#haikyuu cheating

[keithwatertribegf]

can someone help me find a Haikyuu SMAU x reader. It was Kuroo x reader x Kenma and there was a character named Nozomi I believe. It was very angsty but cute most of it was through texting. Kuroo cheated on reader with Nozomi.

[fatherbrat]

ONE LAST TIME, R. SUNA

sum. two months into your relationship with your current boyfriend, your ex-fwb finally sends you a voicenote to let you know exactly how he feels about it.

feat. rintaro suna

cw. ex-fwb!suna, cheating, mutual masturbation (kinda lol), jealousy, dirty talk, anal mention, pillow humping, possessiveness, degradation

wc. 1.2k

When you posted your first official pictures of you and your new boyfriend, you had expected Suna to react…negatively. You basically braced for impact the moment you hit post, but all you got from him was an Instagram notification and two texts.

sunarin liked your post.

rin ;)

lmk if you want me to delete our pics.  and hmu when you two break up :p

You never bothered replying, initially not sure how to reply, and then forgetting about the texts entirely. The two of you barely have any contact for a few weeks after that, but he's obviously keeping up with your socials; liking every post and viewing every story. It doesn't bother you, but it's weird going cold turkey on your relationship like that. You had expected him to reach out for some sort of closure. You wanted him to. 

Halloween swings by in no time, and (much to you boyfriend’s dismay) you dress up as a sexy nurse. You don’t remember much of the night, but you do know that you posted a picture of you and your friends all dressed up on your story before getting blackout drunk. 

Your phone dies early on in the night. Your friends take good care of you up until it’s time to bring you back home, and you don’t wake up until the afternoon. You don’t check your phone until a couple hours after that—long after it's been turned on and charged to 100%. 

When you finally check it, two particular notifications catch your attention. 

sunarin liked your story. 

rin ;)

Voice Message

The voice message is 12 minutes long. 

You exit your texts immediately, opting to distract yourself by tending to your other notifications. It doesn’t help much. Your mind races, wondering what he was talking about for so long and if it was really so important that he reached out after almost four months of near-silence. 

You toss your phone onto your bed, shaking your head. You try to ignore it, cleaning the bathroom and folding the laundry and vacuuming the living room all in an effort to forget about the lengthy recording sitting in your phone. 

But it doesn’t take long for the curiosity gnawing at you to win. 

You practically run back to your bedroom, grabbing your phone and sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed. Your fingers move quickly across the screen, hitting play without hesitation. 

The first 8 seconds are nearly silent, and you start to wonder if it’s possible that he sent such a long message by mistake.

But then you hear a heavy sigh.

“I like your costume.” His tone is hushed, like he’s telling you a secret. “You look hot.”

There’s another moment of silence, like he’s giving you a chance to change your mind and stop listening. 

But then Suna moans and your eyes nearly bulge out of your head. 

“You never answered my text, y’know. When I asked if you wanted me to delete our pictures. So, uh, I kept ‘em.”

Oh. 

Oh fuck.

“I’m looking at one right now. It’s from last Halloween. When you-“ His breath hitches. “When you went as a Playboy Bunny.”

You remember. Suna dressed as Hugh Hefner and the two of you went to a party together. Then he took you back to his apartment and fucked you while you were still wearing the bunny ears and bowtie. 

You’re pretty positive you’re not wearing the bodysuit in the picture he’s looking at. 

“I don’t know how much of this night you actually remember, but I can describe the picture for you.”

You tense, anticipation sending goosebumps up your arms. 

“You’re kneeling on the ground, looking up at the camera, and you’ve still got those bunny ears on your head.”

This voice message is going in the last direction you thought it would.  Is he—?

“You’ve got cum all over your face, baby.” He laughs to himself before continuing. “And you’re sticking your tongue out like a fucking whore.”

Suna takes a ragged breath, a sound you're all too familiar with. It confirms your suspicions—he’s definitely jerking off. 

“That was a good night. We had a lot of good nights.” He sounds miffed all of a sudden. “I seriously doubt the boyfriend is fucking you as good as I did.”

You suppress a shiver. A pang of guilt heats your chest at the mention of your boyfriend. You should stop listening. Delete the message. Tell him to delete the pictures and then probably block him. 

Or you could let the message keep playing. 

Suna inhales sharply, followed by a shaky moan. You swear you can hear the sound of his fist stroking his dick. 

“I hope you’re not letting him put it in your ass like you let me. That’s our thing, okay?”

Under different circumstances you would have laughed. 

“Fuck,” he hisses. “And I hope you’re not letting him spit in your fucking mouth. Or–shit–doing that thing where you’d suck me off with your head hanging upside down off the bed.” He falters at the end of the sentence, groaning into the phone.

“I’m not gonna–” he interrupts himself, sighing deeply. “I’m not gonna pretend I’ve been happy for you. I miss you.”

You feel hot all over, a heady combination of annoyance and arousal and embarrassment. There’s a dull throbbing between your legs and in the back of your mind you wonder if this is what Suna wanted when he sent the message. 

“Just–just let me fuck you one more time. Okay princess? I’ll make it sooo good for you,” he whines. You can hear his hand picking up speed.

“It’s still early. Two months is nothing, it won’t even count as cheating.” You can hear the smirk in his voice. “God, just one last time. Please?”

Without thinking, you grab a pillow and position yourself over it in a straddle. You won’t let him fuck you, but that doesn’t mean he can’t make you come one last time.

“I promise I’ll do that thing you like with my tongue. And you can pick all the positions if you want to.” There’s a tremble in his voice. “Or just lay there. I’ll do all the work.”

You grind into the pillow beneath you, picturing the expression you know he’d be wearing if he were in front of you–batting those dark eyelashes with raised eyebrows, just barely able to control the smug curve of his lips.

Heat pools in your gut and a whimper falls from your lips. Suna keeps talking.

“I know you miss me. You have to. You’re probably touching yourself to this right now.” 

You gasp softly and rock your hips faster.

“Such a fucking slut.” You hear the telltale quiver in his voice that tells you he’s getting close. “My fucking slut.”

You moan, his words giving you flashbacks.

“Oh fuck. Fuck, I’m coming,” he rasps, before letting off a series of moans and whimpers that almost make you concede. You grind harder into the pillow beneath you, imagining Suna in his room, chest heaving, talking into the phone and making himself come to pictures of you. 

That does it. A tsunami of pleasure washes over you, forcing your body to tense before you go limp, collapsing onto your bed with a shudder.

You and Suna breathe in tandem, both of you catching your breath. 

You hear another laugh through the phone. “Damn, that was a lot.” There’s the sound of sheets rustling. “Kinda made a mess, princess.”

He’s silent for another few beats before clearing his throat. “Text me, okay?” he says quietly. “Please.”

The voice message ends.

part two

[sugurouge]

— sting: alpha!miya atsumu x omega!f!reader

content warnings! DARK CONTENT, taboo topics, non-canon, (pseudo-)incest, stepcest, omegaverse, heavy topics of jealousy, possessiveness, dubcon marking, begging, very submissive reader, cheating, breeding kink, dubcon knotting, obsession, some blood

summary: in a society divided by secondary genders, a young girl is adopted into the prestigious miya family, defying conventions due to her undeniable charm & precious nature. as you grow up, your bond with atsumu shifts, leading to a complex mix of emotions & forbidden desires

wordcount: 4.6k

fyi: atsumu & reader were pretty much attracted to another since her secondary gender was revealed. reader is one year younger than the twins

a/n: for @goxjo's omegaverse collab! make sure to check out the other works if you've enjoyed my lil story. pspsps thank you for letting me join, aki my luv (˶˃ᆺ˂˶)

──── ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧ ────

by clicking read more you are agreeing to consume and read dark content.

In a society where the hierarchies of alphas, betas, and omegas define social standing and family legacy, adoption is a rarity. Families fiercely guard their bloodlines, refusing to weaken their position with the introduction of an outsider. Yet, in the case of the Miya family, exceptions were made when they saw you. Abandoning a helpless young girl you was never an for your future mother. You were too precious to be left behind.

From the moment your adoptive parents met you, it felt like a blessing. Your sparkling eyes and adorable smile captivated them in an instant. You, in all your little glory, were a true delight.

Neither you nor your new family can recall a time before you became part of their lives. The notion of your adoption was never mentioned, for it didn't matter. To you, they were simply your family, your pack. The protective embrace of the Miya family, renowned alphas, became your sanctuary. Under their care, the eventual reveal of your secondary gender was irrelevant. What mattered was the bond, the love, and the undeniable connection that tied you all together.

To your older brothers, you were their cherished little sister—sweet, gentle, and always eager to bridge the gap between them. You strived to ease their conflicts and show your love for each one of them, appreciating their unique qualities and talents equally.

Yes, you had no favourite. You loved them equally, and they both loved you in return, as their family. Until one didn't. Until something changed.

Suddenly, one of them seemed bothered by your mere presence. Always leaving the second you entered the same room, averting his gaze if your eyes were to ever meet, and ignoring your entire being at school.

This intoxicating, honey-like vapour with hints of candied oranges radiates out for metres around, drenching the halls of Inarizaki High and leaving Atsumu drunk on you.

He can't think straight, can’t focus on sports or academics. You’re the unofficial reason girls are now banned from volleyball practice. Even worse, you’re practically banned from his life. The shift from affectionate brother to distanced meanie was too sudden for you to not feel hurt. So much for your sweet sixteen…

You practically ruined him overnight, your secondary gender holding effects unexpected to it. Now, instead of grabbing ice cream as a group of three, it's you alone. Unless Osamu can join, but even that seems to annoy the faux-blond. He seems irritated by everything you do or do not do. You’re lucky if he walks off without saying a word, as every time Atsumu loses control over his emotions you end up crying in your mother’s embrace. He locks himself in his room and tries to rid himself of the nasty thoughts and feelings he holds inside.

But then there are moments...

Moments when he turns soft, when you meet at night by accident in the kitchen and he’s too drowsy to control his instincts. Suddenly, gentle eyes can't seem to look at anything but you. Suddenly, the smallest space between you seems unbearable to Atsumu.

