#haikyuu click&drag

[tooruchisposts]

When you tripped down the stairs! Genshin Impact

[kurooangel]

I need this trend with any of the Haikyuu boys desperately 😩😩😩😩 please write it queen 🤞🏾

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTYwY9swU/

₊˚⊹  slim pickins .ᐟ

featuring: kuroo tetsuro ★ miya atsumu ★ miya osamu ★ ushijima wakatoshi ★ bokuto kotaro ★

content: fluff. timeskip haikyuu. f!reader. masterlist.

a/n: I loveeee this trend so I had to take this request!! tysm! <3

★ kuroo tetsuro ── ۶ৎ

both of you were laying on bed while you're watching tik tok. laying on his broad, toned chest, this trend appears while he's scrolling. "baby we have to do it" he says, an smirk on his face while he keeps caressing your waist. "I mean, look at your man. are you really going to waste this opportunity?"

that's how he drags you out of the bed and, without putting a shirt on, he starts recording. he is behind you and caresses your hips and waist before lifting you up like you were as light as a feather. he hoists you on his shoulders while you giggle and the video finishes. "tetsu, put me down!" you laugh.

★ miya atsumu ── ۶ৎ

he is the one who asks you to do it. "please, please, cmon gorgeous." he says, brown and pleading eyes locked with yours. you roll your eyes amused, but finally agree. "fine, but put a shirt on" you get up and he nods, eager to do this trend with you.

when both of you are ready, he doesn't wait until the first second of the video, as soon as it starts, he lifts you in his arms. first bridal style and then he hoists you on his shoulders before flexing his big biceps and finish the tik tok. he kisses your thigh before looking up at you and wink. "it's perfect, doll"

★ miya osamu ── ۶ৎ

he arches an eyebrow when you show him the tik tok trend. "i'm cooking right now, sweetheart" 'samu gives you a quick apologising smile. "c'mon 'samu, it'll be quick" he can't resist those pretty, pleading eyes of yours and he finally gives in.

"so I just have to... lift you?" you nod and place both of you before placing your phone as well. you start recording and sabrina's song starts playing. he takes off his black cap, runs a hand through his dark hair and lifts you up easily, hoisting you on his shoulder and giving a soft smile to you through the camera. he kisses your thigh and gives you your phone so you can stop recording.

★ ushijima wakatoshi ── ۶ৎ

he shook his head when you show him, and when he saw your pout, he finally spoke. "what if you fall? or what if I can't lift you?" you arch your eyebrow, slightly shocked. "are you serious?" you say while you place the phone on the counter. "okay, maybe I can lift you, but what if you fall?" he insists. "well, I trust those big arms to catch me if I fall, 'toshi. now c'mere"

with a sigh, he gets up and stays still behind you while you click on the song and starts recording. he waits until you nod and grips your waist tightly before lifting you up quickly, hoisting you on his shoulders. a sigh leaves his mouth and you stop the video after that. when he puts you down, you can't help but peck him. "see? I didn't fall, but maybe I fell for you a bit more"

★ bokuto kotaro ── ۶ৎ

he was amazed at this trend. it was his opportunity to flex about you, his precious girlfriend, and how much of a good man he was for you. "baby, look at this!" he rushed in the living room, where you were watching a movie. you chuckled and agreed to do it, so he turned on the lights and placed the phone on the table, making sure both of you were on the phone's frame. after that, he started recording.

the song starts playing and bokuto has a big, big smile on his face. he kisses your cheek and lifts you up like you were simba from the lion king before hosting you on his shoulders. he flexes his biceps and clapped at himself ahead of stop recording.

[solvisun]

121924. ❀ ₊˚⊹ HERSHEY’S KISSES

haikyuu 𝜗𝜚 tsukishima kei x fem!reader

you’ve had your fair share of experiences when it comes to relationships. yet for some reason, the one you have now, with a certain blonde who gives you love that’s tangible enough to feel its warmth flowing your skin— makes all your hair from your nape rise in an indescribable feeling. it’s a mix of apprehension, excitement, and an overwhelming desire to do something you have never done before.

or: 4 times you felt the urge to kiss him, and 1 time he acted upon it.

❀ MASTERLIST. PREV. II. KEEP IT COOL. NEXT

content 𝜗𝜚 rain + (un)expected cuddles and borrowed sweaters. failed study sesh. tsukishima's teasing yet tender presence makes it impossible to stay annoyed—or concentrated. reader drinks black coffee LOOK AWAY i am inserting myself. this turned softer than i expected.

this is why you hate joint study sessions.

all of them—except your boyfriend—are sprawled out on the floor, trying to fuse themselves into the floor mat like they’ve decided to hibernate there.

hinata and kageyama are the most tragic victims of this self-imposed slumber, faces vandalized with doodles of squiggly eyebrows and mustashes courtesy of tsukishima, who’s trying to hide the marker somewhere in your bag. his smirk is borderline smug as you catch him in the act. yamaguchi seemed to be a few blinks away before joining the passed out duo in merging with the ground.

yachi helps you drape them with extra blankets. your face twisted in a deadpan look, not surprising that things turn out the way it is.

your initial assumption of the weather being cloudy and perfect was proven wrong when you glance again towards your windows, a gray, grumbling sky looming overhead. threatens the rain that refuses to fall.

you refuse to accept any of it. like the sky, you refuse to fall apart like this.

“yachi please you can’t leave me with those two-” it’s the third time you’ve pleaded with her, pulling the biggest pout you can muster, but as it is, she remains resolute. shaking her head vigorously.

“but you have your boyfriend to help-”

“he’s not going to help and you know that-”

“he will if you ask nicely”

“i don’t want to-”

“why not?”

“because-!”

you hate joint study sessions. but you especially hate it because tsukishima kei is a deadly distraction to your poor heart.

she held both of your hand, calls you by your name. her smile’s so apologetic it leaves a bad taste on your tongue.

she doesn’t have an umbrella, and her house is the farthest from everyone else. she has to go home early.

you think that all your energy slipped along with your friend as the door clicks shut behind her.

yeah, this is punishment. probably for all your procrastination lately.

you glance back at the group, the sleeping chaos of hinata and kageyama reminds you that none of you have been particularly productive today. you didn’t even manage to study anything meaningful yourself, and it’s a pain in the ass, especially now with the gloomy weather that’s forcing lethargy to creep into your bones. it just feels impossible to start now.

yamaguchi supresses a yawn, mutters something unintelligible before folding his arms across the low coffee table as he rests his head against them. outside, the sky mirrors your internal cry, grumbling louder than the last.

and now it’s just you. you and him.

great. fantastic. wonderful.

“i’m gonna have to pull an all nighter later,” you tell yourself as you drag your feet towards the kitchen. sluggish. you opt for some coffee over your typical energy drink, and you do this with a purpose of avoiding your boyfriend, like the mere presence of coffee repels him from you. you nearly laugh at the thought of it, treating caffeine as your personal tsukki repellent.

“what’s taking you so long?”

fuck. it’s not taking effect today for some reason.

you pause mid-stir, and you hadn’t realized you’ve been stirring too fast that you almost spilled yourself. his unhurried footsteps should sound soothing but it does the actual opposite. he steps in your space, blonde poking on your peripherals. his eyes flicker to your coffee, and you immediately catch the grimace pulling at his lips.

he’s never understood why you drink it, even if rarely. and hell, with almost little to no quantity of sugar? he always says it’s proof you’re lost in the head.

maybe he’s right. you want to throw the coffee at his face for it.

you find that fiddling with the spoon can be your favourite past-time now. your half-formed thoughts swirling together in the coffee.

this isn’t going anywhere. you need his help. maybe just a few back-and-forth questions on history? or you could let him shuffle your flashcards. something—anything—to kickstart your focus.

ugh. you can’t even look at him in the eye.

“seriously,” his voice cuts through the mess you’ve dug yourself into. “are you going to stand there all day?” and when you finally glance up, you think—oh.

you’re done for.

he tilts his head to the side, glasses slowly inching down from the bridge of his nose, his brows arch in a sharp but patient question. the way he leans in with relaxed shoulders and a placid look feels a bit unfair when you’re here trying not to shove him off in embarrassment.

you suck a breath, with it, the scent of coffee diffuses within your lungs, but you also catch a whiff of floral hints from a particular cologne you only bought for a particular someone.

(oh, he still wears it?)

you hold your mug firmly, not minding the heat burning against your palms. you say, quietly, “i uh, need help,”

“with what?”

