#atsumu is loved

[mellowwangxianenthusiast]

UshiSakuAtsu Hurt/Comfort

Ushijima heard Atsumus voice drifting from their bedroom when he got home from practice. He pressed a kiss to the top of Sakusas head, taking a deep breath as he smelled what Sakusa was cooking. "Is that dinner tonight or are you meal prepping?"

"Dinner. Made Atsu's favorite, he had a bad day today so I thought I'd make something to cheer him up." Sakusa gave Ushijima a kiss when he turned his head, smiling when it was reciprocated. "Atsumu had a bad day? What happened?"

"Yeah Im not sure what it was, he didn't want to talk about it yet. I think he's on the phone with Osamu so he probably wanted to talk to him about it first." Neither were offended whenever Atsumu sought out comfort from his twin first, they knew he would come to them eventually

"I see. Do you want any help?" They fell into a comfortable silence in the kitchen, music was softly playing from their Alexa. "I just, I dont get why Rin won't commit to moving in with me yet. I even said I'd open a new store in Shizuoka but that just didn't seem to be what he wanted." Atsumu hummed as he listened before he adjusted how he was sitting on the bed, his chin resting on his knee. "Maybe Rins just not ready for the commitment yet of moving in. Ya know he loves you but I think Rin just wants to take things slower. Have you asked what he wants right now?" "....no, I kind of just thrust the idea onto him. Ah fuck, you're probably right Tsumu. What did you wanna talk about again?" Atsumu let out a breath of relief, he had called Osamu an hour ago, and immediately his twin started talking about his relationship problems, ones he's heard before and had given advice already. "Foster wants to start putting in the other

Setter in practice matches and I'm just worried that he's gonna replace me. Just something was off and I'm just worried" "Oh I see. I doubt that's what's happening. Oh Rins calling I got to go, love ya Tsumu." Atsumu barely had time to say bye when Osamu hung up. Tossing his

Phone aside, he ran a hand through his hair, feeling his frustration and hurt grow more. He hadn't wanted to talk to Sakusa and Ushijima about it yet, he needed someone outside of Volleyball to talk to it about and Osamu was just out of the sphere enough to understand his fear

Deep down Atsumu knew he wasn't going to get replaced as starting setter, but the voice in his head wouldn't stop whispering 'Nobody likes you' 'You're easily replacable' And when the voice was feeling particularly evil? 'Ushi and Omi don't need you.' 'They don't want you'

'They'd be better off without you. They'd be happier if you were gone' Atsumu had never opened that door for them to see inside of it. He couldn't let them see his darkest insecurities. He couldn't risk losing them. When Sakusa had knocked on their door, Atsumu had already begun to spiral down that dark hole, barely registering what had been said. He's quiet through dinner, quiet when they clean up, and he doesn't try and cuddle with them as the sit on the couch to watch movies

By the time they were about to get into bed, Sakusa and Ushijima were watching him like hawks. Atsumu normally slept in the middle of the two, he liked being held by both of them, but that night he just stared at the bed before shaking his head to himself and he left the room. They found him sitting in the guestroom, staring at the window with a vacant look in his eyes. "Atsu, talk to us. Let us help you" "Tsumu, tell us what's wrong so we can fix it" They sat on either side of him, Ushijimas hand on his shoulder, Sakusas on his thigh. "Nothins wrong. The room was too hot for me, you guys go sleep in there, I'll be fine in here" "Were staying wherever you are, you shouldn't be alone right now, I can see the wheels in your head turning and I just want to say, and I think Omi would agree, whatever your brain is

Telling you is wrong." Atsumus eyes widened a fraction and they knew they had hit the correct assumption. "Atsu?" The kiss to his temple made him shudder, as if his whole body was thawing in an instant and his eyes started watering. "No one cares about me, not really. No one

Wants to listen to my problems because I don't matter to anyone. I'm just a placeholder, and the moment something better comes along I'm going to be thrown away. I'm only- I'm only wanted when people need to vent about their problems but- but if I /ever/ try to talk about mine?"

Atsumu took a deep breath, pausing and Ushijima and Sakusa shared a look, knowing if they interrupted him, they'd prove hum right. "If I ever talk about mine, im selfish. I'm stupid. I'm self centered. Osamu was right when we were younger, nobody really likes /me/. I'm just so

Tired of being the one everyone comes to because the moment I try and go to someone I'm punished." By the time he finished talking, the tears pooling in his eyes had started to fall and Ushijima pulled him into his arms while Sakusa wipes his face. "Tsumu I'm sorry people make you feel this way. I'm sorry Osamu ever said that to you, and I'm extremely sorry if either of us have ever made you feel like you're just a temporary thing" Atsumu cried into Ushijimas chest as the taller man talked. Then it was Sakusas turn to talk

"Atsu, you aren't a burden on us, and you aren't something we ever want to throw away. You can always come to us about whatever it is you're feeling, you won't scare us away by being honest and you won't lose us either. We're here to stay for as long as you'll let us be with you"

Atsumu grabbed at Sakusas hand on his thigh, bringing it up to his chest so he could hold onto it. It took awhile for Atsumu to stop crying and when he did, he was ready to talk. He told them everything including, after a bit of gentle coaxing, his fears of them leaving him. They didn't mock or laugh at him once, and there was not a single sign of disgust or boredom as he spoke. Sakusa was the first one to speak up when Atsumu finished, and he was stroking Atsumus hair as he talked "Atsu, we will never leave you. You are the sun in our life. You

Bring laughter and light everywhere you go and we would be absolute fools to abandon that. We will be here until you don't want us here anymore. I meant that earlier, I mean that now, and I'll mean it forever. I love you." He leaned forward and kissed Atsumu when he turned to

Look at him. Ushijima waited until Sakusa was finished before he spoke. "You know I'm not as good with words as Kiyo but I agree with everything hes said. Your presence feels like home and it feels like where I belong. You complete Sakusa and I."

