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「balsamic vinegar」

warnings: suna rintarou x f!reader. fluff. like two suggestive lines.

never would you have thought that there comes a day when you’d have the miya atsumu begging for your help.

“baby, please, make him stop. i can’t do this anymore.”

post practice, the national team’s setter had ambushed you outside the changing rooms in a desperate bid for social survival.

you ignore his pleading expression, adamantly focusing on the press release draft on your screen. “he’s your problem.”

“no, see, that’s the thing,” aran says with a shake his head. “he wants to make himself your problem.”

“i don’t even follow him!”

“why not? lord, queen, your majesty, the goddess of mercy herself,” the setter just about cries, “take pity on us mortals and just follow sunarin back!”

for once in his life, aran approves of his teammate’s overreaction. “it’d save everyone everywhere a whole lotta trouble. my soul’s like crushed from the secondhand embarrassment.”

you frown. “go ask his publicist.”

“you’re his publicist!”

“was,” you sniff, lowering your phone. “working for the adlers is doing wonders for my will to live.”

“what about my will to live?” the twenty-seven year old slides down the wall like a pile of gravy. “‘m your favourite setter!”

you stare at the blond. “moving on…” you clear your throat. atsumu glares up at you. “if nothing else works, email iwaizumi.”

his scowl turns into disbelief. “i can’t email iwa-chan ‘bout this! i hope to a nicer god than you that he doesn’t even see whatever the fuck sunarin’s doin’.”

you scoff. with oikawa tooru as a best friend and kuroo tetsurou as a colleague, there’s no way their athletic trainer hasn’t seen suna’s frequent updates.

“coach hibarida? management?” you list off. “ask tetsu to ask kenma to lock suna out of his ig account.”

“that’s not how rich works,” aran sighs. “and it’s not like you don’t know suna. he won’t stop ‘til he proves you wrong.” 

“there’s nothing to prove!”

Keep reading

your TAGS i cannot afford to fall in love with another miya brother PLEASE i will die

Osamu crowds you against the worn door at the top of Onigiri Miya’s narrow back stairwell, drawing a heated palm up the curve of your side through the thick felted wool of your coat.

“Cut it out,” you giggle as he jostles your hand- key clasped tightly in your fingers- away from the rusty lock.

“Don’t wanna,” he protests, dipping his nose into the hollow of your temple. You can feel his smile against the top of your cheekbone. He still smells smoky and savoury from the teppanyaki place, with the warm flush of two- no- three glasses of red wine rising to his cheeks. He isn’t drunk, but even if he was, it wouldn’t show.

“That was the best goddamned steak I’ve ever had,” he mumbles into your hair, curling one thick forearm around your middle.

Not drunk on wine, anyway.

“Yeah, I’m…” You trail off, concentrating long enough to get the key in the lock, turning and pushing inward. You have to brace your shoulder against the door a little to shove it open, since the frame’s a little warped, and together you stumble into the entryway of the tiny apartment above Osamu’s shop.

“I’m pretty sure it doesn’t get any better than that,” you finish, but he’s not interested in finishing this conversation anymore.

Osamu flips you around between his hands, bracing both palms on your hips and dipping his forehead to yours. The soft strands of his dark hair come loose and fluffy away from whatever style he’d mussed it into earlier that evening, sharing the bathroom mirror with you as you slipped on your rings and adjusted your top.

“Hmm,” he sighs, and his shoulders drop with all the bliss in the world. “I love ya.”

“You’ll say anything on a full stomach,” you purr, planting your hands on the soft plane of it. He lets out a low grunt and slips a hand into the folds of your coat, pinching the tenderest part of your waist to make you yelp.

“I love you too-mph.” You’re cut off by the courteous press of his mouth to yours, and after a heartbeat of polite fumbling, you settle into the rhythm of his kiss and let him slowly divest you of your coat.

You tilt your head to one side, gasping quietly for breath and letting him trail wine-flavoured kisses down the bared column of your throat. He’s setting your skin on fire, lifting shimmering sensations to the surface that the wine in your own system only amplifies.

“Mm-bedroom,” you sigh.

“Don’t hafta tell me twice,” he mumbles into your skin.

Once you get there, however, he tugs you into his arms, collapses backwards onto the bed, and doesn’t move. You give him five whole seconds to do something, and when he fails to, you stir in his magnetic hold.

“Baby?” Your voice comes soft and prompting.

“Mmm?” He opens one eye, peering down at you over the curve of his cheek.

“Weren’t we about to…?”

“Oh, god, no, I can’t,” he groans. “I’m so full I could die. Y’don’t want me messin’ around in there tonight, promise.”

“But…” You can hardly protest. The longer you lie there, the heavier dinner’s weight begins to settle in your gut. He’s right. Expecting sex after all-you-can-eat teppanyaki was beginning to feel like expecting snow in Mexico.

“Let’s do it in the morning,” he brushes, and that pulls a giggle from your chest. When you lift your head, the little smirk that tugs at the corners of his lips proves that he’s still having fun.

“I’ll make it up to ya real good. I swear.”

And the next morning, in sun-drenched sheets of white linen, he does.

The sun isn’t out yet, but there’s blue city lights cascading from the blinds along your bedsheets, and they mix with the linen in a way that lets you know that it isn’t quite morning. You blindly reach for your bedside table, letting your palm smack against the wood until you meet your phone. You squint at the light as it meets your eyes, and then furrow your brows as the time blurs and unblurs in your vision.

It’s three in the morning, 3:27, to be exact, and by the time your senses start to really come back to you, you realize there’s a gentle whirring coming from somewhere in your home. You go to turn, shifting in the sheets to see if your husband, Kuroo, is awake, only to see empty sheets, pillows stacked against your back in his place. And once again, you find your brows furrowing, a little click of your tongue as you scan your bedroom for any sign of your husband. Though your door is set slightly ajar, you can’t find traces of him anywhere—no papers scattered across his nightstand, no pens or journals laying atop your dresser, not even the sound of his distant footsteps settling into the floor of the hallway..

Instead, the little whirring that you’re certain first woke you, stops, and now you’re certain that if you don't find out what that was, you’re going to go insane. That and, obviously, finding your husband. A thought of your own priorities flits across your head, but you only sigh, blowing air out through almost-closed lips, and get up, letting the cold air hit the exposed skin of your arms and legs as you get out of bed.

You grab one of the folded blankets from the ottoman that rests at the foot of your bed, wrapping it around your shoulders and letting it drag along the floor as you walk—your footsteps light enough that they hardly make a creak in the wood, the balls of your feet taking a majority of the pressure anyway. Your cat, whom you had not seen on that same ottoman, perks up and runs after you, presumably awaiting an early breakfast (which, much to his dismay, he will not be getting, but he’ll give you hell for it anyway, you're sure). 

So you walk, little Peanut trailing along behind you, and make your way down the stairs until you arrive at the entryway of Kuroo’s office. Peanut starts to meow at your feet, but just inside you can hear the shuffling of papers and the click of plastic against plastic. Slowly, you open the door, knocking against the wood as you move inside. Peanut rushes in before you can even fully see Kuroo, settling down by the heater. Kuroo turns when you've just barely made it into the room. He’s still wearing the clothes he slept in and, supposedly, will continue to sleep in those clothes, but he’s standing over your files and his desk like he’s just finished something that he’s terribly proud of—his eyes crinkled at their corners in a barely-there smile. And yet, he looks almost apologetic, despite being nearly a foot taller than you, he looks small, his shoulders slumped a bit as he plays with his hands in front of him.

Kuroo’s always been an attractive man to you, but now he almost seems a little prettier. You can’t decide if it’s the way the blue light hits against his skin, still tanned from your honeymoon, or if it’s the way the black strands of his hair still stand out wildly against each other from just getting out of bed. No matter the occurrence, you smile at him, choosing to ignore the weight of the blanket around you and the red that’s sure to be present in your eyes at this hour.

“What, are you doing paperwork for your secret business or something?”

Kuroo laughs, his shoulders visibly relaxing at the sound of you teasing him. He shakes his head, waving you off as he goes to pick at another stack of papers.

“Yeah, yeah, you caught me. Genius,” He pokes back, and you roll your eyes, taking a few strides across the room to reach him and wrap your arms around him, your head leaning against his back. “I was just shredding a couple things. Felt cluttered.” He laughs a bit at himself at the end of that, and then turns, craning his neck to see where you stand behind him. “Sorry if I woke you.”

You hum against him, a wordless gesture of you’re fine, and then stand there for a moment—you're sure that you’re on the verge of falling asleep standing up when Kuroo goes to move again.

“Uh, I need to, you know, shred a few more things.” You press your forehead against his back, groaning into him as he laughs at you again, breaking himself free from your arms as he moves a few more things from files to what you presume must be a “shred” pile. And then the whirring sound comes back as he starts to shred things again, much louder this time and much more annoying, but you’re a little glad to have both found the source of the sound and your husband in one fell swoop. So you lean back against the one clear part of his desk, watching as he moves between pile and shredder, pile and shredder.

“One question,” you begin, speaking just over the noise. Kuroo hums in acknowledgement, quickly meeting your eyes before returning to the papers. “What prompted you to start shredding things at three in the morning, exactly?”

Kuroo sticks out his bottom lip, downturning his mouth as he shrugs and sorts through a few more papers.

“Call it divine intervention,” He replies, and you only roll your eyes, leaning across the shredder to swat at his arm while he laughs, feigning a bit of pain at the motion. “Okay, okay, I woke up and was bored. This seemed like the best option.”

“You know, generally if people wake up at three in the morning, they go back to sleep. Maybe tell their wife they love them-”

“Well, you weren’t awake, now were you.”

You stick your tongue out at him, and he copies the movement before he shreds his last papers. You tilt your head, looking at the window into the compartment of the shredder. You step forward, a hand out in front of you and reach for the paper in Kuroo’s. But the warnings for him to stop reach his ears a little too late, because he’s already pushing the papers through the shredder, trying to force it through the blades as the shredder makes a terribly sad clicking noise. Peanut perks up at the sound, scurrying out of the room and, from the sound of his paws against the ground, up the stairs as well.

“Babe, I think-”

“No, don’t worry I got this, it does this sometimes.”

“Yeah like, when it’s jammed?”

Kuroo looks up, brows drawn together. “When it’s what?”

Laughter splutters from your lips, though Kuroo widens his eyes, his gaze darting between you and the shredder.

“I swear I didn’t know shredders could get jammed,” He says, standing up and trying to pull the sheets out of the blades. Yet, undoubtedly, they stay where they are. you mumble something about him making you laugh, and Kuroo just backs away, watching as you bend down to unplug the shredder. 

“You are so smart,” you begin, taking the top of the shredder, stuck paper and all, off of the bin. And what you say is true. If you didn’t know it by the way you’ve known him for years now, by the way he sat by you and talked you through math problems you didn’t quite get in college, you would certainly know it by the array of degrees hung above his desk. But in this moment, with that look on his face and his hair hanging in his eyes, a too-full bin for your shredder sitting in front of you, you’re sure of one thing. “But god, you are so stupid sometimes.”

He narrows his eyes at you, playful in the way he purses his lips, and you just shrug, settling your blanket around your shoulders as you kneel on the floor in front of the shredder. You know Kuroo’s watching you as you pick at the pieces of paper, cutting them away with the nearby pair of scissors until you can start to loosen the pieces from the blades—ever so carefully. 

“You know, normally shredders turn off when the bin is getting full,” Kuroo begins, peering into the shredder’s contents to see what’s been sitting inside. If you know him, you’re sure that it’s been a few months at least since he’s emptied this, and who knows how long he’s been up shredding things. You turn over the top to see bits of shredded paper stuck in the blades, and sigh. You know you should go upstairs and grab your old tweezers, that you should use those to grab the paper and move on, but the blanket is warm and your legs are tired and frankly, you just want to get this done so you can both go back to bed.

So you start picking at the paper with your fingers, careful not to touch the blades, much to Kuroo’s displeasure—he’s making those sounds he makes when he doesn’t quite know what to say, stumbling over breath and syllables instead of real words.

You just shrug, still focused on picking out the pieces of paper with your hands, while Kuroo gives up with a groan and a backwards tilt of his head. You chuckle a bit at him, more through your nose than through your lips, and then watch as he picks up the bin and goes to empty out its contents.

It’s not long after that you sigh and lean back, the rest of the paper finally out of the blades and, thankfully, not a cut on your hands in sight. When you look up, Kuroo has half of the bin emptied into his office trash can, the other half too much paper to even try to fit in there.

And though normally you would love to poke fun at him for this, though you’d love to make some comment that makes him roll his eyes and knock his shoulders into yours, you’re feeling particularly tired right now—you’re fairly certain it’s closer to 4:00 than it is to 3:30 now—and you’d feel much better if you could just get back in bed like most normal wives do with their normal husbands.

you almost make yourself laugh. Wouldn’t normalcy sound nice?

“You stay there,” you start, finally letting the blanket fall from your shoulders and into a sad little pile on the ground, “I’ll take that out and get another bag, you finish whatever it is you need to do.”

Kuroo goes to say something, and from the look on his face you knows it’s going to be something along the lines of well, there wasn’t really an end-goal, per se, and the thought of that makes you want to drag him upstairs and force him to sleep, so you just stare at him, a little blankly, and at your expression he puts his hands up and does a look of playful surrender.

So you grab the bag out of the trash, and then notice a few pieces of paper scattered on the floor around the can, so you lean down, going to pick one of them up to throw into the bag with the rest of them. And then you stop.

The paper seems a little thicker, cardstock, maybe, and there’s a familiar frilly design that seems to roll around it, disappearing in certain places to fade into a soft tan. You pick it up, turning it over in your fingers and scanning the bag that hangs off of your arm for more pieces of the document. you find more of the blue design that carts around the edges, and then your eyes fall onto another piece of cardstock. This time, with hard, block lettering, an a and part of a g sitting next to each other. You look a little further down, and then, staring back at you, is the mess of part of your own signature, you’re sure of it.

You turn, slowly. You’re a little scared to see Kuroo’s face, honestly, whether or not he even knows what he’s actually done. You aren't surprised to find that he’s oblivious to your realization, instead he’s leaned over his desk, sorting through papers and mumbling something to himself, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t feel a little betrayed by the fact.

Because, held in your own hands, shredded up into a reused bag from your grocery store, is the stupidest decision you think Kuroo has ever made. It tops the time in college he only ate mac and cheese for two weeks, it’s above every time he blacked out and made you take care of him and his awful hangovers the next day, it’s even above all the times he proposed to you with no real plan, just popping the question to think, hey, maybe you’ll say yes this time.

“Kuroo,” you start, and he hums, eyes meeting yours for a quick moment before returning to his papers. “Did you shred our marriage certificate?”

Kuroo stills. He turns, sending a rush of air out of his lips and clicking his tongue while he leans back against his desk.

“No.” The ‘o’ is drawn out, accompanied by the shake of his head. “No, that would be a stupid idea, right?”

“Right.” Your voice is steady, your tongue running against the back of your teeth. “That would be very stupid.”

“Yeah, exactly, so I definitely did not do-” He pauses, smacking his lips together- “that.”

