#imagine you're miya and then out of nowhere you hear

[demidin]

reki listening to iwss and then realizing he was rapping it out loud

[gingersnaaps]

ctrl + shift + n

you should always remember to close your tabs - especially your tabs of tumblr smut, and especially around miya atsumu.

wc: 1.6k

tags/tw's(PLEASE READ): explicit n*fw, noncon, fingering, panty gag, finger sucking, condescension, super meta, fem!reader with internal genitals, college!au

a/n: i feel like this has been done before but i’ve had this concept on my mind for a while

i don’t want minors interacting with my content

Miya Atsumu. Star volleyball player at your college. Undeniably talented. Riddled with scholarship offers and professional opportunities. Infuriatingly attractive.

Also: a terrible group project member.

“Just lemme have a look,” he whines, grabbing at your laptop. “It’ll only take a few seconds. Promise.”

It’s a heroic task, ignoring him. It almost takes as much brainpower as doing his portion of the project for him.

Your eye begins to twitch as his perfectly-filed fingernails intrude at the edge of your screen, obscuring part of the slide you’d been working on. Technically, he should have been the one doing them, but as much of a genius as he may be at volleyball(this fact was grudgingly admitted after you’d watched him play once), he was utterly useless when it came to anatomy and physiology.

And you really, really, needed to end the semester without failing.

The cool metal of the laptop slips out of your grasp, and you roll your eyes so hard that you think they might get stuck in your head.

“Just wanted to see what you’d been workin’ on,” Atsumu says sheepishly. He’s sitting at the opposite end of your couch, legs kicked up and crossed on the coffee table, and the bright screen disappears from view as he begins clicking through the slideshow. “Not bad,” he muses. He presses a few more keys.

His face suddenly changes, a brow quirking as his eyes darken.

“What?” you snap. “Should’ve done it yourself earlier if there’s something you don’t like.”

He jumps slightly, startled by your harsh reaction. “No,” he says quickly. Too quickly. “It’s good. I like it.”

One more thing to note about Miya Atsumu, you thought to yourself: he was probably terrible at poker.

He returns the laptop to you, as promised, and hums idly as you resume working. The two of you sit in silence, but it’s not exactly comfortable - after the awkward exchange, there’s a layer of tension that hangs thick and heavy in the air. The air conditioning drones on in the background, like white noise meant to soothe, but it worms its way into your conscious mind and sits there, just noticeable enough to be irritating. Aside from that, it’s quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

Of course, he’s the one to break the silence.

“Didn’t know you were into that kinda’ stuff.”

You freeze.

“Didn’t think that a girl like you would ever be lookin’ at something so messed up.”

Panic clenches at your stomach, and you reply carefully, voice measured and cold. “What are you talking about?”

“Should really be more careful about which tabs you leave open,” he chuckles.

You scan the cluttered row of tabs at the top; there’s nothing missing. Your eyes dart around the screen frantically -

There’s an incognito window open along your taskbar.

“Rough sex, violent sex, rape? Jesus christ, sweetheart.”

You click nervously, and on the screen, clear as day, is the fic you’d been reading earlier that morning. It’s one of the blogs you frequent - normally one of your favorite places to scroll through after a nasty day - but right now, it seems almost sinister, black font on a white background staring back accusingly as your skin prickles under his gaze. You swallow; a heavy, sinking feeling squeezes at your chest, closes up your throat, makes you feel like you’re dry drowning.

He grabs the laptop back. He’s sitting a lot closer now.

“I mean, just look at this shit. You really want this, huh?”

“No, I- I don’t.” Your voice sounds foreign, far away - you feel like you’re underwater, and your denial sounds guilty even to your own ears.

His lips graze your ear, the warmth of his body spreading to yours as he slides an arm around waist.

“If you wanted to be raped, angel,” he whispers, a terrifying grin stretched wide across his face. “All you had to do was ask.”

He laughs at his clever little joke, and pulls you onto his lap.

You feel numb, paralyzed, unable to fight back or move at all as his hands glide along your inner thighs, kneading the soft, puffy, flesh, spreading them apart until you’re straddling his lap. He pulls your hair to one side and starts kissing along your jaw, rough and sloppy, sharp teeth nipping at the underside of your jaw as you shiver.

He punctuates his words with a harsh squeeze to your thigh, thumb brushing dangerously close to your cunt. “I bet you were getting off t’ this, weren’t you?” he hisses. “Bet you were just dripping down your thighs, squirmin’ around ‘n moaning, fantasizing about some scary man who just takes what he wants.”