Ushijima pressed a kiss to the top of Atsumus head. The blonde looked at the two with wide eyes, almost feeling like he was in a dream and was waiting for reality to kick in. When it didnt come, a small smile appear on his face and he nodded, and despite the redness of his eyes

And the tear stains on his cheeks, that smile was the most beautiful smile they had ever seen. "You both make me feel complete too..you make me truly feel like I'm wanted" And he was, Miya Atsumu was wanted. They would be having a talk with Osamu, but that would be another day

But tonight, they were focused on rebuilding Atsumu up, one kiss at a time.

[plagalkey]

late night takeout (street racing au)

[tenowls]

bro hes literally just standing there

[rintoorou]

miya twins as your brothers! with atsumu and osamu miya (duh!)

see pt. 2 here

tags haikyuu smau, miya twins, miya atsumu, miya osamu, miya atsumu au, miya osamu au

[goxjo]

𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

↪︎ a nsfw mini-series featuring various haikyuu x f bridesmaid!reader scenarios

A/N. I find myself cowering at the slightest hints of domesticity irl and therefore have trouble writing it so here’s a little idea I came up with that’s (sort of) close enough. AAAND I rewrote parts of something blue & something borrowed ++ they’re about 3-4 years old today sksks. Just wanted to show my earlier works some love that’s all <3

taglist. comment or send an ask to be tagged. please make sure your age is visible on your blog too <33

haikyuu masterlist ∘ general masterlist

꒰ 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐝𝐧𝐢 — 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 ꒱

I. Something Blue ⋮ Miya Atsumu

In which you, a bridesmaid, come across a groomsman who cannot wait to get away from all the drunk and lovesick fools at the wedding reception, much like yourself ⋮ Alternatively, in which you get to know each other while he’s balls deep into you

content. hookups, just a bunch of horny strangers, semi-public touching and grinding a.k.a. inappropriate pda, lots and lots of teasing, cockwarming, wc. 3.5k

II. Something Borrowed ⋮ Sakusa Kiyoomi

In which you find no way out of the most absurd wedding tradition of all time — the garter toss

content. light choking, slight humiliation, slight corruption, deepthroating, slight gagging, fingering, cunnilingus, mentions of alcohol, edging, slight praise kink, overstimulation, creampie, aftercare, wc. 6.1k

III. Something Old ⋮ Iwaizumi Hajime

In which the marriage of a close friend reunites you with your ex who returns after 3 years of no communication, making all unresolved feelings come to light ⋮ Alternatively, in which an ex tries to win you back

content. angst, exes to lovers, confrontation, quickie (sort of), semi-public sex, creampie, cum-eating

IV. Something New ⋮ Suna Rintarou

In which marital inevitabilities — merging families, in particular — force extended relatives to get to know each other. As if that in itself isn’t uncomfortable enough, you’re also forced to bunk with your future sister-in-law’s brother while you’re in town

content. and they were roommates!, reluctant roommates, acquaintances to friends with benefits to lovers, sharing a wall, mutual masturbation, some angst, bridesmaid & groomsman shenanigans

[heich0e]

i love the idea of suna not rly being the jealous type except for in really WEIRD ways. doesn't care what you wear ever or who you hang out with, but if you talk about the guy you had a crush on in middle school he stares at the ceiling that night as you lay in bed thinking about it. hates that anime you like because you called the main character your "baby girl". you could kiss osamu on the mouth, but if you sit too close to atsumu in the onigiri miya booth he gets annoyed and pouty.

[wttcsms]

dad!atsumu who starts begging his agent to get him a cereal brand collab too because when he walks downstairs to enjoy family breakfast, the last thing he wanted to see was all his kids eating cereal that came from a box with tobio kageyama doing a jump serve on the front of it. he's so pouty about it, and he's like "guys, it's not even that good" only to remember that you do a majority of the grocery shopping, so you purposely stocked y'alls pantry with five boxes.

[treasuringizu]

“Gimme a kiss,” Atsumu murmurs, deep voice low in your ear. His hands are on your hips, fingers digging into the softness of your skin. 

You pull him away from you, hands cupping his face and thumb running along his cheek in the way you know he likes. You raise an eyebrow, smiling softly, “I’m wearing lipstick, you know.” This causes his eyes to drop to your lips, gaze hungry, suddenly reminded of the fact. 

“So?” he asks, eyes flicking from yours and back to your lips. “Let everyone know I belong ta ya.” 

“You’re going to walk around with my lips printed on your face?” 

He nods eagerly, ducking to bury his face in your neck. “I’d be the happiest man alive if I got ta walk around like that.” 

This makes you laugh, your heart melt, and you reposition your arms around his shoulders to squeeze him closer to you. “You’re going to be late for practice, ‘Tsumu.”

“Just one kiss, baby. Even if it's on the cheek.” 

You sigh, but you know that he knows you’re only faking your reluctance. “Kay.” 

He pulls away from you, giving you his right cheek, and tapping his pointer finger against it with a giddy smile. You make sure to dramatize your actions, making an amplified noise when pulling away, laughing when he gives you his other cheek, and repeating your actions until he finally lowers his mouth to yours. 

He makes sure to deepen the kiss and only chases after you when you pull away, giving you little pecks and placing kisses all around your face, playfully biting your nose when it scrunches in fake disdain. When he finally separates from you, you take notice of the bright red lip marks on his cheeks, and the red tint left on his lips that are stretched into a grin. 

“How do I look?” 

“Like you are definitely mine.” 

His smile widens. “Great. ‘Xactly what I was goin’ for.” 

[asunflowerana]

g'morning, my pretty wife

hope you had a nice dream. you probably did, since you wouldn't wake up this morning even with the bunch of kisses I left on your face. you deserve the rest babe, especially with how quick weekends seems to pass now.

I headed out early to jog with bokuto and samu before practice, but I promise I won't miss our lunch later. you said you wanted to show me that thai place you found last week, right? can't wait to meet you there, sweetheart.

no skipping breakfast again, alright? if you're late, just call me and I'll order you some uber or something to get you to work. I know you get worried, but you need to eat at least something before leaving. don't want my princess feeling unwell later, got it? you know that I worry for you, and I'm sure you don't want me to freak out like last time.

love you with all my heart, baby. have a good day today.

with love,

your husband atsumu.