“studying.” you fire weakly, now staring back at your mug, your reflection distorted by the ripples.

you expect his infuriating teasings, a bark of a laugh, or the slow drag of a hum as he pretends to think about it but ultimately pop a nope just to rile you up. you expect to roll your eyes and dismiss him afterwards. you expect him to be a little shit about it.

but instead, he chuckles—this might kill you one day for sure, and you’d prefer anything else other than that echoing the shell of your ear. it’s bound to haunt you later if the universe decides to torment you further.

it’s the most affectionate, yet smug sound you’ve ever heard. but it’s rare, as you take in the crinkle of his eyes and the lift of his cheekbones, you don’t want to believe the pink adorning his features is because he’s blushing. no, he’s enjoying himself too much.

“wow. you really must be desperate if you’re asking me for help. have you been possessed?”

(you wonder about that too.)

“please,” you groan, shooting him a half-hearted glare.

“with a please? this is music to my ears.”

“you know what? nevermind.”

“aw, you can’t just do that and-”

“actually i can-”

“now if you say please one more time i’ll consider it.”

“i’d rather die.”

you give him a nasty side eye as he bursts into a fit of quiet laughter. scoffing as you take a sip of your drink and halt once you did. oops, it’s a little strong than you anticipated. you might need to eat something sweet to balance it out. you set your mug down and rummage through your fridge, laughter dwindling into suppressed chuckles and a sigh of satisfaction.

when you found none. you think your mood couldn’t get any sour. he sees your frown somehow, as he calls out to you. and you can’t miss the way his smirk blurs into a line of a genuine smile. affectionate, almost loving.

“relax,” he says after a while, “what do you need help with?”

you notice there’s something that’s growing warm over the softness of everything. it’s definitely not your coffee. or the incoming rain outside. two of which that are unable to touch or be touched by love.

…it’s definitely not your face, not your ears, and not your half glossed eyes, that feel warm.

“history. just…ask me questions, or something.”

“okay.” he pushes himself off the counter to follow you back on the table. the others still asleep, as tsukishima sits beside you, his knee rests atop of yours.

it’s annoyingly comforting. the bitterness of the coffee, the sound of the rain finally pattering faintly against your roof, muffled and meek. his fresh and floral cologne wafting your nose, his hushed voice as he asks you small and basic questions.

soon enough, history shifts into biology, and you’re not sure when he stopped from playing with your flashcards to his hands preoccupied combing your hair. right as you try to simplify and explain several metabolic processes, head on his lap.

this is another reason why you hate joint study sessions. it's simply a cuddle session in a thinly veiled disguise.

“i know how calvin cycle works, generally, but..”

“i have notes.” he speaks even more softly than before, which you thought wasn’t possible. quit it, you want to reply. you’re already lying down on one of the most comfortable cushion you’ve ever set unto and it’s making you yawn unceremoniously. you’re right. tsukishima’s the best and worst distraction of all time.

“can you—” another yawn surfaces, “just explain it to me?”

“and see you sleep soundly like i’m telling a bedtime story?”

“promise i won’t honk shoo mimimi on you.”

he’s pretty when he grins like this.

“..say please?”

you’re already lost in the head as you comply, “please.”

a breathless chuckle escapes him, “i think you might need your beauty rest now.”

you’ve read an excerpt one time, source unknown. scent shelters memory best. you don’t recall when or where you saw it, but it holds the weight of truth. especially now.

so when he guides you to your sofa, says he’ll get you a blanket real quick. you don’t let him as you tug on his sweater, asking,

“can i wear them instead?”

tsukishima raises an eyebrow, staring at you with mock incredulity. “this? you’re serious?”

you nod, still clutching the edge of his sweater, your fingers brushing against the worn fabric. “it’s cold.”

“right.” he snorts but relents, pulling it over his head in one swift motion. the static ruffles his hair, making a few strands stick up awkwardly. you suppress a laugh as he tosses the sweater toward you.

“happy now?” he mutters, shaking his head lightly to fix his hair.

sliding into the oversized sweater, the warmth envelopes you instantly. it smells faintly of detergent, fresh linen, and that familiar floral cologne. you pause, tugging the collar closer to your nose, the scent grounding you in a strange, comforting way.

“you’re still wearing it,” you say after a short pause.

“what?”

“the cologne.”

he shrugs.

“why wouldn’t i?”

you huff. “i just didn’t think you liked it that much. when i gave it to you, i thought you’d hate it—too floral, too... not you.”

he looks away, “it’s fine. i liked it enough to keep using it.”

what you don’t say is how the memory of that first time still lingers in your mind. how you’d seen it nearly empty within a month, thinking he’d tossed it, only to learn he’d worn it so often it hadn’t lasted. how he’d started buying it himself after that and, without a word, began reserving it for his favorite clothes—the ones he wore on days he liked best. like this sweater.

you realize then that it’s not just the sweater or the cologne you find yourself drawn to—it’s everything wrapped up in him. the way his mouth moves, the subtle quirk of it when he’s amused, the way it softens when he isn’t teasing you.

you don’t respond, you let your thoughts blur into the comfort of his warmth, the patter of rain, and the scent that shelters this memory best.

and before you’re swept into slumber, you wonder if he could taste the bitterness on your lips if you had the guts to kiss him right now. maybe he’d hate you for it. maybe you'd freaked yourself out the first time the urge sprung up so suddenly. maybe you couldn't do it after all.

…does he even want to kiss you? the same way you desire to?

(you’ll seek the truth for another time.)

taglist (open!) — @stellar-haikyuu @kokokoula @luvether @yoru-exe @reirain @hwanghyunjinismybae @astolary @albakugo @zarisluvr @kazucee @23soong @anqelkoz @starstrikeer @liliesofdawnnn

just wanted to overshare: idk how anyone goes about relationships, but this is based off of my own experience haha. this chp was supposed to be posted last night but i hated how the tone of the story shifted drastically, so i rewrote it until i was satisfied hhauhasuhs

© SOLVIA 2024. HERSHEY’S KISSES. do not alter/repost !

[takes1]

Hello! Popping my request in here. ‘ v ‘

Your Kuroo and Kenma fic was to die for, but what I really need is a NSFW Bokuto and Kuroo with reader. Maybe a polyamorous situation?

Because how could you have one without the other? they’re a package deal. 🫱🏻‍🫲🏼

kuroo x reader + bokuto nsfw

this has been in the drafts for a while, just needed to stitch it up. sorry i been gone ya'll, i'm getting ready for big girl life. i can't write and be on top of everything else at the same time rahhh

warnings. heavy nsfw, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / mmf threesome / f!rec oral / praise kink!bokuto / scheming kuroo / soft dom!kuroo, switch!bokuto / overstim / begging / established relationship / himbo!bokuto / everybody is possessive / shallow 3sum vs legit poly theme / 2.3k words

links. my masterlist. my ao3. more haikyuu.

Your feet were dragging across the floor as you shouldered the bedroom door open.

The exhaustion you had accumulated from that cursed double-shift left your face heavy, your limbs aching. The dull, fuzzy noise of the TV didn't even set you off as unusual.

Kuroo was sprawled across the mattress on his phone, already dressed for bed in the t-shirt you wanted to wear.

You groaned at him, grumbling some half-baked, silly threat to take his clothes off.

He laughed at you, lively, despite the late hour, and spoiled you with a flurry of kisses across all your favorite spots.

"Oohh... Bad shift?" He chuckled.

You started clumsily unbuttoning your stupid, stinky blouse for a few difficult seconds before letting his bigger, steadier hands take the role over instead. But he started doing it back up-- you let out a confused cry. He shushed you.

"What--?"

His lip was tucked between his too-perfect teeth, usually something he reserved for real exciting moments.

He whispered, "We have company, baby."

You jumped in his grip, eyes flying open to scan your bedroom, and realized somebody was sitting in his big gaming chair. It made you feel about a thousand times more tired.

There was an arm visible, troubleshooting his console, and the sound of some games getting shuffled through. The hand was huge, and you couldn't easily recognize who it belonged to. It -for sure- wasn't Kenma.

Before you could scold him for not warning you, he pressed a raunchy kiss to your jawline and pulled you in for a firm hug. You shudder, unprepared, and cautiously eyeing the back of that chair to make sure you had not just critically embarrassed yourself in front of some famous athlete.

Kuroo often had members of serious leagues over, sometimes for PR, sometimes only because he was a cool-people magnet.

"Shhh- it's just Bokuto," He grinned into your shoulder with a giggle, and for the life of you, you couldn't figure out what was so damn funny, "We're playin' some games."

That wasn't as relieving as his tone would indicate.

Bokuto was a topic between you for a few reasons you were too tired to mull over, right now.

With another shiver, perishing the thought of your 'third' talks, you pushed him softly away.

After lending you the shirt you wanted -because he always gave you what you wanted- you chose some PJ pants to wear for as long as Bokuto decided to stay over, and left once again to go wash the day off.

The idea that he might leave while you were in the shower was not reality. It wasn't much of a bother, because something about his vague form in the dark kept you feeling lighter, out of curiosity.

