#AKAASHI X READER

[nanasrkives]

Navigation : midnight records! the starlight EP! haikyuu EP!

── .✦ "3 AM SHENANIGANS" — Suna Rintaro, Akaashi Keiji, Kuroo Tetsuro, Sakusa Kiyoomi, Bokuto Kotarou, Iwaizumi Hajime, Miya Atsumu, Miya Osamu, Kozume Kenma, Oikawa Toru

in which you catch your boyfriend talking in his sleep Sleep-talking boyfriends >>> therapy. content : fluff. multicharacter. post timeskip.2000 words

SUNA RINTAROU

It’s late, and the room is quiet, except for the occasional shuffle from Suna, who’s already half asleep beside you. You’re about to drift off when you hear him mumble, his voice low and irritated.

“Are you serious right now?” Suna grumbles, not fully awake. “Atsumu, you can’t be this extra all the time.”

You freeze. Wait, is he... talking about Atsumu?

You glance at Rin, then casually grab your phone. With a grin, you hit record, knowing this is going to be top-tier content. “You look like a damn highlighter, Atsumu,” Rin mutters, sounding genuinely disgusted. “Who told you neon green was a vibe? Was your mirror broken that day?”

You bite your lip to hold back a laugh. This is already better than anything you could’ve expected.

“And that ‘sexy smirk’ you keep trying to pull off?” Suna continues, totally unaware of his roasting abilities. “You look like a kid who just learned how to wink and is way too proud of it. Cut it out, bro.”

You snicker, barely able to keep your cool. I’m definitely sending this to Atsumu in the morning.

“Honestly, just stick to your usual ‘I’m better than you’ routine,” he grumbles. “At least that’s believable. But seriously? You think anyone’s buying this ‘heartthrob’ act? You look like a failed shampoo commercial from 2009.”

You choke on your laugh, clutching your stomach as you snort. Suna, meanwhile, is still in his own little world.

“And for the love of God,” he adds, “stop flexing like you’re auditioning for a bodybuilding competition, because nobody’s impressed. We see your ego in every room, and honestly, it’s exhausting.”

You just can’t stop giggling, holding your phone up to get every word. This is absolute gold.

“Seriously, Atsumu,” he mutters, voice slurring as he shifts slightly. “I’m just trying to sleep, and you’re out here acting like you’re the main character in a K-drama. Take that energy to the next level, bro.”

You whisper to yourself with a grin, “Suna's literally sleep-roasting him like he’s on a talk show.”

Suna rolls over, still completely unconscious, and you stop the recording, already looking forward to showing this to Atsumu. You lean back and snicker under your breath, "This is so going viral in the group chat.”

AKAASHI KEIJI

It’s late, and you got up because you were thirsty. You’re just about to go back to sleep when you hear a mumble from Akaashi next to you.

“Did I leave the oven on...?” he mutters groggily, his voice low and concerned.

You blink, confused. Wait, what?

You glance over at him, only to find him still fast asleep, looking completely unaware of his own panic. “Keiji...?” you whisper, half-jokingly. He mumbles again, his tone slightly more urgent this time. “The oven... I think I left it on. Did I...?”

You try not to laugh, but you can’t help it. Seriously? In his sleep, he's worried about the oven? “Hey Keiji...” you try to get his attention, but he continues as if he’s in the middle of a full-blown crisis.

“I swear, if I burned the house down...” he mutters, shifting slightly in the bed. “I was just trying to make toast...”

You’re now fully awake, trying to hold back laughter as you watch him talk about something as mundane as burnt toast while still completely unconscious.

“I know I should’ve checked the timer...” he continues, his voice tinged with regret. “Why do I always forget the basics?”

By now, you’re trying your best not to laugh out loud. This is too funny, and you decide to take full advantage of it. You tap him on the shoulder gently, but he doesn’t react. He’s still spiraling in his sleep. “Babe, it’s fine. The oven's off,” you say in a teasing tone, hoping it’ll snap him out of it.

“But what if I didn’t turn it off...?” he mutters again, his concern reaching new heights. “What if... what if the fire department has to come? I’ll never hear the end of it.”

You sigh, finally giving up on holding it in and letting out a chuckle. Akaashi, always the over-thinker—even in his sleep. With a smirk, you nudge him once more, and he finally lets out a small sigh of relief, still half asleep. “I’ll deal with it in the morning...”

You shake your head, still smiling. Next time, maybe check the oven before going to bed.

KUROO TETSUROU

The night is calm, the kind of stillness that’s perfect for deep sleep—or so you thought. You’re peacefully dreaming when you suddenly feel a hand on your arm. Kuroo shift beside you, his body going rigid all of a sudden.

“No, no, no... why is she—” he mumbles in his sleep, his voice growing more frantic by the second.

You blink, slowly waking up as his random murmurs continue. "Tetsu?" you ask groggily, unsure whether to just ignore it or poke him awake.

"She’s... she's drooling—WHAT THE FUCK, WHY IS SHE DROOLING?"

You furrow your brows, still half-asleep and confused. "What? Drooling? What are you talking about?"

Kuroo starts thrashing around a bit, looking like he's trying to dodge something invisible. "No, no, NO—this is bad. This is so bad. It’s... it’s—LILY ROSE DEPP! GET AWAY! GET AWAY FROM ME, YOU'RE GONNA GET ME WITH THE DROOL!"

Pause. Why the fuck is he dreaming about Lily Rose—

It hits you like a lightning bolt. He's dreaming about the movie you saw today.

You can’t help but snicker at the absurdity of the situation, but Kuroo is clearly in full-blown panic mode, hands swatting at the air like he’s trying to fend off some kind of horror movie monster.

"Tetsu," you whisper, trying not to laugh too loudly. "Chill out, it’s just a movie. Lily-Rose Depp is not going to drool on you."

"But she’s... she’s just standing there tweaking out! WHY IS SHE DROOLING LIKE THAT?! SHE'S GONNA MURDER ME!"

You can’t hold it in anymore. "You are literally freaking out over fake drool. It’s not even real!"

He freezes mid-squirm, looking like he’s just realized he’s been fighting invisible drool this whole time. "Wait... I’m... I’m dreaming?"

"Yes, babe, you’re dreaming," you say, trying to get him to relax. "It was just a weird movie scene, chill. No one’s gonna drool on you in your sleep."

He mutters something under his breath, clearly still processing, but then—BOOM. He jolts awake, blinking in confusion and looking around wildly. "Did I... did I just fight off a drooling woman?"

You can’t help but laugh, running your fingers through his hair. "No, baby, you’re good. There’s no one here. Just weird movie dreams."

Kuroo lets out a deep sigh of relief, but not without one last dramatic comment: "But seriously... that scene? Unsettling. Why did she even do that?" He shudders dramatically as if he’s still trying to shake off the absurdity of it.

You laugh, rolling your eyes. "It was just a weird artistic choice, Tetsu. Just go back to sleep, dream about something less gross."

Kuroo pulls you closer, still looking a little frazzled, but at least he’s relaxed enough to go back to sleep. "If I dream about drool again, though, I’m going full superhero on it," he mutters.

“I’ll hold you to that,” you say, stifling a giggle. "Goodnight, hero."

SAKUSA KIYOOMI

The night is quiet, and you’re just about to drift off when you feel something unexpected: a weight on your waist. You blink, confused, only to find that Sakusa—who's usually the least touchy person you know—is clinging to you like a koala in his sleep.

"Mmm… no… no, not again..."

You blink a few times, still half-asleep. "Omi?"

He doesn't respond, but you hear him muttering something under his breath.

"Stay back, Atsumu..."

You sit up a bit, eyes wide in confusion. "Atsumu?"

His grip on you tightens, and you feel his body tense against yours as if he’s trying to protect himself from an invisible force. "No… no, you’re too sweaty! I can’t breathe… germs… germs everywhere!"

You rub your eyes, not sure if you’re dreaming or if Sakusa’s really having this conversation in his sleep. "Wait, what?"

"Germs…,” he mumbles again, still clutching you like you’re his lifeline, as though Atsumu—who’s clearly not here—is about to attack him with sweat.

You can’t help it. You snort, more amused than anything else. This is the guy who gives you a 10-minute lecture about disinfecting your phone, and now he’s sleeping like a cat glued to your side.

"Omi," you murmur, trying to suppress a laugh. "You’re literally dreaming. There’s no sweaty Atsumu here. Calm down."

But he’s not listening. His voice gets more frantic, and his arms tighten even more around you. "I can't… I can’t touch him, Y/N... it’s… it’s everywhere. The germs, the sweat, it's all over..."

You blink, stunned at how clingy he’s gotten. Normally, this guy wouldn’t touch you unless you had a very good reason. And now? He’s practically attached to you like a backpack. "You’re really going all in with this, huh?" you tease softly. "Do you need me to disinfect myself before I sleep with you too?"

"Need bleach...,” he mumbles, still not awake. "We need bleach. Stat."

You burst into quiet laughter, shaking your head. "You’re fine babe. There’s no germs here. I promise. It’s just you and me."

His response? He pulls you closer, his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck like he’s shielding himself from a storm. You almost fall out of bed from how tightly he's holding you, and the absurdity of it all finally hits you.

"Omi," you chuckle softly, "I can’t believe you’re this clingy when you're asleep." You can practically hear his mind working as he sighs in his sleep. "Thank you... you're so clean..."

You're starting to enjoy the chaos now, though you’re still trying not to suffocate under his sleep-induced clinging. "Well, if I'm so clean, maybe you should calm down before you suffocate me," you tease, lightly pushing him off.

He doesn’t budge, still clinging to you like a human koala.

"I promise, no one’s getting sweaty near you," you murmur, shaking your head in amused disbelief.

Sakusa finally relaxes a little, still holding onto you, though not as desperately. It’s almost sweet… if you ignore the fact that he's sleep-clinging to you like a lifeline and muttering about germs.

"You're so soft," he mutters sleepily, finally drifting back into peaceful slumber, his hand still gently gripping your waist.

You blink down at him in confusion.

You can’t help but snicker. Looks like, for once, you’re the one who has to play the role of the calm, reassuring one. Not that you mind—just as long as he doesn’t try to disinfect you in the middle of the night.

BOKUTO KOTAROU

It was late—too late—when you felt something shift next to you. At first, you ignored it, already half-asleep, curled under the blankets. Then, suddenly—

"HEY HEY HEY!!"

Your body jerked awake at the sheer volume of his voice. "What the—?!"

Your sleep-addled brain barely had time to process before Bokuto fist-pumped the air—WHILE STILL ASLEEP.

"BEST SPIKER ALIVE, BABY!!" he cheered.

You blinked in the dark, completely disoriented. "Are you serious right now?" He didn’t answer. Because he was still asleep.

You groaned, rubbing your face, trying to slow your heartbeat down after that sudden wake-up call. "Bokuto, shut up," you muttered, voice raspy with sleep. But he wasn’t done.

"THAT WAS PERFECT!! DID YOU SEE THAT, Y/N?!"

"Oh my god," you whispered, realizing what was happening.

He was sleep-talking. Again.

"Ko, babe," you sighed, poking his forehead, hoping to shut him up before he woke up the whole building. "You’re dreaming. Go back to sleep." But instead of calming down, he suddenly turned towards you, grabbed your wrist, and squeezed it like a coach hyping up a player. "Y/N, YOU SET ME UP SO GOOD, I COULD KISS YOU!!"

You froze.

Your sleep-deprived brain took a moment to process the words before your lips parted. "…Bokuto Kotarou, I don’t even play volleyball."

"DON’T EVEN NEED TO! YOU’RE JUST THAT GOOD!!"

You sighed deeply, trying not to laugh. Sleep-talking Bokuto was something else. "Okay, okay, I’m amazing, got it. Now, can you go back to sleep?" Bokuto let out a content sigh, rolling back onto his side. "Mm… MVP… my Y/N…"

And just like that, he was out cold again.

Meanwhile, you stared at the ceiling, still awake, because somehow you just got dragged into an imaginary volleyball match at 3 AM.

