bokutosmochi

[bokutosmochi]

dude if no ones told you yet, you're amazing like seriously, not only is your writing so much fun to read but its sk unique and special like thsnk you for writing ?? you deserve the entire world love u

hi honey! thank you so much for the kind words <33 i love putting these silly little guys into Situations and i'm glad you like them too

this ask gave me so much inspiration that i decided to write another fic, dedicated to you, nonnie <3

you can find it here

[bokutosmochi]

EDITS ♡ MIYA ATSUMU

miya atsumu x gn!reader

ingredients? free publicity for the team plus you, his darling partner being petty? you can bet that atsumu miya's in!

what's it? mostly humor, but also some fluff

allergen warning/s? a suggestive moment, a fluffy moment

sugar level? 3.1k

regulars? N/A but taglist is open! comment, send an ask, or a dm to join

parlor's note? i'd like to start this by saying i have nothing against the type of people i am going to be mentioning in this fic. i am one of those people. i just thought the gist of this fic would be a nice fun time.

inspired by me watching nishida during the vnl, watching edits, and of course, the sweetest anon.

bon appetit

the window's open, the curtains pulled apart, letting the ohasuhigashi breeze chill in your bedroom.

where the wind touched atsumu's hair, it danced like the most pristine gold silk.

the muscles in his back rippled as he moved, and as it rippled, it sang a siren's song calling out for you to touch it, for you to graze gentle fingertips along the smooth planes of it and kiss the moles you've kissed so many times before.

his bicep, looking as though molded by the gods, flexed as he stretched one arm across his shoulder, repeating the movement for the other arm. the lighting did it favors, highlighting the contours of it, the very same ones atsumu worked so hard on achieving. sufice to say, his time busying himself at the gym paid off.

and his thighs, his muscular thighs, the subject of so many thirst tweets he hilariously had to read out for buzzfeed as a part of msby's promotional stunt for their upcoming bout with ejp raijin.

oh, the way his head grew after that video. for the next few days, gone was the cute, whiny atsumu you called your boyfriend. you wished he gave you the opportunity to say farewell before cocky, borderline cringey boyfriend atsumu made his appearance. you can't really say you minded it that much though. as his loving, supportive partner, you knew how much time and effort he gave in order to gain quads like that, so it was nice to see it pay off, for people to acknowledge his hard work. and besides-

"hey, baby" his raspy morning voice unfortunately interrupted your ogling. as quick as lightning, your eyes moved from travelling down his bare godlike body to meeting his eyes through the mirror. he didn't look away.

-it wasn't like you didn't help with stroking his ego every now and again.

fuck, it was so hard not to do so, though. especially during times like these where he's standing in between the bed you laid in and the vanity. self assured about his looks as ever, he licked his lips, maintaining eye contact with you as he leaned over the desk, his hands carrying his weight on those fucking biceps flexing with effort, and winked.

whether he heard the tiny whimper that left your mouth, you'll never know, but at the very least, you know he didn't see how your thighs, covered by a thick warm blanket, rubbed against each other as a result of his ways.

as stated prior, not singing his praises is easier said than done.

"you enjoying the view, baby?"

"very much so." was your answer, but it was accompanied by you rolling your eyes at his antics.

"always knew you had great taste," he sighed, turning around and plopping into your bed, specifically, plopping right on top of you, kicking the offensive (for him because how dare it be between the two of you) blanket right off of you. he was careful, though, so the action is more reminiscent of a weighted blanket being on top of you rather than an olympic athletic crushing your body under his.

spellbound by the man you called your boyfriend, you couldn't help but run your fingers through his hair, marvelling at how soft they feel. the action made him vibrate out a faint hum. "knew it," he started, "'ya can't resist me." sadly, all you could do is roll your eyes.

it was true and the both of you knew it.

"das why you have yer little tiktok of me," he giggled like a school girl when bringing up the tiktok account you have that's dedicated to the setter who currently has his arms wrapped around your figure and snuggling into your chest like a content cat. or perhaps a content fox would be more appropriate for him.

you've always been a fan of fancams, video edits, whatever they're called. after all, what's not to like? they feature a character or person you admire, showing their best moments, and on top of that, there's neat music accompanying the clips. plus, they're short and sweet.

but it wasn't until you started watching atsumu play when you first thought of making said edits yourself.

he was magnetic on the court, possessing the ability to cast a spell on anyone he wished; his teammates, the opposing team, the audience, you. even an amateur would be able to point out how much of an asset he is to the team. and those abilities translate to him and his gorgeous, picture-perfect plays.

