#hinata shoyo you will always be famous | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

irisintheafterglow · 3 months ago

Text

love me from your point of view

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ now playing: ariana grande - "pov"

summary: you teach sakusa kiyoomi how to love, in spite of the cameras and the gossip.

wc: 8.45k

cw/tags: pro!sakusa x rockstar!reader, fem!reader in mind but no specific pronouns used, strangers to lovers, character study, explicit language, minor injury (blood/glass tw), mentions of drinking and alcohol, angst with happy ending <3

note: this is my contribution for the lovely sel's "and there's something, this feeling" collab to celebrate one year of @seiwas ! this is the longest fic i've written to date because i tried my best to go a character-driven route that i've always admired sel for rather than my usual plot-driven route. i hope you like this and happiest of anniversaries my wonderful sel :))))

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated :) check out the rest of sel's event here!

Sakusa Kiyoomi hated cameras. Unfortunately, in his line of work, they were essentially gnats buzzing constantly around his head. They were always trying to make him do something, look here or there, pose with his shoulders angling this way or that. After the commands came the interrogations, nosy reporters sniffing around his private life for something sellable. Then there were the phone cameras and the fans behind them, and they could be a hit or miss depending on if they respected his boundaries. When he was in highschool, he could get away with avoiding socialization; but now, as a striker for one of the most famous teams in the country, socialization was a required skill.

“I’m happy you agreed to go with us, Sakusa,” Bokuto says for the fifth time since they parked at the venue in the heart of Tokyo. It was a little irritating, the way they kept thanking him for his presence like he’d back out if they didn’t continue expressing their gratitude. He couldn’t leave, even if he wanted to; Atsumu insisted on being the one behind the wheel and the car narrowly avoided a collision after Hinata said he’d missed the exit. “We know you’re still a little grumpy because of the drive, so don’t feel the need to talk to us right now.”

“Hey, if you wanted to leave so badly, you could just call a car,” Atsumu points out, “but I know you secretly like spending time with us.” Sakusa fixes his teammate with a stare that could be perceived as a grimace, but his friends know him better than that. Sakusa wasn’t angry, he was bored. It was originally Bokuto and Hinata’s idea to see some artist he didn’t listen to in concert, saying that it was ‘a once in a lifetime experience’ and that the artist hadn’t played in the country in over a decade. He was vaguely aware of some songs, mostly because his teammates cranked the speaker volume during conditioning. Still, it wasn’t his ideal Saturday night, especially before a big game. “And, guess what?”

“Holy shit, box seats!”

“We have our own bathroom!” Bokuto and Hinata’s shouts of excitement drown out the rest of Atsumu’s sentence and the security guards are barely able to open the doors as they tumble into the private section.

“Yo, Shoyo. Be careful of that railing or you’ll fall into the general audience,” Atsumu warns while Hinata willfully ignores him, staring out over the crowds slowly filing into their seats. “Pretty cool, ain’t it?” Sakusa nods once, approaching the balcony and then deciding against it when he catches the telltale flash of a phone camera. Like clockwork, he and the other Jackals would be on every update page within ten minutes. A small object appears from behind the balcony wall, floating upwards in a thin arc before falling back to the seats below.

“The hell are they doing?”

“Sakusa, fans are trying to give us bracelets,” Bokuto beams, holding up his forearm halfway-covered in colorful beads. “Apparently it’s a tradition with this artist.”

“I don’t like gifts,” Sakusa deadpans, his mouth taut in a frown. “Tell them I can’t take it.”

“Too late,” Atsumu says, snagging a vibrant purple bracelet as it’s tossed upwards. He looks down at the eager fans below and claps, gesturing for them to throw more. “We’re already taking ‘em, so they’re gonna wonder why you’re not taking them too.”

“If they’re real fans, they’ll know I don’t like gifts,” he counters with narrowed eyes.

“C’mon, Sakusa. Take one, at least,” Hinata says. His shorter teammate carefully pulls one off and slides it onto his wrist. The pattern alternates between yellow and lime green beads, with letter beads in the center spelling ‘NOKMLYDANOEW.’ It looked like Bokuto and Akaashi’s cat stepped on their computer keyboard. “The letters are an acronym for a song, I think. It’s an inside thing with the artist,” Hinata explains, leaning his bracelet-covered arms against the railing and waving to excited fans.

“I’m gonna see if they have time to meet us backstage. The fans’ll go berserk.” Bokuto’s words make Sakusa’s eye twitch involuntarily. Staying longer than expected of him was a surefire way to make him irritated and they knew that.

“Yeah, they’re not the only ones who will benefit from a little meet and greet,” Atsumu whispers cryptically and it’s impossible not to see the way he looks Sakusa up and down.

“The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s nothing, really. Don’t worry about it, man,” Bokuto reassures him with a pat on the back, but he doesn’t budge.

“No, I’m interested. What’re you on about, Miya?”

“Trust us, it’s nothing!”

“Just grab a soju and relax, Sakusa–”

“They’re trying to set you up with the artist!” Sakusa flinches, turning slowly to his teammates that shrink away like vampires in direct sunlight. Hinata looks mortified, his hands slapped over his mouth as if to seal off what was already revealed. Atsumu and Bokuto shrug, giving him guilty smiles and showing their palms to convey their surrender. “That’s…that’s what they were talking about before we picked you up,” Hinata continues sheepishly.

“This whole thing is a blind date?” He seethes through gritted teeth, the lights of the stadium starting to give him a migraine. “You guys brought me here to set me up?”

“All we’re trying to do is have you meet someone new,” Atsumu says gently, stepping forward and then abruptly backward when Sakusa looks like he’s about to commit a homicide. “We think it’ll be good for you.”

“I don’t care about new people. I have work and you idiots to keep me busy,” Sakusa argues, crossing his arms over his chest. The beads on his arm press into his skin and he fights the urge to rip the entire thing off. “Why would I wanna meet some musician I don’t listen to?”

“Even if you don’t listen to their music,” Bokuto replies without hesitation, “You should read through their lyrics sometime; I think you’ll find a lot of stuff you can relate to. I bet they get just as much bad publicity as we do.”

“As if,” he scoffs. “I don’t need someone with a purple guitar telling me what I think.”

—

“You said there were volleyball guys in attendance, right? If they’re still here, I should probably meet them,” you say to your publicist as you step out from the automatic riser that brought you below the stage following the last song of the show. The sound of your platform boots echo on the linoleum in the back halls of the stadium, your exit music faintly audible from above. “Who are they?”

“There’s four in total, along with some managers and press. They’re on a team called the MSBY Jackals, with an outstanding record in the sport. From what I’ve seen, three of them are pretty nice.” The two of you, along with a handful of security guards, climb into a waiting golf cart.

“And the other one?”

“Toss-up. He might not even talk to you.” You take a sip from your water bottle and briefly glance at the photo your publicist has pulled up on her phone. You can guess which one is the quiet one from his face in the photo alone, staring blankly at the camera while his other teammates smile brightly.

“He looks like he’d kill me in my sleep,” you observe bluntly. “The type of serial killer people make fan accounts about.”

“In his defense, I don’t think this is his type of crowd,” she shrugs, her attention flicking to the way you stretch your legs in the seat of the small vehicle. “Sore?”

“Beyond belief,” you chuckle, wincing as a small stab of pain shoots through your calf. “I think I might need a little more padding on the soles, if possible. Chunky heels, in all their wonder, were not made for three hour shows.”

“I’ll see what I can do. You focus on turning back on for the players.”

After a few more minutes of sipping water and stretching out your legs in the backseat of the golf cart, you pull up to the loading dock where the four athletes are waiting. Two of them, one with iced tips and the other with vibrantly orange hair, practically jump in place when you arrive. The grumpy one lingers at the back of the group; the blonde player extends his hand to you as you step out.

“Thank you so much.” You greet them with a practiced smile and hope your exhaustion isn’t too visible. “Did you enjoy the show?”

“I couldn’t stop screaming the entire time and I think my voice is shot.”

“You are incredibly talented.”

“It was wonderful!”

“Oh, I’m so glad. It’s such a pleasure to meet you all,” you say warmly, truly wanting nothing more than to curl up in bed and sleep for 24 hours straight. Even when his friends chatter your ear off, the curly-haired one at the back doesn’t say anything. The short one with orange hair and the widest smile introduces himself as Hinata Shoyo, excitedly leading you to each of his teammates: loud Bokuto, flirty Atsumu, and reclusive Sakusa. You’re left alone with Sakusa when the other three rush off to find a bathroom, having been too excited to use one during your show.

“I didn’t take you for the bracelet type, Sakusa,” you comment, clocking the single bracelet on his wrist. “The colors are nice, though. They go with your eyes.” You let some of your facade come down, mostly because you figured you didn’t need to be as energetic around this one compared to the others.

“Yeah, Shoyo let me have one of his. Didn’t realize you had such a passionate fanbase,” he states and you fight the urge to laugh. “Or such a large one.”

“You didn’t think I had fans, Sakusa?” His eyes widen ever so slightly and the chuckle slips out before you can stop it, his ears turning a shade pinker.

“Not what I said,” he backtracks, avoiding eye contact. “The show was good,” he continues unexpectedly, and you find yourself appreciating his praise more than you should. It was a triumph, in your mind, every time you won over a new listener, and he was no different. At least he wasn’t one of the guys harassing you in your Instagram messages.

“I appreciate the compliment,” you say and catch his ears turning even redder. As much as he was trying to seem offputting, you could read him like a book. “You guys are in town for a game?”

“We’re playing not tomorrow night, but the night after. Coach would kill us if he knew we were going out before a big game,” he answers and you nod, gears starting to turn in your brain. It would be a headline tomorrow that the four players came to your show, but it would break the Internet entirely if you attended their game, especially in the middle of a sold-out tour. It was the kind of publicity you needed to drown out the tabloids.

“My last show of this city is tomorrow night, but I can get away with skipping a rest day. Would it be weird if I came to watch you play?”

“You want to watch me play?” Sakusa echoes. The tiniest little smirk plays on the corner of his lips. Ugh. For all his introvertedness, he still had the ego of a pro athlete. “That’s what you’re saying?”

“I meant you guys. Don’t think I forgot about the players that actually came to talk to me,” you correct quickly. You exhale through your nose and shake your head with a small smile. The enthusiastic conversation behind you tells you that the rest of the team is returning. “Fine. Maybe I do wanna see who you are under all that antisocial attitude.”

“Have fun with that. I don’t like new people,” he says, testing you. Too bad you were used to men that probably weren’t healthy for you. “There’s no changing that.” Your forehead throbs at his pure audacity, but you manage to keep an unbothered expression.

“Good thing I love a challenge.”

—

“I didn’t think they’d actually show up,” he mutters, taking another look at the large screens projecting the image of you in a VIP box. Sakusa didn’t recognize you without your concert makeup and stage outfit until Shoyo practically knocked him over in excitement. Seeing you smiling and catching your eye, even from at the bottom of the court, made his stomach turn in a way he wasn’t used to.

“I can’t believe we didn’t think of that first,” Bokuto beams, sending a powerful serve that barely cilps the top of the net. Sakusa finds his eyes drifting to your box, his scowl deepening when you blow an exaggerated kiss to his teammate. His next serve he puts more effort into, but when he looks up, you’re not even watching. Not only were you crashing his game, you were distracting his team. “Nice plan, Sakusa! Maybe we can become friends with them and go to each others’ events.”

“That wasn’t my intention,” he cringes, the idea of spending more time with you making him nauseous. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but the fact that you were making an effort to engage with him and his friends was outlandish. And all because he invited you to a game? Didn’t you have anything better to do?

“You thought inviting them to the game would scare them away, huh?” Atsumu’s watching Sakusa carefully, inspecting his disgruntled expression under a microscope. “Believe it or not, Omi, some people actually want to be around you…despite how difficult you make it sometimes.”

“I don’t remember asking for your input,” he threatens, but the blonde Miya merely shrugs, impervious to Sakusa’s warnings. “Can we agree to ignore their presence? Focus on the game. It’s your job.” Atsumu and Bokuto share a look, with typical Hinata none the wiser. Whether they knew it or not, your attendance was throwing off Sakusa’s entire concentration. The average spectator wouldn’t notice the change in Sakusa’s behavior; if anything, they would think he was functioning at a higher level than he usually plays. His serves are stronger, his spikes are sharper, and his steps are quicker than any other player on the court. Fans rave on social media about how focused he is in the game, and the reporters scribble in their notebooks the pressing question for the post-game press conference: Why are you playing so well today?

“I always play that well,” he mutters, his lie drowned out by the lively conversation around the booth in the corner of the restaurant. The Jackals had cinched an easy victory and Bokuto and Hinata dragged you from your box to get dinner with them. Sakusa sits at the edge of the booth, flanked by Atsumu, followed by Bokuto and Hinata. You sit at the other end, laughing at some dumb story being recounted. It made his forehead pound. “You just don’t notice.”

