#haikyuu x you
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the instant the temperatures begin to drop, it's a signal to atsumu to prepare himself for the months ahead. not because he doesn't fare well in cold weather—atsumu tends to run hot, but you? all the layers of clothing and blankets couldn't prevent the frigid winter air from nipping at you.
atsumu likes to complain about being your personal heater, but you can't help it if your fingers and toes are still freezing even after putting on snug mittens or fuzzy socks.
"yer feet are like ice blocks," he grumbles when your cold extremities brush against his legs. the heat radiating off of him is a warmly welcomed respite from the chilly outside world.
"i can't help it, 'tsumu. winter has a personal vendetta against me apparently."
despite his whining, he does nothing to stop you from tangling your legs with his. or snaking your hands underneath his shirt. or burying your face in the crook of his neck.
your teeth chatter involuntarily even as you're buried beneath two quilts and a comforter, and atsumu is overcome by a wave of protectiveness, securing his arms firmly around your shivering form.
he pretends to be disgruntled, but affection seeps through his words. "are ya happy?"
snuggling closer to him, you hum contentedly, and he feels your smile against his skin. the light touch of your fingers absentmindedly tracing circles on his bare back sends tingles down his spine like stray sparks from a bonfire.
he'll never admit it but atsumu is secretly happy to be your hearth. because even though it may be cold outside, when you're holding him close, how can he deny the swelling warmth in his heart?
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© tetskuro 2024. please do not repost or modify my work.
#⭑—drabbles#haikyuu#atsumu#miya atsumu#haikyuu x reader#atsumu x reader#miya atsumu x reader#hq#hq x reader#haikyuu drabbles#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu fic#haikyuu x you#atsumu x you#atsumu drabbles#atsumu fluff#atsumu fic
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TSUKISHIMA IS THE TYPE OF BOYFRIEND TO . . .
tsukishima x tall-ish reader who wears lipstick
much to everyone's surprise tsukishima is a soft lover. after all what is love if not soft?
outside a restaurant and mid conversation with old friends (the karasuno group together for a reunion that only happens once in a while), without so much as a break in his dialogue, tsukishima sheds his scarf and wraps it firmly around your neck. he's still speaking, but there's a small frown growing on his face as he makes sure the fabric is secure. it's cold out. why aren't you dressed warmer? he doesn't pay attention to the looks of surprise on his friends face (or perhaps he just doesn't notice it). he's in love. why wouldn't he care for his lover?
before a game with the sendai frogs, tsukishima leans forward to get a kiss from you. it's routine. his good luck charm, he insists. and if you're wearing lipstick that stains a little bit, tinting his own just the slightest shade darker of pink, he doesn't say anything. he thinks it's funny, especially when you try to wipe it off him after only for him to wave you away. you'll wipe away all the good luck, he says.
tired after a long day at the museum (who knew working full time would be so tiring?), tsukishima is relieved when he sees you waiting outside for him. he leans into your embrace and rests his head on your shoulder with a soft sigh, feeling the ache in his neck release when you draw circles on his back. grateful, he whispers. i'm so lucky to have you. and you smile. he doesn't see it, but he can feel it with the way your heartbeat picks up.
anxiously awaiting your arrival, tsukishima glances down at his watch. anniversaries were always difficult to plan, but he enjoyed it. picking out flowers and making reservations, he liked having an excuse to see you dress up. only when you came, his heart stuttered and he felt his ears grow pink. suddenly the night's plans felt trivial and words weren't enough to communicate the feelings of his heart, so he settled on i love you. to the moon and back, i love you.
no real ending (or plot) just mushy love sick tsukishima
#katescorner#tsukishima x reader#tsukishima x y/n#tsukishima x you#tsukishima fluff#haikyuu blurbs#haikyuu drabbles#haikyuu x y/n#haikyuu x you#haikyuu x reader#tsukishima kei x reader#tsukishima kei x you#tsukishima kei fluff#tsukishima headcanons#haikyuu x imagines#haikyuu fanfiction#haikyuu imagines
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heads up! — sprinting as we speak (10/30)
kuroo’s got his priorities straight: make the battle at the garbage dump happen, win nationals, go to university, and maybe win the heart of the rival team’s cute manager along the way.
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EXOPLANETS ; Iwaizumi x gn!reader
five times Iwaizumi almost kisses you and one time he does
contains: gn!reader (no pronouns or gendered terms), strangers to lovers, 5+1 things, fluff, mutual pining, diy tattoos, alcohol mention, weed mention, Oikawa mention, shotgunning, five slightly suggestive lines if you squint, a lot of easter eggs and cross-references. written as a gift for @eggyrocks ♡
word count: 4.5k
✧. ┊ ONE
It’s Kyotani’s birthday party and you’re sitting outside on the fire escape, covered in five buckets of fake blood and rolling yourself a cigarette. The wind is icy on your face and the air would smell like early snow if it wasn’t for the dubious popcorn experiments happening in the kitchen right now. You weren’t allowed to smoke inside anymore after someone set one of the dried up houseplants a little bit on fire when stubbing out a cigarette on it (it was just once but the pot was fuming for two days and a half).
Kyotani always brings a mix of the strangest people together. There’s you and your other fellow students from your gender studies class, then guys from his former highschool volleyball team. There is also a bunch of men with face tattoos and a criminal record from his underground fight club (who are currently nailing the choreo to Rihanna in Just Dance), some nerds he met at a Pokémon TCG tournament (you and him once bought a hundred booster packs together while high and he thought he could recover from the financial ruin by winning one of these things) and the small group of housewives from his DND group who he meets once a month.
It’s unclear why Kyotani asked everyone to dress up for this but you’re not mad about having an occasion to drench yourself in fake blood and call it a night. In true Patrick Bateman fashion you also spent hours with excessive skin care prior to the party while you watched your best friend and roommate Atsumu zip himself up in the skimpiest maid outfit you’ve ever seen. It may be early December but that wouldn’t hold him back from showing off his thighs and a bit of his ass cheeks–maybe at heart he was just a 2000s British party girl trapped in the body of a 6’3 athlete. You shared the same cheap cherry lip gloss before heading out in the cold.
A few drinks into the night and your head starts to hurt, which is when you retreat outside through the kitchen window to your usual spot on the fire escape. With the rolled cigarette dangling from your lips, you pat down the pockets of your suit in search of a lighter. You let out a frustrated groan when you realize you lent it to two guys dressed as Melody and Kuromi and that you’ll probably never get it back, which sucked because it had a kitty cat leaning on an eight-ball while smoking on it and you got it for free from your local conbini girl in exchange for a hand-crocheted triangle bikini top.
Someone taps your shoulder and you almost drop your cigarette if it wasn’t for the stranger’s quick reflexes, catching it for you before it would be gone with the wind. His fingers tilt your chin up a little and he puts the cigarette back between your lips. You look up and meet the gaze of Inuyasha.
Or well, a guy dressed as Inuyasha, but it might as well be your childhood crush come to life. Tan skin, sharp snaggleteeth that weren’t part of the costume but still fitting, and a pair of eyes that feel like they’re piercing straight through you. Your stomach does the little flip thing and you briefly wonder what was in the drinks you let Atsumu mix for you, but that was something to ponder on later. For now you only stare back at him, nodding when he asks if the seat next to you is free.
He sits down close to you and then reaches for something hidden in his sleeve and pulls out–your lighter.
“Sorry about my friends. They have a knack for never returning things,” he huffs and you snatch the lighter from him, your face cracking into a smile.
“Very noble of you,” you say, then hold up the light for him when he reaches for the cigarette behind his ear and puts it between his lips as well. His hand comes to cup yours to shield the flame from the wind and for a second your faces are close, so close, before you lean back again, taking a deep inhale of your cig.
“Cool costume. You watch a lot of movies? Me too,” he says and rests his chin on one palm, looking at you. There’s something about his gaze that makes you feel drawn to him and you briefly wonder what he’d look like without the cheap white wig and also if he’d keep the costume on if you were to hook up with him and ask him nicely about it.
“Is that so? Name every movie then,” you retort and it makes him laugh. Fuck. He has a really nice laugh.
You lean over and brush a few strands of the plastic hair behind his ears because the combination of the wind and the lit cigarette seems like a potential fire hazard (you learned a lot about fire hazards this year) and you’d kinda hate to see him combust too soon.
What you don’t expect is him leaning in, almost nuzzling his face into your palm when you do, and looking back at you with a flicker that can only be described as drunk and lovesick. It makes your heart stumble in your ribcage a little.
“Or you can just tell me your name. Unless you want me to save your contact as ‘Inuyasha’ in my phone. I can do that too,” you add when you pull your hand away, as if you’ve burned yourself by getting a bit too close to the sun. You put your cigarette between your lips and pull out your phone, tapping the screen a few times before glancing up at him again.
“It’s Iwaizumi. Hajime Iwaizumi.”
You think a lot about kissing Hajime Iwaizumi for the rest of the night.
✧. ┊ TWO
Osamu and Suna share the apartment directly below yours and when they text you that they made weed brownies, you didn’t really think about just how many of them they made. Together with Atsumu you shuffle downstairs, not expecting a bunch of other people to be there. Maybe then you would’ve worn something that wasn’t Atsumu’s old highschool club shirt and a pair of velour track pants you bedazzled yourself so it would read “soup” across your butt, but here you are.
“Is this some kind of side business now?”, you ask Suna when you pull him aside. He has the biggest, shit-eating grin known to man plastered across his face and shakes his head.
“A bunch of guys from his culinary school said they didn’t know how to bake weed brownies and Osamu offered to teach them, and somehow it turned into a ‘bring your own weed, get a tray of brownies’ party,” he replies and leans a little closer to you, which you know means he has a piece of juicy gossip to share. “One guy here totally got scammed, too. Spent ¥24,000 on some, can you believe?”
You almost choke on the piece of brownie in your hand. Osamu pressed it faithfully into your palm the moment you entered the kitchen, knowing he could trust you with it. Both of you had a very loose definition of trust–to Osamu it meant believing you won’t be dumb enough to eat more than one piece of the brownies, to you it meant you won’t change the contact names in his phones to soup ingredients again, no matter how high, and you both respected that.
“What, was it gold-dusted or something?” You cough and laugh, tears pricking in the corners of your eyes while Suna pats your back with empathy. “What a guy. Introduce us, I need to add him to my dream blunt rotation.”
Your eyes follow the direction Suna is nodding at, somewhere in the living room, and you meet the gaze of Iwaizumi Hajime slash Inuyasha from the fire escape. You start laughing again and head over to him, the sulk written all over his face.
“Not a word. I know, I know,” he groans when he makes space for you next to him on the couch. You squeeze in beside him and hug your knees to your chest, then catch the pillow he’s throwing at you when you can’t stop laughing the second you look at him.
“It’s okay. Actually, it’s kinda cute.” “Are you just saying that to make me feel better?” “So what if I do?”
Iwaizumi huffs again and his arm just happens to be behind you on the couch, his fingertips ghosting over your shoulder. Appreciate it, he grumbles, and eventually his face softens when you start telling him some anecdotes of your high life that definitely make the ¥24,000 weed purchase seem a little less dramatic.
It’s loud in the apartment, with music blasting and people chattering, but you barely register any of it; too absorbed by his eyes that dart to your lips every now and then, and his tongue poking out from between his lips when he does, and the rattling desire in your chest that he could kiss you right here, right now.
His fingers grab your chin and tilt your face up again, just like they did last time on the fire escape, except now he’s brushing over the corners of your mouth, collecting a few crumbs that were still there. He brings them to his lips, licking them off in one clean swipe of his tongue, and you’re pretty sure you’d let him devour you.
✧. ┊ THREE
Mattsun–the Kuromi from Kyotani’s party–and his friends from the forensics science department are hosting an Addams Family themed christmas party on their floor of the dorm and this time you don’t make the mistake of giving your lighter away. Atsumu is on a noble mission to “get laid by one of the goths” and you’re on your own, but not for long.
“Oh, it’s you! Almost didn’t recognize you without all the fake blood,” Makki–the Melody from Kyotani’s party–shouts across the room when he spots you in the crowd and squeezes past all the people to clink his drink against yours. “You left quite the impression.”
