#Haikyu x Y/N

[your-local-simp-writers]

Secret Santa

Word Count: 5615

Warnings: None

Headcanons: Inarizaki x Fem! Manager ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Day 1: The Name Exchange The excitement for Inarizaki’s first-ever Secret Santa was contagious as Y/N stood before the volleyball team, the Santa hat in her hands rustling with small slips of paper. She couldn’t help but smile at the eager looks and hushed anticipation around her as the team huddled closer, trying to catch a glimpse.

“Alright, listen up, everyone!” she called out, her voice cutting through the chatter. “Each of you has a name in here. Draw one, keep it a secret, and remember—two weeks until the big reveal! We’ll meet at my place the night before Christmas for the exchange.”

A few groans of playful protest mixed with laughter. Suna nudged Aran with a smirk, teasing him about what he might end up with. Atsumu made a big show of cracking his knuckles, promising he’d find the ultimate gift—“as long as I don’t get Osamu’s name,” he joked, earning a light shove from his twin.

Y/N went around with the hat, watching as the players reached in, each drawing their slip with a sense of mystery and excitement. There were chuckles, a few raised eyebrows, and Atsumu muttering dramatically, “Oh, the suspense!” as he held his slip close to his chest, causing the others to roll their eyes.

When Y/N drew her own name, her eyes lit up as she unfolded the paper. Aran! She’d always thought of him as a dependable friend, and she immediately wanted her gift to show how much she valued him. Her mind buzzed with ideas as she pictured his usual calm, steady smile, and the warmth he brought to the team. Maybe she could do something unexpected, something unique that would make him feel genuinely appreciated.

Kita, on the other hand, had approached the hat with his usual calm demeanor, but as he unfolded his slip and saw Y/N’s name, his heart skipped a beat. He rarely showed his emotions openly, yet the weight of choosing something that would resonate with her felt both daunting and exciting. As captain, he knew her value to the team better than anyone, her quiet dedication and the way she supported each player in her own way. He found himself already thinking of what might make her smile, what could show her how appreciated she truly was.

As the last names were drawn and the team dispersed, everyone left the gym with a bit of holiday spirit—and a bit of secret anticipation—in the air.

Day 2: Observing Clues

The second day after drawing names, Y/N was back in the familiar buzz of Inarizaki’s gym. The faint echo of sneakers squeaking against polished floors and the steady thud of volleyballs filled the air as the team warmed up. It was one of those crisp winter mornings where sunlight poured through the high windows, casting long, amber streaks across the gym floor. Y/N leaned against the wall, taking notes on her clipboard, glancing up periodically to watch the boys’ drills. Her gaze, however, kept drifting to Aran.

He was in the middle of stretching with Suna, the two exchanging banter over a missed shot from the last game. Y/N caught herself smiling, noticing how Aran’s laughter seemed to resonate warmly in the cool gym air. Then, as practice wrapped up and the team headed for water, she noticed the telltale sign—Aran reached for his headphones, that familiar gesture he did every day. His music routine. She watched as he carefully untangled the wires, placing one earbud in as he leaned back against the wall, eyes drifting closed, nodding subtly to whatever song he had queued up today.

Seizing the moment, Y/N approached him casually, making her way across the gym while dodging stray volleyballs. She leaned against the water cooler next to him, the sound of clinking ice and the hum of the vending machine filling the space. “Hey, Aran!” she called, trying to sound offhand. “Got any good songs lately?”

Aran cracked one eye open, pulling the earbud halfway out. “Oh, hey, Y/N,” he said, his grin easy and relaxed. “Just my usual stuff. You know, same ol’ songs on repeat. Keeps me grounded after a long practice.” He chuckled, clearly embarrassed about his routine, but Y/N could tell music was something he genuinely enjoyed.

She tilted her head thoughtfully, filing the detail away. “You should send me some recommendations sometime,” she teased lightly. “Gotta keep up with what everyone’s listening to, you know?”

Aran laughed, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, sure. I don’t know if it’s anything special, but I’ll send a few songs your way.”

Y/N left the interaction with a grin, her mind racing with ideas. A custom playlist and a quality portable speaker—that was it. Something personal but useful, a gift that would fit seamlessly into his life. She turned away to note her thoughts on her clipboard, nearly colliding with Kita, who was silently observing her as he collected water for himself.

He straightened up, his posture composed as always, but his gaze lingered on Y/N’s bag. It was the same bag she always carried: large, slightly battered, with straps that had seen better days. He noticed how she constantly adjusted it during practice, the way she shifted it to one shoulder as she darted between players to pass out towels, check equipment, and manage schedules.

Kita cleared his throat softly, catching her attention. “Y/N, your bag seems... well-used,” he remarked, voice calm but attentive.

She glanced down at the worn fabric, smiling fondly. “Yeah, it’s seen a lot, huh? But it’s my good luck charm. I feel like I can’t do my job without it,” she laughed, giving it a small pat.

Kita nodded thoughtfully, making a mental note. The bag, he realized, was more than just a tool for her; it was part of her rhythm as the team’s manager. If he found something similar—something just as sturdy and functional but with a touch of style—it might be the perfect way to show his appreciation. He allowed himself a small, determined smile, resolved to find a gift that would support Y/N as seamlessly as she supported them.

As the players returned to the court, Y/N and Kita both fell into the rhythm of practice, but both kept a quiet, secret excitement bubbling beneath the surface, each imagining how their gifts might surprise and delight their Secret Santas.

Day 6: Ideas Taking Shape

The gym was alive with the sound of sneakers squeaking against the polished court, the soft rhythm of volleyballs bouncing against the floor, and the occasional shout of encouragement from the players. Y/N stood near the bench, her clipboard tucked under her arm, keeping an eye on the practice while brainstorming her gift for Aran. The air smelled faintly of the gym’s polish and the chalky scent of the volleyball court.

She had been observing Aran more closely over the past few days, trying to get a better sense of what he might appreciate. As he hit a spike across the court, a slight grin pulling at the corners of his mouth, Y/N recalled a conversation from a week ago. Aran had been talking about his love for live concerts, especially the raw energy of the crowd and the unpredictability of those moments. He’d mentioned his favorite concerts, how he'd often play the recordings in his room, the sounds filling the space as if he were there, surrounded by that energy.

Her eyes sparkled with an idea, and she stepped aside, making a mental note. She could create a custom playlist for him, one with live versions of his favorite songs, capturing the essence of that experience. But she didn’t want to stop there. Y/N knew Aran well enough to understand that he appreciated quality, something that would reflect the effort she put into the gift. A high-quality portable speaker would be the perfect match for the playlist. She imagined him listening to the tracks, the sounds of the crowd flooding through the speaker as he relaxed after practice. It would be a gift that mixed both personal and practical, with a touch of thoughtfulness.

While Y/N was lost in her thoughts, the other players continued their practice, moving in and out of drills. She overheard a conversation between Sakusa and Atsumu, both arguing about which music genre was better for post-practice relaxation. Y/N chuckled to herself, but her mind remained focused on Aran’s gift. The idea was starting to take shape, and she couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction.

Across the gym, Kita was also absorbed in his own thoughts, though his gaze was fixed on Y/N. He watched her as she worked, effortlessly moving from player to player, offering gentle encouragement and the occasional correction. Her usual energy was contagious, but today, Kita noticed something else—her bag. It was slung over her shoulder, worn from years of use, its edges fraying just slightly. As Y/N moved through the gym, her movements fluid but with a slight struggle as she tried to reach for something inside her bag, Kita saw the small zipper snag.

It wasn’t just that the bag had seen better days—it was a symbol of how hard she worked to balance everything, always carrying the weight of her responsibilities. Kita’s thoughts immediately went to the idea he had been toying with since day one: getting her a new, high-quality bag. He wanted something that would be functional and reflect her commitment to the team, but also stylish enough to suit her personality. It had to be practical, yet show that he saw the effort she put in.

The following evening, after practice, Kita found himself wandering through a nearby shopping district. The streets were decorated with twinkling lights, adding to the holiday spirit that seemed to be everywhere. He passed by a small boutique that caught his eye. It was quaint, tucked between a couple of cafes, its windows filled with elegant bags. As he stepped inside, the warm air wrapped around him, and the scent of fresh coffee from a nearby café wafted through the door. The store was quiet, peaceful, and had a soft glow from the lights hanging overhead.

Kita moved through the aisles slowly, inspecting the bags with a focused eye. There was a part of him that wanted to find the perfect one immediately, but he knew it was worth taking his time. The bags ranged from minimalist designs to bold, functional ones. He picked one up, tested the weight, and inspected the stitching. He finally settled on a sleek, sturdy leather bag with multiple compartments—large enough to fit all of her essentials, yet compact and stylish. It was just right. The leather was soft, and the color would suit her perfectly—elegant, yet not too flashy. He couldn’t help but smile as he imagined how she might react when she saw it.