so after his game with the adlers, you concocted a list of your favorite atsumu plays which were the clips you used to make your very first edit: the first clip? a few second video from a game during his high school days. it was one against karasuno high school and he just executed a flawless overhand set that was not under normal circumstances. because of the previous plays, he had to squat down really low to do it, an undersand set would have sufficed, but ever the thoughtful setter, he did what was best for his spikers. then that clip transitioned to a more recent one of him doing a similar set, a set for his newest spiker (at the time) hinata.

what followed were the following clips: him running a hand through his sweaty hair, a confident smile on his lips, one of his famous service aces, him preparing to receive kageyama's serve, a bead of sweat running down the side of his face making him grab his jersey to wipe the perspiration off, a spike that blew through ushijima's block, him celebrating a win with his tongue lolled out of his mouth, and finally, his setter dump that got them a win in the fourth set during their olympic game with argentina.

add all those together, along with the song that went i saw her and she hit me like tadow as a cherry on top, then bam! you have yourself a viral edit.

you never would have expected it, but everyone gushed about your little creation. not only did it explode on tiktok, it exploded out of the app too, all the way to twitter, reddit, and instagram. you couldn't be more proud of yourself for such a magnificent first try, and atsumu couldn't be prouder of... himself. "ah please, 'ya never would have been able 'tah make it if i wasn't such a good player." he reasoned with you. it wasn't a total loss on your part, though. he gave you a kiss on the forehead as thanks for your hard work and free publicity.

you received many comments saying they forgot how hot volleyball players are and claiming they'll start watching again, much to your amusement.

"'ya know, i'm kind of surprised ya don't wanna keep me all to yerself," he mumbled, eyes closed, and at this point, half asleep; the reason why the setter missed you raising an eyebrow at him.

"all of the clips i use are stuff people can easily find, tsumu. it's not like i'm slutting you out for the whole world to see."

"mmmm, yer audience says otherwise..."

"about the clips being easy to find or me slutting you out?"

"bouf'" he yawned. "but if ya insist, i guess ya aren't doing 'tha. maybe i'm just that damn irresistible that yer putting regular stuff in and i already have 'tha girlies goin' crazy. and maybe the clips are easy to find." he referenced all the times you complained to him because of the amount of people asking you where each and every piece of your edit was taken from. "if yer as obssessed with me as you are, 'tha is."

you jokingly pushed him off of you, surprisingly moving him an inch or two. "i can be not obssessed if you, miya, if you prefer that. oikawa toru and tobio-chan are out there, y'know?"

that was a low blow and you knew it. "don't 'ya even dare." he reached to carefully pinch your nose. "'nd what's up with you and tobio??? why's he tobio-chan to you??" the whine in his tone was adorable, so much so it made you laugh. "nothing, 'tsumu. just playing with you." you squeezed his cheeks. "why? you jealous?"

"why 'tha hell would i ever be jealous of him? he ain't the best setter in the world, and he ain't the one with the prettiest, smartest, supportivest, meanest partner in the world."

"supportivest isn't a word."

"i hope 'ya were able to pick up meanest."

there was a little pause in the room, a moment where all that's heard was your sychronized breathing before atsumu opened his mouth to talk again.

"seriously though, angel. i don't thank you enough for everything you've done for me. not all of us have partners as supportive as you are." he gazed up at you with honeyed eyes, fingers tracing over your face, your features, your jawline, your cheeks.

"'tsumu, you know i'd move heaven and earth for you."

"'ya come to all of my games when yer job lets ya, if i ask ya about a play i made, ya always remember in what game i did it. and sometimes when it's a play ya really liked, ya even remember what set it happened."

"you're an amazing player, 'tsumu. i'd do anything to help you play at your full potential."

".... even slutting me out to the world wild web as free advertising," his tone became sarcastically thoughtful. "does 'tha seriously not bother 'ya?"

"no, you've never given me a reason to be worried or insecure about our relationship. they can have all that content as long as i can have you," you weren't done talking yet but you hear atsumu murmur an always at your words. "and besides, your sweetest, sexiest moments are ones only i can see..." atsumu's hand went under your shirt to trail his fingers on your bare skin as your brain trailed elsewhere, an idea sparking itself to life.

"oh my god," you said excitedly, not at all the noise he was expecting you to make. despite the goosebumps raising on your skin and dull ache between your thighs, you continued to squeal at him. "i thought of another edit to make."

amusement painted itself on his lips because of the way you were so giddy, because of the way you pried his hands off of you to shake it with happiness. he found himself being happy too, even though he doesn't have a clue what exactly it is you thought of. he was going to change that though, "so, aren't 'ya gonna let me in this little idea of yers?"

"okay so, you know how people who keep asking me where i found edit clips over and over again annoy me a teeny tiny bit?"