And you could kill him. In cold blood, right here, you could become a murderer in your own home. You won’t (you’ll think about it until the day he dies), you would never. What you do, however, is drop the bag with the shreds of paper in it, sending cheap confetti (or in this case, cheap confetti mixed with confetti that accompanied the cost of a several thousand dollar wedding), flying through the air and scattering along the office floor.

You put your head into your hands, smoothing out creases that are beginning to form in your skin, and against everything in your chest, you yell.

“Why?”

You look up from your hands to see Kuroo biting at his lip and slowly gesturing. you swear you can see the gears turning in his head.

“So, you know how you love me? Like, a lot?”

No, you think.

“Yeah, sure,” you reply, voice a little hardened, tone a little flat.

“So, I was thinking,” He starts to move towards you, still gesturing wildly as he keeps trying to explain, “that you only really need marriage certificates for divorce, right? And we’re never getting divorced, so there’s definitely no need for that to be around.”

And Kuroo, your husband, the one who asks you to tie his ties in the morning and stumbles around the kitchen because he never learned to cook properly, the one who read over your every paper in college and reads over your every story now, is also the only one of this Earth who could ever make you feel this kind of anger. It’s the kind of anger that you can feel in your throat, like it's clawing at you and you have to attempt to dispel it with every shaken breath. You do, of course, one in, a second out, until you can finally bear to fully bring your face out of your hands.

“We needed that.” If you say any more, you’re sure you’ll want to yell again, but Kuroo stares at you blankly, his lip still caught between his teeth. “You know, for taxes, health insurance, a mortgage.”

And as if in one final realization, Kuroo nods, eyes a little wider, a breath escaping through his nose.

“Those aren’t like, that important,” He says, and there’s a joking lilt to his voice, but it gets cut off by the tilt of your head, your eyes feeling a little more tired than usual. You stand there staring at each other for a moment, and then in one movement, you stand up, grab the blanket, shake the shreds of paper off of it, and walk towards the door, avoiding the papers like they could be shards of glass.

“That’s it,” you say, “That’s it, I’m going to bed.”

Kuroo goes to follow you, chasing you with the sound of his voice as he says, “Okay, I’ll come with you. You know, I feel like maybe this is something we should talk-”

“Tomorrow.”

“What?”

“We will talk about this tomorrow. I hear the guest bedroom has a very comfortable mattress.”

Kuroo stands in the doorway. For a moment, it looks like he wants to fight you on this, to chase after you up the stairs as though he could make everything perfect with a true love’s kiss, something to break you from whatever curse tonight could be and instead flood you back into what used to be normal married life.

But you're sure he couldn’t possibly know what that would mean at this point. As you ascend the stairs, you see him furrow his brows before turning back into the office. you know, deeply so, that he loves you. That he does these things more out of impulsivity than true stupidity and malice, because he’s always been like this. He’s always been one to stay up late, to do things last minute because there was always something that seemed more interesting going on elsewhere. Or even just that, if a thought ever were to pop into his head, it had to be acted upon. Nearly twenty proposals later—most done in the midst of disaster, when you had flour in your hair or dirt in your knees—you should know better than to think anything is out of malice.

But you know that doesn’t stop him from making stupid decisions. It really never has. So though you feel a pang of guilt as you cross the threshold from the hallway into your bedroom, you can’t say that it stops you from crawling into bed. It doesn’t stop you from drowning yourself in the drenched moonlight of linen sheets. It doesn’t stop you from placing your back against the pillows that Kuroo placed there. It doesn’t stop you from closing your eyes and, in an instant, falling back to sleep.

But you wake up awfully early. It’s to the sound of Kuroo more than it is to the birds, to the feeling of his palm on your shoulder more than it is to the sunlight washing your skin. But still, you wake, squinting your eyes at him as he stands over you, bags dragging down and into the rise of his cheeks, his hair a calmer mess than it was before, but still struck with that feeling of unkempt bedhead.

This early in the morning, with this little sleep in your bones, you almost forget why you’re upset with him. But then you catch the piece of shredded paper that’s caught on the old, oversized t-shirt he won at some bar playing some drinking game, and you feel a pit settle in your stomach. You close your eyes again, take a breath, and then look back up at Kuroo.

“I have a surprise.” His voice is almost a whisper, but there’s an air of excitement that seems to coat each of the syllables. You don't speak, only let him guide you off of your bed and down the stairs. Peanut once again trails behind you, letting both of you know that now is certainly time for his breakfast. After what you’ve been through, he probably deserves it soon.

But you both walk, and Kuroo brings you through the door and into his office once more. You yawn, rubbing your eyes at the way the morning light shines through the window above the desk, but when you open them once more, you find that there’s been a mosaic created along your floors.

Well, maybe mosaic is a bit of a stretch. There’s shredded pieces of paper scattered all along the office, some that have been placed together in groups that seem to make up other documents, but the one that sits in the middle is made entirely of cardstock—with that frilly blue pattern circling the edges, the words ‘MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE’ written out along the top. At the bottom, both of your signatures are put together, and though the lines aren’t perfectly together and you can tell it’s been shredded and forced to rejoin, it’s still the certificate, nevertheless.

“That cannot be valid anymore,” you say, and Kuroo laughs. You glance over and find him leaned back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.

“Oh, definitely not.” He pushes himself off the wall then, stepping over some shredded and half-put-together papers to kneel down, picking up the certificate so now you can see that it’s all been taped together. “But it might make for a fun memento.”

“You know, as much as I really love a good memento-” Kuroo rolls his eyes at you, he knows well enough that you hate souvenirs, always have, and don’t dare let him try to buy you something no matter the occasion. He usually does anyway. “-I don’t think a memento can put me under your health insurance.”

“Health insurance, smealth insurance,” He says with a wave to his hand. He’s met with another glare when he looks back up at you. “I’m kidding! Just like, promise me you won’t get injured for the month it takes us to get the replacement.”

You take in a breath, holding it in your chest while you stare at your husband across the room. He shrugs again while you look at him.

“You are insufferable.”

“You know, I hear some people say that’s my charm.”

Kuroo places the certificate on his desk, trying to prop it up against the wall as it slides back down the desk. He grumbles for a moment before trapping it between the wall and journal, mumbling something about a frame before he turns back to you.

And then you laugh at him. Nothing bright or loud, in fact it’s rather soft, barely taking up more space than a breath would. Instead, it’s the way your face scrunches and the shake of your head that makes everything seem like it’s almost okay.

You are aware of quite a few things in your life, one of which being that paper shredders do, in fact, jam, but one of the other things, and one of the things that you prefer to know, is that a craving for normalcy is hardly ever satisfied. So as you stare at your husband, laughter bubbling up your throat, you figure that you should’ve expected this.

“Okay but if we get the certificate, I have one condition.” you laugh again at the prospect of if, but let Kuroo continue anyway. “You still can’t divorce me.”

“Deal,” you agree, “But only if we call them by nine.”

reblogs and feedback are super appreciated ❤︎

— HQ BOYS + WHAT THEY WEAR

feat. iwaizumi hajime, kuroo tetsurō, miya atsumu, miya osamu, bokuto kōtarō, yaku morisuke, hanamaki takahiro, matsukawa issei

note. this also includes what they smell like. idc if u agree w these. i’m correct. objectively.

IWAIZUMI always smells like sweet tobacco when you get close enough. it mixes with his sweatshirt long enough that when you wear them, it swirls around you in a way that settles deep in your skin. (and, of course, there’s that scent of sea salt that rests on tanned skin. so when he kisses you, you almost swear you can taste it). so in that way, iwa will always remind of you feeling a little younger, of making stupid decisions just for the hell of it, of that first taste of independence that you’ll never get back.

KUROO smells like oak, something that could almost be the scent of leather mixing his skin. he’s strong when he hugs you, all encompassing as his arms find your body, pulling you in until all you know is the material of his shirt—either a flannel or a dress shirt, depends if you’re at a bar or not—and the scent of his cologne. and when he presses the lips to the top of your head, you know that he’s all encompassed by you, too.

ATSUMU smells almost like citrus—bright and sweet enough to pull you in and leave you smiling in his shoulder. he’ll make fun of you every moment he can, teasing you with the lilt of his voice and the bow of his head, but when you meet him with laughter, you find that his own is quick to follow.

OSAMU smells like a deep sandalwood. it’s the kind that buries into you and holds you close, the kind that twists around your whole body like it could keep you there forever. it’s almost warm, low and comforting and kind in a way that could only mean osamu. so when his thumb swipes against your cheek, when it follows the curves of your face, you allowing yourself to be consumed—by all of him.

BOKUTO smells like nutmeg, maybe a little cinnamon if you catch him on an especially good day. it’s the scent of those sweet spices, of something that feels a bit like home and that you know would taste sweet if it were to ever land on your tongue. it’s that mix of sugar and laughter and all things good that comes with bokuto. it’s enough to want him to hold your hand or your waist or whatever he may wish until the days become too long for either of you to stay awake.

YAKU smells like fresh pine, a little youthful in the way he smiles and teases you with every slip of his tongue. he draws you in with that damn taunting gaze, with the way his teeth poke out through that held-back smile, only to leave you with your eyes rolling and laughter threatening your voice. and he loves it. every second of it. so he does it everyday just to hear it over and over again.

HANAMAKI smells a little like acrylic paint—not the part that stings your nose and leaves your eyes watering, no. it’s the sweetness of it, the parts of him that are covered in little bits of red and blue from old art pieces. some days, he smells like the dusting of charcoal, of pen against paper—but no matter what, it’s him and it’s passionate and it’s more than you could ever ask for.

MATSUKAWA smells like clean linens. it’s hardly more than a suggestion of a scent, but when you get close enough—your nose buried in his collar while laughter pricks at his tongue—you can smell it. and it’s something that feels uniquely soft to him, something that you would know if it only passed by the quake of your breath, so it’s enough.

𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐈 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 𝐃𝐎

ft: multiple characters

synopsis: haikyuu boys doing thigh clenching things and making me want to smooch their face with my dior lip glow lip gloss.

content warnings: suggestive so like 17+ i am begging. some of this can also be considered bare minimum for men irl but those standards don’t apply to these kings here.

notes from the author: i keep telling y’all i’m gonna write something original but that’s not gonna happen right at this moment i’m sawri so enjoy this timeless masterpiece 🙏🏽. reblogs, likes, and comments are appreciated as always. but anyways i revamped this and made it better and less age appropriate lol.

— Such a tease oh my fkn god. Likes to say such condescending shit like “mhm really” or “oh yeah?” in that voice (y’all know the one!) and he does it in the most inopportune times. Likes to whisper it in your ear and

MATSUKAWA ISSEI, miya atsumu, SUNA RINTAROU, morisuke yaku, TSUKISHIMA KEI, yūji terushima, futakuchi kenji, kenma kozume

— When he’s hot from like workouts or practice or something he’ll put his shirt between his teeth and rub at his abs. Sweat dripping from his face and dripping onto his chest YES PLEASE. He will smirk if you catches you staring at him like sir you good how can I not stare?!

ARAN OJIRO, oikawa tooru, ATSUMU MIYA, iwaizumi hajime, daichi samamura, tanaka ryūnsoke, KUROO TETSURO, BOKUTO KŌTARŌ

— Always smell good. There has never been a time where you’ve been around him and he hasn’t smelled absolutely amazing. Makes you want to keep your face in his chest forever. 

AKAASHI KEIJI, KITA SHINSUKE, aran ojiro, matsukawa issei, SUGAWARA KŌSHI, ushijima wakatoshi, aone takenobu, osamu miya, yamaguchi tadashi, SAKUSA KIYOOMI

— Wearing his sweatpants really low around the house, the GRAY ones and they’re low enough to where you can see the start of his v-line but high enough to tease you. Like there’s no business he should be walking like a little whore respect yourself!!!

OIKAWA TOORU, tsukishima kei, ATSUMU MIYA, osamu miya, asahi azumane, tendou satori, AKINORI KONOHA

— When you’re talking to him he’ll stare at your lips and then he’ll lick his while smiling, before looking away. Knows exactly what he is doing when he does that and he loves to get you flustered because he’s an asshole.

kuroo tetsuro, MATSUKAWA ISSEI, YŪJI TERUSHIMA, tanaka ryūnsoke, semi eita, takahiro hanamaki, ATSUMU MIYA

— Keeping eye contact with you at all times to make sure you know that he’s listening to you. Will never take his eyes off of you. Sometimes his eyes will drift elsewhere because his mind starts to think about other things but nonetheless a respectful king! So he’ll always direct his attention back to you.

AKAASHI KEIJI, yamaguchi tadashi, semi eita, USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI, suna rintarou, aran ojiro, DAICHI SAWAMURA

— Accessorizing and wearing some type of accessory like a chain or some rings with every single outfit, makes them look very well put together. The RINGS on their fingers omg I’m palpitating.

tanaka ryūnsoke, MATSUKAWA ISSEI, SUNA RINTAROU, kyōtani kentarou, aran ojiro, SEMI EITA, kageyama tobio

— Tapping his hands against the steering wheel while driving, will also reverse with his palm. Also for a little razzle dazzle he NEVER takes his hand off your thigh while he’s driving. He keeps it there and thinks he’s slick when his hand travels but he’s not so.

KUROO TETSURO, tsukishima kei, suna rintarou, SAKUSA KIYOOMI, kenjirō shirabu, goshiki tsutomu, NISHINOYA YŪ, hinata shoyo

— Likes to tilt your chin up and give you a peck when you’re mad at him. Or he’ll come up behind you and give you little kisses on your neck and stuff and will probably be like “lemme make it up to you baby?” and it’s just like ILL NEVER GET MAD AT YOU AGAIN SEXY!!!

SUNA RINTAROU, MATSUKAWA ISSEI, atsumu miya, takahiro hanamaki, kuroo tetsurō

kurapika's top 10 aries moment

okay but kuroo having a baby brother because his dad got married again and had another kid with his new wife and they look so much alike and they're like besties and he buys him personalized volleyball jerseys and always brings him along to the national team's games 🥺 and the boys are probably obsessed with him and he thinks they're the funniest bros ever and its just soft and cute and urgh i want kuroo tetsuro to father my children so bad

Omg I’ve been binge reading your headcanons these last couple of days and I am absolutely I’m love with your writing!! There was just an idea that popped into my head, can I request the haikyuu boys scolding their pregnant s/o as they caught them doing something they definitively shouldn’t do, for example climb a high chair or shelf to reach something? I am in my baby fever feels 🥺🥺 with iwaizumi, suna, atsumu kuroo and whoever you like 🥰

scolding their pregnant s/o for doing something “dangerous”

↳ timeskip!iwaizumi, suna, atsumu, kuroo, kita

↳ a/n : stoppp omg tysm i’m so happy so hear that!! <333 apparently i’m on a baby fever roll too so here you go my dear nonnie😽 and thanks again!

↳ CLICK HERE FOR PART 2!