“That so?”, you ask with a raised eyebrow and Makki gives you a boyish grin. You already have a feeling where this conversation is heading.
“Hajime won’t shut up about you. Like, ever,” he says and links his arm with yours, dragging you to the other end of the hallway. “He’s here too, by the way. Last time I saw him he was winning some kind of arm wrestling contest, but if you ask me people just wanted to ogle at his biceps. Can you blame them?”
Speaking of the devil, you find Iwaizumi stumbling out of the bathroom, stilling when he sees you. His hoodie is tied around his waist and he’s wearing some baggy jeans and a tight, sleeveless compression shirt that does show off his arms nicely. Very nicely. So nicely you forget what to say for a brief second.
Makki shoves you into Iwaizumi’s arms before heading off somewhere else, probably asking Mattsun to push him against the nearest wall, and you’re alone with the boy again. He caught you by your shoulders, his hands now resting on top of them while he looks you up and down. You wonder if he’ll do the chin thing again, and maybe if third time’s a charm and he’s gonna kiss you tonight for real.
Instead he asks, “do you want to check out the tattoo station they set up in the other room?” and because your impulse control has vanished the moment you entered his orbit, you agree without a second thought. Maybe not even a first thought. Ten minutes later you’re wearing a pair of black latex gloves and hover over Iwaizumi who is lying shirtless on his back in front of you.
“Kinda sad you don’t want a tramp stamp. It’d look good on you,” you sigh with feigned annoyance while rubbing an alcohol soaked pad over his hip bones to disinfect that part, trying hard to keep your eyes pinned on there, but it’s kind of an impossible thing to ask of you. It would be a shame if you didn’t appreciate the canvas in front of you.
“Maybe next time,” Iwaizumi exclaims with the confidence of a man who simply doesn’t do the whole ordeal of regretting. It’s admirable, really. “And I let you pick the design of this one, didn’t I?”
That he did. You drew a wonky oval shape on the stencil paper which was kind of impressive as it was, given the drinks you had prior to that. Iwaizumi took the pencil from you and added a similar one, overlapping with yours.
“That’s two eggs,” you muttered, tilting your head to the side and trying hard to focus–which again, was a hard task at hand, given that Iwaizumi leaned over your shoulder shirtless. He smelled nice. You noticed that the first time you met already. Something between fresh laundry, a spritzer of YSL Y on the side of his nape and a hint of sweat, but not unpleasant. It made you want to dig your teeth into the curve of his neck and shoulder.
“It’s a heart, dumbass,” Iwaizumi huffed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, second to how much both of you were thinking about kissing the other.
✧. ┊ FOUR
When Kenma invited you over to his place for the Bouncing Ball winter party, you were promised free unlimited food and a goodie bag, but all you got was ancient rage and a badly rolled cigarette passed back and forth between Iwaizumi and you.
“I will fucking kill Oikawa with my bare hands,” you mutter under your breath and squeeze the can of lychee soda (branded with the Bouncing Ball logo) that you’re holding a little tighter.
“Believe me, I’ve tried many times in the past but this bastard always comes back. Like some demon lord or something.” Iwaizumi takes an angry drag of the cigarette before holding it between your lips again. His fingers brush lightly against your skin when he does and it’s the only thing that calms you down a little.
“Like. The blue shell right before the finish line felt so personal, right?”
Kenma had sent both of you into timeout outside when you almost flung the unstrapped Wii remote towards the flatscreen and Iwaizumi might or might have not punched a hole into the shoji door after Oikawa won the third round of Mario Kart in a row and was being awfully smug about it.
You’re sitting on the backstairs together, huddled close to each other from the cold and the unspoken desire to kiss the other one stupid. With every minute you spend like this your anger vaporizes little by little, until all you can feel is the body heat radiating off Iwaizumi’s body and how calloused his hand is when he takes yours into his.
He’s wearing the hat you crocheted for him, an apology for the crooked hand poked tattoo you gave him a few days prior to today which now adorned his hip bone. At least it wasn’t infected which was a tiny miracle given the circumstances. His face lit up when you handed the hat to him, wrapped in some tin foil because neither you nor Atsumu own gift paper and that’s the most festive you could do with the utensils you had at hand. At least you threw in a little bit of confetti which was now stuck in his dark hair.
You pick some of it off his strands and Iwaizumi leans a little closer. It reminds you a lot of a big cat asking for head scratches.
“‘s nice, with you,” he mumbles without looking at you and gives your hand a small squeeze. His thumb rubs over your knuckles with unexpected gentleness and your head sinks against his shoulder.
“Really nice,” you agree quietly, allowing yourself to close your eyes.
The moment could have been perfect. Just the two of you, the stubbed out cigarette at your feet and the sweet taste of artificial lychee on your lips, the slowly falling snow. If only it wasn’t for the backdoor being flung open again, carrying the chatter and the music from inside towards you and a too familiar voice that will surely haunt your nightmares chirping “yahoo~”, making Iwaizumi next to you groan in agony.
You spend the rest of the night losing another ten rounds of Mario Kart and Oikawa manifests as your sleep paralysis demon from now on, but at least you got to hold Iwaizumi’s hand under the table a little longer.
✧. ┊ FIVE
Hinata is back home from his semester abroad in Brazil. He texted the groupchat a photo of him (wow, he got really tan and buff, you think) and the three giant boxes of oranges that he brought with him and invited everyone over for an impromptu reunion party at his place.
It’s not as excessive as other parties of your friends, more of a get together that lasts an entire weekend with everyone dropping by and going as they please, as long as they take a few oranges with them.
You quite literally ran into Iwaizumi on your way there, your hands full with a bunch of books you borrowed from the library prior to that and him almost crashing into you when he skated around the corner on his longboard. He wore the hat you crocheted him again (with less confetti this time) and offered you his scarf and a ride. You almost wish Hinata would live at the other end of the world just so you’d have an excuse to sit cross-legged on his board in front of him while he pushes it slowly for a little longer.
Maybe he’ll give you a ride home if you ask him nicely. Maybe the right words would fall out of your mouth this time. Maybe he’ll kiss you on the threshold, with his fingers tracing your jaw and your lips parting for him so willingly.
At Hinata’s place you find your way underneath the kotatsu with Iwaizumi by your side. The air smells like hot punch and christmas cookies and you listen for hours to Hinata talking about the things he experienced while abroad. You swipe through photos on his tablet while around you people come and go, and the entire time Iwaizumi sits so close to you that your knees keep touching underneath the table. Occasionally his hand brushes over the small of your back or pulls you a little closer towards him when someone else squeezes beside you, his touch lingering but never overbearing.
It’s getting late and you should probably go home soon, considering the last looming deadline you still had to tackle before your winter break, but it’s not easy to peel yourself away from Iwaizumi. Not when he draped his jacket over your shoulders and his fingers brushed the nape of your neck, and especially not when he starts peeling oranges for you and starts pushing the slices directly between your lips when you’re too lazy to lift your head.
You watch him quietly as he does, his fingers that are usually a little bruised and roughed up now impossibly gentle as he digs through the citrus skin, peeling away layer after layer. It’s beautiful, you think. He’s beautiful. You wonder if he could do the same to you, tearing through every bit of resistance you put up to protect your heart, or maybe if it was already bare in front of him the entire time, ready for him to sink his teeth into your flesh.
You hope he’ll peel a thousand more oranges for you in this lifetime.
✧. ┊ ONE, AGAIN
It’s winter solstice and Atsumu and you decide to host one last party at your home before the year ends. Together you go out to buy liquor and one mistletoe (for the festive spark of it all) but the lady from the flower store insists you take all of them for free since they’re closing soon and she would throw them out anyway. So now there’s around fifty mistletoes hanging from every ceiling of your apartment and the entire hallway of your floor, and you briefly wonder just how many mistletoes it would take for Iwaizumi to kiss you tonight.
Osamu begrudgingly agrees to prepare some food since you’d end up raiding their fridge around 2AM anyway if he doesn’t, meanwhile Suna shows you some paparazzi-esque photos on his phone that he took of Iwaizumi and you over the span of this month. For once you’re grateful that he snaps a photo of everything and everyone, because swiping through these makes your heart do a little flip in your chest.
There’s one with both of you smoking on the fire escape, leaning in close to catch the flame of the lighter. You with your legs thrown over his lap on their couch while waiting for the weed brownies, his arm resting behind you on the couch. The moment when Iwaizumi takes his tight compression shirt off in front of you (it’s slightly blurry and Suna blames it on the goths and their shitty lighting). Iwaizumi and you pinning Oikawa to the floor and a Wii controller on the verge of becoming a murder weapon. You napping with your head on top of your folded arms, a plate with some orange peel in front of you, Iwaizumi’s hand in the back of your neck while looking down at you fondly.
To be adored by Iwaizumi Hajime feels tender and mellow. There’s something magical about it; never loud or overwhelming, and yet never leaving room for doubt how he does love you with his entire being. It comes to him as natural as breathing. A love as toasty warm like a black cat basking in the sun, storing sunshine in every fibre of your soul.
When you open the door for him later that night, he hugs you longer than usual, his arms caging you in his embrace. He murmurs something about all these mistletoes against the shell of your ear and you laugh.
“I think it’s a dumb tradition, but they’re quite beautiful, aren't they?”, you ask and Iwaizumi pulls back slightly to look at you, his hand cupping one side of your face now.
“More than just beautiful,” he mumbles, not talking about the mistletoes.
You learn that night that Iwaizumi doesn’t dance (other than Oikawa and Atsumu who are currently destroying the Dance Dance Revolution dance pads in the living room), but he’ll happily spend hours watching you do your DJ thing. Anything as long as he can be in your proximity. He’s leaning back in the chair in the corner behind your pult, a cold Tiger beer in one hand, his chin resting on the other and his gaze never leaving you. It’s like he’s your personal bouncer for the night. You quite like that. It’s an oddly protective gesture but it makes you feel warm and giddy.
“Someone just asked me if they can snort protein powder off my biceps,” he tells you when you return from the bathroom back to his side. He holds up a cigarette he rolled for you meanwhile. You lean down and let him put it between your lips before he reaches for your lighter stored in his pocket.
“And did you let them?”, you ask, your face illuminated for the flick of a second when he lights up the cigarette for you. You’re standing between his spread legs and Iwaizumi reaches for your hips, making you stumble a little closer to where he was sitting. His chest is heaving now, his pupils dilating when he lets his eyes wander over you. You’ve seen this expression before, you think. It’s been the same from when you touched him for the first time, back then on the fire escape.
“Told them I was already taken,” he murmurs, almost not audible, and even in the dim light you can see the tip of his ears dusted in a dark pink color. His eyes flick up to yours and his expression is something between pleading and demanding. Oh.
How brazen.
He lets out a labored breath when you push him back in his chair, making room for you to straddle his hips. His hands find your thighs, fingers digging into your supple flesh and it’s clear that he doesn’t plan on letting you go for the rest of the night. Or, forever maybe.
You take a long drag of your cigarette and this time it’s you cupping his chin, tilting it up and hovering above him. Iwaizumi doesn’t need to be told what to do, his head falling back, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly before he parts his lips and lets you blow a mouthful of smoke into his lungs. It’s greedy, how he swallows it so willingly, watching you through half-lidded eyes. Hungry. Begging. Adoring.
He’s in love with you like no one else ever was.
“I need to kiss you or else I’m going insane.”
His voice is hoarse, strained. As if he is clinging to the last bit of his resistance and sanity. In one swift movement he snatches the cigarette from your lips with one hand and carelessly drowns it in his half-empty beer bottle, his other hand wraps around the back of your neck and pulls you closer to him again.
“Please,” he huffs and it sounds like he’s pierced with ten swords, in agony over not feeling your lips against his. “Pretty please.”
Your arms wrap around him and you kiss him. During the longest night of the year it’s like the sun is rising just for you. You don’t think, just let the feeling wash over you as your body melts against his. Iwaizumi lets out a quiet growl and kisses you back, gently at first, until your tongue slides against his and his calloused hands against your bare skin start trembling slightly. He’s using every ounce of self-restraint so he wouldn’t devour you on the spot. He knows you’d let him and that is a problem.