“Yeah, right,” Atsumu snickers with another sip of beer. “Admit it, something’s pissing you off.” Maybe I do wanna see who you are under all that anti-social attitude. Your words linger in the back of his mind and fire him up again, unknowingly furrowing his eyebrows and incriminating him. “Yep. Knew it.”

“Shut the hell up, Atsumu.” He hated that his normally-idiotic teammate was on the cusp of exposing the truth, not to mention the fact that he’d downed one too many soju bombs and was feeling pushier than usual.

“Is it ‘cause they actually listened to you and showed up?”

“I told you to shut up,” he hisses through gritted teeth. You’re laughing so hard that tears are starting to prickle at the corner of your eyes. It’s the kind of laugh where no noise is actually leaving you and you’re fanning yourself with your hand. Gross.

“Aww, look at little baby Omi-Omi, finally having a feeling over someone wanting to get to know him,” Atsumu gushes and Sakusa’s ears burn. He threatens his friend with an indescribable death to no avail. “I knew you had a heart under all that coldness!”

Sakusa’s fist clenches around his glass and he realizes his mistake a split second before there’s a sharp crack! and sudden pain prickles in his palm. “Oh shit, man. I–” His teammate swears under his breath when drops of dark red and amber starts to trickle down Sakusa’s arm, staining the white napkin on his lap. He grinds his teeth down to keep from crying out, the whiskey in his shattered cup burning his raw skin.

“What happened?” You’re by his side in an instant, your perfume flooding his senses in a way that makes him dizzy. “Jeez, Atsumu. What’d you do?”

“Why are you blaming me? He’s the one who was holding the cup,” Atsumu says defensively and you shoot him a look. “Fine. I got him riled up and he did,” he gestures to the mess on the table, “that.”

“Could one of you call your driver please? I think it’s time you three head back to your hotel,” you recommend calmly.

“What about Sakusa?” Hinata asks as he climbs out from the booth, dragging an apologetic Atsumu and a very buzzed Bokuto toward the door. “He should probably get that checked out.”

“I know. I’ll stay with him,” you reassure him and, after a brief pause of thinking, the short spiker nods and heads for the exit. Sakusa is rigidly still, save for the involuntarily twitching of his injured fingers. “C’mon, let’s go,” you say, gently guiding him out of the booth and grabbing some unused napkins to catch the bleeding. He follows you wordlessly, a million thoughts stewing in his eyes that he refuses to verbalize. He knew he didn’t like you when you tried to read him after your show, but the alcohol in his system was making him despise you.

You, sitting with him on the way to the nearest hospital. You, carefully looping the elastic bands of his mask over his face before leaving the car. You, politely declining a fan’s attempt to introduce themselves while you’re checking him in at the reception desk. You, listening intently to the doctor as she says that he’ll need stitches in his right hand and that they’ll need to pick every last particle of glass from his palm so that it doesn’t become infected. You, ignoring your vocal coach’s orders for a rest day and staying by his side from 11:00pm to 3:00am when the doctors finally finish his hand.

He despises you and his pride becomes a gag in his mouth once you drop him off at the Jackals’ hotel, rendering him unable to choke out a simple ‘thank you’ as you continue to treat him with unending kindness. You’ll get hurt if you keep being nice, he thinks to himself, and the way you flinch like you’d been shot tells him he’d spoken his thoughts aloud. He hears you murmur Sleep well, Sakusa, as he shuts the door with his left hand and stalks away, lost in the trenches of his mind.

—

“But, I’m not sure if it should be the A minor to keep with the chord progression or go to E to create some tension.” Your producer nods at you, his chin resting on his knuckles as you strum your latest song idea on your purple acoustic. It’d been a few days since your late-night trip to the emergency room with Sakusa, and you decided to spend a few hours in the studio before catching your flight to your next tour city. “And when I tried to do it on piano, I just wanted to change the key entirely.” He opens his mouth to speak but is abruptly cut off by three insistent raps on the doorframe of the control room.

“You have a visitor,” your publicist informs you, peeking her head into the room with a slightly bewildered look in her eyes. “He says it’s urgent.” Your eyebrows dip but you stand anyways, walking through the halls of the recording space until you reach the lobby of the building and stop in your tracks.

What the hell was he doing here?

“Hey,” Sakusa greets and you blink at him, like he was a figment of your imagination that would disappear if you ignored him. It’s impossible to ignore him, though, considering the outrageously large bundle of flowers cradled in his arm. He follows your eyeline, muttering, “I didn’t know which ones you liked, so I just…bought all of them.”

“I’ll, uh,” your publicist glances at you for a brief moment, giving you an unreadable look before gingerly taking the bouquet from the Olympian in the lobby. “I’ll take these and have them brought to your next hotel, okay?” She dismisses herself, leaving you alone with him.

“Why are you here?”

“Are you busy right now?” You cross your arms over your chest, annoyed that he replied to your question with a question of his own. Since dropping him off at the team’s hotel, you’d come to peace with his hatred for you even though you’d tried to be nothing but cordial; maybe he could tell that you wanted to be friends for the publicity, you theorized.

“I’m in a recording studio doing my job, so yeah,” you reply and allow all your suppressed attitude to rear its head. To your surprise, he doesn’t immediately fire back at you. If anything, Sakusa looked uneasy, nothing like the cold confidence you previously saw. “What do you want?”

“Do you have time for lunch?”

“Oh, now you’re interested in my company,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. In the time following that night at the hospital, you hadn’t received any updates other than an unprompted photo of hungover Atsumu. “Unless you’re ready to apologize for how much of an asshole you’ve been, I don’t wanna hear it.”

“I wanna start over,” he says as you turn your back on him to return to the studio. “One meal,” he proposes, “and if you want nothing to do with me after that, I’ll leave you alone.” You check the wall-mounted clock and make your decision.

“You get two hours.”

By the time you sneak through the back of a restaurant and sit down to eat, your stomach is turning itself inside out. You thumb through the menu eagerly, ignoring your present company until water glasses are set out and orders are taken.

“Look,” you begin, peering at him in the dim light, “I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

“That makes two of us,” he agrees. “You go first.”

“Truth is, I didn’t go to the game to see you, or any of the Jackals, for that matter,” you admit. “I went to get the tabloids off my back and give them a different reason to talk. I didn’t mean to mess up whatever dynamic you guys had going, so for that I am sorry.” You can’t see much of Sakusa’s expression, but you can tell his eyes are on you by the way they shine like a cat’s. It was off-putting, but also drew you in like a black hole. “Is your hand doing okay?”

“It’s better now,” he replies. “Doc’ told me that if we’d left that glass in for longer, it would’ve been more serious.” You nod and take a drink from your water as an excuse not to respond, to see if he would go further. “I, uh,” he swallows thickly, steadying his nerves. “I’m sorry for being avoidant and just being a general asshole. You didn’t deserve that, and I’m…incredibly remorseful.” A puff of air leaves your nostrils in amusement and he can hear you smirk from across the small table.

“I appreciate the apology, and the apology lunch. Wanna start over without our respective teams breathing down our necks? Friends?” You stick your open hand toward him and he shakes it without hesitation, sealing your deal. “Awesome.”

“You said ‘tabloids.’ What do they say about you?” Your smile fades and for a moment, he thinks he’s pushed too far too soon. He’s on the brink of apologizing again when you exhale an unsteady breath.

“The tame ones call me an industry plant,” you explain awkwardly. “The–uh–bolder ones call me a slut.” His nostrils flare and he’s glad there’s no glass in his hand again, otherwise he couldn’t promise it wouldn’t be shattered. “The big drama came from me leaving the producer who’d helped me start my career. The media got the wrong idea, said I’d slept my way into working with him, and left when I’d had my fill.” Sakusa slowly stretches his neck from side to side, willing the sudden tension in his body to relax as he starts to see red. “I hope you can see why I wanted to give them a different reason to talk.” It’s more of a struggle than he expected to keep his voice steady.

“What actually happened? With the original producer?” You hum in lieu of answering, grateful to catch the approaching servers out of the corner of your eye.

“I’ll tell you another time,” you dodge, giving him a smile that he can tell is off. “For now, can we eat? I’m so hungry I’m about to eat these silly little herbs in the centerpiece.”

—

Sakusa stays in Tokyo longer than the rest of his teammates, who depart on the team jet for the next game. He says he wants to do a little more sightseeing, despite having an apartment in the most expensive highrise in the city and knowing the streets like the back of his hand. The truth was, he wasn’t ready to give up the…thing…he’d established with you. He fell into an odd sort of routine: saying goodnight over text, calling you in the morning and telling you what time he’s picking you up, choosing the best places that can shut down for the world’s biggest rockstar on a day’s notice. You were in town for three more days and ended up spending every waking moment of them with Sakusa.

“You’re really good at dodging the cameras,” you remark over a shared cup of ice cream on your last day, digging your spoon past the numerous toppings you’d insisted on adding. “How do you do it?”

“It helps when I’m not surrounded by the three biggest noisemakers on the planet,” he deadpans and you giggle, a sound he was increasingly becoming fond of the more time he spent with you. “I’m pretty good at laying low. People don’t know where I am unless I want them to know.”

“Everyone seems to know where I am before even I know,” you frown. “I envy you; I really do.”

“I don’t,” he shrugs.

“Why not?”

“When you’re trying so hard to avoid people, they tend to stop looking for you. Makes my job easier.” Your lips part in an oh of understanding. “But, I guess you’re here, so either you truly care about my wellbeing or you’re clinically insane.” You burst out laughing, so much so that you snort and have to cover your mouth with a napkin. “My running theory is that it’s a mix of both,” he declares with a rare upturn at the corner of his mouth.

“Oh, shit,” you mutter once you’ve caught your breath and checked the time on your phone. “I should go. My plane leaves soon and my manager’ll kill me if I’m late. She’s already iffy about me staying in Tokyo this long.”

“What’s your next city?”

“Madrid. I’m starting the European leg,” you reply while you pack up your things. He stands, walking you to the door of your waiting car. His eyes instinctively scan the surroundings street for cameras, and he subtly positions his body to block you from any passing eyes as you climb into the car. The window makes a humming noise as you roll it down.

“Have a safe flight.”

“Don’t be a stranger, yeah? I’ll miss you, even if you don’t want me to.” He memorizes the way the afternoon sunlight catches in your eyes, how each thump of his heartbeat seems louder when you’re near. Something is wrong in my brain, he thinks to himself. Once he’s completely sure your car isn’t being tailed, he dials Atsumu on the drive to the hotel to collect the rest of his things.

“You land already, Miya?” His car purrs beneath his fingertips as he speeds through the busy streets.

“Safe and sound,” his teammate confirms. “Though jet lag is starting to hit Shoyo and Bo. How were the rest of your dates?”

“They weren’t dates,” he argues, his hands unconsciously gripping the wheel tighter in indignance. “I was just thanking them for that night.”

“Yeah, and a bit more than that, I figure.”

“I don’t even know why I bothered calling you,” he groans.

“Because you want me to say ‘I told you so,’ right? That it was a good idea for me to bring you to that show. You know, a trip to that conveyor belt sushi place will suffice as repayment.”

“In your dreams, Atsumu,” Sakusa deadpans.

“C’mon, Omi. I know you wouldn’t keep spending time with them if you didn’t feel some kind of tug.”

“Tug?”

“Like you’re drawn to them,” Atsumu gushes and Sakusa feels like gagging. “Intimately.” Sakusa definitely didn’t think of you that way…right?

“You’re such a pervert.” His disgust is clear, and his speakers blow out with Atsumu’s screams of Not like that! and You don’t even pull enough for me to make fun of! “I’m at the hotel now so I’m gonna hang up. Not sure again why I even bother talking to you.”

“Because I’m your best friend,” Atsumu answers. “See you soon, my sweet Omi~”

“Remind me to punch you when I touch down.”

—

“How was the show a few nights ago?”

“Amazing, as always. Almost fell on my ass running around to meet people at the barricade, but thankfully kept my balance,” you chuckle, running the pad of your thumb over the petal of a purple gladiolus. “You can probably see a clip of it on all the fan pages.”

“You think I follow fan pages about you?”

“What? I follow fan pages about you,” you insist. “User ‘omi-omisbigtits’ has some pretty funny posts of you.” Sakusa groans from the other end of the line.

“That’s the one fan account I have blocked because they post such heinous things,” he recalls. “Did you scroll far enough to see the one where I’m at the zoo and–”

“You’re running away from the peacock, yep,” you finish. Out of the various presents and letters your fans gifted you, you find yourself drawn again and again to the pot of sword lilies. “I screenshotted it and made it your contact photo.”

“I’m never sending you flowers again,” he mutters, but you hear it, snapping your head upwards.

