#atsumu reader insert

[ravenslvt]

fucking your ex boyfriend in the bathroom of a party.

☆ multiple x f!reader ☆

cw: smut, mirror sex, public sex, rough sex, hate sex (sort of), tension, alcohol, oral f! receiving, v fingering, spanking, pet names, praise, sex with feelings, unprotected sex

you don’t know how your bestfriend managed to rope you into coming to this party, all you did know is you wanted to get plastered while she found someone to hook up with.

you held onto her for dear life as you made your way through groups of people. mostly strangers, but you saw some familiar faces. you started to feel a bit nervous when you noticed some eyes roaming your outfit. maybe you should’ve worn a longer skirt…

your bestfriend’s eyes immediately spotted a pretty girl across the room, she gives you an apologetic smile. you roll your eyes.

“just go” you sigh. at least someone would be getting some action tonight. you make your way to the kitchen where there were bottles apon bottles layed out on the counter. you grab one of the disposable cups, pouring yourself a mixed drink before downing it. the liquor bringing a comforting burn down your throat.

suddenly, you felt a cold chill in the room. you look around, there were no windows or doors open. until finally, your eyes immediately draw to a pair of familiar ones. oh great, he’s walking over. you turn around, pretending you didn’t notice him, hoping he’ll walk past you.

“oh, c’mon. acting like you didn’t see me?” he leans against the counter next to you, a drink in his own hand. fuck, he still wore the same cologne. the smell almost made you dizzy. he was wearing an unfamiliar jacket, it looked new.

his name rolls off your tounge in a harsh greeting, taking another swig of your drink. he gives a lopsided smile. “still mad at me, pretty?” he takes your empty cup, refilling it for you the way he knew you always liked it. you give him a glare. he puts his arms up in defense. his body looked bigger, more defined. he was clearly working out more since you two broke up.

you snatched your cup back. if you were going to be forced into this conversation, you might as well be drunk.

“why are you here?” you ask, your eyes never leaving his own. he was drawing you in without even trying.

“i was invited. why are you here?” he pokes your shoulder with his pointer finger.

you just point to your best friend across the room, who was now making out with the cute girl from earlier. he huffs out a small chuckle. “that girl never rests, does she.” he comments. you just shake your head, “no she does not.” you sigh, another swig.

his eyes go back to you. more specifically, your outfit. you had a new top on, he’d never seen it before. he’d have remembered seeing such a pretty shirt on you before. and of course, you wore your favorite mini skirt. the one he always loved you wearing.

“this is cute, wear this for me hmm?” he smirks, his fingers playing with the bottom hem of the skirt. you swat his hand. he was the one who bought it for you. almost fucking you in the dressing room when you tried it on after doing a little spin for him.

“no… i just had nothing else to wear.” your face flushes. you didn’t know if it was from the alcohol or from the fact you were both thinking about the times you’d sit on his lap in this skirt, panties off while you bounced on his cock.

god, he loved that skirt.

you could feel yourself clench around nothing just thinking about it. he gets a little closer when he notices your flushed state, his fingers drumming against the table filled with alcohol. his damned fingers that knew every part of your body.

ok, you were definitely a little drunk, or maybe you were just stupid.

your back slams against the door of the bathroom, the blasting music muffled from the small enclosed room.

your lips met in a hungry, bruising kiss, tongues fighting for dominance. his large hands gripped your waist, your head forced against the wood. he moves one of his hands to shove between your thighs under your skirt, his fingers digging into your panties, making you whine into his mouth when he pinches your clit.

“fuck, this wet already? missed me that much, sweetheart?” he mumbles into your mouth, pulling away to pull the flimsy fabric down your legs with his free hand. of course you wore your favorite panties, the ones he bought especially for you. the sight made him groan.

“i’m not your-“

“i wasn’t talking to you.” he stares directly at your slick pussy. great, now he was talking straight to your cunt.

you look at him with glossy eyes as he kneels down, kissing down your thighs. you hook your fingers into the waistband of your skirt, but he gives your thigh a slap. “keep it on. i wanna see you get fucked in this pretty little skirt again.” he practically growls as he gives your thighs a few more kisses and bites, marking you up.

“want everyone to see you still belong to me.” he sucks marks into your upper thighs, placing a few where your little skirt couldn’t cover.

you mewl his name when his tounge delves into your sopping pussy, his fingers pulling your folds apart to get more access. your hands grip his hair for some stability as he laps you, his tounge switching from flicking your sensitive clit to prodding at your tight hole.

he replaces his mouth with his fingers, pumping two into your cunt as he suctions his lips onto your bud, making you bite your lip to prevent yourself from screaming out, almost drawing blood.

“fuckk!” his long fingers hit deep inside of you, his digits shifting between thrusts and curling inside. your legs shook, hands gripping his hair for dear life. giving him a particularly hard tug, he groans into your cunt, the vibrations making you let out a moan.

the mixture of stimulations had you on the edge, he knew you were about to cum.

time almost seems to slow as he feels you clench around his fingers, your eyes flutter shut, gripping his hair for dear life as pools of fire seep low in your abdomen. his fingers continue to pump into you as you cum, wetness dripping down his chin and wrist.

it was probably obvious you hadn’t fucked anyone since you two broke up the way your pussy responded so well to him.

still, he doesn’t pull away, addicted to the taste of you. he was completely lost in your cunt until you pushed at his head, whining his name. he reluctantly pulls away, giving your cute clit a few more kisses before parting.

you both pant, his face glistening in your slick. you almost moan at the sight.

“you taste even better than i remember, baby.” his hands sooth down your thighs.

“don’t call me that.” you heavily breathe. he just chuckles, standing up. his firm hands grab your ass, giving it a firm smack, making you yelp.

“face the mirror. wanna watch you take my dick.” he pats your hip, encouraging you. you obligated, finally seeing yourself in the mirror. your lip gloss was completely smeared, making you pout a little. until your ex boyfriend comes up behind you, his hard on pressing against your ass. his hand wrapped around your waist, his head resting on your shoulder as your eyes meet in the reflection.

his other hand reaches to wipe the smeared lip gloss, cleaning it up for you. his fingers tap your lips impatiently, seeking enterence. your eyes never broke contact. you open your pretty little mouth, his two fingers sliding in. you groaned as you tasted yourself on them. he grinded himself against your rear, hiking your skirt above your hips.

“gonna let me fuck this messy pussy?” his fingers enter deeper into your mouth, almost making you choke. you nod, swirling your tounge around his digets.

“mhmph” you mumble around them.

“gotta tell me how much you missed me first.” he teases, removing his fingers to slowly undo the button of his pants. you roll your eyes.

“just fuck me-“

smack

your ass stings, you were sure there was gonna be a red mark the size of his hand. you whimper.

“what was that, pretty? use your words.” he purred into your ear, biting your earlobe gently, nibbling marks down your sensitive neck.

“fuck, i missed you so much, i need your cock so bad-“ you whine his name. “-i touch myself thinking about it- but nothing is as good as you.” you shamelessly confess, a smirk growing on his smug fucking face.

“good fucking girl.” he growls, taking his raging cock out from his briefs, his hand pressing down on your back so you bend over the sink to give him easier access.

you mewled as his leaking tip pokes through your enterence.

he slowly sheathes himself in, savoring the feeling of your hot walls contracting needfully around his cock. “god, it’s been so fucking long. it’s like she’s sucking me in.”

your fingers gripped the counter in front of you, your eyes focusing on his own. the way his face scrunched once he was burried balls deep inside of you. his deep breaths, the way his hair slightly stuck to his forehead from how much he was sweating.

you’re about to speak, but your words turn into moans of his name as he thrusts in and out of you, his hips slapping against your ass. your head rolls down to rest against your arms on the counter, but he doesn’t allow that.

his hand that isn’t wrapped around your waist goes to grip your throat, pulling you back against his chest.

“watch yourself get fucked by your future husband.” he grunts, his thighs burning from all the rutting, but he’d feel that pain forever if it meant he could be able to fuck you like this again.

you watch as your tits bounce through your shirt in the mirror, drool threatening to spill from the corner of your mouth. the mirror was big enough that you could see his dick pumping into you. obscenely wet sounds coming from where you two meet.

“o-oh fuck, feels s’good, don’t stop!” you moan out, staring at him in the reflection. he was so focused on the way you felt around him, he had almost forgotten you two broke up.

“oh god, baby. i fuckin' love you, need your pussy every day, can’t live without it.” he bites your shoulder, hard, making you groan. his hand moving from your throat to grope your tits through your top. his hips only slapped into you harder and harder, your vision going blurry when the head of his cock hits your soft spot. you let out chants of his name, your arms reaching back to grip his hair to bring him impossibly closer.

you stared at yourself in the mirror. the way he slid in and out of you with ease made you squeeze around him, prompting a groan from him. your hair was out of place from his rough treatment, marks down your neck and thighs. you couldn’t even think about having to explain this to your friends later.

“squeezing me so good. so perfect for me. gonna let me fill you up, hmm? walk around with my cum dripping out of you, let everyone know you’re fucking mine.” he thrusts with a bruising pace, your whole body rocking with the rolls of his hips.

“p-please yes! need it so bad!” your mind starts to blank, the only thing you could think about was the way he was pulsing inside of you, threatening to spill at any minute.

“touch yourself, baby.” he pants, his thrusts getting sloppier. he was so close, but there was no way he was going to cum before you. you nod, bringing a shaky hand to your ruined pussy, rubbing and pinching your clit the way you liked it. your mouth fell open at the overwhelming pleasure taking over.

“m’gonna cumm!” you whine until the only thing you can say is his name, over and over. just how he always loved it. he whispers dirty praises into your ear, talking you off the ledge. you force your eyes to stay on his own in the mirror. you hated how fucking hot he was.

waves of intense heated pleasure start to roll over you, moaning as your vision gets blurry with tears of ecstasy. “s’good!” you scream, tightening around him, making it hard for him to move. he curses as you grip his cock so tightly, milking him so hard he cums inside of you.

you pant as his thrusts get lazy and eventually slow to a halt. he didn’t want to pull out, but he knew he couldn’t just stay in here with you forever, no matter how much he wanted to.

he pulls out hesitantly, the mixture of your release dripping out of you making him let out a harsh breath.

you finally come down from your orgasm, completely fucked out. oh how much you missed his cock. and him too you guess.

he turns you around, giving your cheeks kisses before enveloping his mouth with your own. your tounges gently roll over eachothers, contrasting in comparison to how he was just fucking your brains out.

your phone lights up on the counter with a text from your bestfriend. you squint, reading the message.

‘bitch i’m leaving. don’t think i didn’t see you guys btw -_-‘

he wraps his arms around your middle, seeing the message.

“gonna come home with me?” he leaves even more love bites down your neck, making you sigh.

“…yea”

GETO, gojo, SUNA, atsumu, leon kennedy, toji, kuroo, dick grayson (sorry not sorry), your fav ;)

masterlist

[lale-txt]

BACKSEAT GIRL ; Atsumu x f!reader

As if he’s trying to memorize every dip and curve of your body, the shape of your soul. As if he doesn’t mold you like molasses underneath his fingertips, perpetuating his name into your being.

contains: f!reader, friends to lovers vibes, college au, mutual pining, heavily suggestive (hence me not tagging anyone from the gen taglist for this i'm sorry), non-sexual nudity (bathing together), no plot just one thousand words of atsumu miya being touch-starved

word count: 1.3k

You didn’t plan on taking him home.

But the words he murmured against the shell of your ear were a little too sweet and his kisses were a little too hungry; and maybe you’ve also dreamt a little too often about Atsumu Miya nudging your legs apart to slot himself between them while he pushes you against the nearest wall–until it all wasn’t a dream anymore. 

It feels forbidden. As if you’re not supposed to know what it feels like to run your fingers over the shaved part of his neck. Or how his canine teeth graze the skin on the side of your neck, leaving trails of faint red marks. Or the way his muscles flex when you slip your hands underneath his shirt to feel him closer. 

He’s just a guy who sits in front of you in class. Someone who occasionally asks you for a pencil or your notes just so he has a reason to turn around to you, who nudges your feet with his underneath the tables when you push them together for group work, who finds a lame excuse to linger behind when you’re too slow with packing up your bag after class, just so he can walk to the cafeteria together with you. 

Atsumu shouldn’t be here; with his hair still a little damp from the shower and naked from the waist up in your bed, in your arms. He’s like a weighted blanket on top of you, his face hidden in the small space between your neck and your shoulder, his hot breath fanning across your skin. Your fingers are tangled in his hair, giving it a slight tug whenever his shameless fingers dip underneath the waistband of your shorts, followed by an airy laugh against your collarbone. 

Just a kiss, you told yourself earlier in that dark corner you both found yourself in, his broad back shielding you from the eyes of anyone else at the party. It was as if he wanted you just for himself, something so easy to brush off as greedy. But there’s something else luring underneath the surface, underneath the carefully composed mask of brazenness he wears so well. You couldn’t figure out what it was, too dizzy from his kisses and his hands roaming your body, but now in the dim light and quiet of your bedroom you can see it so clearly. 

Atsumu is touch-starved.

It shows. There is his hand on the small of your back when he leads you outside through the crowd of people. His fingers interlaced with yours in the back of the cab after he reached over you to secure your seatbelt for you. The stolen kisses during the elevator ride up to your floor and the scowl on his face when the elevator door opened, interrupting you too soon. Him kneeling in front of you while he helps you out of your heels, nimble fingers brushing over your ankle before loosening the clasp for you. The love-drunk expression he gives you when you grab his chin between two fingers, tilting it up so he’d look at you. 

As if he’d ever take his eyes off you to begin with. 

Not when he unzips the back of your dress till it slips to the floor with a soft thud. Not when you push him towards the bed, his hands catching your hips to pull you on top of him. Not when you unbuckle his belt, his fingers digging in the flesh of thighs, his chest heaving with every breath you draw out of him. 

For someone who has never learned how to shut up in his entire life, Atsumu turns into a needy, whining mess underneath you. All coherent words seem to slip from his mind as badly as his self-composure. It’s like he’s pleading for your touch, to feel more of you, to have you fully, wholly, deeply. His hands grasp every part of you he can reach, sometimes gentle, mostly insatiable, always with utter adoration. As if you’re a dream that’ll crumble between his fingers when he blinks.

You bathe together afterwards–or you try, at least. It’s the night you learn that your bathtub is a little too cramped to hold you and someone of Atsumu’s size, but you make it work somehow with your back pressed against his chest, nestled between his legs, his hand splayed out over your stomach. His idle fingers draw small patterns against your skin and every now and then he leans down to press kisses against your shoulder, a low sound of affection rumbling in his chest when he does. 

He washes your hair for you even though you didn’t ask him to, slender fingers working through every bit of tension in your scalp. Part of you believes he does it just so he can charm out more of these sweet little sounds from you that he seems to love so much, but then he tips your head back to kiss you upside down, smiling against your lips, and you think that maybe you’re not the only one who has fallen in love a long time ago.

Atsumu holds perfectly still when you dry off his hair with a towel. He sits on the edge of the bathtub, legs spread to make room for you standing between them. Looking down, you try hard not to think about how he had you grinding against his thick thighs earlier but to be fair it’s impossible to forget how that made you feel, the pulsing still present. There’s his grin again and your stomach does a little flip. I love having you like this, Atsumu murmurs and tugs you closer to him by your waist before trailing countless kisses up from your stomach to the valley of your chest, honey colored eyes never leaving yours. 

As if he’s trying to memorize every dip and curve of your body, the shape of your soul. As if he doesn’t mold you like molasses underneath his fingertips, perpetuating his name into your being. 

If Atsumu was a braver man he’d tell you all about the way you make his heart stumble. How the thought of you being with anyone else makes his chest coil and tighten. That only you allow him a calmness so unfamiliar it scares him sometimes. But the words are stuck in his throat and just won’t come out.

Not yet. Not when it’s you.

Because with you everything is different. With you his prideful heart unravels so easily, finding shelter in your palms. You give all of his touch a meaning, as if everything before you was just hollow. Golden, he thinks. Your love feels golden. Shining bright like a hundred suns, igniting a flame within him. Atsumu has long fallen for you without even realizing it. He gets it now, sees it so clearly when you smile at him; that it’s you. It’s always been you. 

You both don’t bother getting fully dressed after your bath–there’s this unspoken unanimity that you won’t need these clothes for too long. Atsumu carries you over to the bed despite your protests, your laughter mingling with his when he drops you unceremoniously on the mattress and crawls on top of you again, half-crushing you underneath him. It’s a sound he wants to hear forever, paired with your playful shoves against his shoulder and your huffs and puffs, as if you didn’t hook your leg around his middle to keep him close to you. He kisses the side of your neck again, wondering where else he can leave his mark, and what waking up with you will feel like, and just how these three words will taste like once you lick them off his lips.

Ambrosial, he thinks. Just like you.

a/n: starting the year with an atsumu fic was not on my bingo card but here we are. @nekozaki hi ily this is mostly for you my liege

[a-pastel-edgelord]

Despite all the commonly held beliefs about him, Atsumu is not a bad guy. He knows this because he hasn't moved from his spot at his desk once today. And sure, maybe his eyes wander over to you and his mind keeps conjuring vague questions about how your day is going—regardless, he's not going to budge. He may end up burning a hole into his math work sheet from his staring, but it's a small price to pay.

He's taken you for granted. After you got a boyfriend. Little ole you, who never quite changed from being a snot-nosed brat in his mind until all of a sudden you couldn't hang out. The space you used to occupy (somewhere between Suna and Samu) is conspicuously empty. It's not right.