“Took you long enough,” you mumble against his lips once you pull apart to breathe, which could have been an hour later or a lifetime. Time becomes a blur under the soft caress of Iwaizumi. He mirrors your smug smile, stealing another kiss from your lips.
“I’ll make up for it,” he rasps, closing his eyes when you rest your forehead against his. His hands on your waist pull you impossibly closer again, his fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt, caressing the sliver of skin there. He lets out a quiet hum, a sound very close to purring. “Gonna kiss you stupid till you forget your own name and can only remember mine.”
“Silly,” you huff back and kiss him again. “Is this a threat or a promise?”
“Both. With you, it’s both.”
a/n: hi eggy ily!! your wishlist was spectacular and i had a lot of fun writing this for you (at some point it got a little out of hand i'll admit lmao). hope you enjoyed your gift and that the rest of your 2024 will be warm and tender. trying not to get sappy here, just know you always leave such a mark with anything you write, it's something i deeply admire. happy holidays & all the love for you <3
#hq x reader#iwaizumi x reader#iwaizumi x you#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x gender neutral reader#haikyuu x you#iwaizumi hajime#haikyu x reader#haikyuu reader insert#haikyuu imagines#hq reader insert#hq fluff#hq imagines#iwaizumi fluff#hq x reader secret santa 24
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New years kiss!suna rintarou x reader
timeskip obvi, drinking, fluff, angst if you squint super duper hard, crack, profanity, atsumu being a wingman and lwk annoying at the same time ᡣ𐭩 (also not proofread lightly looked over tho?)
Osamu decided to have a little small get together for new years, it being him, atsumu, suna, kita, you. The rest of msby and epj raijian I guess it wasn’t so small but it was atsumu fault since he made the guest list, and of course you had to help set up the rooftop of miyas onigiri shop where the party was going to take place since everyone else lacked creativity and everyone had their own Jobs to do osamu was in charge of food, Sunas was drinks, atsumu was bodyguard aka stood their and did nothing until kita put him to clean and sweep the rooftop it felt like highschool all over again, planning parties while someone’s parents were away kita trying to convince everyone that this was not a smart decision yet still being there (saving atsumu from plenty of black outs) “the gangs all back together” atsumu said as he let out a sigh while everyone was outside setting up the final things causing a cringed face from everyone and an eye roll from osamu “we were all together literally last weekend you idiot” suna said “he probably doesn’t remember since be passed out after the second round of soju” you said laughing “it’s funny to you guys but you weren’t there having to make his fat ass food at 3am” osamu said annoyed “whatever whatever let’s all have fun.” Atsumu proposed, and the fun of the night was filled with laughter and catching up talking about Japan’s volleyball stats and everyone’s plans for the small little break. It was nice seeing everyone like this again. As you stand their leaning a bit on the edge with your drink in hand watching over the city suna comes next to you “figured you needed some company over here” he said staring at the scenery as well “how thoughtful of you rin” you giggle “what’s your New Year’s resolution this time” he asked, “I don’t know I guess I don’t really have one, you?” You say looking at him admiring his side profile “get to the Olympics maybe fall in love? Whatever the new years brings me I guess” he says shrugging with a small smile on his face “falling in love? That’s new I guess it’s time for that huh” you say curious to what brought this on, did he have someone in mind but the thought of that made your heartache in some way. Since unfortunately you’ve been aware of your feelings for suna since earlier last year you didn’t have time to dwell or act on them before since you were so busy, but since everything has been slowing down it’s slowing been creeping up on your mind “I don’t know if it’s time for it to be honest but I’d be ready for it if it came” he said looking at you now observing your features which causes a pink tint to grow across your cheeks the was a moment of silence until atsumu came squishing himself between the two of you “so who’s getting a new years kiss” he says cooing “not you with that alcohol smell from your mouth” suna says rolling “boo you’re no fun” atsumu says leaving you two alone “guys the fireworks and countdown are about to start” bokuto says yelling you and suna turn to look at each other with a smile and then look at the city “3…2..1”
you and everyone else says which somehow causes you to hold sunas hands instinctively probably because of nerves which he didn’t mind at all he holds on a bit tighter which causes you to look up at him to find him already staring at you “kiss me.” he said “huh?” you look at him confused to what the fuck he was saying right now. “tsumu told me about your little crush ya know” he said smirking “that piece of shit” you murmured “i feel the same yn. I always have so kiss me."He said looking serious, you couldn’t muster up a snarky reply like usual or anything at all but you nodded yes “i need a yes or a no yn” he said “yes suna.” you look at him those being the only words you can get out which gave suna the go away to lean in and you doing the same the moment felt surreal and natural all at once the fireworks made it even more magical “my plan worked” atsumu said grinning which caused you and suna to separate and roll your eyes at him in sync “i guess i got one thing off my list for new years” suna said smiling holding you close “i guess you did.” you say smiling because you wouldn’t have it anyother way.
a/n- wrote this only for meeya lwk and thanks to dee for forcing me to write this actually helped me outta my writers block a bit
#cherrysurf writes#suna rintaro x y/n#suna rintaro fluff#suna rintaro smau#suna rintaro imagines#suna rintarō#hq suna#haikyuu suna#suna rintaro x reader#suna x reader#suna rintarou#haikyu x you#haikyu x y/n#haikyu x reader#haikyuu x#haikyuu x y/n#haikyuu x imagines#haikyuu crack#haikyuu comfort#haikyuu x you#haikyuu x reader
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heyy I must tell you all those tsukishima fics were so good😭 i used to literally log on to tumblr everyday just becausd of yoy😭 can I request a mattsun x oblivious reader?? Where he has tried multiple times to tell her thwt he likes her but something or the other happens and he can't and also thr reader has absolutely no idea that he likes her. Maybe in thr end he can be like do you not like me and stuff snd then she is so confused becsue she did not think thwt he'd like her back snd lmao they go out later
mattsun x oblivious!reader
the sheer quantity of tsukki lovers was a shock when i first started posting that old series lemme tell you. i rlly appreciate that!!
warnings. sfw, fluff
details. libero!reader / girls team!reader / mattsun fluff / aoba johsai fluff / oblivious!reader / platonic?cuddling / mattsun is always warm / giving you his jacket trope / rbf!mattsun / thinking he hates you trope / pda / 2k words
links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3. requests OPEN
There was only so much to be done about the bitter cold tonight. The Aoba Johsai teams had their joint biyearly dinner, but thanks to a last-minute close for renovation at your usual spot, you and at least fifteen others were stuck waiting for a reservation outside on the town square.
"Fuck-k!" Oikawa shuddered loudly, teeth chattering as he stepped out from the restaurant you were all barred from.
Somebody whined, "I just wanna sit down!"
Iwa trailed close behind, steam practically coming off of his head as he stared down at his phone. He kept his foot in the door for an older couple, sparing a passive-aggressive look at how easily they were seated.
"It'll be another 20 minutes at least," You overheard him, quiet but frothing with frustration, to your own team captain.
Only a few were properly dressed for the weather outside. It was getting darker fast, and the wind was picking up.
You were able to catch a glimpse of his phone screen. He had the estimated wait time from the restaurant's website; 5 groups were before you, but they were nowhere to be seen.
A harsh wind howled through the street and inspired you to jump behind the nearest body. You and the other liberos were lucky to have your faces protected by the gathered group of shoulders and chests, but that's where your blessings ended. Your cardigan could've been made of tissue paper, how thin it was.
The wind settled and you glanced to see who you had nestled up to- you jumped back with a muffled yelp. It went ignored because of the symphony of complaints, curses to the weather.
Matsukawa was glowering down at you. God, was he warm, but he was so mean.
He was the most unsettling member of the guys' team by far. You got along fine with everyone else, but there was some unspoken hatred in his eyes every time you had to interact with him.
He often tried to speak with you after practice, about receiving of all things, quizzing you about your methods from the games he watched or practices he caught. You didn't like how his questions were made to make you feel stupid, so you tended to keep it short with him and run away as soon as you could.
His stare was harsh and judgmental, his frown deep and unforgiving. It gave the impression that he was tearing you apart in his mind.
"Awww, (Y/n)," Your captain, whom you had backed into, put her arms around you at once.
She didn't offer as much heat as him, but it helped to make you feel safer, and wanted. You turned and pressed your face against her chest as she pulled her jacket around the both of you.
Most of the girls were huddled similarly, choice of attire more of an issue than the heavy-coated guys.
Matsukawa wore a thick, black work hoodie, nice thick pants, boots, and a utility jacket over that. You squinted, jealous and bitter, at how he wasn't shivering at all.
"Tw- t-twenty- minutes?" You shuddered against her, sniffling.
She hummed, her cold, dead fingers no help against your sides.
The wind was so strong that it stole your breath with every gust. Your ears were throbbing, your nose numb, even when another teammate joined the huddle.
Not only had you not dressed for the cold, but you didn't expect to be standing so much, so your heels were killing your feet. Another twenty minutes wasn't doable.
"Hey! There's some benches over here!" Somebody called from down the sidewalk and around the corner.
Those that knew it would take longer, especially in uncomfortable shoes, instantly started to migrate away from the door of the restaurant.
The benches were a little wet from the light drizzle earlier. It made most of your teammates hesitate to sit down, including you. You gave a dismal sniffle, completely exhausted from shivering, unable to get any colder or more glum. You peeled off your cardigan.
"Hey, wait wait-!"
"Noo!"
Your teammates gasped, grabbing at you, as you used it to wipe the bench dry.
You turned, offering them a seat, your ferocious shaking in direct contrast to the point you were trying to make.
"It- was-wasn't keeping me warm-- anyway," You struggled to declare.
The three of you sat down on the freezing metal. At least it was dry now. You stared, twitching hard, at the soggy ball in your numb fingers and tried to zone out.
Your eyes had been closed when someone big squeezed in next to you, at the end of the bench. It was too much energy to open them to see who it was.
But a heavy, warm, and cozy presence over you shocked you to open your eyes again.
"Put this on before you pass out," Matsukawa muttered, hands grabbing at the back of his own hoodie, too.
Your face would've felt warm if not for the conditions. It was already stinging, but it stung some more.
"Thank you," You shivered.
His lowered, studied stare at you as you struggled to put on his hoodie with numbed limbs made you feel like a dumbass. He probably thought you were an idiot.
His arm was so solid as he took his outer jacket back, to put it on over his long sleeve shirt. You quickly put up the plush hood and pulled the drawstrings, ears pounding at the relief of some heat.
Then his arm was back, around your shoulders, rubbing firm to get you warmed up faster.
"Thank you," You repeated, better now, and all you could possibly think to say.
When you glanced at him, you found him looking around. There was a protective air to him, like he was busy watching for something while he took care of you. He wore it well.
His hoodie smelled distinctly like him and you found that you did not mind it in the slightest. You were subtle, pulling it over your nose -breathing deep now that you weren't struggling to filter this icy cold air-, letting your body get wracked by his strong rubbing, your head steadied a little on the inside of his big shoulder. It slowly fell, heavier, on him as you learned to trust that he was being helpful.
The wind picked up again- this time you felt invulnerable to its brutality, but he squeezed his working arm into your waist and pulled you, shockingly easy, into his side with no space left between your bodies.
At this point, you were feeling guilty for enjoying it so much. There was no ounce of softness in his angry face to indicate he wanted to hold you. His nose crunched more at the wind, now that he had less layers to protect him. You could only assume he was just being chivalrous.
It made the remainder of the wait harder, in a different way.
"Oh," Iwa raised his brow at you as you passed him to go inside.
He didn't look at you for long, because he referred his gaze to Matsukawa and exchanged a smirk you couldn't see.
When you were all seated, nobody went to sit right next to you. The table was full except for the one seat while everyone filed in. At first, Watari pulled the chair out, but took one look at you and also said, "Ooh," before sitting elsewhere.
Matsukawa sat down without so much as a look at you.
Every guy at the table was looking at him, so you knew you were right about something. You just didn't know what, yet.
The whole evening, he was quiet and only spoke a few times when directly referred to. Otherwise, you felt the weight of his subtle, unwavering gaze anytime you mustered up the courage to contribute to the conversation at the table.
Surely he just wanted his hoodie back. He wore it so often, so it must have been how pitiful you looked outside to make him give it up like that.
Bellies full, bill paid, and a little more relaxed after a fun dinner out with friends despite his presence, you were all starting to leave to go home.
