#miya twins text posts | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

everrinsly · 11 days ago

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a/n; I wish i could get a glimpse of precious suna's insta haha, thank you for reading!! this one also kind of long but it's my rambles I can't help it hahah

blurred lines, best friend vibes.

white heart with suna. fluff. fem!reader. | not proofread.

a deep dive into suna's instagram highlights, featuring “🤍” (it's you).

more suna here! and more sugar from suna here!

more reads!

જ⁀🏐🖤📱

Suna’s Instagram is just too good.

Like, objectively. It’s irritating.

Clean lines, muted colors, photo dumps that feel like poetry—just the right balance of white space and warmth, black and tan filters that make every frame look like it's stolen from an editorial spread.

The man doesn’t post often, but when he does, it’s always a little too perfect.

Even his stupid Highlights have a theme.

જ⁀🏐🖤📱

One for EJP Raijin—⚡—a perfect mix of sweat-slick intensity and that curated brand of cool.

It opens with dim-lit gym clips, the floor gleaming under floodlights, volleyballs spinning in slow motion. You can hear the faint squeak of sneakers, the low thud of spikes, voices echoing in rhythm.

There’s a shot of Komori’s Super Receive—text overlaid in lowercase white: gravity’s got nothing on him—as he flings himself across the court, arms outstretched, hair a blur.

Then comes Washio's Wall, an iconic mid-air shot where Washio blocks a spike so clean you’d think the footage was rendered.

And of course, the post-win shots.

Suna never posts them first. He lets them sneak in at the end—blurry, slightly sun-soaked, a slow pan across the locker room with half-laughed victory shouts. Jerseys peeled halfway down chests, bandages loose on knuckles, every player glistening with sweat and smugness.

There’s one frame that stays longer than it should: Suna leaning against the lockers, hair damp, chain sticking to his collarbone, lips barely parted in a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

Just enough to drive his followers crazy.

Just enough to drive you crazy.

જ⁀🏐🖤📱

The next for Fam—🏡—soft, warm, and quiet in a way that feels like a relaxing exhale.

He rarely shows it, but you know he adores them.

There’s a shot from his sister’s graduation, her in cap and gown, Suna ducking low to fit into frame, one arm slung around her shoulder and the other holding a mini bouquet of sunflowers.

Another of his mom’s cooking—steam rising off a clay pot, and in the background, Suna’s hand stealing a piece of pork belly, caught mid-motion.

And then there’s the rare, grainy video of him playing volleyball in the yard with his dad, both barefoot in the grass, the Aichi landscape stretching out wide behind them—golden fields, an overcast sky, the kind of silence that settles in your bones.

But your favorite, easily, is the one from his birthday.

He’s sitting on the couch, hoodie loose, hair fluffy and unstyled, and his sister and mom are on either side of him, both leaning in to press the cutest, most affectionate kisses to his cheeks. Suna’s eyes are closed, lips tugged up in the softest, sleepiest grin, like he’s trying not to melt and failing miserably.

You’re pretty sure it’s his favorite, too.

He never takes it off. It just… lives there. Quiet and safe. Like family.

જ⁀🏐🖤📱

The third is Crew—📸—the one with all the chaos.

It’s the messiest, most unfiltered highlight on his page, and somehow, it still fits his aesthetic. Warm-toned mayhem. Candid disasters. A side of faint laughter in the background.

There’s a special brand of Miya Twin Madness—Atsumu in a yakiniku restaurant, mid-air tossing a grape that Osamu is 100% not ready to catch. The next clip? Osamu side-eying him from across the table, lips tight, the unmistakable expression of someone who’s already done with the night.

Gin’s gym students make frequent appearances, cartwheeling across hardwood floors while Suna films from the bleachers, monotone voice narrating like he’s on a nature documentary.

Sometimes, there are glimpses of his senpais.

A low-lit clip of late-night ramen with Aran, both of them slouched in a booth, soup steaming, the table messy with napkins and empty bottles.

A wholesome cut of Suna helping Akagi’s PE students learn how to spike, wearing a whistle he definitely stole from Gin.