[haztory]

['sex' by the 1975]

⤷ atsumu miya x f!reader; best friends, references to infidelity, pining, sexual content (w.c 3.1k)

“it’s not sex.” he insists between mouthfuls. a drop of mustard dots the corner of his mouth. you stare incredulously.

“are you joking?” you ask. atsumu just shrugs his shoulder, intense focus saved for the burger held in his hands. practically inhaling a third of it in one bite as he brings it up to his mouth.

“‘s not like it’s the real thing.” he bobs his head side to side in consideration of the sandwich before he’s grabbing at the fries in your lap, “can i haf some.”

the carton lays practically emptied from his pilfering next to your abandoned chicken nuggets. three remaining, absent of consumption in favor of a bewildered stare at the man seated beside you on his bed. 

“fingering is penetration, that’s sex.” you say simply.

atsumu raises a brow, “yer gyno having sex with ya?”

“that’s different.” you level a stare at him, one that’s serious and fierce and that communicates everything you mean in the single look alone. he meets it with one of his own, familiarity and uncommunicated languages all the rage between the two of you. “she doesn't make me cum.”

“neither does yer boyfriend.” he shrugs, taking another large bite of his burger as you screech in offense. your hand meets his bicep with a sharp slap and he grabs at it in pain. “ow! ya were the one that told me that!”

”some people take a minute to figure it out.”

”sounds like its taking a lot longer than a minute.” he mutters to himself. “look, its a lost cause. just dump the guy before it gets anywhere. ya haven’t had sex yet, he’s got a weird face, dude cant tell a fake orgasm from a real one. why are ya fighting me on this?”

“fingering is sex! your body count would be zero if fingering didnt count.” you insist loudly and atsumu rolls his eyes. he crumples the foil his burger came in and throws it across the room, cheering loudly when it makes it into the bin in the corner of his room. 

his room is much the same since the last time you visited. photos of passing years sit framed on the desk— an image of he and osamu with their arms wrapped around each other, taken right before atsumu left for the olympics. another of you and atsumu placed right next to it, you leaning over his shoulder and him laughing loudly, beer bottles held deftly in hands and drunken flushes decorating your faces. momentos of faded high school memories, interspersed with flashes of young adult realities. 

its more sophisticated than it once was. minimal in furniture, and of the items that decorate the room they’re the perfect reflection of a twenty-four year old athlete. his closet is lined with designer gifted clothes, but his desk chair remains stacked with undone laundry, the basics of his everyday life found in the plush cushion more than on the hangers. the jacket you’re currently wearing was stolen from the top of that pile just after delivering a pointed comment at how cold he keeps his apartment. 

its a far cry from the bedroom he used to share with his brother, the one you remember at the dusk of previous memories. it was cramped and contained, lines between the two boys constantly blurred and you having to learn rather quickly where to step and when. but even now, as he lives on his own in a city a bit further from you than you’re comfortable with, not much has changed. you still sit on the left side of the bed and he takes the right; you still eat burgers on his bed and steal his jackets, and he throws papers into trash bins and insists he could’ve made it professional were he not already in volleyball; you still moan and complain about the woes of daily life and he still listens to them endlessly, interjecting the same amount of dumb enthusiasm as you know him to have. 

there is still much in common that remains between he and you. trusted familiarity, endless comfort; a bubble that remains whole and precious, unaltered despite life dealing its hand to you. you’re convinced there’s no one else in the world that gets you quite like atsumu does. 

there’s also no one in the world that works you up, quite like atsumu does.

atsumu stands from the bed, retrieving your own trash from your lap and chucking the rest of it in the bin. lithe and lean, he moves with a body that is sculpted to perfection as he turns off the overhead light and instead turns on the desk lamp, submerging the room in the lowly warmth of its glow. days are shorter now and the sun has just made it return home, leaving you to the dim luster of a pleasant comfort. 

its quiet, intimate. words entirely inappropriate to describe the weekly hangout with your best friend of seven years. 

pushing thoughts aside, you fight to remember what the whole point of the conversation was about. a boyfriend, right. your boyfriend.

right. 

“and he does not have a weird face, he’s just… interesting. it’s what i liked about him.” 

“revolting. i’m this close to spiking a ball in his face. it would be plastic surgery for the dud.”

“you’re being mean.” you tell him. 

atsumu scoffs loudly, “and yer being stupid! yer the one that’s complaining to me about it. yer really gonna date a guy who can’t figure it out when he fingers ya? what happens when ya actually have sex with the bozo?”

“it takes practice. i don’t blame him for not being able to get me there on the first try. i see him later tonight so i’ll talk to him about it. it’s hard to figure out how to turn someone on and then try to, you know, get me there—“

“woahwoahwoah—timeout.” atsumu hold his hands perpendicular to one another, forming a ‘t’. his eyebrows practically touch the hairline of his bleached hair. “he doesn't even turn you on?”

“not everyone is good at everything, like you.” you mean it sarcastically, but it comes out short and meek. it’s embarrassing to have to cover for the misgivings of your current beau, but there’s an obligation to. a point to make, especially to the man in front of you. 

you’ve met the ex-girlfriends, heard their feedback for the man before you. an average of six out of ten in boyfriend material, but he knocks the ball out of the park when it comes to the bed—or so you’ve heard. 

(aya, the most recent girl to have made her grand exit, followed you on instagram and asked you to not be a stranger. whether that was so she could have her in for atsumu or because she really wanted to be friends is still up for debate, but the gesture ended with a message in your directs.

[9:17] it sucks, he’ll always be more in love with volleyball than any girl he could ever date. and even if he didn’t, you’re his number two anyway, so there’s really no way i can win.

[9:20] i’m super sorry, aya. if it’s any consolation, i really liked you two together. he’s just slow, i’m sure you guys will figure it out.

[9:20] you were our biggest argument. 

[9:20] so no, i don’t think we will.

[9:21] i’ll miss that dick tho, best orgasm of my life. rip

there’s not much you can say to a message like that. there’s not much you can say to the surge of smugness that courses through you either, so you don’t.

you don’t tell atsumu about it.)