You stood still outside for a moment, sniffling but content, pulling up a route on your phone to walk back to the bus stop. It was a subtle way to wait for him to come out, so you could give him back his hoodie and brave the freezing journey back.
"You got somebody to walk you back?"
He leaned down to speak quietly, just to you. You watched his hand close the distance and rest on your shoulder. It made you stutter.
"Not- not officially."
Then he was walking you back to the bus stop, making a silent trek more difficult than it had to be if you had just gone by yourself. When you spared some meager glances at him, he had that same vibe about him- like he was preoccupied, displeased, and would be unpleasant if you tried to say anything.
It would be another five minutes for the bus.
He stood close to you, his arm against yours, because this bench was wet and you weren't going to repeat that mistake.
"Do you- uh," He rocked a little on his heels when you looked at him, "Do you not... like me?"
It was a staggering question. You held yourself, painfully aware that you were only standing because of his hoodie around you.
"Sure, I like you," You said in a stilted tone.
It wasn't enough and you knew it as it rolled off your tongue.
You cleared your throat. He looked away.
"I mean- I thought you hated me before today, so," You gave an empty laugh to help ease the tension.
"Hate you?" He turned towards you, hands in his pockets. It was the most emotion you had ever seen on his face.
Clearly, something was off. You squinted at him but only could hold it for a second, "Well, yeah, you're kinda... mean-,"
The shock on his face made you stumble over your words.
"But- uh, today you were so nice! Thank you, for your hoodie, that was very sweet-," You glanced around his face, confused, trailing off, "-of, you..."
He ran a hand through his hair with a sigh, eyes closed, pained at your words. You felt astoundingly guilty, more cold than ever, in a way.
"I gave you my hoodie because I like you."
He put the hand back in his pocket, turning to face the street, watching the lamp posts with a forlorn air about him, "I've been tryin' to ask you out for months."
Your mouth hung open. You covered it, after a few seconds, with your hand.
Was that what all the looks meant? Was that seriously what he was getting at every time he spoke to you? Your face warmed- a welcome sensation.
"I... didn't know," You said simply, pressing up to his side.
It worked, thank god, and though it took him a second, he put a hefty arm around you.
"You were really that clueless?" He muttered, rubbing his warm face with his other hand.
The truth did feel pretty obvious in hindsight, but you reminded him, "You're more intimidating than you think."
In the quiet, the bus sighed around the corner.
"So... I can keep the hoodie?"
You looked up at him, excited at what you could see now as his nervousness. He pressed a hasty kiss to the top of your head as the bus rolled to a stop in front of you.
"Hell, yeah."
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let it be me | kuroo tetsurou (4)
In which you, as a new divorcée, can't help but crush on your 4-year-old's new PE Coach.
genre: singleparent!reader x coach! Kuroo, fluff, acquaintances-to-lovers
taglist: @patpatspatz @matchagirliris @multi-fandom-fanfic @alittlebirdahgaselx @kuroos--little--kitten @menacejelly12 @aeshiue @dreamlessnight @altheades @loonalockley @not-your-average-fangirl @bertqut1 @sunlixfl-blog @nabboo007 @astolary @biancatomlinson @lauraagrace
a/n: enjoy! <3 thanks for all the love given to the first part of this story! here's the second part. Third part is coming soon ~
---- previous | part four | next part >>>
"I think I need a drink."
"Oh don't be so dramatic," your cheeks flush bright red. It's bad enough you don't know what to wear to your date with Kuroo, worse now that your blonde cousin is here to make fun of you until you're nothing but a squealing mess of embarrassment. You have half a mind to kick Atsumu out of your flat and call Osamu for help.
Alas, the grey-haired counterpart is busy with his restaurant these days. So it won't be fair to put that kind of responsibility on his shoulders. Definitely not when his twin is currently on vacation.
Atsumu just sends you a lazy smile from the living room couch, "aw c'mon Y/N. This is probably the first time since Aoi left that you're finally interested in someone. Isn't that something worth celebrating?"
"It's just dinner," you argue.
"And dessert," Atsumu winks.
You throw a pillow at him. He cackles even when it slams right into his face, "I'm joking!" he wheezes like a child high on sweets, kicking up his legs like Sakura would when she's excited, "I just can't believe it! And with someone I can vouch for!"
"What does vouch mean?" Sakura asks from her seat. She had been so glued to the tv screen ever since her uncle had the greatest idea to watch the reruns of the two Frozen movies. Little does he know he'll be stuck re-winding it again and again until he knows the lyrics by heart.
"Vouch for, means like to confirm something, from personal experience," Atsumu replies.
"Hm," Sakura frowns, as though an adult trying to contemplate his words, "I don't understand."
"`It's like if you tell me that you won third place at the egg race," you lean over the couch to rearrange your daughter's hair, "and I say that's something I can vouch for, that you won third place."
You watch, heart melting as Sakura's lips form an 'o' shape. She blinks up at you, "I still don't understand."
Atsumu guffaws, "it's okay sweetie. You don't have to understand it yet. You want some more of those marshmallows?"
You slap your cousin's hand away from the half-empty bowl, "that's exactly why her teeth are rotting," You snap at him, "why don't you give her real food?"
"I will! Once you get off my back and go have some incredible se--"
You toss another pillow at him and his yelp makes you let out a small chuckle. Thank god Sakura can't really put two and two together yet, and for that you're glad. At least it's possible to shield her innocence from Atsumu's wide mouth.
"Can you just go?" mumbles the said man himself from behind the pillow, "I thought your date was at six."
"Yeah but it's--" and that's when you realise it's not half-past five like you thought it was five minutes ago, "Oh shi--I mean shoot," you cut a glance at Sakura while grabbing your bag off the kitchen counter, "I'm off. You take care of her and--"
You round the couch, plant a quick kiss atop your daughter's head before heading towards the door, "--you keep her safe 'Tsumu!" you holler while tugging on your loafers, "and Sakura? Eat your veggies!"
"But I hate them mum!"
"They're good for you, and--"
"Y/N," Atsumu cuts you off with a shooing motion, "go. Now. Bye bye."
"Yeah--Yeah okay," you blow a raspberry and throw a final wave, "right. Bye then."
The dining place which Kuroo has suggested a few days back -- right after the incident in which you'd found yourself into his arms -- is tucked away into one of the corner streets, not quite far from the main road, and yet unnoticeable to passerby's with just one glimpse.
It's modern and cute, casual in a way that unconsciously makes you relax slightly as you walk through the olive-coloured doorway and take in the sight of rusty brick walls adorned with green ivy running along the ceiling, the wooden furniture and the cozy bar at the far right.
Kuroo is already seated at one of the smaller, circular tables, and raises a hand in greeting while you make your way to him.
"Hey," he's dressed differently today. Not at all how you usually see him; a dark v-neck and some dark trousers to match.
The sight makes your tummy tighten deliciously, "hi," you manage to croak back.
"I really thought you were going to bail on me," he has on a teasing smile, "guess I was wrong."
"That's the impression I gave you?" your eyebrows raise.
"You always surprise me," his grin widens at the heat flushing through your cheeks. Cute, he thinks, "anyway, I've never been here but they have good cocktails. Or so google says."
"You're that kind of person aren't you?" You take a menu from the centre of the table and scan the options, "the kind that reads a hundred of reviews before deciding on a restaurant?"
"That's what it's for, isn't it?" he tilts his head at you. That same, cocky grin that turns your heart to mush.
Jesus. He really needs to stop doing that.
You look back down at the menu, "I don't know. I don't eat out much."
"Then let me be your official guide," he says it with a wink, and you can't help the chuckle that bursts out of your mouth.
As per Kuroo's recommendation, you decide to opt for a seafood pasta while your host decides on a pizza to share. The food comes right as you're halfway through your glass of wine and by then you're comfortable enough that the conversation seems to flow easily, gathered in a cocoon where only you and Kuroo exist and where everything -- even reality -- seems to fall away piece by piece.
Oh god. You're already in a bit too deep.
And the fact is, it's not even that hard to fall for Kuroo. Because he's just so nice and kind and gentle and everything that you've ever really wanted in a man. He's bashful in a way that reminds you of a pop in need of attention, careful with the way he handles your feelings, and seems forever wanting to please. And maybe that's something most girls would find off-putting given the fact that mysterious men are all the rage nowadays.
But you're not like most girls. You like this golden retriever energy coming off him. You love that he asks for your opinion and is as soft as a marshmallow on the inside.
You also love how he talks to Sakura. Not just because she's your daughter. But it had been clear from the very beginning that your daughter was a little bit in love with him.
By the end of the dinner you're not surprised to find that your leg is brushing against his casually, comfortably, as though you've been friends forever. And when you catch his golden flecked eyes from across the table, the twinkle of fire in them, the small sprinkles of molten golden mixed into warm maroon does something to your heart.
He fights to pay the bill like a true gentleman, but then splits it with you when you throw him a scowl and protest that he's done more than his fair share.
"I just wanna tell you I'm not happy about this," he grumbles as you are handing the waiter the rest of the cash for the night, slipping on his jacket with his bottom lip jutted out like a child, "I will take you out properly one day."
"Then I'm going to look forward to it," you tease.
Kuroo looks down at you, "you--you mean that right?"
"What?" you glance at him, noting the uneasiness, the surprise on his face, "that you can take me out again? Or...did you--I mean, I won't mind if you don't--"
"I don't mind one bit," he breathes and your chest exhales in relief. Gods, you thought he was going to tell you there was to be no next time.
Because again, who wants to be tied down to a single mother with a four year old toddler? Most of your tinder dates would've already blanched and snuck out of your date by now.
"I'll take you home," Kuroo is already going to unlock his car door, but your hesitation makes him falter as he takes in your hesitation, "what is it?"
"Uhm--well, Atsumu is there tonight. He's babysitting Sakura," you send him a sheepish smile, "Unless you don't mind going back there, but I--I thought we could maybe ...spend some more time alone...together?"
Heat is spewing across your cheeks by the end of your sentence, but the fond look that Kuroo gives you doesn't go by unnoticed as he cracks a grin.
"Sounds good to me," he gestures for you to get in, "wanna go get some ice cream then? Or a drink?"
That is how you find yourself sharing a couch with the sports coach, nursing a cucumber cocktail in your hand while he has a beer in his. You tease him about drinking when he's supposed to be the definition of health, and he answers that you're supposed to keep this little secret under wraps.
"I wasn't allowed to drink at all, until I left my volleyball team," Kuroo mentions then as he takes a swig of his drink.
"That sounds like a lot of sacrifice, especially for you."
"What does that mean?" he teases with a grin.
"While other boys are out there raving, experimenting with stuff," you answer and tilt your head towards him, "didn't you get jealous of what they could do and what you couldn't?"
"I suppose to an extent," he shift his legs and it brushes against your thigh, shoulders pressing to yours as warmth suddenly seeps into your right side, "but I had a lot to gain. So I never thought I missed out. Plus, all my good friends were on the team. So we suffered together if that made sense."
"Yeah," you smile at the thought of Atsumu and Osamu being deprived of house parties and clubbing when you were all younger, "it does. Actually, I was quite envious of Atsumu and Osamu when we were younger. They both knew what they wanted -- well, until Osamu decided to quit and become a chef."
"What did you want to be when you were younger?"
"Me?" your lips curled into that same crooked smile that caught Kuroo's heart into a mid-spin every single frickin' time. He knows how to breathe, just forgets to whenever you're around, "I wanted to have my own cake shop. Got the diploma, never got round to actually doing anything about it."
"How did you end up in the event planning business?"
So you tell him. About one of your neighbours asking you if you could help decorate their son's first birthday party. You didn't have the heart to say no and from there onwards, your clientele grew over the months. At some point, you'd realised this job could make ends meet, all while giving you some flexibility around Sakura's schedule.
Your diploma was stuffed at the back of a drawer at some point, forgotten and useless. You'd never gotten around to framing it.
Now, you wished you had. It brings back a bitter wave of memories, ones that are tied to Aoi and that echo with pain whenever you think for too long.
"I could start all over again but--" you think of Sakura and her sweet, smiling face. The way the light would bounce over her eyes whenever she looks up at you full of trust and honest love, "I don't think I can. I'm a bit past my prime."