On his way out, Kita passed by a small coffee shop, the warmth from inside making him pause. He decided to grab a coffee, sitting by the window, watching the busy streets outside as he reflected on his decision. The holidays always brought out a bit of sentimentality in him, but this time, his thoughts were full of Y/N. He wanted this gift to be meaningful—not just a token, but something that would show how much he admired her.

Back at the gym, Y/N had already started discussing plans for the big exchange the night before Christmas. The players were still buzzing with excitement about the gifts they would give and receive. The gym, usually echoing with the sound of volleyballs and sneakers, was now filled with talk of Christmas cheer and gift ideas. Y/N had started to decorate the space with a few simple holiday touches—greenery by the door, a small tree with lights twinkling in the corner, and a basket of wrapped chocolates by the bench. Even in the hustle and bustle of practice, the holiday spirit was palpable, and everyone was feeling the magic of the season.

As the players continued their drills, the anticipation for the gift exchange built with every passing day. Y/N couldn’t wait to see everyone’s reactions, but there was something special about the idea of giving gifts that reflected how much she appreciated them. The warmth of the gym and the holiday spirit only made her more excited to bring everyone together for the big reveal.

And so, with the days slipping away, the team continued their practice, the sounds of volleyballs bouncing, sneakers skidding, and laughter filling the air. Christmas was coming, and with it, the promise of new memories, laughter, and unforgettable gifts that would bring the Inarizaki team even closer together.

Day 6: Gifts in the Making

After the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, Y/N found Suna Rintarō in his usual spot by his locker, unhurriedly gathering his things. Students were buzzing around them, but Suna remained as calm and composed as ever, barely glancing at the crowds. She approached him with a purpose, though aware that she might have to make a convincing case to get him to come along.

“Hey, Suna,” she greeted, offering a small smile as she sidled up to his locker. “You busy after this?”

He looked up, meeting her gaze with a hint of curiosity but his expression otherwise unreadable. “Not really,” he replied, zipping up his bag. “Why?”

She took a quick breath before diving in. “I need some help with Secret Santa shopping… specifically for Aran. You have an eye for good stuff, so I thought you’d be the perfect person to bring along.”

Suna’s brows lifted ever so slightly at her suggestion, and he gave a small nod. “Fine. But don’t expect much commentary,” he said, swinging his bag over his shoulder.

“Perfect! That’s all I need,” she grinned, motioning for him to follow her out.

As they walked through the bustling city streets, they exchanged small bits of conversation—mainly Y/N talking about how she wanted her gift for Aran to be thoughtful and practical. Suna listened quietly, chiming in every now and then with a hum or a short response, more interested in taking in the scene around them than actively engaging in chatter. When they finally arrived at the mall, the holiday decorations were in full force: wreaths, lights, and a massive Christmas tree in the center of the atrium that seemed to reach up to the ceiling.

Y/N marveled at the decorations, nudging Suna with her elbow. “You gotta admit, it’s festive,” she said, smirking as she looked at his typically neutral expression.

He shrugged, giving the slightest of smirks. “It’s a bit much. But I guess it works,” he replied, following her as she led the way toward the tech stores.

They wandered into the first store, where rows of sleek gadgets and electronics lined the shelves. Y/N browsed the portable speakers, occasionally glancing at Suna, who was studying the products with a calm and discerning eye. After a few minutes, he picked up a speaker with a simple yet sturdy design, turning it over in his hands.

“This one’s pretty solid,” he commented, passing it to her. “Good sound quality, decent battery life, and compact enough that he could carry it around easily.”

Y/N held the speaker, feeling its weight and inspecting it. “Do you think he’d actually use it?”

Suna leaned back against one of the displays, his gaze level as he watched her consider the options. “If he’s into music like you say, he’ll appreciate it. And you can personalize it—load up some live recordings of his favorite concerts or something.”

She blinked, a smile spreading across her face. “That’s actually a really good idea. I didn’t think of that.”

“Yeah, well,” Suna shrugged, glancing away as if downplaying his own suggestion. “That’s why you brought me along.”

After comparing a few more options, she settled on the speaker he’d suggested, finally feeling confident in her choice. As they made their way to the checkout counter, Suna waited quietly beside her, occasionally glancing around the store. A small group of teenagers passed by, their arms full of holiday shopping bags, laughing and chatting. Suna looked on with mild interest before returning his focus to Y/N as she paid for the speaker.

As they stepped out of the store, they walked by a kiosk packed with holiday-themed wrapping paper, bows, and tags. Y/N paused, staring at the selection, her expression contemplative.

Suna noticed her hesitating and smirked. “This part’s on you. I’m here for the gift, not to play decorator.”

She laughed, nudging him lightly. “Noted. I’ll take it from here.”

Suna waited as she picked out a tasteful roll of wrapping paper with muted colors, steering away from the overly bright designs that didn’t quite suit her style. After paying, she held up her bag, feeling accomplished.

“Mission accomplished,” she said with a grin.

Suna gave her a short nod of approval as they made their way back through the bustling mall. The holiday energy buzzed around them, but there was a calm ease between the two of them as they headed out into the chilly evening, each silently content with how the day had unfolded.

Day 12: Putting It All Together

On Saturday morning, Kita headed out to town, intent on wrapping up the final details for his Secret Santa gift. He wanted to make sure the bag he chose for Y/N was perfect, and the added charm with her initials was a small but meaningful detail he hoped she’d appreciate. He found himself moving with careful purpose, his usual calm masking his excitement to see this gift idea come to life.

After visiting a boutique to confirm the bag’s quality, he stopped by a nearby shop to search for a keychain. As he browsed, he saw someone familiar in his peripheral vision—Y/N, standing in front of a colorful display. She was looking at a pair of vibrant roller skates with teal and yellow accents, her gaze fixed on them as if they held a world of memories. Smiling to himself, he walked over.

As Kita approached, he noticed Y/N’s attention was completely absorbed by the pair of roller skates on display. A small smile formed on his face as he stepped forward, intending to strike up a casual conversation.

“Didn’t know you were a skater,” he said, keeping his tone light.

She glanced over, clearly surprised but managing a smile. “Yeah… well, I used to be, I guess,” she replied, not offering more right away. Her eyes shifted back to the skates as if the memory behind them was something only for her.

Kita took a slow breath, recognizing her hesitance. Y/N was always open and friendly with the team, but rarely did she talk much about herself. He chose his words carefully. “Were you any good at it?”

Y/N’s smile grew a little wider as she laughed softly. “Maybe not at first. But I spent enough time on those skates that I got pretty good.” She paused, as if deciding whether to continue. “I used to skate down to the park on weekends. It was my thing.”

He nodded, giving her a moment. “Sounds like you had a good routine,” he said, understanding how much routines mattered in his own life.

She seemed to relax a little, glancing over at him. “Yeah, I did. I really loved it. But my old skates broke a while back, and I… just never got around to replacing them. Guess I figured I didn’t have the time.”

Kita took that in thoughtfully. “It’s tough to make time when there’s so much else going on. But it sounds like it mattered to you.” He didn’t push further, but his steady gaze invited her to continue if she wanted to.

She hesitated, then nodded, her expression softening. “Yeah. These days, though, it just seems like… too much to spend on something that’s just for fun, you know? Especially when I could put that money toward something more practical.” She shrugged, clearly uncomfortable discussing it. “I’d feel selfish asking my parents for something like this.”

Kita listened carefully, piecing together her reasons without judging them. Her dedication to the team and her responsibilities was something he respected immensely, but he couldn’t help but think she deserved something just for herself.

“They look like they’d suit you,” he said gently, looking at the skates. “You deserve things that bring you happiness, too.” He gave her a small smile, understanding it was a sensitive topic. “And if you ever want to get back into skating, I bet you’d pick it up again just like that.”

Y/N chuckled, the wistfulness in her expression easing. “Thanks, Kita. Maybe one day,” she replied, a hint of warmth in her voice.

The conversation lingered with him as they parted ways, and an idea started to form in his mind. He’d originally planned to keep things simple, but seeing Y/N’s reaction to those skates gave him a different perspective on what his gift could mean. For now, though, he kept the thought to himself, leaving her with a subtle but encouraging smile before they each went on their way.

Christmas Eve: The Gift Exchange

The morning was filled with bustling energy as Y/N’s family worked together to turn their home into a holiday haven. It was the day before Christmas, and despite the excitement of the neighborhood Christmas party, Y/N was focused on one thing: making sure the house was perfect for the special Secret Santa event with the boys. The living room needed to be transformed into a cozy, welcoming space for everyone to gather, and there was no time to waste.