"yeah" yeah, as in, yeah he still has no idea where you're going with this.

"what if i made an edit where one of the clips is just a video i take of you here, like, in our private life, a clip they won't find on youtube or tiktok or volleyball tv or something?" you knew he would be on board with the idea. after all, the two of you wouldn't be together for such a long time if you weren't on similar wavelengths, but it's reassuring to hear atsumu's guffaw all the same.

he took your face in his large hands and kissed you on the lips, complete with an obnoxious smack! when he pulled away. "oh my, yer an evil genius, baby. dunno how this'll help with yer problem 'bout all the comments, but i beg ya ta do it."

and with that, you were formulating your plan.

without a shadow of a doubt, the edits that did the best on your account were thirst edits. the ones that focused more on the physical appeal of your boyfriend rather than his skills, and being petty, you wanted this particular edit of yours to do very well so it was decided it was going to be a thirst edit. gathering the clips available to the public was easy enough. you have several playlists on youtube filled with atsumu videos, curated depending on the type of edit that you were going for.

atsumu sad :(

atsumu cute :3

atsumu's greatest plays vol 1

atsumu's greatest plays vol 2

atsumu's greatest plays vol 3

were the playlists you scrolled through until you found the one you're looking for.

atsumu being hawt 🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵 (and yes, he was the one to name that playlist. you thought eleven of those emojis was excessive while he thought it was perfect because "c'mon angelface, eleven's ma jersey number! eleven of those lil thirsty emojis should be a given!")

you landed on the videos considered your favorites as well as videos at the end of the playlist because that's where the ones you haven't used for edits yet was located.

in the end, you ended up with nine clips which you got from youtube, and twenty photos from pinterest (atsumu's public instagram is surprisingly tasteful because of the team's pr team. his private one however is another story) in addition to that, you also already have an audio to use in mind; goodies by ciara, a song you've heard on tiktok that went sexy, independent, down to spend it type that's gettin' his dough, i'm not being too dramatic, that's the way I gotta have it.

now, the only thing that's left is that one clip that has to have the audience wondering where the hell you got it from.

your ever-supportive boyfriend helped you brainstorm since he loved the idea as much as you did, and you guys ended up with a few good ideas;

him wiping sweat off of himself bare chested ("angellll," he whined. "you know damn well i can make it look hot.") with his jersey or a fluffy white towel.

him fixing his hair.

him doing bicep curls while shirtless (while his team does post workout videos of themselves, they're always fully clothed). the next idea being this, but he does push ups instead.

and lastly, a shot of him performing kabedon on the person behind the camera (it'll be a pov shot so the person watching knows what it would look like if the atsumu miya performed kabedon on them).

although some, such as him fresh out of the shower with only a towel wrapped around his waist or him getting on top of you (similar to the kabedon idea. you were to be filming him getting on top of you so people watching would know what it would look like if he got on top of them), or him getting on his knees in front of you (again, similar to prior idea and kabedon idea) had to be scraped because it would cause trouble for him backstage and you didn't quite want it to go that far.

in the end, you chose option number four: him doing push ups while shirtless, and with that, he got to his workout of the day (thankfully it's off season for volleyball so he didn't have much going for today, only exercising, checking emails, and a few hours of practice which were to take place later in the afternoon) while you got to filming.

atsumu gave up the comfiest couch in your living room for you while you edited the video, and ever the sweetheart, cooked you your favorite meal, checking emails at the same time. he knew the result of the sacrifices (he really loves that comfy couch and is thinking of buying another one so you don't have to play rock, paper, scissors for it every time) he was making was going to be worth it.

and it was.

"damn, angel. you made me look hotter than i already am." he praised your work clearly in shock, earning him a kiss to his jaw from you.

"oh baby, yer gonna have them eating off of the palm of yer pretty hands."

after that, you immediately posted it on tiktok with the caption this man cannot actually exist, i'm in love which was a nod to the fact that one of the clips you added in does not actually exist on the internet.

as you expected, it was a hit with your followers. within a minute, your phone was going crazy with notifications. the first few ones were only from people who didn't make edits (and people who you assumed were just casual atsumu fans since they felt no need to ask you about that clip) as they only complimented your work.