You don't eat lunch together anymore: instead, your stupid boyfriend (he's in Kita-san's class, and not even that good-looking by the way) collects you and off you skip to some obscure corner of the school where you guys probably make eyes at each other over your bentos. You don't walk home with him and Samu these days, no it's Whatshisname doing it in their place while holding your hand and calling your name with sugary familiarity. Like that guy knows something he doesn't. Well, jokes on your boyfriend because Atsumu knows how ugly you are when you cry or how spine tingling your whoops of glee are, or how your eyes absolutely sparkle when you eat something you like. Atsumu is willing to bet a month's worth of Osamu's cooking this scrub doesn't even know what your favorite café order is.

Fuckin' ridiculous.

But what's Atsumu supposed to do about it?? If you like this guy seriously, it's the least he can do to not get in the way of you being happy.

Are you happy? You deserve it, more than most people, in his opinion. Life hasn't been super fair to you, so the least it can do is give you someone who treats you well. Yeah, maybe it's just the universe balancing itself. This thought sustains him for a little while as the days pass.

Until he misses a spike serve in a particularly spectacular fashion. The ball ricocheted off the wall and out of the open gym doors. He rounds the corner of the gym, snatching up the wayward ball, only to look up at a sound. On the other side of the chain link fence that separates the gyms from the fields is your boyfriend with his tongue down the throat of the captain of the soccer team.

A grin, all teeth, cracks across his face. He can hear his heartbeat in his ears as blood rushes to his brain. His breath becomes shorter, and he checks himself before he starts hyperventilating. Atsumu Miya is not a bad guy, really he's not. After all, who wouldn't be happy to get what they want?

[mirrology]

𝒞ARE (.n) ꒰৯ ໒꒱ ━━    " the process of protecting someone or something and providing what that person or thing needs " wc: 373

── .✦ 𝒴our brothers are idiots. You know that very well, they get into scuffles almost daily and can never stop bickering. Every time you walk into their room they're already arguing about who knows what. Despite all of this, you know that they care about each other, you suppose that throwing insults at the other is their love language.

They care for each other, and they care for you too. Whenever you feel like your world is falling apart, they always know how to make you smile. Atsumu's hair ruffles might be annoying, but they bring you back to reality when you start to spiral and remind you that you’re not alone. Osamu’s rare home-cooked meals provide warmth and serve as a reminder that even when you don’t see it, there will always be someone who is concerned for your well-being.

Yes, your brothers may be idiots, but it didn't matter to you.

↳ Soft snores escaped your slightly open mouth as you gripped the soft blanket in your closed fist. Your eyes were puffy and red, and drying tear tracks shone under the dim light of a lamp. A calloused hand stroked your head, the same one that lulled you to sleep not too long ago. "Geez, they fell asleep pretty fast." Atsumu hummed with an amused grin, propping his arm on the plush bed as he lay on his stomach. Osamu nodded, continuing to provide you with comfort, even if you were asleep.

"They must have been exhausted." The grey-haired twin uttered, his eyes narrowing at the sight of your tear-stained face. Atsumu picked up on his twin's gaze, "D'ya think it was someone?" His face turned serious. Osamu only shook his head. It was a possibility, but they would have found out by now if someone was making fun of you.

The fake blond only raised an eyebrow, still not convinced. "We can ask when they wake up if it makes you feel better." Osamu huffed at his twin's judgemental stare, giving him a deadpan in retaliation. Atsumu nodded and turned to lay on his back, perhaps he could also take a nap in the meantime. Osamu rolled his eyes at the other, but he didn't mind looking over his siblings.

[justmywriting1313]

Soft (Osamu x reader)

Adult, business-owning boyfriend!Osamu is without a doubt the type of partner who would slowly yet firmly bring out the soft, tender-hearted childish part of you... and it would be without either of you even realising it... only when someone else pointed it out would it strike you both and even then it would hit you a lot more than it would Samu. Not because he doesn't care but because to him that is the natural order of the world. When and where else were you allowed to be soft, tender and just taken care of if not with your big beefy boyfriend...

It's a cold winter night, but you all are sitting by the riverside, a blanket spread out and a collapsible table in the back holding food and drinks. The little group consists of you, Osamu, Suna, Iwaizumi, Kageyama, and a bunch of the other MSBY boys. Everyone is either nursing a drink or munching on snacks prepared by you and your boyfriend.

Osamu is sitting in the center of the blanket between a tipsy Suna and an amused Iwaizumi. Feet flat on the ground, knees spread apart, with his body hunched over yours, which is tucked against him. You are sitting between his legs, head thrown back against his shoulder, all warm and cozy. You let Samu hold up most of your weight as you melt into his chest, your hands playing with one of his own. Outside of setting up your little picnic and grabbing the occasional drink, it's how you spend most of your night. Somewhere behind you, you can hear Sakusa's indifferent voice talking to Kageyama. In front of you, Atsumu, Kotarou, and Shoyou are bickering over the last tuna mayo onigiri.

Every few minutes, Samu pecks your temple, quietly whispering snarky comments about others or chuckling deeply in your ear. He occasionally peppers kisses along your shoulder, and each time, you smile and mumble your agreement. You watch Atsumu fail to get the last onigiri from Bokuto as the much larger man chomps onto the rice in one bite. You giggle at the blonde's dismayed expression, which immediately grabs his attention.

"Y/N, don't laugh at me… it's not fair, ya know… that onigiri was rightfully mine." "Awww, don't pout, Tsumu. Stop by the store tomorrow, okay? I'll keep an order prepared for you." "One, I'm not pouting; I'm brooding. And two… You're the best, sweetheart. Have I told ya that?"

You just giggle, watching Atsumu jump about in happiness before he comes to a standstill. He takes a seat opposite you and Samu, legs crossed together. His eyes are trained on you, and you can only look back at him and smile. He smiles back wide before he speaks in a voice much quieter than before,

"Ya know, Y/N, I have never seen ya look so… so soft… unguarded even… it's probably the cutest thing ever."

His words are not at all what you were expecting, and they leave you gobsmacked and shy. You feel your cheeks heat up at the attention, especially when the boys around you start to peer in. Iwaizumi bends over trying to peek at your face against Osamu's hunched-over body. When your surprised doe eyes meet his, he chuckles in agreement,

"You aren't wrong, Astumu… definitely cute."

Suna does the same on the other side, one hand coming and lightly pinching your cheek.

"Mhmm, it is adorable… you should keep her hidden, Samu, otherwise someone's going to steal her away." "Oh yeah? Ya one of those people, Sunarin?"

Finally, your boyfriend chimes in, you can feel his chest move as you bend back to look at him. You find his eyes already trained on you despite talking to Suna. His lidded eyes and soft smirk are an expression you would remember forever. You have never felt more loved and wanted in all your life, and you are quick to shy away from all the attention,

"You guys… go away. Smack around a ball or something."

You can feel Samu's chest rumble as he chuckles at your timidness while Atsumu jumps up to grab the ball and Shoyou. Suna pinches your cheek again, making you whine while Iwaizumi musses up your hair. Chatter seems to surround you again, but your mind is stuck on those words. They stay floating through your consciousness while the boys horse around, sometimes jolting when Osamu's body moves. The thoughts stay there while everyone packs, all of you too tired now and wanting to get home. It's all you can think about, even as Osamu grabs the heavy and lighter bags from your hand in one of his own, his other hand holding onto yours tightly. When you look up at him, he is already smiling down at you.

"Are ya okay, sweetheart? You've been quiet as a mouse, ya know."

You just hum, instead of leaning up to kiss the corner of his mouth. Osamu makes it easier by leaning down, quirking a brow at the soft gesture, but he doesn't say anything more. Instead, you walk down to the car, Sakusa helping to carry a drunk Atsumu along.

Soft. Soft. Soft… You sit in the passenger seat, looking out the window, with Atsumu and Sakusa in the back bickering with one another as usual.

You had never been soft…

You had never been soft in the sense that you were just never for others to see… Your softness, you had decided early on, was yours, and you would not give others a chance to abuse it because there were too many times where it had been… So when did it all change? When did it go from something secret to something celebrated?

Looking back, though, it was never really a question… Being soft with Osamu just happened as if you didn't know how to exist in any other way with him. You just couldn't… Not when he always bends down and ties your laces for you, nor when he always opens the car door and buckles your seat belt in because 'precious cargo' always needs to be strapped in. You didn't have a choice in keeping your softness hidden when you woke up to flowers on the table at least once a week, and when you asked Samu why, he just shrugged his shoulders and said pretty things should always be surrounded by pretty things. You didn't have a choice in hiding your tender heart when Samu has always had a hold on it, pulling it out of you and then keeping it on a pedestal for everyone to see but for no one else to touch.

Turning to look at him right now, one of his hands on the wheel, quietly humming something with his other hand on your thigh, gripping both your leg and your hand, you were hit with the intensity of Samu's love. And although his eyes never leave the road, you know he knows you're looking at him. You see him smile as the car comes to a stop in front of Atsumu's house. He turns to look at you, and when his eyes meet yours, he chuckles before leaning in to peck your lips. You have to stop yourself from deepening it because he has to help Sakusa get Atsumu to bed.

And when he comes back outside alone, your eyes immediately find him even in the dark outside. You roll the window down, his arms coming to rest on the door, head leaning in until you were so close you could feel his breath on your own lips.

"Ya sure you're alright mhmmm? Sure ya got nothing to tell me"

His nose comes to lightly nudge yours,

"Nothing to tell you Samu, promise, just been thinking that's all" "How about you tell me what about? might make me feel better" "Just thinking about how happy I am being yours thats all"

Your words knock the breath right out of Samu and he lets out a sounds thats something between a chuckle and a groan before he's leaning away to open your door. Before you can question him his hands find you face, lips landing on yours. Samu kisses you like its all he can do not to stop himself every second of every day, a desperate growl of approval leaving him as he does so before he pulls away and says,

"I will never get over how soft ya make me love, never!"

[asrichin]

// Making origami lucky star together. //

“i. had. enough.” he said with a fit of rage, throwing the crumbled up star at the wall. Apparently,he has been trying for a solid 15 minutes to try fold a perfect, lucky star that you have teached him earlier. Infact, you suggested that you both should make it together, and put it a jar for fun.

but after trying for so many times, just for it to be failed attempts. and he is NOT happy about it. That's how he ended up here, grumbling and folding the paper over and over again. While you were there, witnessing his crankiness over folding an origami that he can't do it perfectly (in his opinion.)

Then, you took his star next to yours. Holding both of it up infront of his face, which his frown deepens in response. “it look fine,babe—it even looks like mine! ” you assured him, smiling widely at him. His shoulder sagged, muttering incoherent words under his breath.

“how the hell do you do it like that? I can't get it right.” a frustrated groan came from his lips, his eyebrows furrowed while he focused on folding the paper carefully more this time. “practice makes perfect,” you simply replied, nudging his leg with yours with a smile.

he stayed silent, or morelike all of his attention is on the paper itself than you. Though, you can see he is giving his best, really.

Someday,sooner or later—he will get this shit right, be better than you. Just so he could give you a jar of perfect stars. (plus,your reactions.)

ATSUMU,Suna,Nishinoya,RIN ITOSHI...and your favs.

AN** I do not have any thoughts for chars, so up to you...

[husbandograveyard]

this is my contribution to the Secret Santa exchange organized by the wonderful @lale-txt ☃︎⋆꙳•❅*ִ This fic is written for @honey-deku - Hope you are having wonderful holidays, wishing you loads of love. I hope you enjoy this <3

Character: Atsumu Miya x GN reader Tags: the slightest enemies to lovers, the fastest slowburn, childhood friends to lovers, flashbacks and flashforwards, mentions of broken bones (nothing explicit, reader is in a cast), loads of pining and some awkwardness WC: 3544 [A/n]: first longer fic for Haikyuu!! This is terrifying but I did enjoy writing it. I'd love to do more Haikyuu!! work in the future.

One more time. 

You were feeling a strange mix of excitement and nerves when you walked through the gates of your high school for what was probably the last time. There was a light spring breeze, the sun peeking through the clouds just a little. It was only half an hour until your graduation ceremony would start, half an hour until the next chapter of your life would begin. Half an hour until you would say goodbye to a lot of your classmates as you all went off to different colleges, or jobs. 

You had gotten into the college of your choice and had some summer classes lined up to prepare yourself a little more, just to ensure you’d have a bit of a head start at the beginning of the school year. Most of your classmates had their plans all ready too, and you had noticed during conversations that almost everyone would be going in a completely different direction: jobs lined up in different branches, plans to spend a while travelling and just see what would come in their path, different schools and different courses. You would have to say goodbye to a lot of your classmates today, because you knew very well that adult life would just make it a lot harder to stay in touch. 

The thought was strange, considering you knew most of these people since kindergarten. You couldn’t stop your thoughts from wandering to one person in particular though. 

The first memory you have of meeting the Miya twins is a little hazy. It’s an early kindergarten memory after all, and if you’d ask all the people present in that class how those days went, all of you would be giving different answers.

What everyone would agree on though, was the fact that Osamu and Atsumu walked in hand in hand at first. They only knew each other, but with that, they already knew one more person than most of the kids in that class. It didn’t take too long for them to be separated by the teacher though. Not because they were clinging to each other too much, quite the opposite: for some reason either of them always managed to find a little thing the other would like to have, and brotherly love turned sour quickly when childlike jealousy came in the way. 

They were active kids, as if they were always made for athletics. Running around, playing with a ball, chasing each other and classmates… It was something you vividly remembered, because you weren’t as much of a rowdy child. You enjoyed playing with a select group of more quiet friends, or you’d even play by yourself, opting to just watch the other kids instead. 

Atsumu had called you ‘not fun’ once, when you had declined his invitation to play with him, his brother and a few of his friends. It was raining and you were wearing new clothes. Your mother had told you not to get them dirty or to play too rough. And you were a good kid, so you did as she had told you. But for that, you were ‘no fun’.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by the familiar voice of your best friend, and you looked back to see them waving at you. You ran over and you quickly hugged each other as a greeting. 

“Are you ready?” 

You nodded: “As ready as can be, I suppose.” 

Your friend laughed in response. “Well our homeroom teacher only made us practice the ceremony five times, so for something we barely have to do anything for, and only takes one hour, I think we should be fine.” 

You chuckled as well. 

“It’s not the ceremony I am worried about though. It’s-” 

“Saying goodbye”, your friend filled in the blank for you while you were unable to say it out loud just yet. It seemed silly. After all, it was normal that this was a moment of goodbye. And you’d still see your close knit group on the regular. It was just all the other classmates that you’d probably only meet in the grocery store, or on a reunion -if their undoubtedly busy adult schedule would allow them to attend. And mostly, it was him that you weren’t ready to say goodbye to just yet.

You weren’t quite sure what you would call Atsumu. A friend? A really close friend? Someone you felt so incredibly connected with that you felt like you’d be unable to breathe if you had to not be around him for the rest of your life? A soulmate? Just a guy? You sure had been acting like it was the latter, both of you too afraid to actually say something to each other. 

You were sitting on the couch, watching tv with your right leg stretched out in front of you and propped up on a chair. The cast on your leg is still white and pristine. You couldn’t wait to get back to school with a backpack full of markers, have your friends and classmates write their names on it, and draw silly doodles. You missed them a lot, but your recovery period had been necessary. When you fell, you had hit your head too, and the doctor had recommended you stay home a couple of weeks.

But now the worst of it was over, and the pain in your leg was sufficiently numbed by the painkillers -you were more bothered by the itching under the cast that you couldn’t reach-, and you were starting to miss school. You would have a lot of work catching up on classes you missed, and you weren’t looking forward to spending all your breaks inside. 

The doorbell rang, and you muted the tv, curious to hear who it might be. You didn’t have to strain your ears though, as your heard your mother say that you could be found in the living room, followed by her yelling in your general direction that there was a friend here to visit you. 

You were surprised to see Atsumu walk into your living room, holding a thick folder of papers that he put down on the small table next to the couch. 

“Hey… what are you doing here?” 

The question wasn’t accusatory, just filled with surprise. Of all your classmates, Atsumu was the last one you’d expect to be here, visiting you. Surely, you grew out of the ‘conflicts’ you two had had as young children, and you worked together okay whenever a teacher assigned you to each other for group work. But you wouldn’t necessarily call Atsumu a friend of yours. 

“I wanted to check in. You have missed a lot at school… so I brought my notes, and asked ‘Samu for his of the classes that I don’t take. He didn’t want to give them so I stole ‘em out of his locker. They may not be any good, but I figured it would be better than nothing?” 

You blinked in confusion before smiling. 

“Thank you Atsumu, that’s really kind of you to do.” 

He just shook his head in response, shrugging as if it was all nothing. He was about to speak up, when your mother came into the living room with two classes and some soda. 

“Atsumu, would you like something to drink?” 

“That would be really nice, thank you ma’am.” 

Your mother poured you both a drink and left you to catch up again. Later on you’d learn that Atsumu hadn’t actually planned on staying this long, he was on his way to volleyball training, something he had never missed a single session of. But he had been too polite to say no to your mother when she offered him that drink, and he felt bad for you when he saw how sad you looked when he told you stories of what you missed at school. 

He stayed almost until dinnertime, after catching you up on all the gossip and going over some of his notes with you, so he could be sure that you actually could catch up a little already. 

When he left to go home for dinner, volleyball practice long forgotten, you felt sad. You were looking forward to going back to school even more now. 

The ceremony itself was really uneventful, a little boring even. Everything was perfectly rehearsed, down to the moments where you were supposed to stand up and clap. You enjoyed some of the performances by your classmates, they were the highlight of the ceremony. But the speeches failed to grasp your interest, your attention fading and your mind instead focusing on Atsumu, who was sitting a few rows in front of you. 

You were going over all kinds of scenarios, everything you could say or tell him before you’d part ways in a few hours, mixed with all kinds of things he could say to you, or worse, not say to you. You were making yourself anxious, somehow your brain taking your nerves as fuel for all kinds of worst case scenarios. 