 — IWAIZUMI

“you seriously thought i wouldn’t catch you disobeying me?” he rhetorically asks when he sees you trying to get off of the counter as soon as you hear his footsteps in the corridor. obviously he doesn’t just stay there with his arms crossed but instead tells you to hold on to his arms to help you get down. surprisingly enough, he doesn’t really scold you for your recklessness... and you understand why the next day. it’s only 7am and morning sickness is what wakes you up, but you only get out of bed after realizing iwa isn’t next to you. and clearly you didn’t expect to see him sitting in the kitchen surrounded by wooden planks and metallic tools. “what?” he asks in front of your surprised expression, then explains himself very naturally: “these shelves are obviously out of reach for you, i have to rebuild them”

— SUNA

he knows you want to prove that you’re still capable of doing everything you used to do; and that’s why, after grabbing what you needed on the shelf, he has no choice but to threaten you in his own way: “if i ever catch you doing this kind of shit again, no more belly rubs for you, understood?”. but in fact he did catch you ‘doing this shit again’ a few days later... and your belly was still thoroughly rubbed that same evening. sat between his legs with a satisfied smile spread on your lips, you watched him point a finger at your belly: “now listen up, little one” he started with a very serious tone “don’t you dare be a stubborn baby, because i won’t be able to handle two of you... i can barely handle one”. chuckling at his words, you laid your head on his shoulder and grabbed his hand to put it back on your belly, “don’t worry, i think you handle me perfectly well, rin”

— ATSUMU

unlike iwaizumi, it’s through words that atsumu calmly communicates you his concern. “BABY WHAT’RE YA DOIN’??! ARE YA OUT OF YER MIND? WHAT IF TSUMU JUNIOR GETS HURT, HUH?”. but as soon as he sees you trying to get off that chair on your own, he runs to you with his arms stretched out in front of him. “for the last time, we’re not calling our baby tsumu junior” you reprimand him as he carefully carries you to the couch, where he sits down to put your legs on his lap. “but think about it!” he exclaims, “that way ya won’t ever have to say ‘i love ya’ to someone whose name isn’t atsumu...”. you roll your eyes, amused, and point out that he seems to have already thought everything through. and his answer is the same as usual: “well what else’m i supposed to think about if it’s not the two of ya?”

— KUROO

suddenly this smart mouth loses the ability to string more than two words together: “wow- wait! wha-hold up, don’t- you shouldn’t-”. in other terms, he’s panicking. “relax, tetsu. i’m ok” you try to calm him down as he carries you to help you get down from that chair with a worried look in his eyes. “what’s the point of having a tall husband if you’re still trying to reach the shelves on your own?!” he asks after making sure you’re safe and sound. hearing that, you flash him a smile that you know he won’t be able to resist, before wrapping your arms tightly around his waist: “this”. and you were right, as much as he’s still upset about what just happened, he really can’t resist that smile. “ok you got me there”, he chuckles, but promises himself to actually lecture you after the hug...

— KITA

a single glare from kita is enough to make you understand that you’re in trouble. big time. but as usual he doesn’t even raise his voice, which might even be worse... “what did i tell ya?” he asks once you have both feet on the floor. at first you don’t think that he actually expects an answer, but he absolutely does. so you give it to him, almost reciting it by heart: “if you ever need something, call me before doing anything stupid”. he nods approvingly, but you still feel the need to defend yourself, telling him that you didn’t want to bother him while he was busy outside. “whatever it is that i’m doin’ outside, it can’t be more important than not lettin’ ya get hurt”, he replies before outstretching his arm to grab two chocolate bars on the shelf: “i guess this is what ya wanted?”, he asks in a softer tone before putting them in your hand with a gentle smile. “you know me too well shin”, you mirror his smile, placing a quick peck on his lips.

TAGLIST : @toworuu @catwithangerissues @ughgojo @livy384 @k0u-minamo2 @fullsundear @hsjvwq @cubbluv @hiraeth-z @velvetvirgos @kirishimas-manly-eyeliner @47meow @japanesevenom @geektastic84 @noir-blanches-blog @idontlikeyourjob @seiri-ami @atiny-grl-with-luv @admiringlove @nachotrash @kellesvt @aintyourholy @Moonlaeli @catchmewiddershins @duhsies @devilgirlcrybabiey @crystal-lilac @ijustwantfreenetflix @miw0 @maitenight @xomiya @shoyotime @borealis-tristesse @lilliansis @succulentmom

GIVE ME FIXING EACH OTHER’S CLOTHES WITH KUROO RIGHT NOW 😨‼️ love u hehe <3 if u don’t want kuroo please do whoever u would like most :)

ofc ofc anything for u my love <33 - "fixing each other's clothes" w kuroo **suggestive!!

if you were to tell this story to anyone else, you'd say he's not normally like this. that kuroo is always professional and kind and that he would never dare to act like this—never. but that's not true, never would be true, because the way his breath fades into your own and the way he bites at your lips in the dark corners of this work event is entirely too familiar to you.

there's a distant call of his name, but he's too busy slipping the strap of your dress down your shoulder to ever notice, laughter pricking at ever kiss he presses to the skin there.

"kuroo," you whisper, and you can feel him smile against you, "kuroo."

he looks up at you now, the first button of his shirt is undone, his hair a bit messier than it was a moment before, and just a little bit of lipstick smeared across his mouth.

"we need to head back," you say, and he rolls his eyes, leaning back down to press another kiss to your collarbone, but you tug back on his collar, pulling him up until his eyes meet yours. "and fix you."

"that's a very long process, babe," he says, laughing when you swat at his chest and start buttoning his shirt back up. "you're no fun, you know that?"

"i'm plenty fun when your boss isn't looking for you."

he sighs, lolling his head back as your fingers trail over his collar and set it back into place.

"my boss can suck my di-"

"ah, nope, not here. you can't get fired today."

"yeah, yeah, whatever," he replies, and then leans down to you for the last time, pulling the strap back up your shoulder (but carefully trailing kisses in its wake anyway).

send me prompts from this list for a drabble !

sunarin + hiding their face in the other's neck 🙇‍♀️

you told him you didn't want to watch this movie. "but it'll be fine," he said. "you know it's fake blood, don't you?"

fake blood or not, the movie's 'killer' hopping out of the shadows was enough for you to hug rintaro against your chest, torso fully turned toward him instead of the tv. you clenched your jaw, heart racing, as you curled into his chest which, suspiciously...

"were you waiting for me to get scared?" you gasp.

you earned yourself a side-eye from your boyfriend. the very same boyfriend whose arm wrapped around you the second you shuffled closer, who rolled his shoulders until you leaned your head against him.

guilty is what that looks like to you, and his unwillingness to admit it convinces you.

"you were," you pressed, jabbing him in the side with your elbow. "you're so mean; scaring me just so i'd cuddle you."

"you're missing the movie," he complains half-heartedly, but he's already turning toward you to poke your nose. "and you're not that scared."

"i'm plenty scared."

"yeah? prove it then."

as if on queue, a character in the movie screams and you gasp again; this time, it's not to tease rintaro, but because your stomach jumps into your throat and you jump into your boyfriend's lap.

breathlessly, you swat at him. he dodges, because of course he does. "you planned this."

with his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, now, rintaro buries his face in your neck, and you feel a smile against your skin. "yes i did."

send an ask with a number from this list + a hq character and i’ll write a snippet!

best boy yamaguchi deserves a whole series of zookeeper merch for him only!! 🐧🐼🦒🦁🧡

miya atsumu x reader, 4.3k

A tale of Atsumu's descent into madness when he realises you're hot.

a/n: hello ! is this a repost because of tags and my mistakes? yes T_T anyway — this is still dedicated to @augustinewrites because she is a smart, educated queen and im very proud of her. like i said before, i sacrificed so much to write this because putting myself into the mind of a libra man…. yikes. i felt insane at one point. but i hope you enjoy! <3

Atsumu is sitting in your room half drunk, half sober. The room is still spinning, and he’s not sure whether he wants to projectile vomit on your carpeted floor or pass out from exhaustion.

“Tsumu!” you say, pushing your phone against his face. “Do you think I look hot in this?”

“No.” he answers without thinking. You pout aggressively, plopping down onto the couch beside him. He doesn’t deserve to be harassed about some scandalous picture of yours right now for two reasons:

One, it’s like half past one in the morning and that’s the time of night when he should be tucked into bed, snoring to his heart’s content.

Two, because it’s you and he’d rather die than call you hot to your face.

“You didn’t even look!” you wave your phone, and Atsumu turns his face to the side hoping you will simply disappear if he pretends you’re not there.

It doesn’t work. All it does is give you the opportunity to poke at his sides and pester him even more. He closes his eyes, “Why do you need my opinion? You literally do the same peace sign in each photo you take. And according to you, you always look good.”

“I do,” you reply, relentlessly poking at his shoulder, “but I need an expert’s opinion.”

Well. Atsumu would know something about looking good.

He sighs loudly, turning to face you once again. Prior experience says it’s better to give in now, because he was going to give up later anyway. “Alright, show me.”

You move to rest your cheek on his shoulder and hand him your phone.

Atsumu rests his head on a pillow behind him and squints at the screen, trying to see the picture better. When he does, the shock of what he’s seeing causes his fingers to go slack and the phone smacks him in the face.

“Idiot.” you laugh, reaching out to pat his nose. It doesn’t soothe the humiliation he feels nor does it alleviate the sudden racing of his heart. What the fuck?

“So? Do you think I look hot in it?” you ask again.

Atsumu swallows, as he looks at it again. It’s a photo of you at the gym, hair tied back neatly. It’s a simple photo really. You’re wearing simple black leggings and a sports bra he’s seen you wear before of all things.

And yet, the universe still feels unbalanced.

With horror, it dawns on him that it’s because you do look good in the photo.

Okay, it’s not like he thought you were ugly or plain looking before, but you looked good, in a cute kind of way usually. Not like, good good. Not, uh, hot.

When the hell did you start looking hot?

You grab the phone back, analyzing the picture again. “You’re speechless. That means I look amazing. I’m going to share it with the others so they can either sleep well tonight or wake up tomorrow to a good start.”

Atsumu lightly smacks your shoulder, because he was not speechless. “Shut up, I was just shocked. Is that supposed to be a thirst trap?”

You sniff. “I don’t do thirst traps like you.”

“My fans love them,” Atsumu argues. “Are you saying my thousands of followers are wrong? Are you saying they have bad taste?”

You copy him, and he simply shoves you to the other side of the couch, throwing him a look of betrayal. “You don’t look hot in the photo,” he says, “you didn’t even get the right angle.”

You frown, looking like that one very sad emoji, and it tugs at his heart. Ugh. He backtracks, “I mean, that angle is still fine! It’s about the vibe, okay? And you do look good. It’s a nice picture, Y/N.”

“But I want to look hot.” you lament.

Atsumu looks you dead in the eye, and smiles, like a liar, “Take better pictures next time then.”

You stand up, picking up the cushions on the floor. “I’m going to get ready for bed. Feel free to leave soon, because I won’t be here to entertain you any longer.” you announce, still frowning, and Atsumu pulls you back until the force of it has you sitting back down.

“Should I teach you how to look hot?” He asks, teasingly poking at your cheeks. “You should have asked me from the very start.”

You grumble, but let him give you a few pointers. Although at the end, you complain, “That only works because you’re a guy!”

“Try it first.” he says, pushing you to stand up again. You say a lot of things, but you listen well in the end.

When you disappear into the bathroom, he decides to leave and head back to his own dorm a few floors down, calling out a goodbye. When he finally gets settled into his own bed, he plays ten levels to candy crush to dissociate himself from the possibility of gaining further realizations.

Just as he’s about to complete his last level, he gets a notification from the Inarizaki group chat.

Suna: Holy shit, is that Y/N?

It’s a screenshot from Instagram of the selfie you showed him, with the caption, sweet dreams [kissy face].

He looks at it for a good five minutes, feeling unspeakable things, before saving it onto his own camera roll.

.

.

.

Sleeping it off did not help. Atsumu decides he needs to be lobotomized.

Ever since you had shown him that gym selfie, he couldn’t stop seeing it.

(The idea that you were hot, not the selfie, he wants to emphasize. Although, he was also seeing your picture all the time, because well… it was saved onto his phone, so every time he took his own pictures, he would see it. And well… if you look at something enough times, it becomes imprinted in your eyeballs, and you see it even when you close your eyes. Or something like that. Don’t judge him.)

You meet him in a cafe nearby for breakfast and greet him a sleepy good morning, and Atsumu’s brain immediately goes, hot.

You sigh in frustration at the library while you’re trying to study for an exam. Atsumu asks if you want to take a break, but you get this fiery dead set look in your eyes and say, no let’s keep going. Also hot.

You’re eating at a korean barbeque place for dinner and take the grilling tongs from him when he gets smoke in his eyes to flip the meat for him. Really, really hot. It’s alarming because it’s not the first time you’ve done that for him, but it is the first time Atsumu’s found it hot.

Once is a farce, twice is a coincidence, thrice is a pattern, and more than that? It’s a fact.

Atsumu finds you really hot. Cue [throwing up emoji].

But that’s not even the worst thing about it. Atsumu’s clearly not the only one.

He brings it up to Osamu first, wanting the company of someone who has been friends with you for the same amount of time to back him up on the ‘you are not hot’ agenda (fuck off, he can’t think of a clever name right now). He rocks up to his twin who’s on his way to the next class.

He offers him an onigiri he bought from the 7/11 down the street, and casually says, “Did you see Y/N’s picture in the group chat?”

“Huh?” he asks, a little absent-mindedly. Osamu doesn’t even take the onigiri he was being offered. “Y/N’s picture?”

“Yeah, did you see it?”

“The one Suna sent into the groupchat?” Osamu asks. “Yeah I saw, what about it?”

There’s no way to ask the question easily, but to just be blunt about it. Atsumu blurts out, “Do you think she looks hot in it?”

Osamu looks at him for the first time, just a quick little side eye, before he continues walking, “Is this another one of your weird competitions? If so, tell me now so I can mute my phone before you guys start blowing up my phone with messages.”

Atsumu is offended and tells him, “I cannot believe you think that I would participate in such a, such a—” he couldn’t say the word.

“Childish game?” Osamu smirks. “This is why you need to read more books by the way; your vocabulary is failing. Also, you guys literally sent a poll into the main Inarizaki group chat the other day asking who had the best outfit of the day. Even Kita-san saw it.”

Atsumu huffs, “I can’t believe he voted for Y/N.”

Osamu stops as he reaches the front door of his next class, leaning against the wall to properly look at his twin. Osamu smiles, “She did look good. Y/N’s getting prettier these days.”

“Pretty isn’t hot.”

“Hot is subjective.” Osamu says solemnly, “But to answer your question, yeah, she did look hot. Why?”

Atsumu smacks him, “You’re supposed to say she doesn’t look hot!”

Osamu hits him back, “You want me to lie? I’m only saying what anyone with eyes can see.”

“You’re biased. This is because you guys are close.” Atsumu reasons.

“Actually,” Osamu corrects, because he hates Atsumu with all his guts, “Since we’re close I’m more inclined to say she doesn’t look hot. But it doesn’t bother me, because it’s just another fact of life, you know?”

No, Atsumu doesn’t know. Also, “What the hell do you mean anyone with eyes can see? I just found out yesterday—”

“Oh,”, Osamu realises, “Is that why you’re acting like this? Because you finally found her hot? You’re literally the last one.”