IWAIZUMI HAJIME

The night was supposed to be peaceful. A rare moment of rest. No stress, no overthinking—just warmth, a comfortable bed, and the sound of Iwaizumi’s steady breathing beside you.

And then—

"Damn… look at those biceps…"

Your eyes snapped open.

For a second, you just lay there, blinking at the ceiling. Maybe you imagined it. Maybe you were dreaming.

Then, another sigh. "Shit… those arms… they’re unreal…"

Slowly—very slowly—you turned your head.

Iwaizumi was out cold, brows slightly furrowed, face relaxed in sleep. Yet his lips still moved, muttering nonsense into the darkness.

You stared at him. "Excuse me?"

He inhaled deeply, like he was taking in the sight of something majestic. "Damn, Ushiwaka…"

You nearly choked.

"USHIJIMA?!"

Nothing. No reaction. Just more soft, reverent mumbling. "Man… wonder what his arm day looks like…" A dreamy sigh. "Bet he curls, like… baby cows or somethin’…"

Your mouth fell open. For a solid ten seconds, you just laid there, processing. Then, slowly, a grin crept onto your face.

Leaning in, you whispered, "Hajime, do we need to have a conversation?"

A twitch. Then a small, sleepy grunt. "Mm… nah… ‘M gonna get bigger… even bigger…" His fingers twitched against the blanket, like he was mentally curling dumbbells.

You bit back laughter. "Bigger than Ushiwaka?" His brows furrowed, serious even in his sleep. "Tch… obviously…” A pause. "…probably…" That did it. You had to shove your face into the pillow to keep from bursting out laughing.

And just when you thought it couldn’t get any better—

"Y/N… ya think I’d look cool in a whey protein commercial…?"

You lost it. Grabbing your pillow, you smacked him upside the head.

MIYA ATSUMU

The night was peaceful, quiet, and exactly what you needed after a long day.

Then—

"THAT LYIN’ SNAKE—"

You shot upright, heart slamming against your ribs as you whipped toward the source of the outburst.

Atsumu. Still completely asleep.

His brows were furrowed, his mouth twisted in pure betrayal, and his fingers twitched against the blanket like he was plotting a murder. You exhaled sharply, flopping back onto the pillow. "God, Atsumu. Go back to sleep."

But he wasn’t done.

"I KNEW IT," he muttered, voice thick with righteous fury. "OSAMU’S BEEN WORKIN’ WITH THEM ALL ALONG…" Your brows furrowed as you turned to face him, half-exasperated, half-amused. "With who?" Atsumu’s breathing hitched. Then, in a voice so low it was almost conspiratorial, he whispered—

"The pigeons."

You blinked.

"What."

"They ain’t real, Y/N…" he continued, jaw clenching. "Government spies. Watchin’ us. Waitin’."

Your face went slack. "You’re joking."

"First it was the onigiri… now it’s full-blown espionage…" Atsumu grumbled, gripping the sheets tighter. "I gotta stop him… I gotta—"

Then, abruptly, his whole body relaxed. His face softened. His lips curled into a stupidly fond smile. "Mm… Y/N, ya smell good…" Your soul left your body.

"WHAT?!"

"Like… bread…" he sighed, completely content. "I love bread… ‘M gonna marry bread…" You stared at him.

Then, without thinking, you smacked him with your pillow.

"WAKE UP, YOU MENACE."

Atsumu just rolled over onto his stomach, mumbling something incoherent. But then, just as you were about to settle back down… "Not if Osamu gets to it first… damn bastard takes everythin’ from me…" You buried your face in your hands.

It was too late at night for this.

MIYA OSAMU

It was past midnight, and the only sound in the apartment was the occasional hum of the fridge. You were comfortably asleep—until you heard mumbling beside you.

At first, you thought you imagined it. But then— "No, that’s mine, ya greedy pig…"

Your eyebrows furrowed as you turned your head toward Osamu, who was lying on his back, looking completely relaxed. His lips parted slightly as he mumbled, his voice low and grumbly from sleep.

"Didn’t even leave me a single bite… selfish ass…"

Oh. He was sleep-talking. You had to physically restrain yourself from laughing.

Carefully, you shifted closer, resting your head on his shoulder. "What’d he take this time?" you whispered, playing along. Osamu sighed like a man who had suffered greatly. "The last onigiri…"

You bit back a grin.

"That bastard," you whispered dramatically. "Didn’t even ask?" Osamu's brows furrowed, his head tilting slightly. "Didn’t even share…"

You lost it. You absolutely lost it.

You pressed your face into his shoulder, shaking with silent laughter. This was too good. Then—"That was my favorite one, too…" Osamu sounded genuinely heartbroken.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes from holding in your laughter. "'Samu, baby, you own a whole restaurant."

There was a beat of silence.

Then, with the most serious expression—still completely asleep—he muttered: "DON’T MEAN I WANNA SHARE, Y/N." You immediately rolled onto your back, gripping your stomach, wheezing.

That was it. You were bringing this up tomorrow.

And if Osamu thought for one second that you wouldn’t record it next time? He had another thing coming.

KOZUME KENMA

Kenma was a silent sleeper. Most nights, you barely even noticed he was there—except for the occasional shift when he curled closer, or the faint glow of his phone screen if he stayed up too late gaming.

Tonight, however, was different.

Because at exactly 3:12 AM, he mumbled—

"No… no… lag… not now…"

You blinked awake. For a second, you weren’t sure if you imagined it. But then—"Tch… stupid server…" Kenma shifted slightly, brows furrowing in his sleep. "I swear if I d—if I d—if I d—" He twitched.

You squinted. "Kenma?"

"—if I d—if I d—if I d—"

You sat up. "Are you… lagging?" Kenma twitched again. His lips parted slightly, his voice glitching. "N—not n—now—lag—s-stu—pid—"

It took everything in you not to burst out laughing. "Kenma, baby, you’re buffering."

"Ngh… Y/N…" His fingers twitched, his face contorted in distress. "They’re—th-th-they’re stream sniping me…" You bit your lip. "Who?"

"Sweaty… 12-year-olds…" He exhaled sharply. "Little monsters…"

At that, you lost it. You flopped back onto the pillow, shaking with silent laughter.

"Kenma," you gasped. "You’re getting wrecked by children in your dreams?" "They—they won’t stop emoting on my body…" He turned his face into the pillow, like he was actually suffering. "Disgusting…"

Tears pricked at your eyes from holding back laughter.

Then, suddenly, Kenma’s breathing evened out again. His fingers stopped twitching.

Silence.

Until—"…Kuroo, stop taking my loot…"

You rolled over and smacked him with a pillow.

OIKAWA TOORU

The bedroom was quiet, you and Oikawa in a peaceful slumber, until, you’re woken up in the middle of the night by Oikawa’s voice, soft but unmistakably confident.

“...Y/N, I’m telling you, I can do a backflip. I’ve practiced, I swear.”

You blink, groggily trying to process what he’s saying. "A backflip? Sweetheart, where would you even try that?"

He doesn’t answer, but you can hear him shift in his sleep. Then, his voice comes again, louder this time, as if he’s trying to convince the whole room. “I’m serious! Just wait ‘til I show you. I can totally do it. You’ll see.”

You squint at him, slightly confused. “A backflip? Are you actually dreaming about impressing me with acrobatics?”

He sighs in his sleep, as if this whole conversation is just basic stuff to him. “I’m not just impressing you, Y/N. I’m proving I can do anything. You’ll see...”

You can’t help but laugh quietly, shaking your head. "Okay, Oikawa. When you land that backflip, let me know."

His voice is muffled as he mutters, “Just wait... I’ll do it in front of the whole team... they’ll be amazed…”

You roll your eyes, utterly entertained. "Sure, sure. I’m sure they’ll be floored, Oikawa."

He mumbles something unintelligible, then goes silent again, clearly satisfied with his dream logic. You shake your head, already half asleep again. "Whatever you say, superstar."

2025 © NANASRKIVES. / do not copy, repost, edit, plagiarize, or translate any of my works on any platforms, including ai.

Taglist (OPEN). / @cherrysurf @arwawawa2 @itsmeaudrieee

[lale-txt]

DEVOURER ; drabble collection

a pair of setter hands for you only. ➥ Oikawa, Atsumu, Kageyama, Kenma, Akaashi & Ukai

contains: smut drabbles (each around 200 words), f!reader (no pronouns used, reader wears a dress & lingerie in some), established relationships, fingering, overstim, oral (reader receiving), hair pulling, kind of public play for Ukai & Akaashi (no one is getting caught), also spit kink for Akaashi if you squint, a lot of focus on their hands doing their magic ig

word count: 1.3k

𝐊𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐘𝐀𝐌𝐀 feels his cock twitch from every moan he draws out of you. The sheets are a mess–hell, you are a mess. He can never get enough of seeing you like this, your breasts spilling out of our flimsy balconette bralette, black lace and love bites adorning your skin. He’s kneeling between your parted legs on the bed, watching them tremble with each thrust of his fingers. His free hand keeps them peeled open for him, an almost bruising grip on your thighs as he watches his digits sink into your heat, swallowing him so greedily. You twitch relentlessly around him, frustrated mewls falling from your lips each time he thrusts into you, hitting your sweet spot. Kageyama knows you’re aching for his cock, but you see, he loves seeing you fall apart for him before he gets to have his fill. It’s addicting, the flutter of your eyes and your hands twisting in the sheets when he adds a fourth finger, his thumb circling around your clit. You’re gushing all over him now, and he’s pretty sure you don’t even register his mumbled commands anymore, telling you to cum one more time for him, that he’s gonna fuck you so good after this one, just please, please, give him one more; as if he doesn’t own you entirely already.

𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐔 is love drunk. It’s hard not to be when you’re twisting your fingers in his hair, tugging him closer to the aching heat between your thighs. He dreamt about this long before it happened–your legs draped over his shoulders, the inside of them marked up with small hickeys and bruises from where he bit down on you. You’re whimpering and arching for him, his slender fingers holding you down by the hips, leaving crescent-shaped marks on the soft skin there. Not yet, he thinks. He can’t devour you fully just yet. Not until you come undone from his tongue alone. He needs to hear his name fall off your lips over and over again, like a spell only you know. You’ve bewitched him, body and soul, with the way he’s rutting against the mattress, his leaking cock straining against his pants, desperately searching for some friction. He knows you’d give him everything and more, but this–this is about you, your pleasure. One especially harsh tug at his hair makes him whimper against your core, his tongue lapping out to catch your essence. The taste of you is making him feel lightheaded, unraveling the knot within him, his cum uselessly spilling all over himself and the fabric of his pants. You’ll be the death of him one day, but for tonight he’ll be entirely yours.

𝐎𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐖𝐀 loves having you like this, straddling his lap and all dolled up for him, finally getting to see the expensive lingerie you bought with his credit card. You look magnificent, angelic, out of this world, the soft glow of the nightstand lamp giving you a full body halo. His hands run over your body, from your thighs up your sides, tracing the shape of you until they come to rest splayed out across your ribcage. If Oikawa was a less patient man, he’d sink you down on his hard cock in a heartbeat, watching your mouth fall agape and your pussy dripping all over his high-quality suit pants–but unfortunately for you, he loves to play with his prey before devouring it. A pleased hum escapes his throat when he hooks one finger under your panties and pulls them aside. You made all this effort to wrap yourself up for him like this, it would be a shame to take it all off, wouldn’t it? He kisses up the valley of your chest while his knuckles ghost over your cunt, sweet praise mumbled against your skin. Hearing your breath hitch when he drags one finger between your folds–painfully slow and teasing, edging on frustration–makes him smirk. He’ll have you panting and whimpering from being full of him in no time. 