“These were you?” Your jaw drops so forcefully that it aches. “You’re the mystery flower sender? No one would tell me who sent these!”

“Because I told them I’d sue if you found out it was me,” he shrugs and you roll your eyes, a grin creeping onto your face.

“Why’d you want to send them anonymously?” Upon inspecting the color further, you realize where you’ve seen the shade before.

He’d sent you flowers that matched your favorite guitar.

“I didn’t wanna distract you before your shows. I was aiming for subtlety.” You blink in disbelief. Sakusa had sent you flowers the night before you started your show run in Paris, knowing you would be at the venue for soundcheck. Maybe he did care about you and your career.

“Well, you failed,” you state, staring at the large bundle of purple taking up half the space on your dressing room’s side table. “This bouquet is the opposite of subtle.”

“Bouquet? I ordered you one stem.”

“No,” you restated. Even though you’d never video called Sakusa before, you switch on your phone’s camera anyway to show him the absolutely gargantuan amount of flowers he mistakenly sent you. “You ordered this.” To your surprise, he turns on his camera as well. His face contorts into such a shocked and puzzled expression that you snort out the water you were sipping, burning your nostrils as tears prickle your eyes. “Stop looking like that, I can’t breathe!”

“What do you mean, ‘stop looking like that?’ I didn’t mean to send you the whole rainforest!” You choke out another uncontrollable laugh, turning the camera to face yourself and setting it in front of your vanity mirror. “Alright, at least you got them.”

“Yes, and I really appreciate you sending them.” You can tell he’s not used to having his camera on, as he keeps tilting the phone at odd angles and barely showing his face half the time. “What’re you doing right now?”

“Just in bed.” Or a snowstorm, from the looks of it.

“Why does it look like your poor phone is in a typhoon?”

“You’re literally so annoying,” he grumbles, reluctantly positioning himself so that he’s sitting against the headboard. With the new point of view, you also notice very quickly that he…is completely shirtless. “Better?”

“Yep, yeah. That’s fine,” you force out, clearing your throat aggressively while the image of his very broad shoulders assault your brain. “Sorry that I didn’t send you flowers for your game.”

“The guys would give me shit about it if you do, so I’m glad you did not,” he replies. “Though, it does suck not having you around.”

“This is the closest I’m ever getting to you saying you miss me. I should commemorate it with a plaque.” Sakusa clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes, but you can tell he’s trying not to smile. He must’ve taken a shower recently; his curls look slightly wet and dangle haphazardly across his eyes. You have the sudden urge to run your fingers through it, and then the even more sudden urge to slap yourself for thinking in such a way.

“What city are you in now? I know you just finished up Dublin.” His voice snaps you out of your daydreaming.

“Paris,” you manage to reply without too awkward of a pause. “You?”

“Paris.”

“Huh? I thought your next game was in Brazil,” you ask. His face goes still for a moment and you figure it’s probably frozen from bad service, wherever he is. “Hello?”

“Sorry, you broke up for a second. What were you saying?”

“I was asking why you were in Paris.”

“I’m not in Paris,” he states. “I’m in Seoul.”

“Isn’t your next game in Brazil?” He pauses for an almost imperceptible amount of time.

“Game schedule got rearranged. We’re in Seoul, then the States, then Brazil.”

“Oh. I see.” A loud series of knocking on your dressing room door makes you jump. “Ah, I’m sorry. I need to go.”

“Rockstar duties?”

“You know it,” you yawn, taking one last indulgent look at the exposed muscle on his shoulders. “Hopefully we both get some rest for the coming days.”

“Yep. G’night.”

—

There was a little bit of lingering guilt on his end after you hang up; the fact that he’d lied to you about his whereabouts didn’t escape him.

He wasn’t sure what came over him, what sentimental demon temporarily possessed him to take a plane to wherever you were (Paris, not the lie that he gaslit you into believing) and buy a last minute ticket to your show. His emotions and desires were thrown completely off balance; he truly didn’t care if he was up in the nosebleeds if it meant he got to see you. Thankfully, a wealthy couple had bought out an entire area of club seats for their granddaughter’s birthday, but decided last minute that they wanted to fly to Cancun. It made him a little anxious, having all that space to himself, but he figured he could have his guards and team invite family to make it a little less lonely. It didn’t matter how many strangers he needed to meet or how much he had to spend.

He just wanted to see you.

He finds himself in a familiar position from the first time he went to one of your shows, rooted under the awning of the expansive lounge area and just out of sight from fans. His arms unconsciously cross over his chest and the beads of the bracelet he’d dug through his luggage to find presses against his skin. But, this time, he isn’t annoyed by the pain; if anything, it reminds him that he’s actually here with you, even if you don’t know it yet.

I’m pretty good at laying low. People don’t know where I am unless I want them to know. His words echo back to him and he makes his decision, stepping out into the stadium lights and resting his forearms on the railing.

He wants you to know he’s there.

The first fan to notice is a girl in purple, slapping her friend furiously until they both are gawking at him. One pair of eyes becomes two, which becomes five, which becomes twenty, until hundreds of phone cameras are pointed at him and snapping photos. The sentimental demon possesses him again and he sticks up an involuntary peace sign, even going so far as to smile to look less bored. They scream for him and he thinks the sentimental demon is Atsumu, because he finds himself imitating his teammate’s movements. His hands clap together and he gestures for fans to toss him bracelets, which become an impossible shower as dozens are thrown at once. By the time the lights dim and news of his presence is trending across the continent, his arms are covered in sleeves of rainbow beads.

—

The ache in your feet is immediately replaced by adrenaline when your head of security informs you who came to the show. You don’t bother waiting for the golf cart to bring you to the back of the stadium and take off sprinting, chunky heels and all. They’re calling after you to hold on to let the rest of your team catch up, but you don’t listen. The stadium staff look at you fondly but also have a reasonably startled reaction to you running like you’d escaped from an asylum.

You round the corner absolutely heaving and his face breaks into a wide smile. You’d never seen him look like that before, never at his games or during any of the time you’d spent together. It was an expression reserved for only you in this moment. You don’t remember if he catches you or if you embrace him first, but soon enough your face is tucked into the crook of his neck, eyes squeezed shut and grinning like a lunatic. His arms are rock solid around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer until you can hear his heartbeat slamming against his ribcage. Neither of you speak for a few minutes because you don’t feel the need to; only when you pull away to hold his face with your hands do you manage to articulate words.

“You’re here,” you breathe. “You’re actually here.” Recognition blinks onto your face and you suddenly frown, lightheartedly slapping his shoulder, saying, “You lied! Your dumb ass said you were in Seoul!”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” he concludes unapologetically. “I did slip up with my story a few times, though.”

“Yeah, you got your own game schedule wrong.”

“To be fair, some games did get rescheduled, which is why I’m able to be here. Our next game’s in Seoul, which is why I blanked and said that instead,” he explains and you respond with an exasperated eyeroll. “Find it in your heart to forgive me?”

“I see right through you, Sakusa Kiyoomi. You don’t…uhm…” He comes close enough that you can count his eyelashes and it takes you a few seconds to recompose yourself. “Mmm, you wanna kiss me so bad, it makes you look stupid,” you challenge and hope he doesn’t hear the butterflies going wild in your stomach.

“Maybe I do,” he smirks and it only makes the situation more sweat-inducing. “I missed you, after all.” Your eyes flutter closed as he leans in but instantly shoot back open, gently pushing him away as he pouts. “What is it?”

“Take me out to dinner, first. If you apologize sufficiently for being a terrible liar, maybe you’ll get a kiss,” you propose and he’s already lacing his fingers in yours.

“Good thing I love a challenge.”

—

In spite of his attempts to ignore the cameras and the footsteps that were always a few feet behind him, there was a pit in his stomach every time Sakusa was in public with you. He couldn’t figure out why he was so irked, but the feeling made it difficult to enjoy how you smiled at him in quiet moments and pointed out things he’d never think to notice before. Most perplexingly, you didn’t seem bothered at all by the cameras. It was like they disappeared as soon as he came into your proximity; you barely spared them a glance in favor of beaming up at him.

Even though you agreed that there was a feeling more than platonic between you two, he hadn’t mustered up the urge to kiss you properly, opting for your forehead or your hands instead. It didn’t seem to bother you, the way he only reserved showing his affection when you were out of view. But, he slips up the night before you have to part ways, him for his next game and you for your final European date. The dread he’d experienced for days felt like intuition telling him something was inherently wrong, like he was teetering on the edge of a cliff he didn’t know the height of.

It comes crashing down when the tabloids catch him holding your hand.

“Can you believe this?” You snort, showing Sakusa the headline as he forces down the bile in his throat. “They think you’re my next ‘big catch,’ like you’re a fish or something,” you chuckle obliviously, leaning into him on the living room couch of his hotel suite. He manages a pained mhmm and watches as you continue to scroll through the news site, the photos of him holding your hand and grabbing your waist flying by like a nightmarish film reel. He rubs his palms back and forth over the fabric of his sweats, feeling suddenly feverish from every single point where your body was touching his. Clearing his throat, he swallows thickly and you finally look at him, concern pinching in your eyebrows. Your voice is gentle and you reach up to feel his forehead; he dodges your hand and you carefully hide your disappointment. “Hey, are you feeling okay?”

“We can’t do this.” His heart sinks as you sit up and blink at him, his words registering slowly in your mind. “I can’t…I can’t do this with you,” he sputters out. You exhale a single time and he watches your eyes flick from side to side, your brain running a thousand miles a minute.

“I don’t understand.”

“We need to stop.” You laugh forcefully, like you were commanding your body to feel lighter.

“If this is a joke, Kiyoomi, it isn’t funny–”

“It’s not a fucking joke; you need to stop being with me,” he snaps and the room falls silent. The only thing he can hear is his heartbeat rushing through his ears, his face hotter than the sun.

“Why?” Your voice breaks and so does something in him, his jaw clenching unconsciously.

“You need to stop being nice to me,” he says through gritted teeth, “because I can’t guarantee I’ll be nice back.” This is how it always ends. Push them away before things get messy. This is how it works for Sakusa Kiyoomi.

“But you have been nice,” you fight back, your grief morphing into unfiltered rage as you stand and scream at him. “You sent me flowers. You bought me dinner. You flew across the world to see my fucking show!”

“That doesn’t matter. None of it mattered.” His composure wavers momentarily, unreadable emotions flashing across his face. “You can’t be close to me without getting hurt.” He gestures to your phone, the paparazzi image of you two together brighter than a Times Square billboard.

“Who said it needed to be that way?”

“Everyone did!” He stands without warning and you flinch backward, stumbling against the coffee table. “People think I’m an asshole, so that’s how I choose to stay. At the very least, I can predict things and prevent people from getting too close. You’re too close.”

“But you’re not an asshole. You’ve shown me that much,” you insist, arguing with his back as he starts to retreat into the master suite. What you say next makes him freeze, trapped in an endless time loop with you.

Tell me you care for your friends.

“What?” He’s seething as he turns, meeting your eyes. “What the fuck do you mean, do I–”

“Do you care about your friends?” You repeat, stepping closer to him. His eyes are burning, molten to the core even when you refuse to shrink away. “If Bo, Shoyo, and Atsumu were dying in a fucking fire, would you save them?”

“Of course I would,” he spits indignantly. “What kind of–”

“Then you have the capacity to love, Kiyoomi, as much as you don’t want to admit it.” You’re crying, tears streaming uncontrollably down your cheeks. Why are you crying? He never wanted to make you cry. What did he do to make you cry?

“Because the last time you loved something, people scorned you.” They told him his passion was suffocating. They told him he was walking a path that one could only walk alone. He’s frozen, his feet left immobile on the hotel carpet. He makes no sound beside shaking exhales and can sense nothing but your voice coming closer.

“You made it your career to prove that it’s worthy of your love…but you forgot how to love anything else.” Time slows. He doesn’t remember when your face appeared so close to his. He can see a universe behind your eyes and he wants nothing more than to hold you and call you his. His passion was suffocating. It would hurt you. It would burn you. It would–

“I wish you could love yourself as much as I love you.”

One breath, and then another.

A crack in an eggshell. A hole in a fortress.

You are an asteroid completely obliterating the planet he considered himself.

And when he finally kisses you properly, he understands just how freeing being destroyed could be.

—

Sakusa Kiyoomi did not like cameras. They were gnats buzzing around his head, calling for him to look this way and that, catching his every reaction to whatever crossed his path. They were broken whispers that floated to his ears, unintelligible conversations that stayed as voices in his head. He did not like cameras, but he found that looking at you was infinitely better than looking at anything else.

“You doing okay?” Your murmur is the only thing he hears, quieting the rest of the chatter around him. Swaths of dresses and suits brush against his arms and he fights the instinct to shield you from view, despite being sat in the very center of the huge theater. It was the biggest award show of the season, and he’d made a vow with himself that he wouldn’t ruin tonight for you. With your hand in his, as long as he had physical contact with you, it was easier to keep the doubts in his mind at bay. “I’m feeling fine, if that’s what you need to know.”