The dull, pained, look in your eyes reads like defeat to him, sending a thrill of pleasure through his veins. He’s right, isn’t he? He’s fuckn’ spot on about your little habits, your little fantasies, and he’s gonna make sure that all your dreams come true.

“Let’s do this exactly how it’s written out, how’s that sound? Follow along with your cute story ‘nd everything,” he muses, scrolling down the page. “Starts out with her - you - getting fingerfucked.”

It’s as if those words break some sort of dam inside you, a flurry of tears and sobs heaving out of your chest as his fingers trail up to your clothed clit. You squirm back and forth in his lap, ass rutting against his hardening cock. “Don’t want it,” you whimper. “Don’t make me. Please.”

“Playin’ along, angel? That’s cute.”

He peels your skirt off of you, thumbs hooking around the waistband of your panties as he pulls them off and stuffs them in your mouth. You can taste yourself on the damp fabric that clings to the roof of your mouth, spit soaking through as your whines and protests become muffled.

Fingers spread your pussy apart, sliding and squelching embarrassingly in the slick, your skin cold and exposed in the open air. As he rests his thumb lightly on your clit, he quirks his lips at the way your heartbeat thrums in your cunt, your pussy twitching as you clench around nothing.

Best part is that you like this, that you're turned on by this, he thinks. The fat, silvery, tears streaming down your face mean absolutely nothing when you’re so obviously into it.

He thrusts a long, thick, finger in, all the way to the last knuckle, the calloused pad of his fingertip brushing up against your spongy walls as your pussy contracts and squeezes him tight. “So eager,” he coos. “It’s jus’ like you always imagined, huh?”

You sniffle as the outline of his cock presses into your ass, rutting his hips against you and moaning from the delicious friction of the fabric. There’s nowhere for you to go, one large hand squeezing your waist and holding you down, the other fucking you backwards into his broad chest.

He crooks his finger; you sob, body drawn taught with pleasure, and he pushes another inside as you spasm. He’s good with his hands, unfairly good, his thumb nudging against your sweet clit in circles as his fingers scissor your walls and stretch you out so good. It’s as if you’re his little puppet, jerking around whenever he drags his fingers roughly against your g-spot, crying out through your stuffed mouth as blunt teeth sink into your neck and his tongue runs along the ridge of your ear.

“You’re makin’ a mess, pretty girl,” he murmurs, watching in delight as you flush with shame. “Dripping into my palm and all down your thighs, just like the girl in the story.”

You turn your head, trying to look away, but he grabs at the hinge of your jaw and forces you to meet his gaze. It’s taunting, cruel - he looks so pleased with himself as he fingers you until your thighs start trembling, walls clenching erratically as pleasure builds and builds.

His grip on your face turns tight, pressing bruises into your skin as you cream and gush around his thick digits. The orgasm crashes down on you in waves of pleasure, his fingers fucking you through it with constant probing and circling and stimulation.

His nimble fingers pluck the panties from your mouth, soaked with drool, and tosses them aside onto the floor. “Open up,” he says, prying at your mouth.

Your jaw goes slack, falling open, too tired to put up a fight as he shoves his fingers in. You’re not sure there’s much of a point. You suck sloppily, tongue laving around his digits, cleaning your cum off of him as he shoves his hand in deeper, making you gag and retch, and he moans loudly at the sight. You look so perfect - his precious little angel choking on his fingers, eyes watering and body trembling as you do everything he makes you.

You’re shivering when he withdraws his fingers with a pop.

He helps you put your clothes back on, wet panties sliding across your skin and leaving trails of shining slick. It sticks and clings to your pussy, makes you feel all filthy and used, and bile rises in your throat. Goosebumps ripple down your thigh at the sensation of cool air.

Atsumu nuzzles at your neck, fingers patting at your spent pussy, his tenderness almost mocking, and clicks back to the slideshow you’d been working on.

“Let’s save the cock for after you get us the A, hmm?”

[215-luv]

hi hi, can i request something? atsumu, suna and iwa when their s/o says something like "you're really pretty" out of nowhere maybe? im convinced i'd call them pretty boy if they were real

ATSUMU, SUNA AND IWAIZUMI WHEN THEIR S/O CALLS THEM PRETTY

miya atsumu

“aren’t you my pretty boy~”

atsumu’s confidence went higher than earth’s atmosphere

HE’S BLUSHINGGGGGGGGG

the sparks come out of his eyes the moment he hears those words coming out from your lips

“b-baby.. you called me.. pretty??????!!!”

jumps into your arms in an instant

then he continuously nuzzles his face against the crook of your neck

he’s loving it too much omfg atsumu is basically going feral

you DON’T KNOW how happy you just made him!!