“alright. sit up then.”

his voice startles you. “what?” 

suddenly, he stands before the side of the bed, looming horribly tall over you as he peers down at you. he shoves his hands in the pockets of his gray sweatpants, the fabric unintentionally pulling down ever so slightly and the waistband of his black boxers peeking out in greeting. the light of the desklamp casts a halo over his silhouette.

your attention is drawn upward and it’s hard to deny the familiar pang that tends to strike through you every so often in times like this. the simple effect of being near him. atsumu is unfairly handsome, and while it’s hard to put a name to the feeling that pulses inside of you when the light catches him just right or when a smile is even more charming than usual, the ache is always the same.

it’s fleeting, you convince yourself. something you refuse to settle on for too long. contexts and suppressed hopes pushed to the back of your mind along with the other unspoken things.

“come on.” he gestures two fingers upward. “i’ll show ya how easy it is to turn a girl on.”

its curiosity that has you standing up on your knees on the comforter, nothing more. its the wonder of how exactly your best friend makes his move on women that leads you to be so close to him, chests practically touching. breaths intertwining as atsumu stares a kind of serious into you that you’ve never been in the receiving end of before.

“im gonna touch ya.” his voice is low and your heart beats erratically in your chest. you nod. 

lifting his right hand, cold fingertips run across the heated skin on the back of your arm. digits trailing upward as he paints a pathway up. and it’s nothing—just his hand on your arm, nothing new or different, and yet your breath hitches. innocent in theory, but something solidifies on atsumu’s face, the familiar signs of determination playing out on his face. it’s less babied now, more formed and angular with the growings of an adult man, but it’s the same focus in his eye, the same clench in his jaw. 

his fingers trail up then down, repeating a circular figure on your skin. the sounds of your mingling breaths the only whispers between you two. your eyes dart down to his lips, but his stay fixed on you. studying every flicker of your eye, every inhale. 

his fingers break from their pattern and trails down to your wrist, then your palm, then your own fingers. tracing them, dancing with them, intertwining them slightly only to pull them away. 

“we should stop.” you whisper after a moment of his caress.

“why?” he asks and a quick glance to his gaze reveals that he knows why. he’s just making you spell it out.

it’s unfortunate that the only reason you want to stop is out of principle, and not because you truly have any reservations about any of this. your boyfriend of three months all but an annoying buzz in your ear.

“this feels like cheating.” you tell him simply. atsumu cocks his head to the side, charming smirk pulling across his lips. 

“i’m touching yer arm. this isn’t anything, yet.”

“you shouldn’t be touching my arm like this.”

“why? cause it’s working, right?” his voice drops to a low rumble, words vibrating through you and shooting straight to your core. “see how easy it is?”

“that means this is cheating then, right?” the question is posed, but it’s obvious it’s more to convince yourself than him. because all that he’s done is touch your arm and you’ve felt the bubbling of that unnamed something heat within you. it feels the exact same as it did seven years ago when you met him; feels identical to the moment four years ago when a drunken night led to a drunken kiss that was forgotten about the next day; feels the exact same whenever he looks at you like he does now, like you're open for the taking. a pointedly very different response to the dread that comes when getting intimate with your actual boyfriend. 

and while atsumu may be doing this to prove a point, to rub it in your face that he was right and you were wrong, you don’t trust that you’ll be able to not carry this with you. to not want more than you should. 

“nah.” he says simply, knowingly. “if i kiss you then it’s a problem.”

“oh, so kissing is cheating, but fingering isn’t?”

“can you shuddup? always runnin’ that damn mouth.” he renders you quiet. 

satisfied with your silence, he brings his left hand to cup your jaw, thumb and index finger grasping your chin and tilting your head to the left, leaving your neck exposed. he leans in, nose tracing a line up the column of your neck until he meets the juncture between that and your jaw. it’s a simple movement, and yet it feels like eternity in his hands. his breath hits steadily against the expanse of your cheek as he whispers into your ear.  “does he touch ya like this?” 

the gasp you release is guttural.

the arm previously fiddling with your fingers quickly wraps around your waist, pulling you flush to him. you have no choice but to embrace him with your own arms, hands cupping the back of his neck to steady yourself. it’s impulse to run them down the expanse of his back, to feel the muscles that he’s worked so hard for, but you resist. keeping yourself locked on his neck and nothing more, as though you being pliant to his ministrations wasn’t jeopardizing enough.  

his thumb inches upward, stroking the corner of your lips sweetly. “does he take his time with ya? cause i would.” 

its then that his lips meet the skin of your neck, tingles erupting from the connection. all of its effects causing an inadvertent clench within you. “it’s not about shoving fingers inside and just doing it. its about doing it the way you like it. and i’d make ya tell me how ya like it. since yer always runnin’ that damn mouth, might as well put it to good use.”

its all-encompassing, the traitorous burn between your thighs. and yet, this is the unnamed something, all that you’ve pushed away.

“astumu—” you whine and its in that exhale of yours that he releases a sigh of his own. one that almost sounds restrained.

“tell me to stop.” he says quickly, lips mouthing against your neck as he utters the words. 

and you don’t want him to. not really. the desire is feverish, unlike anything you’ve felt before and to end this is to end the sweetness of something you’ve yet to taste. if it were to be with anyone you would want it to be with him.

you could take the teasing, the “i-told-you-so” from osamu, the obliteration of a friendship for the uncertain promise of something more. but it isn’t right. not like this. if mountains were to come to a head, you want it to happen because they were gravitated to each other, not because the earth told them to do so.

“stop.” you tell him, and it’s like a hot brand that strikes him. he’s immediately pushing away from, untangling his limbs from you and stepping back into the swath of darkness in the room. 

his breaths are deep and heavy, that much you can tell from the distance. shuttering exhales that wrack his chest. you can hardly make out his irises, only see the intensity of dark pupils. it’s hard to believe that he could be feeling the way you do, just from the simple touch alone. a quick glance down to his grey sweatpants proves otherwise. 

a moment, then two, pass by. ragged breaths filling the distance, words spoken in the silent language you’re both fluent in. 