Y/N’s mom was the first to start rearranging the furniture, moving the coffee table to one side of the room with a sense of practiced ease. "Let’s clear some space for all the gifts," she said, giving Y/N a warm smile. Her dad followed suit, slowly shifting the couch to create a better flow in the room. Y/N eagerly joined them, her excitement spilling over as she adjusted the throw pillows on the couch and added little touches of decoration. The Christmas tree stood proudly in the corner, draped with twinkling lights and vintage ornaments, but it needed a little more magic.

"We should add a few more candles to the mantle," Y/N suggested as she busied herself placing candles along the fireplace. The soft glow of the lights would create the perfect ambiance for the evening.

Her mom glanced over at her with a smile. "I love how much you’ve taken on this year. It feels like a real winter wonderland."

Y/N’s dad, who was busy hanging garlands above the windows, chimed in with a chuckle. "Your mom’s right, honey. This place is starting to look like something out of a Christmas movie." He paused for a moment, looking around the room with satisfaction. "You really went all out this year. The boys will love it."

Y/N couldn’t help but beam at their words, feeling a warmth in her chest. Despite all the holiday chaos, the effort was worth it. "I want tonight to be perfect. I want them to feel at home."

As her parents finished the final touches on the house, Y/N stood back and surveyed the room, feeling accomplished. The room was cozy with soft, plush blankets scattered across the couches, and the flickering lights set a serene, holiday atmosphere. A table had been cleared in the center, ready for all the gifts to be placed on it. There was a small area by the window where they would later enjoy snacks and drinks, but for now, the focus was on getting everything ready for the boys.

Her dad stepped back and gave Y/N a nod of approval. "I think it’s all ready. Let’s get those gifts out."

Y/N's mom smiled, heading to the kitchen to start preparing snacks and drinks for the evening. "Don’t forget to get those cookies out! We need something sweet for them."

"I’ll grab them," Y/N offered, bounding off to the kitchen. She retrieved the freshly baked sugar cookies her mom had made earlier, carrying the tray with a sense of pride. The warm, sweet smell filled the house, adding to the festive air.

As she returned to the living room, the first of the boys began arriving, and with their entrance, the room began to feel even more alive. Aran was the first to step through the door, carrying a bag of chips and a wrapped gift. "It smells amazing in here," he said, grinning as he surveyed the space. "You really did a great job, Y/N."

"Thanks, Aran!" she replied, her voice practically bubbling over with happiness. "I wanted to make sure tonight felt special for everyone."

With Aran came the other boys—Suna, carrying a box of homemade cookies, a small smile playing on his lips; Kita, with his usual calm demeanor, bringing a neatly wrapped gift and a quiet nod of approval; and Atsumu, always the life of the party, carrying a large bag filled with snacks and a grin that could light up the room.

"Did I bring enough snacks?" Atsumu asked loudly, dropping the bag on the table with a dramatic flair. "Because I could always grab more!"

Y/N laughed, her heart swelling at the sight of her friends. "You’re always over-prepared, Atsumu."

Her parents, who were now finished with their preparations, stepped into the living room to greet the boys. Y/N’s dad shook hands with each of them, offering a friendly smile. "It’s nice to see you all here," he said warmly. "Y/N’s been looking forward to this night for weeks."

Y/N’s mom followed with a gentle, welcoming smile. "I’m so glad you could join us. This is such a special time for Y/N, and we’re glad to have you all here."

The boys all murmured their thanks, the warmth in the room only growing stronger. Y/N’s heart fluttered with happiness—everything was coming together just as she had hoped.

"I’m so glad we’re all here," Y/N said as she bounced excitedly from one guest to the next. "This is going to be the best night!"

With everyone settling in, her parents busied themselves by gathering their coats and preparing to leave for the neighborhood Christmas party. "We’re heading over to the neighbors’ party in a bit," Y/N’s mom said, giving her a soft, knowing smile. "You’re welcome to join us, of course."

Y/N shook her head, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "I’m good, Mom. I want to stay here and enjoy tonight with everyone. This is my special event."

Her dad chuckled, ruffling her hair affectionately. "Alright, but don’t forget to take a few pictures for us before we go."

Y/N nodded enthusiastically. "I will! I promise!"

As her parents made their way to the door, Y/N handed them her camera. "Don’t forget to take some shots of you both at the party!" she added with a grin.

After her parents left, the atmosphere in the room shifted from the calm of her family’s presence to the lively chatter of her friends. The energy in the room felt light and happy, everyone eager to start the gift exchange.

When it was finally time to exchange gifts, the living room was buzzing with excitement. Laughter filled the air as each person carefully selected a gift to give.

Christmas lights twinkling softly against the walls as each person gave their present with care and excitement. Y/N felt a sense of joy watching everyone unwrap their gifts—each person’s reaction was more than she had hoped for. When it was Aran’s turn, he immediately began to unwrap his gift. Y/N had been nervously waiting for his reaction, hoping he would like it as much as she had thought he would. As the paper fell away, he held up the portable speaker she had carefully picked out for him. The soft, golden light from the fireplace illuminated the device in his hands, and for a moment, everything seemed to pause.

Aran’s face lit up with an easy grin, his eyes sparkling with delight. “You really know me, huh?” he chuckled, holding up the speaker for everyone to see. “This is perfect, Y/N. Thank you.”

Y/N couldn’t help the huge smile that spread across her face. "I'm so glad you like it!" Her heart soared at his response, a deep sense of happiness filling her chest. It felt incredible to see him genuinely pleased, especially since Aran was always so laid back and hard to surprise.

Finally, it was Y/N’s turn to open her gift, and the room grew quieter in anticipation. She smiled nervously, feeling the weight of Kita’s gift in her hands. Kita, ever composed, had remained calm, not giving away anything about his present. As she slowly began to unwrap it, the atmosphere shifted, the warmth of the room giving her a sense of comfort as she carefully peeled away the paper.

When the wrapping came off, her breath caught in her throat. Inside was a beautiful pair of roller skates—bright, sleek, and exactly the pair she had been eyeing for months. Her heart pounded in her chest, the surprise overwhelming her.

Her voice barely came out as she looked at Kita, her hands shaking slightly as she held up the skates. “Kita… you remembered…?”

Kita’s usual calm smile was present, but there was something in his eyes—something softer—that made Y/N’s chest tighten with emotion. “You’ve mentioned it a few times,” he said simply, his voice steady but kind. “I thought you deserved them.”

Tears pricked at the corners of Y/N’s eyes. The roller skates were a dream she thought she’d have to give up, especially after her old ones broke so suddenly. She hadn’t been able to replace them, too caught up in work and life to find the time or money. But now, here they were, right in front of her, a gift from someone who had truly listened.

“I don’t know what to say,” Y/N whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “Thank you… really.”

She could feel the warmth of the room around her—the glow of the Christmas lights, the laughter of her friends, the love that filled the air. And in that moment, she realized that it wasn’t just about the gifts. It was about the thoughtfulness behind them, the way each of them had made an effort to show how much they cared.

Kita, already back to his usual calm demeanor, stood up and gestured for everyone to gather. Y/N's eyes widened in confusion as the boys—Aran, Suna, and even Atsumu—moved toward her. Though they hadn’t been planning a joint gift, the boys had secretly coordinated. Y/N hadn’t realized, but they had been discussing her for days leading up to this moment, deciding as a group that they wanted to show her just how much they appreciated everything she did for them, and how much they admired her strength, kindness, and dedication.

As Aran reached into a large gift bag, he pulled out a framed photo, and Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. It was a picture of all the boys together, their goofy grins and relaxed poses showing off the bond they had built over time. The photo was perfectly framed, the black frame elegant yet simple, and a small, personalized note attached. Y/N’s hands shook slightly as she read the words:

“Thank you for everything you do. We’re better because of you.”

Her heart swelled, and she blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill once more. She had never expected this. The boys, though each of them a character in their own right, had come together with such thoughtfulness and unity. The sincerity in their gesture left her speechless.

Suna stepped forward next, giving her a small but meaningful smile. "We might not always say it," he began, his usually quiet voice softening the mood, "but we’re all really grateful for you, Y/N. For everything you do. It doesn't go unnoticed."

Atsumu, always the energetic one, added, “Yeah, we know you’ve got a lot on your plate, but you still manage to keep everything together. We’re better off with you around.”

Y/N’s heart felt like it was overflowing. She had never expected such an outpouring of appreciation from them, and yet here they were, showing her just how much she meant to them. Her eyes welled up with emotion as she finally managed to speak, her voice a bit shaky.

“You guys… I don’t even know what to say to this,” she whispered, overwhelmed by their kindness. “This means so much to me. You guys really… you really do care.”