“that’s right baby! i’m always your pretty boy...!!!!”

suna rintaro

“you’re so pretty, baby~”

*blushing intensifies*

suna.exe has stopped functioning

he literally went baisjwkoskwkdkekxkwjjzajxnnejxnrkcjrncnrjxjejjxjdncjr

he’ll be super clingy with you omg

he would follow you around without detaching his lil grip on your shirt

then he has his usual pout and soft gaze on you

he’s so cute :((

imagine a tall ass scary middle blocker trailing you around like a lost puppy

that’s what exactly suna is looking like rn

“i’m always your pretty baby.”

iwaizumi hajime

“hajimeee~ my pretty boy~”

you’re literally calling him that with his teammates surrounding him in the gym

you just made your boyfriend blush like a maniac

tho he’s awfully being teased, his mind still drifts off somewhere else

^^obviously replaying those words you just said

hes like, “YOU JUST DID NOT-“

but naaaah, his expression says otherwise, clearly bothered and flustered by it

lowkey wants you to call him pretty boy all the damn time

“i-i.. actually liked that..”

“like what??”

he grunts, “the one where you.. call me.. that”

“..eehh?? call you wha-“

“JUST PLEASE CALL ME PRETTY BOY AGAIN GODAMMIT”

[iwagfreal]

cigarettes, sex, and osamu.

tags: osamu x fem!reader + smoking + smut + dirty talk + balcony sex + lowkey public sex + shotgun word count: 2k

[not proofread so excuse the mistakes]

"you still smoke here?" you couragely ask as you approach the gray-haired bloke who's leaning on the wall, a stick of lit cigarette in between his fingers.

he looks at your direction and a smirk appears on his lips. "and here i thought you wouldn't come back," he utters before he takes a puff of his almost finished-off cig. you situated yourself, beside him and fished out the marlboro box from your pocket to take a stick.

to be honest, you didn't really know this guy beside you. it was just one night after getting kicked out of your place's rooftop for smoking that you had to find a new place to take a drag. and here you found a guy at the back of a high-end restaurant, always has his back rested on the wall and taking in three sticks and a piece of menthol candy before he decides he's had enough.

for weeks, you just smoke with him at 10 pm in this place, exchanging smiles and a the littlest bit of small talk. but that was all before you decided to stop smoking, which, of course was a blatant failure considering you're back in that place again.

"fuck, i forgot my lighter," you huff with the cig in between your lips. the guy immediately moves to whip out a lighter from his jeans' back pocket and lit your cigarette that was still on your mouth without even saying a word.

"thanks..." you say as you take a drag, the last syllable hanging as if you were asking for his name.

"osamu. osamu miya," he says in a low voice. he moves a little so the light from a lamp post kind of illuminated his face for a second and it made your breath hitch. god was he attractive, why did you notice this just now?

"wait... miya? as in onigiri miya?" you immediately ask as you point at the restaurant place at your back, "you own this place?"

he clears his throat and flicks the empty cig to the bin beside him before he answers, "well, yeah. i'm the head chef."

you were embarrassed to say the least, as you realize that you've been smoking in a private property, and you have the nerve to smoke with the owner himself, not even daring to ask for permission whatsoever. but all of this clouded by the thought that damn he cooks? how attractive is that shit?

"you're probably thinking you're not supposed to be here, aren't you?" he says, both his hands on his pocket, not looking at you. you nod in agreement, a little voice in your head telling you to just finish off your cig, apologize to him for trespassing and walk away. but your body won't let you. so you just stand there, cigarette still lit, in between you fingers.

"it's fine, i don't really mind having an eye candy at the end of a stressful day," he says while he crosses his arm in front of his chest. you look to your side and ogle at his biceps bulging out of his too-tight black.

"thanks, i also don't mind having something good to look at while i take a drag." you answer back, not knowing where the sudden confidence is coming from. you take a step closer to him until both your arms are touching, sending goosebumps to your entire body.

"i'm y/n, by the way. glad i failed at trying to stop smoking," you joke and he chuckles lightly, making something inside you tingle. even his laugh is beguiling, seriously, does this man even have a physical flaw?

