?” (Haikyuu!! Fake Texts)

(Middle Blocker Version) Part 2

A/N: Part two cuz apparently you can only put so many damn pics in one post🙄 Enjoy! (Side note: Suna’s was just Kuroo’s reject, but I didn’t wanna exclude him from the group😤 nobody frickin’ told me the dude only had like a minute of screen time tho?!)

Kuroo, Aone, Tendou

“Can I sit on you(r face)?” (Haikyuu!! Fake Texts)

(Middle Blocker Version) Part 1

A/N: Suna, Tendou, and Kuroo all got daddy kinks🤷‍♀️I don’t make the rules. A knee ways, can someone explain why my fake texts are always so damn horny?? I think I have a problem... ehh whatever. These ones are longer cuz the damn ideas didn’t fit, but otherwise, enjoy!

Tsukishima, Lev, Hinata, Suna

Favourite Positions: Aone

It always starts slow with Aone.

Not because he’s hesitant—no, he knows what he wants—but because he treats you like you’re something he’s afraid to break. Like you’re porcelain in his calloused hands, delicate and precious. Every movement he makes is calculated, controlled, like he’s memorizing the way your skin feels under his touch.

He looms over you, body heavy and warm, eyes so intensely focused it makes you squirm beneath him. But he doesn’t move until you nod, until you reach up and brush your fingertips along his jaw, silent permission passed between you.

Then he breathes.

Like he’s been holding it in this whole time.

His hands slide under your thighs to pull you closer, gentle but firm, fitting your hips against his like puzzle pieces that only ever made sense when pressed together. And the second he’s sheathed inside you, it’s like the entire world stills.

“You okay?” It’s the first word he’s spoken since his mouth met yours.

His voice is rougher than usual—breathless, already wrecked—and the weight of his body above you is grounding. Comforting. You nod, and he leans down to kiss your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth like he’s trying to calm himself down.

You can feel how tense he is. Not from discomfort, but from restraint. He could take you fast. He could chase his own release and be done in minutes. But he never does. He moves slow. Deep. His strokes drag like honey, hips rolling into yours with deliberate pressure, drawing out your pleasure with an intensity that’s overwhelming in the best way.

And all the while, he never stops looking at you.

“You’re beautiful like this,” he murmurs, so quietly you almost miss it.

It’s not like him to speak, but tonight there’s a flush high on his cheeks, a fire behind his eyes that he can’t hold back. His forehead presses to yours. His nose brushes along your cheek. His fingers find your hand and lace between them, anchoring you to him as if he's afraid you'll disappear.

“Don’t look away,” he says softly, thumb stroking over your wrist.

Like he wants to memorize the way your face twists when you moan, the way your eyes flutter when he hits that spot just right. And when your breath hitches and your legs tremble around his waist, he doesn’t pick up the pace—he slows down. Drags it out. Holds you tighter, kisses you deeper.

It’s not just sex with Aone.

It’s connection. It’s adoration. It’s devotion.

And when you finally come undone, back arching, nails clawing at his shoulders, he doesn’t let you fall apart alone. He follows seconds after, burying his face in the crook of your neck like he needs to hide the sound of his own release.

The silence that follows is warm. Safe.

He doesn’t pull away.

Just rests his weight on you, arms locked around your waist, holding you close like he never wants to let go.

“You’re okay?”

The same question again, but this time it’s softer. Sleepier.

And when you nod, tangled up in his arms, you hear the smallest, faintest exhale.

Like he’s home.

HIII can i request something abour Aone and Kunimi! Id love to see how you woukd write about them!

Oooh I can definitely do that heheh Thank you for your ask!! --

Aone was used to people avoiding him.

It wasn’t personal—at least, he didn’t think it was. He knew what he looked like. Tall, broad-shouldered, his expression unreadable even when he tried to seem approachable. And, of course, there was the fact that he had no eyebrows, which only seemed to add to the whole 'intimidating presence' thing. He had overheard people whispering about it before, speculating whether he was just naturally that way or if something had happened. He never corrected them. It wasn’t worth the effort.