Kita, who had remained relatively quiet, gave her a small nod. "Of course we do. You’re family, Y/N."

The room fell into a comfortable silence, save for the soft crackling of the fire and the gentle hum of the Christmas music in the background.

With a happy sigh, Y/N finally said, “Thank you, all of you. I really… I don’t deserve this, but it’s the best gift I could ever ask for.” The boys, each in their own way, smiled back at her, their eyes full of affection.

[thatlotuscookie]

(Haikyuu)Fukunaga x y/n where y/n is comedic too except y/n's humor is extremely dark and morbid?

✧･ﾟ: a/n : Here’s your Fukunaga x Reader drabble! I loved weaving in that perfect blend of dark humor and soft affection between you two. enjoy :3

✧ Title: ✧ Haunting Grounds ✧ ✧ Characters: Shōhei Fukunaga x Reader (Gender Neutral) ✧ Genre: Fluff, Humor, Romance ✧ Rating: T ✧ Summary: Self explanatory i guess? Y/N and their dark humor xd ✧ Content Tags: Dark humor, light romance, banter, comfort, morbidish jokes, nothing terrible ✧ WC: 490 words // 2.6k chars

You and Fukunaga were sitting outside a small coffee shop, people-watching as they strolled by. It was late in the afternoon, and the sun cast long shadows over the street. You both had a habit of slipping into these comfortable silences, but today, you felt the need to break it—with a little taste of your signature humor.

“So, when I die, I’ve already decided I want to donate my body to one of those mystery shows. Maybe get someone to dress up like Sherlock Holmes, make it all dramatic.” You took a sip of your coffee, nonchalant, as if discussing the weather. “Think of it as my final contribution to entertainment.”

Fukunaga choked on his drink, eyes widening. “That’s… a unique final request,” he managed after a moment, still blinking in shock.

“Yeah, gotta keep things interesting, right?” You shrugged, smirking slightly. “I mean, ‘cause if I just disappear, who’s gonna care? At least this way, people have a reason to look for me. Like a real-life game of Clue.”

He looked at you, a mixture of amusement and concern etched into his face. “You… actually think about that?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah,” you answered, completely deadpan. “I’ve already planned the setup and everything. Leave a cryptic note behind—‘I’m off to haunt someone.’ Just to keep it spicy.” You tapped your fingers on your coffee cup, your gaze a little distant. “Maybe leave a few clues in case anyone decides they actually want to find me.”

Fukunaga let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “I don’t know whether to be impressed or worried.”

You grinned, leaning into the joke. “Just promise if it happens, you’ll keep a straight face at the funeral. Gotta keep the mystery alive, right?”

He rolled his eyes but laughed, his voice softening as he looked at you. “Alright, but I’m serious—you’re not actually planning to vanish, are you?”

You gave him a sly smile, trying to brush it off with humor but sensing his genuine concern. “Nah, don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere yet.” Then, after a beat, you added with a dark chuckle, “But if I do, maybe I’ll leave you some hints. Maybe you’ll be the only one who can ‘find the body.’”

For a moment, Fukunaga went quiet, his usual playful demeanor softened with something more serious. Then, with a small smile, he nudged your shoulder. “Well, just know that… I wouldn’t need clues. I’d look for you anyway. Even if I had to deal with a hundred fake haunted houses.”

The weight of his words settled over you, and you felt the faintest blush touch your cheeks, quickly masking it with another smirk. “That’s a bit dramatic,” you teased.

“Can’t have you haunting me,” he said with a soft grin. “Guess I’d have to deal with it.”

[keiscorner]

2:53 am

"kei." no response. you know tsukishima has to get up early for work, but the window across from your bed is open, allowing the night breeze to creep in and sting your face. you could get up yourself, but that's what husbands are for, right?

you twist around, trying to wiggle out of your husband's grasp so you can take a better look at his sleeping face. he has an arm wrapped firmly around your waist, the other supporting your neck to, in his words, 'protect his ears from your constant complaints about your sore neck in the morning'.

"honey?" you poke his cheek, smiling to yourself when he grunts in response. tsukishima has always been a light sleeper. you lay in silence for a few seconds before he finally lets out a sigh, opening his eyes to look at you.

"what do you want?"

you muster up your biggest doe eyes, knowing that he hates getting out of bed just as much as you do. "close the window for me?"

"no. you do it."

you sigh dramatically, gesturing at his arms wrapped firmly around you. "i would love to, but someone is holding me hostage, so i think you're going to have to do it."

tsukishima rolls his eyes, untangling his arms from your body. "problem solved." he holds back a smile when you frown and pull the blankets away from him, turning your back towards him. you're so cute. tsukishima would do anything you ask of him without hesitation, but he can't help but tease you a bit first. he'll never get tired of your reactions, and he loves that he can be a little snarky with you.

you sigh again, this time louder and more pointed, pretending to shiver just to show your husband how cold you really are, and how cruel he is for not helping. "if only someone could hold me right now...", you trailed off.

"ok, do you want me to help you or not?" he finally gives in, getting up to reach for his glasses. you win, as usual. you turn back to face him again with a smile as bright as sunshine, and despite all of the years you've been together, his heart still stops for a second. wow. okay, maybe he is obsessed with you, but he can't help it. you've clearly worked your magic on him, considering the fact that he's getting out of the bed for you when he has to be awake in a few hours. he goes to close the windows with a firm click, walking back to his side of bed.

"kei...since you're already up...", he looks back to see your guilty smile, an empty mug in your hands. "please? last thing, i swear." he give you a look that reads, "you're lucky i love you." (you know you're the luckiest person in the world.)

he takes your mug and you hear his quiet footsteps making their way to the kitchen. he comes back, handing you a mug full of warm water. once you take a sip, he takes the mug from you again, placing it on your nightstand.

"i poisoned that," he quips, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before finally lying down and snaking his arms around your waist, pulling you in closer to him. the only reason he hates getting out of bed is that he has to let go of you, but he doesn't need to say that. he's sure you already know.

[satoruxx]

you fiddle with your nails as you walk home at tooru's side, the sounds of mattsun, makki, and iwa bickering further up ahead cutting through the empty streets. you’re uncharacteristically nervous, because god knows you’ve never done something like this before—but you steel yourself because it’s worth it for him.

your feelings for oikawa tooru are all consuming—strong and deep and intense. they’ve been brewing for well over two years now, nourished by the increased amount of time you’ve spent with him. they overwhelm you, washing over your being with an intensity you’ve never felt before, and they drive you to stick by his side for as long as you can—desperate and aching for the boy who puts the stars in your sky.

you know that timing is important because tooru is nothing if not driven—singularly focused on the sport that gives him the air he needs to breathe. so you wait until well after his match with karasuno, giving your all to support him and the rest of the team because volleyball has become important to you after spending so much time with them. you give it time, wait until after the team has taken the time to lament over their missed chance, and after all the third years are ready to move on to the next phase of their lives, before you finally decide to spill your guts to him.

tooru stares ahead as he’s walking, pensive and unsmiling, and you’re dying to know what’s going on in his head. his eyes are bright, a contrast to his expression, and there’s a resolute glint in his irises that has you feeling oddly shaken. when you reach his house, the rest of the group waves back at him before continuing on, and you realize this is your chance.

so, dangerously, you put your heart on the line.

you tell him everything you've ever thought about him—how you admire his drive and his passion, how you have looked up to him for years and years. how you have never felt so deeply for someone before knowing him. it comes out in a rushed ramble of words, all those nights of practicing in the mirror doing nothing for you in the actual moment. you stumble a few times, your face getting warmer with every word, and yet as each sentence falls forth you feel a weight lift from your shoulders—the flesh of your lungs clatter against your ribs, anxious and eager.

tooru inhales, gaze darting between your eyes and then flitting downwards. even in the dark of the night, you can see the pinkish hue crawling up his neck, can see the way he fidgets with his own fingers. he stares at you, lips parted as a wide array of emotions flit over his handsome features—they finally settle into a strange combination of apologetic and resigned.

and then he tells you no.

he tells you that volleyball will always take precedence, that he has already mapped out his future, which is too far away from you. he tells you about argentina and how his mind is made up. he tells you that he's flattered, that he's glad you're friends but that's all he can do right now.

“i'm sorry,” he says with a grimace. he studiously avoids looking at you, but you can't stop staring at him—your stomach sinks as he turns to head inside.

it takes you months to muster up the courage to tell him. it takes him two minutes to say no to you.

the rejection stings in a way that is unfamiliar, and you take a shaky breath as you walk down the street to catch up with the others.

the humiliation makes itself known in the form of a painful lump in your throat—unmoving and heavy. when you glance up you see that the third years have hung back, waiting for you. makki is wearing a knowing grin, but it falters when he sees your expression. mattsun, ever observant, seems to immediately understand, and he wordlessly slings an arm over your shoulder.

all you can do is awkwardly chuckle, knowing that it sounds weak and throaty as you shake your head. “i feel stupid,” you admit, voice wobbling as heat burns through your skin—unpleasant and unwelcome.