A stupid blurry selfie from an airport bathroom mirror captioned: will i get caught if i take 20 tubes of wasabi to tokyo lol @ renomimi.

(Ren later responds: Yes. Don’t call me to bail you out, @ sunarin.)

And then there’s the rarest gem of all: Suna in the countryside, visiting Kita.

The clip is quiet—green stretching as far as the eye can see, sky low and heavy with summer.

Suna’s wearing a bucket hat and glaring at his phone camera he handed to Kita to pan around. Sweat drips down his temple, sleeves rolled up, hands in the soil.

The caption reads simply: captain said it was gonna take 2 hrs max. been here 4.5. send help.

But Kita makes sure the camera lingers just long enough for you to catch the tiniest smile tugging at the edge of Suna’s lips.

Somehow, even here—in all this chaos—he always makes room for softness. Always makes space for the people who feel like home.

જ⁀🏐🖤📱

And then there's the fourth.

Just a single emoji: 🤍

No name.

But it's you.

It’s always been you.

It's the softest highlight on his entire page—intimate in ways no one else would even notice.

A quiet boomerang of you twirling in his jersey and a miniskirt on one of his game days, shy smile on your face. The clip is cut just before you reach up to fix your hair.

He takes it that morning, right before leaving for the match.

You come out of your room wearing his jersey—oversized, soft, hanging off one shoulder—and a little black skirt that makes your legs look longer than they are. You’re fidgeting, pulling at the hem, clearly unsure if it’s too much. But Suna looks up from tying his shoes, pauses, and just stares.

Then, flat as ever, he says, “Do a spin.”

You blink at him. “What?”

“Spin.”

He lifted his phone. “For science.”

You roll your eyes, cheeks warm, but do it anyway.

You think he deletes it.

He doesn't.

There’s a photo of you and his sister when she visited, matching sleepy grins on both your faces, your head tilted toward hers.

It’s taken after your shopping spree—an unplanned, chaotic one that ends with your arms full of bags and your feet sore from walking half the city. His sister swipes his black card without shame, declaring, “He won’t care.”

And she’s right.

Suna doesn’t care.

How could he, when it’s for you both? When the two of you look so happy, cheeks flushed from the wind, shopping bags hanging off your arms, giggling like best friends who share secrets he’ll never understand?

He just leans against the doorframe when you both walk in, arms crossed, eyes soft, saying nothing.

Like a memory he doesn’t want to let go of.

Another clip: you laughing with your whole body when he takes you to Onigiri Miya. Your hand covers your mouth, eyes shining, and he films it without thinking, the sound tucked low in the background.

That laugh? Music to his ears. He plays it sometimes when he’s alone.

Next—your back to the camera, walking ahead of him, hair swaying with your steps. You wear that soft linen sundress he likes, the one that dips low in the back. Your fingers trail the metal railing of a pedestrian bridge, city lights just starting to blur in the distance.

He takes that photo one evening in early spring.

It’s after a late practice—he’s exhausted, sore, quiet in that way that means his mind is running faster than his body can keep up. You insist on getting fresh air, tugging him out for a walk without waiting for him to say yes. He doesn’t protest.

You wander aimlessly, sharing a 7-Eleven egg sandwich and a grape-flavored soda, your voice filling the silence while he just listens, too tired to talk but not too tired to watch. The sun dips behind the skyline, painting the world in soft golds and lavenders. And you, in that dress, in your sandals, hum under your breath as you step onto the bridge.

He lifts his phone without thinking.

Captures it in one shot.

Doesn’t edit a thing.

Posts it.

Now, it lives.

Frozen.

Like the moment never ends.

And then there’s that quiet frame no one notices unless they look closely.

Your hand resting next to his on the center console of his car. Pinkies barely touching. His rings catching the sun. Your fingers tapping twice against the leather like they’re remembering his warmth.

He doesn’t look at you when it happens—just keeps driving, sunglasses low on his nose, music humming soft through the speakers. But you feel it. That stillness. That shift. Like even though he’s not saying anything, something important just happens.

જ⁀🏐🖤📱

This sits with you for days. Weeks? Months? Years? Maybe. Most likely.