And you let him. You’re no better.

You embrace him, gently running your fingers through his hair, and hum softly—your tender care is utterly captivating. How could his hands not grasp the fabric of your shirt, his arms tightening around you to hold you close, as the warmth between you rises and your hearts beat in unison?

Yet, it all fades at the break of dawn.  Only a faint blend of your scents lingers—reminiscent of breakfast, with comforting notes of cinnamon and sugar. 

It’s as if the scene abruptly shifts, like a sudden cut in a film. The atmosphere returns to its former state, and you find yourself once again only conversing with Osamu. 

◈ 

Until you turn 18.

Until your first heat starts. Your nest made of anything you could grab in time, stealing blankets, pillows, an accidental hoodie of Atsumu.Something about it seemed so awfully comforting, you couldn’t refuse.

At night, you weep with your face buried in the fabrics, trying to muffle the sounds of your distress while immersing yourself in the rich aroma of cinnamon and spice. You’re burning from the inside, the need to rip your skin from your bones is almost unbearable. Your feverish state leaves you crying under the moonlight's embrace, a trembling plea of desperate longing echoes throughout the night. You crave, you need, more.

But what about your brothers? While they were both forced to wear earbuds and use scent blockers, one suffered just as much as you. Instincts, after all, cannot be completely suppressed.

Atsumu groans, his head sinking into the pillows of his bed as his eyes flutter shut.. God, he loathes this. Loathes having to run his own hands over his physique to remove his shirt. He would much rather feel your soft fingertips dip beneath the fabric and explore his heated torso. Every passing second more agonising than the one before. His only refuge is the enveloping darkness as he presses his eyes shut, desperate to escape the burning torment he's sinking into. He can hear you through the walls, your whines and moans of pain piercing through his solitude.

He really needs to move out.

◈

Your parents welcome you into adulthood, finally granting you the freedom to seek out your life partner, your mate. Yet, your brother won’t even give you the chance to explore this new chapter.

No, after that night, everything changes. He’s unnervingly close, pressing himself against your back, shamelessly inhaling your scent, burying his face in the nape of your neck. He decks you in compliments and constant touches.

Suddenly, he's everywhere around you, determined to keep anyone else at a distance instead. He insists you wear his jackets to school, wrapping you in his scent and effectively isolating you from the world. His overprotective behaviour is so extreme that even your parents are baffled by Atsumu’s mood swings. His intentions unclear as they all believe in the family bond you all have built over the years. 

And you never voice a word of complaint. You would never even dream of challenging Atsumu’s behaviour. In fact, you seem to revel in it.

Despite Osamu’s growing suspicions and the concern it stirs in your parents, their advice falls on deaf ears. Both of you refuse their suggestion: after all, he’s your brother! You feel secure with him close by and aren’t ready to meet your alpha yet. So, your parents can only observe from the sidelines, hoping and praying it’s smooth sailing until the twins move out.

Until the nest is empty.

◈

What they don’t know is how your older brother projects the echoes of your cries and whimpers during your nights in heat onto his fleeting encounters. At 26, he remains resolutely single, every blind date a disappointment, every hookup unsatisfying and hollow. The desire he feels for you overshadows every attempt at connection, leaving him unfulfilled and unwilling to commit.

Everything seems colourless, flavourless-until family calls.

◈

You’ve moved abroad for your studies, seeking to put distance between you and Atsumu, desperate to suppress the sick thoughts and desires that have plagued your mind. You hoped that a change of scenery, far from Japan, would help you start fresh, to find your alpha and live a life untainted by these unsettling feelings.

Yet, returning home for Osamu’s engagement presents an unexpected challenge. The stage is set: the occasion is beautiful, with halls adorned in flowers and sweets to celebrate the festivities. But amidst the elegant decorations, nothing captivates quite like you. Your presence is intoxicating to Atsumu, who can hardly contain himself. Forgive him for losing his composure. Don’t mind the intense stares from across the room, the desire pooling in his dark eyes that burns into your back. Promises made to his brother were forgotten the second he got a glimpse of you.

Suddenly, the suit feels too tight, the necktie suffocating, and his palms dry. Here you are. You, in a stunning dress that accentuates every curve. You radiate a glowing allure that confirms—you're at your prime, ripe for the taking.

A strong arm wraps around your waist, the heat of his body searing through the fabric of your dress. Without needing to turn, you already know who it is; his name escapes your glossed lips. “Atsumu.”

He pulls you close, his presence enveloping you, his voice soft and sheepish against your ear. “I’ve missed ya,” he confesses, the warmth of his touch sending shivers down your spine.

You’ve missed him too, of course. Yet you tried to replace him with someone morally acceptable—a volleyball player from New York, who bore a slight resemblance to your brother. But could he ever truly fill the void left by Atsumu?

The sweet mixture of scents turns sour before you can even reply to Atsumu, before you can admit how much you’ve missed him as well. His fingertips explore your neck, lingering on your scent gland, fainted dents still feasible for his touch. The pressure borders on painful, as he demands an answer with a dangerous edge: “Who?”

If looks could kill, you’d be a dead woman. Your anxious scent mingles with his anger, creating an intense atmosphere that seems to draw everyone’s attention. The events unfold faster than your family can react. You feel the sting of his nails digging into your skin, jealousy manifesting as sharp pain as blood threatens to stain your dress.

Osamu, ever the protector, shields you from Atsumu’s anger, ensuring to guide you out of the halls in a rush. “I apologise for what he did,” the dark-haired twin mumbles, as he patches you up. “It wasn’t supposed to go like this, I promise.” He meets your eyes with a searching look. “He swore to keep his distance. And I thought you’d bring your boyfriend.”

You finally admit in defeat, “He couldn’t make it. I didn’t want to pressure him either—it’s too soon for him to fly over ten hours just to meet my…” You hesitate, casting a glance around the room as a deep sigh escapes you, “…family.”

Osamu nods, understanding. He returns to kneeling in front you, his expression filled with concern. “I hoped that after all these years, Atsumu would have cooled off.”

You cut him off, feeling an odd need to defend the blond. “He never did anything wrong,” you insist, trying to convince both Osamu and yourself as your gaze falters. “I’m just as much to blame as he is.” With this declaration, you rise and offer Osamu your hand, helping him back to his soon-to-be wife and the rest of the guests.

Nothing could have prepared you for the smell—the overpowering stench that no flowers could mask. Atsumu sits at the table, his eyes unfocused as your father speaks to him, the words a blur as his lips move too fast for you to catch. You only learn the outcome of the conversation when your mother asks you to approach your oldest brother.

Standing beside him now feels different, a new layer of fear creeping into your emotions—something you never anticipated feeling from him. “I’m sorry,” Atsumu finally breaks the heavy silence, straightening up to face you while avoiding your eyes. “I guess my protective instincts went a bit overboard after… all these years.” He clears his throat, cringing slightly at his own words.

With all eyes on you, you can only hum in agreement before you’re guided to sit beside Atsumu. The effort to mask the sour scent of his anger and soothe him only possible with you being closeby. You have to forget about your own feelings for the day; after all, the event is meant for enjoyment and celebration. Every smile you force, every laugh you share feels tainted with an aftertaste of discomfort, yet you try to maintain a semblance of normalcy, for Osamu.

But the close proximity—shoulders brushing, hands fleetingly touching, eyes meeting—heightens the tension between you. Your heart races uncontrollably, and shivers travel down your spine, each sensation a reminder of the internal struggle between your morals and instincts.

Atsumu, everso selfless, extended an offer for you to stay at his apartment. It was a gesture of goodwill, though it now feels like an unexpected complication. No one anticipated his behaviour would spiral this much, especially after the plans had been made. Your parents, trusting their children, hoped that Atsumu would have matured enough and that staying at his place would be more comfortable for you. They assumed you were busy enough with your studies and the hassle of flying back home to Japan that they simply decided for you weeks ago.

But as the door to Atsumu’s apartment clicks shut, the reality of the situation settles in. The safety of this space, the sanctuary you hoped for, now feels like a fighting ring where the unresolved tension might only grow.

Atsumu carefully guides you to your room, setting down your luggage, while repeating the same sentence over and over in his head: “Let her in and leave, lock your door, go to sleep.” Yet, as he turns to face you, his presence looms over you like a storm, his hands grazing your neck with a possessive, almost reverent touch, as his eyes lock onto yours.

“Who?” he asks again, his voice a low, dangerous murmur that sends shivers down your spine.

The blockers you’ve relied on falter under the overwhelming force of his scent, a potent mix of spice and raw desire that fills the room and stirs something deep and primal within you. You try to form a coherent response, try to remember the name of your partner, but your mind is consumed by the intoxicating presence of Atsumu. Each breath you take is thick with his scent, and you find yourself struggling to maintain a shred of rational thought.

Your attempt to explain dissolves into a stuttering mess, and all you can manage is a pathetic, “Not you.” The words escape your lips as a weak, desperate whimper, and Atsumu’s reaction is immediate and intense. A guttural groan of frustration erupts from him as he seizes your hips, pulling you roughly against his chest. His powerful arms encircle you, creating a cocoon of warmth that feels both incredibly comforting and alarmingly suffocating.

You can’t deny the wave of relief that washes over you as his scent engulfs you, blending with your own and heightening the undeniable ache between your legs. The slickness pooling in your panties is a blatant testament to your arousal, and Atsumu’s keen senses pick up on it immediately. His fingers dig into your body with a possessive urgency that makes your head spin.

A mental war rages within you: the clear, rational part of your mind screams that this is wrong, that your relationship with Atsumu is taboo and fraught with complications. But it’s overpowered by a darker, primal greed that drives you to clutch at him with a fervent need. You can’t ignore the way your body responds to his touch, the way every fibre of your being craves him despite the guilt and confusion clouding your thoughts.

Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer as your lips brush against his neck. A desperate plea slips from your lips, echoing a longing you can no longer suppress. “Alpha…”

Atsumu’s groan vibrates through your body as his lips trail down your jawline, a possessive hunger that makes your knees weak. His tongue flicks over your scent gland, marking his claim with a rasping, “Mine, always been mine.” And it all gets too much for little you. Tears stream down your cheeks as you plead, “Tsumu… please…” Each cry is a mix of desperation and guilt, torn between what you know is wrong and the overpowering need within you.

“You’re telling me you belong to someone else? Yet you beg for me,” he speak lowly into your ear. As his sounds and murmurs fill your ear, the boundaries of right and wrong blur, leaving you surrendering to Atsumu’s fierce desire. His hands grip your waist with a primal hunger, the scent of desire thick in the air as he towers over you. 

You shake your head, incoherent cries escaping your lips. “Just you… Ever always… Tsumu… Yours…” Atsumu’s breath hitches as he nips at your neck, his canines grazing your skin with a tantalising edge that sends shivers down your spine. The primal need within you breaks free, overwhelming your morals.

His erection presses against your tummy, the scandalous sensation causing a moan to escape you. You arch your body, craving the heat and pressure only he can provide. Atsumu’s grip tightens, fingers digging into your flesh as he revels in your response.

“Good omega,” he growls, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through you. His hands explore your body, tracing your curves before sliding under your dress to caress your bare skin. Every touch is electric, fueling the fire between you.

When his fingers brush against your damp panties, Atsumu’s leans closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “You’re mine, every part of you.” You moan in reply as his touch makes your body tremble, his weight pressing against you with a throbbing intensity.

“Please…” you beg, grinding against him, seeking more friction. “Tsumu… I need…” The energy almost driving you to come undone already, each touch overwhelming your self-control.

Atsumu’s movements are motivated by an insatiable need, his rough hands unrelenting as he pushes you onto the bed. “I need you,” he utters, his voice thick with desire. Your heart pounds, anticipation and desperation spiralling out of control as he undresses, his clothes hitting the floor in a blur. The raw need coursing through you is almost unbearable, each second that passes intensifying your craving. His every movement is a tease, a promise of the release you’re aching for, and your body trembles with a desperate hunger that feels as though you need him to survive.

He tears away your dress with frantic urgency, his lips scattering kisses across your exposed skin. “So perfect,” he murmurs into your skin, his breath hot and ragged. His touch ignites a fresh wave of need as his lips trail down your collarbone, his fingers finding the hem of your panties and stripping them away with fervent determination. “Tell me what you want,” he demands, his voice a low rasp.

When he finally tastes you, his tongue exploring your core with hungry abandon, each lick fuels the fire within. “More,” you plead, “Please, Tsumu, more!”

He hums in approval, swearing to himself to give you everything you crave. As he positions himself between your thighs, his body presses against yours with an intensity that leaves you breathless. Atsumu’s breath comes in ragged bursts as he looks down at you, his eyes dark with an almost feverish desire. “Maybe I should just fuck you senseless,” he muses, his voice thick with hunger. You whine in need, your body trembling as you practically drool over the sight of him. His slightly too-big cock rubs teasingly against your folds, each friction sending jolts of pleasure through your core.

“Gonna fill that sweet little cunt with my cum…” he groans, his words a sultry promise as he coats himself with your juices. Without any further preparation, he pushes into you. The stretch is overwhelming—too much, too good, too painful, yet just right. It’s as if he belongs inside you.

Your body arches instinctively to meet him, a desperate cry escaping your lips as you revel in the sensation. The connection between you both is undeniable, and with each inch that he sinks deeper, you’re consumed by the desperate need that has built up between you over the years.

Atsumu moans in response to your cries, his voice a low growl. “Breed you all day long, fuck…” he continues, his words a promise of unrelenting passion. He pauses for a moment, his hand gripping your hip tightly to hold you in place. The tip of his cock presses deeply into your fluttering walls, each thrust reaching parts of you that make your body shiver.

“Not already coming from just this, are you, baby?” Atsumu growls, his breath hot against your skin. His voice is laced with a mix of teasing and hunger, the edge of possessiveness clear in his tone. When you nod, your soft mewls send shivers through him.

Your arms tighten around his neck, pressing your face against his warm, soft skin as you beg, “Please, plea—ah, take care of me.” Your desperation is punctuated by those pathetic little whimpers, a level of need that drives your Alpha absolutely insane.

Atsumu pulls out of you momentarily, his gaze locked on yours. He groans, “‘Course I will,” before his hips snap forward again, plunging into you with a relentless force. Each thrust is driven by years of pent-up frustration and need, every motion filled with unfiltered desire.

You writhe beneath him, consumed by an overwhelming urge for his bite, his cock, his knot. You crave to be filled to the brim, your body yearning to be stretched and stuffed until you're perfectly round and swollen. “Tsumu” Your voice is desperate, barely recognizable as your own, laced with need. “I'm breeding your sweet little cunt and you’re going to take every. single. drop.” With the last words he already thrusts harshly into you. Big hands claw into your waist, forcing your body to arch helplessly as he dominates you. His thrusts are deep and relentless, each powerful movement making the fat of your ass jiggle. “Such a good bunny…” Atsumu groans, his voice dripping with possessive satisfaction.

“Now, come for me,” Atsumu commands, his gaze fixed on your quivering form. “Come all over me.” Desperation claws at you as you seek your release, your weak hands scratching at Atsumu’s back, leaving red streaks that burn on his skin. Legs spread wide for your alpha, your breasts bounce with every forceful thrust of Atsumu’s hips, connecting with yours in a delightful rhythm. Pleasure clouds your mind, reducing you to a chant of his name, each utterance a desperate plea.

Atsumu's mind roars with need as he looks down at you. He wants to mark you, claim you completely, and breed you. Now that he has you beneath him, he is determined to savour every moment, to ensure you are utterly his. He wants to see you drunk on his cock, to take care of you, his darling omega, until all but him is forgotten.

Atsumu feels you clenching around him, your tightness pushing him to the brink. “Just like that, good girl,” he groans, his voice rough with need. “You’re gonna make me cum.” The desire in his eyes is fierce as he thrusts deeper, the remnants of his control fraying with every movement.

With each powerful thrust, Atsumu's need to possess you grows. He envisions you marked, claimed, and filled by him, an unbreakable bond forged in this moment of passion. The rhythm of your bodies is a dance of primal desire, your cries of ecstasy blending with his guttural groans. The world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you, lost in a whirlwind of pleasure and need.

As you feel the peak of your release approaching, your body tightens around him, every nerve ending aflame with sensation. Atsumu's words, his touch, his presence, all coalesce into a symphony of desire that drives you over the edge. You tremble beneath him, your breaths coming in ragged gasps, your heart pounding in time with the rhythm of his thrusts.

You ache for him to release inside you, to fill you to the brim with the warmth you craved. The slap of his thighs against yours, the wet, frantic noises, and the erratic breaths all that fills the space between you. His strong scent envelops you, mingling with your own, as his fingers find your clit, rubbing with a relentless rhythm. The pleasure is overwhelming, stars exploding behind your closed eyes, your mind unable to grasp anything but the ecstasy he is giving you.

Atsumu’s chest presses heavily against you, a constant reminder of his dominance. “Don’t ever forget—” he rasps, his grip tightening on your hips. “That pretty cunt… these perfect tits… every damn inch of you belongs to me.” His words were a possessive threat, a vow of ownership.

He has you, his delicate omega, completely at his mercy. He's never going to give you away again. He feels high thanks to the way you unravel beneath him, turning you into a trembling, sobbing mess, overwhelmed by the intensity of his touch and the sheer force of his desire.

In that moment, you both reach the pinnacle of your desires, your high-pitched moans intertwining with Atsumu's deep, guttural ones. And he fills you so deliciously. Atsumu’s knot swells, pressing tightly inside you as he fills you with his cum. Each pulse of his release sends waves of ecstasy through you, making you feel as if you’re on the brink of losing yourself. His teeth bite down on your neck, and the stinging sensation sends lightning to course through your weakened frame, chiselling your bond in stone. It feels as though the world has narrowed to just the two of you, your bodies entangled in a state of perfect, overwhelming bliss. “Mine, all mine...” the hushed promised whispered into your nape.

As the sensations finally begin to recede, you drift into unconsciousness, the warmth of sleep enveloping you and providing a hazy escape from mistakes made in the dark.

[vilintciay]

" Ohh mmfp- FUCK..! Waka- TOSHI!.. Ahgg- God-."

Your eyes rolled back to the back of your skull, drool seeping out from the corner of your mouth. Above you was Ushijima Wakatoshi, ruthlessly pounding into you from behind, keeping both your arms pinned behind your back with a grip of a single hand as he pressed you further and further into the mattress from how hard he was fucking you stupid.

Your head laid turned to the side, cheek pressed up on cushion below as you gazed up at him with your ass in the air, stood and displayed all for him to bury his thick cock balls deep inside your tight, sloppy wet cunt.

"Ahhg- mnpff- mm- yeah! Ohh fuuckk! Yes, yes, right there!"

You mewled and cried out with pleasure, moaning and whining under him while his expression stood the same. A stoic and blank face with dark and lust filled eyes taking up each bounce and jiggle of your tits, ass, and thighs whenever he'd pull out his thick cock out of your tight cunt, plunging back in hard and rough. Grunting only occasionally.

You were out of it. So fucking out of it that you didn't even notice the sound of your apartment's door opening, light shuffling coming from the living room as someone called out a greeting. But it didn't reach you. Too fucked up and cock drunk that you could only focus on the way his hand would lift in the air to land a harsh and almost skin-tearing smack on your ass, squealing with delight as pain mixed with pleasure, stomach twisting tighter and tighter.

Your orgasm was building up fast, so fast you could barely catch up with your own breathing, slowly coming undone beneath him as you writhe, screaming out his name so loud you weren't surprised if you'd get at least 10 noise complaints from your neighbors. Oh wait.. that's right. This wasn't your house.