“does this mean i’m easy then?” you ask quietly, an effort to ease the wall of tension. 

“no.” he shakes his head gently, “just means i know ya.”

he knows what he means to say, the words and all of their yearning practically knocking against his teeth to escape. it’s the long haul, almost a decade long game of carefully advanced chess pieces to get to this point. blocked, temporarily, by the appearance of the new guy. a boyfriend of yours that atsumu met once, a guy he barely attempted to learn the name of. for reasons of his own, their knowing pertinent only to him. held deeply within the urges of being seen, the desires of having you wholly, completely.

there are plenty of other ways that he could do this—probably be more eloquent about it. admit pushed away feelings when you’re not in the midst of ranting about how your boyfriend just can’t get you off. 

but the tension irks him. thick enough to cut a knife, always following the two of you in the long held stares and closeness in which you two gravitate towards each other. the answer to your boyfriend problem is standing right in front of you. he knows what he wants you to do when you see your boyfriend later tonight. 

there are certain shoes that atsumu is convinced he could fill better than your boyfriend.

your face is flushed, and the desk lamp makes you look angelic under the lowlights, and you're wearing his jacket like you always do in a way that makes him believe it was always meant for you. and he’s not entirely convinced, even without the cloud of lust that hangs over him, that you don’t want this just as bad as he does.

osamu once said that atsumu wouldn’t admit his feelings to you even if they hit him over the head. they’re here, now. settling in the distance between you two, bobbing in the capsizing waves of want. they ache to be spoken, knock repeatedly against his gritted teeth. 

but a choice is made in that moment, with you looking at him as wild as you are. atsumu will admit to the selfish and prideful part of himself, but this—you— aren’t something to just take. the taste of your neck, the feel of your body against him, it must be given to him, earned. not because he needs to make a petty point, but because you want him to. 

he cares for you too much to be reckless in how he plays his cards. even if osamu will bust his balls for it later.

you have a boyfriend. and he can’t force you to change that. it wouldn’t be right, he’s given you the taste, he hopes it will be enough.

“like that.” he says after a moment, pushing down his pride and long held desires for you. “tell him ya like it like that.”

a/n: why is it that whenever i stop writing for kuroo, the one i always want to write for is atsumu. also big ups for my beta who entertains me and proofreads me at all hours of the day. i love you sanju!!!!!!

[emmyrosee]

I’m so late, I JUST saw your post 😭 but if you’re still in need of ideas, how abt an absolutely disgustingly sappy diagnosis of lovesickness for our dear atsumu? teasing him for being down horrendously and he doesn’t even bother to fight back bc he’s just like “well yeah” ☹️🫶🏻

I AM FROTHINF AT THE MOUTH YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH I MISSED HIM I COULD KISS YOU FOR THIS MWAH MWAH MWAH ☹️🩷

——

“Bro, you’re so in love with me, it’s craaaaazy.”

Your tease falls from your lips as Atsumu passes you a steaming mug, a smile on his face as he does.

He offers you a shrug, “so what if I do? If you were in my shoes, so would you.” He gently lifts your legs from where they’re curled on the couch and slips under them, resting them back on his thighs for you to continue to rest comfortably. “And don’t call me bro, we’ve been together for 3 years.”

You smile and sip your warm tea, “I’m just saying you want to kiss me so bad it makes you look goofy. Just do it, bro.”

With that, he leans over to press a kiss to your lips, “don’t.” Kiss. “Call.” Kiss. “Me.” Kiss. ���Bro.”

“One more, just to be sure?” You mewl, which he immediately provides to you. This time, his lips linger longer, a hand gently resting on your knee and soothingly rubbing his thumb over. You part slightly to put your mug down, relishing in the noise of protest he pouts out. You giggle and turn back to him, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him close. “I love you.”

“I love you. So much.” His arms wrap lowly around your waist, tugging you impossibly closer. His lips move down to your neck, sponging wet kisses there before moving up to your cheek. You angle into his touch, fingers toying with the stubbly hairs of his undercut, and you smirk at the gasp and shiver he gives in response.

“You get so drunk on me, oh my god,” you continue to tease. He snickers against your skin. “One ‘I love you’ and you’re down for the count, aren’t you?”

“You know I am,” He mumbles, face lingering in your warm neck. “You would be too, if you were me. You’re just irresistible. Really, this is your fault.”

“No,” you assure. “I’m built different. I’m no softie like you bro.”

Immediately, his fingers spider up your sides and to your ribs, and your arms dart down in defense from his tickles. “What did I say?” He snaps, but his lips are curled into a smirk. “What did I say about calling me bro? Huh? What did I say?”

“Don’t tickle me!” You plead, trapping his strong fingers under your elbow.

“No, I don’t think that was it,” he hums. “I think it was something like… oh! Don’t call me bro! Isn’t that wild? Isn’t that crazy?” He peppers little kisses on your neck, and you toss your head back in laughter.

But you can feel the love emanating off of him. The happiness at hearing your squeals and squirms, coupled with getting drunk from kissing your warm skin truly is enough to get his heart beating, so loud you can practically hear it.

And hey. You’ll take some revenge tickles if it means you get to indulge in this side of him.