The situation just keeps getting worse. What do you mean Atsumu is late to the discovery? What do you mean people have been looking at you like a hot piece of ass all this time? It simply can’t be true. Atsumu’s powers of observation was like, Avenger-level.

But when he asks Suna, the guy doesn’t even think anything of the question and answers, “Of course she’s hot. This is old news.”

Atsumu feels like he’s just been shot in the foot.

And when he goes to ask Aran, he finds that he doesn’t even need to ask at all. Because when he finds him, he’s sitting across from you in the library taking a break while watching you write notes. He’s drinking water, but his eyes are focused on you and all Atsumu can see is appreciation in it.

He feels like he’s been shot again. This time in the back. Which is kind of dramatic, he knows, but how else is he supposed to express the feeling burning in his body. Everyone has betrayed him.

How could nobody tell him? More importantly, how did he not know? He feels woozy.

He goes to make ramen for himself. Comforts himself by looking at his own selfies. He’s mid-slurp when he’s scrolling through the gallery and it brings him back to the cursed picture.

The noodles go down the wrong way, and he manages to close his phone just in time. Just so on the off chance he dies because of your selfie, his dignity will remain intact. The headlines will say, Legend taken too soon.

Unfortunately, he survives the ordeal and will now have to deal with the fact that you’re hot for the rest of his life.

.

.

.

It is now day fifty post ‘Y/N is hot’ realization and maybe there’s still hope for him.

He’s alive. Adapting. On some days, he could even say he’s thriving.

First things first, he deleted your picture from his phone. Second of all—

Well, he hasn’t found a number two yet. It’s alright. He’s always number one for a reason. He doesn’t need a number two. He’s not making any fucking sense.

But here’s something that makes sense: in order to get used to you being hot now, he’s decided that he should just look at you more. The more he looks, the more his eyes get used to the sight, you know?

A pretty sound theory, if you ask him. Except, everyone else keeps catching on and now Suna has enough ammunition to use against him for at least a year.

Like, the last time the Inarizaki group met up and had dinner together, he had become hypnotized by how soft your lips looked and completely ignored everyone else’s conversations. You were too busy complaining about one of your classes to notice.

Or that one time you went to his dorm for a movie night, and he realised how good you smelled as he sat next to you on his bed, and you were too preoccupied by the actual movie to see him subtly leaning closer and closer.

Or even that one time it was his birthday and you had baked him a cake (Osamu got a store bought one heh), and he forgot all about blowing the candles when he was too distracted watching you sing happy birthday to him.

All Atsumu has to say is that, thank god you’re an idiot.

He posts a couple of hot selfies to his instagram that day for an ego boost and calls it a day.

He chuckles to himself. He’s healing.

.

.

.

Atsumu’s feeling more at peace these days.

He’s moved on to the next step of his self-healing process which is… revenge.

Quite frankly, it’s not right that he’s paying this much attention to you, while you just happily skip through life as if everything’s okay. It’s kinda fucked up, if you ask him. You’re out here thinking about silly things like what you should have for lunch (curry, obviously), when you should be out here thinking about him.

So now you’ve forced him to take matters into his own hands and right this wrong. Seeking justice for innocent victims such as himself, if you will.

He spots you from across the room, giggling at something on your phone. It better be his newly posted selfie you’re giggling over. If not, it’s a declaration of war; it took him like, two hours to get the right angle and lighting.

“Hey,” he says, sitting down next to you. Very cool. “What are you up to?”

You hum happily next to him, “Talking to my friend. Kenji sent me a funny meme.”

Earth-shattering. Atsumu almost regrets choosing to take a drink of water then because he almost spits it out. “You’re texting Kenji?”

You smile, “Yep.”

“But he’s your ex!” Atsumu doesn’t understand.

“Yeah, but he’s also my friend.” You explain, unbothered. “I’m friends with a lot of my exes actually.”

“What?” Atsumu is dumbfounded. He’s here suffering because of you, while you’re happily reconnecting with trash?

This is one of the most insane things he’s heard all year. You beckon him closer and show him a group photo of you and at least three of your exes or friends or whatever the fuck they are, with arms slung around each other.

Anyway. “Cute.” Atsumu comments, “do you guys also get together and trade dating stories?”

You narrow your eyes. “Okay, you’re one to talk when your friends from the team are so…”

“So what?” he challenges. Slutty, his own mind supplies, but it would be funny to hear you say it.

“Listen,” you say as you put your phone down and look at him intently. “I’m just saying, my friends are nice; like sheep. Your friends, who I’ve known since high school and hang out with constantly, are like lions. They could eat me.”

Atsumu stares at your cute little face and thinks, I could eat you. “Is that your rationale for why you’re friends with all of your exes? Aren’t you afraid it'll get weird because you know, you’ve done stuff with them?”

Atsumu doesn’t know why he can’t let it go. Or why he says that, because now he’s just thinking of you doing those kinds of things with your exes. It’s not jealousy that’s bubbling up in his chest. Definitely not.

“It’s not weird,” you defend, “it actually makes it easier when I see them at parties.”

Atsumu narrows his eyes, “Makes it easier to do what?”

You blush, much to his discontent. “Don’t ask me what, Tsumu! I don’t ask you what you do every time you disappear to the bathroom before games and come out destressed.”

“What are you insinuating?” he asks, jabbing at your side. You yelp, trying to move away, “I literally go there to play candy crush in peace where nobody can bother me.”

“Yeah right.” you go to kick him at the same time he leans down and hit him straight in the face.

Atsumu is so stunned by it, he freezes, hands clutching at his nose. You look at him horrified, starting to panic, “Oh my god, did I break it? Is it bleeding? Oh fuck I’m sorry! Tsumu say something! Are you mad at me? Tsumuuu—”

Atsumu stands up, doesn’t say anything because he doesn’t have it in him and goes to the bathroom to inspect his nose. He should have gotten his nose insured or something, because dammit it’s one of his best features. And now, it might be gone forever.

He’s pretty horrified to find that his nose is okay. In fact, it looks more perfect than ever. But if he didn’t lose his nose, then why the hell does he still feel like he’s lost something.

.

.

.

Atsumu is spiralling, but only on the inside. He watched Frozen for the first time the other day and now he keeps repeating conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them show out loud as a coping mechanism. He’s grateful that it’s nearly Christmas time so he has an excuse every time somebody looks at him weird.

But the discovery that he likes you makes him pissy.

Not because he doesn’t want to like you like that. It’s a comforting realization actually. He was having a crisis about his sexuality and thought that maybe he was fruity. His homophobic grandfather was probably rolling around in his grave at the mere idea of it.

But alas, he is as straight as a pencil. And how he came to that conclusion you ask? You wore a top that showed a bit of cleavage one day and he immediately had to run to the bathroom and take three deep breaths.

He thought he had long forgone his puberty years but you were just a different breed. He was so disappointed in himself.

The reason he’s pissy is because he can’t believe he missed all the signs pointing towards his feelings for you. How long has he even liked you? When he looks back, all he sees is a long chain of happy memories, each one linked together with fondness and affection.

Maybe all he needs to do is accept the fact that you’re attractive, and attractive people like you, well, they never stay single for long.

Despite him not realizing his own feelings, his brain has been signalling this fact to him, encouraging him to get a move on, before some other hot guy swoops in. Or worse, one of your exes swoops in.

(Cough, Kenji, cough.)

He needs to secure your ass. The longer he waits, the more chances he gives other men. That’s why he’s so mad actually, while he was out here thinking about how toned Kita-san’s body had gotten recently, other men were ogling his woman. Other men are making you laugh, taking care of you.

Sue Atsumu’s competitive ass, but he doesn’t want to be second to anyone in your heart. He’s number one or nothing.

So he decided to confess immediately, because he’s already wasted enough time.

The problem is, the moment he decides this is the same moment you decide that you want him to die of annoyance first. And then suddenly, it doesn’t feel so urgent for Atsumu to confess his feelings.

It’s important to teach you a lesson first.

It culminates at Inarizaki’s Christmas dinner get together, held at Osamu’s studio which actually has a big enough kitchen to feed everyone. You try his patience on today of all days; teasing him about his roots that have grown out too long, poking at his shoulder before running away, throwing peanuts at him every so often.

Atsumu sees who he’s sitting next to at the table, and already knows that it’s only downhill from there. He can’t even get a cup of coke without you pretending to pour him some before taking it away.

And then, there was the whole stressful debate on mint chocolate ice cream over the table while he was trying to enjoy his meal. You didn’t even understand the question, too fixated on your dislike of anything mint flavoured, raging with a fork in your hand as you screamed at Suna over the table. (How did he ever fall for someone so insane?)

Atsumu loves mint chocolate but as soon as you say you wouldn’t date anyone who likes mint chocolate, his mind is made. Mint chocolate be damned because it could never give him the same happiness that being with you would. Besides, no other person is allowed to feed you ice cream, if it's not him alright? Case fucking closed.

After that whole thing, Osamu pulls his chair away as he goes to sit down and he falls backwards, like an idiot.

There’s so many other misfortunate things that happen, and on days like this, when shit keeps happening, you begin to resign yourself to the fact that anything may as well happen.

Which is the moment Atsumu lets his guard down.

He doesn’t know what the fuck Suna put in the juice, but it doesn’t matter. Once the music started playing, what always happens, happened. Atsumu loses his mind.

His body literally moves on its own. One minute he’s talking to Kita vibing, and the next he’s doing the jerk while Osamu and Suna hype him up and take a video. (He’ll regret it in the morning, but not now).

The worst part of it all? He’s blowing you kisses every five seconds. It doesn’t register in his mind that it might look weird, because he’s too busy having fun and trying to keep you quiet, nothing more.

And then later, he finds himself on the floor, out of breath after he puts on the performance of a lifetime: as Elsa from Frozen.

Everyone else is kind of concerned. Well, some of them. He thinks he hears Kita asking “Is Elsa okay?”

No, Kita-san, he wants to say, Elsa is going through it right now.

He can feel eyes on him, so he turns his head, and sure enough you’re sitting there watching him with a fond smile on your face.

Elsa is completely fucked.

.

.

.

A few hours later, when Atsumu’s soul has returned back to his body and shame from earlier has sunk in, he decides it’s time to go home. He is not staying here and allowing Samu to bully him into cleaning the mess when he has better things to do.

He walks you to your dorm, like the gentleman he is, and goes to leave when you suddenly invite him in. Not a single cell in his body wants to say no so he happily goes inside and makes himself comfortable on the couch.

“You looked like you had a good time today.” you tease, sitting beside him.

He feels his cheeks heat up, pushing away every memory of tonight before it can occupy too much space in his brain.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t remember all the kisses you sent me?”

“Shut up!” he groans before assaulting you with tickles to shut you up.

You squeal in delight, pushing his hands away as he climbs on top of you and laughs, sounding deranged. In a way, he’s got you right where he wants you.

“Stop!” After a few more digs as revenge for driving him crazy, he finally decides to take pity on you and stops, letting you catch your breath.

“You drive me crazy, Y/N.” he says, sounding sappy as he closes his eyes and leans his head back, missing how you turn to face him.

“If it helps, you drive me crazy too.”

It’s music to Atsumu’s ears.

He opens his eyes and turns to face you too. “I do?”

You roll your eyes, which would be irritating if you weren’t so pretty. “All the time. You’re so annoying, always teasing me that I thought I was gonna lose my mind. I was like, why does this stupid boy always target me? Does he not realize how much I like him—”

Now it was Atsumu’s turn to roll his eyes but it was getting harder and harder to fight the smile bursting onto his face, “Come on, you’ve always been the annoying one—”

“Actually, you start it most of the time,” you snort, cutting him off. “But honestly Tsumu, if you wanted my attention there’s better ways of getting it.”

Atsumu doesn’t know whether to continue his prior assault or kiss you.

Instead, he decides to take the challenge in your last words. “Is that so?” he says, breathy, his hands starting to roam all over your body, starting with the curve of your hips, until it rests on your waist. “Are you going to show me?”

You whimper and he laughs, feeling both adoration and vindication in his chest. You’re flushing red in embarrassment, an emotion he didn’t even think you were capable of feeling. “You’re so infuriating—”

Atsumu cups your cheek, “You’re so hot when you’re trying to be angry at me,” and then kisses you so eagerly that neither of you have any brain cells left to say anything afterwards.

Well, you do say one more thing. “So you did think I looked hot in that selfie—”

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

𝗛𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗦𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗟 𝗖𝗥𝗨𝗦𝗛!!!!!

↳ what it'd be like if the hq boys had a crush on you!

characters: kageyama tobio, semi eita, toru oikawa, miya osamu, kuroo tetsuro, akaashi keij, suna rintaro

warnings: fluff!! swearing here and there :) slight rivals to lovers in suna!

a/n: I WAS ABOUT TO NOT INCLUDE SUNA BUT MY WHORE INSTINCTS TOOK OVER THIS IS SO SHAMEFUL. thinkin about making a pt 2 with other characters but omg this took forever. hate to toot my own horn, but i kinda went off... (kags might be a bit ooc,,, but i think that's on me, not him </3)

poor, precious kageyama tobio who is so clueless in matters of love and how to 'woo' someone (that's the word his mother used when he asked), that he resorted to ask the members of the volleyball club.

the only useful advice kageyama tobio got was from sugawara, asahi and daichi, who told him to 'just be himself', because even though he's 'prickly on the edges', he's naturally a kind and reassuring person.

kageyama tobio who tries his best to spend as much time as possible with you, whether it be asking to tag along with you everywhere- to the school office, to the vending machines, to your locker, etc. it's the little moments that really count to him.

kageyama tobio who gets flustered whenever hinata, tanaka or nishinoya teases him about his little crush on you before telling them to 'shut up, idiot!' when they jokingly say 'man up and grow some balls!'

when you offer to study with him during exam season, kageyama tobio turns into a blushing mess, stammering over his words as he tries his best to get out a 'yes please, i would appreciate that a lot!'.

kageyama tobio, who you're still scared of a little sometimes because he's got that towering height to him and a stern appearance, but you're reminded of just how dorky and awkward he really is and it brings a smile to your face.

kageyama tobio, who's gone to the vending machine so many times with you that he knows your favourite drinks and snacks, listening to you muttering about which option you'd want. he buys it for you sometimes and he insists that he doesn't need repayment as he waves your complaints off by sipping on his carton of milk.

kageyama tobio knows your birthday and always makes an effort to bring it up whenever it's the week before to let you know that he remembers.

he saves any photos you have together because even kageyama tobio doesn't really enjoy looking at pictures of himself, it's worth saving it as his phone home screen because you're in it- and he won't change the home screen for months- years even.

kageyama tobio who is actually really funny and has a good sense of humour that he effortlessly makes you laugh.

you offer your headphones to kageyama tobio when he asks you what you're listening to, and he's so silent as well that you think he might secretly dislike your music taste until the next time he approaches you and asks to share earphones.

kageyama tobio, who doesn't realise you're at one of his games until you're running down from the stands and congratulating him, bringing him into a huge hug that makes him short circuit. 'this is nice' he thinks as he finally gets the hint from hinata to hug you back, the affectionate gesture of you making the effort to come and actually watch him play makes him feel warm, and he prays you can't feel how fast his heart is beating.