Kuroo shakes his head, "okay, hear me out but--right before all this PE coach thing came my way, I was actually just a waiter."
You blink, "huh?"
"Yeah. I quit the team a few years back right after I left university, and for someone with a degree in Education and with no experience, jobs are hard to find these days," Kuroo chuckles as he takes another swig of his drink, "so I had to find part-time work while I waited. It took a few years and well-- I landed my first job just a year ago. Quit when I realised the environment was shit, and then here I am now," he lifts his shoulders in a half-shrug, "what I mean is--I don't think there's ever any real timeline for anyone. You just--do the best you can, with what you have. And if you gotta start at thirty, then that's fine too."
The bittersweet smile that fills your face is enough to render him breathless, "thanks Kuroo," you murmur softly, "I'm not sure I'm as brave as you though."
"uh--No, you're managing a four-year old by yourself," he sends you a pointed look, "that in itself is an act of courage. Not everyone can do it, especially the way you do it."
Your cheeks flame, "you flatter me--"
"But I'm not," he interrupts gently. His hand lifts up, pushing a stray strand of hair from your face and your breath hitches when his touch seems to linger there for a beat longer than he's supposed to, "I actually really do think you're like one of the bravest people I've met."
"Stop it," now you're really embarrassed, hands coming up to hide your face.
Kuroo lets out a soft laugh, "I'm just telling the truth."
"Or you're just sweet-talking me."
"Okay maybe I am, but I'm not a liar," is it your imagination that makes you believe there's a little blush scattered along his cheeks? Maybe. But you tempt yourself into believing that's your effect on him.
Kuroo looks away, though he has a smile on his face as he toys with his beer, "so did it work?" he asks.
"What?" you finish the cocktail. The alcohol stings as it slides down your throat, before it warms you up from the inside.
"The sweet-talking," and he's back with that grin of his, dashingly courageous, dashingly cute and he knows it.
You whack him playfully along his shoulder, "you're an idiot."
Kuroo mutters something that might've not reached out ears if you weren't paying attention. But you swear that he says something along the lines of "only for you" which has you blushing down to the tips of your toes all over again.
It's past two in the morning when you manage to reach your flat, now a little tipsy from all the alcohol humming through your veins. You're both laughing about something -- something stupid -- when the door to your flat flies open to reveal a grinning Atsumu.
You straighten, though wobbling in your heels. Kuroo presses a hand to your back, grounding you.
"Hey 'tsumu," you say breathlessly, feeling heat sting your spine spreading from Kuroo's fingertips.
"Well someone's tipsy," Atsumu tips his head towards the raven-haired man, "hope you didn't do anything stupid--"
"Who do you take me for?" Kuroo retorts as he prods you towards the entrance.
"Yeah I know, just checkin'," your cousin eyes the proximity of your bodies, the way Kuroo stands almost protectively behind you, and something in his eyes softens, "alright then. I'll take my leave."
"What? This late? Why don't you stay over--"
"And what?" Atsumu raises a brow at you, "watch you both suck face? No thanks. By the way," his grin widens when you turn beetroot and Kuroo almost strangles himself with surprise, "Sakura's already asleep, so no matter what, don't go wakin' her."
"I'm so sorry," you whisper out to your date when your cousin's out of earshot and Kuroo's managed to manoeuvre you into the flat, "he's not usually that annoying--"
"I know," Kuroo's lips twitch in amusement at the way you worriedly look up at him, "what? What's gotten you looking like someone ran over your pet cat?"
You gasp, "that's not nice, Kuroo sensei!"
"Kuroo," he emphasises his name. One arm going up to press against the doorframe, he leans in towards you, "actually--you can call me Tetsurou."
"Tetsurou," your head cranes up to look at him and --wow, he's tall. And he smells good. Like boy perfume and something woody, something musky you can't quite place, "That's a nice name."
"Thanks," his words trail off, body unconsciously leaning towards you. it's only then you realise how close you are, chests almost touching, noses bare millimetres, his entire frame practically engulfing your tiny one.
He's so close that you can see the way light bounces off his orbs, or the small wrinkles at the corner of his eyes that deepen whenever he smiles.
Something in your chest tightens. You swallow thickly.
And that's when you feel it; his hand skimming your waist.
You let out a sharp breath at the same time that the young man pulls you to him. Gently.
Falling against him like a puppet, hands splay out to press against his shirt and heat permeates your skin and makes you sweat because--Kuroo is ripped. You can feel it, feel him, underneath your palms. He's built like stone and you wonder briefly what he must look like without them--
Oh god.
Your face flames and that doesn't go unnoticed by the raven-haired man. He grins wickedly, his other hand reaching out to cup your jaw so that you cannot look away.
"What?" his murmur is soft like melted chocolate. It makes you weak in the knees and you're glad he's holding you up against him, "what's with the face?"
"N--Nothing," you try to steady your racing heart, "uhm...you're..." he's unconsciously leaning in towards you, as if drawn like a moth to a flame, "...you're really close."
"Seems like it," he murmurs huskily.
"I--uhm--" you shake your head slightly, biting down onto your lower lip as your eyes flutter back up to his. You notice how his pupils have darkened with something else, something that makes your stomach knot deliciously, "Kuroo?"
"Hm?"
"I'm--" you try to scramble your thoughts together, but it's hard when he's so close and when he's looking at you like that, "I'm too old for you."
His body stills, "what?"
"I'm--" shame fills you up and you look away with embarrassment as you repeat, "I'm too old for you."
"Do you really think that you're too old for me?" Kuroo asks, "or is that just an excuse?"
"I have a daughter--"
"--It's only three years' difference--"
"--And you have your whole life ahead of you to figure out what you wa--"
"--I know exactly what I want--"
"I have responsibilities and I can't--"
"Can't what?" with one tug, you fall against him. You let out a sound of shock but Kuroo's hand is insistent as he presses your spine to his body, his palm splaying out and practically enveloping all of your back, "I have responsibilities too, Kosuke-san. And yet," his eyes seem to search yours for a minute, "I can't seem to stay away."
"Like I said," you're not quite sure whether he can even hear you, because your heart seems to be galloping so hard you feel it vibrate through your ears, "I'm too old for you, you should find someone of your own age, someone who's just as ambitious, with no strings attached to them--"
"I want you."
"--and like I said, I'm a mother," you're babbling now, "and I need to put Sakura first, no matter what. I'm sorry, I don't know why I decided to come out today. I shouldn't have, this is a mistake and--"
Kuroo's hand slips to your cheek. He tugs you up, and his lips land on yours.
You freeze.
Oh.
Oh shit.
Oh shit shit shit.
Shit.
This isn't happening.
This isn't supposed to happen!
And yet...it is.
His mouth parts slowly, sliding over yours in such a sweet way that you let out a restrained sound from the back of your throat. Gods, even his mouth is delicious. His hand sifts through your locks to tangle in your hair, pulling you closer by the waist as he kisses your next breath away. Your chest stutters and you all but melt into him, surprise and shock overrun by the sudden desire shooting through your veins.
Your hands, initially at his chest, make a grab for his shirt as your lips follow his in a dance that leaves your heart stuttering and has you gasping for breath. But still Kuroo doesn't relent. He kisses you again and again and again, mouth weaving between yours and teeth nipping at your lips like he knows exactly what you want. A soft whimper bubbles up your throat and he grunts in satisfaction, tugging your hair down and tilting your head back to ravage your lips like there's no tomorrow.
You part after what seems like forever, a small gasp falling from your lips. But Kuroo's slides against your jaw, "god Y/N," he groans out, nipping at the skin along your jawline before slowly pressing butterfly kisses along your neck. You jolt at the suddenness of the action, mouth parting as heat bubbles up in your lower stomach while the young man presses you even closer if that's possible so that you feel every single inch of him against you.
A surprised yelp echoes out of your throat when he finds a sweet spot at the junction between your neck and collarbone. Kuroo smirks against your skin, nipping the area gently with his teeth as your hands trickle up to entangle in his locks, grabbing at them and making him grunt.
The hand along your waist flutters up your spine like a caress and you fold like leaf with the softest whine. Kuroo moves up to claim your mouth once more, kissing the rest of your logic away until you forget why you're here in the first place.
It's not until he's pressing you up against the doorframe that reality crashes back into you. You push him away gently, so gently that your mouths part with a soft sound and as you gaze up at him with heavy-lidded eyes, your heart jumps at the way he's looking at you; desire and tenderness and affection and lust all mixed in together. His chest is heaving just as much as yours is, and when you bite down onto your lower lip the growl that rumbles through his chest makes you all weak in the knees.
"That mouth," he mutters, thumb unconsciously going up to trace your lower lip. He pulls it away from your teeth so that he can trace its outline.
And then he's back to kissing you like he never stopped.
You kiss back with just as much ardour, getting lost into him and for once not caring that all sense of logic and self-restraint are now gone, evicted by the pure selfish need to have him close, closer.
His hands are everywhere; on your hips, in your hair, tracing your abdomen and making you gasp with every searing, scalding touch of palms against skin. But you press closer still, your own hands roaming his back and feeling up all the muscles that tense under your touch.
Kuroo suddenly draws away so quickly that you can't help but whine and tug him closer.
He resists with a groan, nose brushing yours as he furrows his brows, "Kosuke-san, I really cannot."
"What?" you're half-way out of focus at this point, more interested in kissing the soft skin at his jaw.
Kuroo lets out a sound between a moan and a grunt, making your insides twist with desire as his hands find your hips to pull you away, "If we continue, I won't--I don't promise I'll be able to hold back so--" he breathes out raggedly, "for the sake of my own sanity, we--we need to stop."
"Oh," you blink. It takes a moment for the words to make sense. When they do, your eyes widen on their own accord and you push him away, embarrassment flooding through you, "I--Oh, I'm sorry--"
Kuroo drops a firm kiss onto your mouth, grunting in satisfaction when you make a surprised sound, "I told you," he murmurs against your lips, "to stop saying sorry. It's gonna be the death of me."
He finally draws away and pushes your stray strands away from your face, a force of habit, it seems. Your eyes flutter up to meet his, flushing at the gentleness lying in those beautiful pupils. Throughout your relationship with Aoi, you're not sure he's ever looked at you with as much intensity as Kuroo has for the past five minutes. It does something funny to your heart.
"Right," for someone who'd been previously so adamant on not making out with the said man, you're quite frazzled. Your hands are latching onto him like you're a baby koala and he's your tree trunk, and you slide them down to your sides like a shameful kid, "yeah, I--" but you quickly retract the apology in your mouth.
Kuroo grins crookedly, that smile sending your heart into spinning cartwheels, "I'll be off then," he murmurs. His hand smoothes over the back of your head affectionately, and he leans in to press a chaste kiss to your temple.
"How far away do you live?" you have to ask. You feel bad for making him drive all the way out here, it's practically morning at this point.
"Not far," Kuroo sends you a comforting smile, "don't worry, I'll text you when I reach--"
"Do you--" the words blurt out of your mouth before you can stop them, "--do you want to stay over?"
Kuroo blinks. His mouth parts. Closes. Parts again. And then, what seems like a blush litters his cheeks.
He shakes his head, "ah--I think that's a bad idea Kosuke-san--" he spares a glance at your lips, "--especially today."
"Oh," realisation dawns and you flush, "right. Okay. Okay then."
"Don't worry. We have all our time," he grins cheekily.
"I'm still too old for y--"
Kuroo interrupts you with a kiss, "enough of that," he murmurs, "or I'm gonna have to kiss you again."
"That sounds--" your nose brushes against his, "--promising."
"Don't tempt me," he presses one last kiss right above your eye, cups your face for an instant, before he turns away towards the corridor, "goodnight Kosuke-san."
"Goodnight Kuroo," your heart melts, "can you--can you text me when you're home?"
He sends you a grin over his shoulder, "I thought you said you were too old for me?"
"I am too old for you," your face is so red you feel like you could cook an egg on top of it.
"Nah, never," he winks and before you know it, he's gone.
Leaving you and your poor, stuttering heart.