You try to ignore it, pretend you don’t think about it when you see the white heart hovering at the top of his profile. You tell yourself it’s just a Highlight, just a symbol. But it sticks stubbornly.

You know the “🤍” has been there for a long time.

Since college, actually. Since you’re barely friends and somehow still end up sharing a dorm floor, then group projects, then late-night snack runs, then an apartment. He adds it one night without a word. You think nothing of it then.

But now?

Now it’s different.

You don’t know why it suddenly matters.

Only that it does.

And so, one quiet night, curled into the corner of the couch with your knees drawn to your chest and the TV buzzing in the background, you finally ask.

“Why a white heart?”

Suna doesn’t even blink.

He stretches out beside you, phone in hand, wrist dangling off the edge of the cushion. “It’s quiet,” he says simply, eyes still on his screen. “Soft. Easy on the eyes.”

And then—

“It also matches my grid.”

You bite back a laugh. “That’s it?”

His lip twitches, just barely. “Not entirely.”

You glance over at him, your breath catching.

He shrugs like it’s nothing. “It’s constant.”

But then he adds, a beat softer, not looking at you, but meaning it, “Just like you.”

You freeze, warmth blooming slow and deep in your chest.

He doesn’t follow it up or elaborate—just unlocks his phone again with the most casual movement in the world. He scrolls lazily, and you swear he knows exactly what he’s doing, casually tapping his “🤍” Highlight and letting it play.

The clips loop.

Your laughter fills the room in quiet waves.

And Suna just leans back, head tilted toward yours, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

Like he’s home.

Because you’ve always been his favorite highlight.

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mattsundaes · 1 year ago

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steady

shinsuke kita x f!reader

A hot summer morning spent picking strawberries in kita's garden leaves you at odds with feelings you've spent years trying to forget.

wc: 2.2k

c: 18+ only, pining, fluff, feels, outdoor sexual activities, dry humping, fingering, see also: emotional smut

a/n: requested by @cheesypuffkins87!

SPICY SLEEPOVER WEEKEND — HEAT WAVE EDITION

“Yer doin’ it wrong.”

Part of the green stalk breaks in half along with the small, red fruit clenched between your fingertips, and you turn to look at the man bent down on one knee in the dirt beside you, his brown eyes focused on yours.

“I thought you were just a rice farmer,” you tease, the strawberry bobbing as you twirl it by the stem.

It’s a little strange—crouching down in the middle of Shinsuke Kita’s garden, a wicker basket overflowing with peppers and garlic and onions sitting on the ground nearby. Sweat prickles at your temples despite the light, breezy fabric of your sundress, the summer morning sun hanging bright overhead.

It’s strange—after all these years. To see the corded muscles that make their way up Kita’s forearms, his skin tan from long days spent tending to his rice field. His hair is still the same soft shade of silver, black underneath, but there’s something less tame about the way he wears it now, the strands mussed like he’s perpetually been running a hand through it.

His smile’s still the same though, a careful, tentative thing, something that always feels like a secret when you earn it.

(The sight of it still makes your heart flip helplessly in your chest, too.)

You were close with Kita at Inarizaki High, close enough that all of your friends just assumed the two of you were dating (though you certainly weren’t).

You’d confessed to him after your graduation, and he’d let you down as gently as possible, smiling sadly as he reminded you of the acceptance letters to universities overseas that you’d been mulling over for weeks. He couldn’t hold you back.

He’d seen you off at the airport, let his hand linger near your wrist, pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek that nearly brushed the corner of your mouth.

(You’d replayed the moment over and over in your head the entire flight.)

Now it’s been six years and you’re moving back in with your parents for a little while, and you’d hardly been back in town for twenty-four hours when you found yourself face to face with Kita at the grocery store one morning, every compartmentalized drawer of feelings you’d carefully tucked away over the years crashing open and spilling out onto the bright, shiny linoleum floor beneath your feet.

This thing is, Kita doesn’t do social media.

So as your calls and texts naturally dwindled over time, you found the only glimpses you could get into Kita’s life were the brief times he appeared in posts from other old friends like Aran and the Miya twins.