kageyama tobio, who ALMOST confessed to you on total accident, because he actually sent you a love song (that you've listened to many times before) and told you it reminds him of you.

you jokingly ask kageyama tobio whether if not he likes you or something, followed by an emoji so he knows you're kidding (because he's actually quite clueless about your sarcasm through text and needs indicators), and he almost falls off his bed.

kageyama tobio ACTUALLY confessing after one of his volleyball games, when he's still high on adrenaline and excitement over the victory that he can't help but tell you.

kageyama tobio who hears the cheers of his friends when you accept his date offer and doesn't even have the heart to tell the volleyball club members to 'shut the fuck up!' when you reach up to his cheek to place a kiss there.

semi eita, who's the sweetest boy you could possibly have a crush on, and if he liked you back? you've struck gold.

semi eita, who leans his ear down to hear you if the room is too loud, and if that doesn't work, he tells everyone else around him to 'shut up' so he can listen to you successfully.

semi eita, who huffs in amusement when you draw on his skin and you stop, thinking he doesn't like it, but he compliments the little smiley face you've drawn and you beam at him, your smile making him internally panic just a little. he draws a matching smiley face on your hand.

his features make his gaze look naturally intense and determined and he's aware of how this might scare some people, but with you, semi eita tries to look as gentle as possible, because he doesn't want to scare you off.

semi eita who shares his food with you, but rejects anyone else who tries to take some as well.

semi eita, who doesn't realise that he's doing this, but mentally makes a note of things that remind him of you. that bouquet outside the florist he just walked past? the colour scheme reminded him of you. the specific scent of a candle? he thinks you'd like it. an outfit he saw someone wear? he can hear you gush about it.

he's an incredible listener, but semi eita always has something to add to the conversation and it's easy to keep talking with him.

when he got your number, semi eita unconsciously added a heart emoji next to it before deleting it and mentally scolding himself.

semi eita, who freaked out when you laid your head on his shoulder on purpose since you were so tired, but as you went to sit back straight, semi smiled and told you you could take a nap on him if you wanted. now it was your turn to freak out as you mentally remembered his offer.

semi eita, who was relentlessly teased by tendou when you actually fell asleep on his shoulder next time.

after that, semi eita isn't as shy about physical contact- granted, he still asks for permission, but he'll take your hand in his without realising. first time he did so, you were incredibly flustered and when he notices that he's holding your hand, he also becomes incredibly flustered. it's a mess because you're both spluttering words, flushed in the face.

you've definitely compared hand sizes together and semi eita loves it so much that he just does it whenever, smirking at the difference.

gestures of affection occur naturally. it's common for semi eita to greet you with a welcoming hug when he sees you at the start of the day, you'll hold on to his shoulder to get his attention and he'll drape his arm over your shoulder when you're walking somewhere.

it's so natural, that when you and semi eita start dating, you immediately are comfortable with each other's bodies (not even in any suggestive way, you've just traced the lines on his palms so many times.)

semi eita has written songs about you before and only showed them to you when you started dating.

semi eita who makes you so effortlessly happy that you're bursting at the seems with love for him. you'd be happy to know that he feels the same way, wondering what good deed he did in a previous life to have you now.

oikawa tooru, who searches every room he enters, hoping that maybe you're in the same one. when he finds you, he yells your name in a cheery tone before jogging over to you.

oikawa tooru, who inserts himself into any situation that includes you. group project? he's already moving over to your desk before you could even look at your best friend. school trip? he's taking the seat beside you, end of story. pairing up with someone during physical education? oikawa's wandering towards you (even though you're intimidated by the man's athletic abilities.)

oikawa tooru, who seeks for your validation. you come to a few of his volleyball games per his request and feels his ego shoot up by miles when you tell him you're proud of him and that he's amazing.

you learnt how to make paper rings and taught oikawa tooru how to as well, and he gave his first one to you. you took it gratefully and handed him one of your more successful ones and he wore it around for the whole day. he keeps it on his desk now.

oikawa tooru, who could be swarmed by a group of fangirls, but when you walk past the school grounds talking with a bunch of friends, he's calling your name and breaking away so he can talk to you.

everyone can see how smitten oikawa tooru is for you, except you, and it frustrates everyone to no end.

oikawa tooru has been friendzoned 27 times by you, and counting.

"why would oikawa go for someone like me?" you would say to your friends, and it's a genuine question, because someone as dazzling and bold as oikawa tooru did not belong with you.

oikawa tooru, who overhears you and feels his heart drop.

oikawa tooru, who knows what it's like being insecure and uncomfortable in their own skin, comforting you when it matters most. he repeats what he wants people to say most to him, "you're incredible and that will never change, you're loved for a reason y/n and you're enough."

you're a little embarrassed that he caught you at a time of vulnerability, but oikawa tooru waves off your apology and tells you that he's always happy to help. he just hopes you'll stop burdening yourself with bottled up thoughts.

oikawa tooru, who hates losing you in a crowd, so he'll grab onto your shoulders like a conga line.

"i'm pretty, you're pretty, i think we would make a pretty good couple," oikawa tooru once told you. that got him a whack from iwaizumi and a harmless eye roll from you.

oikawa tooru, who shows off photos of you to his nephew and takeru has had enough of his uncle gushing endlessly.

oikawa tooru, when asked 'who's the prettiest person you know', says your name first without hesitation. he then adds on a pathetic "i'm still pretty amazing myself, but it's exhausting carrying these good looks all the time".

oikawa tooru, who squealed in delight when you finally agreed to go on a date with him.

miya osamu, who is one of the most caring people you've ever met.

miya osamu, who brings food just for you, even if he has to put up with atsumu's relentless teasing the night before as he prepares both their lunches. osamu shuts him up by saying 'i'll let ya starve tomorrow if ya don't shut the hell up'.

miya osamu, who carries your books for you if you don't have enough hands and follows you back to your locker if you forgot something for next period.

he faces the brunt of atsumu's teasing most of the time, but miya osamu never cracks, countering his twin's teasing by insulting him back- which most likely ends in fight. however, when you tease miya osamu, his face heats up and he stumbles over his words, but he doesn't really mind because he gets to hear your laughter.

miya osamu, who's competitive but especially when it comes to you AND he's jealous. if he overhears people talking about you, there's a good chance he'll stare them down in the hallways and scare them away- which is really effective with his 'the more intimidating miya' status.

miya osamu, who will give you piggy-back rides willingly. you know the thing where you'd jump at someone who is carrying things in both hands and see how they'd react? miya osamu would drop everything in his hands just to catch you, and he tries to get mad at you but can't because you're too busy sprinting away, giggling and laughing whilst osamu just looks at you hopelessly.

having a crush on miya osamu is easy because he knows how to charm someone and it's working on you.

miya osamu who is quite invested in self maintenance. you have regular discussions about haircare, skincare and even what makeup osamu should use. he's an introverted soul, so don't be surprised that miya osamu has a cleansing night where he spends it by himself, cooking up a new dish in a bathrobe whilst he waits to take off his face mask.

miya osamu, who is your best friend before he is your crush- and you never really know where you stand with him.

miya osamu, who sits in the library with you after school just to kill time. you swear you're going to study but that never really works, not when osamu keeps challenging you to games of 8ball on messages.

miya osamu is realistic and won't let unnecessary bullshit get the better of him, and he's the first person you go to when you need to be smacked down to earth. as you panic about an overdue assignment, he's the first to tell you that 'an overdue assignment by an hour is nothing, besides, you're probably not the first student that broke their laptop and lost everything. ya need to talk to the teacher- and stop panicking!'

miya osamu, who is not above throwing paper at the back of your head during class whenever the teacher is turned around. you've resorted to ignoring him which was a bad idea because he then proceeded to throw stationery.

miya osamu confessed in the way he knew best, through food as he prepared a bunch of your favourite sweets and left a note on top- a love letter if you will, but osamu was repulsed that you called it that, so you opt to just say he left you a note. it was definitely a love letter.

you begin to come over to the miya household on days when miya osamu wants to have his weekly cleanse and he shows you the products he uses.

miya osamu, who let you wear his volleyball uniform once and demanded for you to take it off before he actually let you keep it. maybe after high school he'll give it to you, but certainly not when he still needed it.

miya osamu, who regularly discusses his dreams and ambitions with you.

there was a place for you in miya osamu's future, right by his side as he was yours.

kuroo tetsuro, who declines any feelings he might have for you.

kuroo tetsuro, literal embodiment of 'i'll deny i have a crush on y/n, even though it's so painfully obvious'. kenma is so tired of his shit.

kuroo: what are you talking about? y/n is just a friend kenma: oh great, so that means i can set her up with someone else right? kuroo: ...

kuroo tetsuro, who's stupidly giddy every time he hears about you and his head turns around very quickly whenever he hears your voice. he's quick to give you all of his attention.

kuroo tetsuro, who buys food from the local 7/11 for you- especially when you forgot to have lunch or didn't have time to eat that day.

kuroo tetsuro, who will point out cats on the side of the road and you take a photo of them. it's got to the point where you have a whole album of cat pictures named 'pussy pics'. kuroo features in a few of them sometimes and you joke that he's a cat.

when you're cold, kuroo tetsuro is more than happy to offer you his blazer. he doesn't get cold, it's okay (that's what he tells you).

kuroo tetsuro, who's already thought about his future and what he'd like to do, and he can't imagine you not being in it- despite constantly denying that you're just a friend.

kuroo tetsuro, who tries to ignore the way your face falls when he friendzones you for the nth time.

kuroo tetsuro, who finally acknowledges his feelings for you when he overhears you being asked out by some other guy in his year. he wants to intercept and pull you away, but he can't really do that when he sees you smiling and accepting the date offer.

kuroo tetsuro, whose stomach drops every time he thinks about you going on a date with someone that's not him, and he's so very anxious for the day to come.

kuroo tetsuro, who's bitterly texting you and asking how it was when he opens your snap. kuroo tetsuro, who is over the moon when you tell him that 'it was okay, but i probably won't go on another date with him'.

kuroo tetsuro, who is courageous and daring, but can't seem to confess to you because every time he thinks about it, he chickens out.

you have matching friendship bracelets with kuroo tetsuro, and he wears it everywhere. during school, volleyball practice, when you hangout, even when he sleeps. it's just easier that way and he's not bothered to take it off just to forget to put it back on.

kuroo tetsuro, who loves taking mirror pictures with you and posting them on his stories. you look so cool in them, trust me, it's pinterest worthy. your most-liked photos on your feed are mirror photos with him.

kuroo tetsuro, who watches you play games with kenma, and when you're both too engrossed in the screen, he throws a volleyball at the back of your head to get your attention.

kuroo tetsuro, who could be the best boyfriend ever if either of you just stopped being scared to 'ruin' the friendship.

akaashi keiji, who really enjoys having you around and spending time with you.

akaashi keiji, who expresses love through the little things, like carrying things when you don't have a pocket or bag, remembering what kind of chapstick you use or willingly having your hair bands around his wrist.

akaashi keiji, who passes notes with you during class- surprisingly, because he's such a diligent student.

the love language between you two is basically books. it started when you left your copy of a novel to read for school with akaashi keiji, who offered to annotate it. when you got it back, there was a little 'he's my favourite character, he's so funny' written on the pages with an arrow to a certain name. you start adding on your own little comments to his books.

you leave little notes of encouragement in akaashi keiji's textbooks, and he smiles so widely every time he finds them. he keeps all of them too, not having the heart to throw them away.

akaashi keiji, who can be brutally honest that you let him know that you appreciate it when he is. you come to him for genuine advice and it always makes him feel validated when you listen intently and take in his words.

akaashi keiji, who you've actually had several conversations over fashion with, because even though he doesn't exactly have the best closet, you send him photos of outfits you think would look good on him.

and when he buys the appropriate clothes to build an outfit, you hype him up for it because what the fuck, why does akaashi keiji look so good in a turtle neck.

falling for akaashi keiji was so easy, easier than falling asleep, because he's always there for you and he's got this unassuming charm to him. the second you realised you'd began to slip, you simply just let it happen.

bokuto is a really sad third wheel, even whilst you two are just friends, but akaashi keiji can't help but pay attention to anything that's not you.

akaashi keiji, who goes to sleep at 11:30pm, but he's sure there's no harm staying up for another half hour just to talk to you.

sometimes, akaashi keiji writes poems for you... but he'll never let those see the light of day.

you're tempted sometimes to write a 'you're cute <3' when you annotate his books, but ultimately decide against it and go to draw a little heart instead.

the way your heart skipped many beats when you read 'do you wanna go out with me?' on the pages of your book. you confront him about it and he's so shy... but beams when you tell him that that it's a date.

going on bookdates is a MUST with akaashi keiji.

just wow, dating akaashi keiji would be the best thing to ever happen in life.

suna rintarou, who you actually kinda hate because of how annoying he is.

suna rintarou, who loves provoking you. tripping you over as you're walking out of class, messing up your hair just as you're about to speak to a teacher, smirking at you whilst you're in the middle of presenting something for class- you just hate him to put it simply.

you get back at suna rintarou for every time he messes with you and it's become a continuous back and forth.

he would be attractive with his aloof, uninterested vibe, and it's not like suna's a bad looker, he's just so annoying- but you could see yourself having a crush on suna rintarou. not like he'd want you to though.

suna rintarou's love language is bullying.

suna rintarou, who impresses you with his athletic abilities, but you have to mask your shock every time he hits one of his impressive volleyball spike.

you sometimes like to mock him whilst you're with friends, slouching and digging your hands into your pockets as you rant about the last thing he did to provoke you, unaware that suna rintarou and his perceptive eyes were watching you. he's amused though and walks away with a faint smile.

speaking of perceptive eyes, suna rintarou notices you almost everywhere. not just you but he only ever gives two thoughts about you, complimenting your outfit in his head before glancing away.

suna rintarou, who sees his chance when he notices you talking to osamu (who you share classes with).

he asks about you, trying to sound disinterested but osamu notices his bullshit right away. you're the same, asking about suna rintarou whilst pretending like you don't care. osamu tells atsumu this and the twins decide to take it into their own hands.

you don't know why miya atsumu has decided to talk to you, deciding that it was the cherry on top when suna rintarou approached and sat down next to his friend.

suna rintarou once responded to your story on instagram and you begin talking for hours without realising.

one day as you're walking to school with a cup of coffee in hand, miya atsumu notices and shoves suna rintarou in your direction a little too hard. he accidentally bumps into you and spills your drink.

suna rintarou is apologising profusely, feeling terrible that he did that but you shut him up by saying, "you can apologise by taking me out on a date". he's dumbstruck, but agrees.

suna rintarou begins to panic, because he wants this to be the best date of your life.

reblogs, feedback and likes are very appreciated!

HELP i'm EXHAUSTED AFTER THAT, so please please please reblog or just interact with this post because you don't understand how much it helps me out!! but that's only if you want to <3

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➽ [ 6:02 pm ]

your three year old daughter waddles down the hall to find her dad in the kitchen. she had just recently learned questions and once she starts, she doesn't stop. your husband, kuroo, is fully responsible for this.

"hi kitten, i thought you were with mommy," kuroo sees the little sprout of hair poking up from the side of the counter.