#kuroo#kuroo tetsurou#kuroo x reader#kuroo headcanons#haikyuu kuroo#kuroo scenarios#kuroo tetsuro x reader#kuroo testuro#haikyuu#kenma#sakusa#hq art#kuroo x you#kuroo fluff#kuroo x y/n#haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu fluff#incorrect haikyuu quotes#hinata shoyo#haikyuu x y/n#haikyuu x you#haikyuu angst#haikyuu fanfiction#haikyuu scenario#hq fanfic#hq imagine
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soju kisses | s.hinata
pairing: hinata shoyo x gn!reader | sfw | cw: alcohol, kinda suggestive, drunkenly kissing | genre: fluff | wc: 773 | masterlist
synopsis -> shoyo loves parties— and you.
HINATA SHOYO loves parties. The hum of conversation, the burning sensation of a shot sliding down his throat, the pulsing bass of music— it’s heaven sent. He’s in his element at gatherings like this, when everyone’s inhibitions are lowered from the openness that alcohol promotes.
What he loves most about parties, though—is having you as his plus one.
Right now, he’s engaged in an animated conversation with friends, chatting about a training regime his coach has him on. Heart swelling with joy from the easy-going laughter that surrounds him, he freezes mid-sentence when he hears a familiar voice call out from across the room.
“Shoooo,” You whine, and the noise from the party fades into the distant background at the sound of your tone, melodious and siren-like.
He turns, and is captured by the sight of your lips puffing into a cute little pout that he hardly gets to see.
“C’mere. Wanna kiss you,” You call out, and his body moves on its own.
Smiling brightly, he bids his friends a quick goodbye before hopping off the stool and bounding over to where you’re waiting with your arms spread expectantly. Ignoring the howls and teases from people in the background, he pulls you into a big hug, smooshing your face against him, “I’m here!”
Grinning, you paw at his chest with hearts in your eyes, and it makes his face heat up. You look at him like he’s the only person in the world. He’ll never get used to having your attention. Never.
“You’re soooo cute!” You squeal, pinching his cheek with the one hand that isn’t on him and giggling. Your speech is slurred and it fills him with a sense of endearment, “I loveeee you.”
“I— mmph love you too,” He laughs, voice impaired from your doting behavior. When you get like this, he feels fluttery inside. You awaken something in him, it’s as pure as it is primal.
“Can I have a kiss?” You beg, and he can smell the remnants of strawberry soju on your breath. Its pungent scent mixed with sweet wafts of your fragrance flood his scenes and overwhelm him with a sense of possessiveness.
“You can always have one,” He grins, leaning into you and pressing your lips together. It starts soft but soon turns fervent and hungry. He deepens the kiss and drinks you in like he’s been deprived. You squeal and push against him, the weight of your body as comforting as it is enthralling.
Shoyo wonders how he’d ever gone without your love when everything is so much brighter with you around. He moves his hands to cradle your face, holding you tightly so you can stay with him forever.
When you first met each other, he was immediately enamored by you. It almost makes him laugh when he thinks about when he finally gained the courage to ask you out. Anxious and embarrassingly eager, he remembers stuttering through a hurried confession, anticipating rejection.
And now, here you are, in his arms, kissing him like you are undoubtedly and irrevocably his.
It’s only when you gasp for air that he has half the mind to pull away. Your chest heaves as you touch your forehead to his, smiling at him crookedly. His lips hover against yours, silently asking for more.
“Another one?” He murmurs, his breath mixing with yours. Unconsciously, he realizes his hand has snaked down to your thigh, and his finger traces your plush skin impatiently. You shiver at the feeling, and he feels a twisted sense of satisfaction at your reaction. He loves how breathless you get around him; how hard you try to keep up with his unrelenting and demanding personality. Maybe it’s unfair— to need you as much as he does— but he can’t help himself. Not when it’s you.
You giggle, and a rush of adrenaline crashes over him.
“You’re so greedy, Sho,” You tease, and he smiles because he knows it’s true.
Humming, he lets his hands wander, staking claim over you because he is yours and you are his. He revels in the feeling of you, the party long forgotten.
“Greedy?” He echoes.
You nod, “The most.”
Shrugging, his eyes flicker to your lips. They’re swollen and inviting and he can’t control the sudden impulse to press his mouth against yours again. The taste of the alcohol you've consumed sends him in a trance.
When he pulls away, you whine. Wanting more. He chuckles and brushes his thumb against you. When he sees your gaze, doe-eyed and expectant, something twists in his chest.
He may be greedy— but it’s only because you make him so.
—a/n: i love hinata and soju. shoutout iris for being a beta reader :3 @cherrysurf ily iris
#hinata shoyo#hinata shoyo x reader#hinata shoyo fluff#hinata shoyo x you#hinata shoyo x y/n#haikyuu#Haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#haikyuu x y/n#hq#hq fluff#hq x reader#hq x you#hq x y/n#fluff#hinata fluff#hinata x reader#hinata x you#hinata x y/n#shoyo x reader#shoyo x y/n#shoyo x you#shoyo fluff
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atsumu x reader; cw spoilers for the vow (movie) i guess
"how do you look at the girl you love and tell yourself it's time to walk away?"
channing tatum's voice echoes from your laptop. it was movie night and this week's choice was 'the vow'.
it was different from your usual rom com or dramedy, the go tos, but atsumu had insisted he heard this movie was akin to gold. what better love story was there than learning how to fall in love all over again?
but as your heart tugged against your chest at the scene unfolding before you, the screen freezes with the pause symbol before it can end.
"do you need more popcorn? we were getting to the good part. why'd you pause the movie?" you ask, turning to your boyfriend whose eyebrows had drawn together in confusion. "what's the matter?"
atsumu shook his head. "i don't get it."
"what don't you get?"
he turns to you, and you're a little taken aback by the seriousness he displays. because despite what everyone thinks, your boyfriend isn't an idiot; he's not just brash humor and unprompted confidence. maybe it's because he's an athlete that they think that, but atsumu has always been so much more.
he's the type of guy who grumbles about being woken up for your midnight cravings but drives you down to whatever fast food chain. he's the type of guy who guards sharp corners with his hand so you don't hurt yourself accidentally. he's the type of guy who ties your shoelaces without you having to ask and loves so easily you forget it was ever difficult.
"how do you not remember the love of your life? even with amnesia . . ." atsumu is annoyed. you can tell even before you smooth away the lines that form on his face from frustration.
"well, it's just a movie," you try. "and she has amnesia. it's not by choice."
"i would never forget you," he says, or rather, he declares it. "even if i got into a horrible accident or when get old and i lose all my memories, i would never forget you."
you're quiet and he takes it as a sign to continue, "because of my hands."
"your hands?"
he nods. "all you'd have to do is put yours in mine like this," atsumu reaches for you, holding your hand against his (measuring them in comparison and memorizing them) before intertwining his fingers with yours. "and i'd know. we fit like puzzle pieces because everything just feels right with you."
the movie is forgotten as your heart stutters, and you realize—again and all at once—that you love atsumu. you love him with as much of you there is. but in this world of too many people and lost time and missed opportunities, thankfully he loved you too.
how lucky were you?
shitty ending sorry! atsumu in love got overwhelming and this is all i could get out
#atsumu x reader#atsumu x you#atsumu x y/n#atsumu headcanons#atsumu drabbles#atsumu fanfic#atsumu fluff#haikyuu blurbs#haikyuu drabbles#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x y/n#haikyuu x you#haikyuu fanfiction#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu fluff
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The Best Medicine
Kageyama Tobio x reader - 1k words
Your daughter is sick. Kageyama stays home with her.
Reader is referred to as "mommy"
"She'll be fine," Tobio assures you. "I'll be here with her all day."
"I know," You sigh. Ever since you left work early yesterday to pick your daughter up from daycare, you've been fussing over her. It's just a fever and a cough, something that the doctor assured you will go away on its own with some medicine and time, but you can't help but worry just a little. It makes sense for Tobio to stay with her today - it's the off season, and he doesn't have any training scheduled. You're the one in the middle of a big project at work.
"I just gave her more medicine," You continue as you gather your things for work, "And it should keep her knocked out for a bit. The rest is good for her." You're saying it as much for yourself as for Tobio's benefit. He nods along anyway. "Just remember to have her eat a little something when she takes the next dose," You add as you pull on your coat.
"I will. Don't worry," He says more firmly, gripping your shoulders and looking you in the eye, forcing you to stop moving for just a moment. "We'll be just fine here. If anything comes up, I'll give you a call right away."
"Okay." You manage a smile. "Thanks, Tobio."
"Of course. I love you," He leans in for a peck before he releases you.
"I love you too," You reply on your way out the door, "I'll see you later."
With that, you're gone, and Tobio turns back into the quiet house. He doesn't have much lined up for the morning, he just starts a load of laundry and then settles on the couch with a replay of a recent match on the quietest setting. He takes a few notes every now and then.
Eventually, lunch time draws near. After heating up a quick meal for himself, he's slotting his few dishes in the dishwasher when he hears the call.
"Mommy!" Your daughter whimpers, and he closes the dishwasher, making his way to her room before she has a chance to call out again. It's just about time for her next round of medicine, anyway.
"Hi, baby," He says gently, brushing sweaty strands of hair away from her forehead. She's still warm, but the fever has definitely gone down.
"Want Mommy," She insists, her lower lip jutting out in a pout.
"Mommy's at work," He reminds her. You'd said goodbye to her this morning right before you left. "She'll be home later." She doesn't look pleased, but she doesn't say another word. "Are you a little hungry?" He asks, changing the subject.
"No," She shakes her head.
"Not even for some applesauce?" He asks as he gently tugs the blanket off of her. "It will help the medicine make you all better."
She hesitates for a moment. "Kay," She agrees quietly. He picks her up, carrying her to the kitchen. If she weren't sick, she would have scrambled out of bed and darted down the hallway on her own. It's clear she's still not feeling like herself.
After the snack of applesauce and dose of medicine, he lifts her to his hip again, prepared to tuck her back in bed. Her eyes are already drooping. In her room, he moves to lay her back down on the pillow, but she clings to his neck.
"No, Daddy," She whimpers into his chest.
"I'll read you a story," He suggests, settling down on the edge of the bed with her still in his arms.
"Don't wanna story." She shakes her head, scrubbing a fist at her eye. "Wanna watch TV."
He sighs and softens. "Okay," He agrees. In the living room, he puts on one of her favorite shows. He moves to set her down on the couch, but she clings to him again.
"No," She shakes her head.
"No?" He echoes, then settles her on his lap. "Alright." If she wants to stay close to him so badly, how can he say no to that? She leans against him, soft and warm in his arms, entranced by the colorful animations on the screen and clutching her bunny.
The older she gets, the less interested she has become in sitting still and cuddling. It seems she's always on the move, running around and playing. It isn't often that he gets to just hold her like this.
His eyes wander from the screen down to her, eyes drooping again as she slips her thumb in her mouth. Just this once, he decides to let it slide. She's getting so big. Sometimes he doesn't even realize how quickly. Soon enough she'll be off to school, maybe joining sports or the band, spending time with all of the new friends she'll make. She won't be his little girl who fits in his arms like this forever - he should savor this moment.
Time blurs by as he holds her, half-paying attention to the show as one short episode turns to another, half-dozing himself. He doesn't even realize how long it's been until he hears the door open.
"I'm home!" You say as you step inside. It isn't long before you find them in the living room, your daughter cradled against Tobio's chest. He smiles at you, and your daughter stirs against him, woken by the slight commotion.
"Hi my love," You coo at her, "How are you feeling?" She only hums in response, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Why don't we let Daddy get up?" You ask, reaching for her.
"Hm-mm," She shakes her head, snaking her arms around his neck again and burying her face against him. You look at him with wide, surprised eyes, and he can only return the expression. Earlier, she'd pouted because you weren't there. He's just as taken aback.
"Well," Your expression softens as you whisper, "I guess you had a good day with Daddy then." You lean in to kiss him, and he returns it. "How long have you been sitting here?" You ask.
"A few hours," He estimates, "But I don't mind." He presses a kiss to the top of her head. "She'll be begging for you before you know it," He predicts, and you shake your head with a smile. You both know he's right. For now, if snuggles with Daddy are what she wants, how can you deny her?