And sure, you knew he’d become a rice farmer—Osamu had once posted a particularly flattering video of him in the middle of wiping sweat from his face with the bottom of his shirt out in the fields, your throat going dry at the strip of his abdomen that was exposed in the process.

(You’d thought about it for weeks.)

But still, you weren’t prepared for the way your heart caught in your throat when you saw him standing there in the middle of the cereal aisle in a white t-shirt and a pair of light wash jeans covered in speckles of paint.

And you definitely weren’t prepared for the way your name still sounded on his lips—a warm familiarity that made you feel eighteen again.

Now you’re kneeling beside a row of strawberries wondering what your life would look like if you had stayed, if there’d be two chairs instead of one on Kita’s back porch.

You drop by his house most days now, and there’s something tangible that hangs in the air between the two of you, unfinished business thicker than the late summer humidity and louder than the steady buzz of the cicadas nestled deep in the towering trees. It’s in the brush of your fingertips when he hands you a cup of coffee and the placement of his hand against your lower back when he hugs you goodbye, feather-light and yet deliberate all the same.

It’s in the vase of carefully picked wildflowers he sends you home with for your mother, and the way he won’t take no for an answer when he insists on helping you to get the old sedan in your parents’ garage running again to save you a trip to the local mechanic.

(It’s in the nearly imperceptible shift in his expression when you tell him you haven’t dated in over a year.)

You’re not sure what he’s waiting for, if he doesn’t realize you’re still head over heels for him after all these years. If he doesn’t know how badly you want to feel the solid wood of his front door digging into your shoulder blades as he presses his body flush against yours and kisses you like you’ve always wanted him to.

Kita sighs, equal parts fond and exasperated as he removes another strawberry from the plant with ease. “Ya might as well let me set up that garden for your mom.”

Balking with faux indignation, you grab a larger berry with much more success this time. “Are you doubting my green thumb?”

The corner of his lips quirks up, just a little. “We’re way past doubt, I think.”

Frowning, you stick out your tongue at him before bringing the strawberry to your lips and taking a slow, deliberate bite out of it, maintaining eye contact with him all the while. Kita’s throat bobs as he watches your eyes flutter closed for just a moment at the sweet, ripe flavor, and you can feel the sticky juice trail down your chin.

When your eyes open, there’s a hand on your wrist stopping you from taking another bite, Kita’s callused fingers resting against your pulse point.

Idly, you wonder if he can feel just how hard your heart is beating as he holds your gaze while he leans in, taking the last bite of the fruit while it’s still in your hand, his lips brushing over your fingertips in the process.

He’s still staring at you as he wipes the back of his hand across his lips. “‘m not a strong enough man for this,” he exhales.

The skirt of your dress ripples in the breeze. “For what?”

Kita reaches out, slowly, and drags his thumb through the juice still on your chin, curving upward toward the corner of your mouth. “To watch you walk away again.”

Somewhere in the distance, the sound of tires on pavement echoes out across the fields. A bird shrieks. The wind chimes at the edge of Kita’s porch whisper and sway.

“Do you want me to stay?” you ask him.

The night.

The day after.

Until you lose count.

Until the well-worn footpath to the garden is carved out for two.

“Yes,” Kita rasps without hesitation, “C’mere.” His eyes are bright with something as you lean forward while he sits back, until his hands are clasping your hips and you realize he’s tugging you into his lap.

Straddling him, you let your arms loop around his shoulders, and his eyes fall shut for a moment as you let your thumb scrape against the nape of his neck, his skin warm to the touch from the relentless sun. When his brown eyes open back up again, they track a path to your lips as he brings a hand up to cup your jaw.

“Shoulda done this a long time ago,” he murmurs, tracing the curve of your bottom lip with a careful reverence that makes your heart ache.

And then his lips are on yours.

Kita’s lips are soft, far softer than you ever could have imagined, but they’re also more greedy, more demanding than you ever could have hoped. Years of want and regret and desire mold the shape of his mouth on yours, the slick slide of his tongue against the seam of your lips, the tightening of his fingers against your hip bone at the breathy little sound that leaves you as he deepens it.