"what doing?" she asks as she makes her way beside her dad. kuroo lifts her to sit beside him on a stool.

"i'm decorating a cake for mommy," he says.

"why?" she tilts her head to look at the messily frosted cake.

"for mommy's work tomorrow," he continues as he attempts to make flowers.

"dada," she goes. he pauses to look at her. "what doing?" the back and forth of what and why continued for longer than it should have.

"y/n!" kuroo pleaded. "take your daughter away, shes asking too many questions!"

you make your way from the office space to see your two favorite people. your daughter both hands on the counter to hold her stable. kuroo looks stressed as he continues to make decorations for the cake. "what's going on?" you chuckled.

"mama!" your daughter cheers. "dada making cake."

"i see that, and what are you doing?" you poked her cheek.

"botdering dada," she smiles.

"you're bothering me, on purpose kitten?" kuroo puts down his piping bag to look at her.

"yes!" she laughs. you giggle as well before making eye contact with your husband.

"kitten," he began to scold.

"oh no kitten," you walked over to wrap your arms around your daughter. "daddy's gonna tickle us we gotta go."

"dada no!" she immediately wraps her arms around you neck as you two book it to the bedroom.

kuroo follows quickly after, cornering you on the bed. you two fall back onto the bed, both giggling messes. he crawls on the bed, almost immediately goes to tickle your daughter.

"dada!" she laughs. kuroo pulls away for a second to look at her. "no more please."

"okay, okay, just don't bother daddy like that anymore," he says.

"why?" she asks.

kuroo groans as he lays beside you both, knowing full well he walked into that. "kitten you'll be the death of me."

"why?" you joined in. he looks at you, squinting his eyes at you. both you and your daughter giggle at kuroo, making him face palm.

"hehe i lobe you dada!" your daughter crawls on top of your defeated husband. she litters his face with kisses as repayment for annoying him.

"why kitten?" he jokes. she leans down lightly biting his cheek. "ow! i deserved that. i love you too kitten."

have a shit eating grin on their face when you scoot closer to them while watching a horror movie and will probably tease you about it for the rest of your life

suna, atsumu, tsukishima, mattsun, semi, shirabu, kuroo, tendou, kenma, osamu ( at times )

net positive

summary: Suna x Reader. Weirdo on weirdo high school flirting.

word count: 1.3k

cw: sex jokes and cursing and terrible, sleep deprived writing

a/n: i’ve genuinely gotten so little sleep recently but i was like “i need suna to be more insane” so this is the product of that. it’s not feral enough. i can’t guarantee the quality of the grammar. i may edit heavily once i’m properly rested and sentient again

Suna thinks this is love at first sight.

Suna is prone to making grand, sweepingly overdramatic statements with a completely deadpan expression. He does this often entirely within his head, his inner monologue just as monotone as his actual voice tends to be. Occasionally, he references these statements out loud, and people just accept it, because Suna has the kind of self confidence that lets him get away with the weirdest shit.

“When’s the wedding?” Are his first words to you, but you don’t hear them, because you’re head down, ass up in a dumpster, legs floating inches above the ground. You push yourself up, hair matted to your head with sweat, eyes just a little crazed. He thinks you’re radiant. He thinks you have a nice ass.

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party preparation~

———♡———

pairing: rintaro suna x reader

genre: fluff, domestic fluff, drabble, slightly suggestive, suna’s a DORK and ugh he loves you so much <3

synopsis: getting ready for osamu’s halloween party with your fiancé

———♡———

“No. Absolutely not.”

You covered your mouth with your hand as you stared at your fiancé with furrowed brows, trying everything you could to not to react.

“I can tell you’re trying not to laugh.” Suna said, placing a hand on his hip before getting closer to you. “Imagine how the guys would act if they saw me wearing this. I’d never live it down.”

Suna was wearing a pair of firefighter pants with suspenders and no t-shirt. He was holding a fake axe that he was mindlessly swinging around, and a red plastic hat settled comfortably on top of his head.

You wondered how long it would take before you’d get used to seeing his incredible body. Both him and Osamu had crazy workout regimens that were absolutely exhausting compared the other volleyball guys already lengthy workouts. The difference was the other guys were lean, they ate clean and treated their bodies like temples.

Suna and Osamu spent far too many evenings after a particularly stressful day eating like pigs and stuffing themselves with all of the junk food they could get their hands on. It’s fine, they’d say, they’ll just burn the calories in the morning.

Which they always did… and then some. Coupled with hours of weight training and you get two beefy best friends who turn heads everywhere they go and they don’t even notice.

“I’m not trying not to laugh.” You spoke into your palm, not moving your hand from your face. You were blushing. Your own fiancé, who you’ve been with for years, was making you blush like crazy just because he was shirtless.

How ridiculous.

“Oh? Hmm..” Suna took your hand off of your mouth, pressing your palm to his toned abdomen. He smirked, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you directly against him.

“Fancy meeting you here.” He smirked and leaned down to give you a soft kiss. Before pulling away completely, he whispered in your ear. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were a bit flustered right now.”

“Shut up.” You mumbled into his chest.

“Oh shit, no way?” He snorted, “You got a thing for firefighters, babe?” Suna stepped back, posing in a way that would only be present on the front cover of a “sexy first responder” themed calendar.

“You like what you see?” He asked with a cheeky grin.

“You’re such a dork!” You laughed, running over to him and stealing his toy axe. You whacked playfully at his arm and he squinted at you. Another devilish smirk crossed his lips and he flexed his biceps at you.

“If you wanted to see my muscles, you could’ve just asked me.” He winked at you.

“Oh my god, stop!” You threw the axe at him and ran away. He took this as a challenge, catching up to you in the blink of an eye and wrapping his arms around you. He picked you up effortlessly and tossed you on your bed.

“We need to get going.” You smiled. Suna nodded, flopping down on the bed next to you. You both turned on your sides to look at each other.

“Maybe I don’t wanna go now.” He said quietly.

“You didn’t want to go to begin with. If you really hate it, you can wear something else.” You sighed, pressing your palm against his cheek. “You could always do your original idea and go as Atsumu.”

Suna cracked up and shook his head. “I was kidding when I said that. I’m not putting that pig’s jersey on. Anyways, it’s fine. I don’t really hate this costume anymore.”

“Oh?” You blinked at him, “What changed in the past 20 minutes?”

“Mm,” Suna leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours. He pulled away and gave you a tender, genuine smile. A smile meant for you and only you. The softest expression he could ever make and you were the reason behind it. “I liked the way you looked at me when you saw it.”

“What?!” You covered your mouth again, he shook his head and pulled your hand away.

“Stop acting like that. I loved it. Made me feel wanted.” He hesitated, thinking of how to finish his confession. “Not like you don’t always make me feel wanted… just, like, a bit extra. You looked like you wanted to eat me.”

You scrunched your nose at him and he laughed, giving you another kiss. “Am I wrong?”

“No. Okay. No. You’re sexy. So sexy it’s distracting.” You buried your face in his chest, “We’ve been trying to get ready for this party for almost an hour, Rin.”

“So what’s another 30 minutes?” His voice was barely a whisper as he pulled you on top of him. “I haven’t been able to take my eyes off of you since you put that costume on and all I can think about is taking it off.”

You looked down at him and your fiancé stared back up at you with nothing but adoration. You smiled again, leaning in to kiss him the way you’d been dying to all evening. Suna opened his mouth to let your tongue inside, the two of you moving from soft kisses to gasping for air and low groans in a matter of seconds.

He quickly flipped you over, hovering over you and pressing his forehead to yours. “I love you. So much. Fuck, I love you.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him back in for another kiss. “I love you too, Rin.”

“Good.” He leaned in and kissed down your neck, his hand working it’s way down to your waist. Sloppy, wet kisses with little bites causing quiet whines to escape from your lips.

“Now,” he mumbled against your skin, “let’s make these next 30 minutes count. We’ve got a party to go to.”

UGLY SWEATER | AKAASHI KEIJI

holiday/christmas drabble. husband keij. corny shit. gn reader. jus…fluff n (christmas) crack.

“wh-what..” keiji asks, face flushing and fingers growing restless at his sides.

oh heaven love him. you married your husband for many reasons; his thoughtfulness is unparalleled, his preciseness is unmatched, his cooking is simply to die for. he’s a sweetheart, through and through. he seems to always know how you’re feeling or what you want before you even do. he’s able to read you like he’s known you forever and can recite your entire being like it’s the back of his hand. there are countless reasons that you said i do.

but his fashion sense is definitely not one of them.

“nothing, it’s just—“

you bite your lip to stop the laugh threatening to bubble out of your throat. because, granted, keiji’s fashion sense is pretty good eleven months out of the year. sophisticated, clean, attractively slouchy. but then comes december, and december brings, well.

“keij, that sweater..”

it is absolutely horrid. it’s like christmas threw up on it; tinsel and ribbons and buttons in four separate mismatched shapes and, god, who even knew there were this many different shades of red and green? when did he even buy this? because you most definitely wouldn’t have let him make it to the check out line with it in hand.

“what about it?” he asks, and—sweet man—his face is completely serious too. his fingers grip the hem of it, tug at it a little as he looks down. his eyes scan the fabric, a once over for himself, then he’s glancing back up to you with furrowed brows. “is it a little too much?”

“babe.” a small giggle finally escapes you as you step up to him, patting his shoulder and watching as a string of tinsel drifts to the floor. “i think it’s a lot too much. i mean is this—are those bells on your collar?”

and oh, keiji doesn’t really get embarrassed a lot, but now pink is flooding his cheeks so fast he thinks he might just faint on the spot.

“well it’s just a christmas party. and you said to dress festive so i—should i change? yeah, i should change. let me just—“

“no, no! wait,” you protest with a chuckle, grabbing his hand to stop him and smiling at the slight pout he gives you. “it’s..cute. in a quirky sort of way. give me a little spin.”

“yn..”

“nuh uh,” you tut, dropping his hand and twirling your finger around. “you chose to put it on, no whining. now spin.”

the pout tugging at your husband’s lips deepens, the flush in his face following suit. but nevertheless he follows your order and does an awkward little spin for you in the middle of your living room; much like a kid showcasing the shirt he’s just tried on in the dressing room for his mom. and the sweater looks just as dorky and ugly after the twirl than it did before, but (and you blame keiji’s natural allure for this) it somehow is a little charming now.

“do i go change..?” he whispers, fingers fidgeting with one of the ribbons hanging off the front of the godawful thing.

you so badly want to say yes, to have him put on the outfit you already picked out for him in your head so the two of you could take cute pictures together in front of your friend’s fireplace. but then you look at him; at the blush high on his cheeks and the bashfulness in his slouch and the jitters in the teeth gnawing at the corner of his lip and you just..

“nah,” you smile, straighten out a bow on his sleeve, fix a button on his chest. “i think you should keep it on. you know, it’s actually kinda cute. almost makes me jealous that i don’t have one.”

it’s instant, the way keiji’s eyes light up at your admission, and suddenly he’s tugging at your hands and his bashfulness is shifting to a new form.

“well, actually, i may have bought one for you too? they were just on sale and there was one in your size so i thought i might as well and..”

you’re lost for words as you follow after him, smile stretching your lips as you listen to him ramble through explanation after explanation. the sweater he pulls out of the closet for you is just as hideous as his own, just as disgustingly festive as the one he’s donning. you take it from him as soon as he hands it to you, and try not to laugh too much at the excitement written all over his face as he watches you change.

it’s dorky, and your christmas pictures in front of your friend’s fireplace look totally dumb compared to everyone else’s, but it’s worth it to see the grin on your husband’s face afterwards.

even if you have to physically restrain him from using that photo on your christmas cards.

reblogs appreciated !

hi!! for the scenarios, kuroo+baby’s first word? <33

the second kuroo bursts into your bedroom with your one-year-old son in his arms, you know you've won.

"you cheated!" he accuses with a pointed finger.

you place the last of your laundry into your shared closet and close the door. picking up the empty basket, you give him a pointed look as you walk past him. "i don't know what you're talking about."

"cheater!" he cries, following you to the laundry area.

"still no clue," you say, setting down the basket and turning.

kuroo trails you all this while, all 189 cm irately bobbing around your house. "you taught him to say mama."

you try not to laugh, and attempt to school your expression as you sit down on your couch, looking up at him. "i did not."

tetsurō peers at your face with squinting eyes, and you can’t help the way the corner of your mouth twitches. he explodes. "you're smiling! i knew it!"

your son blinks, looking from his father to you, and he smiles. extending his arms, he reaches for you. "mama!"

"see?!" your husband wails, and you stand up briefly to take your son before sitting back down. "that's against the rules!"

"what rules?" you say with a roll of your eyes, unable to help your smile any longer, allowing your son to play with your hair. "english wasn't off the table when we had our bet about what word he'd say first."

"it was either okaa-san or otō-san and you know it!" kuroo snaps, cutely stomping to the armchair and sitting down, crossing his arms and pouting. 

you supress a laugh at his touchiness, but nudge your son. “baby, where’s papa?”

his eyes blink up at you, then he points at your husband. tetsurō kuroo glares at the chubby little hand of his traitorous son.

“go give papa a hug,” you say, setting him down. he takes wide steps before giving up and speed crawling to his father. 

despite kuroo’s pout, he bends over to pick up his son. 

“you can always try again with baby number two,” you remind him.

“yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, leaning back so your son can settle on his chest. “you’re lucky i love you."

you chuckle. “hey, baby,” you call to your son, and the boy looks back at you, his hands on the collar of your husband’s shirt. you see the affection that opens up on tetsurō’s face when he looks at his child, and it makes your heart twinge. “say papa.”

your son doesn’t falter, offering you a smile. “mama!”

just my (blood) type | todoroki x reader

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

length: 5,300 words

summary: The real Halloween treat was how sinfully handsome Todoroki Shouto looked in his vampire costume. But that wouldn’t be enough to save him from the petty wrath of one drunk lobster. (In which you suffer deeply, wingwoman a friend, and pick a fight with the hottest boy at UA.)

tags: romance, sfw, halloween, idiot behavior

warnings: aged-up characters, underage drinking, drunk kissing (the characters knowingly and purposefully keep it to kissing only, and everyone is happy about it, but reader is def tipsy.)

notes: Happy (early) Halloween!! I’m not quite where I had hoped to be with this fic but I will be out most of the weekend and wanted to get this up in time. I hope you guys stay safe and have a super fun day!!

You hadn’t been serious when you’d said it.

At least, not at first—not until you saw how much it could mean to your best friend, how much it could alleviate her insecurities.

It had started as a joke, meant to encourage Eiko to stop being a self-deprecating idiot, and start working up the guts to ask her crush out. The UA third years were throwing a halloween party in the Class A dorms, and it would be the perfect opportunity for Eiko to make her move. You had been working on her for the better part of an hour, wheedling, trying every single angle—until you came to the final, extremely regrettable comment that set everything into motion.

“It’s Sero Hanta,” Eiko wailed, from where she was currently sprawled atop your covers with a pile of snacks and her homework, taking up your entire bed. “He’d never be into me.”

You rolled over from your spot on the floor to glare balefully up at her. “Sero Hanta is a confirmed straight boy. There is absolutely no reason why he wouldn’t be into you like one hundred percent of all other men on this earth.”