#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#kageyama x reader#kageyama tobio x reader#kageyama tobio#moon writes#moon writes hq
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heads up! — becoming parents (11/30)
kuroo’s got his priorities straight: make the battle at the garbage dump happen, win nationals, go to university, and maybe win the heart of the rival team’s cute manager along the way.
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dilf december
day twenty-two ⭑ kotaro bokuto ⭑ snow man!
tw: fluff, reader gets picked up, slight flashing & age gap
bokuto was terrible at maths.
so it was only natural that he would need to hire a tutor for his kids as soon as they progressed past bokuto's level of numeric ability and he could no longer help them with their homework or topics they were struggling in. hence, as soon as they returned home with worksheets about fractions, he immediately went online to find a private tutor.
however, he went on a website that had pictures of the tutors alongside their names and qualifications, meaning that he inadvertently treated his search more like a dating site than a recruitment process. that is how, despite being able to afford a tutor with a phd in maths and a masters in education, he chose you — a struggling college student who charges prices on the lower end of the scale, since you had yet to attain a teaching degree.
he couldn't have made a better decision though! by now, he had hired you for around a year, thus he has gotten to know you quite well and he can tell you work exceptionally with his children — you teach them in a way that is both comprehensive and engaging, and their grades have seen a massive improvement because of you. he couldn't be more grateful.
today it was a cold winter afternoon, and you had just finished up a lesson with his children. bokuto doesn't like to hover during the sessions but he wants to stay nearby in case you need something, so he was currently in an adjacent room and is able to overhear you say your goodbyes to the kids, as well as them packing up their textbooks and scampering off to their rooms.
he peers into the room, seeing you at the dining table, packing up your equitment. you notice him, so he offers you a bright smile, "how'd it go?" he asks.
"good." you chirp, slipping your laptop and pens neatly into your backpack, "we're working on geometry right now. they both seem to understand area, so we will work on volume next week."
bokuto has no clue what any of those words mean — he may have if you asked him 20 years ago, but not anymore — he's just glad to hear that his children aren't struggling. "volume, already?! woah, i've got a pair of little genius' in my house!" he joked, crossing his arms over his chest and walking towards the window, "that's all thanks to you, though. i'll tell them to mention you in their speeches when they accept the noble prize."
you laughed with him, and there is a little flutter in your stomach as passes you, and you not only catch the lingering scent of his fresh cologne, but you also get a peek of his muscular back — you were aware that he was a retired volleyball player, but it still astounded you how he was able to remain in such an impressive shape. it was so tempting; all you could think about when he was in the room was how much you'd like to be squished between his biceps.
while he talks away, he peers out the window that overlooks the driveway, and frowns. one of the cons of owning such a large house is that it comes with an equally massive driveway, which you always insist to park at the bottom of because you don't want to 'intrude on their space', even though bokuto has assured you several times that you're welcome to park where ever you like and parking closer would surely be more convenient for you. however, he's unaware that the real reason you continue parking so far away from the house is that you don't want to park near the rest of his expensive cars and risk damaging one of them, but you keep this secret to yourself as you don't want him to think you're an incompetent driver.
anyway, during the two hour session you had just completed with his children, it has been raining, and although it had ceased by now, the cold weather in tandem with the damp ground has rendered his entire driveway an icy slipping-hazard! to get to one of his cars could be feasible, but your car was quite a distance away, which would be a very perilous journey.
"the ground outside looks so icy.." he muses, and you shuffle up behind him, peering out the window over his shoulder.
"yeah.." you mumble, staring worriedly down at your uggs had barely any grip on the sole, indicating that you had a better chance at successfully ice-skating back to your car than walking. of course, you didn't want to complain in front of bokuto, so you said, "i'll be fine. a little fall never hurt anyone."
you make the comment with a tinge of amusement and banter in your voice, but bokuto just stares at you in horror, until he refutes with, "you could get really hurt, (y/n) and we don't want that." his parenting instincts kick-in as he explains to you the potential danger and gravity of the situation. as he does so, he guides you to the foyer, where there is a rack of shoes, and he picks up a thick pair of boots on the top shelf, "i bought these ice shoes online. they are supposed to stop you from slipping on the ice."
you nod, about to open your mouth to say 'thank you', but you catch yourself just in time, as — instead of handing them to you, like you expected — bokuto hastily straps the shoes on himself. shocked by this decision, you stagger, "oh, so are you going to walk out to my car and drive it closer?"
you stumble out the first possible idea that comes to your mind, even though it wasn't especially well thought-out. bokuto scoffs as he continues to properly fasten the ice boots, "if i did that, your car would slip and slide all over the place, no?" he asks, and though it may have sounded like a rheatorical question, bokuto was genuinely asking if he corrected predicted the outcome of that situation, which he did.
you furrow your brows, perplexed as to what course of action he planned on taking, so you finally ask, "how am i going to make it to my car if you are the one wearing the non-slip boots? shouldn't i put them on?"
he shakes his head, standing up straight and stomping each foot to ensure that he equipped the boots thoroughly, and he smiles as they remain secured to his feet. "i'll carry you!" he states merrily, like it was no big deal.
meanwhile, all the air was knocked out of your lungs at the mere thought of him carrying you. he must've quickly noticed you becoming light-headed and dissociating, as he inquires, "uh, (y/n), are you okay?"
you gulp down the lump in your throat , and it leaves a harsh sting of anxiety in its wake. "i'm fine, it's just i th—"
"okay, cool. let's go!" bokuto cheers before you are able to finish your statement, and in one swift movement, he scoops you up in his arms and effortless thrusts you straight over his shoulder, so your legs are dangling by his front and your upper body was against his back.
however, not only was this position causing all the blood to rush to your head, but also you were bend over while in a skirt which you could feel had rode up slightly, while bokuto's arm securely wrapped over your thigh, preventing you from pulling it down. so, before bokuto could possibly step outside and accidently expose you to his neighbours, you roughly squirmed in his grasp and protested, "bokuto! skirt!"
that was all you were able to manage while vigoursly wrestling out of his grasp, but thankfully that was enough to convey the message to bokuto, and he swiftly changed your orientation, so one of his arms was now hooked under your shoulders and the other beneath your knees — carrying you bridal style. he flashed you an awkward smile, and croaked, "my bad!"
"it's fine.." you mutter, subtly adjusting your skirt to protect your modesty.
"ready to go?" he asks, giving your shoulders a slight squeeze for emphasis.
"i guess so."
he nods. even with you in his arms, he is still able to extend his arms forward and pull the door open, and shut it behind him. then, slowly but surely, he begins to make his way down to your car. slowly but surely, one step at a time, making sure every movement is precise and calculated, without any rush.
your heart was beating a hole in your chest. you still couldn't fully process the fact you were being carried like a princess to your car by the dad of the kids you tutor. truthfully, you've always had quite a thing for the older bachelor, and you suspected he had similar feelings towards you, but considering the age difference, you always assumed that your relationship would never exceed mild flirtatious comment and chatter.
yet here you were; tucked safely in his strong arms as he carries you like a precious, weightless artifact down his driveway.
bokuto must've misread the excitment on your face for fear, as he chuckles, "you look so scared, (y/n). think i'm gonna trip or something?" he gazes down at you with his cheerful, honey eyes. when you reciprocate his comment with only a terrified look, he continues, "don't be. i won't let anything bad happen to you." and what made you're heart melt for him is that you could tell he was being sincere; with every slow, laboured movement, and the way his eyes were glued to the path in front him, you could tell he was diligently trying to keep you safe.
you still didn't respond, and the journey wasn't getting any quicker, so he attempts to make casual conversation, "this reminds me of my second wedding."
"second?" you ask in shock, under the impression he had only been married once.
"yeah, second wedding." he muses, recollecting of the events of the night, "she wanted me to carry her down the aisle to the carriage that was going to take us to the hotel, but we got married in the alps on a very snowy day, so that took a while."
"oh." you hum, entertained by his story but discontented that he didn't mention anything about the fact he had been married a second time, "did you book your wedding on a snowy day on purpose?"
"no, but it was fun anyway."
"that's good." you mumble, and since it was your turn to make idle coversation, you ask, "do think you'll have your third wedding while it's snowing too?"
he furrows his brows together in concentration, and recollects, "hm, no. my third wedding was on the beach."
was?! surely you must've misheard him, or maybe he just mispoke. there was no way he had been married three times. you wrack your brain for a way to ask for clairfication without seeming too overt or nosey, eventually staggering out, "so, where will your fourth wedding be?"
he blinks, then responds, "i don't know. but i know it will be my last one, and i'll have the most beautiful bride." his eyes momentarily avert from the icey pavement in front of him, only so he can meet your longing gaze. the moment is fleeting, before he returns to carefully trudging over the ice, but it fills you with an immense warm and comfort. something about resting in bokuto's arms and him looking at you with such a sweet glint in his eye was so wholesome, and it made you want to stay in this exact position forever.
therefore, you were almost disappointed when he finally reached the car, "we're here." he states gleefully, shooting you a playful wink as he says, "told you i'd get you here safe and sound, didn't i?" then, with great care, he slowly lowers your legs to the ground and gently places you down, keep a hold of your waist in case you fall over while finding your balance.
your hand finds it way to his bicep as you stable yourself, and you say, "thank you so much; you really didn't have to do all that for me."
"of course i did. i wasn't going to let you get hurt in my driveway." he shakes his head definitively, "it's not like it was hard, anyway. i might start carrying you into the house as well. would ya like that?"
he teases, and he can tell your answer from the way you tense up in hands.
#bokuto koutarou#bokuto x reader#bokuto x you#bokuto fluff#bokuto koutaro x reader#bokuto x y/n#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x y/n#haikyuu x you#👾fluff#dilf⭑december
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EGGNOG & MISTLETOE
happy holidays @nowoyas i’m your secret santa and this is for you <3 part of the hq x reader secret santa organized by @lale-txt
tags/warnings: nishinoya x gn reader, holiday party, mentions of alcohol, jealousy
word count: 1.1k
Nishinoya’s stomach is churning. He keeps telling himself it’s because of the rum-spiked eggnog Tanaka insisted he drink, and not because of the way you’re looking at Kuroo Tetsuro.
He came to this party for you, put on this itchy holiday sweater for you, and he’s really trying not to be upset over the fact that he’s not here with you. That instead of you staying glued to his side all night, you’re smiling eagerly as Kuroo regales you with tales of his fancy office job, or whatever.
And really, he knows that he shouldn’t be this jealous. He couldn’t even recall the last time you’d seen Kuroo, and it’s not like you ever talk about him, so he shouldn’t have anything to worry about, if he’s been honest with himself. But it just irks him, seeing you smile at someone else like that. It should be him. That’s really all Nishinoya is able to think about as he watches the scene play out before him.
It should be him.
It gets too hot there, standing there with his spiked eggnog and his stuffy red sweater. And then, Nishinoya has to watch as you giggle at something Kuroo says, and it becomes too much. He suddenly, very desperately needs some air. He deposits the half-full cup of eggnog in the trash and makes his way towards the back of the house, sneaking out the backdoor.
What Nishinoya doesn’t see though, is how your eyes follow him. The second he breaks away from the crowd, your eyes follow him, and Kuroo becomes an after-thought.
Nishinoya opens and closes the door behind him and takes a seat on the step. It’s cold, but he appreciates it. His face is red, and his thoughts are spinning. He tries to calm them, attempting to conjure up images of anything other than you and Kuroo. But it’s not working; he squeezes his eyes shut and sees yours squinted up in a delighted smile at Kuroo’s words.
He groans. He knows he doesn’t have a right to be jealous. He knows you can talk to Kuroo all you want. Despite his wishes, you’re not his, so there’s nothing he can really say. And it sort of just feels like shit, for him.
Nishinoya’s in the middle of these agonized thoughts when the door opens and closes behind him once again. His head turns to see you, and his mouth pops open slightly in surprise. “What are you doing out here?” he asks, watching as you take a seat beside him.
You sit, the side of your thigh brushing against his. “Saw you coming out here, figured I’d join you. Why are you out here?”
He shrugs. “I just needed a breather, I guess,” he admits. And it’s true. Thirty more seconds of witnessing the scene before him and he might’ve snapped, intervened when he shouldn’t’ve.