[saturns-satellites]

TIMESKIP OSAMU

[plagalkey]

in good company (street racing au)

[haebai-png]

weak

[kitasgloves]

hq characters realizing they're stupidly in love with you

They stare endearingly while you're focused on cooking instant ramen for them because you don't know how to cook:

Yamaguchi, Daichi, Iwaizumi, Ushijima, Semi, Kita, Osamu

When they find you drooling in your sleep absolutely adorable:

Kageyama, Asahi, Kenma, Yaku, Akaashi, Konoha, Suna, Hirugami, Sakusa

They laugh so hard when you say the corniest and dumbest joke:

Yachi, Sugawara, Hanamaki, Bokuto, Tendou, Hoshiumi, Komori

They sigh lovingly when you're picking your nose while scrolling through your phone:

Hinata, Nishinoya, Oikawa, Atsumu

They make fun of you for being clumsy:

Tsukishima, Kuroo, Matsukawa, Shirabu

©kitasgloves (do not steal or copy)

[goxjo]

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞 ⋮ 𝐦𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐮

↪︎ bridesmaid series ∘ haikyuu mlist ∘ general mlist

In which you, a bridesmaid, come across a groomsman who cannot wait to get away from all the drunk and lovesick fools at the wedding reception, much like yourself ⋮ Alternatively, in which you get to know each other while he’s balls deep into you

pairing. groomsman! miya atsumu x bridesmaid! reader

warnings. no reader pronouns, f anatomy! reader, hookups, just a bunch of horny strangers, semi-public touching and grinding a.k.a. inappropriate pda, pet names (darling, sweets, he also keeps calling you cute & pretty), wedgie, masturbation, cockwarming, overstimulation, creampie, pillow talk, pregnancy joke, breast/nipple play

word count. 3.5k

an. this was the first smut I ever wrote (like 4 years back). this is also rewritten & reposted <3

꒰ 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐝𝐧𝐢 — 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 ꒱

Your bridesmaid flower crown is long-forgone, swept along the late afternoon tide. The midnight blue scarf wrapped loosely around your neck is about the only thing keeping you warm and. Your borderline-sheer bridesmaid dress would’ve definitely suited the beachy occasion if it weren’t for the fact that temperatures this time of the year are starting to drop.

Still, you pay no mind to the cold when the salty breeze beckons you to dip your toes in the sea, leaving your woes behind in a quick attempt to remove yourself from the reception. Always the bridesmaid, never the bride. And to think you’re the only one in your friend group who didn’t come with a +1. No wonder you came to the sea for some company when everyone else has just about taken the dancefloor, dancing not alone to some mood music.

You run your fingers through your hair, pulling it back in a lazy attempt at keeping it in place while you indulge in the ocean breeze. The cold wind kisses your now exposed back, hairs on your nape prickling as you close your eyes and tilt your chin up, baring your neck to the chilly sensation on your skin.

Snapping you out of your daze is the wind snagging the scarf off your neck — the garment didn’t go far but tides have started to be unforgiving at this hour.

It takes you a few good seconds to decide if it’s worth the risk of getting your dress wet, let alone accidentally drowning with no one aware of your whereabouts. Only, anyone who could save you is either drunk or lovesick.

Screw it. You reach for the hems of your dress, holding them up to your knees, about ready to brave the 2-feet-high seawater.

And as if the sea gods had just answered your plea, you freeze in place when you hear a snicker coming from behind you, the apparent source of it walking past you, beating you to your scarf.

It’s one of the groomsmen from your now friend-in-law’s side of the family. Dirty blonde with a clean black undercut, white dress shirt that’s four, five buttons undone, exposing his toned chest.

You wonder how long he was able to make a spectacle of you before rushing to your aid when you realize he’s already barefoot and had more than enough time to take off his shoes and socks. Funny, he didn’t even bother to fold his beige pants before charging on. He shoots you a smirk before picking up your scarf, gently wringing the saltwater out. His shins splash against the tides as he makes his way over to you, looking far too amused for someone whose getup had been needlessly soiled by the ocean.

“You didn’t have to, but thank you, uhm—”

“Atsumu?” He says it like it’s a sarcastic reminder, as if his name is something you’re already supposed to know. “Seemed like an important scarf, and uh — you can thank me tomorrow over dinner.”

You thank the sea gods for answering your prayers even though it almost took a human sacrifice (you) in order for them to grant you company — and someone so easy on the eyes too.

“I feel like I’ve seen this already,” half-impressed, half-suspicious, you say as you take your scarf back.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, in Hercules or the ones you see in clichés. You know… the whole damsel in distress trope? Then the hero conveniently hears her distress call, comes to her rescue, and they both get wet for it.”

“Darling, you barely even dipped in the water. I didn’t get you wet, did I?”

Your lips purse in amusement, causing you to bite the inside of your cheek as you chuckle. “Just a little. But don’t worry, you don’t have to commit.”

“But what if I want to?”

“Then I guess we could look into it after dinner tomorrow. I’m ___. Nice to meet you, Atsumu.”

“Scarf and a date. Must be your lucky day. Pick you up at 8?”

“Sure, but promise me you’ll change into something dry.”

That earns you yet another snicker from him. “I will if you will.”

Your planning is interrupted by the sound of roaring cheers and clinking bottles apparently for someone who had just passed out. It’s ridiculous since it’s only been barely a few hours into the afterparty.

“Whad’ya know. And it’s only 6 o’clock,” you huff out knowing you have to sit through more of these tonight, already mentally exhausted at the thought.

“To think there’s going to be 5 more hours of this or so.”

As if the gods hadn’t blessed you enough today, you find your would-be date as engrossed at the scenery as you. It turns out, he’s as impressed with you as you are with him. His face instantly switches from a scowl to an inquisitive one with a cocked brow. You swear you hear his thoughts as clear as day asking you ‘you thinking what I’m thinking?’.

In case the message didn’t come across, he holds a hand out, asking you again, “Wanna get outta here?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

…

Like some horny teenagers who had just gotten off prom, you find yourselves hand-in-hand running through endless corridors, leaving trails of giggles and sand past concerned staff and other guests on your way to your hotel room.

You try your hardest to brush off your pseudo-savior's eagerness while still in public. But with the way he keeps kissing the back of your hand and persists on planting kisses atop your shoulder every time anything blocks your way, you can’t help the lewd sounds that escape your lips.

The knowing looks that come your way don’t help either, not when Atsumu is just keen on trying you in every torturous way possible as some form of pre-foreplay.

Atsumu is ruthless even as you enter the elevator that had a family and a few other guests on board. He leads you to the back in his half-hearted attempt to be discreet.

Still a couple floors away, he passes the time by snaking both hands around your waist, pressing you up against his chest. As if timed right at the ding of the elevator, you feel two fingers pinch your ass, making your breath hitch a tiny squeak, forcing you to cover your mouth, and it takes everything in you not to take him on then and there.

“Atsumu, stop,” quietly, you plead, chuckling between syllables.