You weren’t sure what you were worried about, exactly. You had been hanging out with him in your friend group and just with Atsumu himself quite a lot. Especially the past few weeks, you were hanging out more and more, ignoring the teasing of everyone who was a mutual friend. Of course there were unspoken feelings, but that was the whole point of them, right? To be unspoken, so you could avoid possible heartbreak if they didn’t line up?

A few weeks ago, you had almost gotten there. And yet.  

You waved your parents goodbye as they left for a date night. You were pretty excited, and happy they trusted you enough to leave you and your friends alone for the evening for your monthly movie night. As you were about to prepare the snacks, you saw your phone screen light up a little too much. The group chat. It was way too active for just a few ‘I am leaving rn’ and ‘be there in 10’ texts. 

Your heart sank to your feet when you opened up the conversation, seeing that almost everyone was cancelling. It was the kind of mutual cancelling where one person had a legitimate emergency, and another from the friend group was on their way to help. One more friend was feeling under the weather (and had been for a while, so you hadn’t really expected them to show up), and then one more admitted that they weren’t really feeling it. All of these were valid, but you had actually been looking forward to hosting, and you were about to be really miffed when the doorbell rang. 

Atsumu was never the type to be late, and he had texted earlier today that he’d stop by right after practice, so he’d be earlier than the rest. He would help you out prepping a little. So there he was, bright and early, hair still wet from showering after practice, a cheeky grin on his face as he stepped inside, already talking about some great moves he did during practice and how he was looking forward to the movie night and- 

He only fell silent when he saw your frown, and noticed you weren’t matching his enthusiasm at all. He looked at you with a questioning look on his face and you responded before he could actually pose the question. 

“You didn’t see the groupchat? Movie night is cancelled.” 

You didn’t even try to hide the disappointment in your voice, and Atsumu frowned in response. 

“What do you mean? I am here, you are here, I see snacks at the ready and your parents are gone. Seems to me like we have everything for movie night ready.” 

“But it would just be you and me?” 

“Do you have a problem with that?” 

Atsumu was so fast with that retort that he had you stumbling over your words trying to form a coherent response. Of course you didn’t have a problem with it, he was just as much your friend as other people in the group were. But you had never actually hung out with just him for fun. You weren’t quite sure why you hadn’t, either. You liked him enough. Maybe you liked him a little too much to risk some quality time. But now fate had made it so, and you’d be a fool to say no to that. 

You needed a not-so-subtle elbowing in your side to get up in time to accept your degree. You hadn’t noticed the dean getting up and listing off the names, nor had you noticed that it had almost been your time. Your brain was on auto-pilot, clapping whenever you registered people around you were clapping, your thoughts completely drifted off to the movie night that had changed everything. 

Well it hadn’t changed much. It had confirmed a lot though, and now that your feelings were apparent and clear -at least for yourself- you didn’t really know what to do with them, especially since Atsumu seemed so incredibly normal about it all? He was super casual about the movie night, even when the two of you found out later that the group had kind of set this because they ‘wanted to give you two some bonding time’. He had barely reacted to all of the teasing when your cheeks heated up a little and you got flustered when people asked all kinds of questions about the ‘date night’ -that wasn’t really a date night to begin with-, and he had just pulled you away from the group: “let them have their moment.” It was sweet, it was protective, but it wasn’t clear what the intentions behind it were. He wasn’t blind: he must have seen how you reacted too. 

You went up to the front and accepted your degree, auto-pilot still running as you shook hands and smiled for the camera. The applauding people mass was just a blur in front of you as you joined your classmates for a group picture before returning to your chair. Two more classes after you and then it would be over. You’d have to say goodbye. 

The ceremony didn’t last much longer after that, and once the dean had wished everyone a bright future and had said his final congratulations, it was as if everyone got up from their chairs simultaneously, looking for friends and family to hug, group together to find parties to go to, creating an ocean of humans in which you felt like drowning, nailed to your chair, unable to move. 

“Hey” 

It was Atsumu’s voice that pulled you out of your trance. He was standing next to your chair, you were the final one in your section still sitting down. Startled, you shot up, nearly slamming your head into his, if not for his fast reflexes. Atsumu jumped back with a startled chuckle. 

“You hadn’t joined the group yet, and they wanted to grab a picture still, before the first of us have to leave.” 

You nodded. Right. A final goodbye. Maybe you were making this more dramatic than it was. And yet. You started walking, the noises of all the people having enthusiastic and emotional conversations drowned out by the thoughts in your head before it all went completely silent with Atsumu placing a hand between your shoulder blades to guide you through the sea of people. 

He had noticed you were out of it, but instead of saying anything about it he just took the lead, as he so effortlessly did. 

Your friend group was waiting for you, and the world suddenly was loud again as Atsumu let go, and you were pulled into hugs, pulled aside for selfies in small groups, and positioned for some group pictures. You smiled for all of them, a reflex more than a conscious decision, as you kept glancing towards Atsumu. You had to say something. If you didn’t, you’d regret it the rest of your life. If you didn’t, you’d never forgive yourself.

“I am leaving too you guys, training starts soon.” 

Most people had left by now. Off to their parties, their families, or just home, ready for their final break from school before college, work… 

Your group had stayed on school grounds a little longer. With no concrete plans, most of you were just talking and hanging out until it was dinnertime, or you’d be kicked off the school grounds, whichever came first. There were only a few of you left, and now Atsumu had announced he’d be the next to leave. Volleyball training, the usual suspect. 

“No!”

You had said it louder and infinitely more forceful than you had intended to, and all your friends looked at you with wide eyes, before some started snickering. 

“Looks like someone isn’t ready to say goodbye to you yet, ‘Tsumu.” 

The remark got followed by a chorus of giggles and chuckles, and you felt yourself getting flustered, cheeks heating up. You took a deep breath, giving yourself a moment to gather the words in your mind. 

“I’ll walk with you.” 

Atsumu nodded, his usual grin replaced with a soft smile as he held out his hand to you. You didn’t hesitate to take it, and the group -instead of the expected snickers and laughter- let out a collective gasp. They didn’t have time to find the words to comment on it before Atsumu had waved at them with a final goodbye, and started walking towards the gates with you. 

There was a loaded silence between the two of you, full of unspoken words, yet it didn’t feel uncomfortable. It just felt heavy, like you just had to lift it with a couple of sentences. 

“So..-” “I just..-” 

You spoke up simultaneously, chuckling awkwardly when you both stopped speaking together as well. Atsumu halted, lightly tugging your hand so you were now standing across each other. He did not let go, and you wished he never would.

“You go-” “How about you-” 

Another moment passed, filled with nervous glances and strained laughter, the both of you on edge. You could swear you could feel his rapid heartbeat through the palm of his hand in his, and you were wondering if he could feel yours. 

“I love you.” “I don’t want to miss you” 

Silence, only for a second. 

“I love you too.” 

You had never actually said goodbye. The three words that had been living in your heart for a while had been plenty. You spent some more time in front of that gate, before Atsumu had finally found the courage to kiss you: a soft, short pressing of lips together, the way only two high school sweethearts could awkwardly do. 

Then he had to leave for training -he was already running later. But he had promised to text you that night. And text you he did. 

Texts turned into phone calls, turned into you two messing up your sleeping schedules -and his coach getting angry at him for doing so. Summer break was filled with dates, and then it became time for you to pack up and get ready for your move to college. Atsumu helped you move, helped you decorate your dorm and you spent a few days exploring the city together already. 

You discussed what it would be like to practice long distance, and he said it was nothing but practice for when he inevitably would spend time overseas for volleyball. He was so incredibly optimistic about it, that you couldn’t help but believe him when he said you’d survive it, and that it would make your time together all the more sweet and special. 

He was right. 

It was not that long of a train ride from your college back to home, only 3 hours total. But three full hours felt like an eternity knowing Atsumu was waiting for you at the platform when you arrived. A stream of texts had let you know that he had interpreted your text wrongly, and that he had been waiting for half an hour already. 

He had made use of the time to acquire you both a little sweet treat and already send you updates on your plans for the evening -as if you both hadn’t planned a lot of things yet to maximize the time you got to spend together this time.

Your heart was beating just as fast as the time when you first confessed when you saw the station come into sight. Even though you had been together for a couple of years now, there was still nothing that could beat the feeling of seeing his grin whenever you had spent a few weeks apart. You stood up the second you felt the train slowing down, making your way over to the exit, impatiently waiting for the train to come to a halt completely and the doors sliding open. 

By some luck, Atsumu was waiting on the right spot on the platform, you spotted him immediately as you got up, momentarily leaving your luggage behind to sprint up to him and hug him close, peppering his face in small kisses before planting a big one on his lips. He wrapped his arms around you, chuckling and squeezing you lightly before speaking against your lips. 

“Welcome home.” 

[edelfie]

#𝓣𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘! who’s that girl?

Y/N L/N is a nobody. well, maybe that’s a stretch, but it’s nothing compared to the other words the media uses to describe you. washed up, irrelevant, talentless—any cruel word or insult has or will be thrown your way. but 10 years in the game has forced you to grow thick skin, even if the supposed quality of your music doesn’t suit it. so why is it that today, of all the days, you awake to the worst news imaginable—worse than all the name-calling and jeers?

or, you open twitter. it doesn’t go well.

BLIND ITEMS! —

## this millionaire’s daughter influencer is known for buying many of her followers across all platforms. however, brands and colleagues ignore it because of the fat check lining her pockets.

## this one-of-a-duo A-list model is having business disputes with his other half and sibling. apparently, he wants more creative control over their projects despite having been in the industry for less time. it’s so serious that legal litigation is in the works. [revealed: lev haiba, alisa haiba]

## the not-so-indie band’s newest album is rumored to be about a controversial figure in the industry. this figure has already produced an album about the lead singer years ago, however it failed to garner any publicity.

## off-the-charts wannabe pop star is postponing her next album because her team knows her career is over if she doesn’t chart well. after nearly a decade in the industry and without a single long-lasting, cultural hit, she’s better off waiting tables than writing music. [revealed: Y/N L/N]

gracetheestallion. the haiba twins fighting ?? i can’t believe, like actually

colormeshocked. if y/n doesn’t clutch up rq then i’m gonna be so sad for her — underdawg. honestly, it’s just not fair how she’s treated by the industry — garagoesgaga. it’s “unfair”? she literally only makes trash songs and hooks up with men in relationships, girl bye — underdawg. your misogyny is showing, ugly <3 — garagoesgaga. wowwwww insults, so mature. average iq of a y/n fan

read more…

NOTES! —

Two posts in one day? It's more likely than you think! Anyways, today's fundraiser is for the family and sons of Reyna and Javier. Reyna and Javier lost their lives in a fatal crash, leaving their three sons without parents. Of their sons, one of them was dependent on their parents as he has been wheelchair bound all his life. In this brief period of time, he has lost both his parents and his primary caregivers. The entire family is feeling the financial strain of the sudden loss, so every help counts. Please consider donating here on GoFundMe or copy the link and share it online!

If you're new here, or even if you're not since I'm just starting to post again, I strive to bring attention to different fundraisers in all my posts. I primarily focus on sharing the stories of individuals in dire need, such as refugees in Gaza or those experiencing sudden homelessness, however there is no comparison between struggles, grief, and loss here! So I also take the time to share the stories of families such as Reyna and Javier's, and would deeply appreciate it if you could show them some much needed love as well.

I won't say too much, but as someone who has had the cards stacked against them (being a poc, nonbinary, queer, a religious minority, etc.) and has experienced my own share of loss, I can say that while the pain doesn't feel the same, the knife digs itself into you either way. My family was privileged enough to afford a funeral for my grandfather, who recently passed, but with many other family members getting older in age and being taken by the devil that is cancer, it does make me nervous as to how we will make it through. Regardless, I just hope that my plea and the stories I share will implore you to help others—not out of moral or societal obligation or to save face, but out of humanity and compassion <3

SEVEN EVIL EXES + MASTERLIST + NEXT

© all rights reserved—edelfie (2024) // do not plagiarize, modify, copy, use, translate, or repost my work on other sites without permission

[kawacake]

LOVE IS A GAME

Masterlist

Paring: SunaRin x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Relationships, Suggestive content (pantie fucking, Reader had recently broken up with Atsumu, Cursing.

!!This will be made into a fanfic sooner or later!!

Listen to Don’t Wanna Fall in Love by KYLE while reading

SUNA Who stuck with you and helped you heal after you and Atsumu broke up.

SUNA Who spent the entire summer with you in your bedroom only leaving to go to his house and get more clothes.

SUNA Who pantie fucked you promising you that he won’t put it in if you don’t want him to but after would say we’re just friends and he didn’t want an actual relationship with you.

SUNA Who made you block Atsumu on everything and delete all the pictures of you and him to help you get over him quicker.

SUNA Who yelled at you after finding out that you and Atsumu were still in contact causing a fight between the two of you and ended with you throwing him out.

SUNA Who called you crying like a baby begging you to let him come back because he missed you and he couldn’t stand another second without you.

SUNA Who was now back in your bed holding you like nothing ever happened while his whole team flamed him and you for ‘talking’ to each other, but who cares because all he needs is you and all you need is him.

A/n: Haii so I’ll only be posting these for the next few days because I’m still working on a bunch of one-shots I have sitting in my GoogleDocs and I’m also working on my fanfics on Wattpad and if you wanted to check them out my Wattpad user is chosowife 🤧(Ntm it’s been my user since 2020), but yeah i will try and publish the one-shots as soon as I finish with them but yeah see you on the next post and please leave a heart and a comment byee mlll💕

[sippy--sippy]

Page Turner (Kageyama Tobio x Reader) Part 2

-

Summary: You attend Kageyama's championship game and meet his rowdy friends. Word Count: 5,238 Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

A/N: Fanart credit to the Haikyuu pookie bear herself: Loony (Z) on TikTok and freaka_loonyz on Instagram. Go support her work, I drool over every post.

-

You knew volleyball had a burst of popularity in the past couple years thanks to the rumor of a “monster generation” of new players, but the sheer volume of people flocking to the gymnasium for this championship game was actually astounding. Every parking lot around the area was packed to the brim, any street parking available was filled bumper to bumper and bus and train loads of people were arriving every few minutes. Luckily, you had the sense to take a bus yourself instead of driving because you would’ve turned right back around and gone home the second you saw how congested everything was.

Currently, you were planted on the edge of a fountain that sat right outside the front doors of the stadium, waiting for your escort. Kageyama was unfortunately not able to meet up with you before the game started so he told you one of his friends was going to meet you outside the stadium to help you to your seat. He had failed to give you a name or description of the person you were supposed to meet so you weren’t entirely sure how you were supposed to find his friend. 

The swarms of people around you seemed never ending. The match was scheduled to start in a half an hour but that didn’t stop people from rushing inside like they were about to miss the game. Lots of people wore or brought Adler’s merchandise. Jerseys, t-shirts, hats, flags and posters, some merchandise donning specific players names and numbers. You were surprised to see an alarming amount of people with Kageyama jerseys and signs. Maybe you should’ve run to one of the merchandise booths and purchased a shirt or something beforehand since you seemed to be one of the only people here without an Adler’s souvenir. 

Fiddling with the string of the white hoodie you wore, you sat and watched the masses as you waited for Kageyama’s friend to hopefully find you. 5 minutes passed. Then 10. Then 10 more. The large concrete entrance to the building was now almost completely empty, as most had gone inside to find their seats. The game was supposed to start in 5 minutes and you were STRESSED. Maybe Kageyama’s friend forgot they were supposed to meet you here and was already inside. It shouldn’t be that hard to find your seat on your own, right? Plus, if you had trouble you were sure there was a worker somewhere that could show you the way.

Standing up, you brushed off your black jeans and started to walk towards the front doors. Before you could get there, the sound of someone’s shoes slapping on the pavement rang in your ears. You turned around and saw someone running towards you. It was a man wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses, sweatpants and a black and gold t-shirt, a black athletic jacket gripped in his hand. 

As he got closer, you could see he was actually quite short. Despite his smaller than average stature, you could tell this boy never skipped the gym. His arms were beautifully tanned and toned, and his tight t-shirt hugged him in all the right places. What was it with these men you’ve been meeting lately? Were they trying to give you a heart attack?

When the man approached you, he skidded to a stop and heaved a sigh of relief. He was horribly out of breath, sweat beading on his forehead. How long had he been running? He hunched over and put his hands on his knees, trying to slow his breathing. 

“I... I’m so sorry ... that I’m late,” each pause in his sentence was a gasp of air. “I missed the bus… so… I had to run here.”

With a heave, he straightened up and sighed. He took off his sunglasses and slipped them to rest on his shirt. He then took off his hat so he could wipe at his forehead with the back of his hand. You were surprised to find he had a shocking head of orange hair. He set the hat back on his head and held out his hand to you with a beaming smile.

“You’re (Y/n), right? My name is Hinata Shoyo! It’s nice to meet you! Tobio’s told me a lot about you and he’s very happy you’re here!”

You shook his hand in wonder at both this guy’s joyful personality (completely opposite of Kageyama’s) and his statement. Kageyama was talking to his friend about you? You turned red at the thought. 

“I am (Y/n) and it’s nice to meet you Hinata! And don’t worry about being late, I’m just glad you made it here in one piece! I’ve missed the bus before and it screws up my whole day. How far did you have to run to get here?”

He swats the air as if brushing off your concern, “Just a couple miles, no big deal!” He looks down at the watch that sits on his wrist and his eyes widen. “Crap! The game starts in a couple minutes, we gotta hurry so we don’t miss their entrance!”