With a full body shudder, you felt the knot in your stomach completely burst, squeezing down hard on his pulsing cock as you squirted all over him and the bed below before slumping over and panting. What was I thinking of again?

Oh right, this wasn't my house. This... Wasn't my house?

... Oh. Right. It was his house. But only I didn't live here anymore.

It was only then you'd snap out of your daze, the door to the bedroom opening, your head snapping to look over at the door way. There stood a familiar woman, looking dumbfounded.

"Babe..?"

You were now his ex-girlfriend after all.

[sunahsvt]

—DON'T BELIEVE THE SIGNS

miya atsumu x fem!reader

+ angst (no comfort what y'all expect), lovers to exes

other tags: microcheating, LAZY WRITING, babe/baby nicknames, small cases

wc: 833

note: not proud of this one but i was itching to start and finish this tonight. so :-) not proofread yet again. also if yall read this note pls drop some hq angst series in my ask box plsplspls

DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR POST ANYWHERE IN OTHER PLATFORMS

atsumu loves you. he definitely does.

a year into the relationship— and six months of courting— he can say he's contented with you, and he shows it through his words and actions.

there was a time when atsumu drove past the hotel where his ex— who he once thought of was his greatest love— booked their first anniversary to.

you were on the passenger seat, your hand on his where it rests on your lap, fully unaware what was going through his mind. both his hand twitched. you, who didn't let things go unnoticed, giggled at him, brushing your thumbs on the back of his hand.

in his eyes, of course, you're his greatest love.

atsumu walks through the aisle, cart in tow. his eyes saw a chocolate bar he hasn't seen in a while— the exact chocolate bar that his ex had given him for valentine's one time.

he shook his head, asking to himself why he was still reminded of her.

he didn't think much of it the first and second time, but as time went by and more things reminded him of his past lover, he was almost convinced the universe was giving him signs that maybe he hasn't really moved on— that maybe you two weren't really meant for forever. he was almost convinced.

and because he wasn't fully convinced, he didn't do anything about it, but you were beginning to notice something was off.

"baby, did you get my chocolates?"

"yeah, it should still be inside one of the paper bags."

you jumped off of your seat, eyes tired from looking at your laptop screen due to your work from home job.

you croached down to look for the 3 musketeers chocolate you dearly love, but there was only maltesers and twix bars. you frowned.

"i don't see any muskeeters in here, babe," you whined.

his eyes furrowed, "huh? i bought maltesers. aren't those your fave?"

you shook your head, your lips forming a thin line.

atsumu's eyes widen slightly in realization, you almost didn't catch it.

the silence passed for a minute, both of you staring at each other. you weren't sure if you should confirm it, but in your mind, he didn't need to.

he mistakened her favorite chocolate as your's.

he apologized, but that doesn't mean it didn't get worse. that doesn't mean signs about his ex didn't stop showing up, and that doesn't mean it didn't gradually made him uncomfortable.

y/n: can you take out paella for dinner? cant cook tonight :-(

tsumtsum: ocake

y/n: ty! i love you!

tsumtsum: i love u

when atsumu got home that night, he had bought paella for take out good for two. being a considerate boyfriend, he made sure it wasn't seafood since you're apparently allergic to shellfish.

but when you padded your feet to the dinning room and saw the chicken and chorizo paella, your eyebrows knit together. you weren't a pick eater but seafood, especially shrimp, was your absolute favorite. you were looking forward to having seafood for dinner.

but why isn't it seafood paella?

you gulped the hurt that you were feeling rising up your throat from your chest. atsumu was too busy looking for something to drink in the fridge.

"was there no seafood available?"

he glanced over his shoulder to look at you, "what do you mean? you're allergic."

"babe."

"what?"

"i love seafood."

this time his eyes slowly closed, realizing another mistake. another thing he forgot about you.

"what are you not telling me?"

he couldn't tell you. not when he wasn't sure, so he shook his head, apologized and made up an excuse.

from there on, he kept trying to make up to you. but it just didn't feel the same anymore because it either felt like out of obligation or he was trying to cover up the other things he hurt you for. each time he does, he doesn't realize his temper was thinning.

you tried to communicate with him over and over again whenever something felt off.

but your patience, your empathy, your love can only go so far.

what he doesn't notice is he wipes his lips or cheek whenever you kiss him.

what he doesn't notice is he glowered whenever you talked.

what he doesn't notice is he stopped exerting effort.

he doesn't notice he's showing all the signs that he's gradually falling out of love.

he doesn't notice that he's losing you.

but you do.

you, the silly lover girl who didn't let things go unnoticed.

you tried one last time to communicate to him your feelings. irritated, he only said, "i'm tired of this."

so after you waited him to go to sleep, you decided to leave.

you place a hand on his forehead and kiss the back of your hand as goodbye, fearing that even in his sleep he'd find annoyance in it— that it'd wake him up or he'd wipe the kiss away even in his sleep.

that was the last time atsumu has seen you.

and he noticed now that he shouldn't have believed in the signs.

general masterlist | haikyuu masterlist

DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR POST ANYWHERE IN OTHER PLATFORMS

[ilylovelyz]

hi omg i love your works ,, would you ever write eita semi smut?

⍣ ೋ captain save a hoe

˚ · . semi x afab!reader

: ̗̀➛ semi is a nasty band member, audio recording, i promise semi loves reader tho, cheating, semi-public sex, cockwarmimg, ofc ill do semi eita smut he's like one of the prettiest haikyuu boys >.<

yeah, you wanna kill me 'cuz i fucked ya bitch

semi's hands fondle and stay on your ass, his lips capturing yours into a lazy kiss.

despite the seriousness of this all, you still can't help but grin against his lips, giggling when you feel him reciprocating your contagious smile. "stop it~," you squeal, wrapping your hands around his neck while you readjust your grip of your legs around his waist.

"you're cute," he rasps, his hands still firm against your ass. his eyes are low, full of love and lust as he holds you against him. "you're cute too," you praise back, one of your hands reaching up to entangle with his soft grey locks.

you're currently sitting on his lap, the only thing still on you from the previous evening is your bandeau top and thong. semi is wearing everything aside from his shirt, his pants and boxers pulled down to his thighs. your thong is pulled to the side, his cock fully sheathed into your warm walls.

the two of you have been in this position for almost an hour, basking in each other's presence. neither of you feel a twinge of guilt nor shame, you just can't help yourselves. he can't help the way he's drawn to you, nor help the way his cock twitches at the sight of your short denim skirt. you can't help the way you ignore your boyfriend's many phone-calls, too enamored by the sweet attention the famous band member gives you.

some will call it adultery, the two of you call it love.

"hey, i wanna try something with you." he whispers against your skin, placing sweet open-mouthed kisses against your collarbone. "hm? what is it?" you asks curiously, goosebumps rising on your skin at his warm touches.

he's pulling away from you at that, circling the spinning chair the two of you are in. there's a static hum coming from the audio-speaker when he presses a certain button before it silences when he presses another.

you're eyes widen with curiosity and surprise when he's then pulling a microphone towards your lips. "y-you want me to sing?" you ask bewildered, eyebrow raised with curiosity.

he smirks cheekily at your question. you gasp out when he's suddenly thrusting sharply into you, your hand gripping at his shoulder for purchase. "no, i want you to moan," he casually says, watching with amusement as you subconsciously moan and mewl into the microphone.

a couple of weeks later, your now ex-boyfriend is blowing your phone up with calls and texts, asking for an explanation after you sent him a link to semi's new song, featuring you and your sweet moans.

please leave a like and repost with tags :)

[kyokikikie]

✩ Second Best (T. Kuroo)

masterlist!! Bewitched masterlist(⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

—> in which Y/n slowly realises that she will never have space in his heart.

➤ genre: angst, slight cheating (?), wrong idea of ‘love’

She would never forget how stupid she was.

Jubilant. She was jubilant when the news of Kuroo Tetsuro — the guy that she had pined for since she laid eyes on him, had gotten dumped by his girlfriend. Of course, she did feel bad for him, who would even dare to let such a man slip away from their arms?

She didn’t give a second thought on why he got broken up with. Kuroo was now available. She could return to chasing after him, and soon, he would finally accept her.

That was what she thought.

Kuroo wasn’t oblivious to the way she would look at him, a look full of admiration and affection. She was blinded by love, the perfect person he could use.

So when the volleyball captain came up to her and asked her to be his girl, she was over the moon. “Of course I’ll be your girlfriend!” She beamed, holding the single rose Kuroo had given her. A sigh of relief escaped the male’s mouth, phase one of his scheme was easy. Kuroo gave a mischievous smirk.

Soon, he’ll have his ex crawling back to him, begging to take her back, and he’ll tell the girl before his eyes a lame excuse before accepting his ex with open arms.

For a few months, Kuroo was the sweetest towards Y/n. He would give her flowers every time they met up for a date, gave her the princess treatment, and always made time for her. Everyone would kill to have what she had. The school heartthrob, treating his girl how she deserves to be treated.

Everything was going well. Too well.

On a Sunday night, Kuroo was over at Y/n’s for their weekly cuddles. Unfortunately, a simple message from someone crashed the whole mood. The male picked up his phone to reply to the text, not knowing that his current girlfriend who was beside him could see every single letter being typed out.

Out of anger, she pushed the thick blanket aside and sat up from the bed. Y/n snatched the phone out of Kuroo’s hands, “You’re here enjoying time with YOUR girlfriend and yet still dare to contact your ex?” she emphasised.

“Baby, come on, she reached out first, i was going to shut her down anyways,”

“Bullshit.” She raised her voice and spat. ”Why? The words you typed out surely weren't telling me you were. Why? Am I not enough for you? Was I not enough? Do you even–” Before she had the chance to continue her rambling, Kuroo stepped closer to her and closed the gap between them.

That shut her up.

It wasn’t the first time they had shared a kiss. However, this one made her stood rooted to the ground. When his warm lips touched hers, the warmth that it was supposed to give was missing.

That's when she knew that someone else was in his mind.