You slipped under the covers next to Kuroo's leg.

Clean, and cool, and tired. You didn't even reach for your phone. The lamps were on. No alarm set. Kuroo was chatting quietly to Bokuto. Their controllers were clicking. Your body kept perfectly still as you began to fall asleep. 19 hours. Of work.

You only stirred at the feeling of closeness, new and slow, on your other side.

It was a passive, warm, sort of presence. Their conversation then kept you from falling immediately back asleep.

"It's fine, dude!" Bokuto winces, realizing his own volume in the process of it coming out of his mouth. That was from your left. You shift to your right side, closer to your partner.

He's quieter, as he clarifies, "I still like hangin' out."

They were still playing, just further away from the screen.

"Maybe- uh, some other time?"

There's no response to him; only the soft sound of their fighting game. It starts to follow a rhythm of noise that lulls you back down, but you feel a hand massaging your hip.

It was impossible to mask anything with all the sleep still hanging over you. Your thighs squeezed, twitchy, and you took a short breath in.

Your gasp was not loud, but the way it stilled them made it feel that way.

"You awake, babygirl?"

That pet name was reserved for sex only-- it jumpstarts your heart. What was he playing at?

Your eyes open, barely, in a firm inspection of his face.

There was a tiny squint at the corner of his eyes. He was trying not to smile. When Bokuto looked up at him, basically asking for guidance, you put it all together.

He was scheming. This was no accident; Kuroo wasn't the type of guy to attract coincidence. Most everything he did was on purpose because he crafted it so.

"You weren't awake for all of that, were you?"

His thumb prods, firm, into your hip joint.

When you try to roll over on your back, flustered at his tone, his touch, you bump into Bokuto's knee. He must've shifted closer. You didn't know what to say-- their exchange was still vague.

His chuckle at your slight panic makes you tense.

"That'd be pretty embarrassing-," Bokuto seethes at the idea, his strong chest filling up even more. His little strangled groan, barely covered by a false cough, doesn't go unnoticed, "Not gonna lie."

You're sandwiched between them.

You need to keep your arms squeezed in because they had completely commandeered the mattress space. Your guest felt a little guilty, looking down at you, so he attempted to make things better.

Bokuto slid further down, under your covers-- you scooted closer to your boyfriend, your cheek squished into his hip.

He remained still, like he doesn't intend to... participate.

"Why don't you tell me about work, hm?"

He's taking the roll of a sentient brick wall, instigating, here and there. Your brow furrows, and you have to glance from Kuroo's genuine interest to the wild animal he invited into your apartment. Right into your bed.

No doubt Kuroo told his friend that you don't take well to the spotlight, and they're doing all the theatrics on purpose to get a reaction out of you.

"You- you don't want to hear about my shift--," You shudder.

You suppress a squeal at Bokuto's rough palm. It found part of your exposed belly, where your shirt had lifted, as a result of your squirming.

It reminds you of the rant you had gone on, the last time you talked about how bad you wanted to take both Kuroo and Bokuto. Maybe, in the safety of your relationship, and still whisked away post-orgasm, you had been overzealous with lustful desires.

Kuroo acts like you're being ridiculous. He sighs, too candid, "Of course I wanna hear- you always tell me."

His hand started rubbing your scalp, reassuring, and he tilted his head down at you.

"I look forward to it."

So soft, and sweet, and considerate. You sink, a little, and think about apologizing-

That big hand slid up and firmed right under your bare chest, "Ohh, I wanna hear about it, too!"

You wince away from Bokuto's intense eye contact-- you can't even look this man in the face, or keep your composure with his hand on your tummy. Forget about- What all did you say? Let him destroy you?

The weight of his dense body made the bed shift deeper in his favor, not Kuroo's. He was more than capable of destruction.

"Really?" You sigh, breathless.

Kuroo shimmied down to your side, at last, but it came with him stripping all of you of the blankets.

"Well, he can ask the questions," Bokuto leaned further over you, a new smell, a new kind of intensity.

His brow finally lowered to something more relaxed, his quick eyes bouncing around your somewhat covered body. A thumb, you're not sure whose, brushed your nipple and you flinched up towards him. The two worked in tandem to get you cozied up that way.

Finally, a hand that you know is Kuroo's, grabbed your chin to bring you in for a kiss. Bokuto watched, impatient, fully palming your chest.

Kuroo's mellow, deep voice brushes your lips, not quite done with kissing you, "D'ya mind if he gets a little taste while you take me through it?"

He was dumb, and hot, and enthusiastic-- the kind you might not want to date, but would make for a fun time. You trust that they talked about it. You trust that Kuroo knows you enough at this point, and will stop things if they get too out of hand. You're into it by now.

"I don't mind," You barely get out before he takes your mouth hostage again.

Bokuto, though clumsy, and heavy-handed and overexcited at the best of times, still made for a welcome change.

"Ohh- fuck, f-uck-!"

His tongue lapped enthusiastically at your soaked, sensitive cunt. Kuroo kept one of your legs to himself, holding it casually, with a lazy smile across his face.

"Mmm, does'he feel good, babygirl?" His words were a warm, confident purr against your hairline.

Kuroo typically was slower, kind of went at his own pace, when he went down on you. He liked talking while he did this sort of thing.

Bokuto sucked a soft, wet kiss to your clit before pressing the flat of his tongue all the way down, then right back up. He carried no intention of keeping anything 'toned down,' for the sake of romance. He just wanted you to cum, as fast as possible.

You gasped, nails scratching hard against his forearms.

"Yes-y-es, ah-h-!"

He hummed, approval- if you had to put a connotation to it, fingers firming around your throat, "Good, good. Now tell me about your day."

Your noncompliant whine, though realistically earned and downright adorable to him, was not what he asked for. He rested the side of his face onto his fist and sighed, pouty, at you.

"Hmmmm," Bokuto's interjection buzzed against you-

"M-mnh!"

"You two are, like, so cute," His head popped up for a second, his fingers grazing over your entrance, instead while he addressed his friend, "Good for you guys."

Kuroo grinned. "Thanks, buddy."

Their relaxed, apathetic conversation lit fire-y chills down your arms. Kuroo slid a heavy palm down to your wrist, smooth and controlled.

Sure, he was experimental most of the time, but this was a big first for both of you. You assumed he might tread on the more cautious side. Did he have everything so planned out that he didn't feel protective, or conservative with the information he gave, at least?

"Where's my recap, babygirl?" He, again, sighs at you. It's chock-full of wistful attitude.

"I-, I, I-- hh-oh-! Oh, my gosh--," Tears pricked your the corners of eyes.

Maybe Bokuto was really good at giving head, and Kuroo knew it? That's why he was forcing you to split your mind?

His tongue was just faster- the right pressure you needed, the right mix of messy and careful, quick and slow. His nose bumped your clit as he really got his face in it.

"Awww," Kuroo cooed at you.

The smile on his jaw faded every time he saw you looking at him. What an actor. He wasn't cut out to be so cold but he sure loved to pretend, especially for an audience.

"You better not cum, princess. I promised Koutarou he could try that pretty pussy out tonight."

His threat was so toneless, you took a few seconds of empty, clueless staring to understand him.

'Don't cum' didn't match up with his soft lips, sucking on your clit again. You felt him smile.

"Mm-!" You went to push him off of you, because you were way too close, "Bokuto- pl-ease--,"

"Shhh, baby. Call him Koutarou," He snickered at you.

Your fingers had barely reached his stiff, frosted tips before Kuroo intercepted them. His longer digits possessively laced through the webs of yours.

But he didn't take them back, like you expected him to. He set your hand on the back of Bokuto's head, pulling him in, encouraging him to stay right there--

"Mmmh," He moaned, obedient, relaxing against you.

His strong arms pulled at your hips. It shoved you right to the edge and there was nothing left to stop the momentum.

You squeaked out a panicked sound, and now that Kuroo wasn't holding your leg open, you squeezed his head between your thighs, panting, begging for a break. It didn't help to move him.

"A-aah-!"

Kuroo couldn't help but grin at your conflicted bliss and despair. It was, after all, evidence that you wanted to be good for him.

You were a trembling mess as you came down, muttering-, "N-no-, nono- I wasn't-- ah-hm, Koutarou!!"

Though Kuroo let your hand slip out from under his, his own was still affectionate and in place, tangled in the roots of his hair to keep him there.

It sounded wet, what he was doing to you.

You flinched, moaning and squirming at the overkill, but didn't dare grovel. Kuroo liked it too much. You'd be digging a deeper hole if you gave him the chance to tease.

Though overstim was his favorite torture on you, he couldn't be bothered to punish you for long after that. You tried so hard not to cum, and you were just too cute, so you got an automatic pass.