When you break for air, it’s almost regretful, the separation of your lips as both of your chests heave, his brown eyes a shade darker, pupils blown wide. With one hand splayed across the small of your back, Kita’s mouth traces a path along the curve of your jaw, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss against the sensitive place just behind your earlobe. You whimper as his tongue laves over the spot, your body arching into him, and his hand slides up higher against your spine, pulling you impossibly closer still.

“Shinsuke,” you accidentally gasp out while his lips are blazing hot and wet down the side of your neck, and he groans, tightening his grip on you as his teeth sink into the space between your shoulder and neck.

He exhales against your skin, rough and a little unsteady, his breath hot and damp. “Say it again.”

It was rare for you to use Kita’s given name—you were always afraid of the intimate weight of it on your tongue (it weighed enough in your heart, after all).

And you’ve yet to use it now, not since you’ve returned, the syllables firmly, stubbornly trapped in purgatory behind your teeth.

“Please,” he breathes out, still waiting.

Your heart thunders in your chest as you crumble for him and whisper, “Shinsuke.”

Kita’s mouth comes crashing back into yours, engulfing your lips in a hunger that leaves you dizzy as his tongue tangles with your own, your body writhing against him as he tugs at your hips.

A searing wave of pleasure rips through your chest as your hips fully align with the movement, your cunt dragging against the erection tented at the front of his pants. Kita cups the back of your head, kissing you deeper as his other hand slides to your ass, dragging you against him.

You gasp into his mouth, your cotton underwear the only thing separating your folds from the friction of his pants with the way the skirt of your dress is rucked up around your thighs. Rocking against him, you whine as you try to chase the rising and falling tides of pleasure dancing over your nerve endings with each roll of your hips.

“Ya sound so pretty like this,” he murmurs against your mouth, a hand sliding beneath your dress to trace the waistband of your panties.

“Touch me, Shinsuke,” you beg.

His eyes meet yours as your mouths part, a trail of saliva snapping between your lips, and he cups your mound through your underwear. “Like this?” he asks, brows raised, his middle finger pressing against your slit, no doubt feeling the way the material’s already soaked through with your arousal.

You clock the moment he realizes how wet you are, his jaw ticking as he swallows.

Bucking a little in his grip, you exhale. “More than that.”

Kita takes his lower lip between his teeth, hooking a finger in your panties to pull them aside, and you watch the muscle at the side of his neck flex as he drags one finger through your dripping folds. “This all for me?” he asks.

You want to laugh.

You want to cry.

You want Kita to carry you inside and take you to bed, to fuck you until you can’t think straight. To make love to you until you lose track of where you end and he begins.

You nod, carding your fingers through the hair at the back of his head, and Kita lets out a satisfied hum before plunging a finger inside of you.

There’s a dizzying rhythm to it, the way Kita rocks you in his lap as he massages your inner walls, one finger quickly becoming two. His voice is gravelly as he murmurs soft words against your lips, telling you how much he loves how wet you are, how good your cunt feels on his fingers, and the coil in your gut wraps tighter with each exhale, each plunge, each stroke.

There’s something so deliberate in how Kita fucks you with his fingers, like he’s already mapped you out, as if he knows how to scrape up every dredge of pleasure boiling in your veins, how to orchestrate every moan and whimper he eases up your throat and past your kiss-swollen lips.

And when you shudder and keen for him, he groans, like the mere idea of how fucking sensitive you are for him is a phantom stroke against his throbbing, untouched cock.

“Come for me,” he instructs you in a low, steady tone, his gaze burning into yours.

He drags his thumb across your clit and curls his fingers inside of you, and you see stars as your climax punches through you, every muscle in your body tensing with the hot, gushing damn of pleasure that comes unbound from your very core.

Kita’s patient as you ride out the aftershocks, kissing you softly while you shudder and whimper and gasp for air, holding you close as you try to catch your breath, letting your forehead drop against his shoulder.

When you finally look up at him, there’s a sparkle of amusement in his eyes as he muses, “I really was gonna take ya for dinner first, at least.”

Brushing your fingers through the mussed strands of hair over his forehead, you reply, “I’m also a fan of breakfast in bed.”

He smiles. “Think I can manage that.”