Y/n couldn't react and only watched as Kuroo took his bag and left her house, “I promise you, she has no ill intentions.” was all he said. No goodbyes. No ‘see you tomorrow’ like he would usually do. Her boyfriend had left her, frozen and the comfort he gave was ‘she has no ill intentions’?

she couldn't believe it. she didn't want to. She spent all her hard work building this relationship with him, there was no way she's letting it go just because of a simple argument. When the sound of her front door banged shut, her knees gave in and she slumped to the floor, tears streaming down her eyes.

From then on, kisses from him didn't feel as comfortable anymore.

Ever since that day, Kuroo’s eyes were glued to his phone, typing away. Whenever he is out with the h/c-haired girl, his hands will always find their way to the device instead of her hand.

“Kuroo, what should we eat for dinner?”

The rooster-head male shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not hungry.” He replied, eyes darting to the girl next to him and then looked back at his phone. Kuroo was starting to replicate the image of kenma.

The radiant smile on Y/n’s lips faded, she didn’t even bother to reply to him. She knew that as soon as she opened her mouth, heated words would uncontrollably flow out. The girl simply bit the insides of her cheek and continued walking.

Where did the sweet Kuroo go? Who was this man beside her? Where was the person that would give his fullest attention to her?

”Then I’ll get going now.” Y/n came to a stop, looked into his hazel eyes and said. There was no point in spending time with him if all he did was to check his phone every second. “Ah, okay, see you at school.”

That’s all? He didn’t stop her, didn’t ask what was wrong. Not even a kiss goodbye?

The h/c-haired girl scoffed and walked away while her boyfriend continued in the opposite direction.

It was on and off. they would get into arguments almost every week then make up the next day. her friends told her that it was unhealthy and she should just give it up. she couldn't.

So there she was, lying beside him as he let out snores that vibrated down his throat. A smile spread across his face as he slept, a smile that Y/n had been longing to see. She had almost forgotten that he was capable of making such an expression.

She wanted to know what had made him smile like that. How could he sleep so peacefully when their relationship was on thin ice? He didn’t know that on the night of every fight they had, she would always toss and turn on her bed, countless thoughts ran through her mind as she did so.

What was he so happy about? Was he satisfied that her heart was aching the whole time?

Kuroo’s phone buzzed next to her, a notification lit the dark room up. As soon as the h/c-haired girl read the contact name, she knew. She knew the reason behind that lovely dream that he had.

It was none other than the person he told her not to worry about. Ironic isn’t it?

The realisation had stung her heart like a bee, it ached. She wanted to confront Kuroo but the thought of him walking away again held her back. It was just a friendly message asking to meet to catch up, nothing wrong, nothing fishy.

Y/n took a deep breath, she shut her eyes and diverted her thoughts away from it. If only she could warn herself about the future that bestowed upon her.

One of Nekoma’s school gyms was lit up with LED lights from the inside. The colourful lights illuminated the whole gym. It wasn’t too bright, yet it wasn’t too dark. Students chatted away at every corner of the gym, the dance floor was filled with couples and groups of friends that danced like there was no tomorrow.

It was finally the school dance, the event that everyone had been looking forward to.

Loud music played from the large speakers as Y/n made her way to Kuroo whose spikes on his hair made him recognisable through the crowd. He was chatting with his volleyball teammates, taking sips of the cup of punch in his left hand. The boys immediately shifted their gaze to Y/n who was approaching them, “ooh, Kuroo, you’ve got company!” They teased.

Kuroo spun around to see a h/c-haired girl tilting her head slightly to meet his eye.

“Hey, what’s up?” He asked, placing the cup back on his lips while waiting for a reply. But before Y/n could even speak, the volleyball team started chanting. “Dance with her! Dance with her!”

A small smile formed on Kuroo’s lips. It wasn’t as genuine as the one plastered on his face that night, but it was something. Y/n bit the insides of her cheeks and gulped. “Well, what do you say, babe? Care to dance?” Kuroo extended his arm for her to hold onto.

Who was she to deny him? She would do anything for him. It wasn’t an understatement, it’s just how much she loves him.

The couple made their way to the dance floor when the song “Lover” by Taylor swift played. Soon, the dance floor was once again filled with people.

Y/n placed her hands on Kuroo’s shoulders and he placed his on her waist, their feet moved to the rhythm. Her e/c-eyes looked into his hazel ones, Y/n’s lips quirked upwards. To her, it was just the two of them. Everyone in the background disappeared as she focused on the music, she was mesmerised.

But to him, he paid no attention to such details. His eyes wandered across the gym, searching for something to focus on instead of the girl in front of him. A pair of familiar eyes met his, the ones that he had yearned to see.

It was his ex-lover. And she was smiling at him, as if she was saying, “I see that your having fun without me.”

A wide-eyed Kuroo could only stay silent and remain where he was. His guts and his heart wanted to break away from Y/n’s embrace and run towards her, and say “No, never. Not without you, so please, come back to me.” It took all of his willpower to remind himself that it isn’t time. There was a girl, so in love with him that she stayed even when he was clearly using her. He wasn’t that type of person to throw someone away once they’ve done their job, right?

‘Soon,’ the said male reminded himself, ‘Soon, everything will go back to normal.’

The thought of his ex-lover standing by his side again made the corner of his mouth twitch up. He imagined that the h/c-haired girl in front of him was her. Kuroo pulled Y/n closer, resting his chin on the top of her head, they were practically hugging instead of dancing.

Taken back by the sudden intimacy, Y/n finched. Was he finally back to his normal self? The music continued as they spun around, Kuroo was now where Y/n was when they started, his back facing his ex-lover. The couple let the rhythm of the song control their movements. Finally, after months, Y/n felt a sense of comfort.

Though, her smile slipped when she looked over Kuroo’s shoulders.

There, Y/n saw her.

Of course it was her

The way her dress would online her curves, showing just a little cleavage that would still make anyone drool over her. Including her boyfriend, Kuroo. Kuroo and her were once the school’s best couple before they broke up. School heartthrob dating the school heartthrob, a match made in heaven. Y/n could see why Kuroo dated her, she was just as beautiful as the karasuno’s volleyball manager, Kiyoko.

If they stood side by side, Y/n would look like a complete mess beside a goddess.

Y/n’s lips quivered. It was as clear as glass that Kuroo’s sudden attitude towards her was all because of his ex-lover. Heck, was it even towards Y/n?

Her heart had finally shattered. It hurts so much that she finds it humiliating. How could she not notice this earlier? The reason why Kuroo and her were fighting every week was because of his ex. It was sickening to the point that she wanted to burst out laughing right then and there. She was being used.

Kuroo was never hers. His heart only had space for one.

And that one person will never be her.

It had been months since they broke up. The nights were peaceful for her as she no longer needed to worry about their constant fights. She had graduated high-school with scholarships to Tokyo University. Life was better than what she had imagined it would be.

she had moved on. It didn’t bother her that Kuroo got back with his ex-lover weeks after they parted. Y/n expected it and couldn’t care less about Kuroo.

So why? Why was she lying down facing the ceiling and unable to get out of bed?

After being accepted into Tokyo University, her days were like a cycle. She would get out of bed, brush her teeth, and go back to bed, eyes glued to her phone. She would only leave her house if she was hungry.

Y/n scrolled through social media, watching her high-school friends spend their day with each other. Her eyelids were about to fall shut till she saw a familiar rooster head.

It was Kuroo. She had forgotten to block him from her socials…

The hazel eyed male’s lips were split into a grin, and beside him — the one taking the photo, was no longer his ex-lover. It was the love of his life. They were having the best time of his life and the look on Kuroo’s face was something that Y/n had never seen before.

with a sigh, she dropped her phone on the soft mattress of her bed and turned to face the wall.

She was sure she had moved on, so why was she the only one bedridden?

[sur-i-ki]

My love, mine all mine

(Angst-tober, multi-fandom, un-edited)

Author's note: This is pure angst. There is no bright side. This is it (life sucks rn so everyone gotta suffer)

Ever since you were kids, he's known that your loyalty ends up being a convoluted way for you to hold grudges. The lady at the supermarket who side-eyed your mom? She's never understood why a child stares at her with such loathing every time she goes by. Or the girl who stole your friend's toys, she's never getting in a partner or group project with you or your friend. Or even the time that one boy stole your candy. Your fierce love for yourself and others always led to something.

He knows this. He's seen it. Hell, he's even been at the receiving end of it sometimes, He is also aware of the fact that you can never seem to hold a grudge for long if it involves him. Can't not share your lunches with him after a few days, even though he lost your favorite pencil. Can't not be mad at him for forgetting your birthday present when you were teenagers.

In a sense, he should be grateful for that, because when he finally asks you out after so many years of endless pining, you don't greet him with suspicion or hesitation.

He gets a blinding smile and a hug, along with a yes.

And, he is grateful, truly, but sometimes he wants to see how much he can get away with. But all you do is chastise him and then leave him be.

You can't hold a grudge against him.

He got too comfortable with that fact.

Your nose was running. Bringing a tissue to your nostrils, you blow your nose, then rub your hands together. Standing in the snow with heels and a dress, in a trench coat built more for fashion than insulation, was not how you planned to be spending your Saturday evening. Checking your phone once more, you look at the unopened messages you sent an hour ago. Rage rises in your chest, but you tamp it down, knowing that he's been busy, he's been late so many times now.

Sniffling again, you turn carefully and make a trek back into your apartment. Scanning the entry card, you nod and smile at the old ladies lounging on the chairs.

"Back from your date, sweetheart? Already?" one asks, looking up with a confused smile as you press the elevator button.

Looking off to the side to not start crying, you give the best impression of a goofy smile as you scratch the back of your head, replying,

"He got sick, so we had a raincheck,".

You can see the pitying looks, goddammit, and can't this stupid elevator come any faster. The tiny, stupid morsel of hope in your heart makes you check the messages again, and then promptly ceases to exist as you see the "Read 7:45 pm" on there.