His palm slid away after he got his fill. Bokuto came up, practically drowning, but happy about it.

"You've gotta teach me that, sometime," Kuroo rolled onto his back and put hands behind his head. He was so hard, and it was laughably obvious through his shorts, but he made no moves to palm himself. Maybe he was trying something out?

His thigh prodded at yours, back and forth real slow, as a grounding sensation for you.

Bokuto licked his lips, wiped his face, and peered down at you like a meal, "How's tomorrow morning work?"

You were shaking like a leaf.

"Or--," He smirked, a little toothy and crooked at the solid number he had already done on you, "Fuck. What about right now?"

☆VIP☆

@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco @megapteraurelia

my masterlist. more haikyuu

♡ notes: i can't PROMISE part 2 bc i've realized i be letting ppl down too much not delivering those. you're welcome to ask tho

♡ (i love getting inbox notifs) lmk what you thought: inbox

[evamame]

comfort for your longest and hardest days ft. osamu miya

part 1 of this series of how haikyuu men comfort you after having a bad day cw: sfw, angst to fluff, gn!reader, established relationship, post timeskip!osamu, pet names, comfort word count: 858 author’s note this is part 1, come back to read the other parts! taglist your honor i plead guilty to loving this man

masterlist

kageyama tobio kuroo testurou oikawa tooru

you open the front door a little later than usual and walk into the entrance, quickly taking off your shoes and putting them to the side. you throw your jacket on a hook on the wall, toss your bag on the ground, and then swiftly make your way down the hall.

osamu—who had already returned home from the restaurant—hears the pitter-patter of your feet on the hardwood floor and calls out from his seat on the couch, “welcome back, hon!” hardly acknowledging him, you pass the living room and make your way to you and osamu’s shared bedroom. walking in you unintentionally slam the door behind you. as you walk past, visibly upset, osamu furrows his brow in confusion. you would usually run straight to him the moment you arrive home.

and you would’ve today too, but you really didn’t want to talk right now. you just need some space after everything that happened today at work. nothing had gone your way, no matter how much you tried to stay positive. you spilled coffee on your freshly ironed blouse. you tripped walking up the stairs. your files crashed after you were about to submit your final report for the big meeting tomorrow. and then, you had to stay overtime to try and recover them. finally, as the cherry on top of your disastrous sundae, your phone died on the commute back home. everything piling on top of one another was too much for you to handle, so you reached your breaking point.

you throw yourself on to the bed, burying your face into a pillow and curling up into a ball on your side. you let the soft pillow case collect the tears silently running down your face, letting out a few sniffles. after a few minutes of complete silence other than the sound of your quiet sobs, you hear osamu’s slippers gliding across the floor that come to a stop as he softly knocks on the door. his voice is muffled from the other side as he asks, “hun? are ya alright? everythin’ okay?”

you hear him, but are too mentally exhausted to even bother answering. you hope your silence will just make him leave you alone, but instead the door slowly creaks open and osamu steps in. he closes the door behind him and silently takes a seat on the edge of the bed, looking down at the tear stains on your cheeks and the pillow case. “bad day?” he questions quietly.

you nod and reply with a weakened voice, “i don’t want to talk about it.” you glance up at him for a quick moment to see the concern etched on his features before burying your face deeper in the soft and silky sheets. osamu tenderly runs his fingers through your hair as he thinks with a soft hum, leaning down to kiss the top of your head after a moment.

he slowly stands up from the edge of the bed, walking to the door and looking back at you. “i’ll be back soon,” he tells you before he closes the door behind him with a soft click. you lay in silence drowning in your own thoughts, your eyes mindlessly drifting around the bedroom.

osamu opens the door with a slow creak after you’ve dozed off for an amount of time you hadn’t been able to keep track of. he speaks softly in an attempt not to startle you, “hun, are ya asleep?” as the air from outside the bedroom door begins to flood the room, you’re hit with the comforting smell of his cooking. you shift in the bed, slowly getting up and dragging your feet across the room to reach him at the door. the scent is a silent calling, willing you to move forward. “i made all yer favorites,” he says in a slightly sing song voice as an attempt to cheer you up, even just a little bit.

you follow behind him as he leads you to the kitchen table, your tired eyes widening as you see the massive spread he prepared for you. in his typical chef fashion, he managed to make all of your favorite dishes, which he of course keeps a mental list of in his head at all times. “‘samu, all of this is for me? you really didn’t have too… i’m fine you know.”

“yeah, well, i wanted to. come sit. eat up,” osamu says as he takes a seat himself, patting the chair next to him. you oblige, picking up your chopsticks and marveling over the dishes, thinking of what to take first.

“i can’t eat all this myself,” you mutter as you grab a rice ball to put on your plate.

“i’ll help you,” osamu replies back, taking a rice ball for himself. he watches as you take your first bite, a knowing smile appearing on his face when your eyes light up at the delicious food. “feelin’ any better?” he asks.

“so much better. thank you,” you reply.

“good,” he says back, and you can catch the satisfied gleam in his eyes at your response as you take a quick glance at him.

© evamame 2025. all rights reserved. please do not repost, modify, steal, plagiarize, or translate my work.

[nanasrkives]

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

── .✦ "QUIET NIGHTS" ─ Iwaizumi Hajime

Here's a lil iwaizumi fluff since timeskip is being animated ! Content : post timeskip! Iwaizumi Hajime. fluff. 1052 words.

The apartment was wrapped in a gentle hush, the only sound was the soft hum of the city outside.

The warm lamplight spilled over the wooden floor, casting long, lazy shadows across the room. The clock ticked past midnight, but the night felt suspended in time, slow and tender. Iwaizumi Hajime eased the front door shut with a tired sigh, the soft click of the lock echoing faintly in the stillness of the apartment. His gym bag slipped from his shoulder, landing with a dull thud, a sound that barely seemed to break the quiet. His muscles ached—a familiar, stubborn soreness from hours spent taping ankles, guiding stretches, and dealing with athletes who never seemed to listen when he told them to rest. He toed off his shoes, running a hand through his messy hair, and padded quietly through the darkened apartment, making his way toward the living room. There, you were curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, a book resting forgotten on your chest. The soft rise and fall of your breathing was a comfort, an anchor to the quiet, and even in sleep, you looked like home. The sight of you, so peaceful, made something in his chest tighten in a way he couldn’t quite name.

Iwaizumi moved closer, kneeling beside you on the couch, his tired eyes softening as he reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. The touch was feather-light, almost as if he were afraid to disturb the fragile quiet of the moment. You stirred slightly, blinking sleepily up at him, and a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Oi, sleeping here again?” he muttered softly, his voice gruff but fond, the teasing edge to his words something he couldn’t suppress, even now. You blinked at him a few times, still half-dazed from sleep, and let out a quiet, drowsy “Hey.”

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” he murmured, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, his hand lingering against your cheek, his thumb tracing small, soothing circles. You shifted slightly, mumbled, “You’re late.” he sighed, glancing at the clock with mild annoyance. "Yeah," he said, his voice low and a little frustrated. "Spent an hour convincing one of the guys he's not invincible. Tweaked his hamstring, but thinks he can just walk it off.” His voice held a familiar grumble, frustration laced with quiet care, the kind of tired frustration that only came from a long day of taking care of others. He paused for a moment, then added, “And then the guys wanted to grab drinks after practice. You know how it is.” There was a hint of amusement in his voice, but also a trace of reluctance. They had insisted—no, practically demanded—a round of drinks, something that had dragged on far longer than he’d anticipated. Still, he hadn’t been able to say no.

Without another word, he slipped his arms under you and lifted you effortlessly in a bridal carry, grumbling under his breath, “You’re going to get a crick in your neck sleeping like that.”

“Hajime,” you whined softly, though you didn’t protest. Instead, you tucked your face into his chest, inhaling the faint scent of his cologne mixed with sweat, athletic tape, and something that was just distinctly him. His grip on you tightened, a reassuring, steady presence in the quiet of the apartment. “Don’t whine,” he shot back, though his voice was gentler now, his hold secure and warm, pulling you even closer. Despite the long hours and the weight of his day, his heart thudded a little faster in his chest, and he would never admit it out loud, but he was grateful for this moment of peace with you. He carried you to the bedroom with ease, the bed welcoming him with its warmth. He set you down carefully, tucking you into the covers, and as he pulled the blanket over you, his fingers brushed against yours, lingering for just a moment longer than necessary. The contact was a silent promise, one that spoke more than words could convey.

“Missed you,” you whispered, your voice thick with sleep, and the words wrapped around his heart like a warm blanket. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your temple, his hand lingering for a moment more, a touch that spoke of things too deep for words. “Missed you too,” he replied quietly, his voice low and sincere. “More than I can say.” The truth of his words hung in the air, woven into the way his hands lingered on you, the way his lips found your skin with a tenderness that made your heart ache. There was a quietness in the space between you, a warmth that needed no explanation.