Ding, the elevator goes again, and for revenge, you grind your ass against his crotch.

“Mm,” he hums, chuckling low and breathy at the sudden wave of pleasure forcing him to dig his fingers into your waist.

“There are children in here,” one snarky lady comments as she tries to cover her children’s ears.

“Don’t worry. When they grow up, they’ll understand—”

“Atsumu!” You cover your mouth instantly in a futile attempt to stifle your laughter, earning daggers of stares from everyone else on the elevator.

The elevator dings one more time as the screen flashes your floor number, signalling your stop.

“Sorry!” You yell out when the doors are about to close with Atsumu dragging you to your feet, looking back to the unforgiving looks from the people left at the elevator.

…

“What’s taking so long, ___?” Atsumu whines.

“Shut up, I’m looking okay?”

You scramble through your tiny purse, cursing and wondering why your keys are never where you need them to be.

“Take any longer and I wouldn’t think twice to have you right here.”

“You’re not helping— found it!”

Atsumu stands right behind you as you fiddle with your keys. You can feel his impatience growing and pressing against you as he parts your hair to one side, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses on your jaw, down to the crook of your neck.

You suppose it’s the excitement in the air, where love and love-making are to be expected — the culprit behind why Atsumu just couldn’t wait to kiss you until you’re at least inside your room, where you’re hidden from the security cameras. It’s that or the party really must’ve sucked. In the heat of the moment, you kiss him back, hands roaming every which way, from his silky locks down to his biceps that feel so taut underneath your palms. You wonder if you’re probably putting on a good show for the people behind the cameras.

You enter your room after what felt like hours. Atsumu grabs your hand, interlocking with your fingers as he leads you to your bed. Mouths still latched onto each other’s, the need to be rid of clothes becomes urgent to say the least.

Shoes kicked off, and scarf discarded, he sits on the edge and you straddle him as you unbutton his shirt. The second you pull out, calloused fingers snake around the back of your head, and without an ounce of care, Atsumu pulls you back in, crashing his mouth onto yours.

“Sweets, you taste like heaven,” he says, moving on to trail your neck with kisses.

He runs his hands over your thighs, giving them a tight squeeze before he attempts to undress you. He attempts to tug at the zipper of your dress but it doesn’t budge.

”You’re hopeless,” you tease, playfully punching his chest. “Let me help you”

“I’d offer to rip it off but really, I just wanted to watch you strip.” He props his hands behind him, smirking as he chews on the inside of his bottom lip, eyes glistening with anticipation as he watches you get out of your dress. You take off both straps, letting your dress fall to the ground.

“Hh-ooly fuck,” he whistles, chest emptying out the chunk of breath he held back, pupils blown out as he takes the sight of your exposed top. His eyes are dead glued to your figure. With labored breaths, he slowly cups his aching bulge a few times before swiftly unbuckling his belt with one hand, head of his cock creating a dent on his boxers when he unbuttons his pants.

“My turn,” he coos, throwing his pants and shirt aside, revealing a rock hard build that could only belong to a sculpture of a Greek god. His breaths grow heavier the second he takes his cock out of his boxers, you gulp at the size of his girth alone, never mind the length you’re sure you’re not going to be able to take. His chuckles are low and carnal, ones that can’t wait to devour you.

He knows that look on your face. It’s one he’s so used to seeing upon showing his former lovers and fuck buddies his full and hard cock for the first time. The hollow of his palm gathers the slick from the tip. “Fuck, ____. The things I can’t wait to do to you.” He grunts while his fingers play with his foreskin, afterwards smearing pre-cum across his hard length.

With one hand slowly pumping his cock, he reaches for you with his free hand, drawing you back to him with your knees on either side of him, his free hand caressing your sides.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he utters and you feel his soft hair brush over your collarbone as he plants a kiss on your breast. He moves his mouth south of your nipple, tongue flicking the bud before capturing it in his mouth. He releases with a pop, alternating between licking and sucking on your supple flesh.

”Atsumu,” you mutter his name, fingers brushing through his silky locks while he’s in your embrace, clothed cunt lightly rubbing on the tip of his cock, “please,” you murmur.

”Hm? Can’t hear you,” he hums, teeth sinking into your tit as his tongue plays with your nipple, not having had his fill with them yet. He knows full well what you need with his fingers tracing along the hems of your underwear.

“F-fuck!” you cry from the sudden burning sensation on your ass down to your cunt, holding onto him for dear life as you try to grind against the much-needed friction, and you realize he’d pulled a fistful of your underwear from behind you.

“God, you’re so pretty. Even the sounds you make are so pretty.” He tightens his grip on your panties, running his free fingers between your spilled labias.

“You weren’t lyin’ about getting wet after all, were you, sweets?”

“S-stop teasing, Atsumu—fuck!” He parts your underwear and runs a finger through your slippery folds. “Mmf,” you mewl when he pinches your clit, teasing your sensitive bud, your body practically melting into his touch, nails digging into his shoulders.

“I’m just stating the obvious, ___. You’re so wet, it’s so cute. So eager. So fucking ready for me.”

“You fucking idi—ahh!” Atsumu relentlessly pumps his middle and ring finger into your wet hole, his thumb drawing fast slimy circles onto your clit, making you collapse onto him as he fucks you with his fingers.

“You want my cock? Say it. Say you want my cock. Beg for it sweets. I want to hear you say it. C’mon, say it.”

“P-please… your cock… Atsummff— hha!!” You whimper, head bowed, forehead leaning on his shoulder. You’re losing rhyme and reason as you mount his hand, hips bucking onto his touch riding your first orgasm, all while Atsumu peppers your shoulder blade with kisses.

“You’re so fucking cute, wanna hear you cummin’ all night long.”

Before you could shoot back a response, his mouth is on yours again, kissing you fervently with his tongue battling against yours. You moan into his mouth as he rubs now-menacingly slow circles on your sensitive bud, letting out a whimper when he slides two digits again inside you, exploring your velvet walls.

“Please, please, please, ‘Tsumu,” pressing your forehead against his, you purr, making Atsumu curl his fingers inside you.