#kita shinsuke #shinsuke kita #kita shinsuke x reader #shinsuke kita x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #dee writes #spicy sleepover weekend

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idlerin · 1 year ago

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CAN I CALL YOU MINE?

celebrity!sakusa kiyoomi x f!reader

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

the ikarus incident (band au)

+ word count: 9.3k

content — you're the miya twins younger sister yes, essentially brothers bsf (thats if sakusa treats atsumu as a bff, tsumu says yes, still up for debate), in this au inarizaki is based in tokyo!, as usual can be read as a stand-alone despite it being part of a mini series :3, uhh light angst for now, reader has had a crush on sakusa since childhood, she has a fan acc dedicated to him and he knows abt it too lol. oh and four year age gap.

it seemed like everyone (well, mostly your brothers) was against the idea of you liking sakusa, even sakusa himself. although you'd do everything you can to reach him, impossible it may be.

“IKARUS’ SAKUSA KIYOOMI and Haiba Alisa dating rumors heat up after viral video claims evidence of lovestagrams,” you read out loud, eyebrows furrowing, “What the hell are lovestagrams?”

Despite knowing this was more than likely a case of false assumptions made by story-starved journalists, you continued to read the article trending in your circle.

Fans express a mixture of dread and joy for a potential romance between Haiba Alisa and Sakusa Kiyoomi as a trending tiktok video compiles ‘dating evidence’ of the pair’s relationship. The video meticulously pieces together videos and clips of the past three years of Haiba and Sakusa’s interactions that seem to hint at a deeper relationship between the model and the music artist. The account also pieces together instagram posts of the pair that insinuate that they were near or at the same place, sharing similar poses reminiscent of ‘lovestagrams’ shared by couples.

That was when you stopped reading. You clicked out of the tab to quote the tweet the article was attached to. Words such as ‘when has sakusa ever seemed like the type to plan an ig layout?’ and ‘isn’t it weird to say that two people are dating just because they looked at each other or breathed at the same place’ that you both deleted in place of saying ‘i’d be happy if this were true’—you would not—‘only if sakusa announces it. like he’s said so many times that if he were to ever be in a relationship he’d tell the media himself’. A couple of seconds pass before you get a notification.

leia @keijisrealgf · 1m Replying to @kiyominiscient ur so real oomf. sakusa hates gossip pages byeee 7:04 PM · Jul 3, 20XX

[name] | kiyo’s future wife (real) @kiyominiscient · 36s Replying to @keijisrealgf he’s like their worst enemy lol 7:04 PM · Jul 3, 20XX

leia @keijisrealgf · 6s Replying to @kiyominiscient hes more likely to date atsumu !!! 7:04 PM · Jul 3, 20XX

In the middle of typing out a reply, your door slams open harshly, “Oi, you better be ready, we’re leaving in thirty minutes,” the sight of your older brother, Osamu, in a plain shirt and jeans (which eerily reminds you of your father) makes you turn your attention to him, “You better still not be in pajamas.”

“Is it true that Kiyo’s dating Haiba?” you ask instead, tone in slight distress, rising from your lounge on the bed. Despite your reassurance for Sakusa’s other fans, you were more than less assured of anything. The last time you had a proper conversation with the man even through text was over a week ago, and he would never tell you if he was seeing anyone.

Osamu raised a brow, “How would I know if Kiyoomi was dating anyone? And Haiba? The model?”

“Yes, the model and I don’t know, does Atsumu not tell you or something? He would tell you if that were to ever happen, right? Right?” you were insistent. You knew your twin brothers had gossip sessions without you because of their weekly calls you walk into now that you’re temporarily staying with Osamu. You wouldn’t have wanted to sit through Atsumu’s girl problems anyway, he’d ask you directly for advice (he does this a lot) if he needed it.

“I guess so?” Osamu affirms, kind of.

“You didn’t notice anything when you visited their studio two weeks ago?” you ask, looking back at the dreaded day you scheduled a pilates class because you wanted to try it out and Osamu told you last minute when he dropped you off at the gym that he was going to the studio because Atsumu paid him to make food. You stood there, mouth agape, watching as your brother drove away, missing the chance to see the love of your life—what’s worse was Osamu did that because you would have asked to come with him, “Cause ‘Tsumu would never let him be! He’d be all up in his ass about it.”