“Come to bed,” you murmured, your voice barely audible as you tugged weakly at his hand. He chuckled softly, shaking his head, but the action didn’t stop him from slipping under the covers beside you. His arm found its place around your waist, pulling you close until your bodies fit perfectly together, a seamless alignment of comfort and affection. “You should stretch more,” you mumbled against his chest, half-asleep. “Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, but there was a smile in his voice as it rumbled through his chest, vibrating against your ear. His lips pressed a final, gentle kiss to your hair, and for a moment, everything else in the world faded away.

In the warmth of that small, shared space, the quiet night held you both a little longer, as if the universe itself wanted to stretch this moment of stillness and peace just a little further.

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

Taglist (OPEN). / @cherrysurf

[2skyflorix2]

I Love Us

Honestly, I'm so, so very glad AvA is the first fandom I've actually been an active participant in.

LONG RANT INCOMING

Throughout the years, I have "been in fandoms", but I never felt like posting my own art or works, commenting on vids (i didn't have a youtube account back then, still don't), or being anything other than a silent observer.

Back in March, when I came home from that math competition, and found AvMath in my recommendeds, and just clicked on it, I did not expect to get dragged into a fandom about stick figures, of all things. I remember watching AvPhysics directly after, then finding "Wanted", and watching it with no context. I remember going to the wiki, seeing all of the content that was made, and and binging AvM and the actual shorts and literally everything else.

And most of all, I remember thinking, "I wish I could just erase all of this from my mind and experience the magic all over again."

-

In May, I took a chance and went to Ao3. I knew it was a site to post fanfiction, but it had never been something I was interested in. But I was just curious, to see if fanfiction about this amazing fandom really existed. I didn't have an account, no; I think I just wanted to see.

There were about 1600-1700 fics on there about AvA, during that time. I didn't know how hits worked or kudos worked, but I just remember scrolling down until I could find something that looked like a lot of people had liked it.

And even then, I clearly remember the first fic I touched. "Identity", by LeenaFreeBird (I'll link it at the bottom). I absolutely loved it. I spent the rest of the month simply reading, and consuming all of the cool hcs, learning what fan terms meant, having an idea for my own fic that I thought, back then, I could never write.

Because I didn't.

I never made an account or wrote. I never left comments because part of me though people without an account wouldn't be able to, and that was just habit, at this point.

And even though I stepped slightly away from there in the months of June and July (we were in the process of moving halfway across the country, I had just watched the new Demon Slayer season, and upon recommendation had binged all of Haikyuu in a week), I always made sure to keep updated on whatever new AvA/M videos had been posted.

In August, I went back on Ao3.

SO MANY AMAZING FICS HAD BEEN WRITTEN IN THE SPAN I WAS AWAY.

I remember binging all of them for the month. I sat alone at lunch (as I was new I didn't have any friends), just reading them on my phone and getting sucked back into there.

In September AvI began. On a whim I logged back into my tumblr account that I had made like 5 years ago in 4th grade to post random rambling stuff about my life (I tagged nothing but my username wth), and redid my entire blog. I was sooo happy when one of my posts reached 100 notes.

I felt way stronger, and way braver. I joined the invite queue for Ao3, because I decided I DID want an account, and I DID want to post my own fics.

And everyone was (and is) SO NICE about it. They love my fics and posts (which I still consider really crappy, btw) to pieces, and always give me good comments. Even my bad fanart (another thing I got the courage to post during this time). Shipping wars never happen here (if they did, I wouldn't know about it). Rarepairs are appreciated, and we unanimously know the ships that should be completely illegal (not naming ship names here).

Everything and everyone is loved, and this is like the one little corner of the Internet where mostly all is safe and your opinion is valued. Sure, your fan theory may be wrong, but people here don't go and tell you "that's so stupid lol, no way that's true". They'll give you actual feedback, explain the evidence that falsifies it, or add to it because they like it.

Even on YouTube, if someone posts a yellue ship video, for example, they'll get hate, or "the color quad are just siblings lol", or "they r stickmen why are u shipping them". If someone HCs Blue as a girl (ik that's been debunked where we are at rn), they'll get a comment saying "it's stickman for a reason".

Like, let people have their opinions. Alan has never confirmed the color quad as siblings, or their origin story. I know he has said that he would like to avoid romance by not making female characters, but it's not like the people who ship yellue or grapeduo barge up to his door and demand he makes it canon. They're just peaceful, and everything that you're saying is fanon. For all we know, four different animators could have collabed on the sticksfight website and each animated a different character (not saying that's true, but we don't know).

And even with hollowhead pairs. Alan created them, yes, but how does Creator transfer to father in this scenario? We don't know, because he hasn't confirmed the hollowheads as siblings either. They still get hate on YouTube.

But Tumblr just loves everyone. The AvA community, for example, will always make you feel like you posted something good. They lift you up, not put you down. They appreciate your headcanons because it provides a new way of looking at things.

They appreciate you.

I feel so much better about putting myself out there, and I know I will do so more in the future. I now cannot comprehend how someone can see all of this content and think "they are just stick figures". No they aren't. They are stick figures with trauma, feelings, pain, heroic qualities, fatal flaws.

You, tumblr, makes me feel this way.

Thank you so much.

(I did not expect to rant about my entire journey when I was supposed to be talking about how amazing the AvA tumblr fandom is, but now that I have I'll just keep it. Here's the fic I was talking about)

[nizhspo]

saltwater secrets

chapter nine: scent memory

genre: haikyuu fic, slow burn

pairing: tooru oikawa x reader

links: m.list, next

you drive home with the windows down.

still in your tie-dye shirt. still covered in sand. your hands shake a little on the wheel—not from nerves, just from exhaustion. you play something low on the stereo, something familiar, a burned mix CD that skips during track seven. the sky outside is orange and pink and too pretty to look at directly.

you get home, peel off your shirt, and shower with the water just a little too hot. you step in, let it hit your skin, and within seconds, there it is: the shimmer, the pull, the flicker of orange curling down your legs.

you sigh, lean back against the tile, and let your tail settle beneath you. your legs feel like jelly anyway, might as well let the transformation finish while the steam works on your shoulders.

the mirror fogs. you don’t bother clearing it. you already know the shape of yourself like this. the scales, the glint, the weight.

you sit on the floor of the tub and rinse off slowly, careful around your fins, and when you’re done, you drag yourself out, dripping and cold, and lay across a towel on the bathroom rug.

grab the blow dryer, aim, wait. watch your tail fade, piece by piece.

then you crawl into bed, skin warm, hair damp, and your mind full of someone who still doesn’t know the half of you.

you flip your phone open with one hand, the plastic hinge clicking open like muscle memory. the screen lights up dim green and you scroll to messages with the arrow key.

the keypad feels clunky under your thumbs, but you’re good at this by now—t9 on, brain already predicting your next words.

you type fast, hardly thinking:

[you: come over]

[yachi: already packing snacks]

[you: i need 2 get out of my head]

[yachi: say less]

she shows up in pajama shorts and a faded hoodie with the fukurodani owl on the back, a pink polka-dotted pillow tucked under one arm and a plastic bag full of off-brand fruit snacks in the other. she kicks her flip flops off in the doorway and crawls onto your bed like she’s done a thousand times before.

“you wanna debrief?” she asks.

“do i have a choice?”

“absolutely not.”

you sit beside her, both of you cross-legged, your TV playing a fuzzy rerun of lizzie mcguire in the background. the ceiling fan whirs overhead, just barely cutting the heat.

she tilts her head. “so… the hand on the waist thing?”

you roll your eyes. “it doesn’t mean anything.”

“mmhm.”

“seriously. he’s like that with everyone. you’ve seen him. he’s… him.”

“he is him,” she agrees. she says simply, and that’s why you love her. because she doesn’t argue. doesn’t push. just lets you say what you need to say.

but you know that look.

you glance sideways. “what?”

“nothing,” she hums. “just—when i was watching one of oikawa’s matches earlier, i was standing near some girls from aoba johsai. cheer girls, i think. they were talking.”

“about?”

“him. obviously.”

you hesitate. “…what’d they say?”

she shrugs. picks at a loose thread in the blanket. “one of them said he was hooking up with this girl, like, up until two weeks ago. a junior. apparently they were, like, really on-and-off, not serious, but still a thing.”

your stomach does that dip.

“and?”

“and,” she continues, slow, “she found out he’d hooked up with one of her teammates, like, two months ago. another girl from their cheer squad. he never told her. she found out through someone else.”

you don’t say anything.

just stare at the ceiling.