There is a tightness in your chest as you wave goodbye to the sweet ladies while entering the elevator, and think that this is what it means to have your heart broken. Locking the door, you kick off the pretty heels, leaving them at the door. Next are the glittering earrings, left behind at the door-side table. You flick the lights on as you hang the trench coat on the coat hooks, and make your way to your bedroom.

The reflection in the full-length mirror catches your eye, and even though you are stunning, you can't help but feel as though you're wearing the best clown costume on this planet. You reach for the zipper of your navy blue dress and let it slide to the ground. Then you hook your hands into the tights; left in a pile beside the dress as you wear your pajamas.

There are tears blurring your vision.

Off comes the eyeliner that you spent countless minutes and YouTube tutorials on. The black-stained makeup wipe is left on the counter; next to it is the pretty pink lipstick that is left uncapped because you were in a hurry.

You grab a blanket and your laptop, then watch a movie before falling asleep, your stomach growling, never have gotten the food that it was promised.

There is a hand on your shoulder. You wake up, startled, all but to come face to face with the one man you don't want to see right now. His face is a little blurry, so you reach for your lamp as he settles beside you on the edge of the bed. The light all but caresses his face, and his eyes glitter with unshed tears.

Gods above, he was so pretty.

You stare him down, unflinchingly, and he cringes away, coming to rest his hand on your leg.

"I'm so sorry-"

You cut him off with words of your own, the acid tearing at your throat as you say them.

"What are we doing?"

The confused look you get is as good of a mask as it gets. But you've known him for so long, and you can read the undercurrent of hurt in there. But you you know him so well, that you can see the understanding in there as well.

"What?"

Heaving out a frustrated sigh, you wave your hand between the two of you, "This. What are we doing here?"

His brows furrow as his eyes chase your hand before flicking back up to your eyes.

"W-what? Babe, I'm sorry, you know-"

The words explode before you can say anything.

"Yes! I always have to know. This is the fourth date, now." The tears build up in your eyes, and his face contorts in concern, "I-I wore the dress you gifted me for tonight. The one you gave a month ago."

He blinks and opens his mouth, but you sit there as nothing but silence rings out around you. It's more deafening than any words he can say.

You feel immensely small as you say your final piece, sliding your leg away from his touch, "I stood for an hour wearing the heels you like. In the snow. And those earrings you like? Because they always make you stare at me? Those almost froze to my skin."

His hands spasm as he reaches for you before pulling them back and settling them in his lap. His head hangs as you finally catch a glimpse of the flowers he brought. "

Your heart all but shatters as you inch forward, and finally does break as you kiss him. There are years of neglect, not listening, and no understanding behind the kiss. It's all you're hurt.

"One last time." his eyes are red. "Kiss me once more."

And you do, because you've always been weak for him. He tastes of the food you would've eaten, the win you could've drunk, and you reel back.

His eyes are full of guilt.

"I forgot because we had a team meeting..."

"So, you had a night out with your co-workers, at the place we were supposed to go?"

"..."

He nods.

You lower your head in a nod.

"What are we doing?"

The tears are coming full-on now. It's been building for a while now, but you thought you had more time. You understand now that you thought wrong. The missing dates, the conversations that die out five times faster, the ignoring.

You've been dating a ghost. With dreams of-

Well, those don't matter now.

"I never thought I'd be the one to hurt you."

You tilt your head back, looking up to hold the tears off, and reply in a thick, choked voice,

"You never think when it comes to me. Always leaving me."

His eyes flit with confusion before they widen in dawning horror and understanding because your shoulders have a slant in them he's never seen against him.

"I deserve more than this,"

His hands come flying to your face, tilting it down as he swallows,

"Babe? I-I, come on. Let's do, do something-"

You gently hold his hands, cupping them, but slowly moving them away by shaking your head

"Every time I see you, I feel more alone." You stand up, pulling him out, out and away and he follows, as he always does, except you're both crying this time. Because you won't let go this time. This was a hurt too deep, too raw, and you know he understands it.

Another flowery perfume envelopes you and you shut your eyes as you push him towards your door.

"I, I still need you."

Your voice is entirely sad, and whimsical as you speak. You've shattered into a million pieces and the remnants of your anger ring out.

"Every time I wake up reaching for you, you aren't there. You changed me, but the thing is; You gave up. Such a long time ago. And even though you were never there, I-" the tears glitter like the earrings beside you on the table, "The worst part is that even though you were never with me, I still love you."

"I can't anymore. I break myself apart so I can pick you from the pieces and live with that."

He reaches and twirls a finger in the curls from your ruined hairstyle, kissing a piece before kissing your cheek.

"I'm sorry. But, but we can work this out. I'll do better!"

He stands outside the door.

"But that's the problem, isn't it. You won't ever be better. Not for me."

And he knows that this is the last he'll see of you. The earrings, the dress, the trench, he knows these memories will haunt him.

"I can't."

And the door slowly shuts, just like your relationship, because its ending was never a door shutting. It was slow, suffocating.

At least, he knows what would make you treat him like the others.

He just didn't realize how big of a price that was.

"But nothing can capture the sting of the venom she's gonna spit out, right now. Won't you kiss me on the mouth and love me like a sailor?"

Satoru, Suguru, Izuku, Shoto, Itadori, Megumi, Tobio, Tetsuro, Toru, Atsumu, Naruto, Shikamaru, Sasuke

+plus more

⇝ 𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴, 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥! 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯

[mihawkhugs]

peach shampoo

haikyuu | miya atsumu x reader | soulwords

a/n : i'm sorry in advance i think?

Miya Atsumu couldn't help but stare at the champagne coloured bottle of shampoo, that sat quietly against the pristine white shelves of the store. The familiar label, the adorable butt shape he used to tease you about, the smell of peach that reminded him of you, it was all nothing but bitter memories now. 

As he picked up the bottle, he couldn't help but rub the soul words on his wrist. What was once coloured a beautiful ebony, had faded into a murky grey, looking lifeless, looking sick, looking gone. As he puts the shampoo into his cart, Miya Atsumu can't help but think of you, of your laugh, of your smile, of your patience and kindness, of your 4, almost 5 years together. 

He can't help but muse, almost dazedly, about how things seemed to end so quickly, and how your blissful times seemed to end so suddenly. 

All because of him. 

Habits are a terrifying thing. You've become so ingrained into every aspect of his life so subtly, that your departure had him feeling frustrated, upset, and most of all, terrified at how deep he had fallen. 

He couldn't fall asleep at night anymore, not when the bed felt so empty, so cold, so alone. Not when there's no one there to entangle themselves with him, stroking his hair, mumbling his name, smelling of peaches and of home. 

Sometimes, at his games, whenever he did a particularly nasty serve, Miya Atsumu jumps for joy, looking for you in the crowds to boast about. But you didn't watch his games anymore, you didn't even come. And Miya Atsumu couldn't help but feel so alone, despite his thousands of fans cheering for him, and his team mates beside him, rejoicing in their win.

He never knew that cheers could make him feel so lonely when they weren't yours. 

When he comes home, Atsumu can't help but anticipate your voice, soft, sleepy and full of love and warmth, calling out to him, "Welcome home Tsumu." He used to be annoyed with your greetings, feeling tired and grumpy from a whole day of training. Your questions bothered him, your tone annoyed him, and he'd give you a look so cold, said words so mean, that hell could have frozen over, and the Devil would have cried. 

But you would always come back even when he apologised half-heartedly, or not at all,  claiming you should have know to give him space, to be less clingy, to be less you. And you'd smile, with sun in your eyes, and peaches on your hair, and you'd forgive him, and come back. He thought he knew you, and was sure you would return. It was just a matter of waiting for you.

You always came back, again and again, until one day, you didn't. And his home, had never seemed so cold before. 

Your little lamps, figurines, drawings were all still in his house. When you left his life, you didn't leave everything behind, leaving behind shards and fragments of you. Your pillow still smelt faintly of your peachy scent, your workplace remained untouched, and your plants were left behind, wilting a little despite Atsumu trying his best to take good care of them. 

He missed seeing your peach shaped (or as he used to say, butt shaped) shampoo in his bathroom, which had unknowingly become a scent that he was so fond of. He missed seeing you on your desk, small hands typing slowly on your keyboard, with the most adorable focused face on earth. He missed seeing your warm smile, that made him feel like he had eaten his grandmother's cooking again. He missed hearing your laugh, they way your snorted, the way your right eye crinkled more than your left, they way your dimples would flash. 

Too bad he didn't miss them soon enough. 

Sometimes he'd remember you, sitting on your couch, gently touching your soul words, as though they were the most fragile thing on earth. You believed in love, so so much, despite growing up in a broken household. You had loved him the way you loved your cat, the way you loved your books, the way you loved life.  You treated him as though he was the most precious thing on earth, giving him undivided love and care, kissing him softly on his forehead, just as you had wished your parents had done for you. You loved, you learnt to love, because the world did not love you, and you would rather die that have anyone grow up loveless, cold. 

But Miya Atsumu didn't believe in love. Not when he had girls throwing themselves at him, not when he was praised as the best setter in Japan. He would make snide comments about your weight, your clothes, the was you smiled, the way you talked. He was the best of the best, the cream of the crop, and to his disdain and disgust, you didn't fit into his expectations of a soulmate. So he sought out love in other places, in other people, who he believed was better, while you waited for him, at hime in the dark, oh so very alone. 

Miya Atsumu thought he had it all (thought he deserved better), until he didn't. 

As he walked through the aisles in the store, Miya Atsumu can't help but remember the day you left. 

Your once chubby cheeks had looked gaunt, and you had looked so tired, dressed messily in your peach pink shirt, and your grey sweatpants. You had a cooling pad pasted against your head, and you looked messy, and not the picture perfect fiancé he wanted you to be. 

As you were about to leave the house, Miya Atsumu had stopped you, eyes looking up and down critically against your figure, nose scrunching in distaste. He had snidely commented on you, comparing you to the beautiful blonde model who had followed him on his Instagram page. 

"You look so ugly. Why did I get stuck with you as my soulmate?"