“you're not stupid,” makki mutters, hands shoved deep in his pockets as his lips slant regretfully. you stare at the ground, nodding slowly under the weight of mattsun's arm. your lungs ache, and you know that if you open your mouth, you will lose it entirely. so all you can manage to do is look up at iwa with glassy eyes and trembling lips and a rueful smile that probably makes you look as pathetic as you feel.

you don't notice the way his fists are clenched at his sides, nails digging indents into his palms. he grits his teeth, gaze flitting to oikawa's house in the background, but he doesn't say anything.

none of them speak as they walk you home, and you try your best to keep the sniffles to a minimum, too embarrassed to look at them.

you've never felt pain like this before, and it's hard to get over it because everything reminds you of tooru. it's like someone has taken a knife and carved into your ribcage, grasping your heart before taking it out crushing it between bloodied fingers. but even despite the gaping hole in your chest you know that there are expectations to be met, things to be done.

that's the strange thing about your silly unrequited love—it hurts and hurts and hurts some more until it stops one day before you can realize it. even though your chest is still bleeding you go on with life—you go to university, you get a job, you pay bills. you get up in the morning and brush your hair and drink water and tie your shoes until the wound closes itself up. you start smiling a little wider and laughing a little freer until oikawa tooru is nothing more than an old name.

and of course there are instances where you are reminded of him and what could've been, whether it's seeing milk bread in a supermarket or passing by children hitting a volleyball over a net out in the sun. you know very well that your friends are occasionally still in contact with their old captain, not that this bothers you. after all, mattsun, makki, and iwa were very careful not to bring him up around you, which you're grateful for. so even hearing the name in passing becomes easier.

it is difficult until it isn't anymore.

you've all but forgotten him now, after years and years and years—nothing more than a distant memory.

so imagine the sinking feeling of dread pooling in your stomach when you walk into the restaurant on makki's birthday and see oikawa tooru sitting at the bar, drink in hand. his eyes are alight as he laughs at whatever conversation he's joined, dark hair falling into his eyes messily.

one step forward, ten steps back.

for a second you can't help but stare, breath stolen from your lungs because it feels like the knife is back and twisting itself into your flesh all over again. there is a panic rising in your throat, suffocating and overwhelming and jarring.

tooru lifts his glass to his lips, hiding his grin as his gaze lazily travels over the expanse of the room.

another surge of panic. the familiar sting of humiliation.

he pauses as he's about to take a sip, brown eyes widening when they land on you, and you see the sharp inhale he takes. his stare doesn't waver, too consumed by shock to look away.

and yet that's all you can do—tear your eyes away because you're different now and it's long gone and you know there is no point in going down that rabbit hole again.

it was a lifetime ago—it's done now.

but you will never know how long tooru thought of you after that night back in high school. you will never know that he felt sick to his stomach when he saw the way your face fell at his rejection. you will never know that he bit his tongue so hard it bled as he watched you walk away from him. you will never know that he spent countless nights in argentina wondering what you were up to and how you were. you will never know that sacrificing you for his beloved sport was the hardest thing he's ever done.

so imagine the sinking feeling of dread tooru feels when he sees the way your eyes light up as you find your way over to iwa's side.

@teddybeartoji this is for you mickey ily hehehehehe

[iiwaijime]

MY WIFE !! — A. MIYA

SAKUSA VER. || USHIJIMA VER.

IWAIZUMI VER. || AKAASHI VER.

cw; fem reader, swearing, cute cute fluff, pet names ewww, not proofread

wc; 476

in which he calls you his wife.

you're still half asleep when atsumu climbs into bed, kicking the blanket away to nestle into your side. shit. you'd been planning to watch his latest interview live, but apparently you'd failed to stay awake until then. he slides one hand under your loose shirt — his shirt, come to think of it — to hold your waist, and the other comes up to cradle your face. "missed ya, sweets."

"hey," you murmur, letting him angle your head and sponge kisses all over your face. your phone buzzes, but you ignore it in favour of your boyfriend and his addictive attention.

he kisses you again, this time with a smile. "hey, angel."

"sorry, didn't get to watch the interview." one of your hands tangles into his hair as he presses his lips to yours, brief and gentle, before pulling back.

"good, don't then."

you open your eyes. "baby, what?"

"nothing, nothing. just... don't."

your phone vibrates again insistently, and then it clicks. "'tsumu, what'd you do?"

you're reaching over to your phone before he can stop you, unlocking it only to be greeted by at least four hundred notifications from friends, family, and even some people you don't know.

Y/N, YOU'RE MARRIED? [your best friend]

WHYD TSUMU CALL YOU HIS WIFE ON LIVE TV [osamu]

DID I MISS A WEDDING I DIDN'T RIGHT [hinata]

you turn to him. "and what do you have to say about all this?"

despite your calm demeanour, your heart is trying to claw its way out of your chest, and your plans are sweating more than they ever have before. you look down at atsumu, who now has his arms around your middle and his head on your chest. he pouts at you, best puppy eyes equipped. "lemme explain! it was a mistake, cus i was so excited to propose t'ya that i forgot we weren't married! so—"

a strangled little gasp escapes from your throat. the two of you have talked about this before, but you didn't expect that he'd even think of asking this fast. yes, yes, yes, your heart sings. that's when you notice the scandalised expression on atsumu's face as he bolts upright.

"shit, you weren't supposed to hear that," he says. "i'm sorry, i really—"

you cut him off with a kiss, noticing the way he relaxes visibly as it progresses, and when you finally pull away, he blinks at you with a dopey grin — all of the tension from before has disappeared.

"atsumu."

"yeah?"

"i don't care how or when you propose to me, i'll always say yes."

"shit, babe," he sniffles. "don't say that!"

"i'm not joking," you tell him gently. it's a hint, a yes if he wants to take it. "really."

"then will you?"

"will i what?"

"you know."

"oh my god, ask me properly the second time, at least!"

so he does.

a multi part fic series!! taglist is open. updates will be slow!! uhhh comment who u wanna see in the series and i might juuuust yk!! i hate atsumu he plagues my brain ew

tags!! @smiithys

[jello-chennie]

✧ tough guy iwaizumi hajime who ends up falling for his best friend’s cute little sister

✧ genre/tw fluff ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ (nsfw at the end ⚠︎)

✧ word count 857

all three of you grow up together, with you being two years younger than tooru. oikawa is always doting on you, treating you like a doll. despite the very little age gap, no matter how old you get, he’s always referring to you as his baby sister. oikawa spoils you rotten. one look from those big brown eyes you both share, but look a lot cuter on you for some reason, and oikawa can’t help but to give you whatever you ask for.

in the beginning, iwaizumi is almost like your other, more responsible big brother when things go wrong. you’re always trying to tag along with your older brother and his friend, which is a recipe for disaster sometimes.

when you inevitably take a spill, and bump your knees, tooru is rolling on the ground, shouting out against the heavens for forsaking you. how could the higher powers let you just fall to the ground like that?? but iwaizumi is is silently wiping off the pebbles from your knee with his little hands, blowing cool air to help assuage your pain. without a word, he carries you back home.

eventually you learn to stop tagging along so much. you can only handle so much pain and embarrassment. other than those moments, iwaizumi and you never really spend that much time together. for the rest of your childhood, you’re more acquaintances than anything else.

but at some point, after oikawa desperately begs you to join the boys volleyball team as it’s manager (“its the only time we’ll be together in high school, you wouldn’t ruthlessly deny your precious and loving and dashing and charming big brother this chance, would you???”), iwaizumi begins to notice you again. but this time, you’re a lot more grown up than you were before. seems like good looks run in the family.

but he’s not the only one that notices. in the same sense that oikawa seems to have the student body under his spell, it seems you do as well, and without even trying.

you’ve had a sheltered childhood that you mostly spent in doors, so you’re shyer than most people. and your brother enables you with his doting behaviour.

iwaizumi finds himself frequently getting jealous at the basket of love letters and confectionery that you have to empty out of your locker and lug home every night. iwaizumi finds that his hands begin to ache after a while bc he clenches them so hard whenever he sees another person confessing to you. and he waits with baited breath to see their disappointed faces as they walk away—an indication that you turned them down again in the way that you always shyly do; an indication that he might still have a chance, yet.