𝐔𝐊𝐀𝐈 thinks this is a bad idea, but when has he ever been able to resist you? He should’ve known he was doomed from the start when you showed up in your little sundress at the class reunion, giving him a glance from across the room that made his head spin. You used to steal shy kisses from him behind the gym before practice started, almost a decade ago, now you’re pushed against the same walls with your back arched, letting him eat you out like he’s starved. He’s kneeling between your spread legs, holding your bunched up dress with one hand, the fingers of his other plunging into your wet cunt, parting your folds for him while his tongue does its part around your clit. You taste even sweeter than he remembers and it’s making him feel lightheaded, almost drunk on your juices. The panties, previously pooling around your ankles, are now pocketed in his jacket. A guttural moan rumbles in his chest when you tangle your fingers in his dyed hair, riding out your climax on his tongue, not even bothering to stay quiet. Ukai’s cock twitches uselessly in his pants, wondering if you’ll return the favor for old time’s sake, but for now he won’t be satisfied till your legs give in on him. 

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐀 can tell that you aren’t asleep yet when he finishes streaming for the night. Your 3DS is tossed carelessly aside on his side of the bed, the only source of light illuminating the bedroom. He doesn’t need light to see you though, he has the shape of you long memorized with his fingertips alone. You don’t even bother to stop touching yourself when he slips under the covers with you, only a small mewl of protest when he catches your wrist and gently draws your hand away from your aching core, quickly replaced by his nimble fingers. You’re dripping, your head falling against his shoulder, the sweetest sounds escaping your lips. Kenma loves these late night moments with you; when you melt under him like molasses, sinking into him as he pushes you over the edge relentlessly, knowing exactly how to touch you to make you fall apart for him. Only when you hiccup, your fingers twisting into his shirt, he’ll slowly draw his fingers out of you again, cupping your throbbing cunt as you ride out your high. With a small pat he’ll tell you to lift your hips so he can pull your panties back up for you into place, a good night kiss pressed to your temple and your neck before you drift into sleep in his arms.

𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈 can’t take his eyes off you. You look so beautiful like this. His slender fingers push between your lips, your tongue darting out to lap up what he’s offering you–a good taste of yourself, your cunt throbbing and empty from the absence of his fingers. It’s a good thing that you’re the last ones left at the office because the sight of you spread out across his desk is for his eyes only, with your skirt bunched around your waist, your new tights now ripped around the crotch area. It’s okay. He’ll buy you new ones, he always does. Anything–he’d give you anything, Akaashi thinks the moment before he lines himself up against your entrance, sinking inside you while you still drool around his fingers. You’re sucking on them so eagerly, pushing them down deep till you’re gagging, the sound of it making his hips stutter. Akaashi would love to stay buried inside you like this forever, your holes stuffed with him, making an utter mess out of you, but he crumbles so easily when he gets to have you like this. He cups your jaw so tenderly when he leans over you, letting a drop of spit fall onto your tongue, his gaze nothing but lovesick as he watches you swallow anything he offers you.

a/n: LISTEN i know Ukai is a coach but he used to be a setter so he deserves to be here. i needed an excuse to write him. also love Akaashi getting freaky, you can't tell me this calm man doesn't fuck

[rensukepie]

‘less he going through my pictures! ┈─ ཻུ۪۪♡ ͎. k. a

contains + warnings : sending him nudes, reader is very very needy :(, pet names (sweet girl, baby, etc.), he drives home just to fuck you :3, praise ^_^, fingering

maybe sending akaashi nudes of you while he’s out with his friends wasn’t such a good idea…

a/n : im back! i went into writers block… but anyways! its my first time writing an actual hq character (100 follower special doesn’t count in this case)

MDNI!!

—2 new messages from “sweet girl ♡”

—2 attachments from “sweet girl ♡”

i miss you so much baby :((

do you like it keiji? picked it out just for you :3

as your notification buzzes in his pocket, he immediately grabs his phone, opening your attachment and message.

“oh my fucking god.” are the first four words he thinks to himself, his cock getting rock hard immediately.

you’re in a pretty lingerie set in his favorite color, a bow on the middle of the bra along with another bow on the top of the matching underwear.

he excuses himself to go to the nearest bathroom, his face red from thinking about the picture you sent him.

and if that didn’t add the cherry on top of your picture and message you sent him..

—1 audio message from “sweet girl ♡”

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|• 0:30▶︎

“k—keiji! mmf— ahh-! m’so wet for you… can you hear it..? o—ohh…miss you sooo much, baby…”

holy shit.

—2 new messages from “keiji <3”

“can you see how fucking hard you made me?”

“coming home rn baby <3”

—1 attachment from “keiji <3”

a picture of his rock hard cock and the fact that he’s coming home right now just for you? gosh, the thought of that makes you even wetter. you really, really are needy for your keiji.

┈─ ཻུ۪۪♡ ͎.

“missed you soo much…” you whine to him before he pulls you into a kiss on the bed, the same exact bed you took that picture in.

“yeah? missed you too, baby…” he whispers, going down to kiss your neck. “look so pretty in those pictures you sent me.”

“mm, yeah? i should take more f’you then..” you giggle before whining again, feeling a hickey form on your neck along with his middle and ring finger grazing over your cunt.

“k—keiji… mmf…o-ohh…!” you whimper, a damp spot forming in the middle of your underwear, your hands grabbing at his arms.

“you’re this wet already? ive barely done anything to you… what a needy girl you are, hm?” he says in a teasing manner, but almost condescending tone as well, taking your panties off fully, cool air hitting you.

you feel his fingers rub back and fourth on your cunt again before he plunges them in, a loud whine escaping your lips, kissing you everywhere from your mouth to your tits to add onto the pleasure some more.

“m—mmfhh… o-ohhhh….m’so close… hah—…t-to much keiji…” you whimper loudly, your orgasm washing over your body, breathing heavily as you catch your breath.

“maybe if you send more pictures like that, he’ll fuck you just like how he did earlier.” you think to yourself for the rest of the day.

[hayoomii]

akaashi keiji the man you are 🙈

AFFECTIONATE

akaashi keiji x gn!reader

includes: clingy keij

notes: old fic reupload

There are days when Keiji has these… moods. 

It starts out unnoticeable at first, his actions so small and natural they’re simply normal—a kiss to the temple as he passes you in the hallway, brushing his fingers over your arm when he sits down beside you, placing a kiss to your lips as he hands you the lunch he’s made. 

You’re no stranger to your husband’s feathery touches throughout the day, delicate affections rewarded unto you for no reason other than that he loves you. 

But as the day goes on, that’s when you finally begin to notice the change. He curls himself around you as he watches the movie you’ve put on for the afternoon, he bombards you while washing dishes to steal a few drawn out kisses before disappearing, he leans over the back of the couch to bury his face in your neck for a few moments then goes back down the hall to his office. 

The more time that passes, the more you find your husband coming back to you again and again—more touches, more affection, more love. 

You’re in the kitchen looking in the fridge for a pre-dinner snack when two familiar arms wind around your waist from behind, followed by a soft set of lips pressing to the base of your neck. 

“Hey,” you greet, placing your hands on top of Keiji’s arms, rubbing circles into his skin with your thumb. He hums in response, simply pressing another kiss to the side of your neck. Grinning, you lean back into him, dropping your head back onto his shoulder. “What’s gotten into you today?” 

There’s another kiss, this time longer, and then Keiji’s pressing his lips to your temple, not even for a kiss really, but just enough for contact. “I miss you,” he whispers, and a rush of warmth spreads through your bones. 

“I’ve been with you all day, silly. What do you mean you miss me?” Keiji pulls back so he can look down and meet your gaze, glasses slipping a little down his nose. Then his arms are tightening around you and he’s leaning to bury his face in your neck again, flushed cheeks pressing into your skin. 

“I just love you,” he breathes, his voice that same shy tone he uses when asking for cuddle time after breakfast and saying excuse me when he walks in on you changing, even after two years of dating and three of marriage. “So much.” 

Your cheeks hurt from how wide your lips stretch, twisting around in his arms and placing your hands on both sides of his face, making him look at you once again. 

“You’re so precious, you know that,” you tease, though there’s obvious sincerity laced within it. Even now, it seems Keiji is facing an inner battle about whether to look at your eyes or lips, subconsciously leaning in with each tick of the clock. 

You meet him halfway, initiating the first bout of affection from your end today. Your fingers slide from the sides of his face to the nape of his neck, sifting into the curls at the base, scratching ever so slightly. When you pull back, Keiji chases your lips, and you can’t help but laugh as you give him one more peck then untangle yourself from him. 

“I’m gonna go watch a movie in bed,” you tell him, slowly walking out of the kitchen. You stop once you’re in the doorway, turning to look back at your husband over your shoulder with a devilish little smirk. “Aren’t you gonna come cuddle?” 

The rest of the day is spent with Keiji and you tangled up in bed, limbs intertwined and breaths shared between lazy kisses. You’re halfway through your second movie when the sound of soft snores comes from where Keiji’s head is pressed to your sternum. 

You try to shift, just to see what’ll happen, and smile softly when it does nothing but make his arms wrap around you tighter. You slip his glasses off his nose, setting them on the bedside table, and bury your nose into his hair. 

“I love you,” you whisper to the sleeping man on top of you, who hums as if he’s awake enough to respond. Pressing a kiss to the crown of his head, you let your eyes slip shut too. “So much.” 

[haikyu-mp4]

Everything will be fine – Akaashi x reader wc 629 – f!reader, brother!Bokuto

Your older brother Bokuto was not disappointed – nor particularly surprised – when you and Akaashi ended up dating in your last year at high school. He was away for university by then and missed the two of you terribly, but at least your togetherness meant he could meet you both at the same time whenever he visited home! That’s double the time spent with both of you!

And when you and Akaashi graduated, you both got into universities in Tokyo, meaning Bokuto’s happiness only increased. Nothing could ever separate you now-

“Me and Keiji both got job offers here in Tokyo!”

For a second, he grinned widely at the great news, his hair pointed sharply to the sky. Then, slowly, he realised he had just accepted an invitation to play for the Black Jackals, who were stationed in Osaka. His hair melted into sadness, along with his whole demeanour.

You felt Akaashi tense beside you, his hand squeezing yours a little tighter while you pursed your lips, having handled this for much longer than your boyfriend.

“But I’ll be working in Osaka,” Bokuto reminded you, his sadness dripping from every syllable.

“It’s not even three hours with the Shinkansen, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi informed him. Naturally, he had made some calculations before giving this news.

Bokuto nodded and gave you a sorrowful smile. The rest of his expression was hardly working with him to convince you that he was okay, but he tried his best. “I just thought you two would both be freelancers and go wherever I go.”

You couldn’t help the small snort of laughter that slipped past your nose, making you lift a hand to try and conceal it. Akaashi smiled and stepped forward when he saw that Bokuto was about to tell you off. “Bokuto-san. I promise to take care of your sister.”

“I know that, Akaashi. But who’s going to take care of me? Who’s going to hold up the posters with my name at every game?”

Akaashi hesitated, looking a bit like a question mark when he answered. “Your other fans?”

Bokuto huffed and pouted. “They don’t count.”

“If I filmed that and posted it, you’d get cancelled so fast,” you mumbled from the side, already fed up with your brother’s nonsense (affectionately).

“You’re not taking my emotions seriously!” Bokuto accused you, which sounded exactly like it did when you were kids.

You stuck your tongue out at him. “Because everything will be fine!”

“It will?” Bokuto’s movements stuttered as he blinked at you owlishly, a nostalgic sense of positivity washing over him.

“Of course it will!” you repeated, voice a little lighter. A little more relaxed, like the words were filling the air and hugging all three of you. “We always work things out.”

Akaashi felt his shoulders lower as he admired you. You were everything he needed to fight his anxiety, and you proved time and time again that you were it for him.

It also seemed to have the same effect on Bokuto, who knew from all the years of sitting on the back of your bike while you gave your all trying to get him home after he scraped his knee, that you would do everything in your power to ensure it would, in fact, be okay.

“I already got us all rail passes for the whole year,” you said happily, shrugging. “Can you start being happy about our awesome jobs now?”

Bokuto used his strong arms to pull you and your boyfriend into a crushing hug, making you both groan despite the warmth in your hearts. “Oh my gosh, congratulations! What are your jobs?”