“I’m doing okay as long as you’re okay,” he confirms softly, barely sparing a glance at the giant lens a few feet from his face. “I’m here to celebrate you. I won’t let them bother me tonight.” You beam at him, opening your mouth to say something when a commotion comes tumbling down the aisle. “Actually,” he mutters as his three teammates trip over themselves to find their seats in the rest of the row, “Do you think I can have one nasty scowl? I promise I’ll behave otherwise.”

“Having a rockstar best friend is like, the best thing ever,” Bokuto declares before you can respond to Kiyoomi.

“I’m so glad Omi finally got his head out of his ass, too,” Atsumu drawls with an unbothered yawn that makes Sakusa’s blood boil. The blonde Miya sibling had been very vocal with the press about playing as the matchmaker, pointedly dodging questions about his own romantic status. “I think I’ll secretly have ‘I told you so’ engraved on the inside of your wedding rings.”

“Over my dead body,” Kiyoomi grumbles and you smile, squeezing his hand once. He squeezes back, pressing a rare public kiss to the side of your head. You shift your body to lean more closely to his and your wrist presses down on something wrapped around his wrist.

“What’s under your sleeve?”

“Hmm? Oh, this?” He pulls back the freshly ironed fabric to reveal a familiar pattern of green and yellow beads, out of place compared to the rest of his formal attire. “Got it from a concert,” he smirks knowingly. “The show was cool, but I think I’m in love with the artist.”

“Yeah? You never figured out what that acronym stands for, did you?” He shakes his head and you point at each letter bead, explaining, “No one knows me like you do, and no one ever will.”

“Well, isn’t that fitting?” The lights dim and the orchestra starts to play its signature fanfare, spotlights gliding in aimless directions across the audience. “Thank you for helping me understand.”

“The meaning of the lyric? Of course, I think of you every time I sing it, now,” you smile.

“No, about what you said that night when we argued.” He feels a familiar blush creeping up his cheeks. “About loving me how you love me.”

“And do you get it now?”

“I do,” he nods, glancing at the colorful bracelet on his wrist and your fingers intertwined with his. “I just needed a little bit of convincing.” Your head settles on his shoulder and he lets you, allowing himself to relax in spite of the sea of cameras surrounding him.

“Good thing I love a challenge.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! commissions and nsfw requests can be sent through my fiverr! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#tw blood #tw glass #sakusa x you #sakusa x reader #sakusa x y/n #sakusa kiyoomi x you #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x y/n #kiyoomi sakusa x you #kiyoomi sakusa x reader #kiyoomi sakusa x y/n #hq x you #hq x reader #hq x y/n #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff

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guitarstringed-scars · 5 months ago

Text

on stage- s. hinata

whenever you're ready

masterlist

you put your phone away into your bag, straighten up your papers in front of you, and look up to the stage for the first audition. the girl who goes first is a familiar face, the lead in your last production, so obviously she gives the audition of a lifetime.

“she's good. i mean, obviously.” you lean over to akaashi, whispering once she exits the stage. akaashi scribbles something in his notes.

“i agree. i think she could easily play one of the leads.”

you shoot him a thumbs up as the next auditioner enters the stage, for possibly the most monotone audition of all time. you end that not as good one with a quick “thanks for auditioning!”

this is going to be a long day.

18 auditions later, and its time for a well deserved break. you and akaashi head out to the lobby of the theater and stand in front of a busted up vending machine.

“got a quarter? i've only got 2.” you ask, eyeing the m&ms sat in the second level of the machine.

“nope, you could ask bokuto. He’s always carrying around loose change.”

“good plan.” great plan actually, you think, maybe he's with the ginger from earlier.

with that the both of you round the corner of the lobby, where you spot the trio of volleyball players.

oikawa notices you two first, “well if it isn't the famous writer and less famous director!”

bokuto and the other guy turn to you two quickly. ignoring oikawa, you turn to bokuto. “Do you have a quarter?”

oikawa frowns once he realizes he's being ignored.

“yup! what do you need it for?” “vending machine around the corner.”

the ginger cuts into the conversation at this point, “theres a vending machine here?” he asks excitedly.

“yeah, its just around the corner! want me to show you?” you respond, hopefully not sounding too eager. you shoot keiji a quick side eye, and he fortunately catches your drift.

“i'll stay behind, i'm not super hungry.”

“i'm shoyo by the way!”

“so...whats it like directing plays?” he asks, finally figuring out where to put his collection of quarters. you swiftly put your phone down.

“uhm...it's really fun. getting to direct has always been a big dream of mine, and getting to actually do it is super great, even if it's a play instead of a movie. this show might be my favorite so far. why'd you decide to audition?”

he punches in the number combination for his drink of choice, “oikawa told me i had to, but now that i'm here watching the auditions, i'm super excited! everything about it seems so cool!"

you both laugh. the vending machine clangs as the drink hits the bottom of the chute. he picks it up and hands it to you.

“i'm hoping this will convince the director to cast me.” he smiles at you, hand outstretched.

"bribery doesn't work on me,” you laugh and accept the drink, “just have a decent audition, and you'll be fine. thanks though.”

shooting him a quick, nervous smile, you turn back into the empty theater and have a seat at the empty table.

15 mediocre auditions later, oikawa is finally up on stage. he performs the monologue perfectly, and is met by audience applause once he finishes and takes a bow. you roll your eyes, but smile at him anyway, shooting him a thumbs up. it was a perfect auditon to be fair, not that you'd ever tell him that. after torus dazzling performance, shoyo takes the stage.

“woah! how am i meant to follow that up!” he exclaims. you grin at him from the audience.

“you can start whenever you're ready.”

a/n: woohoo 2 chapters in 1 day and first meeting of shoyo and yn!!! i really like this chapter, even though theres a lot more writing than smau, but dont worry there will be a lot of smau in the next part! also i'm starting to plan a second fic, and i'm still trying to decide which character to use, so expect a poll coming soon for that!

taglist: @yuminako @mylahrins @/intergalacticrory @zzzlevislothzzz @hibernatinghamster @shoyosluver @/walllflowerrrsss

if you arent underlined i cant tag you !

#haikyuu #haikyuu smau #haikyuu x reader #hinata x reader #shoyo hinata #shoyo hinata x reader #hinata #hinata shoyuo #hq #hq x reader

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lyrinsluv · 4 months ago

Text

7:49pm

timeskip! atsumu x [interviewer] reader

☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

wordcount: 1158! :D

being a sports journalist had its perks, i mean.. it’s not everyday where you get to meet all of these famous athletes. before you got all of the interviewing jobs, you became slightly inclined towards volleyball. whether it was women’s volleyball or men’s, you were interested in how their minds worked, hence why you loved interviewing them. you did more broadcast journalism, and not classic journalism.

now, you’ve been accepted to interview one of the men’s national volleyball team's setters, and the jackals’ setter: atsumu miya.

it was a post-game interview, so quick and fast paced was the label for it. setters were interesting. being the brains of the team was something that wasn’t for everyone.

you sigh to yourself as you stand in the vicinity of the game. it was a fast paced game. you noticed the relationship atsumu had with his teammates. he seemed to have their back, even when times were rough. but.. that wasn’t the case. you clearly saw the outcome of the game, even if it was just the first set.

it was 7:49, and now you’re internally groaning to yourself as you walk up to the cameras. you swore you were used to the whole process, but you had a gut feeling about atsumu. you smile at the cameraman as he hands you the microphone. and of course, he’s walking up to you. he waves his teammates off, and he looks at you and the cameraman.

“we’ll be live in just a moment.” you say plainly as you adjust yourself in front of the camera. atsumu didn’t like that. why? simply put, he wanted the cute interviewer's attention.

“where’s the other interviewer — the old guy?” he asks as you look up at him. you blink and you raise an eyebrow.

“i'm sorry..?” you ask, a bit confused at his random question. there was no other interviewer, hell, no one even took up this job because they were too scared to talk to a professional volleyball player.

“…i dunno.” you mumble as the cameraman starts counting down. you sigh as you go through the questions in your head. you look up at him and smile, indicating you were live.

“so, atsumu miya! many people always mix up you and your twin brother, considering you two live in the same city. how does that make you feel?” you ask, putting on a front. you could’ve sworn you saw his eyes wandering, but you didn’t say anything. you blink twice, confused as to why he’s silent.

“…i dunno.” he mumbles, seemingly mocking your statement that you said before you two were live. there was a cocky smile on his face -one that you truly hated. you kept up your front and you didn't push the question.

“okay then…!” you say in your cheeky television voice. you swallow back the need to just walk off, and you continue with the conversation.

“you and shoyo hinata seem really close! why is that?” you ask politely, not wanting to cause any big issues. you move the microphone to his mouth, and he looks down at you. he smiles and he takes the microphone from you, his fingers wrapping around yours. you swore to keep your cool, but your frown didn’t show that. he leans down to answer your question, holding eye contact with you the entire time.

“mm? well, im his setter. shouldn’t i be close with the guy i'm setting to?” he asks condescendingly. you just chuckle and you nod.

“ah.. um, yes..?” you say as you basically yank the microphone back from his grasp. the interview went on like that: fighting over the microphone like cats and dogs. after the cameraman showed that the two of you were over, you just groan loudly.

he wipes some of his sweat from his forehead with the bottom of his jersey, showing his.. well, clearly built body. you were pissed off at the guy you just met, but god, he was hot.

“what.. what the hell, dude..?” you ask bluntly, looking up at him as the cameraman scurries away.

“i'm sorry…?” he asks once again, imitating you. you blink as you realize his stupid mocking voice.

“what did i ever do to you..?” you ask in a half grumble, half whine. you knew you were going to get your ear chewed off when you went back to the office tomorrow. the defeated look that your body posture showed spoke volumes for him. he went to stand in front of you, the same stupid smile on his face. he puts his hands on his hips and he shrugs.

“ya didn’t say hi to me properly, cutie. i felt so unwelcome, i couldn't answer those questions properly..” he says in a half-dramatic half teasing voice. so this was your fault? you stare at him with a dumbfounded expression, ignoring the pet name he gave you.

“oh.. my god.” you mutter, a bit pissed off at him. you scoff and you take a couple steps back.

“you’re a baby, atsumu miya.” you say bluntly as you start to head out, leaving him with a dumbfounded expression now. you didn't care if it was disrespectful to leave a professional like that, but this was his home court. he could navigate his way around.

you sigh to yourself as you step out of your boss’s office, a frown eminent on your lips. your phone was ringing, which was kind of odd considering you took work seriously, so everyone knew to not call you during work hours. it was an unknown number, interesting. being upset with the entire interview situation, you pick up, wondering if it’ll add onto your bad mood.

“hi, cutie.” is all you can hear from the other side of the line. you want to grumble and scream in the middle of the news room, but you don't. because the unknown caller that you so happened to know speaks once more.

“next game, i want you to interview me again. i’ll treat you out to dinner for all the problems i caused.” he states. atsumu miya was a conceited, arrogant bastard in your mind. so why was this bastard saying that he’d treat you out? you swallow silently, keeping your cool so none of your co-workers tease you.

“..fine.” you mumble, not bothering to confirm if it was atsumu and how he got your number. you head over to your desk, sinking into the uncomfortable office chair. he hung up first. it was a quick call, more like he demanded you to interview him so he could fix his mistakes.

wait. you just bagged a date with a hot volleyball player? every single thought of unimaginable things were becoming, well, imaginable. maybe this little dinner would be something memorable.

you knew it was. why? simply put, the setter has his ways to get with his type. and you were his type.

#haikyuu #x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #hq atsumu #haikyuu atsumu #msby atsumu #atsumu miya #msby

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cherrysurf · 2 months ago

Text

“Orange bmw” Hinata X reader

f!reader, timeskip,fluff, sorry for mistakes! (ft.kageyama, atsumu)

listen to “my only” by leehi for a better experience

also heads up the orange bmw is like the one in frank oceans album cover [nostaliga ultra] that’s what i based it off of

[Oneshot : after years of not speaking to your ex boyfriend due to him professionally pursuing volleyball and now you rooting from a far. A random orange bmw shows up in your driveway with a note..?]

As you sit here in your living room watching the volleyball game airing currently that your ex boyfriend hinata shoyo was playing in. I know it might sound weird but you guys ended on good terms you knew it was best to leave him due to him constantly being on the go and you wanting something more permanent you both thought it was the best to leave each other, in reality you never wanted to leave him you truly loved him he was the best boyfriend especially in highschool.