"nice to meet you, y/n." he takes a step to face you and skillfully grabbed the cigarette on your lips before putting it in between his. he takes a puff and blew it on your agape mouth, taking you by surprise.

you feel your cheeks burning up after you realize what osamu just did. was that even considered a shotgun? that was so hot. your mind was still short-circuiting when you hear a low chuckle coming from the man in front of you. "sorry, got a little carried away." he says and looks directly onto your eyes, you notice that his pupils are dilated.

he doesn't give you back your cigarette though, he takes another puff and kept it in between his fingers. he's still smirking at you, as if letting you make the next move. so you do, thinking, fuck everything else, you grabbed the back of his nape and pushed it towards your face, crashing your lips together.

the taste of menthol and cigarettes all mixing together as he starts to suck on your mouth, his free hand placed on your waist while his tongue adeptly lick your lips, asking for a chance to enter. you gape your mouth to admit his wet tongue. osamu explores your mouth so good, he tilts his head from time to time to go back to sucking and then licking your mouth. and god does it feel so good, it feels illegal.

he takes a step to guide you, your back feeling the coldness of the wall where he pins and keeps you in place. he breaks the kiss and places the cigarette on your mouth while he drops a kiss to your exposed neck. once he feels you've taken a proper drag, he removes the cig on your mouth and drops it on the floor. he stomps on it and goes back to kissing you.

he sucks the smoke from your mouth and takes a deep breath as he inhales it. you feel a smirk growing in his mouth before he lets out a low laugh and moves back an inch, your mouth meeting air.

"you wanna take this somewhere else, y/n?" his hand placed on the wall beside your head, his eyes filled with lust. "i have a place upstairs," he adds while he looks up the building behind the two of you.

you take all your courage in your body to nod and he immediately grabs your hand at this and drag you to his place.

you didn't even have the chance to appreciate the design of his flat before osamu is kissing you senseless once again. he moves his hands to remove your jacket and the sudden feel of cold air sent goosebumps to your body once again.

he snakes a hand on your waist before he casually lifts you, you let out small gasp before you hook your legs on both sides of his waist. osamu hugs your entire lower torso, making sure you're holding on there tightly before he starts walking.

you open your eyes for a second and realize that he's walking you both to the balcony of his flat. and fuck, the thought of him fucking you while someone could be watching sends shivers to your spine already from excitement.

he loosens his grip on your torso as he lets you down, your bare feet touching the cold tiles of the balcony. he doesn't let your lips go though, he kept kissing and sucking at your lips until he felt breathless.

he holds your shoulders and made you turn your back on him, he scoops some of your hair with his hand and leaves a soft kiss on your exposed neck. "want me to fuck you while people can watch, hmm?" he asks, his voice rough and thick.

you moan in agreement and place you hands on the railings. you bend backward and arch your back so your ass is directly touching his semi hard on. you lustfully look back at him from your shoulders and say, "fuck me good and your neighbors will know your name."

his raises his eyebrows at your taunting and his hands immediately flies to the waistbands of your jeans, he pulls them down in one go, leaving you only in your lace underwear that leaves nothing to the imagination. your toes curl at the sudden gush of cold wind touches your skin but osamu is kneeling in no time, kneading your butt cheeks while mouthing at your still-clothed pussy.

"fuck, you don't know how long i've thought about this," he says as a squeezes your left butt cheek significantly harder. "don't know how much i missed you when you suddenly stopped coming to the that spot, our spot."

he leaves a kiss on your ass cheek and softly bites it for good measure which made your grip on the railings tighten. he takes his one hand and undos his belt, pulling his jeans down and exposing his cock.

osamu leans down, his cock perfectly resting on your ass and you can feel how heavy and thick he is. he was lengthy enough but his girth was the highlight of it, you think to yourself. he snakes his hand under your shirt and grabbed both your boobs, massaging it while his fingers play with your nipples.

you were getting wetter by the second, his now fully hard dick just on your ass and nowhere near your hole where you want it to be is driving you mad. so you try to take matters in your own hands and reach for his cock from your behind.

"getting restless, hmm? want me to fuck you now? without prep?"

"osamu," you whine as you grind your ass on his crotch.