Gojo's Left Middle Finger Fingernail: my favorite used to be ushijima, but you're making an atsumu miya believer out of me

KENTOLUVVER: .. i know damn well kageyama's a better setter, but atsumuuuuu

(you didn't agree with this)

kyugisakiiz: this edit served as good as atsumu's serve 😌

minedaikiao: that's my future husband right there

(you don't really agree with this one either)

rickyyy: bro atsumu is soo fine

flower power bowser: girl, imagine an atsumu edit to honeypie. i would lose my mind

but soon after that, the fans you affectionately call certified atsumu girlies (fans who would ask you where a clip is from because they're interested in that video, not in an editor perspective) and the editors came pouring in.

msby filmzzz: ummmm, atsumu's push upsss??? hello?????? where is that from

hearts for tsumu: i can't believe in my two years of editing for atsumu, there's still a vid out there i haven't watched yet

atsumu's #1 girl: girl, i'm gonna need you to do me a favor and tell me where that push up clip is from

4TSUMUM1Y4: can you please send me the link to the fourth clip? can't seem to find it

in which case atsumu, not to be outdone in pettiness, came up with an idea of his own, copy and pasting a link to rick astley's never gonna give you up as a reply to the queries.

i get: reblog

you get: a copy of this edit

[bokutosmochi]

its so freeing when you realize you can literally write whatever you want 

[bokutosmochi]

*you don't have to have posted any, just written some

[bokutosmochi]

same bed trope ft kageyama tobio

wc: 400

i live to torture him <3

--

It’s the middle of the night when Kageyama is roused from his sleep. He watches you flip his duvet to climb into his side, scandalously at ease in your trespassing of someone else’s bed. You yawn, eyes drooping, completely unaware – or uncaring – that the neckline of his shirt that you’ve borrowed dips dangerously low as you knee your way in. 

“Wha-” he exclaims. “Go back to the couch!” 

You murmur a petulant sound of refusal and something else about how it’s cold. 

Kageyama continues to protest, attempting to pry your arms from around his waist as gently as possible, but to no avail. His cheeks are most definitely completely red and unlike you, who seems to be shamelessly content, he is wide awake. 

He nearly hyperventilates when he feels your legs tangle with his, one thigh shoving itself in between his. The worst of it all is that Kageyama, in his sleep shorts, can feel the smooth skin of your bare legs against his. He can’t be imagining the feeling of the hem of your shorts riding up and your panty-covered crotch pressing against his bare upper thigh and- 

“Get off!” He's full-on panicking now, trying everything he can to pry you off but unable to bring himself to put his hands on your exposed thighs. “Please, oh my god. Just let go. I’ll go to the couch. You can have the bed!” he negotiates.

It’s fruitless. You shift even closer, nuzzling into his side and unconsciously grinding your heat into him. Kageyama almost squeaks when you brush against him, half hard. 

“Mmm,” you mumble, apparently satisfied with your position. 

Kageyama has no choice but to roll onto his back, one arm thrown over his face and the other taken captive under your torso. This is torture. He thinks thoughts of Oikawa, Hinata, Tsukishima, Miya Atsumu, anyone who’ll make thoughts of you and your bare legs go away. 

He peeks at you from under his arm, sighing as you continue to doze, blissfully unaware of his predicament.  

The last bit of his self-restraint goes into pulling the blanket back over your intertwined bodies and folding his body around yours. You push your face deeper into his chest.

It’s through sheer willpower that he makes it through the night with nothing more than innocent touches and a saint’s temperament that he suffers through your teasing when you wake up to his morning wood.

[bokutosmochi]

in a world of boys, he's a gentleman

summary: a creep walks up to the shake stand window. your favorite customer scares him off. (college au!iwaizumi x you)

wc: 1.9k

cw/tags: college!au iwaizumi, creepy dude but he gets scared off don't worry, buff iwa gets nervous around you

note: so there's a protein shake stand like right outside my school's gym and that's where the inspiration for this little brain fart came from. also this is wholeheartedly dedicated to @shotorus my favorite iwa simp. i really hope you like this, it's my first time writing for your man but it most definitely will not be the last :D

likes, replies, and reblogs are appreciated <3

You didn’t anticipate finding a gym crush outside of the student rec center. Yet, there he was, every day at 5:00 passing the stand and every day at 6:30 ordering his usual, strawberries and bananas with chocolate protein powder. It’s a wonder how strictly he stuck to his schedule and you made it a point to have his order queued up in the system by the time he got to the window. To your detriment, it seemed that your infatuation had become obvious enough to your usually-oblivious coworkers. 

“At this point, I think you took this job just to ogle him,” one of your friends points out as she runs a colander of fruit under the faucet. You give her a lighthearted glare and she flicks a few water droplets at you. “I’d guess you like seeing him more than the tips that other guys put in the jar. You really do so much for this company,” she says patronizingly and you roll your eyes. She had a point; you tended not to notice the phone numbers written on dirty napkins or social media handles hastily drawn on dollar bills. None of them interested you. None of them, except for the dude with a body like a Greek hero that made you want to get kidnapped by some mythological being. 