He snatches your hand and starts jogging through the open doors as if he didn’t just run a half marathon to get here. Taking an immediate right as soon as you walked inside, he led you up a flight of stairs and to a set of doors that lead into the stadium. Hinata held the door for you and you stepped into the most crowded sports event you had ever been to. Almost every seat in the balcony was taken and the energy was palpable. Luckily, the teams weren’t on the court yet but that didn’t mean the crowd was any less rowdy. 

You followed Hinata down the stairs that split the dense crowd to the very first row of seats overlooking the whole court. Kageyama really did give you a ticket for one of the best seats in the whole gym. The section was right in the middle of the two sides, which will give you the perfect vantage point to watch both teams. 

Once you both reach the bottom, a chorus of “hey’s” rang out from the people who were already sitting in the row. Getting a look at the four people who said hello, you almost fainted. 

What were they putting in the water on this side of Tokyo? 

Four more gorgeous men were inspecting you curiously from their seats. Two of them were giving you the biggest grins, one gave you a small smile and the last man had a black mask covering half his face so you couldn’t get a good read on his facial expression. 

Hinata stepped aside and presented you as if you were a trophy. “Everyone meet (Y/n)! This is Tobio’s friend. (Y/n), this is Sakusa, Atsumu, Bokuto and Akaashi. We’re all good friends of Tobio’s.”

You studied each man as Hinata went down the line of them so you could try to remember their names. Sakusa, who was sitting in the aisle seat you stood next to, was the one wearing the mask. He had wavy black hair and two prominent moles above his right eyebrow. From what you could see of his face, he didn’t seem like he was too thrilled to be there. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his long coat and he was shrunken into himself, seemingly touching as little of the chair as possible. He gave you a small nod when Hinata introduced him but didn’t say anything.

The guy sitting next to him, Atsumu, was much more lively. His hair was mostly covered from a hat that he was wearing backwards but you could see small hints of pale yellow hair peeking out. He leaned over Sakusa to shake your hand (Sakusa grumbled in annoyance) and gave you a flirty grin.

“Nice to meet ya, sweetheart. I’m Atsumu. Glad to hear that Kageyama’s not completely hopeless in his romantic life-“

Sakusa stomped on Atsumu’s foot which promptly stopped his comments. Atsumu whined in pain and hunched over to hold in his yell of agony.

Two empty seats sat in between Atsumu and the next man which you and Hinata shuffled in to take. You took off your heavy gray coat before settling down in your chair between Hinata and Atsumu. After settling your coat into your lap, you leant forward to formally meet the other two.

“Hey hey hey! Nice to meet you (Y/n)! I’m Bokuto and this is Akaashi.” he slung his arm around Akaashi’s shoulder, forcing him to lean forward to see you. Akaashi gave you a gentle smile which you returned.

Bokuto was the largest of the bunch, hefting around a broad set of beautiful shoulders that almost made you drool. He also wore a hat but it didn’t do a very effective job of hiding his eye-catching black and white hair. He was the only one of the four that wore something Adler’s themed, which was a scarf with their team logo on it. 

Akaashi was the most classically handsome of them. Dark hair, blue eyes and a set of glasses. He seemed much more soft spoken compared to his counterpart. You could’ve sworn you’d seen him before too.

“Nice to meet you both! This is the first time I’ve ever been to a professional volleyball game so I’m very excited to be here. It was so nice of Kageyama to give me a ticket. I hope I’m not a bother to any of you. I’m pretty clueless so I might have some questions.” you lightly laughed.

Both Bokuto and Akaashi smiled and Bokuto opened his mouth to say something but Atsumu cut him off. Atsumu draped his arm over the back of your chair and leaned in so he could be a part of the conversation.

“Volleyball virgin, huh? Don’t worry beautiful, any questions you have can be directed to yours truly-“

Sakusa stomped on his foot once more and Atsumu jolted back in his seat, squeezing his eyes shut and sucking in air through his teeth to stop from screaming. 

“Could you stop doing that?! I need this foot y’know!”

Sakusa paid him no mind. Akaashi spoke up from your right. “Ignore him. Anyways, you work at that library next to the University right? I went to school there and came to your library to find some books for class sometimes. Your library was always my favorite, very clean and inviting.”

You thought he looked familiar! Especially with his looks. Not an easy face to forget. “Yes! I thought I recognized you. I’m glad my library made you feel that way, that’s what I strive for! Kageyama told me something similar.”

Hinata nodded and smiled at you. “That’s where you guys met, right?”

You nodded in turn. “Yep!”

Before any more conversation could be had, an announcer started speaking over the loudspeaker and the crowd went nuts. Honestly, you couldn’t hear a word the announcer said but eventually the team from America started walking out in a single file line to the court. They had red uniforms and varied in size, hair and skin color. All of them looked very menacing as they walked out.

Once they were lined up, the crowd went crazy once again as the Adlers started making their entrance. Everyone around you stood up so you followed their lead, clapping as the team walked out. Atsumu, Hinata and Bokuto were hooting and hollering. The team walked in number order so Kageyama was one of the last to walk out but once he did, your heart stopped.

You thought he looked good in the grainy picture you saw on the poster, but seeing him in person in uniform? Your knees were jelly.

He had the same stoic face, hair and eyes you were used to seeing. The rest of his body though? It was a real treat to see him without a giant coat and baggy sweatpants. His jersey top was tight in all the right places, showing off just how muscular he really was. His shoulders were broad, biceps big, thighs even bigger. He was wearing knee pads and it looked like some of his fingers were wrapped in white tape.

He walked with a confidence you were envious of, and if he really was one of the best setters in Japan then he’s earned the right to look and be that confident. Once the team had lined up on their side of the court, the Adler’s gave the American team a bow as was customary. The Americans gave them a bow back to show their respects before they broke formation to ready up. 

Before the Adler’s began, they shuffled over to line up in front of the section of crowd you sat in. You watched as they all bowed in unison and yelled, “Thank you for coming!”

They straightened and Kageyama instantly found you in the crowd, front and center cheering for the team and watching him in awe. You both made eye contact and you gave him a smile and a small wave. You didn’t expect him to do anything back but the tiniest of smiles graced his lips and he gave you a small wave in return.

Your face burned fiercely, even more so when Atsumu elbowed your arm teasingly. It didn’t help when you took notice of the multiple news cameras stationed everywhere that definitely caught that. Oh god, hopefully the media doesn’t read into that too much.

The team broke to head to their starting positions. Most of the team went to the bench, but 6 of them took their spots on the court, including Kageyama. Beside you, Hinata hummed in confusion.

“Tobio is starting as the server? He’s usually in the setter position at the start of the game, right guys? Why is he serving first?”

The others agreed that he didn’t usually start the game serving but couldn’t see why the team would change their starting lineup for the championship game. After thinking for a second, Atsumu folded his arms and scoffed.

“I have a hunch why he’s serving first, vain bastard.” he grumbled.

You glanced at him curiously and watched Kageyama pace back behind the starting line. He bounced the volleyball on the floor a couple times, then spun the ball in his hands. Some sort of serving ritual, you guessed.

The crowd went quiet as the referee standing on a platform next to the net blew the starting whistle. Everyone watched with bated breath as Kageyama took his time, blowing out a calming breath before tossing the ball into the air. He took a couple steps, gaining speed as he jumped high into the air and hit the ball with so much power you could barely see the ball as it smashed down into the American’s court and bounced out.

The stadium went ballistic with cheers. Your volleyball knowledge was slim, but you could tell that was an insanely powerful serve. If you got a good look at the volleyball, there would probably be smoke coming off of it.

The men around you were cheering just as loud as everyone else, Bokuto and Hinata were especially rowdy. You were in awe. Kageyama looked so sure and powerful when he served. His form looked perfect. You instantly considered taking up professional photography just so you could capture those beautiful poses.

Everyone quieted down again as Kageyama returned to his serving position. He went through the same routine, bouncing and spinning the ball before serving once more.

Another no-touch service ace!

The crowd was inconsolable now. You were jumping up and down in happiness. You guessed getting no-touch service aces were not easy to do in the professional league. The opposing professional teams were too skilled at defense to allow more than one or two a game. 

But Kageyama managed to get 5 total service aces to start the game before the opposition was finally able to dig the ball and start volleying.

You didn’t doubt the American team was amazing at volleyball; they wouldn’t be here if they weren’t.  But something about Kageyama’s serves were fierce and according to Hinata, he’d never seen Kageyama have a serving streak like this before, especially since going pro.

As the play went on, you noticed Atsumu slouch in his chair and huff. “Show off.”

Hinata leaned over to you and whispered (not very quietly), “Tsumu and Kageyama have been competing for Japan’s best setter title for years. Kageyama always wins so Tsumu gets a little salty when he makes a good play. He’s just a little jealous-“

“ZIP IT SHO!”

You perked up at Hinata’s words and turned to a pouting Atsumu. “You play volleyball too?”

The sourness Atsumu was displaying vanished at your question and he ‘very casually’ put his hands on the back of his head, leaning back in pleasure. “Sure do, gorgeous. You’re looking at one of the nations best-”

“I play too! I’m a wing spiker!” Bokuto chirped to your right, a cheesy grin on his face. Hinata nodded and motioned to himself and pointed down at Sakusa.

“Us too! Omi and I are wing spikers as well. We’re all on Japan’s MSBY Black Jackals team!”

Well, this was shocking news. It made sense though, seeing how physically fit they all were and if they were good friends with Kageyama you assumed they met through volleyball. You had heard about the MSBY Black Jackals before on the news. They sounded like a rowdy, go-lucky team who’s games were extremely fun to watch. And now knowing these guys were on the team, the rumors were probably true. 

Now that you knew, you noticed that they weren’t necessarily being very discreet about their professional volleyball status. Hinata was wearing a MSBY t-shirt and the hat Atsumu wore had the MSBY logo plastered on the front of it.

“Oh! Really? That’s awesome! You guys will have to tell me all about how you guys met and started playing volleyball. I’ve heard MSBY is pretty famous for their exciting games, I’ll have to come watch one some time!”

They all agreed, promising you front row tickets to come see them play. Atsumu commented on how they could give Kageyama a ticket too and the two if you could make a date out of it which made your face burn. 

Speaking of Kageyama, it was hard for you to take your eyes off him as the set continued. His sets were unlike anything you’d ever seen. They were so calculated and clean. He sent the ball perfectly to the spikers almost every time, tapping into each player's potential. He made it look so easy, but you knew this was the outcome of years of training and practice. Not only were his sets beautifully executed, any spikes, receives or blocks he did were also perfect. 

Akaashi, who was comfortably settled under Bokuto’s arm that was draped across his shoulders, mentioned that Kageyama was playing better today than he has in quite a while. Not only was he doing well, it seemed his whole team was on their game. Especially the big burly guy, Ushijima and the short, springy white haired guy, Hoshiumi. 

The Adler’s won the first set with ease, prompting the crowd to cheer wildly. The team gathered in a circle on the sidelines to have a little time-out before they had to start the second set.

You watched with clenched fists as Kageyama took a big swig of water, sweat dripping down his neck and soaking into the small white towel that was thrown over his shoulders. He then used that towel to wipe his damp face. While he did so, you noticed him glance towards your section.

Lord, you hoped he didn’t see you ogling at the sight of him. 

Of course, the all observant Kageyama did notice and the bastard had the audacity to wink.

Your hands instantly started sweating and Atsumu blanched at the interaction. “When did Tobio get so good at turning on the charm?! He’s got the same personality as a potted plant. What have the Adler’s been feeding him?”

The start of the second set wasn’t as successful as the first; the American team seemed to have adapted to Kageyama’s monster serves. Both teams were scoring points pretty evenly and before you knew it, it was a deuce. 24-24, the first team to get two points over the other wins the set.

The crowd was standing again, watching anxiously as the little wing spiker, Hoshiumi, went up against a 3 man block. You were sure his spike was about to get stuffed, but to your surprise he jumped higher than the block and spiked it into their court. How someone could jump so high was beyond you.

Now it was 25-24, one more point and they’d win the championship! Kageyama was in the setter’s position, carefully watching the opposing team with his hands on the back of his head as Ushijima served the ball. It was a brutal serve but the Americans dug it up, beginning the volley. They managed a fierce spike but the Adler’s libero managed to save it. The ball arced perfectly to Kageyama as he prepared to set it.

You tried to pinpoint who he would send it to, who would have the best chance at scoring the winning point. Hoshiumi seemed to be a good choice as he ran forward to the net, as well as one of their other teammates Romero who was another fierce spiker and the team’s ace. 

You held your breath as Kageyama jumped to set the ball, watching in what felt like slow motion as the ball settled into the cradle of his slim fingers. However, surprising everyone in the arena, Kageyama’s set turned into a dump. 

No one on the other team could react fast enough as the ball fell in their court and Kageyama gracefully settled back on the floor. For the 100th time that evening, the crowd erupted. Kageyama’s team jumped on him, mussing up his hair and slapping him on the back.

You were jumping up and down, cheering just as loud as those around you. The men around you were also showing their approval in their own ways. Hinata was doing the same as you, Bokuto was yelling praises, Akaashi was politely clapping, Sakusa wasn’t doing much but had at least stood up with everyone. Atsumu was clapping but it seemed a little sarcastic.

“Tobio’s got a pair, I’ll give him that. Finishing the whole game with’a dump? Risky move.”

“He’s amazing!” you said. Atsumu groaned and tilted his head back.

“Eugh, whatever.”

Once both teams had pulled themselves together, the crowds politely clapped for the American team and the good game they played. Then the Adlers lined up to bow to the crowd again in thanks for the support. Kageyama seeked you out again in the stands and softly smiled as he bowed. 

The stands started to thin out as the spectators left. You and the boys stayed for a while, chatting about their volleyball careers and learning more about them while they asked you questions about your life. 

Once most of the people had left and the teams had gone to the locker rooms to freshen up, the boys led you outside of the court and down to the large front entrance of the building. You wandered over to look at a large trophy case that lined the wall. To your surprise, Kageyama was in a couple of the pictures holding a trophy. The Adler’s were quite the powerhouse team, it seemed.

You felt someone sidle up to you, and you turned to smile up at Kageyama. He was still wearing his white uniform and GOD were his thighs always that big? He wore a white jacket over the top of his jersey and his hair was messier than normal, like he had hastily run a towel through it. You catched a whiff of cologne that had a slight undertone of sweat. Why that attracted you to him so much more, you weren’t sure.

“Hey! You were amazing out there! You’ll have to give me a list of your games because I want to come to all of them if they’re all like that!” you exclaimed. 

Kageyama watched you carefully and nodded seriously. “I can do that. I can’t promise they’ll all be that close, but you can come to any games you want and I’ll make sure you get front row seats.”

You blushed at his intensity. “T-That would be awesome!”

You didn’t know what else to say. Kageyama looked you over and held out something in his hand. “I got this for you.”

It was some sort of article of clothing. Taking it from him, you opened it up and couldn’t help but grinning. It was an Adler’s jersey, a professional looking one at that, not one that was sold in bulk at the merchandise stands. Low and behold, instead of being a generic team jersey, Kageyama was written in bold letters on the back with the number 20 printed loud and proud on the front and back.

“SUBTLE, TOBIO. REAL SUBTLE.” Atsumu yelled from where the others stood across the room. Sakusa yanked on Atsumu’s hat, pulling his head back which made him yelp.

Kageyama was bright red and grumbled strings of curses at Atsumu. Surprising him and even yourself, you wrapped your arms around his torso in a tight hug as a thanks. Kageyama tensed, not knowing what to do for a second. You didn’t even notice, too busy reveling in how solid his body was.

Hesitantly, Kageyama wrapped his arms around your shoulders. You even felt him gently rest his cheek on top of your head. You wished you could stay like this forever. He was so warm and comfortable, even though he was a brick wall of muscle.

“Thank you. For the jersey and for inviting me. I had a great time! Your friends are really fun too.”

He pulled back from the hug and held you by your shoulders, suddenly looking very concerned. “They didn’t say anything weird did they? Did Atsumu hit on you? I told him that if he did, he’ll never be a setter on the Olympic team ever again.”

You laughed and brought your hands up to lightly hold his wrists. “They were all very sweet, even Atsumu. He called me sweetheart once but that’s-“

A glint of pure fury shone in Kageama’s eyes as his head snapped over to Atsumu. All of the men had been trying to make it not look obvious that they were trying to stare and eavesdrop on your conversation. A visible shudder of terror shook Atsumu as Kageyama, gentle as one ever could, moved you to the side then shot towards Atsumu like a bullet. You could’ve sworn you saw flames on the ground as he sprinted to the artificial blonde. Atsumu let out a yell of terror as he took off in the opposite direction, Kageyama inches behind him.

“What did I do?!” You heard Atsumu yell as they ran down the hall. You smiled and walked back to the other men, who were also chuckling.

Hinata motioned to the jersey you held in your hands. “That’s one of his actual jerseys! He must like you a whole lot to just give that to you right out the gate.”

You inspected the jersey in your hands and rubbed your fingers over the silky fabric. If you weren’t surrounded by Kageyama’s best friends, you would’ve dug your nose into it to see if it smelled like him. “I’ve never owned a jersey before, real or not.”

Sakusa, surprisingly, spoke up. “You should tell him that. He’ll eat that up.”

You smiled as you watched Kageyama chase Atsumu down, yelling things you couldn’t quite make out. This group was fun, you decided. Hopefully you’d be able to see them more, and you hoped Kageyama wouldn’t become a stranger.

-

You held your hands over your mouth as you watched the Adler’s and Black Jackals fight furiously over the volleyball. It wasn’t a championship game, or any type of game that held any real meaning in a tournament but that didn’t make the game any less intense. Knowing their rivalry and the companionships each team had, had you on your toes. The Adler’s were, yet again, one point away from winning. The teams had gone back and forth for the third and final set, fighting to see who could get two points over the other first.