"okay, baby. i'm gonna stretch you out real good." he sneered as he holds his cock in his one hand and the other moving your panties to the side. his dick prodding at your wet entrance made your go your mind turn into a puddle of goo. when the tip is finally in, you both let out a moan, you because of the sudden stretch and him because you're wrapping around him so got.

osamu bottoms out in no time, your heat covering his entire cock and all he could do was groan in pleasure. he grabs your waist and pull himself out until only the tip was inside, then he slams back in. the hard impact of his thrust sent your body bucking onto the railings, your boobs hitting the glass that's keeping you from falling from the 26th floor of the building.

he picks up his pace and doesn't stop his relentless pounding, his hips thrusting into you perfectly, filling you up with his fat cock so good that your brain is fogging with pure bliss.

"look below you, y/n. do you think the people downstairs can see you?" he pulls out then slams back in, "you think they know you're getting absolutely railed by me, huh? when all they could see is someone who's probably enjoying the view."

"little do they know i have the best view right here," he add and bucks his hips forward, hitting a spot that gets him a loud moan from you. "fuuck, i'm close, samu."

osamu's hips stutter at this and he lets out a low grunt. he wraps his arm around your waist and grabs your entire body that your hands had to let go of the railings. he moves to sit both of you down on the floor, his cock still never leaving your hole.

he lays both of you down, you on his chest with your thighs on his legs and his back on the cold tiles. he plants his feet on the floor and a beat doesn't even pass until he's fucking into you again.

his hands grab at your waist to keep you in place above his cock. you were cumming in no time from the unabated thrusting of osamu's dick into you and him continuously hitting the spot that sends you into frenzy.

your legs were still shaking when osamu pulled out of you as he gasps while spurts of his cum fly onto your stomach and thighs. you stay like that for a minute, gasping for air and still reeling from the feeling being fucked out of your minds.

"i'm going to stop smoking," you say out of nowhere and he laughs at this and asks "why?"

"i think i just found me a new vice." you say with a smile on your face.

[atsumumiyasimpgirltm]

Driver’s License- (Atsumu Miya x F!Reader)

Pairings: Atsumu Miya x F!reader

Warnings: mentions of smoking, language

Genre: Angst

Type: Songfic

Word Count: 2972

A/N:  I totally didn’t write this for myself no way self indulgence wHO’s thAT??? Maybe I’ll write a part 2

Song: Driver’s License- Olivia Rodrigo

-----------------------------------------------------

I got my driver's license last week

You had turned 16 a week before, and had gotten your driver’s license the day after. At the DMV, you took your photo, smiling through your pain like you always did, because you were a good girl, weren’t you? You didn’t get mad, or cry over stupid things, no, not you. 

Just like we always talked about

You remembered the late night sleepovers when you were kids, talking about what high school would be like, and making up funny scenarios based on the movies you saw on the television. It was during one of those late nights when Atsumu had asked, “do you love me?” and patiently waited for an answer.

'Cause you were so excited for me

He was older than you, and he always boasted about being able to drive before you. You always rolled your eyes and laughed, texting him to ask for a ride somewhere or to just pick you up so you could sit in the car and talk.

To finally drive up to your house

Atsumu swore to you that the day you got your driver’s license, you’d go somewhere together. Maybe find an empty highway and cruise for a while, going nowhere just to ease the stress off. Maybe it’d be a mini one day road trip, and you could hit all the spots that you had been to as kids. You could be kids again, just for a little bit.

But today I drove through the suburbs

He swore, he crossed his heart, he promised, but when you texted him to inform him of the news, he texted back with a simple “I’m busy,” breaking the illusion that you held on your friendship with him.

Crying 'cause you weren't around

Devastated, you got into your car and fulfilled the promise yourself, aimlessly driving through your neighborhood, no destination in mind. It was no empty highway, but it numbed the shock that you felt.

And you're probably with that blonde girl

Later, he texted saying he was with someone, and you immediately knew, it was that girl. The one who was so pretty, the one who everyone adored or admired, the one who no one could say a single negative thing about, because anything negative was automatically spun into a compliment. Atsumu had talked about her once or twice, saying that they did things together on the weekends.

Who always made me doubt

You used to be acquainted  with her, and she repeatedly insisted that ‘You and Atsumu would look so cute together.’ For a girl a year older than you to say that? It gave you reason, reason to think that maybe he’d want you. There was always something off about her, she was too sweet to be real, too perfect. Who would have guessed that she was a backstabbing bitch? But you couldn’t even say that out loud could you? Because if you did, everyone would tell you ‘she knows what she wants’ or ‘she’s ambitious and is willing to take necessary steps to get to her goals.’ 