“he stopped texting her after that,” yachi adds, voice quieter. “like, just done. hasn’t said a word since.”

you close your eyes and your heart folds in on itself just a little. just enough to ache.

yachi stretches out beside you, settling her head on your other pillow. she doesn’t push. she doesn’t say i told you so. she just starts texting hinata on her flip phone, the soft clicking of keys filling the silence.

your skin still feels warm where oikawa’s hand rested earlier. you can still smell him if you try hard enough: clean, soft, a little sweet, like lavender soap and boyish heat and a scent that doesn’t belong to any one person.

you turn your face toward the wall.

yachi keeps texting, murmuring things like “i miss you too” and “you should’ve seen her, she was insane,” and it’s comforting, that familiarity, that noise.

you fall asleep slowly, wondering if maybe oikawa smells like that because he knows what it does to people.

wondering if he ever really looked at you at all.

[shiguangism]

Presentation

Hi, I'm anchestral and I'm mainly a fan writer who landed here on tumblr after years of being active on twitter!

Some info about me:

Pronouns: she/her

Age: 22

Languages: Italian, English and Spanish

Fandoms I'm active in: Link Click, Chainsaw man

Favourite shows: Link Click, Chainsaw man, Jojo's bizarre adventure, Tokyo Ghoul, Haikyuu, Berserk, and many others I won't list here. Just fyi, name me a show and probably I've watched it.

I've moved here because twitter was not a comfortable place for me anymore, and I've seen that tumblr is much more chill wrt those lands. Please, be aware that I will NOT engage in any kind of arguing online, so don't even bother to pick a fight with me, I've had very BAD experiences I don't want to repeat.

I'm here just to chill, talk to people about my favourite show, share insights and maybe make some friends. I'm very friendly, if you want to hit me up in the dm to talk about something, I'll answer very gladly whenever I cant! :)

If you're shy you can send me anon, I'll be very happy to answer.

Fanfictions:

In this year I've been writing a lot, I've always liked writing and I started when I was only 14. However, I'm a bit slow because I like to write first in my native language and then translate in English. Below, there is a list of my fanfic profiles and the works I like the most and I'm writing. This are my profiles for AO3 and EFP (Italian platform for fics):

AO3: Anchestral

EFP: Anchestral

Link Click Fanfictions:

Immersion: In which Cheng Xiaoshi goes back into the past to save Lu Guang

Summary: ‘Three are the rules we need to respect: first, we have twelve hours; second, listen to my instructions and don't change anything; third, leave to the past what's in the past and don't ask about the future.' Cheng Xiaoshi knew them well, Lu Guang told him those rules everytime before working. By then, he learned not to question them, they didn't know what could happen playing with the past and modifying it. But did the rules still make any sense if Lu Guang was dead?

Prevision: In which Lu Guang goes back into the past to save Cheng Xiaoshi

Summary: Lu Guang did not make mistakes, he always evaluated all the possibilities in front of him rationally, it was what he had to do to allow the survival of both of them, to allow their time travels to go as smooth as possible, but letting himself be dragged into Cheng Xiaoshi's do-gooder madness had been the first big mistake of a long chain. September 12th 2020 was the day when that realization hit him like a sucker punch straight in the center of his chest, leaving him on the floor gasping for air, in pain.

These two fics are actually related!

火锅 - Hotpot (E-Rated): Just a collection of nsfw one-shots, but it is getting serious. For now, there is only one chapter out, but I'm working on the second and it is becoming huge.

There are many ways to spice up a relationship: may it be a hot bowl of noodles, a dark room with way too red lights, or a bet on who's going to wash the dishes for the rest of the month... The possibilities are endless when starved eyes are looking at you as if they're going to devour you any time soon, leaving you feeling naked and in trembles. ----- 5 times Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang have steamy, hot sex + 1 time they can't. (the formula may be subjected to changes)

Chainsaw Man Fanfictions:

Dancin' in the devil's hand (E-rated):

Summary: The metropolis of Tokyo is torn apart by a series of unexplained, brutal murders, but all of them seem to be connected by a single thread. In this climate of terror, Aki Hayakawa has been given the onerous task of bringing light and a point to this story. --- An unexplainable mystery to solve that will lead Aki and Angel to work together, closer than ever, and maybe will give them the chance to understand something more about themselves and each other...

There are also many other one-shots, most of them are in Italian, thought, and I'm not particularly fond of the other translated because I was still trying to adjust my writing again!

I think I've said everything. I'm sorry if I make some mistakes, I'm very new to this site and I'm still trying to understand how the netiquette works, especially the one tied to the reblogs and the tags.

See you around! :3

[dumdogs]

haikyuu angstober

day one: miya osamu

all paintings by denis sharazin

soundtrack: taste by the forth wanderers

word count: 1.4k

warnings: jealousy, unrequited feelings, unhappy ending

taglist is open, complete this form to be added

They’re splitting an orange.

Osamu peeled off the skin of it, and pulled it in two, keeping one half for himself and handing the other to her. They’re sitting on the balcony, just the two of them, the living room behind the closed glass door stuffed with strangers and loud music. She sits at the edge, with her knees pressed between the rails, picking away at the pith.

“Just eat it,” Osamu says, chewing the flesh between his teeth as his thumb pulls away another slice. “You’re never gonna get rid of all of that stuff.”

“”S gross,” she grumbles, irritated and concentrated on adding to the small, stringy pile of pith beside her. “Let me do what I need to do, okay?”

Osamu gives a half-hearted grin, one corner of his lip tugging up in slight amusement. “You mad cause Tsumu brought that girl?” he asks, even though he knows better.

She groans, at once abandoning her efforts of picking her orange clean to lean her head back and groan. “God, she’s so annoying. Like, where the fuck is always finding these girls and how can he stand to be around them for thirty seconds straight?”

Osamu pops his last orange slice in his mouth. He’s already done with his half, and she’s not even done peeling.

Her thumb pokes into the flesh of the orange, and Osamu watches as fresh juice stains her jeans. He sighs, and reaches down to grab the orange for her. He studies it in his hands. She really plucked the fuck out of it. Her head leans against the railing, and she watches as he dutifully and skillfully peels away the remaining bits of white.

“She’s not that bad, y’know,” Osamu says, eyes focused on her orange. “You always make them seem worse than they are.”

The little pith pile gets knocked over when she spins around in her seat to give Osamu an unimpressed look. “She sucks, Samu. She’s airheaded and ditsy and there’s nothing of substance underneath the surface.”

She’s not normally like this. Mean, for no reason. Cruel with her words just because she can be. If you really pressed her, and Osamu won’t, she’d relent pretty easily. Admit that maybe there’s nothing wrong with the poor girl, and the real problem is just that she’s a stranger who showed up on Atsumu’s arm.

Osamu can’t really hold it against her. He has the same kind of attitude towards his own brother.

“I’m just saying,” he starts, tone light, “you don’t gotta be so damn mean just cause you’re jealous.”

She scoffs. “Oh, great, now you like her better than me too.”

Osamu clicks his tongue against his cheek. “Hmm, not quite what I said.”

A wistful and overdone sigh falls from her, as she leans back, one hand gripping the railing in front of her and the other placed delicately over her heart. “Defending her character like her knight in shining armor. You love her so bad.”

He chuckles and does not look up at her when he says, “Nah, I don’t like anyone better than you.”

From the corner of his eye, he watches as she straightens out, and leans her forehead against the metal railing in front of her. “Yeah. At least I have you.”

Yeah. At least.

Osamu drags the last bit of pith away from the flesh of the orange and hands it back to her. She takes it, and mumbles a quick thanks.

He watches her take her first bite. He watches her jaw as she chews, and her throat as she swallows. Osamu watches her eat the orange he peeled for her, and he can only think of how achingly in love with her he is. It makes him nauseous. It makes him feel hollow. It makes him want the smell of oranges to linger with him.

Osamu sits there, so in love with her just watching her peel away an orange slice makes him breathless. And she sits there, in love with his brother.

“I guess I don’t have to be so mean. I just, I just don’t get it, y’know?” she says after a long moment of silence, voice thicker now. “I’ve known him for so long and he’s never looked at me like that. I just don’t know what I don’t have that every other girl he brings around does.”

Osamu leans his back against the railing. “I dunno. Maybe he likes that they’re airheaded and ditsy.”

Her silence makes him nervous. He’s worried joking about it was the wrong move.

He reaches out and places a hand on her knee and hopes the contact of his skin is some comfort to her. He hopes she likes the way his hand feels, heavy and warm. He hopes she’s not wishing it was Atsumu’s, instead. “I dunno. I dunno how any of that shit works. I just know that you can’t force yourself to love someone if you don’t, and you can’t force yourself to stop if you do.”