This volley was lasting forever, and each team was getting desperate. The teams were getting sloppy. Akaashi, who stood beside you, pointed out as much, flinching when Bokuto almost missed a rushed set by Atsumu completely. It was hard, routing for both teams. Unfortunately, only one team could win and by the large jersey you wore, anyone could guess who you were slightly favoring. 

Ushijima dug up the ball where Bokuto spiked it, however the power of the spike made his receive sloppy, sending the ball sailing towards the front left corner of their court. That didn’t stop Tobio from running towards the rogue ball. It was outside the court by now but still on their side. A set from this far away wasn’t easy to do, but Tobio always managed. A perfect set sent right to the Adler’s ace, Romero. MSBY had a three-man block on him, but Romero perfectly spiked the ball in such a way that it bounced off Sakusa’s fingertips and fell out of bounds. 

Springing to your feet, you whistled loudly and shouted your praise at your team. Another great game. You never got tired of games that made your blood pressure reach dangerous levels. MSBY lined up to bow to the crowd, and you didn’t hesitate to scream your praises for them too. After bowing, Hinata and Bokuto waved happily up at you (Bokuto blew a kiss to Akaashi first of course). Atsumu sent you a wink, which you rolled your eyes at. Sakusa gave you a small nod in hello. The black jackals then left to finish up for the day while the Adler’s took their place on the line.

Your gaze met Tobio’s soft blue stare as he looked up at you, a little smile on his face just for your viewing pleasure. He bowed with the rest of his team before standing up straight and giving you one last look before he had to go to the post-game huddle. You copied Bokuto’s move and blew him a small kiss. Tobio, sweet as ever, very nonchalantly pretended to catch it. The golden engagement ring that swung from a chain around his neck glinted in the light of the gym as he turned to run back to his team.

Not a day goes by that you don’t thank the gods above for sending that handsome man to your library.

-

A/N : “Atsumu is such a loser” I say as I trip and fall, hundreds of pictures of Atsumu falling out of my giant coat pockets. But yeah Atsumu fic is in the works, as well as a Brazil Hinata fic too because I’m such a MSBY whore. The last part (probably) to this story is already finished, just in the editing process and psst it’s smut. Anyways, thanks for reading! Like comment and subscribe

[ravenslvt]

☆ r/AITA for fucking my best friend’s girl? ☆

it’s not my fault! she’s just so hot! (multiple x f!reader)

cw: smut! mentions of cheating! oral m receiving, sort of public sex, rough sex! degrading! unprotected sex!

it wasn’t his fault, really! you just looked so hot in your little outfit. the way your perfect tits looked in that cute top.

so when your boyfriend was out of town, and his best friend spotted you at a party, he obviously had to come by to say hi! he totally didn’t purposefully spill a drink down your shirt, apologizing profusely and taking you into the bathroom to help you clean it off!

he also didn’t mean to get hard at the sight of you unbuttoning your top, being left in a lacy bra so you could clean off your shirt.

it also totally wasn’t his fault when he didn’t stop you from ‘accidentally’ brushing your perky little ass against him in your skirt, letting out a soft gasp.

he also couldn’t help but watch in awe as you get on your pretty knees in front of him, pulling down his pants by the waistband to lick him through his boxers.

he groans, hands gripping in your hair, letting out a stream of curses when you leave a wet spot of your saliva on his boxers, giggling and pulling his underwear down his legs to reveal his throbbing cock.

“you’re so big” you practically whine, mouth watering at the sight of you boyfriend’s best friend’s ragingly hard arousal right in front of you.

you smile when he pathetically moans when you take his tip between your perfectly glossed lips, tongue running over his slit, circling around it.

he was like putty in your hands. at this point. you could ask him to do anything and he’d do it without question.

you take him as far as you can in your mouth, using your hand to stroke whatever didn’t fit. he uses his grip on your hair to move you up and down, like his perfect little slut.

your cunt throbbed around nothing, imagining what he’d feel like inside of you, stretching you out completely. you clench your thighs to relieve the almost painful sensation of how badly you needed him.

he groans out loud when you use your free hand to gently play with his balls, his hips thrusting into your mouth.

“oh f-fuck, you’re so hot.” his grip only tightens, using your mouth as he pleases. you almost gag when his tip touches your throat, eyes starting to water from his size.

“please let me fuck you-oh god, fuck!” his voice is horse, forcing you off his cock despite your pout.

you stand up on wobbly legs, red marks on your knees from the hard ground. you look up at him with a flushed face, heavily breathing.

this was too far, you’re his best friend’s girlfriend after all! so why did he lean in to capture your mouth into a hot kiss, your back pressed harshly against the bathroom sink. his hands moving up to grope your tits through your pretty bra, making you mewl into his mouth.

you only get more wet from his touch, one of his hands moving from your breast down to your panties under your skirt, lifting it up to rub your clothed clit.

you gasp when he pushes your flimsy panties to the side, bringing two fingers to run up and down your soaked folds before prodding them inside your needy hole. you let out a moan of his name when his long fingers pump in and out of you, fucking you.

you pull away from the kiss, head resting against his shoulder. he was fingering you like a fucking pro. you were embarrassed at how wet you already were, trying to hide your face.

he pulls back a bit, using his other hand to hold your chin to force you to look at him.

“don’t hide your pretty face from me.” he coos, kissing down your neck. not giving a single fuck and leaving dark hickies in his wake.

you whine when he curls his fingers inside of you, making you practically see stars. your hands grasp his arm, an overwhelming wave of pleasure washing over you.

“g-gonna cum” you cry out his name.

“yeah? gonna cum around my fingers? go ahead, pretty.” he chuckles, his pace only getting faster as you try to rock your hips more into him, cumming around him.

he watches the way your face scrunches up so cutely in pleasure, whining his name for more. it was even better than he’d imagined.

that’s how you ended up pressed against the bathroom counter, his cock piercing you so deliciously as he watched your reactions in the mirror.

your hands gripped at the edges of the counter, eyes rolling as he fucks you so perfectly.

“s-so big” you whine, his grip on your waist only getting tighter to hold you in place.

“i know. take it like the good little whore you are.” he teases, chuckling at the way your body can barely hold itself up. he has to bring an arm around your middle to keep you upright, staring at yourself in the mirror in front of you.

“what’s wrong, pretty? your boyfriend never fuck you this good?” he purrs, his thrusts only growing faster and harder. you just shake your head.

you notice your smeared makeup. lipgloss all over your and a little on his mouth, mascara running down your cheeks. you were fucked out.

his eyes glued to the way your tits bounce with every thrust. he urges you to lift your leg against the counter so he could fuck you deeper, the new angle making you whine out.

“gonna cum inside, let it drip out of you for days so he sees how well another guy fucked you.” his words only make you stifle a moan, almost ashamed at the fact you were fucking your man’s best friend. but his dick was just too good to care.

the way he was thrusting in and out of you with ease, his huge cock ramming into your sweet spot each time. tears fell from your eyes from how fucking good it felt, eyes meeting his in the mirror.

he thought you looked so good getting fucked by him. like he was the one you were meant for instead.

“touch yourself.” he grunts, he was close, but he wanted you to come undone first. you nod, bringing a shaky hand to your sensitive clit, rubbing skilled circles as your mouth falls open.

“such a slut, aren’t you?”

“i- no, a-ah!” you couldn’t even form a full sentence. he just laughs. who knew he could fuck you this good? well, he did.

he knows you’re cumming when you squeeze him so well, making it harder for him to move.

“pussys suckin’ me in. like you always wanted this.” his teasing is relentless, his thrusts never stopping as he fucks you senseless. you nod.

“y-yes, fuck!” your eyes screw shut from how good it feels, but he gives your cheek a slap to force you to look at him while he fucks you. you pout, whining as you shake in his hold, orgasm taking over.

he follows suit, pumping his hot cum into you until it’s dripping out and onto the tile of the floor. he refuses to pull out, fucking you with his cum as extra lubrication.

who knew he’d be cumming in his bestie’s girlfriend?

you’re just so pretty!! what was he supposed to do? :(

GETOO, CHOSO, GOJO, toji, SUNA, atsumu, oikawa, iwazumi, sukuna, bokuto, your fav <3

masterlist

a/n: i do not condone irl cheating!! but me if i see geto.

[lale-txt]

DEVOURER ; drabble collection

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

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

word count: 1.3k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[niftykin]

"Im so sorry to bother you at home"

Starring: Nishinoya Yuu

Sypnosis: He has been trying to hit on you subtly for quite a few time, but he has grown a little more determinate now.

Request: Hello! Could you please write a Nishinoya x female reader where she’s seen by everyone as a serious, menacing person, when in reality she’s really just socially awkward and dense? Nishinoya tries hitting on her doing the usual tricks like flowers and bears and pick up lines but she’s just confused. Finally he just becomes more direct with her and honest and slowly she falls for him too? I’m sorry if it’s a bit too detailed and it’s okay if you don’t do this haha it’s been at the back of my head for a while

A/N: This one was so cute to write!, i tried to be really quick making this but the inspiration came to me like a thunder and here we are. Remember i use she/her in this fic.

Nishinoya Yuu. The thunder of the Karasuno team, always so energetic and kind, oftenly called delusional by his feelings towards Kiyoko, little did they know that it wasent a crush, he admired her and by that her personality and how she acted; But he liked you, he admired you and wordshipped the very floor you stepped on.

His tries were almost pathetic, sure he could tell Kiyoko anything btu it was different when it was you, he shacked and mumbled like a little kid inlove everytime he crossed any words with you. Everyone could tell but some way you didnt; Not even the flowers he gave you, little gifts he made for you with his own hands (which were a cute detail since he isnt pretty good with manualities) But from time to time his friends started to see that there was no response tho this little acts.

"She doesn't like you and she's acting like that to decline your feelings nicely" He heard one of them said, his heart ached but then Hinata spoke answering to the previous person, his words were filled with determination and his obvious spark that always bringed hope to everyone. "And what if she isnt?, she could see it was a friendly gesture. Nishinoya haven't talked about his feelings openly to her"

Hinata had a point, Sugawara and Daichi agreed, yes Nishinoya and his friends could think those hints were obvious enough to tell that he was completely head over heels inlove with you. But they know him as a friend and since pretty long time comparing to you; They weren't you and that meant they didnt feel or thinked like you.

He planned his confession, would you like something big? the whole school knowing?, No, it will make you agree by social pressure, Did you liked him enough to say 'Yes' without much people knowing? Oh God.

It was 6PM on a friday. He can remember it vividly, his steps were hard on the floor and his fingers were digging into his shirt and on the little box he held, his palms sweated and his face was red; He knocked at your door. After a few minutes you opened the door.

"Hey, im so sorry to bother you at home" he started as he saw you, his face blushed and his cologne was subtle as always. "I know that this might be hard but... I dont know what to say" he started panicking.

"I like you a lot" He finally stated after a sigh, his gaze fixated on the floor, the blush on his cheeks made him look heated, his breathing was heavy and his mind was longing and pleading for an answer.

"Are you being serious?" You spoke, a hidden tint of amusement in your voice, his feeling were glowing as he answered "Of course i am, why wouldnt i? i like you so much" He said as he took another step, reflecting his mind and then doing the opposite and stepping back, he didnt wanted to make the situation awkard, he just wanted to finally be totally sincere with you.

little did he know you liked him aswell, but oh lord he is the happiest man alive.

"Hey, i bringed this for you too" He said as he smiled at you, more confident and smug after your answer, handing you a little figure you have been longing to have since quite a few time. He buyed it for you since the first day you mentioned it but he decided to wait untill the ocation was perfect, and sure it was.

[luvtsumu]

could yall imagine msby4, osamu and suna all at your grad at the same time!!!! i think it'd be so hectic and endearing :-(

they'd all come with their own boquet of flowers, probably having coordinated prior on what they're getting you!! the agreement was definitely small bouquets so that you'd at least be able to carry them all (BUT???? WHY WOULD BOKUTO NOT GIVE YOU AN ENTIRE GARDEN???? YOU DESERVE IT!!!!!)

atsumu is def a bit annoyed that bokuto got a bigger bouquet for you, BUT atsumu is the only one who got you a cute helium balloom!!

they'd be early to the ceremony, seeing you before and after!! you told them that it wasn't important for them to come so early (you had to be there 90 mins prior to the ceremony itself to get your gown, degree, and professional photos taken) but they insisted

they as in hinata, bokuto and atsumu... they just couldn't wait

sakusa, osamu and suna were more than happy to arrive on time... but for carpooling purposes and actually being able to find parking, going all together was the better choice

but what's 90 minutes?!?!??! time went by so fast with the number of pictures you got with them even before you got your gown

you'd obviously get solo pictures with everyone, all of them smiling in their photos that'd let everyone know how proud they are of you!!!

hinata definitely has his cheek pressed up against yours (careful not to smudge any of your make up though if you're wearing any!!), has an arm around your shoulders, and has his other pointing at your degree with you hold it! his smile is so bright and his eyes squint up. he giggles as you two take the photo which ends up making you laugh and show the camera a cheesy smile.

bokuto would have an arm around your shoulders too!! resting his cheek on top of yours and practically caging you as he gives the camera two thumbs up!! you'd smile big and mimic his pose which gets everyone laughing since you honestly give off "mini me" vibes with him

atsumu for sssuuurrreee sticks his tongue out in his photo with you. arm around your shoulders--not really since he puts up a peace sign behind your head to give you bunny ears--and his other hand pointing towards you. he'd wink at the camera too and they'd end up catching a photo of you rolling your eyes at him (that's the one he'd post LMAO)

sakusa, of course, is a little more reserved--but he's so proud of you and your accomplishments!! his arm still wraps around you respectfully and he smiles for the camera. he takes off his mask completely for you so you both get a good photo. he's definitely the most formal when it came to taking a photo with you (but anyone would be able to see how happy he is to see you graduating with the way his eyes squint up and his smile looks so natural)

osamu is super natural when taking a photo with you!! he's got an arm around your waist which atsumu calls him out for (he flips atsumu off LOL) and you laugh. someone gets a picture of this before the actual proper pose hahahaha. he'd tilt his head towards you and point at your degree, his smile cheesy and body language proud

suna, same as osamu tbh, but he practically headlocks you with how close he brings you with his arm. he smiles, rests his cheek against your head, and smiles at the camera while pointing at your degree. his smile is smth everyone gets caught off guard with--since when was he so soft?!

during the ceremony, the rowdy ones get restless because why the hell is it taking so long ahlddjsjdjdjdj but!!!!!

as soon as they see you getting ready to walk, they're EXCITED

everyone is up from their seats, clapping and cheering for you as loud as they can (except maybe sakusa, but he's still definitely standing and clapping obnoxiously loud) as soon as your name is called and they cheer allllll the way until you walk off the stage

the rest of the graduates and audience laugh at their enthusiasm, but, of course, find it endearing as they're yelling things along the lines of "that's our graduate!!!" "walk that stage y/n!!!!" "i love you!!!! give me your autograph!!!" "thats 40 thousand dollars right there!!!!"

and of course some people know who they are!!! you're definitely the talk of the town and some people are jealous you've got the rowdy volleyboys cheering you on so excitedly!!

after the ceremony, more pictures are taken (lots of group photos and silly ones too!!) and this time even with your family.

your family thanks them for coming and comments on how hilarious it was to hear them cheering. it gives them a great feeling (esp one of comfort!) knowing that you are loved so dearly by others!

the boys are also invited for dinner and who are they to say no?!?!?!?

later, they're definitely all posting photos on instagram!! hinats posts on his story and makes an actual post for you--he filmed your walk and definitely posted that, probably captioning it with "slaying their best slay rn 😫" LMAO,,, he also makes a cute collage of you, obviously wanting to highlight YOU as the graduate, for his story. for his post, he makes a photo of you two together the first photo, followed by a bunch more, a group photo, and then his favourite solo picture of you giving a cheesy smile to the camera as you hold up your degree!! he'd caption his post with a short cheesy paragraph about being proud of you and knowing you'll have a great future

bokuto also posts a video of your walk on his story and his yelling is so loud 😭😭😭 everyone who watches it definitely turns down their volume LOL but it's super sweet!! he follows it with a photo of you two together and just sticker bombs it. he also makes a post, making the first picture one he took of the bouquet he got you, then his favourite picture of the both of you, following it with more duo photos, a group photo, and even a photo of him and the boys while they waited. he captioned it with "SO HAPPY FOR @ YNUSERNAME !!! CONGRADS AND REMEBER ME WHEN YOU'RE FAMOUS!!! LOVE YOU!!!!!!!"

atsumu spams his story of your entire graduation actually LOL it started with him getting ready, him with osamu, the both of them getting you each a bouquet, him getting a balloon, them meeting up with the other boys, the hectic car ride that consisted of a loud karaoke session much to sakusa's (the driver) dismay, a video of them seeing you for the first time and how your face lit up, two 6-photo collages before the ceremony (mostly pictures of the both of you striking many different poses), a video of you getting ready to walk and him saying "it's happeenninng!", a video of you walking and his screaming (he's the one who yelled that he loves you and wants an autograph for suuurree), and bunncch of photos afterwards. he posts one group photo followed by his favourite photo of the two of you on his feed and captions it with "so proud of this scholar!!! c's get degrees!" and you're definitely defending your honour in the comments when you eventually see the post LMAO

sakusa, more reserved tbh, posts a picture of you walking the stage on his story! he has a video but thats for safekeeping and he fucking hates how loud atsumu was jsdkdjshdkdjsjdj anyways,,,, he tags you in the story, follows it with a cute photo collage with a couple cute stickers that said congrats! and some confetti, and he also posts a group photo on his feed. he captions it with something sweet and simple! "congradulations to @ ynusername. so proud of you and your success :-)"

osamu posts a video of you walking on his story (volume included LOL) and he's also cheering for you! a part of the video he posts, the camera turns to him and suna and they both exaggerate their cheering. they laugh together but it gets cut off (((and everyone who views it replays it just to see that part again))))). he posts a lot of pictures on his story, so obviously proud of you, and he also gets pictures at dinner! he's late for the actual feed post because he forgot LOL and the first picture is of him, you and atsumu together! it's a silly photo, of course, and it's follow by proper ones, duo photos, a group photo, and a cute picture of you! he captions it with "sry it's late :P happy grad to our happy grad <3" and ofc the boys put him on blast for being late

suna is similar to atsumu (not surprisingly) but not as aggressive. he definitely makes it more mysterious as to where he's going on his story as he posts a mirror selfie of him all dressed up (practically a thirst trap ugh....) and even posts the cute bouquet he got you without context LOL. after that, the next story post is a video of you scurrying over to him and the rest of the group. he posts a picture of the two of you together (def a .5 pic) and captions it with a simple "with the cutest graduate" !! of course he films your walk, posts it, and follows it with a collage of photos! his post for his feed is of the two of you (his favourite photo ofc), followed by a group photo, one with the boys, one with osamu and sakusa, a selfie, and then a silly one of you (probably a picture of you zoned out during dinner because of how tired you were LOL). he captions it with "cograds @ ynusername B] slay your best slay 🫰🏼"

anyway 😭😭😭 grad with these guys would definitely be so much fun

[teamatsumu]

Praise (Atsumu x reader one shot)

Summary: Atsumu won’t stop complimenting you, always telling you how beautiful you are. You think he’s full of crap.