“I just think he has a nice physique; is that such a bad thing?” She shoots you a skeptical look and you turn away sheepishly to check the clock. Thirty seconds to 6:30. “He should be here in a little bit,” you say quietly to yourself, hoping she doesn’t hear. It’s a nice sentiment, but ultimately futile. 

“You’re counting down the seconds? Man, you’re worse than I thought.” She pats your shoulder sympathetically as she passes behind you and you lean your hands on the register counter. 

“As if you’ve never had a gym crush before,” you fire back. 

“You’re supposed to actually be inside the gym to have a gym crush,” she reminds you and you groan. “Why don’t you just switch your shift so you can see him while you workout?”

“I tutor before this, remember? Plus, I need to be able to charm the evening regulars so I can keep paying rent,” you admit. She nods in understanding and a glance at the clock shows ten seconds until 6:30. Your other usuals had come and gone for the day: the guy in the blue tank top that only seemed to work his forearms and biceps, the girl with the silly socks that had the most muscular calves you’d ever seen, the two frat bros with their backwards caps and arrogant voices. It hits 6:30, however, and your favorite regular isn’t behind the glass. He isn’t anywhere around, you realize. You can’t help the frown that draws the corner of your mouth down and, when you look to your coworker for support, she merely shrugs before grabbing a tub of powder from the top shelf. “It’s odd that he isn’t here yet.”

“Only you would think that,” she teases and you refocus on pulling up his usual order on the payment screen. “Maybe he got sick. There’s that frat flu going around right now.”

“Why would he be in a frat, though? And also, he’s definitely the type to wipe the hell out of every machine he uses.”

“If he uses machines; personally, he strikes me as a free weights-only kind of guy.” Before you can reply, a knock on the glass startles you back into customer-service mode. The man in front of you looked relatively normal, but the way his eyes looked you up and down several times made your stomach queasy. It wasn’t the first time creeps had checked you out through the window, but maybe you were feeling a little extra vulnerable waiting around for a regular who didn’t even know your name. Avoiding the man’s intrusive gaze, you shakily pull up his order, swipe his card for payment, and let him know that his shake would be ready soon. 

“I have a question,” he says slowly before you can run and hide in the back. “What time are you out of here?”

“I’m not done for a while,” you state vaguely, praying that he wouldn’t ask about the remaining two and a half hours of your shift. “I work until closing.”

“I can come back and get you when you close.” His voice makes your skin crawl and his eyes feel like knives on your body.

“Excuse me?”

“Let me take you out to dinner. A nice looking person like you shouldn’t be alone at night.” Your heart drops into your stomach and your feet remain rooted to the floor, terrified in place. Was he gonna try to do something after you were off?

“Look, I’m not interested in any–”

“Hey, man. Are you done ordering yet? You’re holding up the line,” intrudes a voice that feels like a warm blanket wrapping around your shoulders. Somewhere between his usual order time and the creep asking you out, your favorite little crush came to stand in line to pay. His shoulders seemed extra broad today and the muscle of his biceps flexed under his compression shirt as he crossed his arms over his chest, staring daggers down at the guy who was freaking you out. He’d never looked so handsome, all sharp jawline and flexed muscles and piercing eyes. The creep recoils and scurries away, allowing you to take a deep breath that helps relieve some of the tension in your forehead. By pure muscle memory and running on adrenaline, your fingers swipe over the tablet and pull up his usual order before he can even say hello. 

“Strawberry and banana with chocolate protein powder, right?”

“Yeah, that…that’s mine,” he says, slightly taken aback by the lingering expression of panic on your face. While he eyes you warily, you swipe his card and hand him his receipt, suddenly desperate to just disappear into the back for the rest of your shift. “Hey, are you okay?”

“What? No, yeah. I’m fine, totally fine,” you lie and give him a weak smile. His eyebrows furrow slightly and you can feel him try to analyze you, but not in the dehumanizing way as your previous customer. His eyes searched your expression worriedly and you caught him biting skin from his lip in concern. “It’s just that the guy before you was being a little weird.” Calling him “weird” was an understatement, but you didn’t want to inconvenience him more than you already have. “I’m fine, really.” He watches you for a moment more and then nods, murmuring a thank you under his breath and finding a spot to wait for his shake. 

“This fell on the floor by the trash can,” he says plainly when he walks up to the pickup window after you call out his drink. The creepy guy hadn’t left the area yet, so your fight or flight instincts were still going haywire. Your gym crush, however, momentarily takes your attention by subtly sliding a dirty piece of paper across the counter to you as he picks up his cup with the other hand. “Thanks; I’ll see you tomorrow.” Before you can blink, he’s gone, leaving you with a cryptic folded message that makes your head spin. You sputter out an awkward farewell and hastily unfold the piece of paper. 