If three years at UA had taught you anything, it was that every flavor of man—business student, general course, support course, or hero track—was always interested in Eiko. She was a tiny thing, with shiny dark hair, pert features, and a sweet-tempered charm. Even Bakugou Katsuki wasn’t immune, remembering his manners enough to mutter a “sorry” when he bumped her in the halls—instead of declaring her an extra and demanding she retreat before him like the tides before Moses, which seemed to be his standard for handling everyone else.

Eiko had had a bevvy of admirers since your first day of classes, and their ranks had only grown larger over time. There was no way Sero wouldn’t be into her. She was too pretty, too interesting, and too sweet.

But she was also inexplicably far too shy for her own good.

And far too whipped for one gangly, tape-themed future hero to see they were of the same league.

“There’s going to be a million girls at the party, there’s no reason why I should stand out to him,” Eiko said, running a hand through her dark tresses, before throwing it down on your pillow in apparent exasperation.

You rolled your eyes. There was no reasoning with her when she was like this. You would just have to play along.

You patted your chin as if in thought. “Hmm. If that’s the case, then we’ll just have to make you stand out.”

Eiko blinked, like she hadn’t considered this. “How? I’m just…me.”

God if she wasn’t your best friend you could have strangled her for how oblivious she was.

You’d have liked her less, you supposed, if she was actually as up her own butt as she rightfully should be, but this was bordering on idiotic. She was already going to be the hottest girl at that party, in the tiny black dress and cute little cat ears she’d shown you earlier today.

She’d stand out by just existing.

“I don’t know,” you said, picking your phone up off the floor and absently scrolling. “We’ll spend extra time on your makeup. We can put fun chalk and glitter in your hair. We can hire you a phalanx of men to bear you around like a queen. I’ll even stand next to you dressed as a frigging lobster if I have to—then you’ll look insanely good by comparison.”

You expected a snort to issue from her direction—and it did.

But not before there was a slightly too-long pause, like she had briefly considered the idea.

“….You’re serious,” you said, sitting up. “You want me to?”

Eiko looked horrified. “No, I don’t want you to! You have to be cute, too! What if there is some boy you end up wanting to get to know?”

You’d met the majority of third-year boys, and they generally did not want to get to know you, so her point was immaterial. Even Todoroki Shouto, who was reputed among your classmates for his princely manners, seemed openly mystified by your very existence.

In your opinion you’d done nothing wrong, the few times you’d interacted with him—on school-cleaning rotation, in joint-class assignments, at third-year movie nights—but he seemed perplexed by you nevertheless.

Your first meeting had been in the dorm basements, where he’d stood, looking handsome but utterly lost, like some tragic prince from an ancient ballad. He was gazing helplessly between a basket of laundry, a bottle of detergent, and the washing machines, and you couldn’t stifle the laugh that burst its way out of you.

You’d made your way over, gathered just enough information from him to determine that his laundry had always been done by hired house staff, and then proceeded to talk him through the process of doing his own in your least judgmental tones. You also took care to also detail what he was going to do when it came time to use the dryers, laughing when he acted as though they were going to wake up and bite him.

You made light conversation with him while he worked through the process, and then you’d dumped in your own laundry and bade him farewell. You’d thought the entire interaction had been normal enough, as you hadn’t talked for that long or discussed anything super serious.

You guessed you must have stepped wrong somewhere, however, as ever since then, Todoroki had watched you with that same little wrinkle on his brows, like he was just as confused by your existence as he was the washing machines downstairs. You tried your best to act normal whenever you ran into him after that, but nothing seemed to disabuse him of his prejudices.

Whatever.

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osamu + “we’re fake dating! why did you tell them we were engaged?!” for @amarinthe thanks for requesting this! it's probably one of my favourite prompts

the moment you open your front door, you kind of regret it.

because while your totally hot neighbour is standing in your doorway in his dark jeans and fitted black t-shirt glory, you’re rocking shorts and an unreasonably large sweatshirt.

“osamu,” you blink, tugging the hem of your shirt down a little. “hey.”

“hey,” he replies with a smile that makes your knees weak, holding up a takeout bag. “i brought some onigiri home. wanna share?”

thinking about the instant ramen currently boiling on your stovetop, you couldn’t possibly refuse his offer (especially if it’s from miya osamu, whose very successful restaurant is quite literally across the street).

so you open your door wider, letting him step inside and slip his shoes off while you move into the kitchen, placing two plates on the counter.

“so, how was your day?” he asks, unpacking the setting two onigiri on each plate. “anything interesting happen?”

you slide into the stool next to him, swinging your legs lightly as you munch on happily on the food. “not particularly, you?”

“actually, yeah,” he starts, taking his cap off and running a hand through his hair (you think it’s unfair, how good it still looks, even after spending all day smushed under a baseball cap). “my ma called today.”

“your ma?” you hum through a mouthful of salmon and rice. “what’d she say?”

he picks disinterestedly at the seaweed on his onigiri. “she, uh, asked that i visit home for dinner tomorrow night.”

“that’s sounds fun,” you start, pausing when he visibly grimaces. “unless it’s...not?”

“my brother’s bringin’ his girl again,” he shrugs. “and i know that means ma’s gonna be on my ass about why i’m not datin’.”

“yeah, i’ve had that conversation with my parents before,” you shudder, patting his shoulder in understanding. “the future, grandchildren, the passive-aggressive judgement from siblings. you should just call and say you’re sick.”

“can’t,” he sighs heavily. “i already cancelled twice. she may disown me if i skip a third time, or worse, show up at my place.”

it’d probably be funny, you think, seeing mama and brother miya across the hall, bugging osamu. “then maybe you should bring someone,” you suggest off-handedly. “just to keep them off your back a little. when was the last time you went on a date?”

when he doesn’t answer, your happy chewing slows, and you glance over at him. “jeez, that long ago? i thought you had more game than that, miya.”

a slow grin spread across his face when he meets your gaze. “last time i went out with someone was...four months ago, actually.”

“four months ago? that was around when we—” your eyes widen slightly, heat spreading to your cheeks. “oh. that...was not a date. that was a slightly intoxicated but very satisfying sexual exchange between friends.”

osamu chuckles, ducking his head a little and making those eyes at you (the ones that’d lured you into fucking him on your living room floor at two in the morning). “maybe don’t bring that up when ya meet my mom.”

“excuse me?” you laugh. “you cannot bring me home to meet your family.”

“why not?” he questions, looking genuinely confused. “you’re the one who suggested it. it’s just for one night anyway.”

“i just can’t!” you insist, looking at him incredulously. “i’d be nervous even if we were dating. what if they ask questions about--”

“i’ll give you free onigiri for a month.”

_____

“so, how did the two of you meet?” osamu’s mother asks as she pours you a generous glass of wine.

you freeze, blinking a few times. when you open your mouth, nothing comes out.

(it’s funny how, on the hour-long drive to hyogo, the two of you hadn’t discussed any basic information about your relationship. instead, you’d spent your time debating the best taylor swift album and making fun of the other tenants in your building.)

you almost flinch when someone places a hand on the small of your back, but relax when osamu’s faint cologne meets your senses. “actually it was the day after she moved in next door,” he says. “i brought some onigiri over because she’d asked me that morning where the closest grocery store was so i figured…”

you smile fondly, recalling the day you’d run into him at the mailboxes, and he’d shown up a few hours later with food. he’d claimed they were just leftovers even though it was mid-afternoon.

“i can’t believe you remember that,” you murmur.

he hums quietly, gaze flicking over your face briefly. “i guess it’s just when i knew.”

you’re sure that your heart stutters in your chest. surely he’d stolen that from some cheesy romance flick?

“how long have you two been together?” his mother follows up with, glancing between the two of you expectantly, a slow smile spreading across her face.

“eight months,” you say.

“almost a year,” osamu answers at the same time.

across from you, atsumu hides a smile behind his glass of water.

“i mean, who’s counting?” you laugh, quick to recover, reaching over to your ‘boyfriend’ blindly, meaning to pat his shoulder but instead catching him on the cheek. “time flies when you’re in love.”

you turn to stare at osamu when you feel him clasp your hand, pressing a kiss to your fingers, lips curling against them.

your stomach flutters a little at the gesture.

“‘tsumu,” he continues, redirecting the conversation. he rests your clasped hands on the table, thumb brushing the back of yours gently. “i thought you were bringing your girlfriend.”

“oh, she’s at her place doin’ some packing,” he answers easily. “she’s movin’ in next week.”

“that’s great news!” their mother beams, osamu’s hand tightening around yours as he blurts,

“yeah, well, we’re engaged!”

this time, you choke on your bite of chicken, almost hacking up a lung as you whip your head towards your neighbour/friend/fake boyfriend turned fake fiancé.

he shoots you a pleading gaze as he rubs firm circles on your back, and when you finally dislodge that traitorous piece of meat, you draw a slow breath and sigh. “babe, i thought we were going to wait until you made it official.” you lift your left hand, pointing at your empty ring finger before turning back to his mother and brother. “do you mind if we step away for a second?”

they both wave you off, and you snatch osamu’s wrist, dragging him out the back door, making sure it’s shut tight before you whisper-shout,

“we are fake dating! why would you tell them that we were engaged?”

he rubs his hands down his face, groaning. “i’m sorry, i panicked! it’s just that when atsumu mentioned moving in i got weirdly competitive because we’re twins—”

“so naturally you told your mother we were getting married? what’s next, atsumu mentions a joint bank account and you tell them that i’m pregnant?”

osamu lowers his hands to peek at you. “can i actually do that?”

“no! this is so not worth the free onigiri!” you growl, smacking him on the shoulder a few times, osamu yelling in protest.

(inside, atsumu and their mother peek out the kitchen window to watch the both of you, the latter murmuring, ‘definitely engaged.’)

_____

“you cannot tell that story in your toast,” you laugh, three years later with a very real engagement ring on your finger.

“why not?” osamu whines, completely invading your side of the bed to wrap his arms around you. “it’s how we got together, isn’t it?”

“by lying to your family.”

“soon to be your family,” he reminds you happily. “and i didn’t have to tell them you were pregnant.”

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐍; 𝐚 𝐯𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

as you walk out of the door to go shopping with him, he pulls you back into the house and holds the door open for you. “i can be a gentleman and open the door for you.” whether that be a pouty claim or a cocky one, he won’t be letting you go through that door without him holding it for you.

sugawara, KUROO, BOKUTO, atsumu, SUNA, ushijima, lev, oikawa, MATSUKAWA

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in which suna and you babysit osamu’s daughter for an entire day

CLICK HERE FOR PART.2!

-> this is the consequence of being moots with the queen of baby fevers @tsukkisfatsimp

-> genre : fluffy af, but the ending is even fluffier :0 | word count : 2.4k (yeah….)

-> timeskip!suna x f!reader (ft. osamu and a tiny bit of atsumu)

it’s 8am when osamu’s familiar knock on your front door pulls you out of your thoughts and makes you put your coffee cup down. breakfast isn’t ready yet, but you sure are.

you’re rather quick to open the door, behind which osamu seems to be much more struggling with the two bags swung over his shoulder than with his daughter happily sitting on his left arm.

« i’ll pick her up around 8 if that’s ok with ya » he tells you as you outstretch your arms to relieve him from her featherlight weight. « lemme guess, suna’s still asleep ? » he asks, putting the bags down in your hall with a sigh of relief.

you nod evasively, already too busy poking the soft chubby cheeks of his undoubtedly well-fed daughter, who’s eyeing you with curious eyes.

« does he know that- »

« he doesn’t know anything » you whisper with a smirk at the thought that he still has no idea of what your day is going to look like.

« well, she’s been callin’ for him all mornin’ so he better brace himself - she might be clingy »

i sure hope she will, you think to yourself as osamu gives you some last-minute instructions, before leaving a kiss on his daughter’s forehead and walking back to his car - not without one last wave and blown kiss.

« alright sweetie, now that daddy’s gone… let’s go wake your uncle up » you smile mischievously at her and she immediately mimics your expression with a toothless grin.

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very vague sex, swearing

fake dating to lovers with osamu but there’s no big confession, u guys just end up in a commitment relationship, no words exchanged about it, just boom! ur in love and you don’t even remember it happening

maybe it started cuz there was this manager at his restaurant that would not leave him alone, and you two were pretty tight, maybe ur his college buddy or something. u swing by and he sees the girl and he’s like “can u do me a favour”

n ur like “what is it”

“can you lay one on me” and taps his cheek and makes a kissy noise.

ur like “bro why”

and he’s like “my manager won’t hop off my dick”

so u do and she goes over does the whole “i had no idea you guys were a thing 😆😆😆 how long when did this start???”

and he, committed to the bit, pulls you in by ur waist and goes “ah, a month now, always had a thing for this one since college” and ruffles your hair lovingly. you smile and lean into him and play the part perfectly.

fast forward a couple weeks, whenever you come in (which is often, that’s ur boy!) ur all cutesy and romantic n shit, even kissed on the lips once. he smacked ur ass in front of all the staff, which earned him an earful over text after you went home.

you’ve now developed cute pet names for each other thag started off as ironic but now you can’t drop them. you call him stuff like babe, my big strong man, sweetheart (alternatively sweetfart when you guys are alone), bb (pronounced like that) and he calls you stuff like babe, angel cakes, beautiful. it started off as only in front of his colleagues, but now he’ll whiz u texts at 8 pm like “hey angel cakes, got some left over udon from the shop if ur hungry” or “babe did you send me tik toks at 3am”

and now you don’t just huddle close with other people around, when you meet for coffee he’ll kick your feet under the table and give you hand a squeeze, and when you two have paid and left he’ll walk you back to your car with his arm around your waist. and before you hop into your car, you give him a tight hug and a peck on the lips.

fast forward a couple months now, it’s the staff christmas party, obviously hes gonna bring his girl!!! waitresses come up to u and tell you how jealous they are of you too, how they wish their bf looked at them that way, how they wish they could be that comfortable and in love with someone. you laugh and shake your head modestly, pretending like u don’t know that you two are absolutely perfect. you guys are getting real good at the charade... right?

He swings by and oh my god he is fine as hell. he’s in a fuckinh white button down that’s tight as hell on his big ass chest and shoulders, with them cute dress pants u helped him pick out for his.

you’re not looking too bad yourself. although he’s always let it be know he’s attracted to you, you look particularly cute in your little cropped sweater and that pretty little skirt. Your hair is beautiful (as usual, he’s not sure what you do it to get it so... pretty) and ur makeup makes him wanna grip your face and examine it for hours.

“Hey babe, hey guys, what are we talking about?”

wraps his big ass arm round ur shoulder n ur pussy is UNAPOLOGETICALLY pulsing.

“we were just talking about what a cute couple you two are mr.miya!”

He beams a bright calming smile and squeezes your shoulder, although before you know it his hand slipped down and gives your ass a little squeeze. the pussy pulses tenfold.