Pairing: Miya Atsumu x reader

Word Count: 1,829

Warnings: Fluff, Suggestive language, swearing

A/N: Okay, first Atsumu one shot, finally. Hopefully yall like it!

Your short huffs and the click, click, click of your heels were the only sounds on the concrete of the parking lot as you made your way to your car. The night air was particularly still today, causing you to build up a sweat within minutes of being outside. You fumbled with your tiny purse to pull out your keys, settling into the driver’s seat before sighing and letting your shoulders slump. You closed your eyes and leaned your head back against the seat, feeling your lips turn into a frown.

This did not go how you thought it would.

Your date was nice enough. He was kind and asked all the right questions. He hummed in all the right places and told you enough about himself and his life to get you intrigued. You were feeling very happy with how the night was progressing. You were sure, positive, that there would be a second date. How could there not? You both were vibing like crazy.

It seems you had completely misread him though.

Right outside the restaurant, just as you were about to suggest you two go for a little walk and continue talking, he had raised a sheepish hand to rub the back of his neck, apologizing that you just weren’t his type. He thought he was being subtle when he looked you up and down as he said it, but you knew what he meant immediately.

He didn’t find you attractive.

If this had been a few years ago, you would’ve been crushed at the thought. But you were no longer the timid girl from high school anymore. You were a grown woman with a good career. Things like this didn’t faze you much now. You were more annoyed than anything else at having wasted your one free night on something like this. Dating wasn’t something you were particularly interested in at this point in your life, not when you had finally started settling in at your job. And the thought that tomorrow at work a certain blond setter would ride your ass until you told him how the date went made you scowl even harder.

Sometimes you wondered if Atsumu had ever heard the word ‘professionalism’ in his life. He sure as hell didn’t show it. Especially when it came to you.

You had joined MSBY as their brand new manager seven months ago. You had been slightly timid at first, and way in over your head, having to manage a V1 Volleyball team right off the bat. Combine that with how hyper some of the members could be, and you had the perfect recipe for chaos. At that time, you hadn’t anticipated that these boys would become some of your closest friends. And you couldn’t have ever dreamed that Miya Atsumu of all people would be the one you’re most fond of.

Atsumu loved to claim that you had caught his eye as soon as he saw you, boasting that he had seen your potential and that you would be sticking with them for a long time. He had been right, of course. MSBY was notorious for going through managers like they were candy. No one stuck around after the first month. Except you, and Atsumu liked to think it was because of him.

True to his nature, he had flirted with you endlessly since you joined the team. If it wasn’t corny one-liners that showed you just how much of a dork he was, it was stupid and sleazy innuendos that made Sakusa groan and glare at him in distaste every time. Nothing deterred Atsumu though. He was hell bent on reminding you that you were the ‘prettiest manager we ever had’. And he thinks it’s because he made you feel so welcome (his words not yours), that you had stuck around for so long.

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that his incessant flirting had actually made things much more difficult for a while.

It was Atsumu who had hyped up the prospect of you going on a date. He had ranted and raved that your date was a ‘lucky son of a bitch’ and how you would blow him away the minute he saw you. He had gone on and on until you were red in the face and scolding him to stop and get back on the court to practice.

You blamed him for your current predicament actually. No matter how much you ignored him or shot him down, his constant compliments had gotten to you. How could they not? You were still human, and Atsumu was, by your own admission, an attractive guy. Him telling you that you look beautiful more or less every day had given you this false confidence in yourself and that’s why you had agreed to go on a date in the first place.

(You knew your reasoning was a stretch. But blaming Atsumu felt good so you went with it.)

Your phone pinged, shaking you from your thoughts. You narrowed your eyes at the phone screen. Speak of the devil.

Miya: How’s it goin’? Ya gettin laid tonite? ;)

You rolled your eyes at the text. Thumbs typing a reply quickly.

You: Make me something to eat. Preferably ramen.

Miya: Aw no :( That bad?

You didn’t reply, putting the car in gear and heading over to your new destination.

……………………………..

A steaming bowl of beef noodles waited for you at the Miya residence, which you slurped down even though you had dinner not even an hour ago. Atsumu puttered around in the kitchen behind you as you half-focused on whatever volleyball game he was going through on the TV. You had hiked your dress up to your hips, Atsumu’s gray sweatpants covering your legs. Your hair was pulled into a messy knot on top of your head to keep it off your sweaty neck.

He finally sat down next to you with his own bowl, and the sounds of slurping and gulping overtook the thumps and cheers coming from the screen in front of you. For a minute, you two basked in the silence.

“So what happened?” He asked with a full mouth, voice slightly muffled. His eyes were still focused on the screen before him.

You sighed and chewed. “He said I wasn’t his type.”

Atsumu rolled his eyes at that and made a face. “‘Course yer not. Yer way too much for him ta handle.”

You gave him an offended look. “Huh?”

Atsumu nodded. “I mean, look at ya.” He gestured vaguely with his chopsticks. “And in that dress? Phew.”

You rolled your eyes. “You always do this, Miya. You always say all this mushy crap. This is all your fault.”

That made him pause, wide brown eyes looking at you. “Ha? How is it ma fault? What did I do?”

You glared down at your bowl as you thought of your next words. “You always talk about how beautiful I am,” you cringed. “Saying all these things to make me feel confident. Then I talk to an actual guy and realize you had built me up for nothing.”

Silence filled the space between you two as you stuffed another generous helping of noodles into your mouth, glaring at the TV and trying to ignore Atsumu’s stare on the side of your head as he set his bowl down on the coffee table.

“Okay, first of all, what do ya mean by ‘actual guy’?” He pouted in indignation, crossing his arms. You nearly snorted at the image. “Second, I never lied to ya! Not once! Well-” he stopped abruptly and pursed his lips in thought. “That dress ya wore for Bokuto’s birthday last month was fuckin’ hideous but-��

“Hey!”

“But that’s the dress’s fault, not yers!” He finished loudly. “I mean, ya still looked fuckin’ gorgeous-”

“Stop-” You held a hand up, placing your bowl next to Atsumu’s before frowning at him. “That’s what I’m talking about. Why do you keep doing that?”

He let out a frustrated huff. “Ya think I’m lyin’? Ya think yer not pretty?”

You shrugged. “I mean, I’m okay.”

Atsumu was already shaking his head at you, still scowling, his arms crossed. You trailed off and stared at him. It felt like you were being scolded like a child.

“I wouldn’ lie to ya, Y/N.” He said quietly. “Ya gotta be one of the prettiest girls I’ve ever seen. Like for real.” He ruffled his hair a bit, sighing. “That jerk made ya get all insecure ‘bout yerself. I gotta fix this.”

You could feel your neck heat up at his words, looking back at the TV when the sight of him became too much. This is exactly what annoyed you about Atsumu. He was too blasé about saying this stuff. He came off as so intimate at times, his words crossed so many boundaries. He didn’t even realize how much you were affected by his bold remarks, especially when he was sitting right there before you, in a black tee that stretched just right over his chest, and shorts that showed off his gorgeous thighs-

You closed your eyes and breathed deep and thinking about his words. How the hell was he going to “fix” this?

You nearly yelped out loud when you felt something soft make contact with your lips, eyes popping open to comprehend that Atsumu, your annoying, volleyball-playing, smirking, rowdy, smoking hot coworker was kissing you, placing a hand behind your head so you wouldn’t pull away, moving his lips over yours so deliciously it made your breath stutter and your eyelids flutter shut, until you were giving in and kissing him back. Your heart was beating a mile a minute, feeling yourself melt when Atsumu thumbed at the corner of your jaw, tilting your head so his mouth fit against you better. Your hands remained frozen in your lap, unable to move in case it broke the spell over you two. You let him guide the kiss, reveling in how soft his lips felt and how good he smelled so up close.

It felt like it was over too soon when you separated with a last, loud smooching sound that made your cheeks flush. Your breaths mingled, Atsumu not pulling away more than a few inches. You looked into his wide brown eyes, saw how his pupils dilated, the red that was creeping up from his neck to his ears.

“Ya believe me now?” He muttered, staring directly at your lips with a look so heated that it made your insides squirm. You hummed.

“I think,” you sighed. “I think I’m going to need a lot more convincing.”

He smirked at that, a teasing glint entering his eyes as his lips met yours again, harder this time, more sure, pushing forward until you were falling back into the plush cushion beneath you and his massive frame was hovering over you, the sounds of the TV completely ignored in the background.

…………………………….

Let me know what you think! Request are open x

[paperultra]

THE FIVE NONSENSES

[ SOULMATE!AU ] Pairing: Miya Osamu x Fem!Reader x Miya Atsumu Summary: Like most people, you do not meet the Miya twins so much as they are thrust upon you. Unlike most people, you are thrust upon them as well. read on ao3 | read on quotev

CHAPTER THREE: SMELL Word Count: 8,205 words Warnings: Swearing

“Hey, you! Join the photography club!”

You narrowly dodge the flyer thrust in front of your face, knocking back into someone in the process. Flustered, you move in the opposite direction, only to knock shoulders with another student walking the other way. Both of your apologies get lost in the noise.

“Join the basketball team! Winter Cup finalists two years in a row!”

“Improve your focus in calligraphy club!”

“Join kyudo club!”

“Join marching band!”

With a small huff, you grab the strap of Osamu’s schoolbag and squeeze through the crowd. Osamu looks over his shoulder at you, and you meet his raised eyebrow with a grimace; not long after, a hand presses between your shoulder blades to usher you forward.

“Dammit,” Atsumu grumbles, digging his phone out of his pocket. “Where’s the volleyball club?”

“Hell if I know,” Osamu says. “Call Aran.”

“’S what I’m doin’, dumbass.” Punching a few buttons, the other boy presses his phone against his ear with visible impatience. “Aran!” Your cheeks burn with embarrassment as Atsumu’s voice carries high over the clamor surrounding you, causing several students to swivel their heads. “Where the hell’s the volleyball club? … Class 1-7? Seriously?”

Hanging up without so much as a thank-you, Atsumu quickens his stride down the congested hallway. Osamu follows suit, and you end up seizing the back of his blazer as the three of you head to Class 1-7, evading arms and signs and flyers the entire way.

Having visited the school before to watch Ojiro play, you had known that Inarizaki High School is big; navigating it as a student on the first day of school, however, is a whole different animal. You hadn’t realized it was this big. Or this crowded. After a year of being large fish in a small pond, you now find yourselves in an ocean.

At least you have the twins to rough it with.

(It should be noted that your thankfulness varies wildly from hour to hour.)

Near the entrance to Class 1-7, you spot Ojiro wielding a bright sign advertising the volleyball club. He easily stands head and shoulders above most of the other students, and the sight of a familiar face helps you relax – even though you’d just seen him at graduation a few weeks ago, he somehow looks older here, comfortable and self-assured in the raucous halls of Inarizaki.

“Yo! Aran!” Osamu and Atsumu call out, running up to the second-year. You, still holding onto Osamu’s blazer, are unceremoniously yanked along.

Ojiro perks up and grins widely when you all reach him, freeing one hand to bump fists with the twins. “’Bout time you guys showed up. Thought ya chickened out or somethin’,” he exclaims, then nods at you with a grin. “Good to see you here too, [L/n]-chan.”

You smile back. “Hi, Ojiro-senpai.”

(Of all the people the twins consider friends, which have always been rather scant in number, you like Ojiro Aran the best.)

“Chickened out?” Atsumu scoffs. “No way. You scrubs are gonna need us if ya wanna win nationals this year.”

A laugh bursts out of Ojiro’s chest. “Don’t ya think you’re gettin’ a little ahead of yerself?”

“Yeah, well, what’s new?” Osamu pipes up. He elbows his brother’s side, jabbing a thumb at the doorway when the latter chokes up and glares. “Hurry yer ass up, ‘Tsumu, we haven’t even signed up yet.”

You cough. Ojiro laughs again, leading the three of you into the classroom.

There’s a ton of students already inside when you enter. In one corner of the room is the girls’ volleyball club, and in the other is the boys’, though many are mingling and wandering around to chat. A few are upperclassmen wearing the Inarizaki volleyball team’s jacket – the rest, you assume, are first-years hoping for a chance to join.

It’s not surprising for a school that’s gone to the Spring Tournament almost thirty times. Most of these applicants will be benched for their entire high school career.

Following Ojiro to the desk for the boys’ volleyball club, you encounter the two people sitting behind it.

“Arata-senpai, Kobayashi-senpai,” Ojiro announces, clapping one hand on Osamu’s shoulder and the other on Atsumu’s, “got a package deal for ya.”

The first thing you notice about Arata is how tall he is when he’s sitting down. Then he slowly stands up, and your eyes widen as he keeps going and going, finally stopping about half a head taller than Ojiro.

Arata breathes in, vulpine eyes narrowing, before he slams his hands down on the desk with a loud thwap.

“If it ain’t the Miya twins!” he chirps, voice much peppier than expected, and you choke back a surprised laugh. “I watched yer match last year at nationals. You two think ya have what it takes to be part of a powerhouse?”

“Why talk big when we can just show ya, senpai?” Atsumu says, as if he hadn’t been gassing himself up to Ojiro moments before. He pulls out his signup sheet, already filled out in his usual large, messy print, and slides it over to the captain, leaning over the desk with one hand on his hip. “Got yers, ’Samu?”

“Yup.” Osamu slides his over as well, handwriting slightly neater.

Arata takes the sheets happily. Your gaze falls upon his hands by chance, and then it remains there, taking stock of the scribbles of purple and red decorating his skin.

Ojiro whistles. “Looks like yer soulmate’s havin’ fun with some gel pens,” he comments, pointing at Arata’s hands.

“Hm?” The other boy blinks and takes a moment to inspect the words curving below his knuckles. His brow furrows, and he squints before finally breaking out into a goofy smile. “Ah,” he says, and his voice takes on a distinctly fonder, dreamier tone, “guess they are. They’ve been practicin’ hiragana a lot lately. See? Pretty good, eh?” Arata stretches his hands out face-down, showing them off.

(You can barely read the characters.)

“Neat,” Atsumu says, though his tone has flattened just slightly.

“Right?” Arata doesn’t seem to notice. “We’re gonna finally see each other in person next summer after I graduate. They’re graduating high school this June in Spain …”

“He’s really excited,” Ojiro mutters to the three of you, “in case ya couldn’t tell.”

The volleyball captain’s cheeks turn an endearing shade of pink. “What’s wrong with that, huh, Ojiro? I’m gonna spend the rest of my life with them, so it’s a good sign I’m lookin’ forward to it.”

Next to you, Osamu shifts and shoves his hands into the pockets of his pants. You feel his elbow brush against your arm, bare skin separated by layers of fabric.

The rest of your life.

A strange feeling forms in the pit of your stomach. It’s the same kind you get whenever your parents ask about Osamu, and whenever you see couples wearing matching outfits at the mall – a feeling a little less than longing, and a little more than guilt. Like you ought to be doing more, saying more, expressing more. Feeling more.

You wonder what it is like to be Arata, infatuated, proudly flaunting the colors on his hands.

The girl sitting at the desk finally speaks up.

“I thought we were talkin’ about volleyball, not yer love life, Arata.”

Your gaze moves away from Arata’s wrists and onto the girl.

Still sitting, she and the captain paint a picture of a mouse and an elephant, her tiny form complemented by large, expressionless eyes and a small nose. The maroon jacket hanging off her shoulders looks one size too big.

And yet, when her gaze flicks over and meets yours, you’re overtaken by a sudden chill.

Scary.

Arata jumps and glances down at her. “O-Oh, right! Sorry, Kobayashi-chan, I guess I got carried away.”

“It’s fine.” Kobayashi continues to stare at you, and you start to feel slightly uncomfortable. “’S why I’m here.”

“Yeah!” Coughing, Arata rubs the back of his neck and turns his attention back to the twins. “Gettin’ back on track … if it isn’t obvious already, Kobayashi-chan is our manager. She’s real good. Real detailed.”

“But I’m also in my third year, which means we’re currently lookin’ for a new manager for next year,” Kobayashi supplies. “So if ya happen to know any first-years who’re qualified and willing to apply for the right reasons, please let me know.”

Your brow furrows at that.

“Whaddaya mean, ‘the right reasons’?” Osamu asks.