*flashback (2nd years in highschool)*

It was a warm afternoon you and sho just finished getting out of school and wanted an ice cream since summer was approaching and the days were getting hotter and being such a good girlfriend and waiting for your boyfriends practice to be done he thought he owned you ice cream. “sho you’re too fast no matter how fast or slow we get there it’s still gonna be there” you say trying to catch up to your fast boyfriend of the time “i know y/n but i feel bad for having you wait for me during practice you don’t have to you know.” he says stoping waiting for you now “you don’t have to feel sorry i always enjoy watching you play sho it’s such an experience” you say smiling taking the gingers hand. He smiles “thank you for being such a supportive girlfriend y/n” he says leaning into you “always sho.” you say kissing his cheek. As you both are sitting on the curb now with your ice creams in hand watching the sun fully set hinara turns to you “y/n what car are you going to want me to buy you when i get rich and famous for being a pro volleyball player?” you chuckle “sho your not being serious are you” he looks at you deadpanned “i’ve never been more serious about something in my life than right now. You deserve it after everything you went through/ are gonna go through with me you deserve it.” he says now with a smile kissing your forehead “i guess you’re right huh?” you say smiling back thinking how lucky you were to have such an amazing boyfriend “mmmh okay once you do get to be rich and famous pro volleyball player i want a orange bmw the old school ones” you look at him “why orange?” he asks confused. “because my favorite color is orange like your hair” you look up at his orange wavy hair blowing in the wind a faint blush on his cheeks and ears appear “deal i promise with every piece of me to give you that car deal?” he says “pink promise?” you ask. You both pink promise on it. Thinking nothing of it.

*end of flashback*

You now still sitting in your living room with a Msby black jackals jersey with none other than hinata shoyos number and name. Praying so hard for hinata to win you can see his getting tired and you hope he pulls through to win he deserves it. After watching him through a tv screen for almost a year you can’t help but wonder how he’s doing truly you miss him and know you can get in contact with him very easily but you don’t want to interrupt his flow. As the last set happens and him and miya atsumu get the last point you can’t help but get up and yell happy that he won, you’ve never been prouder than now all the hard work and effort you’ve seen him put in you know he deserve this more than anyone.

Without thinking of anything you post a story on instagram in your msby black jackals jersey congratulating the team on their victory tagging the team to show your support and appreciation for the team. Funny enough you still followed your highschool friends tsukishima, kageyama, yamaguchi and yachi they were all very dear to you and would constantly tease sho for being with you. Kageyama seeing your story surprised you still even watch hinata and supporting him and his team, he knew you did it for him and tsukishima and he appreciated it and would tell you about in when you guys would text to catch up. He ends up sending the story to hinata saying “i guess you still have your number one supporter, and congrats on the win can’t wait to crush you next time we play against each other.”

Hinata after heading home and responding to thank you texts and finally opens kageyamas. He’s shocked “is that really y/n” he thinks after all these years she’s still supporting him and rooting for him like she said “she still kept her promise.” he thinks he can’t help but admire how even more beautiful she’s gotten. he checks instagram seeing that his team account has even reposted the story he dies for a bit not knowing what to do he’s freaking out.

You’re now freaking out yourself after waking up from your nap seeing that THE msby black jackals has reposted your story “ugh remind me to go private again next time i think about posting stuff like this.” you filled with regrets but literally can’t delete it because that’s weird but now knowing millions of people and hinata are going to see your story you can’t help but want to barf at this fact.

*incoming call from tobio*

you:hello pls don’t tell me you saw it too.

tobio: i’m pretty sure everyone saw it and i sent it to him too. so.

you: ARE YOU SERIOUS TOBIO?!

tobio: what i didn’t think you’d care especially since it was for the public to see gosh be more careful you idiot

you:you’re so lucky you’re not in japan id so kick your ass you loser i hope hinata beats you next time you both play

tobio: ugh as if i’ll get you tickets to make sure you can see me win against that tangerine

you: i will not be showing my face especially not after this publicity stunt

tobio: you’re fine y/n im sure he’s freaking out himself too i mean come on his ex girlfriend still rooting for him? he’s got to feel like an ass

you: you think?

tobio: come on we both know. anyways make sure you show that much support to me too smh *he laughs* bye y/n i’ll call you when i can okay?

you:My bad i will next time king of the court *you chuckle* and end the call

*end of call*

You fall face first on your bed and turn off your phone for the night.

shoyos pov:

“I feel so stupid. y/n was always the best and still supporting me after everything i feel like such a bad person i don’t even know if i should reach out or not i feel like that’s so dumb i truly don’t know maybe i should leave it alone? what do you think tsumu?” he says as he’s eating with his friend and setter miya atsumu. “I don’t know sho i mean i don’t think reaching out is a bad thing, do you remember anything from yer guys youth that you promise her as like small favor to make her think you haven’t forgotten about her because clearly ya haven’t” the setter says as he munches on his food and that’s when it hits the ginger “orange bmw.” he says the setter looks at him with a strange face “what do you mean orange bmw hinata?” he asks confused and worried. “I promised her an orange bmw when i became a pro volleyball player in our second year in highschool that was my promise.” hinata says half smiling reminiscing that early summer day. “okay but how are you gonna do that you don’t even know how to get one or where she lives now.” atsumu says with a mouthful. “i have connections ill make it work, it’s only fair i hold up my end of my promise.” hinata responds

*end of shoyos pov*

some days later….

As you’re making lunch for yourself you hear a knock at the door. “hi is this y/n?” the man says, you look at him “yes this is she” you responded “perfect i need you to sign this as confirmation it’s mandatory especially for cars” he says and with that he walks away you run outside and follow him “wait cars?! i didn’t order a car?!” you say puzzled, the man responds and once more before getting in the truck “it was a gift notes on the car.” and drives away you look at your driveway and see an orange bmw

“no fucking way.” you stand their mouth flung open you think no it’s not possible it can’t be, could it? you walk around and inspect the car it was just like the one you and shoyo talked about. As you walk towards the front windshield you see an orange postnote

“hey you kept your promise in supporting me, let me keep my promise too. I hope you love it. let’s catch up sometime okay? take me for a ride in it?- you’re ex boyfriend and favorite volleyball player shoyo hinata.

(xxx) xxx-xxxx

the end ;)

#anime #haikyuu #haikyu #anime and manga #hinata #hinata shoyo #hq hinata #brazil hinata #hinata x reader #haikyuu hinata #hinata shouyou #hinata shoyo x reader #cherrysurf writes

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osamusriceballs · 1 year ago

Text

The Accident Part VIII

Atsumu x fem reader

Warnings: None

Words: ~ 2k

About: You finally meet your good friend <3

Part I II -> Next part

"You know each other?!"

You stare at Atsumu with wide eyes, who just stares at the short blonde next to you and raises his eyebrows as if he just had an epiphany.

"Where have I—wait. Karasuno. Karasuno's manager! You're a friend of Shoyo-kun!" Atsumu's eyes shine when he talks about Karasuno, and you furrow your brows when you remember that it's the name of Yachi's old school. "Shoyo-kun? Like—Hinata Shoyo?" You ask, recalling a bright orange-haired man you've met a few times already when Yachi had invited you to drink with her and her friends. They had always been a lively bunch, definitely growing on you the more often you saw them.

"Hmm, we work together," Atsumu nods, and you blankly stare at him while you try to digest that piece of information. You know that Hinata is a professional volleyball player. Very professional. Olympics level professional. He offered you cards to his games quite a few times, and you had politely declined, not wanting to cause him trouble, but he had sent you tickets anyway for a game in a few weeks.

That probably means that Atsumu is a professional player too—or he might be some kind of manager, according to the vague statement that they are working together. His physique and his posture tell you that he potentially could be an athlete- you would believe that in a second.

"Working together like... playing volleyball too?" You ask for clarification, tilting your head curiously while you watch his reaction. His lips curl into a smug smile, and the confidence he's radiating now makes your legs turn into jelly.

"Yeah. I'm a professional, just like Shoyo-kun. He loves my sets, by the way. Always aces them with no problem."

His eyes capture yours and you hang on his every word, definitely surprised by the development. You're married to a probably very famous professional Olympia volleyball player. You're not even sure what to think about this; the new details just made the whole situation more absurd and unrealistic. The only good thing is that Yachi apparently knows him. You could maybe get more information out of Yachi about him later.

"I—wait. The marriage—you married ATSUMU MIYA?" Your attention shifts to Yachi, who turns almost worryingly red, and you quickly step closer to her and reach for her arm, trying to calm her down. "Yes, but it's okay. He's a good guy, okay?" You smile encouragingly, and Yachi takes a few hasty loud breaths before she nods.

Atsumu watches you both and awkwardly clears his throat, a faint blush covering his cheeks at your words, and rubs the back of his head. "I'll leave ya two alone then. I'll call ya, y/n."

The last thing you see is his smile before he turns around and walks away with his hands in his pockets now. His broad back is evident, especially when he's wearing the white dress shirt, and you can't help but admire the man for a second before Yachi enters your sight once again.

"Y/n! - what happened?!"

xxx

"I can't believe you're married to Atsumu Miya!" she exclaims, still sounding shocked as she repeats the same sentence for the third time after you managed to tell her the fully story during the car ride. Both of you sit on her comfortable plush couch, adorned with a few of her stylish designer blankets. You're glad to be in a familiar place finally, but you can't help but to think about Atsumu. Will he call or leave a message soon? You wouldn't mind him calling today already- just to make sure you have his number. Nothing else. Just to clear that whole marriage thing. And nothing else.

You nod with a mild smile an attempt to calm her slight panic. Atsumu has assured you that everything will be taken care of, and you find yourself actually trusting him. "It'll be okay. You mentioned he's a good guy, right? I mean, he's friends with Hinata."

Yachi deeply inhales and takes a sip of her tea and nods. "He's close to Hinata. They get along really well. But let me tell you, Atsumu Miya in high school is something else. His serves were powerful and terrifying- not as much as today, but still enough to keep us all on the edge. Even Nishinoya had a hard time receiving them. Atsumu-san and Osamu-san managed to copy Hinata's and Kageyama's special attack effortlessly. It was insane. Maybe we can find a recording of it."

She grabs the remote to turn on the TV, and you lean forward eagerly at the thought of seeing more of Atsumu. "I wonder what Atsumu looked like in high school," you muse, taking a sip of your tea, its slight bitterness complementing the rich flavor. "He basically still looks the same. His hair got a bit brighter, and I think he grew a bit. And gained mass," Yachi responds, finding what she's looking for with an excited squeal. "Here!"

You both watch how a much younger Atsumu raises his arm and much to your surprise the whole crowd falls silent. "What- that's not normal, is it?" You turn to Yachi who seems slightly pale, probably because she remembers the moment vividly. "That's normal for Atsumu Miya. He was so good and popular that he got that special treatment. It helps him to focus. Oh, and watch his steps! You can tell what kind of serve he's going to make by the number of his steps."

You diligently nod and watch him serve again, taking six steps this time. The camera angle is a tad bit closer this time, and you don't fail to see his yellow-ish hair that definitely looks different compared to his looks today. He was very fit, even back then, but he is definitely more buff today.

You watch some more of Atsumu's powerful serves, his form screaming utmost perfection, and memories of the very same strong, muscular arms wrapped around you make heat rush to your cheeks. Yachi continues to share insights about his playing style, and you quickly try to focus on her words.

"...their combined attacks are difficult to anticipate. But look at how Kei blocks it!" You nod enthusiastically while you observe Tsukishima's impressive block. The video then shifts to another game, showcasing Atsumu in a black uniform adorned with yellow claw prints on his sleeves.

"Oh, that's from the MSBY game! You should have seen him; there's this amazing set—" Yachi's words trail off as the camera cuts to an unusual angle, revealing Atsumu's impressive thighs in full glory as he sets the ball with a ridiculously seductive smile. Your jaw drops at the unexpected sight- you know for sure you would have fainted if you saw that scene in live. How dare he look so good while setting the ball?? "Look, Hinata easily managed to hit that! And there's Bokuto-san!" You recognize the orange-haired spiker, sharing a smile and high-five with Bokuto. "I can't believe that they all actually know each other."

"Yeah," Yachi smiles and nods. "Hinata always talks about Atsumu-san. And Bokuto-san is close with Osamu-san, I think. I've seen him post a few pictures with Akaashi-san at Onigiri-Miya."

"Is that the name of his restaurant? Atsumu said he would take me there someday." Yachi gives you a side-eye, and reaches for her phone. "You've gotten pretty close, haven't you? You seemed really flustered when-" You quickly interrupt her, "No! I—I don't even know him. I don't even have his number. He was just being nice, we're not really close."

Yachi nods with a small grin, and hands you her phone. "Here. That's his Instagram. He's also often at Onigiri Miya. It seems like he's very proud of his brother's success. I though you might want to have a look at his life."