“aint we though?”

the party ends, and you’re not sure how it happens but you’re getting bent over his office desk and ploughed like a goddamn wheat field.

fucks u on the small sofa in the corner of his office, bounces u on his dick in his desk chair (his cleaner saw the stains and kept zip, hes real one), ate u out on the fuckinh kitchen counter (which is a fycking health and safety violation but hes horny and silly and it is his restaurant) (but like really?? ur bare ass was on the counter where he makes food and he has no problem?? alright), all moaning and groaning. when you guys are done, he asks if you want to stay the night at his. you take him up on that, and cuddle up close in his bed, too tired to do anything else, just watching a movie or two, you fall asleep on your sides with your back up against his chest and his arms wrapped protectively over you. and after that, you guys are literally inseparable.

It doesn’t fully set in you’re official until one day, about 7 months into the relationship, when a dude hits on you and you say

“ah, i’m sorry, i actually have a boyfriend”

the guy apologies and leaves and you’re left in utter shock, oh my god, you do have a boyfriend don’t you?

that is so weird, how did you not realise? i mean you definitely had feelings for him, and you knew he had feelings for you, and sure you fucked all the time, and yeah ok maybe you did meet his parents, but still. when did that happen?

you try to think back to when it all happened, but there was never an official thing, you guys just... got together out of no where.

When you swing by later that day, you break the shocking news to him.

“You didn’t realise we were boyfriend and girlfriend?”

his mouth is open in a look of confusion and concern.

“y/n it’s been 7 months”

“I know! it just didn’t fully sink, but we’re like, dating, you know? like actually dating, i’m committed right now. when did that happen?”

he scoffed, eyebrows still raised in judgement, and he came round the other side of the counter.

“i mean in my head, the day we got together was the day of the christmas party, that’s when we were official to me.”

He pulled you in by your waist, looking down into your face with a cocky smile.

“You think that’s just what i do with my friends?”

you rolled your eyes, suppressing the girly giggle in your throat.

“oh be quiet, i knew that we were dating, i just didn’t know, you know?”

“No.”

“Whatever. you’re my boyfriend, that’s all that matters.”

“And you’re my stupid little dumb dumb.”

“You can not be my boyfriend anymore if that’s what you want.”

He laughed and pulled you in tighter to him, smushing your cheeks against him.

“I hate you.”

he sighed, breathing your smell in.

“Love you too y/n.”

kuroo + “are you trying to seduce me into healthier sleeping patterns?” for @therescrackinmytea <3 thank you for requesting this! this shit was so funny to write, i hope you love it babe!!

“hey!” kuroo shouts, cradling his hand to his chest rather dramatically. “did you just bite my finger?”

you turn back to your laptop with a satisfied smirk. “i asked you to stop poking me— nicely. you didn’t. play stupid games, win stupid prizes.”

your husband groans loudly, dropping his forehead onto the edge of the table. “but aren’t three warnings customary before punishment?”

“for children, maybe,” you hum distractedly. “not adult men who are trying to distract me from this spreadsheet.”

you pause, briefly glancing up at him, brow raised. “and don’t pretend you didn’t like it.”

“biting is for the bedroom only. which is where we should be because i’m tired,” he whines, turning his head so his cheek is smushed against the table. “it’s almost midnight and we both have work in the morning.”

you check your notes before filling in another column. “you know where the bedroom is.”

“come with me,” he begs, dragging himself up off the table and walking around to where you’re seated, wrapping his arms around your waist and nudging his face into your neck. “you’ve been working late the past two nights. you need to sleep.”

“i can’t,” you sigh for the dozenth time tonight. “i need to finish this first.”

“you’d rather fill in spreadsheets than turn in with your sweet, sweet, husband?” you feel him pout against your skin. “i think that’s grounds for divorce.”

you roll your eyes, turning your head a little to press a little kiss to his cheek. “husbands are replaceable. jobs are forever.”

that just makes him whine louder, pulling away to walk to the opposite end of the table. “okay, you’ve left me no choice. it’s time to bring out the big guns.”

“tetsu, if you take your shirt off—”

you scrunch your nose when his shirt hits you in the face, falling into your lap.

against your better judgement, you sneak a glance at him. he’s standing shirtless and cross-armed, putting toned biceps and abs on display, staring straight at you. “for every minute you don’t come to bed, i’m removing one article of clothing.”

“you only have two other things on,” you point out, using your pen to gesture to the plaid pyjama pants.

“then i guess you only have two minutes.”

you shake your head a little, trying your best to focus on the numbers on your laptop screen. “are you seriously trying to seduce me into healthier sleeping patterns?”

he shrugs, sending you a sly grin. “is it working?”

it was, admittedly. late nights at work or doing work had carved into a considerable amount of alone time with kuroo. lately, the two of you had been so tired that you’d knock right out as soon as your heads hit the pillows, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t missed your late night chats in bed.

he also looked really good. had he been—

“and before you ask, yes, i’ve been going to the gym with akaashi. guy’s got a solid routine.”

well, you certainly couldn’t argue with that.

so you close your laptop, stretching a bit before pushing out of your chair and shuffling over to his side. “okay, fine, you win this time.”

“it never fails,” kuroo just laughs, throwing an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in to plant a kiss on your forehead. “i swear, it’s like you only married me for my body or something. which i’m totally okay with, by the way.”

“of course,” you scoff, playfully pinching his side. “because when i get fired and we can’t pay bills, we’re going to have to sell your body to put food on our table.”

“hey, i’d be an amazing prostitute. want me to prove it?”

this is the perfect grade of good luck

reblog in 5 seconds and all of your grades will inch ever closer to perfect

Yamaguchi’s type is……..

"look at the pretty dress daddy bought me!" your daughter twirls a few times until she loses balance, your husband catching her before she falls.

"its very pretty baby." you squat down to brush your daughters hair away from her face, brushing down the dress and leaving a kiss on her cheek, "can you braid my hair too mommy? please?"

"sure thing, go and get your hair ties and the clips okay?" she nods, running up the stairs towards her bathroom.

you turn back to suna, eyeing the shopping bags in his hands as he drops them to the floor.

"rin, i thought we had agreed on not buying anymore clothes for her right now." you wrap your arms around your husbands neck, and his hands make their way to your lower back. one hand sliding under your shirt to rub at your back.

"i don't remember agreeing to that." suna pecks your lips once before leaving a kiss on your forehead.

"i can see you smirking."

"you're imagining things babe." you giggle and roll your eyes, "we agreed to that because her closet is overfilling and we have no where to hang anything anymore," you run your hand through the hair on the back of his head, "if she asks, will you just have another closet built for her?" you smile and tilt your head.

he laughs and sighs, "baby, you can't blame me. she has your eyes, and i can never say no when she pulls the little puppy dog eyes you both do when you want something."

"mhm. sure."

"and if either of you asked, id just buy you a separate house to keep all the clothes you could want."

"really? that so very practical suna."

"incredibly practical and realistic, suna."

you tsk, "that was cheesy."

you drop your head onto his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist and closing your eyes when he kisses the top of your head.

"mommy, come upstairs! and bring daddy too!"

you look at at suna, your chin resting on his chest, "cmon, she probably wants to do your makeup," you grab his hand and bring him with you towards the stairs. turning back you smile at him, "and this time i won't stop her from using the glitter on you."

"babe, you know that never comes out."

"oh i know. its what you deserve for not listening to me." you stick your tongue out at him and begin going up the stairs, yelping when you feel a pinch on your thigh.

whipping your head around you narrow your eyes at him ready to snap at him but he says, "i love you."

you roll your eyes, "i love you too."

"i know pretty. so that's why im begging. no glitter."

can i request Tsukishima Kei having a psychologist s/o? Headcanons or a scenario, whichever is okay! Maybe something like how their relationship would be, with them being very empathetic and understanding and stuff hihi thank you!!!

MY FIRST REQUEST! Here you go sweet anon <3 My interpretation of your lovely idea. "ADMITTANCES" Pairing: Tsukishima x Fem!Reader

Rating/Warnings: T for Teen, this is SOFT BOY HOURS PART 2

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: Your boyfriend isn't the type the open up; your psychology degree pays off, sometimes.

Note: Fluff. Good to know we're all desperate to see salty boys go soft.

“Y’know, you’re awfully quiet for someone who just won a tournament.”

Tsukishima slips on his hoodie, water dripping off his hair from his shower. You watch him shrug from your cozied place on the couch. “They weren’t aggressive enough. I knew we’d get them on the second set.”

You smile at his calculating tone. “And you guys had the better defence,” you say with a wink, and it makes him crack the smile you’d been waiting for all night.

“That, too,” he murmurs. He rubs at his eyes, and moves toward you. You hand him his glasses and he gifts you a kiss on the top of your head in return. He slumps into the couch with a sigh, massaging at his hands. You watch him for a moment before reaching out gently to take his hands into your own, rubbing at his palms and wrists. Tsukishima rests his head on the back of the couch. “Thanks,” he says, closing his eyes.

“Movie or early night?” you ask. He cracks open an eye to peak at you.

“Movie? I might pass out though.”

You flicker the T.V. to life and click on something easy and light for background noise. You continue to rub at his hands, watching the lines of his face soften at your touch. “Can I ask you something?” He hums his assent before you continue. “Are you excited you won?” you ask, after a breath.

He raises his brows at your practised tone, without opening his eyes. “Is this a girlfriend question or a psychology student question?”

“This is a girlfriend question,” you assure, but then, unable to help yourself, you add, “though I am noting your subtle deflection tactic.”

He groans, but you can tell he’s amused. “I’m too tired to be excited.”

You squint your eyes at him. “I just noticed—”

“I’m sure you did,” he interjects, but smirks and turns his head on the back cushions to look at you. “Am I being observed right now?”

“People are always observing people. I just know what to look for,” you say primly, making your boyfriend snort.

Tsukishima plays along. Despite his sore muscles and drooping eyes, he has always enjoyed the mental back and forth with you. “Okay, what are you looking for then?”

You press your lips together in contemplation. Tsukishima’s eyes soften, watching you hesitate. “I dunno. You’re always so hard on yourself after games. You never celebrate, even if you do well.”

“When you have your own office, I probably wouldn’t start a sentence off with ‘I dunno.’” You scowl playfully at his teasing.

“You’re deflecting again.”

“No, I’m flirting with you,” he says pointedly. His mouth is an impassive line but his eyes are glinting. “You should learn the difference before you get clients.”

You roll your eyes to conceal your pleasure at his compliment. “I don’t plan on being flirted with at my office.”

“I don’t think you have control over how pretty you are,” he counters. His voice is neutral, almost bored, but you can see him fighting a smile.

You try to match his tone, but you’re flustered, just a little. He did that to you, unexpectedly often. “When did you become such a smooth talker?”

He shrugs faintly. “I’m not, I’m just deflecting.” He’s smug.

“You—” you break off, with an incredulous grin. “You’re a difficult case, aren’t you?”

He looks at you from over his glasses, like he’s inspecting you. “Well, let’s see, what does it say about you that you’re dating me? You like projects?” He’s pushing your buttons on purpose, playing with you. It makes you stern, which makes Tsukishima grin –a rare flash of his winning smile. In retaliation, you clamber onto his lap. He grabs onto your hips with ease. You wouldn’t have guessed it, when you first started dating Tsukishima, but now you know how much he loves your affection and touch and attention. He rarely shows it, but you can feel it in the way his hands hold you close.

“You trying to turn the tables on me, Kei?” You lean in close to his face.

His touches the tip of you nose with his, eyes fluttering shut briefly. The sweetness of that small gesture disarms you. There’s an openness with him when it’s just the both of you in private. “Just giving you a taste of your own medicine.”

You sigh, shaking your head. You take in his face with your eyes. “When was the last time you got excited about something?” you try again.

He lets out a gusty breath. “Last week. When I walked in on you trying on my Frogs jersey,” he answers quickly.

Your face gets hot at the memory. “You’re trying to distract me,” you admonish.

“Does it matter?” he mumbles. “I’m just not excitable.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” you say softly. “I think you don’t let yourself get excited about anything because you’re scared you’ll be disappointed. Like you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop. And that hurts you.”

He flinches, brows furrowing. You watch him try to hide his reaction to your words but he can’t.

“Sorry. Too much?” you ask, after his silence stretches.

His jaw twitches as he clenches and unclenches it. He’s looking everywhere but your eyes, which is quite a feat considering how close you are. He lets out a short little huff, turning his head from you. He’s annoyed, suddenly, and though the girlfriend in you is sorry to have made him so, the observer in you knows it’s a mark closer to vulnerability than his easy, teasing amusement. You know he can get snippy like this, but then you also know how hard he’s trying to be open to you.

So instead of a barbed counter, he says, “You’re not wrong.” The words are quiet and grudgingly said, but as they leave him so does his irritation. You know it took a lot to say that much. You see the line between his brows smooth at his admittance. You run a gentle hand through his damp hair. Tsukishima lets out a breath again, this time resigned. He gives your earnest, wide-eyed look a sliver of a wry smile. “Happy?”

“Kind of.” You rub a thumb at his temple. “It makes me sad to hear, though.”

He reaches up to hold your wrist loosely. “Don’t be sad. You’re not wrong, but you’re not a hundred percent right, either.” His smile turns sly.

Your brows flicker up at that. “No?”

“There are some things I let myself get excited about,” he says. He tilts his head up and you tilt your head down to catch his waiting lips. “Can I show you?” he asks, when you two part. Maybe he’s deflecting again, maybe he’s flirting, but you know these admittances from him happen in baby steps.

Instead of pushing for more, you let out an amused little sound. “I thought you were so tired.”

“All your psychoanalyzing must have woken me up.” He pulls you in, closer, closer. Closer than you know most anyone gets; that spot in his lap, that perch in his heart. When his gaze flickers to you, you see it, the secret flash of real joy. He’s letting you see it, you realize. He’s showing you this part of himself, a part that’s just for you. When he smiles again, it’s not teasing, or sharp, or wry. Your breath stutters with the sincerity of it.

“Show me,” you breathe, and he lifts you up and up, and carries you into the room you both share, in the home you’ve both made and earned, with each other and within each other.

summary: it’s the little things that make him realize he’s in love (alternatively: the four times suna pretended to be asleep and the one time he didn’t). 

pairing: suna x reader

genre/warnings: fluff, n/a

wc: 3.5k

i. 

( a blanket )

Despite the gray clouds overhead and the scent of lingering ochre, rain refused to fall. Hyogo was cast into a monochromatic haze, colors washed and worn away. Suna stares out the window in your living room instead of working on the next math problem, lethargy crawling into the hollows between his bones. His gaze flickers over to you where you’re sitting on the other side of the coffee table, chin propped in the palm of your hand, writing calmly in your workbook. 

Tutor turned friend, you’d been helping him with his homework since the middle of second year, and he’d grown used to your presence. Unlike his teammates, you didn’t require him to spend copious amounts of energy just to keep up with the conversation, and so at the start of third year he’d accepted your invitation to study on weekends together. 

He looks back down at the half-finished problem. He didn’t actually get much studying done, but the quiet ambiance of your house was preferable to the cluttered noise of his; having younger siblings and parents with naturally loud voices meant it was rarely silent.

Plus, Atsumu and Osamu didn’t know where you lived, so they couldn’t drag him into another one of their weekend adventures that would ultimately result in disaster. 

(He was still annoyed at narrowly escaping arrest. It took a lot of energy to jump a fence.)

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