She's so much older than me

In the year above you, she was a second year when you and Atsumu were in your first. It was a wonder how he ever met her in the first place, he never accelerated any classes. Maybe it was fate bringing them together, as many would say. Or maybe, it wasn’t fate for them to be together, but fate punishing you for being too passive, too much of a watcher.

She's everything I'm insecure about

She was tall, she had long unmarked legs and clear skin. A small waist and big eyes ringed a shifting color with brown in the center. Every time you saw her, you wanted to put her disgustingly pretty face into the floor for being everything you were not, for giving you just an ounce of hope and then taking it away. 

Yeah, today I drove through the suburbs

You needed to clear your head again. Still sitting on the hope that maybe, just maybe, Atsumu would realize she wasn’t for him, 

You started the car, senses perking up. The engine was loud, and drowned out your thoughts, the inside of the car smelled like mints, and the leather of the steering wheel cover was rough under your hands. 

'Cause how could I ever love someone else?

Driving in the direction of Atsumu’s home, you slowed when you saw his porch light on, grateful that the tint on your windows concealed you from any onlookers. 

And I know we weren't perfect

When you slowed at the curb opposite to his house, you saw Atsumu and the girl, sitting on plastic chairs, laughing about something, and smoking menthols. The girl pulled the rolled piece of paper from her mouth with French manicured nails, and placed her hand on his arm. He beamed, at the physical contact. Whether it was from the buzz the nicotine gave him or her you would never know. A sour taste, not too far from the taste of smoke, filled your mouth. Since when did he do illegal things?

But I've never felt this way for no one

The girl’s head raised, and she whispered something to Atsumu. He looked across the street at your car, making accidental eye contact- not that he knew-  through the driver’s side window. For a second, you watched him through the glass, contemplating whether or not to get out to confront him.

And I just can't imagine

Atsumu cocked his head to the side, most likely in recognition of your car, but if he wanted to communicate, he didn’t do so, instead turning back to the girl and reassuring her that “It’s nothing.” Ignoring the warnings from your parents telling you not to drive in platform shoes, you turned the car from your parallel parked position on the curb, and floored the gas pedal as hard as you could, escaping off of Atsumu’s street before the tears came. 

How you could be so okay now that I'm gone

The next day at school, you walked up to the roof, expecting Atsumu to be waiting with Osamu and Aran like he usually was. That was your routine, the routine you had formed back in elementary school, and had followed every single day since then. Every single day but today and the days to follow, because when you ascended the stairs to the roof, you spotted Atsumu and the girl, deep in conversation about something, Osamu and Aran nowhere in sight.  You felt yourself being torn apart as you watched their interactions, so effortless and easy despite having only met a couple weeks prior to this event. A feat that took you months of talking with Atsumu to get. Rage filled every crevice in your body, and it pulsed through your arteries. It was being pumped by your heart, and soon, you were so filled with it that with all the strength you had, threw your bento box straight between them.

Guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me

They looked up at you, conversation having been stopped by your projectile bento box, and after registering the disturbance, both glared at you. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fucking fair. For this girl to come and take everything from you, your best friend, your closest friend, it wasn’t fair for her to come and break all the promises that you and Atsumu had made.

'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

“So much for ‘friends forever!’” You angrily folded your arms, taking a final look at them before turning yourself around and untucking your shirt to wipe away tears. 

“What’s her problem?” You heard in a condescending high pitched voice. 

A scoff and then, in a much deeper voice:  “She’s just pissed about a promise we made when we were kids.”

You ran as far as you possibly could from them, and tried to find your other friends, your real  friends. 

And all my friends are tired

Entering the cafeteria, you found Osamu and Aran at a table in the cafeteria, most likely having been exiled by Atsumu to accommodate for his new friend. Seeing that you had no lunch, Osamu pushed an onigiri towards you, and Aran offered you half of an apple. They both looked at you with pity.

Of hearing how much I miss you

You spent that entire lunch talking about how much Atsumu’s new ‘just friend’ pissed you off. You talked about how much she angered you, how she was too perfect, how she was a bad influence on him, and how with her, you were always going to be the villain, the person who was keeping them apart, and the second place.

But I kinda feel sorry for them

Aran and Osamu, being the good listeners they were, ate up your words, and didn’t disregard a thing you had said. They didn’t tell you that she was ‘ambitious’ or ‘doing what she knew she had to do,’ they didn’t tell you to stop being oversensitive or that people come and go, They just sat and listened to you, and when it was over, patted your back and fed you lies about how “Everything is going to be okay.”