I’ll be studying in the computer lab until the stand closes. If he’s still bothering you, come find me and I’ll walk you to your car or your dorm or wherever. -Iwaizumi Hajime 

A sturdy rectangle of plastic falls from the paper and you stare at it in disbelief. It was an ID card for the university’s after-hours patrol division with his picture, full name, and student number printed on it. Iwaizumi, you echo mentally, you’re too good to be true. And, true to his promise, he’s a respectful distance away and stands with his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants at 9:00 when you lock up the shake stand. You’d lost sight of the creep an hour after Iwaizumi picked up his drink, but the paranoia didn’t leave your body and you’re only able to relax when he approaches you. 

“This is yours,” you say, handing him his ID card with a small smile. “Thank you for looking out for me.”

“Of course. I’m sorry you had to deal with him,” he replies regretfully, uncomfortably adjusting his water bottle tucked into the crook of his elbow. “None of the guys at the gym like him. He’s always hitting on girls and giving them weird looks.” 

“Looks like he was forced to look outside the gym, then,” you laugh lightly, feeling the tension release from your shoulders as you walk next to Iwaizumi in the direction of the parking lot. “Did your drink still taste okay? Or did my nervousness make it taste funny?” When he chuckles, it sounds like sunshine. 

“It was just as tasty as it always is, thank you. You’ve really figured out how to make me the perfect drink every time.”

“Anything for my favorite customer,” you say without hesitation and your face feels like it’s been lit on fire. To your surprise, however, it seemed that Iwaizumi was just as flustered by your words. His eyes widen and his pretty mouth gapes a little bit, blinking rapidly to fix the short circuit in his brain. “I just hope he doesn’t come around here again. He makes my stomach churn.”

“Yeah, I get that,” he forces out and he’s silent for a while until your car is in sight. “Hey, sorry if this is super off-base, but do you wanna workout with me sometime? I can change the time I go but, if it means you don’t feel scared by that guy anymore, I’ll gladly rearrange my schedule.” 

“You want me to workout with you?”

“I’d like to meet you for lunch sometime, too, but I figured I’d start with baby steps,” he admits, running a hand nervously through his hair while you fish your keys from your bag. “If you don’t want to, that’s totally fine–”

“No, no, I’d love to,” you reassure him and he looks visibly relieved. “I’ll change up my shift so you can still go around the same time you usually do, and I can just meet you outside. I’ve been needing a new spotter since mine picked up extra shifts in the library.” 

“Great, yeah, awesome,” he says, a little dumbfounded by how eagerly you would give him a chance. If he was being honest, he’d wanted to ask you your name for months since you memorized his order, but he didn’t want to come off as pushy and ruin his chance with you. “Do you, uh, mind if I give you my number? Or I can give you a social media handle too if you’re not comfortable sharing your number.” God, he’s so good. He is so, so good. “Can you let me know you get home safe?”

“I will,” you promise. “Thank you for everything, Iwaizumi.”

“You can call me Hajime, if you want,” he offers softly and the fondness in his voice makes your heart flip. “Iwaizumi is fine too. Anything is fine.” 

“Right,” you smile. “Well, goodnight, Hajime. Get home safe.”

“You too. Talk soon, okay?”

“I can’t wait.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[bokutosmochi]

i know ft kiyoomi

warnings: fem!bodied reader, dirty talk, public indecency, mentions of bondage, unedited.

“kiyo would you rather fuck someone wearing a black dress or a white one?”

sakusa lifts his eyes from his phone, fixing you with an incredulous look.

“why are you asking me that in the middle of a very public dressing room, which i’m probably not even supposed to be in right now?”

“it’s literally 2pm and the store is practically empty kiyo. besides, i doubt the workers are paid enough to care anyway.”

“that’s not what i asked.”

rolling your eyes, you push the door of the dressing room open further, revealing the short, white dress you had on.

“i haven’t been laid in such a long time, and i have a good feeling about this weekend. i wanna make sure i look, y'know, fuckable or something.”

a muscle in sakusa’s jaw twitches as he glances over the dress, still leaning against the wall opposite to your dressing room, phone clutched in hand.

“okay, first of all fuckable isn’t a real word. secondly, what sort of bastard are you dating who’ll decide if he likes you based on your dress?”

pressing your lips together you squint at him, walking forward to grab his arm.

“ki-yo-omi, it’s not that deep, just tell me if you would rather fuck someone in a white dress or a black one.”

“if it’s someone i’m interested in, their clothing would not matter.”

hiding a grin, you shake your head slightly. your best friend really was leagues apart from most men you had met.