He lets out a soft breathy chuckle. You could tell he’s pleased with himself, toying at you who has already come undone with just his fingers.

He hooks his hands under your thighs, fingers digging in your skin as he lifts you, gently laying you down on your bed.

His brown eyes are fixed on yours while he removes your underwear, making your breath hitch at your full exposure. His head tilts, looking at your puffy cunt with such hunger in his gaze. He lines himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock accidentally rubbing against your clit, and he doesn’t miss the way your mouth instantly formed an ‘o’.

And for the last time, “Atsumu, please. I need you,” you beg.

“So fucking pretty.” He shoots you a smirk before wrapping your legs around his waist, fully thrusting all of his length inside you, not giving you time to adjust at all. Luckily, your own juices help with the stretch as he pounds into you on all fours.

”Ah—god, Atsumu!” your eyebrows furrow as you cry out in pleasure. To stifle your moans, you bite onto your thumb, but that seems to do something to Atsumu, his gaze and pace both turning into something more animalistic.

”Fuck, keep doin’ that and I’ll be done in a matter of seconds,” his clicks his tongue and you feel him twitch inside you.

Wanting this to last as long as possible, you obey him, clutching onto the sheets instead. But at the rate he’s going, you can’t help but arch into him as you feel yourself nearing your climax once more.

“So glad we left the party,” you mumble to which Atsumu laughs. “Fuck yeah.”

Your breaths are getting shorter and you start to feel tears pricking your eyes. ”I’m almost- almost there- a-almost-“ Your eyes close shut, head craning back subconsciously as you await your orgasm.

”No, no. Fuck. Look at me, I wanna see your pretty face,” he demands as he continues to pound into you. You follow his command despite your self-consciousness over your unravelling expression, but a bolt of heat shoots down your stomach so hot, it stifles any complaint that could come from your mouth.

”Perfect,” he says as he clasps his calloused hands on yours, forcing you to let go of the sheets.

His strides have gone uneven at this point and you wrap your legs tighter around him, waiting to hit your peak for the nth time. Open mouthed and breath hitching, you force yourself to look at him while your insides clenches around his throbbing cock. You’re trembling in your high as he slams one more time into you — grunting in his own release before plopping on top of you.

“Damn,” you breathe out.

Clearing your throat, you lightly urge him to shuffle from his position.

“Damn,” he says back, leaving you a chaste kiss on your cheek, and for some reason, that makes your heart skip a beat in a different way compared to the intimate exchange you just had.

It doesn't miss you that he’s still in you, hard. He lays on his side after he exits you, and you bring your leg around so that he’s spooning you. You jolt back when you feel him sliding his cock back in from behind you, but the stretch is one you welcome, too tired to even complain about all the cum he’s squeezing out of you.

”You’re not gonna look me up three months later asking for support aren't ya?” he pants.

”You seriously only thought to ask that only now?”

He laughs sheepishly and you add, ”Don’t worry, we’re good.”

“How’d you end up going to the ceremony anyway? Big occasions don't seem like your type.”

“You — you’re not just trying to make small talk, are you?” you tease as Atsumu fiddles with your breast. Even during pillowtalk, he’s quite on brand as the tits kind of guy.

“Darling, it’s called ‘getting to know you’,” he retorts, squeezing your tit.

“I just like the beach,” you say plainly, slightly taken aback by the sudden interrogation. “And how are you related to the groom?”

“We’re cousins. But he’s closer to my twin than me.”

Looking over your shoulder, “you’re a twin?!”

Your insides suddenly twitch at your discovery, making him jolt forward “Careful there!” he grunts, warning you as he wraps an arm around your waist.

“Same undercut, dark hair. That’s right, I saw him too. How did I not see you were twins?!”

You feel the grumble of his chest while he chuckles, feeling hints of exhaustion in his laughter while he’s pressed up against your back. He kisses your shoulder, feeling his weight on you as he leans into you even more. “You musta’ just been looking at the right sort,” he replies cheekily, hand latched onto your breast again.

“By ‘right’, you mean you?”

“Yeah? You seemed to think so when you were screaming my name two minutes ago.”

”I’m just saying. I wouldn't know if you're the better twin. Just ‘cause—”

“What’s that?” He brings a hand over to your clit, viciously rubbing your sensitive bud, making your hips shake. He’s banking on your overstimulation from your multiple orgasms, obviously unwilling to let you finish whatever it is you were gonna say.

“What is it?”

“Nothingfff— I—”

“I what?”

“Feel so good, d-don’t stop—fuck!”

He lifts you by your waist so that you’re on all fours, fingers still stroking your clit. It doesn't take much until he’s thrusting into you again. This time, you grab hold of the headboard as he moves one hand to cup your breast and another on your back, keeping you just where he wants you.

The ram of his hips against your as is a mix of sticky and slippery, sticky where his cum began to dry out seconds ago. He pounds into you harder this time, apparently unhappy with your supposed comparison.

“‘Tsumuuuu,” you purr. If a while ago you were merely oriented with the stretch of his cock, now it’s something so familiar you’re sure no other cock can quite fit like a glove compared to his. And you suddenly remember that you had practically just met this person and yet he’s already balls deep into you for the second time today.

The sound of his rock hard thighs ramming onto your ass sends your insides coiling. Still slightly sticky from the cum that hasn’t fully dried out, your clit sticks onto the base of his cock before he fully exits and pounds into you again. Cunt gummy, slimy, and stuffed all at once, a bolt of heat from your stomach shoots down to your center making you scream in pleasure.

He squeezes your tit one last time before bringing his hand to rub circles on your clit. Once more, you arch your back, whimpering as you get off from your high. Pretty soon, he’s coming off from his own high, stuffing you full of his hot and thick seed.

“Just so ya know, I forgive you. Clearly, you weren't thinkin’ straight a while ago,” he says and you could almost hear the smirk in his face by how he said it. He plops back down on the bed, pulling you close to his sweaty, panting body.

“You are so full of it,” you sneer.

He pulls you in tighter before asking, “so, 8 PM tomorrow?”

“Deal.”