"Thank you." Yachi is truly a great friend, and you feel once again fond of being close to her. As you scroll through Atsumu's Instagram, you find a mix of game snapshots, some pictures with Osamu, in which he always has a plate full of food in front of him, and you can't help but zoom into the plates, impressed by the neatly arranged dishes. As you keep on scrolling, you almost gasp loudly when you find a very surprising collaboration with Calvin Klein, featuring a shirtless Atsumu from a very close perspective. At first, you keep on scrolling, too flustered at the sudden revealing picture, but curiosity makes you go back after a few moments, and you look at the picture again.

He looks good. His muscles are well-defined and he grins seductively for the camera while he poses, clad in only a ripped pair of jeans. It's almost unfair how ridiculously attractive he looks, but you still think that he looks even better when he's just woken up, just like he did this morning. You exhale loudly and curiously click on the comments.

"I would pay real money to have him like this in my bed." "Christmas came early this year- and so did I." "Bless the Miya genes. I'd gladly help to spread them." "Thank you Calvin Klein. I'll make sure to get a pair of these pants." "*FAINTS* HE'S SO HOT, I CAN'T-"

You're startled when you notice how the comments get even more unhinged and shameless as you keep on scrolling. "He... has a lot of fans," you remark, scrolling back to the top and handing Yachi her phone back, to which she nods heavily. "He had his own fan club in high school, and ever since the Japanese team won the Olympics, the whole team has been very popular. Especially Atsumu-san and Sakusa-san."

You hesitate before asking the next question, uncertain of what the answer might bring. "Is there a reason why he's single? He seems like a decent guy, looks good, and he's probably rich. Isn't he the perfect catch?"

Yachi furrows her brows, thinking. "I don't know, actually. It's probably the same as with Hinata and Kageyama. They focus a lot on their careers; they simply don't have time for dating. I also found out that most volleyball boys can be a bit... intense. It's probably hard to find a partner that understands their passion. They prioritize training over anything else. I've never seen Hinata skip a day of training, no matter what happens. Their partners must accept that they put a lot of their energy and time into their jobs."

"Ah," you simply nod, slightly surprised by the revelation. You would have assumed that they have a very lively dating life, but it seems like they just live for work. Sounds a bit lonely.

"I also think that some fans are a bit obsessed with their private lives. There was an incident before with Atsumu-san and one of their fans- but things have calmed down lately, so you should be fine." Yachi reassures you, reaching for a cookie on the couch table.

"I think that—" she is interrupted by the sudden sound of a ringing phone, and both of you exchange confused glances before realizing it's your phone. Yachi's eyes light up, and she squeals, "Maybe it's him—I mean, I could have gotten his number through Hinata, but maybe he's got some news—"

You fumble with the phone, the unknown number undoubtedly belonging to Atsumu. Taking a deep breath, you nod at her and hold the phone to your ear, answering the call with a simple,

"Hello?"

#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu fluff #here you go!!#finally a friend of y/n! <3 #she has some more and you'll meet them soon too!#and you'll find out more about y/n in the next chapter #but don't worry I'll keep it as vague as possible!#ANYWAYS! I'll try to post another chapter this week #but it might take until monday T.T #I'll do my best though!#I'm eager to post the next few parts #and to finally come to the smut #it will take a bit though T.T #and let's not forget about the incoming drama~#ugh I have to get up soon for work T.T #I'm not ready T.T #it's gonna be a long weekend full of work #I hope everyone can relax a bit more #LOVE YA! <3 #BTW #I had such a hard time finding out how Yachi calls Hinata and all the other guys #She started by calling Hinata Hinata-kun but in the end she calls him Hinata #same with Kageyama #I'll just assume that she calls the others with -san #except for...#you might have already noticed who she's on first name base with~ that will be important maybe so keep that in mind~ <3

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kamisama1kiss · 6 months ago

Note

HII can i ask very kindly for a kageyama x iwa’s sister?? They met at kitagawa since theyre in the same year and reader decided to go to karasuno instead of sejioh like her brother. and she is the manager for karasunos team :33

pls and thank you if u do this request 🙏🙏

Awe, I love this 😭🙏 something about the manager trope. Like I would die for it if I could 😝🥛

{Will be using: She/Her/Girl}

~~~

Kageyama Tobio { Always there for each other }

The last year of Kitagawa for the both of them, having established a friendship earlier on in the years of middle school. Which only helped since she had joined the team to be manager, her brother had practically begged her to. "Karasuno? I thought you'd want to go to Sejioh." Questioning the setter which sat next to her in break.

"Well, I've heard a famous coach Ikkei ukai would return to the team. Still not 100% sure, though. " He nodded with hands in his pockets, "Going with Iwaizumi next year." Presuming she would be since the family bond,

"I'd have to see how it goes and such." A light shrug of her shoulder, looking at him as the eye contact was returned for a second before he hurriedly looked away, even a glimst of pink was dusted on his face.

"Well, whatever choice you make, I hope we can still be friends." Coughing in his line, looking around as if the wind was interesting to him.

"Of course." A lined thin smile on her lips, but before anymore could be said, the bell rang for class to start within a little. "Let's get going." A light punch on his shoulder before leaving to class.

It was a surprise when she had hidden what school she got into. It had gotten both Hajime and Tooru upset that she chose another school. Nevertheless, both of them let it go, one a bit longer than the other.

Nothing like that crossed her mind when she waddled down the school hallways, hearing voices in the gym being loud across the open doors. Stopping at the first door to hear the squeaks of shoes on the polished floor.

Someone tapped her shoulder, which made her spin around. "Are you interested?" A beautiful woman asked, having seen her looking into the gym for a while now.

"I uh.. yeah, is there perhaps a manager position open?" The mysterious woman smiled before pushing hair behind her ear, "There is actually. Was about to go looking for one since I'll be leaving next year."

"Come with me." It had been at least a little over a month since school started up again. As she elegantly walked into the gym with the girl following after.

Not long after entering the gym, all eyes we're on her. Sadly, she couldn't find Tobio, but she smiled at the rest of the team politely anyhow. "She will be a part of our manager team." The woman introduced me to them briefly.

"My name is {Name}. Nice to meet you all, I hope to be of help around." Waving with one hand as some smiled and waved back, other greeted back such a guy named Asahi who had been introduced alongside Daichi, Sugawara, and ect.

The gym doors we're sprung open as a familiar figure walked in with a short ginger, seemingly arguing with one another. "Tobio." She mentioned to herself in a whisper.

"Come on, you two, we have gotten a new manger for our team." Daichi, his voice easily booming in the mostly quiet room, but it wouldn't last long before everyone went back to practising.

"Hai!" They spoke in union, turning around to finally notice her. "I am Hinata Shoyo! It's a pleasure to meet you." The short ginger smiled widely at her and reached a hand out for a shake, she accepted and shook it. "The name is Iwaizumi {Name}."

As the interaction went on, then split. Kageyama stood and watched, feeling a sense of relief of having her her. " {Name}? I am glad to see you here." He said to her after Hinata had left off.

"Of course, I couldn't help myself. Plus, I see Iwaizumi at home all the time." Mumbling the explanation to him but pushing it away to smile. "I've missed you." She spoke even quieter than before. After all, they didn't have time to meet up in summer or anything.

He seemed surprised but kind of brushed it off. "No need to be so sentimental." Easily being able to pick up the fact his face had gotten pinker, scuffing before he lightly patted her shoulder and scurried off to practice.

She was left smiling softly, knowing it was his way of being 'kind'. When he went to the team, they all immediately accused them of dating, which he denied with red ears.

"Wow, the king actually got a queen. How surprising." Could be heard from the tall guy named Tsukishima Kei, with a green haired next to him laughing slightly at his words. "Could you shut up for once!?" Kageyama whisper shouted knowingly you could most likely hear it all.

The snow crunched under their feet as they walked. It was the weekend, which meant Kageyama and {Name} had the weekly hangouts yet again at the cosy coffee, which not many people knew of. Luckily.

Holding hands after some convincing from her side, he wasn't the biggest when it came to any sort of affectation no matter who it was. Letting it slide for maybe one or two individuals.

"The snow is only getting more intense." She muttered, looking up at him every now and then again. With only achieving a nod and "Hm, it is."

Raising a brow at his silence but shaking it off as they walked, it was a normal thing now lately. Almost as if he was shy to even mumbled out a proper word most of the time.

"Hey, uh, {Name}" he took a deep breath before stopping in his tracks. Looking at her as his hand squeezed hers lightly. "We've been friends for a while, right?"

His blueberry eyes looked around before meeting hers again, "Yeah, almost 4 years." His actions seemed more raw, genuine, and hesitant. "I've been.. Thinking." Forcing the words out. "We should go on a date." Speaking straightforward after moments of hesitation.

White snow flakes started to fall from the sky with a slow pace, embracing the duo. Her gaze fell to the snow, hand holding, before meeting his eyes. Finally, seeing his pink cheeks almost aluminating in the dark.

Grabbing both of his hands, pulling him closer, "I'd love to." She whispered into the darkness of the world.

~~~

I've loved Kageyama since day one of watching Haikyuu. Hope you all enjoyed reading!! ♡

#kageyama tobio #haikyuu #Karasuno #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama tobio fanfiction #volleyball #haikyuu fanfiction #kageyama #tobio #haikyuu tobio #haikyuu kageyama #tobio kageyama #haikyuu kageyama tobio #haikyuu ask #haikyuu request

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13a07s · 6 months ago

Text

My Everything #1

(Shoyo Hinata)

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to mx_opg]

Requested by: Myself

Word Count: 3,607

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Shoyo being a love struck clingy boy

There's a hint of bokuaka

Gets a bit heated towards the end (making out and technical dry humping)

Part Two?

———————————————————————

I can feel Shoyo's burning stare from where I stand in the gym doorway. He's not the only jackal staring though. Miya's eyes are set in the same direction, sights locked on his girlfriend who's standing in the doorframe next to me, waiting for her boyfriend just like I am. The jackals are stretched out across the floor, doing their cool-downs as their coach rambles on about their match tomorrow.

The coach claps, the usual lead-up to the players' dismissal. A second or two passes before Shoyo is up on his feet, racing toward me before any of the other players can beat him to the entrance.

The spaz doesn't slow down as he approaches me, full speed ahead as he dashes forward. His arms wrap around me when he finally comes in contact with me. My feet dragging for a moment before Shoyo manages to pull me up. He stumbles out the door, struggling to slow down and balance both our weights as he moves.

"Hello, baby. I missed you. What did you do while I was at practice? You look beautiful. I love these pants on you. Did you pack our bags yet? Called the chauffeur? I don't want to drive us. I missed you, did I tell you that? Because I did miss you. I thought of you every second we were apart. Well, not every second. I thought about volleyball a lot but when I wasn't thinking about plays and practice and such I was thinking of you. I missed you so much."

My golden retriever of a boyfriend rambles on, word vomiting as he squeezes me between his arms, kisses being slobbered against my face. I'm pranced around the grass right outside the gym, clinging to Shoyo's shoulders as he bounces around. I swear, if he had a tail it would be wagging a mile a minute right now. "I love you so much," he whines like it's pained him having to go three hours without saying it. The admiration is paired with another messy kiss pressed onto my cheek.

Shoyo is attached to my hip as much as he can be, that time is split up by his workout routines. An hour run first thing in the morning, his team training for three hours in the afternoon, an evening two-hour workout session at the gym, and then a final hour run at night. Five days a week, leaving Sundays and Thursdays for ourselves.

His days off are the best. Sundays are our lazy days at home and Thursdays are always packed full of adventures, secret dates, and running to hide from Shoyo's publicity. My wonderful, famous spiker of a boyfriend does all he can to keep me hidden from the world, at least personal information about me; no pictures, my name is nowhere to be seen, and no interviews or statements.

He acknowledges me all the time though, to the point there are millions of videos centered around us. "Taking a Shot Every Time Hinata Shoyo Mentions His Girlfriend" and compilations of him talking about me in his interviews.

My heart skips a beat every time I watch a new interview of him. "My girlfriend", "my baby", "my girl", "my cheerleader", and a million other things always fall from his mouth, usually followed by a compliment or a thank you or something about me he loves. Nothing beats watching him gush over how much he loves me and how proud he is to bring me home another win.

"I love you too," I mutter, chasing his lips for a moment before I get the kiss I want and he so desperately seems to need.

Happy sighs spill from him, being caught in my mouth as Shoyo kisses me back, hands tightening on my thighs from his enjoyment. "You... are... my... whole... heart," he mutters, pecking my lips between each word. "My everything," he adds, another kiss, this one longer and rougher with his longing for me.

"You're my everything," I echo Shoyo's little saying, my heart skipping again.

The first game I came to was wonderful, his team won, and everyone was thrilled. Afterward, an interviewer asked why it was 'his best game yet'. Without missing a beat, he pointed to the stands, a big grin on his face as he answered, "My everything was in the stands today. I can't bring her home a loss so I made sure to bring her home a win." Even now I can't help but feel giddy thinking about it. I never knew dating an athlete would be filled with so much pride, glee, and romance.