'Cause they'll never know you the way that I do, yeah

But nothing would be okay, not as long as Atsumu and the pretty blonde girl were together, Neither Aran nor Osamu knew the Atsumu you knew, the one who would call at midnight asking if you wanted to go to Walmart, the one who would drop everything he was doing to hang out with you. The Atsumu that was gone now all because of one person.

Today I drove through the suburbs

After school that same day, you waited until the sun was on the horizon, painting the sky around you pretty pinks and oranges, a contrast to the way you were feeling. You sat on your curb until you felt the time was right, then, you got into your car and drove to one of the only places you had ever felt safe.

And pictured I was driving home to you

And maybe it wasn’t the place, but the person who made it a safe space, because when you pulled into the street, seeing the familiar glow of porch lights, the sound of loud laughter, and the minty smell of menthol- different from the smell in your car, you were brought back to that night, and immediately wanted to turn back and drive anywhere but here.

And I know we weren't perfect

Ignoring the bad feeling that surrounded your mind, you slowly drove through the street, pulling into your spot on the opposite sidewalk curb.

But I've never felt this way for no one

Just in time to observe the silence that fell between the pair. This was it! This was when Atsumu realized that she wasn’t the one! Everything would be fixed now, and you could all go back to the way it was the before, the normal way, the better way.

And I just can't imagine

You leaned your arm against the window, and stoically watched the girl lean back into her chair. Atsumu did the opposite, and leaned forward. 

How you could be so okay now that I'm gone

He kissed the girl, and suddenly, you couldn’t hear anything. Not the soft music playing in your car, nor the buzzing of the street light. The only thing you heard was ringing, an alarm telling you your time was up. Vision filling with tears, the same taste from the last incident filled your mouth.

I guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me

Just like last time, you pulled off the curb, but Atsumu and the girl were too entranced with each other to notice. The joints on your knuckles turned white from your too tight grip on the wheel, and your eyes stung. You drove as fast as you could to nowhere.

'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

Every morning while driving to school, you had to drive past his house. Involuntarily, your grip around the steering wheel always tightened when you passed the sign, and you would relax after you had passed it.

Red lights, stop signs

In his car, you’d always play red light games, seeing who could memorize the most license plates from the last light, or who had the stupidest bumper sticker. When driving, you hated the red lights, you hated every second that you had to wait for them to turn green, every second that reminded you of the tragedy you had witnessed in this very seat.

I still see your face in the white cars, front yards

Every white vehicle that passed by reminded you of him and his car. Regardless if it was a sports car or not, you always watched it until it passed out of your sight and turned the street’s corner, because you had to hope that maybe it was Atsumu, coming back to you.

Can't drive past the places we used to go to

You tried to sit down at the children’s park, at the top of the slide, another one of your safe spaces. It felt empty without your best friend at your side, and that same day, you saw Atsumu and the girl walking towards it. How could he have done that? How could he have the sacred space that you two had shared since you were kids with this outsider, because that’s all she would ever be to you. Needless to say, you left quickly, before you could be seen, and didn’t come back to the park again.

'Cause I still fuckin' love you, babe 

It was so painfully obvious that you were in love with Atsumu, that you still were. Everytime his name was mentioned, a salty look crossed your face, and you made a great effort to change the topic, taking leaps and bounds to avoid him, and when you could, ignoring him in favor of talking to Aran and Osamu.

Sidewalks we crossed

Even getting drinks at the 7-Eleven was painful. Every crosswalk and curb had a story revolving around the two of you, your entire friendship’s history could be traced here, and now, it was all gone with no one to remember it, because Atsumu had found someone else, and you were left in too much pain to even try.

I still hear your voice in the traffic

As you walked, you touched every light pole and stopped at every spot on the sidewalk that you had a memory on. You reaccounted the stories, the memories, the past, and tried to get lost in the good so you could push away the bad.

We're laughing over all the noise

Noise coming from a group of young teens, probably first years, entered your ears. It was loud, boisterous laughter, the type that you and Atsumu had shared outside this very 7-Eleven over the course of many years.

God, I'm so blue, know we're through

And as you walked into the small store and filled your Slurpee, you looked down at the tiled floor, a stain from where Atsumu had accidentally opened and spilled an entire hair dye packet. The dread that you had been suppressing came back in a wave, crashing over you.