A sheepish laugh escapes Arata’s throat. “Well … the volleyball team’s pretty popular, so we get a lot of folks wantin’ to be manager just to get closer to the team and see if one of the members is their soulmate.” He sighs. “It’s not that I wanna keep any soulmates apart, but those kinds of applicants slow down the search, and obviously, we want a manager who actually wants to manage.”

Ah. Already, some of your peers already seem like they’re on a time crunch to find their person. Soulmates are getting to be a bigger and bigger deal as you get older, and with that comes certain expectations. It’s not hard to figure out why some would hope to have someone popular and athletic.

“Sorry, don’t know anybody like that,” Atsumu replies at the same time Ojiro says your name.

You look at your senior, surprised.

He directs a finger upwards. “Ya know volleyball pretty well,” he points out. “Wanna apply? You already manage the twins, after all.”

“Oi, what’s that s’posed to mean –”

Arata seems to finally notice you, eyebrows raising. “Oh! Sorry, didn’t see ya there,” he exclaims. “What’s yer name?”

Reluctantly, you step up next to Osamu and introduce yourself.

“[L/n]-chan. So ya know the twins?”

“I’ve lived on the same street as them since elementary school.”

“Really! Ya must know them well, then.”

“More than well,” says Kobayashi.

She points down at your hand. Arata follows her finger, and you resist the urge to curl your pinkie when his mouth drops.

“Oh, damn, you’re soulmates with – er, uh –”

Osamu and Atsumu just stand there, watching the captain flounder. After a few seconds, you reach up and tug Osamu’s earlobe sharply.

“Osamu,” you say, both as an answer and as a scolding, ignoring the muttered ‘ow’ coming from your right.

Clapping his hands, Arata nods. “You’re soulmates with Osamu-kun! Wow, that’s amazing. And you’ve been together since elementary school? He’d think and play better with you just bein’ there.”

You smile, embarrassed.

“That doesn’t make her the right candidate, Arata,” says Kobayashi. “Even if she really wants to manage the team, she might still prioritize Osamu-kun over everybody else. The last thing I want is a manager who picks favorites.”

She says it so bluntly, so seriously. Your smile weakens as her words hit a sore spot you didn’t know you even had.

There must be a good way to disagree. The two truths of the matter are that being a good manager would mean risking being a bad soulmate, and that being a good manager is a risk you can afford. Osamu isn’t the type of person who needs to be worried about. He gets scraped up, but he doesn’t mind it, and he knows his limits. If a player got hurt right as Osamu called you for something, you know you’d check on the other player first. Even if the other player was Atsumu. (Maybe.)

Osamu simply does not need you to take care of him. You don’t know how to express this without seeming like you don’t care as much as you should.

Atsumu cuts in before you can organize your thoughts into words.

“She wouldn’t,” he says, “unless it’s me. But ’Samu and I are soulmates, so we’re already at our best when we’re on the court.”

The upperclassmen before you tilt their heads simultaneously.

“… Wait,” Arata says after a while, slowly. “You’re tellin’ me that Osamu-kun has two soulmates?”

Osamu glances at you, eyes half-lidded, and you can only meet his eyes for a few seconds before you have to look at the ground.

“Guess I’m favored,” Osamu replies.

“Wow.” Huffing out a laugh, Arata crosses his arms. “Two soulmates … huh. I wonder how that works …” Kobayashi grunts and he clears his throat. “S-Sorry. Anyway, [L/n]-chan, if you’re interested in the manager position, just fill this out and give it to Kobayashi-chan. We’re taking applications until July first or until we find someone, whichever comes first.”

He hands you a sheet of paper, and you take it tentatively.

“My phone number’s at the top in case you have any questions,” Kobayashi adds. Her voice lowers, but its monotony remains. “And if ya end up applying, know that I won’t show any favoritism just because of yer soulmate.”

You take in a breath through your nose, fingers curling into the application in your hands. “Yeah, of course.”

She nods once, then leans back in her seat. The set of her mouth relaxes just slightly, and she crosses her arms, morphing from a cutthroat manager to a tired senpai.

“See ya after school. Good luck,” she says. Her eyes bore into yours. “To all of ya.”

There’s a moment of silent surprise between you, Osamu, and Atsumu. Then all three of you bow as Ojiro and Arata chuckle.

“Thank you!”

—

The twins, predictably, become one of three first-year regulars on Inarizaki’s boys’ volleyball team. You place your manager application in the top drawer of your desk, which you pull out frequently over the next three weeks just to stare at the blank form, unsure about the whole thing.

Saturday afternoon rolls around, and you’ve taken the paper out of your binder and set it on top of your desk at home when your phone buzzes.

Osamu: you home

You: yeah

Osamu: ok

And that’s it. You stare at your screen for a few seconds, unblinking, before you shoot up from your seat and scramble to your dresser to get changed.

Five minutes and a bit of haphazard cleaning later, there’s a few firm knocks on the front door, followed by incessant banging. You stalk over to open the door before it’s knocked off its hinges.

“I could hear you,” you tell Atsumu, unimpressed, as the two enter and shuck off their shoes.

“I know.”

He deftly dodges the kick you aim at his ankle. This usually happens nowadays, unfortunately, but it doesn’t stop you from trying.

“’S just you here?” Osamu asks, shuffling into some slippers and walking further into the house. His gym bag hangs from his shoulder, big and bulky, and you look at it curiously.

“… Yeah?”

“Fer someone left home alone all the time, you’re duller than a rock,” Atsumu says. “Folks’re gone and ya don’t even throw a party? Geez.”

You narrow your eyes as he grins. “Maybe I just want peace and quiet after havin’ to sit in class with you all week, Atsumu. Anyways, why are you guys here?”

You receive no answer. After eyeing the kitchen, Osamu turns and heads down the hallway, prompting you to follow. You’re further confused when he enters the bathroom and sets his bag on the countertop.

As he unzips it, Atsumu squeezes past you and reaches into the bag, pulling out a –

A shower cap.

“… Is the shower at yer place broken or something?”

“No,” Osamu says, and he pulls something else out. “Ma’s home.”

You stare at the box in his hands. Then you look back up at the twins.

“She’s gonna kill you.”

—

Watching Osamu and Atsumu bleach each other’s hair is like watching a train wreck in slow motion.

Their dark T-shirts have speckles of orange on them, there are bits of foil littering the sink and the bathroom floor, and the acrid stench of bleach filling the bathroom is starting to creep down the hallway. You can only hope it doesn’t linger past Sunday night when you go back to the dorms.

“If you screw this up, I’m shaving yer giant head in yer sleep.”

“I’m doin’ it better than you did, ya scrub!”

You stand outside, shirt collar pulled up and over your nose, as Atsumu finishes combing through the top part of Osamu’s hair. It’s an incredible thing to witness: Osamu sitting on the shower seat, hunched over and holding a sheet of foil over his undercut while Atsumu hangs over him, wearing one of the shower caps to keep his own hair out of the way. It’s also a disaster.

You lift your phone up to snap a quick picture.

“Oi! What’re ya doin’?”

“Making a present for Ojiro.” Upon viewing the photographic evidence, you realize something. “You’re not gonna tell Auntie that you dyed yer hair at my house, right?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Osamu assures, letting Atsumu hold onto the foil while he pulls on a shower cap. He sets a timer, and the two of them hurry out of the bathroom to escape the fumes. “She won’t be thinkin’ about the details when she finds out.”

“Like she’d ever blame ya, anyway.” Atsumu scoffs. “You’re the favorite and you ain’t even her kid.”

“Well, I don’t wanna take my chances.” You recall the countless number of times the twins had received a whooping for something stupid they did, and the countless number of times you had just barely managed to slip under the radar by keeping your mouth shut. “Y’know, she might make ya dye it black again if the school doesn’t like it.”

“Please. If anything, they’ll thank us fer givin’ them an easy way to tell us apart.”

“Is that why you’re dyein’ yer hair? You’re already in different classes.”

“It ain’t fer class,” Osamu says. “It’s fer volleyball.”

Atsumu presses his back against the wall and slides down to the floor, pulling up a game on his phone. “Some of the scrubs still can’t tell us apart on court,” he sniffs. “’M tired of it.”

That, you think, makes a lot more sense.

Osamu and Atsumu have always taken full advantage of being identical twins. You’ve seen them pull just about every stunt in the book – switching the way they part their hair on random days, pretending to be the other when one of them gets in trouble, making money off classmates who bet on knowing who’s who (and lying on more than one occasion). Looking alike isn’t usually a point of contention between them.

When it does bother them, volleyball is usually involved. They don’t always wear different shirts or numbered jerseys at practice, and you’ve been to enough of them to know that this can cause issues at the beginning of the year. The coach calls out the wrong name, a teammate calls for Osamu when they mean Atsumu, things like that.

They get especially miffed when one gets praised for something the other did. Atsumu, in particular, hates that the most.

“Ya have anythin’ to eat?”

Head snapping up, you look at Osamu and nod halfway through absorbing what he’s just asked. “There’s leftover onigiri in the fridge and snacks in the cupboard,” you reply, stepping over Atsumu’s outstretched legs to lead his brother towards the kitchen.

(“Heat up an onigiri fer me,” Atsumu calls out.)

(“Get it yerself, lazy-ass,” Osamu shoots back.)

In the kitchen, you fish out the last two onigiri the twins’ mom had given you yesterday and present them to Osamu.

“Here. You and Atsumu can each have one.”

“These the ones with salted salmon?”

You nod.

Osamu thinks for a moment. His lips purse, his eyelids droop, and even though he kind of looks like a lunch lady with that shower cap on, it’s cute.

“I’ll make ochazuke and yaki onigiri,” he decides. “What do ya want?”

“I’ll just have some chips or something. I just ate lunch, so I’m not that hungry.”

He stares at you, then accepts the onigiri from your hands. “Okay.”

Putting the rice balls on the counter next to the stove, Osamu retrieves a small plate, a bowl, and a mug from the cupboard. He finds most of everything else pretty quickly – the cast iron skillet under the oven, the spatula in the drawer right next to the fridge, and the soy sauce and oil in the lower corner cabinet. The only thing he asks for you to locate is the green tea, which you get from the depths of the second shelf in the pantry.

While he works, you grab a bag of your favorite chips and pop it open, leaning against the unused counter on the other side of the stove to watch.

You like it whenever Osamu cooks. The click of the stovetop turning on, the curve of oil being poured into the skillet, and you’re rocking gently in a small boat, curled up in an overstuffed chair on a rainy day.

(It’s an extension of how he feels, you’ve learned – for as much as Miya Osamu loves volleyball, he loves food just a teeny bit more.)

When the oil is hot enough, he unwraps one of the onigiri and places it in.

You turn the opening of your chip bag towards him as he wipes his hands on a towel. “Here,” you offer once he notices.

“Thanks.”

Atsumu’s onigiri sizzles in the skillet while the water for Osamu’s tea continues to heat up. Osamu mirrors your posture on his side of the stove, messily crunching down on several chips, and the two of you wait.

“Didja apply for the manager position yet?”

You swallow too early, rough shards of chips cutting down your throat. Fighting the urge to cough, you shake your head and reach for the water you’d left on the table this morning. “No. Still thinkin’ about it.” He hums. “You guys haven’t found one yet?”

“Kobayashi-senpai’s real picky.” He flips the onigiri over with one sharp push of the spatula, brushing soy sauce over the freshly grilled side. The water boiler beeps right after, and he seamlessly transitions over to pour the hot water over the teabag in his mug. “Most of the applicants we saw were annoyin’, anyway.”

“Oh.”

You recall the last practice you’d attended, watching from the balcony with your homework as the team ran laps around the court. The applicant on trial that day had watched them go by a few times, still and proper, before suddenly turning to Kobayashi and excusing themselves from the gym. They never came back.

On the walk back to the dorms that evening, Atsumu explained that the student had a counter for how many times their soulmate would pass by them.

(“Waste of time n’ space,” he’d complained. “Who’d wanna be with someone that desperate?”)

“Ya wouldn’t be half bad at it.”

“… Yeah …”

“If ya don’t wanna apply, just say so.”

“It’s not that. I just don’t know if I’ll wanna do it for the next three years.”

“Whaddaya want to do, then?”

“I dunno.” With a sigh, you set your bag of chips down. “I mean, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to apply.”

Osamu shrugs. “If ya are,” he says, turning off the stove top, “don’t do it just ’cause of me.”

Your teeth sink into your lower lip, sharp and knowing as he flips the yaki onigiri onto the plate he’d pulled out earlier.

After calling Atsumu, who had migrated to the living room couch while he had been waiting, the twins scarf down their afternoon snack in no time at all and raid your cupboard for the complimentary snacks your parents usually bring back from their trips.

Halfway into his fourth wafer, Atsumu’s timer goes off.

“Oh, shit.” Shoving the rest of the wafer into his mouth and silencing the alarm, Atsumu gets up and eagerly makes a beeline to the bathroom.

“… Do ya think it worked?” you mutter as you and Osamu stand up more slowly.

“I dunno.”

A loud swear explodes from the bathroom.

You look at each other sharply. Wiping the crumbs from your lips, the two of you run over to investigate.

As you get closer, you hear the sink running, then Atsumu muttering underneath his breath.

When you peek into the bathroom, your eyebrows shoot up into your hairline.

Holy shit.

“Holy shit,” Osamu says, leaning past you to get a better look. “’Tsumu, ya look like a carrot.”

“Shaddup, ’Samu,” Atsumu moans, rinsing his hair angrily. “I know. Fuck.”

Hair bleach on dark hair, as you find out, works similarly to hair bleach on dark fabric. Contrary to the sandy blond the older twin had desired, the result he had gotten is instead a bright, burnt yellow-orange matching the stains on his T-shirt. Not carrot, necessarily, but definitely not blond.

“Ugh.” Nose and forehead wrinkling, Atsumu leans toward the mirror, pinching a section of hair between his fingers. “It … it ain’t that bad, right?” His pitch rises with the slightest hint of denial. “I’m pullin’ it off.”

“It’s that bad,” Osamu says.

“’Samu!”

“Maybe you can bleach it again?” you suggest.

“And then his hair falls out? Bad idea.”

“Dye it, then, like you are.”

“We don’t have money left to buy a different color.” With a sigh, Osamu puts his hands on his hips. “Damn. Sorry, ’Tsumu.”

Atsumu groans and thunks his forehead against the mirror, dripping water all the way down its surface onto the counter. His frustration is so palpable that you can feel it prickling your skin.

If he hadn’t been so excited before, you’d probably poke fun. You should poke fun, but the disappointed twist of his lips and the droopiness of his sopping wet hair just makes you feel bad. He looks like a wet puppy.

Dammit.

You take your phone out.

Osamu tracks the movement. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Lookin’ something up.” You press on the first link you see, skim the webpage quickly, and put your phone back into your pocket. “I’m headin’ out fer a bit. Stay here.”

“… ’Kay.”

“Whatever,” Atsumu grumbles.

After grabbing your wallet and checking its contents, you head outside to drag your bike out from underneath the vacant carport. And as you hop onto the seat, pedaling down towards the nearest drugstore, you tell yourself that Atsumu better thank you on his hands and knees once you get back.

—

“Blue shampoo?” Atsumu’s tone is suspicious as he slathers the back of Osamu’s hair in grey dye.

“It’s supposed to cancel out the orange.” Turning the bottle to face you, you read the description beneath the brand name. “‘Eliminates brassy, orange undertones.’ See?”

“It ain’t gonna fuck up my hair even more?”

“’Course not,” you retort, all hopes of veneration quickly fading away. “I ain’t an asshole, Atsumu.”

His eyebrow twitches, hands slowing. You take the opportunity to place the bottle sideways in the crook of his neck, forcing him to tilt his head to hold it in place.

“Oi –”

“Go try it. I’ll finish Osamu’s hair.”

“Yer so bossy,” Atsumu grumbles, but he lets you nudge him out the way, peeling his gloves off and grabbing the shampoo.

You snap some gloves on in turn, keeping one eye on Osamu’s hair and the other on Atsumu as he ducks his head beneath the sink faucet. They’d pretty much finished up applying the dye for Osamu, at least from what you can tell, so you start combing through the locks with your fingers to make sure everything is covered.

Miya hair is very thick. Soft, too. You hope all this bleaching and dyeing won’t ruin it too much.

“Hm,” Osamu hums abruptly.

You stop. “What?”

“Nothin’.” You furrow your brow but resume, only to just barely hear him mumble, “… Feels nice.”

Oh.

A smile crawls onto your lips without warning, the space behind your ribcage suddenly cozy and soft.

“Alright, I’m doin’ it,” Atsumu announces. You look up just in time to see him squeeze a dollop of shampoo into his hand. “Euch! It’s so blue!”

“Why do ya sound so surprised?!”

“Shaddup, I just wasn’t expectin’ it to be so dark! … Smells okay, though …”

While the shampoo does its work on Atsumu’s hair, you take a little extra time combing Osamu’s. He remains quiet and still, thumbs tapping idly on the dark screen on his phone. You wait for him to make more snide remarks at Atsumu’s expense or complain about the smell of the dye, but he doesn’t.

You eventually finish up while the water still runs blue and sudsy into the bowl of the sink. Osamu mutters a thank you and ambles off after eyeing his brother for a few seconds. You linger for a while longer.

(God, you hope it works. If not for Atsumu’s sake, then for your pride and your wallet.)

After what seems like forever, he rinses out the last of the shampoo, wrings his hair out a bit, and straightens up to look in the mirror.

You examine his reflection as well. It’s less orange, yes, but still not as light as he had wanted, more gold than sand. Not necessarily good, but certainly less bad.

Atsumu fixates on the more muted shade of his hair for a minute or two. His lips press downwards at the corners, and then they part to say your name.

You blink.

“What?”

“Why’d ya buy the shampoo?”