 If Atsumu had looked up from his phone, he would have seen your face crumple and fall, heard your heart finally shatter after being hurt again, seen the exhaustion in your eyes, the bitterness and jaded look he had once seen on your divorced parents. As you hesitantly twisted your engagement ring, you left the house quietly, returning later on, with steely determination. 

But of course, Miya Atsumu didn't notice as usual, because he was too busy chatting up the hot blonde model, who had DM'ed him, showering her in compliments, sending her flirty comments. He seemed to be able to love everyone, but yourself. 

When you had returned, he was in bed, still on his phone, ignoring you as you slipped in quietly, feeling cold despite being in a heated room, with the supposed love of your life beside you.

You had taken of your ring for the first time, placing it on the dresser, placing it down alongside your hopes and dream about a kind lover, about a beautiful love, and a happy wedding. You placed down your hopes and dreams about love, and something seemed to ache so bad in your chest. 

You had turned, and smiled at Atsumu, as soft and kind as the first day you both met in high school. Your tone was as warm as usual, but what came out of your mouth was bitter, was simmering with rage, and the grief of a broken heart, and a soulmate who was never really yours. 

"You know what Atsumu? You were right, just like you always are. Love doesn't exist."

He had ignored your words, and you couldn't help but smile wistfully, looking at your soulmate who was texting someone, and what you both could have been. 

When Atsumu had come back at night the next day for training, you were gone, leaving only your non-essentials behind. He had waited for you to come back, like you always did, like he knew you would, but you never did. 

And while his house was empty, his heart felt lonelier than ever, loosing someone he never knew had become precious to him.

All that remained that night was the scent of peaches and regret. 

Miya Atsumu placed the newly bought shampoo in his bathroom, in the spot where you used to put it, "Right beside yours so we're always together!", you'd proclaim.

As he took a shower before laying in bed, admiring his new soft and scented hair, he can't help but look at the barren spot where you used to lay, reaching out for one of the plushies he had won for you, that you had cruelly left behind. 

And tonight, he prayed that the smell of peaches, would overpower the scent and ache of loneliness in his home, because you were gone, and never coming back.

[emmyrosee]

@lyekai hope you don’t mind me tagging you el oh el I WASNT GONNA GO THERE BUT I SO BADLY WANTED TO GO THERE.

He cannot stand it when you ask questions like that, because he can’t figure out if you’re joking, or if you’re serious; you’ve asked weirder, sure, but this is a complete left field.

“You want to what?”

“I want to hold your wiener while you pee,” you say, and your confidence once again makes him want to scream in confusion. He tucks his lips in to try and hold back the grin and laughter that wants to spill out, hanging his head in playful embarrassment.

“Okay. Why?”

You offer him a shrug, “just want to know what it feels like. Does it jerk, does it tense up, does it like… vibrate?”

“VIBRATE?!”

“Not real vibrations!” You defend, laughing hysterically. “Just like… shake! You know what I mean?”

“NO!”

“Well maybe you should let me hold it and find out,” you say; your cockiness is endearing, he must confess. “For science, of course.”

“This can’t be happening,” he pants in shock. “There’s no way this is my life. What did I do wrong?”

You snicker and throw a pillow at him, “shut up. Remember, you asked me out, assclown.”

“And I’ve never been able to forgive myself.” His hands scrub down his face as he tries to find a way out of this, “how does it feel when you pee? Cant you go based off that?”

“But what if it’s different, yoomi? What if it’s different for everyone? Are you truly going to shy away from science?”

He’s going to leave you. He swears.

“Fine,” he says, screwing his eyes shut. “Fine. Oh my god. Fine. Let’s go.”

“Really?!”

“Do not make me regret this,” he says firmly, pointing a long finger at you. You beam happily and leap to your feet to follow him to the bathroom. Your fingers reach for his, and while any sane man would swat them away, he laces his with them, squeezing your hand softly in affirmation that he loves you.

Why he loves you? No clue.

“You know,” you hum, and he snarls softly as if knowing where you’re going. “Since it could be different for everyone-“

“I’ll break up with you. I swear to god. Don’t even think about the end of that sentence.”

“Noted,” you giggle while he rolls his eyes.

[fatherbrat]

TELL ME AGAIN, R. SUNA

sum. sequel to one last time. you visit suna after listening to the voicenote he sent you, just to talk, and end up doing a little more than that.

feat. rintaro suna

cw. cheating/infidelity, suna really got on my nerves while i was writing this and he'll probably get on yours too, arguing, choking (m. receiving), edging, cunnilingus, a little manhandling kinda, missionary, multiple instances of "i miss/ed you"

wc. 2k

Suna tries his best to keep the shit-eating grin off his face when you text him to ask if he’s home. 

He knew that voice message would get you. There was a tiny voice in his head that told him it would be a monumental embarrassment if you didn’t, but it was drowned out by all the other voices in his head telling him to send, send, send, send.

His stomach turns with anticipation. He doesn’t even answer your question, just orders an Uber and sends you the car make and model and how long it will take to get to your apartment. 6 minutes. And then 12 minutes from yours to his. 

He fishes out the fancy santal candle he knows you like from beneath the bathroom sink and lights it in his bedroom. Then he brushes his teeth and puts some music on and waits.

He jumps when the doorbell rings.

There’s a moment of silence when he opens the door, the two of you just looking at each other. It hits Suna that this is the first time he’s seen you in person in months. He used to see you everyday. There's a part of his chest that seems to ache at the realization. He ignores it.

“Hi,” you breathe.

He blinks once. Twice. “Hey.” He opens the door a little wider and shifts to the side so you can come in.

You take one step closer and then stop, eyeing him with unjust suspicion. “I didn’t come over here to fuck you.”

Suna takes one look at your outfit—shorts that are definitely too short to be comfortable in this chilly fall weather and a sweatshirt he’s pretty sure is his—and knows you’re lying. He doesn’t call you out, just grins and shrugs and ushers you inside anyway. 

You lean against the kitchen counter to survey the living room, pleased to see that it looks exactly the same as the last time you were here. Suna’s still standing by the door when you look at him again, arms crossed.

“So why’d you come over?” he asks.

It’s your turn to shrug. “You said you missed me.”

“Did I?”

You give him a sideways look. “You did.” You drag out the two words, nodding slowly and widening your eyes as if you’re speaking to a child.

Suna tilts his head to the side, smiling a little. “What else did I say?”

Oh lord. You should’ve known he’d be annoying about it. You shift your gaze up to the ceiling, pretending to struggle to remember even though you listened to his message several times, including once on the car ride over. 

“You said you weren’t happy for me…which is pretty fucked up.”

Suna just rolls his eyes. “What else?”

Eyes on the ceiling again. “You said you liked my Halloween costume. And that if I had sex with you it wouldn’t count as cheating because I haven’t been with him that long.” You put air quotes around his claim, sliding your eyes back down to meet his.

He’s standing closer to you now than he was a minute ago, looking like he’s holding back a laugh. “Now that part’s fucked up. Where is the boyfriend, by the way?”

You make a face and look at the time on the microwave. “Probably home. Probably asleep.”

“Yeah? How’s he doing?” He closes what’s left of the gap between you and tugs on the drawstring of your (his) sweatshirt to even out both ends.

“Fine…” you whisper, breath hitching when his hand brushes your ear on the way to your hoodie.

He hums after fixing the string and walks towards his bedroom, tapping your bare thigh as he passes you as a silent cue to follow.

You realize that he doesn’t believe your intentions for coming over are pure, which is true, but you don’t like that he didn’t even pretend to believe you. 

You follow his lead anyway, resting your head against the doorframe and watching him fish his phone out of his pocket and dump it on his desk. He sits on the edge of the bed and looks over at you with his eyebrows raised.

“I told you I just came over here to talk,” you snap.

Suna’s response is automatic. “No, you said you didn’t come over here to fuck.”

“Rin.”

He puts his hands up in mock surrender. “Sorry.” He leans forward, setting his elbows on his knees and his hands beneath his chin. “Alright. Talk.”

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you mutter. “I shouldn’t have come.” You twist your foot to turn around and immediately hear the bed creak with relief. Suna wraps his hand around your wrist before you can fully turn your back.

“Wait, I’m sorry,” he says. “Stay. Please?”

He sounds like he’s begging. He looks like he’s begging, with his slumped shoulders and pleading eyes and desperation written all over his pretty face. 

It’s not enough. 

“My boyfriend doesn’t taunt me like this, you know,” you tell him, indignant.

Suna’s grip on your arms loosens as his face falls a bit.

You continue. “He’s actually nice to me. And he’s romantic. Treats me like royalty.”

You watch Suna’s jaw tick. His hand returns to his side. “He’s boring.”

“He’s steady.”

Suna’s tone grows terse. “Dull. Stale. Bland. Vanilla.”

“Stable and secure and safe.”

Suna snorts. “Safe,” he repeats, sarcastic. “I seriously don’t get how you can date him.” 

“Because he’s my boyfriend who I love and not just some guy I used to fuck when I was lonely.”

It’s a low blow. You and Suna were friends long before the benefits came along. Good friends. Close friends.

If he’s offended he doesn’t show it, just latches on to the first part of your sentence. “You don’t love him.”

He’s right. “You’re wrong.”

“Really? Why are you here then?” He narrows his eyes. “And don’t say it’s because I said I missed you.”

You’re not sure when you started taking steps forward, or when Suna started moving backwards, but his calves hit the edge of the bed and suddenly he’s sitting again, looking up at you with that infuriating self-righteousness that makes your eye twitch.

And then your hand is squeezing his throat and your lips are on his and you’re straddling him and moaning into his mouth.

You feel him start to smile against you before he pulls away. 

He opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it. “Don’t fucking say anything,” you tell him, before tugging his face towards you neck. 

You can tell Suna’s still smiling, but he obeys, sucking the tender spot right above your collarbone without another word. His hands find the bottom of your sweatshirt and he pulls it up. 

His lips leave your skin and your hand leaves his neck so you can take your arms out of the sleeves and he can yank it over your head and drop it on the floor. Then he rests his hands on your hips and just looks at you. 