Osamu contemplates your judgment of Atsumu, “Fair, he would do that. But I didn’t notice anyone acting differently last time I went.”

You sigh in relief, “Oh oka—”

“But doesn’t that mean if Kiyoomi were to get a girlfriend he would never tell ‘Tsumu?” Osamu thinks out loud, you froze at his glaringly correct answer, “Anyways, it’s none of our business. You’ve got to get over your silly crush on the guy. Now get up, you lazy bum.”

You frown before putting your laptop to the side after shutting it down—not forgetting to hit post on the reply—you stand up, patting down the white layered maxi skirt you were wearing and fixing the sides of your top before showing him your palms to show you were all ready before he starts to nag you, “Why would I ever be lazy with an opportunity to see Kiyo? I’ll just do my hair for a bit.”

Osamu blinks at you before sighing, already used to your comments about Sakusa, “Okay just do it quickly,” he says before leaving. You were staying with him while on vacation from university because you had nothing to do if you went back to your house. Your parents were currently on a three-month-long trip touring Europe, they should be back in a month or so, and you’d hate to be stuck in the dormitory without any company (your roommate and most of your other friends went back to their hometowns or abroad), so what was left was bothering one of your older brothers.

Your other brother, Atsumu, was too busy being a famous celebrity to house you. Alright, he’s not that mean, the reality was he was too busy moving out of his old condominium and moving into his shiny new penthouse to offer you a place to stay. Even if he did make an offer, you would choose to stay at Osamu’s any day because it meant you didn’t have to cook for yourself. As much as you were interested in Atsumu’s band activities, or more specifically, bandmate, you would not suffer through the horrors of living with him again even for only two months, you’ve had plenty of experience in that field. It’s not like Osamu wasn’t the same kind of horror, he is, just in a different font, but again, he can cook!

Securing the last strand of your hair and smiling at yourself in the mirror, you put your essentials in your handbag. Grabbing the bouquet of blue dahlias made out of paper you decided to make on a whim the past week once you found out Atsumu was hosting a housewarming party and Sakusa would most definitely be attending. You eye the three flowers you spent hours perfecting, you were badly hoping Sakusa would keep them this time. Unreachable. The meaning of the flower coincided with how you felt for him. You’ve had a slight obsession with flowers and their hidden meanings since you gave him a rose on his birthday a year ago.

You skip out of the guest room to see Osamu by the counter twirling his keys, he looks at the bouquet in your arms, you asked him if it looked pretty and he replied by muttering a ‘when the hell did you even get the time to do that’ before leading you out of his cozy apartment and heading to the parking lot. The drive didn’t feel like it was forty minutes, you were humming in excitement as you clutched your hand-made bouquet to your stomach on one hand as it sat daintily on your lap and scrolled through your phone on the other to read through the latest antics on twitter.

Soon enough you were thrown in to face the security check in at Atsumu’s new place, you kind of didn’t get it when Osamu was asked to show his ID when he said that he was Atsumu’s brother. Isn’t looking at his face already enough proof? But of course you get that it’s for security reasons, it was just funny to think about since they were literally carbon copies of each other.

You continued your humming until you were in front of Atsumu’s door, you quickly faced your brother, “Samu do I look okay?”

Osamu grunted out a yes (very unhelpful) as he told Atsumu through the phone to let you guys in. You stayed fiddling with the hem of your top when the door opened and you were greeted by Atsumu, his platinum blonde dyed hair one of the only clear distinctions he had with Osamu.

“Well if it isn’t my dearest beloved sibli—” you ducked under Atsumu mid-sentence, patting his back and absentmindedly saying a ‘yeah yeah love you too’. You were faced by nothingness, portraits and paintings but no sign of people, you do admit that his marble floors facing the skyline did pose a pretty view.

“If you’d let me finish my sentence, you would’ve known everyone’s out at the patio,” an arm was lurched on your shoulder, the same arm twisted you and angled you to the direction of open glass doors leading out to a private terrace where you spot familiar silhouettes. You heard Osamu’s footfalls follow behind you two. You couldn’t escape Atsumu’s hold and was forced to be etched at his side as he stood still on his main living area with no plans of moving anytime soon.