“That doesn’t sound like you,” you remark, and he has to agree. Normally he’d be chugging that god-awful eggnog along with Tanaka and signing along horribly to some old Christmas song. Of course you’d notice. “Everything alright?”
“Yeah,” Nishinoya says. “Just thinking. It’s hot in there, so the cold’s nice.”
“Hmm,” you muse, rubbing your hands together. Nishinoya watches them, and thinks they might be cold. He has this impulse to grab them and hold them in his own. “I missed you. I feel like I haven’t gotten to see you all night.”
His heart thumps a bit harder at this. “Yeah, I know. Kuroo’s hogging you, the dick.”
You snort, and you drop your head down to rest it on his shoulder. And Nishinoya takes this a sign. He reaches over, and places one of his hands on top of yours. They’re cold to the touch, and he hopes you’ll appreciate the warmth. You guys are close, he figures, it won’t seem so out of place.
“Well, you know,” you say, eyes dropping to your hands, “I’d much rather be spending my time with you, anyways.”
And at once, Nishinoya’s mood spins around, and he suddenly can’t help but puff up his chest a bit in pride. “Really?” he questions.
“Of course,” you say, pulling away your head to look him in the eye. “There’s no one else I’d rather spend my time with.”
And Nishinoya hears you, but all he can focus on is how close you are. His eyes scan over the details of your face, from the curve of your mouth to the way your eyes sparkle in the light that emits from the house. And he’s always known that he’s loved you, but he really feels it then. He feels it with his whole chest. He loves you, and he wants to kiss you. He wants it more than anything.
“Yeah,” he says, though it feels awkward coming out of his mouth. His throat feels dry, all of the sudden. “I feel the same.”
There’s a slight smile on your face that makes Nishinoya feel like there’s something erupting inside of him. He wants to kiss you. He thinks he’s going to kiss you.
And then, the door slams open behind the two of you. Nishinoya jumps.
Tanaka is standing there, body language sloppy and leaning against the door frame. “Oh, there you two are,” he slurs, obviously drunk off of his own creation. He holds up on hand, and Nishinoya’s gut drops at the sight of a bundle of mistletoe pinched between his fingers. “Been looking for you everywhere, now you gotta kiss.”
Nishinoya reaches out and swats at his shins. “Man, fuck off,” he says, though there’s no bite in his voice.
“No,” Tanaka insists. “You guys gotta kiss, those are the rules.”
You tug at Nishinoya’s hand, and he turns his head back to look at you. You lean in, and place a soft, warm kiss on his cheek. It lingers there for a second, and Nishinoya can’t help when both his jaw drops. He thinks his chest might burst.
You pull away and smile at him, before turning to Tanaka. “There, you happy?”
“Mistletoe rules have been satisfied. Now come back in, we’re doing karaoke, and I need my duet partner, man.”
Nishinoya groans, but you stand, encouraging him to follow by interlocking your fingers with him and tugging him to his feet. “C’mon,” you tell him with a soft smile, “we can talk more later.”
He follows, and delights in the way you never let go of his hand in the process. Nishinoya stares at your interlocked hands, and grins.
And later in the night, after his duet with Tanaka and several more drinks of that horrible eggnog, he finds a confused Kuroo, and proudly declares that he won.
happy holidays y'all <3
#divider credits to ioveartfilm#hq x reader secret santa 24#hq x you#haikyuu x you#haikyuu x y/n#hq x y/n#nishinoya yuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu#hq x reader#nishinoya yuu x reader#nishinoya x reader#nishinoya x you#nishinoya x y/n#hq nishinoya#nishinoya yuu x yn#nishinoya yuu x you
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𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄.
╰┈➤ 𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚊 𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞 𝚡 𝚏!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛
˚ ༘♡· ˚ ₊˚ ˑ༄ؘ “i bet you think this song is about you.”
directory. all works related to this series are listed in ascending order
warnings. (pre and post) timeskip, friends to lovers, breakup, resolved angst, mentions of marriage and kids, use of alcohol, swearing, not proofread
status. ongoing
author's note. i'm yana, and this is my first series ᐢᗜᐢ organizing this by chapter soon lol, sorry.. this will have a happy ending. thank you for reading!
headcanons
one ෆ two ෆ three
ficlet
dear valentine (fluff)
senior year (fluff, slight angst)
#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu!!#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu x you#hq imagines#hq x reader#hq fluff#hq angst#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu hcs#haikyuu angst#haikyuu smau#suna fluff#suna angst#suna x reader#suna rintaro x reader#suna rintarou#suna rintarou x reader#suna rintaro haikyuu#suna rintarō#suna rintaro x you#suna x you#suna x y/n#suna rintaro x y/n#suna headcanons#suna rintaro smau#suna rintaro imagine#miya atsumu#miya osamu
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Haikyuu Headcanons on doing homework together ༉‧₊˚.
characters: Bokuto, Akaashi, Kuroo, Asahi, Lev
tags: fluff, comfort
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ╰──╮
Bokuto ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
will always be a little late because he oversleeps and feels bad about it
tries to do homework at first, but gives up 5 minutes later
is trying to get some attention by distracting you from doing your homework, and gets upset if you don't give him any
builds towers out of pens and proudly shows them to you
puts his head down on your shoulder, and takes peaks at your notes, so he can copy them
keeps asking if you can take a break even though he hasn't done anything
randomly starts singing some lyrics
Akaashi ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
is focused on the studying, but still glances at you from time to time to make sure if you need help
explains the things you don't understand as often as you need to and stays calm
is passionate about teaching you new things and doesn't make you feel stupid
makes sure you feel comfortable, doesn't push you, and listens to you
shows acts of service by bringing you water and snacks, so you don't feel overwhelmed
usually wears glasses while studying
Kuroo ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
he finishes his homework very quickly, so he can spend the rest of the time concentrating on you
once in a while he will take away your notebook and hold it in the air, so you can't reach it
if he notices that you've made a mistake, he'll most likely comment on it in a friendly way
will play with your hair, and hug you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder, when he's bored
adores your smartness and is fascinated every time he sees you solving difficult terms
always notices small details about your outfit and compliments you on your appearance
Asahi ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
will always greet your entire family when he's in your home
your pet loves Asahi and will always jump on him and ask for cuddles
as you study, he will ask you questions about how your day went
feels a little embarrassed every time he doesn't understand something
will feel overwhelmed when you ask him for help, even if he knows the right answer
stutters a bit while explaining and apologizes for it
encourages you when you don't understand something and compares you to him to show how intelligent you are
Lev ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
get's excited to spend your time with you, even though he doesn't like studying
will sit with both of his legs on the chair and swing from side to side
is more interested in what you are doing, than what he has to do
he's very direct and will tell you about the mistakes you've made
teases you about your height out of context
loves to touch and hold your hand because of the size difference
will tell you about his new achievements in volleyball and how other team members are proud of him
asks you every five minutes if you are done
#haikyuu#hq x reader#bokuto#akaashi#kuroo#asahi#lev#hq headcanons#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu x reader#fluff#comfort#haikyuu fluff#bokuto koutarou#kuroo tetsurou#akaashi keiji#asahi azumane#lev haiba#bokuto x reader#akaashi x reader#kuroo x reader#asahi x reader#lev x reader#haikyuu scenarios#hq fluff#haikyuu x you#hq x you
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guys pls love this or i’ll cry oh my god i am 2 twisted teas a mahito and daiquiri in guys please
notes in the margins | o.miya
-> rq: established relationship scenario where the reader is a lot smarter than Osamu and tutors him
-> pairing: miya osamu x gn!reader | sfw | cw: cursing, maybe a lil ooc idk tho | genre: fluff | wc: 890 | mlist
“Damn…” Osamu huffs, twirling a pencil in his hand and staring down at the paper in front of him like if he looks at it long enough, the work will magically get done through sheer force of will. As capable of a person as he may appear, everybody has their fatal weaknesses. For Superman, it’s Kryptonite, and for your boyfriend– it’s math.
From what he’s told you, the numbers float off the page and morph into strange shapes that taunt him with their absurdity. You’ve tried to explain that the “strange shapes” are just the Greek alphabet, but he wouldn’t hear it. Though, as helpless as he may be, he is your boyfriend, so you do your best to hold him accountable through weekend study sessions. It doesn’t hurt that he has this mind-numbingly adorable quirk where he twitches his nose when deep in thought (which he often had to be in to do math).
You glance from your assignment to him in mild amusement and smile. “You good?”
“‘M good,” He mutters, but the wrinkle in his forehead and clenched jaw suggest otherwise.
You laugh softly and promptly get up to put him out of his misery. Leaning over his shoulder, you peek at his work and frown, “You’ve hardly made any progress!”
He shrugs, unapologetic, “‘S not my fault math’s borin’.” Lolling his head sideways to look at you, he yawns, “Let’s take a snack break.”
“You’ve had, like, ten snack breaks, ‘Samu.” You sigh, gently using your hand to press his gaping mouth closed.
Sometimes, when he gets like this, you remember that while he is your sweet boyfriend, he’s still a Miya— a notoriously annoying family lineage to come from. You bite back a remark about how, if he keeps going at this rate, his twin brother will end up with better grades than him.
“I’d pay much better attention with a break,” He reasons, face blank, “‘Specially if I can take one with my cute tutor.”
You feel your cheeks warm at his remark, in awe of how he can flirt so nonchalantly. “I’m being serious,” You say, patting his shoulder encouragingly. The firm feeling of the muscular ridge weighs heavy in your palm, “Just try. I’m sure you can figure it out.”
He groans, “‘S easy for ya to say ‘cause yer in the smarty-pants class. Normal folk like me gotta suffer through rememberin’ how to do all this shit.”
A rush of satisfaction at his compliment washes over you. Clearing your throat, you push the feeling aside, “You’re far from normal,” You remind him, rolling your eyes. After a beat, you add, “ And I’m only doing good in class ‘cause I pay attention. If you did the same, you’d probably retain the information.”
“Guess I need an incentive,” He says simply, leaning back in his chair, eyes boring into yours.
Averting your gaze from his piercing stare, you glance at his paper again, scoffing at the numbers on the page. Taking the pencil from his hand, you start to correct the mistakes on his homework. “You gotta check your work,” You mutter, scribbling in the margins. “How many times do I have to say that?”
He only hums in reply.
“You didn’t even finish this one!” You whine, turning to look up at him from the paper, only to find he’s been staring at you this whole time. Your faces are seemingly millimeters apart. His warm breath brushes against you and makes your heart stutter. “C’mon,” You exclaim, trying to hide your flusteredness, “You’re better than th–”
“Ya got real pretty handwriting, y’know,” he interrupts, eyes flickering down to your lips. As if that’s what matters right now.
“Are you even listening to me?” You ask pointedly, heat rising in your cheeks, stomach flipping.
“I’m listenin’,” He assures you, voice low with a hint of amusement, no doubt in response to your failed attempts at masking your current state.
You clear your throat again, trying to maintain eye contact, “I’m serious. Finish the assignment. I wrote down all the steps for you. It can’t be that hard.”
Osamu shifts in his chair, still looking at you rather intently, “We can’t all be smart like you.”
The words sink in, and it takes all of your willpower to not let the flattery get to you. Maybe if you kissed him long enough, you’d transfer your knowledge straight to his head?
“You are smart,” You tease, tilting your head at him, “Just lazy.”
“Maybe so,” He says, and you can tell, based on the way his shoulders straighten, that your attempts at faking nonchalance aren’t working anymore. You may as well be looking at him with hearts in your eyes.
You swallow. Hard.
You let the palpable tension hang in the air for a moment before you can’t take it anymore. Relenting, you give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Okay, if you finish this worksheet, maybe we can talk about an incentive.”
At the sound of your compromise and the feeling of your lips on his skin, your usually expressionless boyfriend’s lips quirk up into a subtle grin. Once you pull away, he starts to diligently work on a problem for the first time all night, ears twinged with a slight pink, “Don’t hav’ta tell me twice.”
God, you love him.
—a/n: i fear im never beating the osamu lover allegations
#icymi#this is queued#sakusa x reader#sakusa x you#sakusa x y/n#Haikyuu fluff#sakusa fluff#sakusa kiyoomi x you#sakusa kiyoomi x reader#sakus kiyoomi fluff#hq x reader#hq fluff#hq x you#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you
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