in an effort to put the moves on you, iwaizumi is constantly performing little acts of service for you. he goes out with you to the fountains to refill the water bottles so that you have some company, and so that you won’t have to carry anything heavy—that should be his job, after all. in the most cliche move ever, when an errant ball goes flying right in your direction, iwaizumi coolly catches it with one hand before it can bounce off of your head, making sure to ask you if you’re okay after. he stays behind to help you sweep the floors after practice, striking up a conversation with you. when oikawa stays behind to practice his spikes, iwaizumi walks alone with you home, making sure to keep you away from the side of the sidewalk that’s closest to the road. iwa also makes sure to put your back against the wall of the train while standing in front of you, keeping you safe from any wandering hands.

eventually, he even starts buying your favourite milk drink from the vending machine, and brings it to you while he visits your classroom, the place where you normally eat your lunch. he sits, and eats with you (to which oikawa complains vehemently bc “why would you just sit in a different spot than we normally do without telling me?? you left me all alone!!")

iwaizumi’s actions don’t go unnoticed. you start to fall for it.

when you two eventually start to date, oikawa is whining and complaining that you two are both stealing each other away from him (there’s also relentless teasing on oikawa’s end bc “iwa-chan, isn’t funny that you fell in love with someone that looks just like me?? are you secretly gay and actually just in love with me :3 ??”)

but what’s really the kick in the back for oikawa is the moment he runs up to his precious little sister’s room to check and see what she wants for dinner. but upon opening the door, he finds both his best friend (who, of which, he didn’t even know was over their place at the moment) on top of his “adorable baby sister who can do absolutely no wrong”; the two of them are naked from the waist down, in the throes of passion.

he falls to his knees, asking god to strike him dead, right then and there.

[koishiro]

Dating Kei Tsukishima pt.2 <3

=͟͟͞͞ ⌧ : men with glasses, men with glasses, men with glasses-

[clawsdevour]

overbearing stim

wc: 0.3k content warning: post-timeskip, established relationship, ushijima x reader, handjob, oral m!receiving, slight overstim, not proofread

༉‧₊˚ 𐚁.

wakatoshi ushijima, the man that would let you overstimulate him without even knowing it.

his big veiny hands increasing his grip on the fluffy pillow laid behind his head, creating even bigger wrinkles to be ironed out. his muscular thighs trembling as he tenses up.

the slick and wet sounds your hands create the more you stroke up and down on his hot rod with a fiery red tip, just ready to explode its milky essence all over you at any waking minute.

his thick furrowed brows twitch with every delicate touch your fingertips' pressure implies. gently caressing the tall vein that was sculpted upon his cock, almost climaxing with your bare touch oiled up with his precum before you put a thumb over his throbbing tip.

"not yet toshi.." you batted your lashes at him with a subtle smile plastered on your face.

his flustered warm face twitches as he continues to hold back his desirable urges. pressing his thin lips together as he attempts to suppress the stimulation he receives.

his rippling torso's heaving up and down rapidly, heavy chest expanding and shrinking along with it. his toned legs started to press down into the plush sheets due to the overbearing pleasure.

beads of sweat pile up on his forehead while his legs twitch beneath you. rubbing his cock up and down at a faster pace made him yelp in surprise as he continued to hold himself down to the bed.

"are you gonna do it?" you seductively purred, his dazed eyes focusing on you.

"yes.." his husky voice groaned out.

"d'it in my mouth," lowering your head down to his girth, keeping your eyes still on his lewd expression.

lips parted and suctioned onto his wet length that dripped with precum, you instantly dive down onto his entire cock which made him whip his head back in satisfaction.

unloading his delayed reaction inside your hot plush mouth, coating the insides with his white gooey fluids. fully just pumping and filling your mouth to the brim as you gulp it all down. his fingers locked onto your hair while his body started to unwind with deep breaths continued to be exchanged.

masterlist here

[jadeoru]

SMUDGED LIPSTICK MASTERLIST!

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: sakusa kiyoomi 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: rockstar!yn

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after a huge argument, they never spoke to each other again. it hurt, and she never really moved on, but that was years ago. they have careers to focus on now. him: a professional volleyball player, and her: the frontwoman of an alternative-rock band. as fate would have it, they meet again after years when he shows up at the bar that her band were performing in. but it's fine, right? she's moved on, right?

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: MINORS DNI, best friends to enemies to lovers!!!, you HATE him at the beginning, cursing, alcohol, drinking, smoking the #zaza, sexual jokes, implied sex but no actual smut, kissing, making out, romance stuff, yn is NOT perfect, probably spelling/grammar mistakes, probably out of character

yn's playlist -- sakusa's playlist -- yn style guide

𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬: yn and the virgins + ball fondlers

1: boy nipples

2: chivalry ✎

3: hot mysterious girl energy

4: a pattern ✎

5: no brainer

6: grow up

7: silent treatment ✎

8: reality check

9: realization

10: athlete privilege

11: fresh start ✎

12: the alpha

13: so casual ✎

14: feelings

15: cherry red ✎

16: liar

17: rumours

18: unknown number

19: a plan

20: dissipating fear ✎

bonus:

coming soon!

[itsmiyamore]

— drunk (in the front of your car)

"With you I’m drunk in the back of the car" — Cruel Summer, Taylor Swift Part of the drunk (on you) miniseries

a/n: posting in celebration of The Dumpster Battle movie filling me up with life again and also my birthday coming up this week! Updated taglist form here <3

Sakusa Kiyoomi regrets every decision he's made that has led him up to this point.

He knew better than to get wasted at his team’s night out—he always was a lightweight; so how was he here now, trying to not put too much weight against you as you try to walk him to your car?

Maybe it's the alcohol hitting his system that's making him lightheaded, or maybe it's the scent of your shampoo. He gets the urge to bury his face in the crook of your neck and maybe stay there forever. Yeah, that would be nice, he thinks.

Then he gets the urge to throw up, and the next thing he feels is your warm hand rubbing his back as he pukes into a trash can. He hates the bitter taste it leaves in his mouth, scrunching up his face, momentarily forgetting the situation he’s in.

"Hey, Sakusa," you gently say, startling Sakusa back into his senses. His skin tingles where your hand still rests. "Sakusa?"

He looks up at you, and he's suddenly hyper-aware of how he probably looks like absolute dogshit right now. He doesn't really care though.

(He does.)

He must've murmured a response because you smile at him—god, you have absolutely no right to be doing this to him—and you say, "Are you feeling better?"

Keep talking, he wants to tell you. You're beautiful. I think I'm in love with you. But he just mutters, "Yeah I'm good."

He goes red when he stumbles a bit, the soft giggle that slips past your lips only deepening the shade. You help him into your car, then you lean over him and god, Sakusa thinks, he wants to kiss you so badly.

You're only buckling his seatbelt, but you’re too close and it’s too much, and then you're looking up at him and saying something, but he can't hear you over the thundering of his heart. He wonders if you can hear it; surely you can, because he's shaking as he looks into your concerned eyes. He glances down and sees your tongue quickly swipe over your bottom lip and that's it, he thinks.

You pull away before he can muster the courage to lean in.

His headache is back when the radio comes on full blast as you start the car, followed by your flustered apology. He tries not to stare out the window at the bright city lights, but it's hard when on his other side is the one person he can't handle being alone with. 

Not sober, at least.

(Nor drunk.)

At the next red light, you turn, reaching for something in the back. You twist back to the front, handing Sakusa a water bottle. He glances at it skeptically and you grin.

"It’s unopened, I just bought the pack earlier today."

He nods, thanking you, and as the car starts moving, you glance at him again, still grinning as your eyes meet.

He almost chokes on his water.

He doesn't even notice when the rain starts. Absent-mindedly, he watches a drop of water trickle down the window, then another, and another. Before long, the rain makes a thick gray curtain over the city; a loud crack of thunder startles Sakusa out of his reverie.

That, and the soft string of curses that slip out of your mouth.

He watches you as you mutter to yourself, not registering the fact that the turns you're making aren't the way to his apartment. You park somewhere, and you smile sheepishly at him, saying, "Hey, since it's raining pretty heavily right now, I hope you don't mind, but I brought you to my place. It was a lot closer."

And maybe it's the thoughts from earlier still swimming in Sakusa's mind, or maybe it's the way he can't say no to you that he somehow manages to say, "I'll be okay for the night."

(No he won’t.)