But I still fuckin' love you, babe 

You exited the store with your Slurpee, drinking it slowly through the straw. The walk from the parking lot to the sidewalk felt longer than it ever had, even though it was only five seconds. Too many memories in this very place, and not nearly enough time.

I know we weren't perfect

What had you done wrong? It must have been something, because good things happen to people who do things right. If you do things right, you’ll get what you want, always, right?

But I've never felt this way for no one

But you hadn’t calculated for one factor: The perfect girl with the perfect life. The girl who had everything you didn’t, who was everything you were not. And even though you had done everything correct, she had ruined everything.

And I just can't imagine

Walking home, you stopped briefly at Atsumu’s street sign like you always did when walking this way, but unlike the other days, you had never thought of going back. It had always seemed like an impossible option for you, too much to bear for your fragile mind.

How you could be so okay now that I'm gone

Your hands shook as you held your Slurpee in your hands, either from the coldness around you or from the tears that threatened to ruin you. You didn’t get cold often, so of course you knew the answer to that question. 

Guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me

Looking down the street you saw the same porch light on, and the same sounds and smells you always got when you had passed by in recent times: Loud laughter and menthol. 

'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

You wished that you had told him “yes” that night at the sleepover. Maybe you could have avoided the heartbreak, and maybe he could have too, but all you had told him was that you’d be friends no matter what, too scared to tell him that you were most definitely in love with him. Or maybe you didn’t know, a childish mind unable to identify the feeling. It didn’t matter now, all you and he had done was stick out your pinkies to solidify the promise- “Friends forever.”

Yeah, you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

You crossed the street, traveling away from the laughter and menthol, away from your supposed forever, and didn’t look back.

[darkatsumu]

I'm a creative person, an artiste if you will, so imagine the delight on my face when I saw Onigiri Miya, one of the MOST famous and world renowned restaurants looking for a fashion designer. For what exactly I do not know, but they mentioned fashion, and who better for the job than moi, the BEST designer you will ever find.

Never in my life have I grabbed my laptop that quick and carefully punched in a few details, pouring out my soul into the application, sending off a couple of my precious designs and lookbooks. Why do you think you're the best for the job? Think? What do you mean think darling?? I KNOW I'm the best person for the job. Onigiri Miya would be lucky to have me.

So, from my exuberant confidence you can probably infer that I wasnt suprised when I got an email back from OMAH a couple of days later. Me being called for an interview was inevitable.

But what does the AH stand for? Never have I heard of Onigiri Miya being referred to as OMAH. OM for short yes, but OMAH?? No, unheard of. Strange. Maybe it's just an error? Hmmm. An amateur move on Miya's behalf if I do say so myself. Not to worry, with me on the team they'll thrive and it'll only be going up from there on.

It doesnt matter though. Now that I've gotten an interview and I'm confident I'll get the job. I better start choosing the decor for my office. I'm thinking something rich, something classy, something that screams sophisticated bitch. But I digress.

Odd. They've invited me to a secret location, nowhere near the main headquarters. Should I be worried? Am I being kidnapped or murdered? Well if I am, I better be dressed for the occasion. A cream silk bra with a matching oversized blazer, and cuffed light khaki trousers. A little (well, more than a little) bit of cleavàge never hurt anyone.

...

What exactly happened inside the secret location I cannot speak of. What was said, I cannot mention and what I saw definitely cannot be disclosed.

What I can say though is that I got the job.

And that I finally realised what the AH stood for.

My skills will finally be put to good use. Because you've been such dear, listening to me ramble on and on, I'll give you a hint as to what I've been tasked with... Well it's more than hint if I'm being honest, but I'm feeling generous today. Uniforms.

That's all from me lovely, I'm a busy busy person with a busy busy schedule, especially since I work on both the AH and the public side of OM, so I'll catch up with you later.

Bye bye now, stay safe would you darling, for me. Oh and dont forget to drink water, its where your creative juices get their brilliance from.

-🐹

Upset, definitely, gonna back down, nope! Miya Atsumu has some pointers for the uniforms that he declares he’s the original creator for. He calls himself a designer for slapping the name on the t-shirt. So when he hears his own brother has hired a designer, he finds himself constantly bugging you, constantly vying for your attention, seeking opposing views on your designs like a little child throwing a temper tantrum. dear lord, someone knock some sense into him. 

“It’d look a lot better don’t you think?” He stares at your design, “If the neckline was just more plunging.”