You nodded your head to gesture for Akaashi to start. “I’ll be an editor for Tenma Udai...”

“The mangaka?! Why didn’t you say that?!”

“…My bad, Bokuto-san.”

masterlist

requested by @nifflermini for my event, anything for you <3

[cafem3wcuryy]

౨ৎ ━━━ date?

━ characters: atsumu, osamu, suna, kuroo, kenma, akaashi & sakusa ━ sum: you forget to tell them you have a date, missing your weekly hangout with them. in other words, they like you, and they’re basically getting blown off for some other dude. ━ cw: none (unless u guys see smth)

m.list

notes:

a lil smau for now so u guys arent deprived (im working on an order rn im so sorry for the delay on that)

[softlights-citylights]

film director!akaashi

made this for a fanfic series : first on the call sheet

[megapteraurelia]

hiii just saw your post about needing distraction and if i can help you even a little bit then i’d be happy to!! so id like a drabble with akaashi, f!reader or gn!reader, fluff, at uni?? if that’s fine?? have a lovely day <33

zeugmas and feelings.

summary | akaashi keiji and you found each other while trying to survive deadlines. or: how to not get anything done because akaashi keiji is just so damn pretty. warnings | none! it's meet-cute and fluff :3; fem!reader word count | 4449. a/n | elie, i love you, you precious!!! thank you for this and i'm sorry that i didn't keep to the idea of a drabble. for the life of me, i could NOT pass up writing several moments of akaashi so there's 4.5k words full of them instead T_T i hope i made it justice, though :3 please let me know what you think! -` ♡ ´-

the library was silent on sunday; eerie yet comforting in a way. 

the sun had long since set, the last of the rays that came through the windows bathing everything in a light that felt more nostalgic than it actually was before it dipped everything outside in a dark cloak. among the typing sounds on different kinds of laptops, their engines more than ready to take off after being used for so long, there was only the ticking of the clock, sometimes a soft clearing of throats or the gentle clink of a thermo cup being set down.

looking up from the mock exam you were taking for your cultural studies class, flexing your cramped fingers and rolling your shoulders, your eyes found the only other person sharing your space that late. you didn’t mean to look over at him lest you made anybody feel awkward, but in an entire picture of stillness before you, the movement drew your eyes naturally.

his fingers were swift, flying over the keyboard, gaze trained at his screen, trusting his hands to instinctively and automatically follow the letters. you couldn’t see his eyes properly, though, the glare of the laptop reflecting off his glasses. though you could see the little furrow of concentration in his brows, his teeth worrying his lower lip as he halted for a second, thinking. then nodding to himself, they resumed their display of a gear having turned in his brain. 

your eyes wandered away from him to your own screen, the words staring at you, and you wondered once again whether you should have chosen a different topic to cover in this assignment. would american history work better? did you have enough characteristics to explain the relevance in the corresponding text? or did you perhaps want to stay focusing on orientalism? 

after all, american history was your current topic discussed in class, its myths and ideologies, transformation of gender roles, the age of realism and science. it would be easier to just focus on any of those: the harlem renaissance, counterculture and postmodernism, the gilded age— 

you rubbed your eyes, and a sigh escaped your mouth, strong and carrying a lot of exhaustion; your lungs pushed the air out forcefully. you were too far in to scrap everything and start anew with a whole nother topic, so there was only one plausible and logical conclusion to draw:

get more coffee and force your brain cells to work.

standing up from your spot, senses tuned into the stillness of the library, you noticed something. or lack thereof. no typing noise anymore that had accompanied you for hours on end; the seat in front of the man’s laptop empty, his notebooks still open on the table, though no cup on the empty coaster. 

as you walked by with your empty mug and passed the little area that his pens and his dispersed papers claimed as his for the time being, you let your eyes flit over his screen. walls of paragraphs comparing two different works of literature on one half of his desktop, another document open with several similarities and differences listed on the other half. 

“japanese lit, huh?” you mumbled to yourself, tired eyes straying away from his possessions and your feet automatically carried you to the coffee machine at the entrance of the library that the students of various classes had invested in to aid them during their emotional breakdowns…uh, quest to finish their essays and assignments in time. 

zoning out, gripping your mug in one hand, you barely recognised the familiar movement of a person occupying the space in front of you out of the periphery of your eyes as you neared the coffee machine, so you only came back to reality when your nose was suddenly squished against a warm barrier that smelled like cappuccino and old books. 

“easy,” a deeper voice than yours called out close to your head, one hand having already come up to steady you when you lost your balance. his hand was warm against your back, the heat seeping through the layers of your woolen turtleneck, and for a second you both occupied the same space, the only sound the ticking of the clock.

“oh, sorry,” your response was automatic, sheepish and you stepped back, “i probably saw you but my brain didn’t work quick enough to actually see you.”

your gaze found the missing person whose laptop you snooped through (did it count as snooping if you only quickly looked at the screen enough to see what he was working on? you didn’t even touch anything, promise), and this time you could see his eyes, unhindered by any light reflection. 

pretty, you thought off-handedly, really pretty eyes.

“no stress,” one shoulder heaved up, and when his fingers stopped supporting you once he saw you didn’t need his help anymore, your back felt weirdly cool. it was nice having felt the heat of his arm around your body in the absence of any human contact in the face of studying. 

he filled water into the reservoir of the coffee machine, a cup of beans already measured from before you walked into him. you cleared your throat and nodded in thanks; he bowed his head quickly, waving off your thank you, his hand nudging up his glasses perched on his nose when they threatened to slide down. 

they were a bit big, but the earnest look of the dark blue eyes accompanying them made them all the more alluring; like they caged a ton of unsaid thoughts behind them, like there was so much those eyes wanted to tell but they had to get through the barrier of the glasses first. 

a transparent mask to hide behind.

“sooo, how’s the coffee?” you asked to fill the silence when your eyes met again, looking away just as quickly, because you hadn’t expected that his sharp pupils found you the same way your eyes found his. stupid question, to be honest, when the coffee machine whirred in answer, and there was a slight smile playing on his lips.

“i don’t know yet,” he held up his opened thermos cup to show you the lack of liquid that he could not judge on yet, and your cheeks flared up at the obvious demonstration, mumbling quietly to yourself, thinking that the coffee machine was too loud for him to understand: “sorry, that was…an incredibly stupid question.”

“you’re okay,” his quiet and steady voice came back to meet your ears, held back amusement lingering in the folds of his tenor. he heard you just fine, “though probably just like bitter water.”

leaning back against the wall, he joined you in waiting, and then there was comfortable silence between you both. he was close enough to feel the air warm up, close that if you glanced up again, you could see his lashes brush his cheek as he closed his eyes for a quick reprieve, the curls of his hair, messy and falling over his ears, his lips sitting together calmly, sometimes twisting when he chewed on the inside of his cheek.

you looked away again, to the coffee machine that went from grinding the coffee beans to finally pouring the hot water through it and dripping into the pot. you thought you recognised him from somewhere, this boy with the gentle, kind eyes and the charming glasses. you couldn’t help but steal another glance at him, trying to gauge where from, whether you had met him on campus before.

“i can feel you staring.”

whirling your head away from his still closed eyes and the fingers messing with his hair, you felt embarrassment brewing within your chest alongside the coffee in front of you. stupid, stupid.

“sorry.”

“don’t be. i don’t mind,” he said, still the same reserved amusement hiding behind his words, and then he did open his eyes to turn to you, and you returned the favour of looking over him again. your gazes met for a split second, dead-on, before they parted again to look at other features, “you’re in professor yoshida’s class, right?”

“right! that’s where  i know you from,” recognition finally bloomed, and you tested out the name that was continuously popping up in your mind during the short wait, wondering whether it was him, “akaashi keiji, right? you looked familiar.”

akaashi opened his mouth to respond, but halted for a split second; his cheeks and ears using this one moment to turn into a soft pink. when he caught himself and talked, you had an inkling that he meant to say something completely different: “yeah, exactly. what are you working on?”

“cultural studies. incredibly boring.”

“japanese lit,” he nodded in sympathy, then moved to pour coffee into both of your cups. you wanted to thank him, take the cup yourself and move, but he beat you to it. reflexes sharp and swift movement, he maneuvered around you easily to carry both of your coffee mugs back to the table you both shared. 

“thank you,” you said at last, seated away from him at your own laptop with the steaming cup warming your hands, the same old words on the screen staring back at you, and he responded in likes; his voice comfortable and easy, deep and as warm as the drink in your hand, “of course.”

both of you continued working, though amongst the clicking of keyboard keys and the silent breathing were the little glances both of you threw at the other now that there was some common ground found. when you got stuck with how to phrase a certain sentence, chin supported on your hand, your eyes wandered to him out of their own volition and instinctually, and you watched him focus on his work. 

the way his teeth would not stay still, constantly picking on his lips, his fingers rubbing his chin when he thought; the light warming up his face and making it seem like his hair was draped over him like a dark curtain. 

then you’d attend to your work again, and it was akaashi’s turn to let his eyes and mind wander over to you to watch you get stuck with another paragraph, biting your nail while the other hand was tapping on the keys lightly without pressing too hard, eyes intently focused on the words. 

you had an intense look in your eyes, and everytime, there were little butterflies erupting behind his ribcage when he felt you dedicate it to him.

those moments in between, when both of your eyes passed the others, belonged to nobody but the empty library. moments, in which you allowed yourselves to bask in the heat of fading instances, of arcane glances, interrupted by little sighs here and there or random occurrences, in which you both just couldn’t help but talk to each other:

“i’m jealous of your concentration,” you groaned at some point, allowing your forehead to thump onto your arm to bury your face away from the screen and its cruel, glaring light, “you look like you’re about to solve all the problems in this world.”

akaashi had stilled in his work, startled, eyes glancing up over the rim of his glasses up to you, and his teeth finally let go of his poor, swollen lower lip; mouth curling into a small embarrassed smile, “not quite. but i may be able to help you with yours, if that’s a start.”

you laughed at yourself for the strange thump your heart produced, hand waving him off, “sweet of you, but i just need some of that laser focus you’ve got.”

“sending you some.”

pretending to catch the energy he threw your way, you perked up in your seat and flashed him a grin, “you’re a lifesaver.”

“oh fu— shit.”

he was already beside you with napkins, big hands dabbing up the spilled lukewarm coffee as you worked to put away your electronics and books lest they’d get ruined by the deep brown liquid. he was close, leaning over you, hands working fast and precise, feeling his chest bump against your shoulders ever so slightly. your body warmed up at the contact, and you had to try not to lose your mind over that.

“ugh, i swear this is not my usual.”

“i’ll believe you when i see you prove the opposite to me,” he said quietly, a certain openness in his voice, a silent offer to spend many more moments together like this. 

you looked up at him, a smile stealing itself on your lips, “i suppose if you’re asking to be humiliated and be proven wrong, then i won’t say no.”

the skin underneath akaashi’s glasses had warmed up, and as he went back to his seat, he had stuttered back, “that’s�� i didn’t— nobody said anything about humiliation! also, you’re the one who barely escaped electronic and academic death. gotta tone down the murderous intent a little.”

“never. every essay is my arch-nemesis, so they got what was coming for them.”

akaashi had shook his head, and laughed quietly to himself; the sound as honeyed as your favourite dessert. 

when he returned from his bathroom break later on, he brought you back a new cup of coffee, anyway, despite his fear of you murdering your hard effort of having added only three extra paragraphs to your text in all the time (you were a little busy staring at akaashi keiji’s pretty eyes; nobody was allowed to judge your slow pace).

you fell back with a big oohmpf and a yelp. 

dazed, you looked up at the ceiling, the low warm light of the library in the midst of the dark outside looking enticing enough to fall asleep right there. you stayed on the ground for a second, most of your fall cushioned by the chair, though your butt still throbbed with the impact. 

“hey,” a couple steps resonated before a messy head of curls peeked over you, one hand holding the glasses in place, while the other was reaching towards you to help you up, “you alright?”