She hums, and her eyes are on the drop from the balcony, watching people pass by on the sidewalk below, watching cars and their lights. Osamu finds himself leaning in closer to her, so his shoulder presses against the side of her knee. He wants to see her face, all of it. To see her eyes as she thinks and watch as her mouth forms words. He wants to see all of her.

“Can I tell you something stupid?” she asks, hushed. Osmau wouldn’t hear it if he weren’t so close.

“Yeah,” he answers. “Of course you can.”

The music from the party behind them gets louder. People are cheering at something. A car horn honks below them. The air still smells of oranges.

“I think, even if it were just for a night, I just wanna feel wanted,” she confesses, so softly the light wind almost blows it away. “I just wanna know what it feels like. I’ve hoped for so long that at this point I think even a taste of it would satisfy me.”

She stares into the night, and he stares at her. And he’s so split between his desire to give her everything she wants and to take her for himself he doesn’t know what he should do or say to make it better-for him or for her. He just looks at her and feels his chest ache.

She shakes her head, and chukcles mirthlessly. “I’m sorry, that’s probably weird for you to hear, he’s your brother-“

“Just pretend,” Osamu cuts her off.

She looks at him. “What?”

He grabs a gentle hold of her arm and pulls her into his chest. She falls in easily, and Osamu wraps both of his arms around her shoulders, tightly, holding her in close. She doesn’t move. “Just pretend,” Osamu repeats again in her ear. “You can just close your eyes, and pretend I’m him, and then you’ll know what it feels like.”

Osamu half expects her to shove him away, to call him a freak and storm off to tell everyone about this weird shit he just pulled. But she doesn’t. Her face is pressed against his chest, and slowly, her arms snake up to wrap around his waist. She loosens up in his hold, and Osamu wonders if she can feel his heartbeat.

He can’t tell if her eyes are closed or not. He likes to think that they’re opened, but Osamu knows better.

His thumb draws circles in the spot between her shoulder blades. She’s soft and warm, and her breathing is steady and rhythmic. Osamu buries his face in the top of her hair, and takes in the scent of her shampoo.

In the morning, she will pretend that this did not happen. She will talk about the orange and complain about the girl Atsumu bought and she will apologize for how, after this, she got too drunk and Osamu had to bring her home. She will offer to get him coffee and will hold her fingers to his face and tell him they still smell of oranges.

But she won’t bring up this moment, not ever again.

Osamu thinks he knows this; he thinks about it as he tries to pull her closer into his chest. He thinks he knows this is the only moment he will ever get, so he plays pretend right along with her.

an: some light, gentle angst to get us started. i hope u all enjoy <33 please consider reblogging or sending in an ask if u enjoyed <3

taglist: @hiraethwa @lale-txt @kr1nqu @angee444 @psychedellyc @geektastic84 @solzscribblez @asrinchin @nyxlai

[darishima]

fandom post

alright i'm in too many fandoms to list in just my intro post so i'm gonna put them all here. this isn't actually every show i've seen, just the ones i like enough that i might post about them at some point. i'll probably keep adding to this post as i collect more fandoms like shiny rocks

anime fandoms: attack on titan azumanga daioh banana fish berserk black butler bludgeoning angel dokuro-chan blue lock bocchi the rock bungo stray dogs chainsaw man cowboy bebop cyberpunk: edgerunners danganronpa (games & anime) death note demon slayer dr stone dungeon meshi flcl fruits basket fullmetal alchemist: brotherhood (+ 2003) haikyuu hell's paradise hunter x hunter jujutsu kaisen junji ito kakegurui kase-san and morning glories kimi ni todoke komi can't communicate k-on! link click lucky star made in abyss madoka magica mob psycho 100 my hero academia nana neon genesis evangelion nichijou one piece oshi no ko ouran high school host club panty & stocking with garterbelt sailor moon saint young men serial experiments lain sk8 the infinity skip and loafer soul eater spy x family the disastrous life of saiki k the melancholy of haruhi suzumiya the promised neverland trigun toilet-bound hanako-kun tokyo ghoul yuri on ice yu yu hakusho watamote wonder egg priority

non-anime fandoms: atla battlebots disgaea (especially 2) fear and hunger 1 + 2 hannibal nbc hololive (myth + gamers) house md last night in soho mlp needy streamer overload phantom brave rupaul's drag race saya no uta scott pilgrim vs the world/scott pilgrim takes off soul nomad the good place the scapegracers the school for good and evil tolkienverse undertale/deltarune utau vocaloid wings of fire

[deescade]

Nene's Ultimate Husbando Line-up (love triangle + confession scenario) click and drag game!

warnings: flashing images

includes male characters from the following: Genshin Impact, Twisted Wonderland, Spy x Family, Attack on Titan, One Piece, Fairy Tail, Bleach, Jujutsu Kaisen, Haikyuu, My Hero Academia, Katekyo Hitman Reborn, Obey me, Free, Tokyo Revengers, Chainsaw Man, PSYCHO-PASS, Howl's Moving Castle, Durarara, Hunter x Hunter, Demon Slayer, D.Gray-Man, Pandora Hearts, Fruits Basket, Inuyasha, Black Butler, One Punch Man, Naruto, Kuroko no Basket, Death Note, Fire Force, Ouran High School Host Club, Fire Force, Bungou Stray Dogs

op's notes: sorry for the low quality of the gifs! tumblr only allows you to add gifs up to 10MB and with all 151 characters I've compiled into each gif, I had to compress them by A LOT 😢

Game notes • How to Play

Please use a browser other than Google Chrome to play because the GIFs always lock onto their first frame on Chrome. Safari and Firefox work, please try those

If you're on mobile, screenshot the gifs either as a set or individually

[haunted-creations]

⋆˙♡ Anime Valentines Game! ♡˙⋆

⚠️WARNING: Flashing Images

♡ Scenario: You get a Valentine but someone else has their eye on you too. Will you keep the first or take the second?

♡ How to Play: Take a screenshot of all the gifs at once or individually and you'll get your results!

Animes Included: Spy x Family, One Punch Man, Kuroko no Basket, Haikyuu!!, Chainsaw Man, Ensemble Stars, Uta no Prince-sama, My Hero Academia, Free!, Jujutsu Kaisen

*Side Note*: This is technically a click and drag game, but I tested multiple browsers and it seems they don't work that way anymore, hence having to screenshot. When you click and drag the gif on certain browsers it'll only give you the first frame of the gif as a result. Below is a list of the ones I tested.

- Works On: Mozilla Firefox

- Does Not Work: Google Chrome, Microsoft Edge, Opera/Opera GX, Brave, Vivaldi

♡ Happy Valentine's Day! ♡

Feel free to post or reblog your results! :>

[anime-clickanddrag-geemu]

Haikyuu!! click and drag game!!

[takes1]

Hi !!! Hope u had a great day:)

I’d like to request some fluff with maybe Kuroo or Akaashi?

Take care of urself, love u (nd ur works !!)💗

hi!! thank you so much and ty for the request! take care and much love babes!! i kinda ended up using this more fluffy req as a backdrop for a kenma/kuroo/reader series idea i had ;)

warnings. sfw, fluffy / nsfw to follow in future parts

info. fem!reader / kenma-esque!reader / flirty!kuroo / kuroo with a crush / TA!reader / collegeau / quiet-shy!reader / future kenmaxreaderxkuroo / 900 words. reply to be added to taglist

haikyuu collection here.

more links. my ao3. masterlist.

If it wasn't for how slow this class dragged, Kuroo never would have raised a hand for the TA to come over and look over his syntax file.

But he had no intention of staying later, nor getting a shit grade because his lines were wrong, so he resorted to somewhat-desperate measures. Not like the guys at his table were any help, anyway. Two of them never got off their phones, and one was packing up after he breezed through the assignment.

Glazed eyes rolled, semi-jealous, mostly disinterested, over the seat becoming vacant next to him. Try-hard.

It filled with a much better view. How hadn't he noticed the TA was a chick before?

"What's the issue?" You asked, unbelievably quiet and even.

A couple clicks on his keyboard, which he noticed was not perfectly clean at this moment, and a different file replaced the first.

The light reflected back in your eyes- big, and wide, yet completely expressionless. It was familiar, in a way, and he felt almost drawn into you to look for how, or why. He leaned closer just by an inch.

"Nothin'," He mumbled, eyes bouncing back and forth from your face to his laptop, "Just wanted a check."

You didn't look at him. In fact, you weren't going to. He stared at the side of your face and found that you harbored none of the same curiosity for him.

Did he know you from somewhere else?

Unlikely. You looked like you didn't get out much.

"You should take a look at your third line, it's off," You sighed, glancing around the room to locate two more hands up.

Just as you started to stand up and leave him to figure out what was wrong, his chatter demanded that you stay a moment longer.

"Couldn't you just- I don't know, tell me what's wrong with it?" He smirked.