[dreamesamu]

(literally) boyfriend miya atsumu

genre: fluff, headcanon, suggestive (if u squint)

author's note: i think this is canon. and also the reader is f!reader.

bf!miya atsumu spoils you rotten; he treats you like a princess without you even asking. if his girl wanted something, she got it. you once said that you would like to try the new pastry sold at your favourite cake shop, and the next morning, you wake up and see about ten flavours of it in a huge box with flowers and a handwritten card next to it. “my angel deserves everything in the world.”

bf!miya atsumu is the type to run to you and kiss you on your lips as a way to celebrate after the referee has declared his team winning. “baby, did you see me spike at that one moment? quite impressive, huh?” then disappear from the court with his arm placed at your waist.

bf!miya atsumu is possessive. he’d let you wear his jersey at a game to claim what’s his, and as a friendly reminder that you are his girlfriend that not everybody can touch just one strand of your hair. “all eyes on me, pretty girl. let me remind you again who you are here for.”

bf!miya atsumu loves teasing you and loves the way your face turns red. he either kisses you after making a bad joke or says something to make you easily flustered. “angel, are you jealous?” and before you could burst your irritation out, he had already kissed your face (or lips).

bf!miya atsumu is also a simp to his gf. not only you are down bad for him, but he falls in love all over again with you, who just merely does things your way. especially the days you exposed your skin a little too much by wearing tank tops or his jersey without... ahem- your underwear... (no cap) comfortably at home. (you just do that purposely because you know what will happen next.)

© 2024 dreamesamu. all rights reserved.

[httpshujii]

BIG BOYS !

Your fave x f!reader

ᯓ Big boyfriend headcanons.

Big!boyfriends that love carrying you and would find any excuse to carry you. You got tired of your heels, just take them off and let him carry you, you're tired of walking around the mall and shopping for hours, he'll carry both you and your shopping bags.

"We're not even out of the house yet-"

"Just let me love you."

Proceeds to carry you all the way to his car that's parked outside.

Big!boyfriends that love holding your hand just to blush and fawn at how small you are. He just can't wrap his mind around the massive size difference between you two. Always takes precautions when handling you, he fears hurting you and will gladly get down on his hands and knees to beg for your forgiveness, you're confused every time he does that.

"Wha…what're you doing?"

"Forgive me, my love, for I have handled you with carelessness."

"You held my hand-"

"And I squeezed your hand a little too tight, please step on me and punish me."

Blinks.

Big!boyfriends that love treating you like a princess and even goes as far to speak and treat you as if you really are one.

"My princess, you look so beautiful."

Loves watching you blush and get flustered when he compliments you, always makes sure to use THAT tone when doing so as well.

Wraps his arms around your waist and just breathes in your perfume while swaying from side to side.

"You're so gorgeous, so perfect for me."

Always compliments his compliments by placing a gentle kiss to your neck, chuckles when your knees buckle at such simple words and actions.

Big!boyfriends that love resting on your belly when he's feeling needy, his large hands kneading your sides and thighs and every inch of you.

Despite his heavy weight, you relish in how cute he looks, knowing full well that you're the only one that gets to see him like this.

Big!boyfriends that take such good care of you when you're on your period. If you stain the sheets, he's quick to get up and change them. If you start cramping, he prepares you a heat pad even though his hand is much more effective than a too hot heat pad. If you're craving anything, he's running to the supermarket or tapping a few buttons on his phone and boom, your comfort food from your favorite restaurant is on the way.

He prepares you a bath and feeds you some cut fruit as you just focus on relaxing, afterwards he'll rub your body with your favorite lotion and massage your stiff shoulders.

He's especially careful with his cologne during your time of the month as well, it's when your senses are heightened and scents can sometimes be too much for you, he makes sure to ask you which one to wear and sometimes he leaves with one of your herbal perfumes sprayed on him, just in case you don't feel like smelling his options.

Big!boyfriends that can't leave the house without kissing you "good morning," "thank you for the breakfast," and "good bye."

Sometimes if you're feeling too tired to wake up, he gives you two good bye kisses, one on your cheek and another on your lips.

Before he comes home, he always asks you if you need anything from outside.

When he reaches home, he calls out for you and when he sees you, he falls in love with you all over again.

The way you basically float towards him, standing up on your little toes to kiss him, whispering a "welcome back" against his lips.

You tell him dinner would be ready when he comes back from freshening up, whether you're good at cooking or not, he eats your food with such enthusiasm.

"This is really good, baby."

"Really? I tried something new, please feel free to criticize it."

"Never, I love it so much."

He could get good poisoning even and proceed to tell you that you're an amazing cook.

Big!boyfriends that love hearing you talk about your hyperfixations, would secretly despise your fictional boyfriends but will buy you anything related to them.

Especially plushies, he took you to Build - A - Bear on your first date and both of you made plushies for the other based off of their personality.

If he finds something cute that he thinks you'll go feral over, he'll grab it and show it to you so casually as if he didn't just make you fan girl over him more.

"I'm giving you my first born as thanks."

"Oh?"

Big!boyfriends that wear rings and jewelry so you can fidget with them when you're bored. Even though you could be wearing your own jewelry, he always grabs your hands and guides them to his.

He needs to feel you against his skin, his constant fear of losing you in any way, shape, or form only gets heightened when you're outside the comfort of your own home.

Big!boyfriends that can't wait to put a ring on your finger, a large, shiny gem shimmering for the world to see as he holds your hand and walks with you with an aura that screams "yeah that's right, she's mine and none of you can have her."

Big!boyfriends that can't wait to make you a mom, seeing little you's running around.

He often fantasizes on how life would be when you build a little family. Whether it be during the day at work or in the middle of the night when you're fast asleep on his chest.

Big!boyfriends that will burn the world for you and your family because nothing else matters for them.

just a lil smth before i continue working on my series :>

[lunamochii]

cw ; timeskip!suna rintaro x f!reader, smut.

Rintaro texted you to come at the lockers area saying that he needs help on bringing some of his things to the car. So you did but this little fucker got another idea with him.

It has become his habit to have a quickie with you after his match reasoning that it helps him get rid of all the stress he got on the court. It's either at his car or at the locker room.

"Enough with the teasing and finish already!"

"Geez, why so eager? Miss my cock so much?"

You squeeze hard on his arm as you drag out a long gutteral moan as he thrust his whole cock back in. Just when you thought that his done with his antics, he pulled his cock out again leaving the tip only.

Rintaro chuckles seeing your teary eyes glaring at him

"Enough teasing, more fucking bro!"

His eyebrows instantly met hearing on what you just called him, it was one time and he never thought that you'd use it against him. He effortlessly lift both of your legs up and holy fuck, his pace got a lot more faster and you couldn't help but smirk in victory

"I'm going to wipe that arrogant smile of yours!"

"Fucking- try hng it!"

Rintaro push your legs more and you clawed at his back as he fuck you faster and harder, lewd squelching noise, wet skins slapping at each other and when he felt his going to cum. He pulled out and before you can protest he slam his cock back in, down to the deepest part of you and painted your insides with his thick white cum.

"Fuck fuck fuck"

"Riiiin!"

He captured your lips and his kisses are sloppy, saliva dripping at the both side of your lips as he keeps humping you. Trying to keep his cum inside you.

"Call me 'bro' at the middle of our fucking and you'll end up breathless and aching."

He whispered at your ear, you don't promise him that you won't because a Rintaro who is annoyed or mad fucks you a lot more better.

special mention @miya-rin agh idk why it went from me wanting to keep it fluff to smut😭 but hope you like it🤞🏻

[keiscorner]

thinking about... boyfriend!haikyuu things

haikyuu boys as stupid cute things my boyfriend does for me

✧ feat. tsuikshima, oikawa, bokuto, kenma!

warnings: pure fluff and nothing else, g/n reader!

a/n: my warmup into writing again! it's been a few years so i'm very rusty T-T

✧ tsukishima — has always had a good memory. he remembers the things you like and thousands of tiktoks you send him every day, and will plan accordingly for your next date. if you tell him you like strawberries? he will take you strawberry picking the next weekend. he likes the look on your face when you realize he remembered and how excited you are. of course, if you make a big deal out of it, he'll just shrug it off. "do you want to go or not?" (the sassy man apocalypse started with him) he thinks, that's just what good boyfriends should do of course. it's nothing to write home about.

✧ oikawa — gets into a "i love you", "i love you more", "i love you the most" argument with you every time you say i love you. he knows he loves you the most, because how could he not? you understand him. however, you ultimately gaslight/confuse him into saying that you love him the most. he pouts. (he requires a kiss to "mend his broken heart after being manipulated by the love of his life.") tooru oikawa invented the term drama queen. you are the sappiest couple alive and you love every second of it, congrats! it makes the team sick to their stomachs.

✧ bokuto — tries to buy you everything you look at for more than a second. when you gasp at your phone or say something like "i want this", he will pounce on you to look at your phone. he just wants to spoil you! he thinks that you're so perfect for him, so obviously that you should get anything you could ever want. you have to remind him that you're both still young and don't have infinite amounts of money. but like the cutie he is, he will show up at your door the next day with a haphazardly wrapped present. (he did his best. and his best was amazing.) what's inside you ask? nothing other than the thing you told him about yesterday!