“y-yeah,” you sat up, shaking your head a bit to clear it from the zoning out you were doing before gravity decided to take you down, “i suppose that’s why teachers always say not to rock your chair back and forth.”

suppressed laughter, mild concern, and a warm hand engulfing you, “what a delinquent. i bet the teachers loved you.”

“hey! what’s that supposed to mean? they loved me! incredibly so!”

“okay. i think i need help.”

“of course, what do you need?”

“do you understand what i’m trying to convey when i phrase it like that? ugh, i’m scared it’s too convoluted.”

“give me a second,” he finished up his sentence, then came over, “let me see.”

his chest pressed against the back of your (now upright) chair as he leaned over you to read your run-on sentence was distracting you. he wasn’t touching you per se, but the placement of his hands on the arms of the chair could cage you in, make you feel like he was embracing you from behind, so much taller than you. the warmth emitting from behind you made you want to fall asleep and let your head land in the crook of his neck.

he was breathing softly, the air caressing your hair, and when he reached out to point at your words, your eyes followed the red knuckles, his clean nails and the size of his hands. 

“you mean that the west created orientalism as a cultural and intellectual framework, right?” — a quick nod of yours — “alright, then i think if you cut this in two sentences, for one to showcase the interpretation of the east and then dive deeper into the colonisation in the next sentence — that would make it more understandable. say, am i making you nervous?”

blinking, “w—what? where did that come from?”

he leaned down slightly, face hovering next to yours, his voice slightly raw and close to your earshell, “don’t forget to breathe. also, you have a typo — row three, the fourteenth word.”

“evil,” your breathing was clipped from the insinuation that he may have had an effect on you, heart pumping blood through your body like crazy as if it was held at gunpoint, “i bet the teachers really disliked you.”

despite that, you brought him a cup of coffee when you returned from your bathroom break, too.

“you alright, akaashi?” you asked.

akaashi keiji looked up, his hand rubbing his neck, kneading the knots out of his tense shoulders. his eyes, until just short of when you called him, had been glazing over, a little bit of a vacant look entering the blue of his eyes, but when you called his name, he had snapped out of it, and his features relaxed slightly, away from his troublesome thoughts. his dark brows furrowed deeply above his eyes.

“yeah, just thinking about all the deadlines coming up. it’s…” he sighed, allowing his shoulders to sink, and he leaned back in the uncomfortable library chairs; another big sigh escaping him, “...a lot.”

“yeah,” you agreed and stood up, walking over to him. his surprised gaze followed you, and when you stood right next to him with his head tilted back, the wavy strands of hair following gravity, looking up at you with those eyes, you felt a tug in your chest that told you to kiss him. you didn’t. 

instead, you nodded to the window, “let’s take a walk and a breather,” and then, because you couldn’t help yourself, “a zeugma. get it, mr. japanese literature?”

his shoulders stayed relaxed, and he laughed again; a brilliant smile on his lips and you thought of how you wanted to kiss him even more. his eyes felt lighter, too, when he pushed back his chair and stood up, body entirely too close for what probably should have been appropriate for two students who had only properly met today for the first time. or was it already the next day?

but neither of you moved for a second, drinking in the presence of each other, before he grabbed his jacket off his backrest, “i think you can do better.”

“well, i think it was pretty good.”

akaashi shrugged, a teasing glint in his eyes, competing with the sparkle of the glasses when he turned and the light hit him just right, “and i think i have you beat there.”

you grumbled but caught up to him nonetheless.

it was cold outside. 

the kind that slithered through between the folds of your clothing to nestle deep in the crevices of your soul. the kind that had you shuddering and sending remnants of cannons into the air with every breath, the moisture immediately misting up. 

akaashi keiji was walking next to you, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets, though his exhales were shaky too, chest trembling with compressed and suppressed shivers. you were already as close to him for warmth as possible without being weird or too straight-forward, though you wish you could just cling to his arm — it was that icy.

“i feel like i can’t even think,” you mumbled, already feeling your lips starting to numb, the tip of your nose burning. 

“me neither, but maybe that’s a good thing,” he breathed out, the warm air blowing past your temple, and his cheeks were so pink, it was cute, “sometimes it’s all too stressful, and i wish i could turn off my brain.”

“does that happen a lot?” 

you referred to the way his face looked like there was a headache incoming, how his fingers froze and his shoulders locked in; the way he seemed to absolutely crumble under the prospect of the things he needed to do and that awaited him. 

akaashi had an embarrassed smile on his face, shoulders drawn up for some warmth, the fuzziness of his jacket’s hood surrounding his reddening cheeks, “sometimes. there’s a lot of expectations riding on passing my classes. not just passing them, but passing them well.”

“by whom?” you leaned forward; curious eyes trying to catch his, “expectations set by the profs or by yourself?”

he stared at you, and his lips were slightly open; with every exhale, condensation snaked up the air like smoke, dissolving in the cold atmosphere all around you, though the air between you was slightly warm. his eyes looked kind and vulnerable for a second, “what a callout. guess i can’t even pretend that it’s not me, huh? you caught me.”

“not yet, i didn’t,” you dared say, and he stopped walking, even though it was colder to stay still than to move. you stopped, too. a snowflake floated between you, landing on his pink nose, melting at the warmth. 

the entire evening long — ever since you had bumped into him making coffee and you both went from studying alone to studying together, little jokes and jibes passing between you, curiosity and interest swapping between you with every glance, solitary and shared, you felt there was maybe a chance for something more. not necessarily all the way if it didn’t work out, but more to explore, more of him and you to meet.

“what does that mean, miss cultural studies?”

you blinked up at him, “i don’t know, mr. japanese literature. you’re the one who reads between the lines of books and analyses everything.”

“i’m not that far into my course,” he told you, seriously, and for a second you almost believed him, but then his eyes crinkled as he hid his smile behind the fluff of his jacket, and you pulled out one of your hands from the pockets of your coat to lightly pull his ear, not enough to cause pain but enough to chide him.

“you liar,” you said with no malice, voice soft and as your hand trailed down to hide your fingers in warmth again, his hand, fast as ever, pulled out of his own jacket, grabbed yours and stuffed both your hands in his pocket instead. 

incredibly warm, fingers locked between each other, soft skin kissing yours, “let’s go, it’s too cold.”

sometime around 2 am in the morning, you decided that you were going to fall asleep right then and there. sadly, coffee barely had an effect on your body anymore after having put your body through caffeine abuse for so long. 

during the hours of studying together, one of you moved closer to the other, so both of your books and notes were strewn together, sharing a space. his thermos cup stood next to a bunch of other cups both of you had drunk out of, because you kept forgetting to take the mug you were using with you and were forced to bring new ones. 

scrutinising a well-read book in the dim light, you ask, “is this mine?”

“unless you want to take home a copy of the setting sun with you and dissect the theme of youth in crisis, then i’m sorry to disappoint you.”

“ugh, i can’t even read anything anymore,” a beat of sly silence, “or you know, maybe i do want to. then i’ll have an excuse to see you again.”

“or,” akaashi butted in and gently offered you his phone, his smile straightforward yet a shy edge sweetening it up, “you can give me your number and we’ll meet up for another study session when you’re available. how’s that sound?”

in lieu of an answer, you saved your contact in his phone; your fingers caressing his under pretense of giving it back to him, and his movement was delayed, allowing the contact between you two to linger for a moment more.

“i’ll walk you back.”

“it’s not that far, so you don’t have to. it’s cold, too.”

akaashi sent you a look that very much told you he did not care how cold it was, there was no way he would let you walk alone at night. and when he did, your hands were buried in his pocket again. 

the world was quiet and still, as if you were caught up in another plane of existence for the past hours. a limbo of sleepy nature, perpetually falling snowflakes, the constant of the warmth akaashi offered, the bumping of arms as you walked in silence, subtly pulling him either to the left or the right when you needed to change the path.

“when is your assignment due?” you asked, lips barely moving from the cold, so you had to hiss out the words, barely understandable.

“four days ‘til friday. yours?”

“monday.”

another shaky exhale, the tremble evident in your shoulders, and you opted to walk a bit faster, even though you didn’t want to part with him yet. but cold was cold, and you would like to keep your toes still alive and kicking. so, it was no wonder that you arrived at your dormitory relatively fast, though even then, both of you stood in front of the entrance, not ready to say goodbye yet, not ready to leave the world of the dead and wake up the next day to greet the same usual bullshit. 

“meet me tomorrow,” he said with blue lips and red cheeks.

“okay,” you responded, heart fluttering when he didn’t let go of your hand. instead he took a step back and you were forced to follow, because you didn’t let go of his hand, either.

one step, another, a third one, then the tentative meeting of cold mouths. his breath was warm, his tongue warmer, and gradually your lips returned to their soft, mellow state. kissing him felt gentle, it felt safe and it felt like you could sink into him, like awaiting and catching you was a giant cloud that kept you floating up.

he kissed like he was a romantic. like he lived and breathed words meant for you, with the dedication and attention to detail only a writer or an artist could have, every stroke, every painted image on paper. he kissed like he had known you for a long time and intended to know you for even longer.

when you both parted, your lashes were brushing the rim of his glasses and your nose caressing his cheek, lips only inches away so it was only natural to kiss him again. 

“see you,” he let go of your hand at last.

later, an unknown number texted you, and you thought yourself corny, but you couldn’t help the smile that overtook your features at the cheesy line akaashi keiji thought he had you beat with:

from: +81 3 1762-3468 i left my other book and also my heart with you

and then:

from: +81 3 1762-3468 i really do need the book though, bring it tomorrow please :( goodnight x

[makkir0ll]

between you and your husband, you were the one more…vocal about your love for him. leaving him sweet notes with doodles of the two of you in his lunch, ending all heartfelt messages with x’s, planting a big kiss on his cheek that he pretended to cringe at but in reality he looked forward to it everytime he left the house.

people would always come up to you, telling you that he doesn’t reciprocate his love with words and such and asking you how you dealt with it. truth be told it took a while for you to get used to but soon enough you began to see the signs.

it was the way that every time he got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom he would tuck your feet back into bed. the way he spent a solid twenty minutes cleaning your phone screen, and with furrowed brows as he placed your new screen protector on, making sure there were no bubbles. it was when you opened his wallet that you saw all the notes you wrote him saved in one pocket of his shitty leather wallet that was begging to be put to rest. it's the way when you come home after a long night out with your friends he takes his time undressing you, removing and placing your jewelry carefully on your bedside table and making sure to gently take off your makeup and of course do your skincare routine that he has memeorized. when he goes out and he spots a little something with your favorite character on it he buys it immediately, not bothering to look at the price tag because the way your eyes would light up when he brought home the little gift was worth more than a billion dollars to him.

it was when on your third month anniversary when the two of you were still dating, while the two of you sat down on the booth next to each other at a restaurant he held your hand and squeezed it three times. signifying the words, i love you. he knew he loved you from the start but was scared it was too soon to say it and this was his silent way of telling you so. and you picked up on it quickly when he started to do it more often.

and on your wedding day, as the two of you stand in front of all your loved ones and the officiator he says the most beautiful vows ever, telling you that "if death do us part then i hope to find you in every lifetime" and once he ended with that sentence, he squeezed your hand three times. i. love. you.

you always knew your husband loved you because his actions spoke a thousand words to you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜

sigh. TSUKISHIMA FREAKING KEI!!!!!!!!, akaashi keiji (he writes notes back to you), KITA. SHINSUKE., iwaizumi hajime (30) athletic trainer, suna rintarou, USHIJIMA, kageyama tobio (squeezed your hand a lot when you started dating), MIYA OSAMU, sakusa kiyoomi, OH OH OH AONE!!,

[thebestsetter]

I love it when my husband has a bad day.

Don't get me wrong, it's not like I want to see him sad because things didn't go as planned during practice or that teammate of his was more annoying then usual. I just like the way he acts when he comes home to me after a bad day.

Some people shout and get angry. Other people isolate themselves to calm down after those (unavoidable) bad days. But not the man I promissed to love in sickness and health.