Gently, Shoyo sets me on my feet, fingertips toying with my belt loops as he tugs on my pants. "I love you. I love these pants on you. I love your eyes. I love your hair. I love you so much," he whines, using the loops to tug me closer to him.

"I love you too, Sho," I giggle, looping my arms around his neck before leaning to kiss him again.

"I would love a lack of PDA," Miya chuckles from the gym door, an arm around his girlfriend as he leans down to plop a kiss on her cheek. He's got two bags on his arms, one that I recognize as Shoyo's.

"Sorry, Atsumu," He mutters, filled with shyness and cheeks pink from embarrassment.

"I'm just giving you shit," his teammate continues to chuckle, leading himself and his girlfriend toward us. "See you tomorrow?" He asks, dropping the gym bag at Shoyo's feet.

"Bright and early," he chirps, nodding in agreement before bending down to pick up his bag. "Come on, baby," he coos, arm wrapped around my hips, elbow pressed against one as his fingertips press against the other one. It makes it awkward to walk, especially with Shoyo tugging me closer to his side, but it makes him happy so I deal with the stumbling.

Once our feet hit the pavement of the parking lot, his hand slides into my pants pocket, snatching the keys before he races forward. I stroll after him, watching him eagerly bounce with the passenger door held open for me. "Thank you," I hum, kissing his cheek before I slide into the car.

Shoyo squirms with happiness as he bends down, buckling my seatbelt for me and pecking my lips before closing the car door. My eyes trail after him, watching him bounce to his side of the car, repeating his actions to himself. "You are so pretty," he whispers, puppy-dog eyes set on me for a second before he focuses on starting the car.

When the soft hum of the engine is started, a hand settles on my thigh, fingers squeezing hard enough to make gentle indents in my flesh. His other hand clings to the steering wheel, releasing it long enough to switch the car's gears before backing out of the parking spot. Shoyo looks so hot when he drives, it's almost a shame he wants to take a chauffeur to Shizuoka.

———————————

My feet uneasily slide against the wood floors of our condo, trying to keep myself steady as Shoyo hangs on me. One of his hands is gripping my belt loops again, the other one balling up my hair at the nape of my neck. My head is shifted, giving the clingy man full access to the side of my neck. Access that he happily uses, peppering tight kisses and soft nibbles to the skin.

He trails around after me, close enough to keep his hold, and accidentally bumping into me every few steps. Shoyo doesn't let up as I hang the car keys, or when I lead us toward our room. He only parts from me long enough to take his bag off and toss it next to the closet. "Come here," he whines, wrapping his arms around me again.

Like at the gym, I'm lifted off my feet, but this time I'm quickly put down again. I'm left sitting on the bed, the eager man quickly crawling into my lap and bullying me into lying down on the mattress. "Sho, I have to finish packing," I murmur, hands burying themselves into his firey locks.

"In a minute," he barely answers, situating himself so I'm caged between the bed and him. Shoyo's hands are tipping under my shirt, fingertips resting above my waistband but palms still pressed against the bones of my hips. My lover boy is arched as he hunches over me, knees sandwiched with the bed and my sides as he hovers, a bit of his weight pressing into me but not to the full extent. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," I coo, twirling the untamed ends of his hair around a few of my fingers. My neck sizzles from the constant attention to it; kisses, nibbles, and the occasional soft suckle.

A few times, Shoyo's legs tighten on my sides before relaxing again. His hands wander occasionally too, rubbing my lower stomach before falling back into place. "Okay, I feel better now," he mutters, sucking on a patch of skin before rolling off of me.

I shake my head at the needy boy, sitting upright once he's off of me. When I go to slide off the bed, he catches a belt loop again. "You're so beautiful," he whispers, quickly sitting up to stamp a kiss on the back of my shoulder.

"You're so handsome," I compliment back, shooting a smile over my shoulder. Shoyo's grin widens, another smiley kiss to my shoulder before I'm released and he's flopped on the bed again. "Needy boy," I tease, successfully sliding off the bed this time.

"Just for you, my everything," he flirts, arms over his face so all I can see is his sparkly teeth still settled in a smile.

The nickname makes my cheeks heat up, the lingering feeling of his lips against my skin somehow burning even more now. I shake the feeling off, eyes falling to the forgotten sports bag on the floor. I roll my eyes at the volleyball player spread out on the bed, a smile still painted on my lips as I pick up after him.

I unzip the opening, tipping it over to spill the context of it out. A million different things spill out, landing on the floor. I do a quick swipe through it with a wet wipe too, making a mental note to run it through the laundry when we get home. Once the bag is cleaned out, I settle on the ground, set to start dividing up the contents; laundry, back in the bag, throw away.

As I'm sorting things into their piles, the sound of him moving catches my attention. I amusingly watch him slide off the bed, lying on the floor as he scoots his way towards me. The whole time he slithers around his bright eyes are locked on me, watching me slowly repack his bag for him. "Hello, Honey," I coo when he gets closer, the crown of his head tapping against my thigh before he settles.

"Hello," Shoyo echoes, moving around a bit so he can rest his head in my lap. "What are you doing?"

"Cleaning out your volleyball bag," I mutter, a hand falling away from my task to gently scratch his scalp.

"How'd I get lucky enough to have a woman like you to take care of me?" He sighs, eyes closed, and his face relaxed as he enjoys my soft touch.

I roll my eyes again, my smile growing at his flattery. "Sho, it took two months of us dating before you started begging me to move in and be your 'little homemaker'," I tease, starting my mental checklist of missing items. Jersey, clean water bottle, towel, snacks.

"And it was the best decision of my life," Shoyo says, eyes snapping open to look up at me.

I try to ignore the look on his face, the love and certainty waving off of him as he admires me. I need to focus on finishing our packing and texting Kozume about sending one of his drivers. If I give into his flattery, we'll never make it to the hotel in time for check-in.

Shoyo turns onto his side, shifting again to bury his head into my stomach, arms wrapped around my leg as he gets comfortable. "I'm excited you're coming with me this time," he whispers into my belly, rubbing his nose against me. "I always play better when I get to have breakfast with you before my game."

"I know, Hon," I hum continuing to scratch his head, this time paired with kisses decorating the side of his face. "But," I start again, tugging my touch away from him. "If you want to make it to your game you have to let me finish packing so we can get going."

"Fine," Shoyo sighs, shoving his face into me in a half-kiss half-head butt before rolling off of me again. "You're so beautiful, it's wonderful," he mutters, eyes still locked on me as I crawl off the floor.

"Thank you."

"Of course, baby."

———————————

Shoyo squirms in his seat, his leg bouncing and his hands messing with his seatbelt. His eyes jump around too, out the window for a moment before skipping to the divider's rearview mirror and finally sliding over to me before repeating the cycle. He never does well on car rides unless he's the one driving. Maybe I should have bickered with him about it.

My eyes are cast on my phone, skimming over the "Volleyball is the Main Chick, We're the Side Chicks" group chat. It's a group of the girlfriends and wives - and Akaashi - of the Jackal players. I shake my head, mostly aimed at Bokuto when my eyes scan over Akaashi's message. When are those two going to confess their feelings for each other? Never, probably. They'll grow old together as "just roommates".

"Pay attention to me," Shoyo whines, snatching my phone from me. "I miss you."

"How can you miss me? I'm right here," I tease, letting the clinger have my phone and my undivided attention.

"I'm not touching you. I miss your warmth... and your kisses," he mutters, starting sorrowful before getting more excited.

I shake my head at him, leaning across the middle seat to press my lips against his. Shoyo is instantly thrilled, happily kissing me back as a hand jumps up to cup under my chin. His other hand quickly finds my knee, squeezing it before sliding up to rub my thigh. "Silly boy," I hum, starting to pull away from him.

"No," he whines, his hand sliding off my chin to cup the back of my neck. "I want you. Come here," he continues to whimper, a pout on his lips as he tries to tug me back toward him by my thigh, hand still clinging to my neck to keep my head in place. "Please come here."

"I'm as close as I can get, Honey," I utter, giving in and continuing to peck his lips.

Shoyo melts into the kisses, soft whimpers and whines spilling from him every time I inch away from his mouth. "I need you. I need your kisses. Come closer," he wails, falling into my little cat-and-mouse game, eager lips chasing after mine. Every few attempts he fails, his kisses landing on my cheeks or the corners of my mouth.

"I'm as close as I can get," the words come out jumbled because of his lips hungrily pressed against mine.

The hand on my thigh crawls up my body, back to messing with the belt loops of my pants. The hand on my neck wobbles its way down my body, bumping against my hip as he struggles to unclip my seatbelt. An excited sigh spills from Sho when the click fills the car, both hands strung through my belt loops now. I'm tugged across the backseat and yanked onto his lap.

"You're beautiful. I love you, so much. You're perfect. I adore you. You're excellent. You're my everything," he rambles, jittery hands struggling to undo his seatbelt. "I missed you so much while I was at practice. I miss you anytime we're apart. It's going to be so fun playing tomorrow but it's going to suck being so far away from you all day," he continues to jabber yanking me forward once he manages to untangle himself.

"Calm down, Honey," I coo, settling my arms over his shoulders.

Shoyo's eyes are wide and glossy as he looks up at me, so much compassion wrapped up in them. "I love you so much though," he babbles, continuing to pull on my belt loops as if I could get any closer to him. "You're my everything. Everything," he repeats, emphasizing the word by dragging it out. "Please, baby?"

My teeth graze my bottom lip, Shoyo's desperation for me stirring in my veins. He's always been clingy, but he's even more high-maintenance before a game. My cute, needy, lover boy. "Please what, Honey?"

"Kiss me," he whispers, pushing me back a bit before jerking me forward again. "Pretty please."

I hum in approval, tightening my arms around his neck as I rock my hips against his. A small whimper falls from Shoyo before I crash our lips together again.

His hands finally leave my belt loops, shoving their way under my shirt before settling on my upper sides. The cloth of my shirt hangs over his wrists, showing off most of my torso and a peak of my bra. Shoyo's thumbs toy with the underwire of my garment, gently snapping it as he messes with the lace.

His plush lips slide against mine, selfishly taking as many kisses as he likes. It's not long until Shoyo's tongue is poking at my lips, thumbs permanently settled under the wire of my bra now. A soft sigh is exhaled as I let my lips fall into a small gap. An excited squeak falls from my lover, his tongue sliding into my mouth and eagerly exploring my mouth, dancing over my tongue.

When we finally part, his chest is pumping with a mix of neediness for air and me. "I can't wait to get to the hotel," he stumbles out, his words as shaky as his breathing. "I can't wait to make my everything feel everything she makes me feel," Shoyo sighs, slightly rocking his hips against mine, his head tipping to the side.

His lips settle on my neck again, not wasting time with butterfly kisses as he did earlier. He's instantly sucking on my neck, enough to make it tingle but not enough to promise a mark. I let my head tip too, lulling to the side so my energetic boy can waste some of his energy.

Maybe it wasn't the wrong decision to not bicker about having a driver take us to Shizuoka. Oh my God, the driver. "Shoyo!" I yelp, hand to his chest to push him back a bit. "We have company," I hiss, jerking my head toward the drive.

"So?" He murmurs, pulling me against him again, lips already back on my neck, suckling teasing tingles into my skin. "Kenma's drivers won't say anything or else they wouldn't be his drivers," Shoyo hums, already attached to my throat again. "Just let me make you feel good." Shivers shutter through my body, both helping me relax and getting me excited. I love dating an athlete.

———————————

My eyes flicker between the desk worker and my phone, uselessly scrolling through it as Shoyo talks to the lady. He - and Bokuto - are beaming as they ramble about the match tomorrow. Akaashi is settled next to me, doing the same thing as our boyfriends act like the spazs they are.

The desk lady doesn't seem to mind them though, a love-struck expression on her face as she talks to the spikers. I always thought I'd be one of those jealous girls who wouldn't be able to stand Shoyo's fan girls. Surprisingly, I'm not. I find it almost funny how they are so obsessed with him knowing he only has eyes for me.

A smile settles on my lips as I focus on my phone again, his clinginess, especially in the car, replaying in my mind. The smugness doesn't stay for long though. I scroll for less than a minute before my heart drops.

Plastered on my phone - on the internet - is a picture of Shoyo and me. A picture of us in the car, of me in his lap, of his hands very obviously under my shirt, of his mouth eagerly suctioned to my neck. I don't know how, but thank the lord you can't see my face. However, you can easily make it out as him in the picture. He's tagged in the picture, the picture already with a hundred thousand likes and a little over a thousand comments.

I stall for a moment, not sure if I should check the comments or not. I decide not to. I do however decide to share the link to the group chat. Instantly, Akaashi's phone dings, his eyebrow cocking up as he looks at me. "I don't want to talk about it until after Shoyo knows," I whisper, my tone a bit hissy as I glance at the man next to me.