✧ kenma — gets excited to play when you decide to game with him, since you don't get on very often. he's logged on and already warmed up half an hour ahead of time so he can play his best. he obviously has to impress you, no matter how long the two of you have been dating. if he sees someone shit talking you in game, he'll pull out profanities you've never even heard of. (unrelated i think he loves giving you forehead kisses. he's just that kind of guy. SO PERFECT MWAHAHA) he loves spending time with you in any way possible, but this is one of his favorites.

[satorisoup]

⌗ 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘, 𝐁𝐎 ! ⁝ ( ᰔ )

— timeskip! koutaro bokuto

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ﾉ fluff. one mention of pregnancy (facepalm). bokuto seems to be a bit forgetful.

𝐖𝐂 ﾉ 833

the blinking bedside lamp reads 7:00am, september 20th. it’s your husbands birthday today, and you’re sure he’d love to sleep in after all of the training he’s been doing. you snuggle closer into the radiant heat beside you, enjoying the morning silence before the events of today, until you’re not.

you’re abruptly interrupted by none other than your husbands loud, rather obnoxious alarm. it dings and shouts, and bokuto moves to slide out of bed with a groan.

perhaps he’s just going to the bathroom.

you wait patiently for his return, until about 15 minutes go by and your hair is swept away from your forehead, a pair of lips replacing it.

“… kou ? ”

bokuto seems almost upset with himself that he had woken you. unbeknownst to him, you had already been awake, lying down in confusion.

“ crap— i’m sorry baby. im off to practice, kay ? ”

your eyes shoot open at that, only for your worries to be answered, bokuto was indeed dressed in his practice uniform, gym bag swung over his shoulder.

“ what ? kou— you don’t have practice. they canceled it for today, didn’t you know ? ”

he reels back, almost distraught with the pout that adorns his face.

“ huh ? why would they cancel practice ?! i was supposed to help shoyo learn my cross-shots ! ”

“ because it’s an important day ! why wouldn’t they do that ? you want to practice today ? ”

“ what’s more important than that ! did i forget an anniversary ?! ”

it hits you at the same time the morning sun rises, your lawfully wedded has forgotten his own birthday. you mentally want to facepalm at bokuto for his forgetfulness, so incredibly eager to practice, but you’re dawned with the humorous fact that this is just so him.

and maybe it wouldn’t hurt to play along for now.

you’re now at the grocery store to buy food and some treats, beer and cake, for the birthday party you had planned at your house tonight. bokuto, the birthday boy in question, strolls beside you absolutely oblivious. maybe by now he’d of caught on.

“ what do we need a cake for ? ”

or maybe not.

you’d already sent a text to everyone invited tonight telling them of your current situation, and all agreed to act completely casual until your husband would eventually come to his senses.

you’re now preparing food, cutting up slices of prosciutto as atsumu pops a grape into his mouth.

“ you married n’ airhead, y’know ”

and yes, you do know, you’re sure of it. bokuto suspected absolutely nothing from the friendly visit of his teammate, and nothing by the arrival of 10 more of his closest friends.

perhaps akaashi’s arrival would make him suspect this is definitely more than just a regular get together, considering akaashi is usually never able to take a break from work for these kinds of things.

there’s a loud slap heard from a hand colliding with akaashi’s back, and bokuto’s bright smile is in view.

“ man, did all of you miss me or what ? ”

or perhaps not.

there’s a gift pile that grows with the more people that show up, and bokuto doesn’t even realize it until it’s practically overloading the table.

“ what’s with all the gifts ? ”

he stands next to you, glancing at it once, twice, before his entire face pales and drops into one of pure shock.

this is it. you’ve got him.

“ oh my god— is this a baby shower ? babe— are you pregnant ?! put that beer down ! ”

after you reveal that you are in fact not pregnant, you can tell that bokuto’s visibly becoming more confused and skeptical. his brow is quirked up into a questioning arch, and his arms are crossed over his puffed chest.

not one single person has cracked into spilling the so called “ secret ”, and you decide that your husband truly doesn’t understand what is going on.

kuroo then sits bokuto down into a chair, holding his shoulder as all of his friends gather around. he’s unable to see you in his linesight, only viewing the many cameras that are now pointing to him.

“ is there something on my face ? ”

and it’s not until you round the corner, holding tightly to a cake with candles and setting it down in front of him, that you let it slip.

“ happy birthday, bo. ”

the cheers that erupt from his friends and the kiss on his cheek from you is all bokuto needs for his face to form into a wide smile, blowing out his candles in a final realization as he bellows in a loud laughter.

“ whoops ! happy birthday to me ! ”

no, you didn’t even have to plan a surprise party, because being married to bokuto koutaro is a surprise in it of itself.

[irisintheafterglow]

do you guys ever think about streamer!sakusa because i do

cw: swearing

sakusasbigtits👑👑: wait wtf are they in the room ??? hinatashoyolover: ASHDSFKAJSDFHG ellawantsaran👑: PARTNER REVEAL violetvolley2012: mOVE YOUR FUCKNIG WEBCAM oikawamilkbox7: SHWO PARTNER SHOW FPARTNER miya_osamu: what the fuck is going on

"what the hell is a miya doing in my chat? i could've sworn you guys just finished a charity stream," he dodges, leaning back in his chair as chaotic messages urging him to show his partner flew by. "look, i don't know what you guys are talking about. there's no one in the room but me." cross-legged on his bed and wearing his jersey, you stifle a laugh into your fist just out of sight. his eyes flicker over to you for a moment and soften before he goes back to manipulating his chat.

miyarearrangemyinsides👑: YOU FUCKING LIAR sakusasbigtits👑👑: WHY ARE YOU GASLIGHTING US

"i'm serious." more messages of indignancy light up his screen. "i don't think you guys even know what gaslighting means." a smirk spreads across his face as chat explodes, taking the bait and continuing to argue with their favorite man through a screen. "thank you kuroobella7 for the five gifted-"

stop being a big baby and show us your partner, deadpans the automatic voice reading out his donations. you can't help it, that time, and the laugh that slips out is definitely picked up by kiyoomi's mic.

sakusasbigtits👑👑: WHO WAS THAT oikawamilkbox7: WE HEARD THAT OMI tinygianttwo: hi sakusa!!

"hey, shoyo. welcome back to the hellhole that is my chat," he says, continuing to ignore the outrage rising in his stream. "hop in vc one, i'm gonna see if bokuto wants to play phasmophobia." your attention returns to your laptop and you continue with typing out the rest of your assignment.

you vaguely register kiyoomi saying something about grabbing another drink, forcing an ad onscreen before creeping over to you. his hands rest on the edge of the bed as he leans forward, pressing his lips softly to yours and smiling against your mouth. "i love you a lot."

"i love you more. when are you gonna stop convincing chat that i don't exist?"

"when they earn it," he answers simply, kissing the corner of your mouth and the tip of your nose. if lovesickness were a disease, he wouldn't mind being ill. "which i think will take a very long time."

"you are not making my stream debut a sub-goal," you chuckle, tilting your neck up to kiss the moles above his eyebrow. "i will not let you."

"how else are they gonna earn it?"

"i am not letting you monetize showing my face on your stream, omi," you reiterate with a delirious smile. he continues to push, nudging his nose against yours like a needy cat.

"you're cute when in my jersey. what if i end stream right now and just lay here with you?"

"okay, lover boy," you say, gently pushing his face away. "go back to--huh?" both of your attentions shoot to your phone, where the beaming face of bokuto's contact photo illuminated your screen. you swipe down on the sudden influx of notifications and feel your heart stop.

Less Tolerable Miya👎🏐: CHECK CHAT HAHAHA THERES NO FUCKIGN WAY Better Miya🍙🏐: oi check your volume stupid Bokuhoe Kotaro🦉✨🏐: BABE YOUR BOYFRIEND ISNT MTUED Less Tolerable Miya👎🏐: wait is my name in your phone still less tolerable miya Sunshine Shoyo🧡☀️🏐: SAKUSA'S STREAM SOUND IS ON

"oh...shit," he mutters, pressing one more kiss to your forehead before running to his computer and throwing his headphones on, face bright pink and tripping over his words. his chat is a wildfire, persistent and absolutely uncontrollable. at some point, kiyoomi just gives up and leans back in his chair, looking for you to help.

you raise your eyebrows in question.

he tilts his head to beckon you over.

you appear in the frame of his webcam, wearing his jersey. kiyoomi looks at you like you are the only thing that matters in his entire world.

"alright fuckers, you happy now that you've seen 'em? good, because if we reach subgoal, i'm gonna make them play fnaf with me."

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