When he comes home, he doesn't say anything. He takes off his jacket and shoes as quick as possible and just throws himself at me. He then proceeds to nuzzle his head in my neck, still not saying a word, and, after he found the "perfect" position (which I know he did, cause he sighs and smiles when he does find it), he grabs my hand and puts it in hair, as if it's a silent plea for me to tangle my fingers through his locks and massage his scalp.

We spend hours like this. Just me and him bathing in each other's presence, without anything or anyone else to intervee. Sometimes, he even falls asleep, and I want to gush about how comfortable he is around me and yap about how cute he is while sleeping (even if he drools all over the bed most of the times). And then I concentrate on him and him only: his softened breath, his heart pace starting to slow down and those inconscious sounds he lets out when I caress the right spot.

I love to whisper to him about my day while passing my hand underneath his shirt, noticing the tension leaving his body and feeling each muscle he worked oh so hard to build. One time, I even joked about giving him a massage. He didn't deny it, so I think he wants one. He just doesn't know how to ask (we really need to work on this kind of communication).

I love my husband. And I love the domesticity and good moments his bad days provide: just me and him, showing our love for each other without needing to say anything.

ITOSHI RIN, ITOSHI SAE, Barou Shoei, Shidou Ryusei (hear me out on this one), Oliver Aiku, Michael Kaiser, Nagi Seishiro, Kunigami Rensuke, Bakugou Katsuki, Todoroki Shoto, Ushijima Wakatoshi, KAGEYAMA TOBIO, KOZUME KENMA, Tsukishima Kei, Akaashi Keiji

~ A/N: This is heavly inspired by a reddit post I saw!! Apparently, the og post user is @ThrowawayEngland2022 on reddit. Make sure to follow them!!

Masterlist

[merlucide]

boys who would do this

gojo, MEGUMI, GETO, ITADORI, inumaki, maki, KIRISHIMA, KAMINARI, BAKUGOU, HAWKS, SANEMI, genya, obanai, KAGEYAMA, SUGAWARA, daichi, akaashi, IWAZUMI, KUROO, OSAMU, HOSHIUMI, TERUSHIMA, SUNA

——————————————————————

is the haikyuu fandom even alive (ﾟ∀ﾟ)?

made January 3rd 2024

[levenlike11]

his hands come up to your cheeks and hold, looking- rather staring into your soul. you smile and your cheeks in his hands squish up making them look chubbier.

"wanna bite you." he says it still holding instense eye contact. you laugh and a faint smile appears on his face. "i missed you." his head drops on your shoulder and he takes a deep breath of your perfume.

"missed you too." you put your head on his, as if it hasn't only been less than a full day since you last saw each other. he thanks the owners of the place for the dim blue lighting in the dark room as it conceals the blush starting to make itself known on his face.

his hands that are hugging your figure travels down and down until they hit your waist and sneak under your top to caress your soft skin. every inch his fingertips touch burn with excitement and leaves goosebumps on his way.

"missed you so. damn. much." he sighs into your shoulder and places a small kiss on there, slowly moving upwards on your neck. you open yourself to him and throw your head back, enjoying his acts. his hands are softly scratching your back while he keeps kissing and nipping at your skin.

"show me how much you missed me then." you whisper near his ear and peck his lobe, knowing it makes his knees weak every time you do that. his attention is now diverted to your chin, biting it tenderly. "baby-" you whine when he licks the part he bit to soothe the pain he caused.

"my pretty thing. all mine." staring into your eyes again, he touches your nose playfully with his pointer finger. you close your eyes and lean into him, letting your lips touch gently at first. it doesn't take long until he's exploring your mouth feverishly, teeth clattering and tongues brushing against each other with lust.

you push him off of you for a second to take a breath but he chases after your lips and doesn't let you leave. you can taste the drink he previously had on his tongue and it mixes with the minty taste your altoids left in your mouth. he thinks he's found heaven, right here in your arms.

when he eventually pulls back, you can't help but giggle at all the lipstick stains on the lower half of his face. (and trust my word on this one, he wears it proudly until you force him to wash it off- which leads to another make out session, in the bathroom this time.)

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

eren, jean, levi (aot) geto, megumi, toji, nanami (jjk) SUNARIN, hinata, iwaizumi, akaashi (hq) reo, chigiri, rin, sae (blue lock) draken, wakasa, mitsuya (tokyorev) giyuu, sanemi (demon slayer) and anyone else you'd like!

all feedback is extremely appreciated, sorry for the inactivity!🥹🫶🏻

[plutotheplum]

XO

akaashi keiji x fem!reader

summary: being the manager of the msby black jackals is stressful, but when a handsome stranger shows up, you think you might’ve stumbled upon a hidden perk.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, post-time skip, kissing, oral sex, blowjobs, p in v, smut, fluff

wc: 5.3k

a/n: watched the movie last night and i cried (if you saw this post before, no you didn't) <3

also on ao3!

Six months in, and you think you might be ready to quit your job.

Sure, securing a job as the MSBY Black Jackal’s manager was one of your proudest achievements, but no one had told you that you’d be dealing with men like this. You understood that you were in the presence of some of the finest sporting talent in Japan, but these men were wildly immature.

It’s why you’re here now, glaring at the man who had made fun of his teammate.

“What were you thinking?” you hiss, pointing your pen at the offending man.

Atsumu groans, his head tipping back against the wall of the locker room. “I was only having a little fun.”

“A little fun,” you reply, nodding along, “right, and that’s why Bokuto is off sulking in who knows where!”

“C’mon!” Atsumu protests, leaning forward, staring at you desperately, “I made a comment on the color of his shoes! How was I supposed to know that was gonna set him off?”

You can feel a headache begin to set in and you sigh, pointing towards the door of the locker room.

“Just go warm up, okay? I’ll try and find Bokuto.”

Atsumu nods, and has the grace to look at least a little apologetic as he pats your shoulder and leaves.

You follow him soon after, out of the locker room. Bokuto’s sulking most likely meant he wasn’t going to perform as well. You knew about his bouts of being discouraged, had seen it during the occasional game when something would set him off. People are milling about, and you quicken your pace, turning a corner to finally find Bokuto sitting on a bench.

“Bokuto!” you call out, the relief in your voice clear.

The outside hitter looks up at you, a pout on his face. 

“You ready for the game?” you ask, putting on a wide smile to try and make him feel better.

“Do you think they’re ugly?” 

“W- what?”

“My shoes,” he says, pointing at them, “do you think they’re ugly?”

You have half the mind to tell him that they’re just shoes and that he should grow up, but the look of utter despair on his face has you holding back. A quick glance down at his shoes and from what you can gather, they look relatively… normal. You were definitely going to kill Atsumu later.

“They look fine,” you say, pausing when you see his frown deepen. Your fingers tighten around the clipboard clutched against your chest and you put on a cheery smile, voice pitching up. “I meant they look totally great! And they really suit you!”

Bokuto makes no attempt to move, simply stares down at his shoes and traces one of the stripes absentmindedly. You’re at your wits end, growing antsy as you check your watch and realize there’s only 10 minutes before the game starts.

“I could get you some new-“

“You doing okay?”

A voice breaks in through from behind you and your head turns, brows furrowing when you see an unfamiliar man. The lanyard around his neck has a card attached to it, bold letters spelling out VIP . 

“Akaashi!” Bokuto sits up, his eyes lighting up for a moment, “do you like my shoes?”

You stare at the pair of men, bewildered. The man, Akaashi, pats Bokuto’s shoulder and lowers his voice to whisper some words to the pro-volleyball player. In what you think might be the quickest change of mood from Bokuto yet, the volleyball player stands up and gives a hearty laugh, his chest puffing out. 

You’re even more stunned when he pats your back happily and jogs off in the direction of the court.

“How did you do that?” you blurt out, eyes flitting towards the man who was now standing beside you.

“I used to play with Bokuto in highschool,” Akaashi replies, shoving his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “Fukurodani. I was the team’s setter so I had to get used to Bokuto's little slumps.”

Huh. That did make more sense. You narrow your eyes, examining the man a little more. He’s handsome, sure, his glasses sitting on the slope of his nose as he shifts on the spot. Akaashi stares back down at you expectantly.

“Uh- well, thank you,” you say, holding your hand out and giving him a sheepish smile. “I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to get him onto the court at all today.”

“Don’t mention it,” he says, his hand shaking yours. 

You introduce yourselves and he follows you onto the stands, both of you overlooking the two teams as they line up on the court. Nervousness makes you restless, your teeth biting into your lower lip as you watch the players get into position. You really wanted the Jackals to win.

“Relax,” Akaashi murmurs, his head lowering to speak directly into your ear to help you hear better over the roar of the crowd.

Your eyes meet his and he stares back at you intently, his hand squeezing at your shoulder gently. You think some sort of magic might be laced into his words with the way your body loosens slightly, your tense shoulders dropping.

“Thank you,” you mumble, giving him a faint smile.

Akaashi smiles back and squeezes your shoulder one more time before his hand drops away. You nearly protest against it, wanting to feel the heat of his body near yours again, but you can’t because you’ve only just met the man and you aren’t that desperate.

The game goes perfectly well, thankfully, and you’re up on the tips of your toes cheering for the Jackals as they shake hands with the other team. Your previous nervousness has all  melted away, leaving only a feeling of pure giddiness. Akaashi claps with you, his reaction much more toned down compared to yours.

“You can come down with me,” you say breathlessly, flicking through a few pages on your clipboard to find the schedule for the post game press conference.

Akaashi nods, his eyes drifting over you for a moment. “Yeah, I’ll come. I need to congratulate Bokuto anyways.”

You beam up at him and against better judgment, hand him a copy of the schedule before giving him a wave and disappearing off to meet the team. Akaashi watches as you flutter away, skirt swaying, the piece of paper clutched tightly in his hand. 

- 

“No talk of shoes, okay?” you warn Atsumu as you had him a bottle of cold water. “We can’t have Bokuto breaking down on national television.”

“You worry too much,” Atsumu complains, pressing the bottle of water against his flushed cheek.

“My job is on the line!” you argue, giving the man a glare.

Atsumu only gives you a pout and you thank Meian when he comes to get his teammate, grateful for the captain’s unwavering leadership.

You slip into the conference room before long, making sure to give the Jackals an encouraging smile and a thumbs up before you sidle up to the wall, watching as the various reporters ready their questions.

A few bottles of water sit on a table beside you and you reach for one, twisting at the cap. The stupid plastic burns across your skin harshly, making a glare settle on your face as you narrow your eyes at the bottle of water. You try again but to no avail, the cap latching on stubbornly tight. A soft curse gets muttered under your breath before someone’s hand reaches out, grabbing the bottle of water from you.

You blink in surprise when you realize it’s Akaashi, his hand twisting at the cap effortlessly and breaking the seal. 

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“That’s the third time today,” he whispers back, his eyes glimmering with mirth, “should I keep sticking around for more of your thanks?”

A smile pulls at your lips and you glance up at him to find him smiling back. 

“Don’t be an asshole,” you mutter, elbowing him in the side lightly.

Akaashi hums in response, his warm hand grasping at your elbow to hold you in place. You freeze for a moment, surprise flitting across your face but then you lean into him slightly, avoiding his eyes as you press into his side. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything, just stands there with you, his eyes trained on the little notes you scribble on paper as the players speak.

To your relief, Atsumu manages to steer clear from the topic of shoes, answering the reporters’ questions thoroughly with a bit of humor thrown in, to lighten the atmosphere of the press conference. You find that you can’t really be all that mad at the man, he knew how to get the job done when it came to it.

The press conference comes to a close half an hour later and Akaashi trails after you as you usher the men back into the main foyer.

“Good job everyone,” you announce before flicking through a few pages of your clipboard. “The Chairman has been impressed with your performance this season, so he’s personally sent a congratulatory cake.” You stare pointedly at Atsumu and Bokuto. “Please make sure to not make a mess.”

The men are gone in a rush before you can say anything else and you smile fondly, shaking your head.

“You gonna let me get in on this cake thing?” Akaashi asks, raising his brows.