“okay so the white one then?”

shrugging, sakusa straightens, slipping his phone into the pocket of his dark slacks. “get whatever dress you want, if you’d like i could buy you both.”

“kiyo, just say you wouldn’t fuck me next time,” you whine, “stop avoiding the question.”

a hand catches your wrist as you turn to go back to change your clothes, sakusa’s fingers warm against your skin.

“i never said i wouldn’t fu- i wouldn’t have sex with you. stop putting words into my mouth.”

“fuck kiyo, fuck me. say it properly c'mon, we’re not kids anymore.”

scowling he lets go of your hand, “don’t be a brat.”

“oh yeah? and what are you going to do about it?”

you hear him scoff as you move to close the door, only to have the door be pushed back and find yourself pushed against a mirrored wall, the door clicking closed behind sakusa.

“kiyo, what the hell-”

“you think i don’t want to fuck you? you think i don’t fantasize about tying you up and making you beg for me?”

he moves closer, pressing a hand to the mirror beside your head, the other hand slipping inside your dress to grip your hip.

“do you have any idea what you do to me? how i feel like a complete caveman, devoid of any sense of rationality every time you show up in those little skirts? all i can ever think of is how much i want to flip them up and fuck you until you cry.”

you whimper, pussy clenching around nothing as sakusa’s lips brush against yours’, his thumb lazily stroking hipbone.

“every time you come whining about how some boy couldn’t make you cum, or left you unsatisfied, all i can think of is how i could make you cum without even making you take any clothes off- how i could make you cream around my dick so many times.

your lips part, as you moan, sakusa’s fingers now slipping into your soaked panties.

fingers lightly tracing your pussy, he sighs into the crook of your neck.

” i would fuck you in each and every one of your dresses.“

your eyes slide shut as he presses down your throbbing clit, head hitting against the mirror with a thud.

however instead of continuing, he moves away, "i’ll pay for both dresses and meet you outside, i’m sure he’ll fuck you regardless.”

[bokutosmochi]

yeah manwhore gojo is great but what about touch starved gojo who fantasises holding your hand. spends his nights dreaming about the way you would feel cuddled in his arms. his entire face red and blushing at the mere thought of your lips chastely pressing against his. he can't stay thinking about that too long though because it'll result in him giggling and kicking his feet all night and getting no sleep.

gojo who sits downs next to you and almost combusts feeling your soft thigh lightly pressing against his. he just yearns to be close to you in any way possible. his leg wrapped around yours whilst you're sitting opposite each other, his pinkie always reaching for you. he's always blushy and giggly around you and it's the most adorable thing ever. this man loves you so much and he's not afraid to show it at all. he wears the simp title like a badge of honour.

it's not just physically either. he no longer thinks in his own voice. his entire brain has literally been rewired ever since meeting you. your voice is always replaying in his head, the way you say his name is on repeat 24/7. the sweet little nicknames you give him too.

like yes, he is your sweet little cuddlebug and he is your cutie patootie blue eyes white dragon. and he's so proud of it. yk those titles people have after their names like DClinPsy and MBBS, he has that in his bio too, but it's just silly little nicknames you've given him.

this man is a true loverboy through and through.

[bokutosmochi]

i absolutely agree that xreader can be so healing and promote self love and acceptance in unique and powerful ways but also it lets you fuck nasty with your faves and i think that is just so beautiful

[bokutosmochi]

years and decades into your marriage with satoru he still treats you with the utmost love and care just like back in the day when he was still chasing after you. when you first started dating his hand would shake slightly when holding yours. those big hands of his trying to adjust the strength of his grip around your hand, carefully calculating how to hold you good enough without squeezing too hard but still firm enough so you won’t ever slip away. years and decades into your marriage he still holds you like that. his hands don’t shake anymore but his grip is still as tenderly solid. you know there’s no way out of his hand.

years and decades into your marriage he still spoils you just like in the beginning, even more in fact. gifts, vacations all over the globe, dates in luxury restaurants, renting the entire cinema hall for just the two of you—he still wants to impress you just like back in the day (and show off a little, too). but little things like long morning cuddles, hand feeding you breakfast in bed, washing your hair, drying it for you afterward, pillow talks at night — those are all tiny rituals that you two built over time but even years and decades into your marriage he sticks to them religiously every day.

you ask him one night, during a pillow talk, how come he’s still like this, even after all the years. his answer is spoken in a low voice, with a little bit sleep in it — “because i love you”, he pauses. but you know there’s more to come, so you keep silent and listen — “and because i want to spoil you so rotten you can’t ever live without me”

[bokutosmochi]

what about vampirehutner!gojo with vamprie!reader?? like you're forced to marry each other to calm down your respective sides, both of you despising each other the moment you meet.