He didn’t mind it, not really. It wasn’t like he needed constant conversation. If anything, he preferred the quiet. But that didn’t stop the occasional pang of irritation when someone flinched at his presence or whispered about how scary he was. He never let it bother him for long. It wasn’t worth dwelling on.

But then there was you, who never seemed to get the memo.

You greeted him every morning with a bright “Good morning, Aone!” as if it were the most natural thing in the world. You sat next to him during team lunches, never asking if it was okay, never making a big deal out of it—just plopping down beside him, completely unfazed. When the team joked and teased each other, you always made a point to include him, nudging his arm playfully or throwing in a comment like “Right, Aone?” as if it was obvious that he was part of the conversation.

At first, he thought maybe it was an accident. That you just hadn’t realized how others saw him. But when weeks passed and nothing changed, Aone started to realize something.

You weren’t scared of him. Not even a little bit.

And for reasons he couldn’t explain, that made his chest feel warm.

It started during practice one afternoon.

The team was running drills, the gym buzzing with the sound of sneakers squeaking against the floor and volleyballs smacking against hands. Aone was focused, blocking each spike that came his way, his body moving on instinct. He wasn’t paying much attention to anything else until he heard a sharp gasp from the sidelines.

He turned his head just in time to see you stumble, tripping over someone’s stray bag. It was one of the first years', carelessly left near the edge of the court, and you hadn’t noticed it in time. Your arms flailed slightly as you lost your balance, and Aone’s body moved before his mind could catch up.

In an instant, his hands were on your arms, steadying you before you could hit the ground. His grip was firm, grounding, keeping you upright with ease. You blinked up at him, wide-eyed, caught off guard by the sudden proximity. For a long moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, to his surprise, you laughed.

“Wow, you’re really strong,” you said, your voice light, as if you hadn’t just nearly faceplanted in the middle of practice.

Aone swallowed. He wasn’t used to compliments—especially not ones directed at him. His ears burned slightly, but he managed a stiff nod, gently letting go of you once he was sure you were steady.

You dusted yourself off, still grinning. “Guess I should stick close to you, huh? Might need you to save me again.”

Aone blinked.

Most people avoided standing too close to him. You were… different.

Slowly, he nodded again.

Your smile widened. “Good. That settles it.”

And just like that, you carried on, moving as if nothing had happened, as if Aone catching you had been the most natural thing in the world. But Aone felt a little different now, his hands still tingling from where he had touched you. It was a strange, unfamiliar feeling, and he wasn’t sure what to do with it.

Later, when practice ended and the team started gathering their things, Aone noticed you walking in his direction. Without thinking, he shifted slightly, making space for you beside him. It was subtle, instinctive, but you noticed immediately, plopping down next to him with an exaggerated sigh.

“I think today’s the day I finally die,” you groaned dramatically. “Tell my family I love them.”

Aone huffed a quiet breath through his nose. It was barely anything, but you must have caught it because you turned your head and grinned at him.

“Was that a laugh?” you asked, eyes bright with mischief. “Oh, we’re making progress.”

Aone shook his head, but he didn’t deny it.

You tilted your head slightly, watching him curiously. “You know,” you mused, “most people get freaked out by you, but I don’t see why. You’re like… a human security blanket.”

Aone blinked at you, unsure of what to say to that. He had been called many things before—scary, intimidating, weird—but never a security blanket. He felt his ears burn again.

“I mean it,” you continued, stretching your arms above your head. “It’s nice having you around. Makes things feel a little more solid.”

He swallowed, staring down at his hands. He wasn’t sure how to respond, but before he could even try, you stood up, stretching out your back with a groan.

“Anyway, I better go before they make me do more work,” you said, nodding toward the rest of the team. “See you tomorrow, Aone.”

And then, like always, you left just as easily as you had appeared, leaving Aone sitting there, his mind spinning with thoughts he wasn’t sure how to process.

Maybe, for the first time, he didn’t mind having someone stick close to him after all.