“You’re welcome to join,” you reply, shooting him a smile as you try to not sound too eager. “You do have VIP status, after all.”

Akaashi smiles back and you think it might be a miracle that your legs haven’t given out under the soft gaze he sends you. 

Thankfully, Atsumu and Bokuto don’t make a mess although you do spot them bribing Hinata to bring them a few more slices, the orange-haired man utterly oblivious to the fact.

“Hey,” Akaashi murmurs, stepping in beside you as you finish off your piece of cake. “You’ve got a little something.” He motions to the corner of your mouth.

“Oh!” you flush with embarrassment, wiping at the corner of your mouth with a napkin. “Gone?”

“Just a little more,” he says, watching as you try and fail to get rid of the chocolate icing that’s smudged over your lips and the corner of your mouth. “Just- here, let me.”

You freeze when he reaches out for you, his thumb swiping over your lip and skin gently, cleaning you up.

“Napkin?” you ask weakly, offering it to him so he can clean his thumb.

“No need.”

Akaashi keeps his eyes on you as he licks the pad of his thumb, your hazy eyes following the motion of his tongue, a rush of heat pooling in your lower stomach.

“Do you-” you begin, clearing your throat when you hear how airy your voice has become, “do you do this often?”

A smile pulls at his lips and he leans in a little closer, his breath fanning across your skin as his mouth opens to murmur something into your ear.

“Hey, hey, hey!”

You jolt, half-lidded eyes snapping open when you find Bokuto slinging his arm around Akaashi’s shoulders. Irritation flashes through Akaashi’s eyes but it seems to fade when Bokuto begins to speak animatedly, detailing the past events Akaashi had missed.

Part of you would’ve liked to speak to Akaashi more, but you can’t find it in yourself to fault Bokuto, deciding to busy yourself with getting another slice of cake. A heavy arm slings itself around your shoulders and you roll your eyes when you realize it’s Atsumu, the wide grin on his face making you feel uneasy.

“Saw you getting real chummy with Bokuto’s friend,” he whispers conspiratorially, trying to swipe at your cake slice. 

“I was being friendly,” you retort, glaring up at Atsumu.

“You look like you wanna fuck him.”

“Your observations are not appreciated,” you grit out, trying to squirm away from under him when he steers you into a corner.

“Good news is, I think he wants to fuck you too,” Atsumu says smugly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“ Why are you doing this?” you groan, cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

“Because you, my lovely manager, deserve happiness!” he says cheerily.

Your eyes narrow, taking in the smile on Atsumu’s face, suspicion flaring. “What did you do?”

“What?” Atsumu’s smile falters. “Nothing. Why do you always assume I did something?”

“Because you usually do something, Atsumu,” you reply exasperatedly, trying to peek out from behind him to catch another glimpse of Akaashi.

Atsumu rolls his eyes, moving to the side so as to block your view of Akaashi.

“Let’s hear it then,” you say, peering up at him. 

He beams at you, his head lowering so he can whisper into your ear. “Just make sure you take charge. Guys like that sort of thing. Yank him by the shirt or something and kiss him. My advice is foolproof .”

Was the advice really foolproof if the fool himself was giving it to you?

You shoot Atsumu a skeptical look, waving him off before he puts any more ridiculous ideas into your mind. 

As the night passes, the amount of players reduces, deciding to make their way back home. Atsumu shoots you a wink in passing and you glare back at him, fighting the urge to swat him.

“Heading home?” 

You blink up to find Akaashi standing beside you, his brows raised.

“Yeah,” you say, a wistful smile coming across your face, “it’s been a long day.”

“I could drive you home?” Akaashi offers, falling into step beside you as you both exit the volleyball stadium.

You had been planning to just catch an uber or something, but when Akaashi stares down at you like that , his gaze soft and lips looking sickeningly inviting, you nod immediately.

A few stolen glances later coupled with you biting back an inappropriate remark at the way his lithe fingers wrap around the steering wheel, you find yourself standing opposite Akaashi in the open doorway of your apartment.

“I guess I’ll see you around?” you say, peering up at Akaashi.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Akaashi murmurs, his hands shoving into his pockets.

Akaashi shows no signs of leaving however. Silence passes over you as you both just stand there, staring at each other. Your gaze dips down to his shirt, trying to stop Atsumu’s obnoxious voice from blaring through your normally rational decision making.

Yank him by the shirt or something and kiss him.

Eyes flitting up again, you decide to take your chances. Your hand curls into Akaashi’s shirt, yanking him towards you, lips crashing onto his. Several seconds pass and Akaashi stands there limply, his lips unmoving and non-reciprocating. 

“I’m so sorry,” you blurt out, feeling utterly mortified as you let go of him. “Atsumu said you wanted to fu- I mean- he said guys liked that sort of thing!”

At the same time, Akaashi begins to speak. “Bokuto said you weren’t interested.”

“ What? ” you sputter, eyes widening. Frustration sets your nerves alight and you fish out your phone, dialing Bokuto’s number, ready to give him an earful. 

“Hey,” Akaashi says, plucking your phone from your hand and setting it down onto a nearby dresser, “think you could do that after I kiss you?”

Your flurry of movements pauses, breath hitching when he steps inside your apartment, the door shutting behind him softly. He smiles down at you, arm wrapping around your waist to pull you closer.

“Oh,” you breathe out, eyes fluttering as he spins you around, pushing you up against the door gently, “y-yeah, I can do that.”

“Yeah?” he whispers, the tip of his nose brushing yours. One of his hands slips up higher, smoothing over the length of your neck to cup your cheek.

You let out an incoherent noise, managing out a jerky nod. Akaashi laughs, tilting your head to the side as he places a soft kiss on your cheek. Your eyes flutter shut, heart racing uncontrollably in your chest as he drags his lips across your skin, planting another kiss to the corner of your mouth.

His glasses dig into your skin but you can hardly find it in yourself to care, pulling him closer desperately when he slots his lips over yours. Akaashi kisses you heatedly and you whine, arms wrapping around his neck to return his kisses eagerly. His tongue gently parts your lips, hands slipping back down to squeeze at your waist and move you flush against him.

A few stumbles later and you’re pushing his chest, watching as he falls back onto the couch. Akaashi grins, his thighs spreading invitingly as he gets comfortable.

“Come sit on my lap, baby.”

You don’t have to be told twice. You scramble up onto his lap, straddling his hips, lips finding his again. Akaashi groans when you run your fingers through his hair, hips rolling across his lap as he spreads his fingers over your skirt, groping at your ass.

“So- so you do wanna fuck me?” you ask breathily, unable to resist yourself from leaning forward and stealing another kiss.

“I thought I made myself obvious,” Akaashi replies, his hands slipping under your skirt to feel the warm, bare skin of your thighs.

A soft hum leaves you, fingers tracing across his cheek before reaching out to take his glasses off, setting them down. You smile down at him hazily and Akaashi smiles back, maneuvering your body so that you’re laying down, head nestled in the cushions.

You bite your lip when he kisses down your neck, sighing softly when he undoes the buttons of your shirt, pulling it apart. Akaashi’s eyes darken when he sees the swell of your breasts in your bra, his hands reaching out to grope at them greedily. You fumble around, unclasping your bra, tossing it behind you.

“So pretty, baby,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your lips before kissing down your body.

You gasp when his tongue swirls around your nipple, squirming underneath him as his hot mouth envelops it, sucking and licking, even nipping gently making your body twitch. Back arching, you moan, fingers tugging at his soft hair. Akaashi lets out a hum, mouth opening wide to suck your breast into his mouth, groaning when he feels your hips buck underneath him.

“ Fuck ,” Akaashi hisses, his fingers rubbing at your clothed cunt, panties utterly drenched, “you’re dripping. How long have you been like this?”

You flush, looking away. Akaashi clicks his tongue, grabbing your chin to turn your gaze back onto him.

“Tell me,” he coaxes, rucking your skirt up before he tugs your panties up, watching the hard press of the fabric outline your puffy folds.

“Maybe- maybe since you opened that water bottle for me,” you mumble, blinking up at him innocently. 

Akaashi’s grip falters, his brows shooting up in surprise. Your cheeks are hot, eyes dropping to find his cock straining against his trousers, the bulge making you lick your lips.

“That long?” he whispers, leaning in.

“Mhm,” you nod, arms looping around his neck to pull him into a sloppy kiss, tongue and all.

“If I knew it was that easy, I would’ve done it the moment I saw you,” Akaashi smiles, his nose nudging against yours as he continues to rub your pussy through your panties.

“Shut up!” you laugh, pushing at his chest.

He laughs with you, smacking a quick kiss to your cheek before slinking down, pulling your thighs apart. A contented sigh leaves you when he licks up over your ruined panties, mewling softly when he pulls them to the side to get a glimpse of your slick pussy.

“Such a pretty pussy. All of you is so pretty,” he murmurs, pulling your panties off. 

You don’t miss the way he tucks them into his pocket.

Akaashi’s mouth encloses around your clit, sucking with fervor. You let out a strangled moan, fingers fisting his hair roughly, thighs twitching. 

“A- Akaashi,” you whine, hips rolling up to meet his mouth needily, “ hah- oh fuck!- ”

His nose nudges into your clit when he stops suckling on your clit, licking up a wide strip along the length of cunt, a low moan slipping out of him as he watches your cunt clench and flutter around nothing.

“Taste so fucking good,” he rasps, arms curling around your thighs, thumbing apart your folds to press his tongue in deeper, licking over the velvety flesh of your cunt.

You moan again, breath catching in your throat when his thumb finds your clit, rubbing tight circles into the sensitive bud before his tongue presses into your aching pussy, thrusting in and out of you. He makes an obscene sound and you tug at his hair roughly, pushing his face deeper into your cunt, squealing when he shakes his head, tongue swiping all over you.

“Don’t stop,” you whisper, beginning to chant drunkenly, “don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

Akaashi grunts into your pussy, spreading apart your folds against to spit on your cunt, his tongue swirling around your swollen clit before sucking it into his mouth. He suckles on it hard ; the sensation making your toes curl and eyes squeeze shut tightly. 

“Gonna cum?” he asks, a hoarse laugh leaving him when you push his head back down.

You nod rapidly, hands squeezing at your breasts, pinching and tugging at your own nipples. Akaashi slips his fingers up past your chin and your mouth opens obediently, hips rolling up as you suck on his fingers. 

A whimper escapes you when his teeth graze your clit, his tongue laving over it again as he sucks desperately, driving you further and further to the edge.

“Cum on my tongue, baby,” Akaashi whispers, “wanna watch you cum all pretty and needy.”

You don’t need any more encouragement, back arching as your body draws taut. You cum with a cry of his name, squeaking when he licks over your oversensitive pussy, thighs clamping around his head while your fingers tangle in his soft, black hair. 

Akaashi pulls away with one final suckle to your clit, peppering kisses up your body before slotting his lips over yours again. You whine softly, cupping his cheek to return his kisses feverishly, feeling the press of his clothed cock against your inner thigh.

“Take your clothes off,” you say softly, pecking his lips sweetly.

You squirm out of your skirt and top when he gets off of you, watching with hazy eyes as he pulls his shirt up over your head. The flex of his biceps has you letting out a low whine, fingers slipping between your thighs, unable to help yourself, rubbing your clit unabashedly.

Akaashi doesn’t miss the movement, shooting you a lazy grin, his hand smoothing over his trousers, squeezing at his bulge.

“Enjoying the view?” he murmurs, unbuttoning his trousers, “hm, baby?”

“‘m enjoying it a lot,” you reply airily, entranced by the motion of his hand as he grasps himself through his boxers.

Your breath catches in your throat when he pushes his boxers down, tongue feeling heavy as you watch the bob of his cock, heavy and thick. The hardened length twitches when he wraps his hand around himself, pumping his cock, pre-cum beading at the tip.

“T-taste?” you mewl, slipping off the couch and crawling towards him, “wanna taste, ‘kaashi.”

“Needy baby,” he whispers, running his fingers through your hair, brushing it out of your face.