you two barely speak, never see each other even when you're finally forced to live at his (rather large) estate, huffing whenever you pass by. it's awful and you hate it, but you know you have to stick by it. at least for the next year or so.

you never eat dinner with him, partly due to the fact that the humans think that vampires just don't consume anything other than blood, so you're basically either in your room, sleeping, or walking around the estate, wishing the hours would go by faster.

and it's hard to hate him as much as you've been conditioned to. gojo's so nice to his servants, so understanding with his men. if you didn't see him getting prepared to go on hunts (animal ones), you would have almost forgotten who he was to begin with.

and you miss the way he looks at you, the rare moments he gets to. eyes crinkling around the edges when he watches you in the garden, smelling the flowers he had planted before you came, shaking his head to get rid of the thoughts. but he stares at your face, your canines, and feels his face turn beet red, shying away in embarrassment because he could still hear his mothers words saying how gruesome vampires were. she never warned him that they could be so pretty.

it all comes to a heed when his men fail to bring back any animals, your blood supply empty for the following days until they could go hunting again.

"use me," your 'husband' mutters, eyes not meeting yours as he sits on his dining table, all the men gone from the room as he told them to leave.

"what?" you almost snap, confused, searching his face to find any traces of humor.

"use me," he cranes his neck, giving you space in between his legs as he spreads them even further, "you need to drink, so use me."

and when you step between him, your teeth sinking down into his soft skin, it's never the same again. his blood is part of you, and whether you like it or not, you become interlinked in a way those silly human wedding bands never could.

[bokutosmochi]

geto suguru who never stops talking about you. he is a composed man but his ear perk up at the slightest mention of you or the things you like. you plagued his mind. he is always down the street thinking about what you'd be doing. all those desserts that he used to despise, have soon started getting comfortable on his taste buds just because you liked it. he didn't even notice how your habits started infecting him too. but a little change was nice. you are the only thing igniting the flame of his will to live when he himself is sabotaging the little fire, blowing it away.

the two girls he is raising ask him for your picture. he is shunned for a second but the shock merges into a smile. he whips out his phone and hands them to the girls.

"that's her. my wife."

"but...these are the pictures of the sky." they look at him with a confused expression only to find a tear roll down his eye.

"yes. isn't she beautiful? i hope she's doing fine there." they don't know how to reply except to tear up themselves.

"i hope i get to meet her. but with all that i've done in this life, i am sure i am going to hell." he looks up at the sky, the clouds dispersed and sunrays peeking. "although, it's fine. loving her was heaven on earth anyways."

[bokutosmochi]

i know it’s been said before, but it bears repeating: a big, big part of maintaining your confidence & self esteem as a creator is fully embracing the concept of “you don’t have to be good like them.  you can be good like you.”

for example, i’m not someone who’s particularly good at coming up with complex, elaborate plots or incredibly unique ideas.  it’s just not how i choose to write.  and it would be easy for me to look at someone with an elaborate, super unique plot & decide that because i don’t write like that, i’m not a good writer.  after all, unique plots are good, and my writing lacks those, so my writing must not be good, right?  well, no, actually.  i just have different strengths, like taking a simple premise & digging super deep into its emotional depths.  that’s what i do well & it isn’t any better or worse than people who do elaborate world building or come up with really creative and unexpected plots.

your writing is never going to be all things to all people.  it just isn’t.  inevitably, you’ll have to make creative choices that favor certain aspects of writing over others.  there is truly no getting around that & it’s honestly a good thing, because it means you’ve developed your own style.  but you’ll always encounter other creators who posses strengths that you don’t.  it doesn’t mean one is better than the other or that your writing isn’t good enough. 

comparing yourself like that would be like taking a piece of pizza & a cupcake & going “oh no, that cupcake is so sweet & my pizza isn’t sweet at all.” or “gosh, the garlic crust on that pizza is delicious and my cupcake doesn’t have ANY garlic.”  obviously your pizza isn’t sweet.  obviously your cupcake doesn’t have garlic.  a food can’t have every single delicious flavor at once.  the cupcake is good like a cupcake.  the pizza is good like a pizza.  so you don’t have to be good like them.  you can be good like you.

[bokutosmochi]

DEAR FANFICTION WRITERS

Thanks for existing

[bokutosmochi]

People worrying if their fic is too self indulgent like....... that is the point of fanfiction. You are supposed to indulge . Every fic is self indulgent

[bokutosmochi]

“how did you get into writing” girl nobody gets into writing. writing shows up one day at your door and gets into you

[bokutosmochi]

"Self insert characters are cringe"

Bro I'm trying to survive capitalism with maladaptive daydreaming. Leave me alone.