"Don't look at the comments," he mutters, letting the conversation drop after his statement. Akaashi's words make me both a bit frightened and intrigued, but I know how the public can be. It would be better not to look. I won't look.

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#haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #shoyo hinata #shoyo hinata oneshot #shoyo hinata x reader #shoyo oneshot #shoyo x reader #hinata oneshot #hinata x reader

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belatinysun · 7 months ago

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Asas São Paulo Shoyo is so so iconic, special, perfect to me 🤧 i simply LOOOOOVE how his orange jersey is sooo similiar to some brazilian uniforms, especially the one from São José dos Campos! the color palette used is identical and it's a team from São Paulo so i think it was the great inspiration for his new jersey 🧡

brasil hinata you will always be so famous 😩🧡🧡🧡

#haikyuu #hinata shoyo #anime and manga #hinata shoyo is my son #my brazilian superstar #seriously he is my life and happiness #i will defend him with my life #everyone loves hinata #aaaaaa #haruichi furudate

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y-akkun · 1 year ago

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Hinata Shoyo, you will always be famous

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shibaraki · 6 months ago

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HINATA SHOYO YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS

#SHOYOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

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girlwithalotoffeelings · 1 year ago

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This is a ship prompt for haikyuu fanfiction. If it sounds weird, this is a rp prompt so I apologize!

Tobio Kageyama was known as the distant prince by his family. He was the kings first-born son, but he was more interested in magic and potion creation than fighting. Tobio always overheard his family talking about how his family’s traits were wasted on him. At the ripe age of 18, he ran away. A rumor was started about him, calling him the witch in the forest who would kill you if you got too close.

Years later on a fateful day, The famous warrior Shoyo Hinata stumbled across his cottage. After a rather strange meeting, they started to get along pretty well. Eventually, Tobio gained a crush on the other male. When he found out, he felt strange. His skin didn’t feel like his own anymore around him and he felt hot in the face whenever he did something adorable. Tobio decided to tell him when Shoyo came to his cottage later.

Kageyama x Hinata (Royal AU)

It's been a little over 3 full moons since the estranged Prince Tobio of the Kageyama line had fled the castle. He'd done okay for himself so far, finding the little play house that him and his father had built together when he was just 5. Not that his father would remember it, but atleast that gave hope that he wouldn't be found for a long while.

He had fixed the leaking roof and reinforced the walls making it a cozy interior with quilts and pillows he had picked up in town. He'd head into town once a week to get the things we would need. Kept his head low and made himself scarce. The last thing he'd need was to get caught for his own foolish mistakes. Some would even consider this foolish, being in town with the palace guards combing the kingdom for him.

He sat on his little make-shift bed and put down the book of potions he was reading, or atleast trying to read. He sighed to himself, how long could he keep this up? He couldn't leave the kingdom, he'd be caught at the border immediately. And he couldn't risk living in town. This was his best and only option, if he wished to live the life he'd longed for.

○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○

It had been 4 years since he'd left his royal life behind. He is still in the same little play house that he's now made into quite the impressive cottage over the years. He's grown comfortable with the humble life he'd built for himself, safe for the lonely nights that seem to make his bed cold.

He'd grown into quite the sorcerer with his dilegent work ethic. In the beginning one could swear that he had a gift for making this explode... in his face. It had become such a regular occurrence that passer-bys from the town has seen him on more than a few occasions. Thus spiraling a rumor that there must be an evil witch living somewhere in the forest, ready to kill whoever dares to cross her. He giggles to himself whenever he overhears the towns people talking about it.

He had even begun selling the potions he had perfected to a few people that were willing to pay the price.

The guard tasked with looking for him has dicepated to none, having been preoccupied with the war that started a year after his disappearance. It had only just recently been won. He had seen the meddle ceremony after the soldiers that hadn't died in combat came home with a victory under thier belts.

But today, today was peaceful. He had been picking up wildflowers, herbs and other edible things he could find. Some were for his works and experimentations, others were for the stew he would make later today.

He was content until he heard the footsteps of someone else approaching. He panicked, he tucked what he had collected into his basket and started a quick paced walk in the opposite direction. Sure that running would look suspicious.

"Hey, you!" The man shouted. Kageyama quickened his pace, screw being inconspicuous. To his dismay the man was running after him.

"Stop! I just wanna talk to ya!" It was then that Tobio recognized that voice, that was the voice of the warrior Shoyo Hinata. The soldier who spearheaded the war, the one who had won the war for the kingdom. SHIT! He stopped in his tracks, he couldn't risk leading him to his cottage, then he'd be done for sure. He'd just have to find a way to slip through Hinata's fingers. After all, he had trained for combat his first 18 years on this earth. He quickly covered his face with a stray piece of cloth he had carried a few herbs in before. Kageyama ubruptyly stopped and turned around to look directly at the warrior, shoulders broad, and head held high.

Hinata had stopped a few paces infront of him, taking in the form of the hulking man infront of him.

"What do you want?" Kageyama spoke, voice stern and unwavering.

"I-," Hinata voice was caught in his throat at the sound of Kageyama's melodic voice, smooth and strong. "I just wanted to know what you were doing all the way out here. I wanted to make sure you got to wherever you're heading safley." Hinata had failed to mention that he had been lurking at the edge of the clearing for the last 15 minutes watching Kageyama pick and sort through all that he had collected, mesmerized by the methodical way his hands worked.

"That's not of your concern. Now leave me alone." His voice came out softer that he intended it to. He hadn't felt the feeling that someone cared for him in so long. That someone was looking out for him. That he wasnt completely alone.

The first response that came to Hinata's mind was to snap and this stranger for his rudeness, but he caught himself. Not missing the way his tone had shifted into one with a hint of sadness. "Are you alone?" The question was gentle and soothing. He didn't want to offend the man.

"Does it matter?" Kageyama whispered, looking away from the warrior afraid he might see the slight shimmering in his eyes from unshed tears.

"Yes, ofcourse it does!" Hinata shot back immediately a little louder than he probably should have.

"Why?" Kageyama sighed with a shrug.

"... because," Hinata faltered trying to determinewhy he cared so much. "It can be lonely." His voices sharp edge dulled as his own answer left his lips. Coming to the realization that that was how he felt.

The life of a soldier was one less than equipped to handle a work/life balance. It left little room for friends, much less romantic endeavors. He craved it though. The urge to be domestic with someone to love and be loved by. But he also ceaved the glory of bringing victory to his kingdom. In the end he never thought he'd have to sacrifice one or the other but it seemed the choice had been made long before he realized it existed.

"Why do you care?" The masked man asked, venom dripping from his words, effectively snapping him from his thoughts.

"Why wouldn't I?" He shot back with the same viciousness.

"Because you do not know me, I am a stranger to you!" Kageyama's words grew loud again. Before Hinata had the opportunity to respond the bell in the middle of town square chimed loudly. A call to action to every soldier in the land. Just then a brilliant idea had sprung to his mind.

"It doesn't have to stay that way. Meet me here tomorrow at noon. Then, we shall not be strangers." And just like that, he was gone, leaving Kageyama speechless. Kageyama watched his figure as he bolted of running towards town.

And that's how it had started, an unlikely friendship that took the two by storm. Soon, they were meeting every day in the clearing. They talked about almost everything under the sun. Kageyama always wore his face covering, even in the face of Hinata, asking him every time if he could sneak a peek. All Kageyama told him about his personal life was his first name. He felt guilty about his closed off persona while Hinata had been so open with him about everything. But he had never once felt pushed by Hinata.

Some days they sparred, others they ate together, sometimes even just talked for hours on end.

Kageyama had opened up more over time, not fully but just enough to invite Hinata to his cottage. Where they spend the night awake and talking till sunrise. He had realized how his stomach fluttered, and his heart pounded bidding Hinata goodbye that morning. He had gained a crush on the proud and mighty soldier.

He decided he couldn't continue to keep the truth from him any longer; at this point, it was a lie by omission. He would confess everything when Hinata visited tomorrow.

His palms grew sweaty as he paced around his small living courters, waiting for the object of his affection to arrive. Then the moment came, the orange haired man walked in and before he could even say hello...

"I like you!" Came Kageyama's rushed confession. He had blurted it out of nowhere having rehearsed it in his head over 4000 times.

Hinata was shocked to say the least, but after a second burst out laughing. This pissed of Kageyama to no fucking end. He balled his hands into fists, and waited for Hinata to calm down.

"I'm sorry, it's just-" Another small chuckle escaped him. "Your face, you looked terrified." He finally stopped laughing and took a deep breath in wiping a tear from his eye. He sighed loudly and stalked closer to the fuming Kageyama and wrapped his arms around him, bringing him into a bone crushing hug. Kageyama froze, he had no idea what to do.

"C'mon, you like me, but you can't even hug me back?" Hinatas voice was annoyed and offended. He grumbled and grabbed Kageyama's arms himself and placed them around himself, returning to his prior position. Kageyama let himself sink into it and pulled Hinata closer.

"See doesn't that feel better?" He whispered into Kageyama's neck as one of his hands threaded into the dark overgrown strands on the back of his head.

"Mhmm." Kageyama sighed feeling so at peace in Hinata's arms.

"I like you too, stupid." Hinata said softly after a couple of beats as a gentle smile crossed his features

"I have something to tell you." Kageyama pulled back so he could look into Hinata's eyes properly.

"Ok, what is it?" His bright amber eyes looked up at him questioningly. Kageyama reached back with one hand to pull on the bow on the back of his neck. He untied it, and his face covering fell slack and off his face, revealing his identity.

"You're..." Hinatas eyes widened as realization hit him hard. "The long lost Prince."

"Yes." Kageyama sighed and looked down in shame.

"Is that why you didn't want to show me your face? You thought I would turn you in?" Hinata's soft and gently voice coaxed Kageyama's eyes back up into view. He nodded.

"At first, but then I thought that you wouldn't want anything to do with me. Because it could jeopardize your position in the guard." That could still happen. The little voice in the back of his head said. And he hated to admit it was right. Hinata could just decide that this wasn't worth the risk of losing his lively hood. He know how much Hinata valued his job and he wouldn't ask him to risk it for him.

"Or I could just think that you were ugly." Hinata broke the silence with a laugh. Earning a small smack to the back of the head, with a pointed look.

"I don't! And no I'm not going to turn you in or abandon you." Hinata replied with a giggle hands roaming down Kageyama's arms now, feeling the hard muscle and giving soft squeezes where he felt necessary.

"Thank you." Kageyama said in a soft tone uncharacteristic for him, prompting Hinata to pausing his movements and look up to the dark-haired man in front of him. They both were caught in this eye contact that seemed to engulf them both whole.

Silently, they came closer to one another. Each daring the other to make the first move. It worked appropriately because the next second, Kageyama had crashed thier lips together in a kiss once slow and steady, turning rich and passionate.

They carried on like this for what felt like hours. Lips thrashing and fighting for dominance over the other. Tongues colliding in exploration. Kageyama started pulling at the seamed of Hinata's shirt, as the broke apart, both desperate to be closer than they are.

"Take it off." He said breathlessly, thier mouths still so close as they both pant, still breathless from the kiss.

"What, do you expect me to say 'Yes, your majesty?' Now that I know you're a prince?" Hinata teased unbuttoning his shirt with a wide smile causing a laugh to spill from Kageyama as he started stripping his closed off aswell.

"If that's what you're into, I wouldn't mind." He said once fully undressed, taking a seat next to the fireplace in all its warmth. He watched as Hinata threw all his clothes in one pile and rushed over to him, with a smile. Catching a glimpse of his semi hard cock as it hung between his legs. He wasn't that long but God he was thick.

Kageyama led him to sit on his lap, straddling him so their cocks rested between them.

Wordlessly Hinata took Kageyama's long curved cock in his hand, loving how it feels in his palm. Kageyama groansd at the contact as he pawed at Hinata's hips and ass roughly. Hinata spat into his hand and started to stroke their cocked together in his hand, grinding into the contact further. Kageyama threaded a finger through his orange locks and pulled him closer, reignited the kiss they had shared.

They were both panting, moaning, groaning and whimpering. The sounds of thier passion beat of the walls as the smell of sex filled the room.

The intensity had them both cumming a few minutes later. Both of them breathing heavy. Hinata had a lazy smile on his face as he laughed softly, still dazed. Kageyama out of breath laid down on his back running his hands up and down Hinata's sides.

"Yeah, I'm definitely not going anywhere."

Yeah this has been sitting in my ask box collecting dust for so long, so first I wanna say I'm so sorry for not getting to it sooner.

Anyways I found this super cute and unique.

Thank you for reading!

Requests are open♡

#kageyama smut #kagehina #hq kageyama #haikyuu!!#haikyu smut #haikyū!!#hinata shoyuo #hq hinata #kageyama x hinata #hinata smut #smutty #m/m smut

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