Your eyes flutter shut when he bends, meeting his lips in a short kiss. Akaashi presses the head of his cock against your lips soon after, a moan slipping out of him when he sees the way his pre-cum spreads across your lips.

You lick your lips, mewling at the taste of his pre-cum, mouth opening wider, tongue lolling out.

“Want it,” you whisper, fingers digging into thighs, “please?”

“‘m gonna give it to you,” Akaashi rasps, grasping the base of his cock to smack the head of it against your tongue a few times. “Go ahead, pretty.”

You hum happily, mouth wrapping around his cock, hand curling around the base of it. Akaashi groans, his head tipping back as you squirm on your knees, fingers finding your slippery clit again.

“Just like that,” he whispers when you begin to bob your head, tongue swirling around the head of his cock, suckling gently.

Akaashi’s thighs twitch, the hand tangled in your hair tightening when you shuffle closer, mouth stretching open to take more of him into your mouth. 

You suck and lick, practically dripping onto the carpet beneath you as you hear the grunts and groans that leave Akaashi. He sounds pretty, the little airy gasps and stutters of his breath giving you the encouragement to try and take him deeper, your nose pressing into the black tufts of coarse hair at the base of his cock, before you pull off with watery eyes.

“I might have a hard time letting go of you after this,” Akaashi says, watching as you blink up at him with starry eyes, stroking his hand over your hair as you mouth lazily across the length of his cock. 

“So don’t,” you whisper, laving your tongue across the head of his cock, tasting his pre-cum.

You land a soft kiss to the tip, tilting your head to kiss at his heavy balls. Akaashi stops you before you can suck them into your mouth, dipping his head down to kiss you instead.

“‘m gonna cum if you do that,” he whispers against your lips.

“That’s sort of the point,” you smile, hand stroking along his length.

He snorts, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you up onto your feet. His throbbing cock presses against your stomach as you wind your arms around his neck, pulling him down for another kiss. Akaashi gropes at the fat of your ass appreciatively, both of you standing together as you makeout languidly. 

You pull away for air soon after, hands roaming across his firm chest, eyes growing hazier with the way the muscles of his abdomen flex under your touch. A glob of pre-cum beads at the tip of Akaashi’s cock and you grasp his hand, rocking up to kiss his cheek before pulling him after you.

“Wanna ride my cock?” he whispers, teeth nipping at your earlobe gently when you lead him into your bedroom.

“Y- yeah,” you reply airily, crawling up onto his lap when he sits down, his back against the headboard of your bed.

You rock your hips, grinding your cunt against his hot length, mewling softly when the tip of it nudges against your clit a few times. Akaashi catches your chin, pulling you forward for another filthy kiss, his hands smoothing up and down the length of your back.

“Sink down on it, baby.”

A soft whimper escapes you at his low voice, hands gripping his shoulders as you rise up onto your knees. Akaashi wraps his hand around the base of his cock, holding it for you. His head tips back, a guttural groan leaving him when you sink down on his cock, your nails digging into his skin.

“ Oh- ” you whine, “‘kaashi- hah- ”

“Keiji,” he replies, fingers dimpling the fat of your hips, trying to gain some semblance of control with the way your cunt’s clenching around his cock, “call me Keiji, baby.”

You let out a dazed sigh, rolling your hips and whining again, your own head tipping back.

“K- Keiji, you feel so good.”

Akaashi moans appreciatively in response to your words, landing a spank to your ass to urge you to move. You hiccup, cupping his cheeks, mouth dropping open in a silent moan as you roll your hips one more time and begin to rise and fall on his cock.

He keeps his eyes on you, letting out soft pants as you mewl and whimper out his name, hips swaying back to meet his thrusts when he begins to move his hips too.

“Good girl,” Akaashi whispers, head dipping to suck your breast into his mouth, “gripping me so tight, baby.”

“Keiji,” you mewl, dragging out his name in a needy call.

“‘m right here, pretty,” Akaashi murmurs, arms wrapping around your waist more firmly. 

You squeal when he lifts you up and begins to drop you down onto his cock himself, his face pressing into your chest, leaving desperate, heated open-mouthed kisses against your sweaty skin as he makes you take his cock.

“Oh fuck-,” you begin to gasp out, eyes squeezing shut, “ oh fuck! ”

“Take it,” Akaashi hisses, hands drifting down to grip the fat of your ass tighter, “fucking take my cock, baby.”

A surprised squeak leaves you when he lays you down, his cock pushing into you almost immediately after. Your legs wrap around his hips, hand reaching for his as he fucks his cock into you, the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoing lewdly throughout the room.

You scrabble at the bedsheets, trying to find some purchase as Akaashi drives his cock into you harder and faster.

“Gonna make me cum,” he grunts, face pressing into the crook of your neck, his body dropping to be flush against yours, hips rolling to a slow grind.

“‘m gonna cum too,” you say weakly, eyes fluttering as he mouths at your breast lazily. 

Akaashi peers down at you when he pushes himself up, bullying his cock into your cunt, balls pressed snugly against your ass.

“Can I cum inside?” he asks softly, brushing your hair out of your face.

“You’re a terrible influence,” you sigh, giving him a dazed smile as you pull him down for a kiss, “but yes, you can.”

Akaashi grins, mouth slotting over yours again, thumb rubbing at your clit. He groans when he feels you clench around him, his hips stuttering jerkily when you dig your heels into the backs of thighs, forcing him to push his cock in deeper. 

“Brat,” he hisses, head dropping forward as he lets out a low whine, cock jerking inside of you as he cums.

You squirm, back arching as his thumb rubs harder, thighs twitching as you fall apart on his cock. Akaashi pants against your chest, his eyes squeezed shut as he lets out a few more whines, thick cum filling you up.

He rolls off of you so as to not crush you with his weight, running his hand through his hair. You curl up into his side, leaning forward to kiss his jaw.

“‘m gonna go clean up,” you whisper.

Akaashi nods, patting your hip affectionately, his eyes trained on the sway of your hips as you disappear into the bathroom.

You tug on a fresh shirt and a pair of panties, crawling back into bed to find Akaashi’s pulled his boxers back up over his hips, the manga volume you had been reading last night in his hand.

“It’s good,” you inform him, pressing into his side, head resting on his shoulder as you look over the little panels of drawings.

“I’d hope so,” Akaashi says, his hand rubbing at your side absentmindedly.

“Why?” you ask, brows furrowing.

“I happen to be the editor.”

You stare at him blankly, eyes flitting from his towards the manga. “No way.” You snatch the manga from him, flipping through towards the large page. His name is there in the little lettering, plain as day.

Editing: Akaashi Keiji

He smiles at you, nuzzling into your cheek, pressing several kisses here and there.

“Well,” you say, setting the manga down and wrapping your arms around his neck, “now you have to tell me what’s to come.”

“My lips are sealed,” Akaashi replies, kissing the corner of your mouth.

“Keiji!” you whine, pouting up at him.

“Not happening, baby,” he says, shaking his head before leaning forward to kiss the pout off of your mouth.

You let out an irritated huff, pushing his head away when he tries to kiss you again.

“Look at that,” he muses, “you get all sulky like Bokuto.”

“Please don’t insult me.”

[sqtorux]

you cunningly rock your hips while sitting on his lap and he's STRUGGLING.

and you're so sly knowing exactly what you're doing to him. you can see him visibly struggling, his jaw clenched hard but you have no intention of stopping.

"isn't it so hot guys?" you adjust your seating, grinding against his erection subtly. your circle of friends agree but he's not listening or contributing to the discussion about some temperature.

you push further bravely upon seeing how desperate he was and move up a notch, gently brushing your hands on his rock hard dick.

he exhales a breath of hot hair, tickling the back of your neck and your confidence splurges. you boldly rock your hips again, just one more and you're done — you promise yourself.

but just as you were about to execute your amazing idea, big firm hands stop your motions short. they hold against your hips, immobilising you in place.

he leans closer into the crook of your neck, grunting softly "you're gonna regret that."

"regret what?" you look at him innocently.

he huffs out an annoyed scoff as his hot breath tingles the side of your neck "lets see how slick you can be when i have my way with you later."

gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, toji fushiguro, nakahara chuuya, tetcho suehiro, michizo tatchihara, shota aizawa, dabi, akaashi keiji, tsukishima kei, wakatoshi ushijima, levi ackerman + your contributions?

[shoyospikes]

BED HEAD KENMA

B E D H E A D K E N M A

WE LOVE BED HEAD KENMA

HES SUCH A CUTIE PATTOIEEE

KENMA FANS UNITEE

RAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH

☆～⁠(⁠つ⁠ˆ⁠Д⁠ˆ⁠)⁠つ⁠｡⁠☆～⁠(⁠つ⁠ˆ⁠Д⁠ˆ⁠)⁠つ⁠｡⁠☆～⁠(⁠つ⁠ˆ⁠Д⁠ˆ⁠)⁠つ⁠｡⁠☆～⁠(⁠つ⁠ˆ⁠Д⁠ˆ⁠)⁠つ⁠｡⁠☆～⁠(⁠つ⁠ˆ⁠Д⁠ˆ⁠)⁠つ⁠｡⁠☆～⁠(⁠つ⁠ˆ⁠Д⁠ˆ⁠)⁠つ⁠｡⁠☆

[semiis]

their cuddle positions w/haikyuu

pairing: various x reader

genre: headcanons ; fluff

warning(s): none

a/n: this is an old post i uploaded on my hq blog from 2020. this was one of my favorites so I thought it was be nice to post it again. back then, i went with the ones i wrote for so i'm keeping it just the way it is. i’m really sorry if your favorite isn’t there. i hope you guys like them !!

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

atsumu, ushijima, daichi ⥼ the sweetheart cradle. i personally think this would be his go to cuddling position. his arm wrapped around you, holding you close while he lays on his back, your head buried deep into his chest while you inhale the scent of his cologne. most definitely pats or strokes your head as a sign of comfort or whispers nothing but comforting words to you. 

suna, kageyama, tsukishima ⥼ the leg hug. i don’t know why, but this is definitely you guy’s go to. the two of you would be chilling on either one’s bed, sleeping, on the phone, playing games etc. while one of your legs are entangled together. it’s much more relaxing to him and you both get the physical contact you were craving from each other. 

oikawa, sugawara, kita, asahi ⥼ the honeymoon hug. oikawa loves the physical affection between you two and whenever he’s feeling touch starved this is his go to. the both of you are entwined together, holding the other tight, arms wrapped around each other - almost as if refusing to let go. his chin (or yours) is delicately propped up on top of yours. he can feel your breath against the crook of his neck and he adores it. sometimes find him or yourself peppering soft kisses on the other. 

bokuto, lev, yamaguchi ⥼ the spoon. he loves cuddling, especially when it’s with you. he mostly loves cuddling after a long day a practice when he’s beat and worn out.  he lives for having his arms securely around your torso while your back is pressed up against his chest. you would sometimes find his hands caressing your sides or arms and he’d be eager to leave the most tender kisses against the back of your neck. 

hinata, osamu, noya, tanaka ⥼ the butt pillow. you or him laying on your stomach while the other has their head propped up on your butt. also an easy way to tease his s/o. he loves it. the “best pillow in the room” and the only one you guys want to lay your head against. it’s common if he strokes/caresses your leg, might even draw an invisible heart on it. 

tendou, kuroo, iwaizumi, semi ⥼ the cradle. he enjoys when you're laying on top of him, legs on either side of his body, cradling him while his arms hold you firm against his chest. you listen to the sound of his heartbeat and almost find yourself falling asleep to the soothing, rhythmic sound. 

kenma, sakusa, akaashi ⥼ the lap pillow. he’s fond of laying his head in your lap and often finds himself doing it every time he comes over to your place and vice versa. play with his hair, stroke his cheek with your finger, boop his nose, bend over to place kisses on his face - all of them would make him melt. loves peering up at your face from that angle and admires just how attractive you are. 

© semiis 2024 ; do not translate, repost, modify, or copy my work.