He sounds almost accusatory, but not quite; there’s an undertone that you very, very rarely hear in his voice. He meets your eyes in the mirror, hair a dripping, tangled mess.

“… ’Cause I felt bad fer ya,” you admit unwillingly. Atsumu makes a face, and you sharpen your tongue, because that is what feels comfortable with him. Normal. “And I didn’t want to hear ya mopin’ and complainin’ about it all week.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” he persists. “I coulda pulled it off.”

You scoff. “Just ’cause you’re taller than most of the school doesn’t mean they wouldn’t’a noticed. And anyways, it’s better now, ain’t it?”

“I didn’t ask ya to buy it.”

“Ya didn’t even know what it was until I told you.”

“An’ if I did, I still wouldn’t’ve asked!”

“Yeah, ’cause yer prideful ass would rather die than ask fer help!” you snap, jabbing his bicep with your finger. “God! I knew ya wouldn’t even say thank you!”

“Well, if ya knew I was gonna be a dick about it, why’d ya waste yer money?!”

“I felt bad fer ya!” you screech. “My mistake!”

“Yeah, yer mistake!” Atsumu shouts back.

Chest heaving for breath, you glare at him. He glares in return. Temper pinks his face and the tips of his ears, flares his nostrils and curls his lip in that fierce and familiar way. In the back of your mind, you know you are doing the same.

Asshole.

You’re angry, yes. And offended, and exasperated, and and and –

And hurt.

“It’s so hard,” you say, your voice deciding to crack at the worst time possible, “to be nice to you sometimes, Atsumu.”

When the words leave your throat, his face grows blank in that way you’ve always hated, his mouth pressing into a fine line.

“So?” he replies.

You roll your eyes. “Forget it.”

Casting one last glance at the bottle of shampoo next to the sink, you clench your fists and turn to leave. What a waste of money. This is the last time you’re ever going to feel bad for him.

A hand wraps around your elbow upon your first step outside the bathroom.

“… Are ya cryin’?”

“No,” you bite, wishing he hadn’t asked because now you do feel like crying, just a little bit.

Atsumu pauses for an excruciating moment. You can practically feel his distaste for whatever words he’s about to say.

“I’ll pay ya back,” he mutters. “Fer the shampoo.”

“No.”

“Whaddaya mean, no?”

“I don’t want yer money.”

“Well, what do ya want, ’cause I ain’t owin’ ya anything.”

“I want a thank you.”

“… Can’t I just –”

“No.”

Atsumu throws his hands up. “Fine!” he says. “Thanks fer buyin’ somethin’ I didn’t ask fer! There, ya happy now?”

“I want ya to mean it,” you say quietly.

“I did mean it.”

You cross your arms.

He groans. Glancing around as if checking for hidden cameras, Atsumu slowly pushes his bangs away from his face and wipes his nose, sniffing.

“… Fine,” he eventually grumbles at the floor tiles. Cheeks puffed, he looks up at you from the corner of his eye and scratches the back of his head. “The shampoo fixed it a little bit,” the words struggle their way out of his mouth, “so … thanks … fer gettin’ it fer me. Ya didn’t have to.”

He looks like he’s just eaten soap, his ears still red, and that’s how you know he’s being sincere. Your shoulders relax a little bit.

“You’re welcome,” you say.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Atsumu’s expression, almost doleful for just that moment, blooms into something more sarcastic once you accept his gratitude. He gestures at the doorway behind you. “Can I go now?”

“Dry the mirror and the counter first.”

“But I said thank you.”

You throw a towel at his face and walk away, more satisfied than not.

—

“How’s Osamu-kun doing?”

You prop your phone up against the wall behind your desk, tilting your pen between your fingers. “He’s fine, Ma.”

“Did ya tell him how good his curry is? He makes it better than me.”

“Yeah, he says he’s glad you guys like it.”

After resolving the blue shampoo issue with Atsumu on Saturday, you’d gone back to the kitchen and found Osamu chopping vegetables and tofu next to the sink. At first, you figured he was hungry again, but upon your questioning, he’d only denied it.

(“’S fer you.”

“… Fer me? No, you don’t have to –”

“Yeah, I know. Ya don’t like the curry at the cafeteria, so bring mine back to the dorm and save it in the fridge fer later. If ya don’t want it, leave it fer yer folks to eat when they get back.”)

He didn’t leave much room for debate. And since he was using your family’s food to make it anyway, you accepted, a bit perplexed but happy nonetheless. You hadn’t expected him to remember your complaint about the cafeteria’s bland curry.

The amount he made was enough to fill two Tupperware containers, one of which you left for your parents when they returned two days later. Needless to say, they were delighted.

“What a thoughtful boy. He’s so good to you, honey.”

You smile, walking back to your desk. “Yeah.”

(“Ya like dark chocolate in it, right?”)

Your mom sighs. It’s a familiar sigh, and you click your pen, knowing what she is about to say before she even takes a breath.

“I just don’t know why he hasn’t asked ya out yet.”

You can hear your dad speak up between chews in the background. “It ain’t like how it was back when we were young, dear. Soulmates these days don’t like makin’ things so formal and official.”

“Oh, I know, but wouldn’t it be sweet? I was so happy when we went on our first official date.”

“The one at the konbini ’cause I couldn’t afford anythin’ nicer?”

“Yes. I loved it.”

“I know. You were smilin’ the whole time.”

“Glad you’re still in love,” you say dryly when they giggle over the phone, your nose wrinkling when your dad comes into view to give your mom a loud smooch. During these moments, you wish you’d called instead. “I’m still here.”

“Oh, I know, I know. Honey, you should bring Osamu-kun somethin’ fer his next game! A snack fer afterwards. He’ll like that.”

“Okay.” You’ve done that before. The first time you gave him an orange in your first year of junior high, he and Atsumu squabbled over dividing it for five minutes. Now you get double portions whenever you have the compulsion to bring something after games, just to keep the peace.

“Speaking of games …”

Here we go.

“… Have ya applied to be the manager for the volleyball team yet?”

“Um.” Glancing at the wall to your right, you click your pen some more, taking your time to answer. “I filled the form out …”

“[Y/n]! If ya dawdle, someone else’ll snatch it up. When’s it due?”

“July first or until they find someone.”

“Turn it in tomorrow!”

“Okay, okay.”

Your mom sighs again, and she places a bowl down onto the table. “… Otherwise, are ya okay? I’m sorry we missed ya at home.”

“It’s fine. I hung out with Kokomi and the twins. How was yer anniversary?”

“We’ll make sure we’re home next time you’re on weekend leave. And it was lovely! Oh, honey, ya should’ve seen the fish yer pa caught …”

You talk with your parents until they finish their dinner, hanging up once they’ve started cleaning up. As soon as the video cuts out, you release a breath and turn your phone face-down.

You don’t know why you’re so nervous about applying for the manager position. It’s the natural thing to do, because it’s natural to want to be involved with something Osamu is interested in, his own opinion on the matter notwithstanding. You think you might like being a manager. It’s not like you want to do something else more.

Getting rejected by Kobayashi would be horrible, though.

Maybe you’ll wait a little longer to turn your application in. Polish it up some more, and such.

—

After volleyball practice ends, and after everyone who had lingered behind to practice some more is ready to call it a night, Atsumu tells you and Osamu that he’s staying a little longer to practice his jump float serves.

“Are ya sure? Cafeteria’s servin’ all-you-can-eat pasta for dinner.”

“I’ll be done before it closes.”

Osamu doesn’t look convinced. To be fair, neither are you; Atsumu often loses track of time when he stays behind, resulting in an extra hungry, extra irritable Atsumu.

“Atsumu,” you say.

He huffs at you. “Seriously, I will!” he insists, before turning to walk back to the end line. You, Osamu, Ginjima, Akagi, and Ojiro all look on helplessly as he throws a volleyball into the air and gives himself a running start.

“Don’t worry,” Kobayashi says, grabbing your attention just as he jumps. She holds up the key to the gymnasium. “I’ll kick him out before he misses dinner.”

Ojiro, ever the responsible one, lets out a noise of protest. “Senpai, I can lock up. You should go.”

“No, it’s fine.” Though her tone is impassive, she makes it clear that her mind is set as she waves him off. “I’m goin’ out to eat with my boyfriend later, anyway.”

You blink.

Though Ojiro is visibly reluctant, he acquiesces. “… Okay. Thank you, Kobayashi-senpai.”

“Mmhm,” Kobayashi hums, and her gaze falls upon you. “Make sure they get to the cafeteria in one piece, [L/n]-chan.”

“I will, senpai.”

You wait outside while the guys change out of their gym clothes and gather their things. Once they exit the building, you join them, listening idly to their chatter about today’s practice as the five of you trek towards the cafeteria.

“Hey, Ojiro-senpai, Akagi-senpai,” Ginjima speaks up during a lull in the conversation. “What Kobayashi-senpai said earlier …”

Attention piqued, you look at your upperclassmen for their reactions to Ginjima’s question. Next to you, Osamu does little to hide his curiosity as well.

Ojiro and Akagi, in turn, share a glance, and Ojiro raises an eyebrow at Ginjima.

“Yeah?” Ojiro replies.

“Well, y’know …” Ginjima presses expectantly, “when she said that she has a boyfriend, did she mean …?”

“That’s somethin’ you can ask Kobayashi-senpai about, ain’t it?”

You imagine doing just that and cringe.

Ginjima’s eyes widen, and he clears his throat. “Well –!” he replies, a bit too loudly. “I would, but I don’t want her to think I’m bein’ judgmental or somethin’. Plus, I’m just a first-year …”

“Aw, I think it’s fine if they know, Aran. It ain’t like she’s hidin’ it or anythin’,” Akagi says. Ojiro looks up for a moment in thought, then shrugs tentatively, and Akagi smiles at you and the two boys. “Kobayashi-senpai’s not datin’ her soulmate. They’re pretty serious, too.”

Ojiro rests his hands behind his head. “He’s a nice guy. Comes to games sometimes.”

“Oh, I see …”

You nod slowly, absorbing this new piece of information. Kobayashi has a boyfriend. A boyfriend that she goes on dates with, one she really likes. You wonder how long they’ve been together.

You wonder if Kobayashi’s met her soulmate yet.

“E-Excuse me! Hello!”

The quick patter of footsteps interrupts your train of thought. Glancing behind you, you stop short when you see one of your classmates running up to your group, waving one hand and holding a camera in the other. The golden orange of the sky burnishes her red hair.

“Naruko-san,” you and Ginjima greet at the same time. Ginjima laughs.

“Sorry to bother ya!” Naruko bows and quickly straightens, holding her camera up and smiling nervously. “I-I was just takin’ some pictures for photography club, and I was wonderin’ if you guys would mind me takin’ a picture?”

“How long’s it gonna take?” Osamu asks.

“Not too long. Five minutes? U-Unless y’all are in a hurry to get somewhere …”

“Not too much of a hurry. Just wanna make it to dinner.” Ojiro smiles, patting Osamu and Akagi’s backs. “Where do ya want us?”

Naruko brightens, her cheeks going red. “J-Just keep walkin’! The lighting’s perfect right now, and I wanna take a picture of yer backs with yer volleyball jackets on.” She glances at you, and her expression grows more nervous. “Er …”

You lock eyes with her for a few seconds before catching on. Nodding, you take a step towards Naruko to join her.

Osamu’s hand grasps your shoulder.

His hold is loose, but you bite back the urge to slump over at the sudden warmth of it, pausing instead to look back at him.

“Where’re ya goin’?”

You answer tentatively. “I don’t have a team jacket.”

“That’s fine. You’re walkin’ with us too.”

“Yeah, but …” You wet your lips. “Like, visually, it’ll look weird if one person doesn’t have one on …”

The corner of Osamu’s mouth twitches, and he frowns. You watch as his gaze moves past your shoulder. A sudden, brief twinge of irritation, not belonging to you, zings through your ribcage.

“Why’s that matter?”

“Yeah. C’mon, it’ll be fine,” Ojiro says.

“It’s okay!” Naruko suddenly blurts, and you jolt slightly, looking back at her. She bounces on her feet, voice even higher pitched. “I can do a more candid shot, now that I think about it! A-Actually, Miya-san, could ya give [L/n]-san yer jacket? And Ginjima-san, you can keep yers around yer waist …”

Her sudden change in idea perplexes you a bit. But Osamu seems to be satisfied, and he shrugs his jacket off, placing it over your shoulders.

After a bit of hesitation, you slide your arms through the sleeves.

(It’s just as warm.)

“Ooh, [L/n]-chan’s wearin’ Osamu’s jacket,” Ginjima teases behind his hand, and your face heats up.

“Okay.” Behind you, Naruko lets out a wistful-sounding sigh. “I’m ready. Y’all can start walkin’ now, just like ya were before.”

With only a bit of self-consciousness, the five of you follow her instructions. There are only a few clicks of the camera before Naruko calls out her thanks and goes off without another word, leaving you and the boys to speculate whether you’ll ever see the results.

“How cute,” Akagi comments. “She looked like she was gonna throw up, though.”

“I hope those were conflicting statements.”

“Okay, Aran, I wasn’t implying …”

While the two upperclassmen start to banter, you move to take Osamu’s jacket off, only for him to stop you.

“’S fine,” he says. “You can wear it if ya want.”

“Oh. Okay.”

And so you do.

—

The boys’ first practice game in July is brutal.

Many of your peers have come to watch. It’s a favorite after-school pastime of Inarizaki’s student populace, you’ve quickly discovered, to hop from one athletic club to the other simply to spectate and speculate. People pack the balcony and peek around the doorway, catching the scent of blood and sweat.

Between the crowd’s cheering and jeering, the squeak of sneakers on the gym floor, and the sound of palms ramming into volleyballs, the atmosphere is sharp, almost electric – something that you feel tingling on your skin as you stand on the sidelines, Kobayashi right by your side.

Atsumu delivers another devastating service ace. It ricochets off the corner of the other side of the court with a thunderous boom.

“Did you catch that, [L/n]-chan?” Kobayashi asks, arms crossed. “That was one of his better ones.”

“Ah, sorry, I didn’t.”

“Hm.”

You watch the slow, satisfied stretch of Atsumu’s smile, and wait patiently. “It’s okay. He ain’t done yet.”

Indeed, Atsumu is just getting started. You spare an amused glance at Osamu in front of the net, his hands locked protectively behind his head, before turning back to Atsumu as the volleyball is thrown back to him.

Raising your camera, you adjust the focus, finger ready on the shutter button.

Toss. Run. Jump.

Click.

On your other side, a girl pumps her fists and cheers.

“Wow! Another one!” she gushes.

You smile behind your lens. “Ya always sound so impressed, Tsubaki-chan.”

“I’m just excited! We’re crushin’ them in the last set!”

“’Course we are,” says Kobayashi. “Our offense is that much better. I’m a little disappointed.”

As your upperclassman patiently points out each player’s strengths and weaknesses, you keep an eye on the team and crouch low. You’ve got plenty of photos now that the game’s nearing its end – lots of sets, a few spikes and digs, some flashy jump serves. Hopefully, some of them have turned out halfway decent. Even though you’d widened the aperture to make up for the gym’s crappy lighting and adjusted the shutter speed for blurring, you still worry about your timing.

By the time Inarizaki scores the winning point, you’ve moved to the opposite end of the court and have to race back to capture their reactions.

One thing you like about the volleyball team is how expressive they are. Joy, passion, pride – off the high of a victory, they bare everything, whether it’s through their expressions or the way they move or both.

Tsubaki says your name excitedly as soon as the teams have finished thanking each other, tugging on your arm. “Can I see the action shots, [Y/n]-chan?” she requests.

“Ah, sure.”

You turn the camera towards her, and she leans in as you scroll through the photos, her grin widening.

“Wow! Yer timin’s amazin’. They look so cool!”

The praise brings summer to your cheeks. “Thanks,” you reply genuinely. After a moment of hesitation, you lift the camera again. “Smile, Manager-san?”

Tsubaki doesn’t hesitate to broaden her already present grin, throwing up a peace sign for good measure. Kobayashi looks your way as well, and you take one shot, knowing it will be kept.

“Cute!” Tsubaki exclaims.

Two shadows loom over your shoulders as the girl bestows you with another compliment. When you turn your head to the right, your nose nearly brushes Osamu’s cheek.

“Ya got any good shots of us, [Y/n]?” Atsumu asks expectantly.

“Yes, actually, I did,” you reply, going back through the camera roll with a particular image in mind. You’re only vaguely aware of the warmth they exude as they budge into your personal space, the smell of sweat lingering on their skin. “Here.”

You’re particularly proud of this one. It had been a split second of pure luck, standing on the sidelines when a window of opportunity opened for a fast-tempo set. You had felt it – you knew Atsumu would set to Osamu, and as Osamu jumped, arm reared back as Atsumu sent the ball to him, you had captured it.

Somehow, you always get the timing right with them.

“Cool,” the twins approve proudly.

“Email that one to us, will ya?” Atsumu says. “I ain’t lettin’ you photography nerds hoard it away.”

“She’s sendin’ all these to Arata-senpai, ya dolt.”

“Hey, I wanna see!” Gintama breaks into your little group, trying to sneak a peek in. “Did ya get one of my spikes?”

“Yeah, how about my jump serve?”

“That super cool block me and Ren did in the second set!”

“Didja get one of Coach?”

One by one, the team gathers around you, eager for a glimpse of their successes. The crowding is uncomfortable, but you try your best to show them what you can anyway, feeling a rare sense of pride about your own accomplishments.

You’re happy with your choice.

Tsubaki will be a great manager. Even when you first met her, you knew she had everything she'd need for the job – a passion for the sport, a desire to help others succeed, and an endless amount of perseverance. Inarizaki couldn’t ask for a better person to replace Kobayashi next year. She’ll do well in what she’s decided to do.

And so will you.

—

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