You turned towards him, unamused, and he realized exactly who you reminded him of.

A very handsome, entertained grin filled his face while you explained that it's not your job to do his work.

In the middle of your next sentence, he shamelessly cut you off in a rush of excitement, eyes darting, curious but certainly not innocent, over every bit of you.

"That's it! Kenma-," He chuckled, leaning back in his seat.

"--What-, what?" Your brow furrowed, just about the only emotion you had expressed yet, at his off-putting and ill-timed realization.

"You're just, uh-," He tapped his pencil, tentative, on the desk, and let it go, "You're totally my buddy's type."

"Is that a joke?"

"No! No," He smiled and rubbed his face, clearly occupied with a flurry of thoughts, and somehow settled on, "You should give me your number," In the midst of it all.

You turned around without another word and left to help the other students.

He sat, dumbfounded, still grinning open-mouthed as his pencil rolled off of his desk and hit the floor.

Part of him just couldn't believe he was so off of his usual game. He couldn't recall any other time he had been shut down like that; at least not by a girl.

And yet, it further proved his point since that was something Kenma had done to him multiple times.

He stayed for the entire class just to talk to you again. He had slightly more intelligence than to try and get your help again, so he waited until the room cleared out and you were packing up to attempt smoothing things over.

You visibly straightened, book clutched harder to your chest, when he approached.

"I'm sorry," Kuroo held his hands out in a way that made him seem a bit more harmless, but you didn't let up, "Honest, I didn't mean to freak you out back there."

The guy was tall -towering, even- and his black t-shirt left little to the imagination. You didn't often associate with guys like him, if at all. It threw you off that he kept trying to talk to you.

Your nose was scrunched just a little. Exactly like Kenma when he got upset about something. This time, he kept his cute aggression to himself with a sobering breath.

"I'm Kuroo." He held his hand out for you to shake.

Oh, God. You hated handshakes.

He bit back a smile.

"I'm... (Y/n)," Hesitant, you returned it and tried not to think too hard about how giant his hand was.

It got a lot harder the longer you looked up at him. You felt your face getting warm when you noticed how broad his shoulders were, even when stooped down to come across as more friendly.

"I get not wanting to give your number out," He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, "So I'll just give you mine."

It wasn't until later that you realized there were actually two numbers written down, and you would have no clue which one was his.

"You sure you don't wanna go grab a coffee or something?"

His crooked grin was something out of a romantic novel, but all it did was make you shrink. His even bigger grin told you he already knew the answer.

An instant no- every part of you wanted to get away from this guy so you could just relax again.

"Fair enough," He wasn't subtle in the way he glanced around your face, your hair, your eyes, before tearing himself away, "Just think about it, yeah?"

taglist:

none! reply to be added for future parts

[natashawritesstuff]

I hope your request are open so if u don't mind this one I was hoping to get like haikyuu boys(kageyama,oikawa,atsumu & kenma(maybe))with reader going to the doctors going to see a ultrasound of the babys?if you don't mind i love reading your stuff!have a good day!

pregnant reader x setters

cw: pregnancy stuff, vomit

2 weeks w/ Oikawa 

Oikawa holds your hair back as you throw up in the bathroom toilet. As you wipe your mouth with the napkin he had gotten for you he jokes, “so you don’t like the new recipe?”

You pant, “no, I don’t.’’

Later in the day as the two of you are cuddling on the couch you sit up quickly clutching your stomach and Oikawa looks at you concerned. 

“Baby, are you okay? Should we go to the doctor?”

“No, no, just period cramps probably.”

He paused, “speaking of when was the last time you had it?”

“What? It was….oh shit.”

***

“Congratulations,” the nurse says nervously, reading the room and seeing how you both didn’t seem to be in a celebratory mood. “I’ll give you a minute.” He excuses himself and then closes the door behind him. 

“Parents, huh?” Oikawa says and you can only nod.

“Parents,” you confirm.

“Think we’re ready?”

“Hell no, but…we’ll work it out.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, walking over to the image of your child, “we will be.”

12 weeks w/ Kageyama

“Water?” he asked. 

“Check,” you confirm. 

“Snack for the car?”

“Check,” you sing, holding up a granola bar. 

“Phone?”

“When do I ever forget my phone?” you wager and he clicks his tongue. 

“Right, you do have a problem,” he mutters. 

“Rude.”

“What’s rude is being late, so let’s get going,” he tells you, lacing your fingers together as he nearly drags you out of the apartment.

Ever since finding out you were pregnant, Kageyama, being Kageyama, has been so particular about everything it nearly causes a headache. The moment you wake up, he’s there with water and morning prenatal vitamins, and breakfast is already ready- in fact, everything you eat is already meal-prepped for you, by him, days in advance. He has notes of your favorite foods in his phone back from when you two were dating and used them to predict your cravings. Everything is taken care of and nothing is unexpected. He is seemingly prepared for anything involving the baby.

When you arrive at the office, you can see a hint of a smile fighting to form on his lips. Today is the 12-week ultrasound- aka-

“D-day,” he says, as he helps you out of the car- not that you needed it. 

Today is the day it is confirmed that you two are having a boy. Not to be confused with the day you find out, because Kageyama already knows. He says it’s a ‘dad gut feeling’ something you wouldn’t understand. He’s already ready to fill the nursery with posters of his old volleyball teams for ‘inspiration’ and has his jersey number on a onesie coming in the mail next Tuesday. Kageyama was prepared for anything. 

“And it’s a girl,” the nurse says with a smile and you feel your heart skip a beat before you look back at your husband who stared at the sonogram unblinking. 

“Really?” you ask for the two of you.

“Yes, congratulations.”

The car ride was silent, dinner was silent, everything for the next 4 hours was silent, and you were sure you broke him. It’s not until your moments before turning out the lights does he finally speak. 

“We’re having a girl,” he whispers, voice hoarse from lack of use. 

You turn your head and nod, agreeing, “yeah, baby, we’re having a girl.”

He smiles at you, and a single tear falls as he confessed, “I wasn’t prepared for that.”

His smile turns wobbly and you pull him in for a hug as he sniffles against your shirt. 

“Can we name her Tobia-”

“Baby that’s not funny.”

“I’m not joking-”

“Oh no, you have to be,” you tell him and he chuckles. 

15 weeks w/ Atsumu

You don’t learn how much of a weirdo Atsumu is until you are pregnant. You should have known something was up when he’s giggling when he serves you dinner one night and the moment you take a bite he tells you, “ya  know yer eating our child.”

You nearly spit the food out as you stare at him shocked. 

“What the hell?”

“Did I word that wrong? Our baby’s the size of a sesame seed,” he explains then gestures to your food, confused why you stopped eating. 

This continues on, for 4 weeks it was sesame, 5 poppy seeds, 6 lentils,  and so on and so on. By fifteen weeks little Miya is an apple and he’s grinning all the way through the beginning of the appointment as she spreads the gel on your stomach, which is now finally starting to show a bump.

“There’s baby,” the sonogram specialist says and Atsumu’s eyes grow wide. 

He’s speechless for a moment staring at the sonogram before he whispers, “the little apple has my nose.

“Yeah, I guess he does,” you agree before you confess, “I hope he’s just like you,” but it’s too quiet for him to hear as he can’t bring himself to tear his eyes away from the baby, already the apple of his eye; your little apple.

40 weeks w/ Kenma

“Hey guys,” Kenma greeted his chat as he logged onto his stream. 

Comments started flooding in and he squinted trying to read them, finally catching one, he replies, “no Y/N hasn’t given birth yet.”

“Wish I did,” you call out from the couch in the back of his room and even more comments flood in. 

Once nearly everyone in the chat is asking questions about you, Kenma sighs, sitting back realizing he’s not going to get to the game and accepts it.

How’s Y/N doing?

whens the due date

congratulations

is the nursery done?

boy or girl???

baby kenma loading!!

“Y/N’s fine, the due date passed, thank you, yes the nursery is done, baby girl,” he answers rapidly. 

Then squints again trying to catch a particular question, “I actually wanted to address this. No, you won’t be seeing baby Kenma until she understands what the internet is and can consent to being on it. I also want to keep that portion of my life private.”

how is he already such a good dad

we understand!!

will you teach her how to game off screen

Understandable, still wish we could see her though :/

Kenma leads the last comment and quickly mutes his mic and turns back to you, asking a question the chat can’t hear. After a few minutes, he unmutes and takes the framed photograph of the latest sonogram. 

“There’s baby Y/N,” he introduces your daughter to the world before he quickly takes the picture out of frame. 

Awww!

so cute 

make sure she gets some rest!!

we love you Y/N!!

baby y/n >>>>>>> baby kenma 

Kenma lightly confessing, “yeah, yeah, I like Y/N better than me too.”

hope you like it!

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