Goosebumps dance across your shoulders and arms. Suna wants to comment on how you're not wearing a bra but he doesn’t, just continues to stare. 

“What?” you ask.

He takes in the sight of you on top of him, the rise and fall of your chest—quicker than normal, a side effect of him riling you up. He revels in the weight of you on his legs and tries to recall the last time you had him beneath you like this. Your birthday? His birthday? Or maybe it was that time he tried to cheer you up after you got laid off. Either way, it’s been a long time and he hates to think about how you’ve probably been doing this with your boyfriend instead of him.

He can’t help himself. “You straddle the boyfriend like this?”

You huff and press your palm to his chest, shoving him onto his back. Your face hovers over his. “What are you gonna do if I say yes?”

Suna studies your face and puts his hands around your waist and beams. It’s the only signal you get before he flips you, putting your head on a pillow and taking his own shirt off before he drops it on the ground somewhere near your hoodie.

You prop yourself up on your elbows, glancing at the hard outline growing in his sweats as you trail your fingertips up his thigh. He leans into you and rests his forehead against yours. 

“I missed you,” he says softly. 

Your heart beats at a concerning speed. “I know.”

He gets up from the bed and snaps the waistband of your shorts before telling you to take them off and removing the rest of his own clothes. When he crouches over you again, you place the sole of your foot flat against him and tut. 

“You also said you’d do that thing I like with your tongue.”

Again, Suna chooses not to comment. He wonders how many times you listened to the message, because it’s sounding like more than once, more than a couple. He grabs your ankles and drags you down the bed, forcing a giggle out of your throat before he plants his head between your legs. 

He circles your clit, avoiding making contact with it directly and making teasing strokes with his fingers until you’re panting and quivering and making shaky demands for him to let you come on his tongue. When he does, you scream his name. 

“Music to my fucking ears,” he says under his breath, licking your slick off his lips. “You scream this loud for him too?”

You can't believe you forgot how aggravating he is. “Shut up and fuck me.”

He looks so smug. You start to think that the desperation from before was too short-lived, until he’s inside you and you’re filled with him and that familiar need that makes you wrap your legs around him and claw at his back.

All you can think about is how you miss him and you missed this, and you’re telling him to fuck you harder, and then his mouth is right below your ear and his hair is tickling your cheek and a stream of yes’s and Rin’s are tumbling out of your mouth like dominoes and youre trying to pull him impossibly closer and youre so surrounded by him that its dizzying and youre whispering i miss you in his ear and hoping it doesnt sound like i love you and hes saying i miss you too and youre wondering if he really means i love you too and then youre biting into his shoulder and—  

You lose count of how many times you come. Both of you do. The two of you are coated in sweat, laying on damp sheets in a room that now smells like sex and sandalwood. Neither of you speak, busy catching your breath and being lost in thought. You don’t want to say anything, afraid you’ll break the spell.

You didn’t have to worry about that, though, because you hear your phone ping loudly and realize it’s on the floor, still tucked away in the front pocket of your sweatshirt. Suna turns his head towards you.

“You should break up with him.”

You raise an eyebrow at the seriousness in his voice and sigh. “I know.”

“Today.”

A pause. “Okay.”

There’s another moment where none of you speak. And then–

“You should date me instead.”

You turn to face him and the earnestness in his expression catches you so off guard you have to look away again. It’s not that you never expected him to bring it up, you just hadn't expected him to sound so sincere when he did.

You had toyed with the idea before, a handful of times even, but everything between you two was so easy—why would you mess it up with a what are we? conversation? Although, you suppose you messed it up anyway by getting a boyfriend and ditching Suna without warning.

It takes you a long time to respond, long enough that Suna starts to game plan an exit strategy, but then you meet his gaze again.

“Okay.”

[suhkusa]

LMAAO I THINK i meant as in not like cheating cheating but its more believable amd plausible if u write ab them cheating yk

i honestly see oikawa and it'd probably b something dumb (I love oikawa pls dont comr at me 😭)

OKOK then yes. hold on let me just

cw. cheating, angst

You and Oikawa were high school sweethearts.

Getting into the relationship, the two of you knew full and well that following your career paths would force the two of you to go long distance.

Before he left for Argentina, there were many hard discussions between the both of you. In the end, you both decided that a long distance relationship would be worth the try.

In the beginning, it was easy. The trust between you two was unbreakable and strong. There’d be many reassuring texts and FaceTime calls.

But unfortunately, life happens. And the two of your lives got busier than you could ever prepare for. Not only that, the time difference was a major obstacle.

On your end, school was hard, but you’d still find time to send him a good morning or good night text. It was difficult for you at first. But you couldn’t live forever in anxiousness continuously overthinking what Oikawa was or was not doing.

It was different for him, though. Everyday was grueling as the thoughts grew bigger and bigger. Did you still love him? Did you think about him the way he thought about you? Are you waiting for him? Are you cheating?

He knows he should just trust you. But he’s tried and tried, but his insecurities have only gotten worse.

You’re too pretty for him. Why would someone as gorgeous as you wait for him? You’re not waiting for him, are you? So why should he?

And so when he calls you crying in the middle of the night, spouting apologies about how he was drunk and that girl didn’t mean anything, you feel numb.

This was definitely something you had over thought about, yet you chalked it up to being stupid and unlikely to happen. Yet he had to come around and prove you dead wrong.

© all writings belongs to suhkusa 2024. do not repost or change.

[yanderecrazysie]

MY BABY! MY LOVE! THE REASON I WAKE UP( besides the crushing pile of self doubt and depression) FEED ME SOME YANDERE CHEATER ANGST!!!

This was so sweet but I hope your self-doubt and depression get better!!!! I know how that feels and it’s something I hope no one else has to feel!

Ngl I couldn’t stop thinking about this one shot I read about Cheater Jean Kirstein a long time ago and I was like “I can’t not write Tanaka.”

I don’t think Tanaka would be likely to cheat on the reader but, if Kyoko was involved, it’d be difficult for him to say no.

Title: Belated

Pairings: Cheater! Tanaka x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, infidelity, Tanaka has a lot of bad excuses

Summary: The grass is always greener on the other side. Tanaka's discovered that too late.

belated

/adjective/

coming or happening later than should have been the case.

You only really start to appreciate someone when they’re gone.

Tanaka found this out the hard way.

You were a loving girlfriend, celebrating every anniversary like it was the happiest day of your life, always making time for him, and doing your best to put him first. You made him feel like the king of the world and the luckiest man alive.

You did nothing wrong, nothing to “drive him to cheat” or anything like that. No, you were perfect.

It was Tanaka who was flawed.

As much as he loved you, there was another woman who plagued his mind with her beauty. He didn’t exactly “settle” with you, but there was always the temptation, if only Kyoko were to turn her attention his way…

And the moment she decided to, he was too weak to say “no”. Too eager to deny the temptation he was faced with.

The grass is always greener on the other side. Maybe that’s why Tanaka suddenly longed to be with Kyoko and not you. He was a curious man and…

That’s really no excuse, is it?

It wasn’t a good excuse when he heartlessly broke up with you, shamelessly declaring his love for Kyoko as you stared at him, broken-hearted and shell-shocked.

It wasn’t a good excuse when he started to miss you. Started to realize that Kyoko was stringing him along for her own amusement. Started to realize that she couldn’t hold a candle to you.

It wasn’t a good excuse now, as you stood, peeking through the crack in your apartment door, blankly listening to all he has to say, now that he’s learned the grass isn’t greener.

And then he sees him. Tanaka wants to believe that he’s a family member he hasn’t met yet or a friend, but he knows that isn’t the case.

The world seems to spin when that man puts an arm around your waist, asking if “this guy” is bothering you. He swears he can hear his heart breaking when you giggle in response.

Is four months really enough time to move on?

You sure seem to think so.

Tanaka can’t bring himself to ruin your happiness, so he watches from the sidelines. Stalks you like his life depends on it. And maybe it does.

He watches as your relationship grows more serious. As months turn to years. As he proposes and you happily accept. As you both get married. As you have your first child.

You’ve never once noticed him watching from the shadows. He’s sure that’s his punishment- to watch but never touch.

You’re happier now, he thinks. Those same things you did for him, you do with your new partner. And more.

He’ll watch you until the day he dies, hoping, wanting, and punishing himself for ruining what he once had.

Desperately wishing he hadn’t been too late.

[h8ani]

I have started watching blue lock, let’s guess who sky will fall in love with now

[tofangirlornottofangirl]

hear me out. WHAT IF. the haikyuu teams. in the dunmeshi dungeon

[chiarrara]

someone's reblogging a bunch of kagehina stuff on my dash but im not a kagehina shipper so somehow it spiraled into a daydream about hinata and kenma cheating on their boyfriends to make out with each other at a college party and kageyama walks in on them with kuroo ( kenma's bf obvi). for some reason hinata's boyfriend is names brian??? but kageyama makes him tell brian, who gets upset and they leave the party early, but kuroo and kenma are pretending nothing happened and acting normal but PLOT TWIST kageyama and yachi are secretly hooking up so he pretends to leave parties she hosts and then sneaks back in after everyone's gone and she's like okay so what's the tea you looked so mad after you and hinata came back in the room together and he gives her the low down then she's like, that's so sad poor brian. but why were kenma and kuroo acting normal? and he's like well how would you feel? and she's like, if i saw you making out with hinata?? and he's like well I'm not your boyfriend. and she's like I don't think i would mind if it was hinata, cause we've all known each other so long. and he's like so you'd be fine with me cheating on you as long as it was with hinata?? and she's like but you're not my boyfriend awww cute flirting then they boink. meanwhile kuroo and kenma are taking the bus home, and kenma's trying to get kuroo to say how he really feels since he basically just got super quiet at the party and kuroo's trying to figure out if this is a serious thing with hinata or not and how he should feel about it but they're both speaking pretty indirectly since you know they've known each other so long and then my sister called me to order her something off amazon so that's all i got. oh also tsukishima has a girlfriend idk anything about her.