“She’s been restless for the past hour,” Osamu quips, sitting comfortably on a sofa chair and stretching, the comment makes you the subject of Atsumu’s jabs.

“Was it because you were excited to see me?” Atsumu grins down at you, using his free hand to murder the top of your head. You made a sound similar to a hiss as you tried to shoo his hand away.

You display your displeasure with a large frown, “I see you all the time through Samu,” you grumble.

“Gross!” Atsumu’s face scrunches and Osamu raises a threatening fist from his resting position, eyes closed and completely relaxed, “I meant seeing me, I raised you!”

“You were four when I was born,” you scrutinize, trying to get his arm off your shoulder and fail again, you kept glancing behind you where you would very much like to be at the moment, “And I do see you. On the trending page on youtube, tsu-tsu,” you chuckle at the latest nickname your brother was given because of his recent performance wearing a pink tutu. That specific performance of the band went to every corner of the internet because of the ridiculousness of their costumes (well mostly because of the ridiculousness of your brother too). You couldn’t help but think Sakusa still looked attractive wearing a colorful zebra print jumpsuit.

“I rocked that, didn’t I?” Atsumu smirked, unfazed by your obvious mockery.

“Can we go out now? Shouldn’t you be accommodating your guests or something, I’m hungry,” you groan, saying the last bit as an excuse, eyes drifting out again. You spot a head of wavy strands standing from the settee and going deeper into the corner of the patio, making your eyes widen, clutching your bouquet even tighter in anticipation.

Atsumu ignores you and glances down at your flowers, “My guests are just the guys and some other old friends, they can serve themselves,” he scoffs, giving Osamu a look, “And I’m hoping those flowers are for me.”

You made a noncommittal sound, taking the bouquet in your hands away from his view, “It’s not.”

Your brothers have always been unsupportive of your feelings for Sakusa ever since you voiced it out when you turned eighteen, hoping that confessing your feelings at that age would make them more accepting of it (spoiler: it did not). They kept acting as if it was just some phase because Sakusa was one of the first guys you’ve ever known, but you knew it was deeper than that. It wasn’t like your feelings showed up overnight, you’ve liked him ever since you were eleven and moved in the house next to the Sakusas. Your family moved because your father’s job required him to stay in Tokyo, it was a difficult decision moving so far away from Hyogo and everything familiar to you, adjusting took a while.

As an eleven year old, you were upset that you had to move away from all of your friends. You sulked for days and your brothers had to use petty tricks to get you to talk to them. Teasing and annoying you were their way to get you to respond, it was torture. They did what they did because you weren’t yourself for weeks, they were worried and didn’t know how to express it properly as stupid teenage boys.

Until one day your brothers annoyed you enough that you stormed out of the house, tears brimming in your eyes as you ran and ran till you tired yourself out. You saw a bench nearby and decided to sulk even more there. You were missing your friends and was frustrated because of your brothers, you cried your heart out for what felt like hours but were really just minutes. You were sniffling to yourself and wallowing in self pity when a handkerchief was suddenly in your blurry view. You look up at the owner holding it out to you, seeing an older boy looking awkwardly to the side, you observe what you can and the most you can make of him was his wavy hair and lean figure.

“This is my second lap in the area and you’re still sitting there looking pitiful,” his words were sharp and shouldn’t have been something said to a total stranger, you knew that much at your age, your shock from his attitude momentarily made the tears stop flowing.

“So? Aren’t you going to take it?” the stranger nudges the cloth to you again as you reluctantly take it to wipe your tears. You felt a bit better knowing a stranger cared enough to approach you, even if he was a bit rude.

You watch as the stranger starts to walk away, you inhale a sharp breath and with your quavering voice you manage to utter, “Uhm stay, please,” it was so soft that you thought he didn’t hear you for a moment.

But the stranger does stop in his tracks and looks back at you with a pointed gaze that should have been intimidating, he just stood there and you realized that he was waiting for what you had to say. Now with your less blurry gaze, you observed him more objectively. Noting how he was what you and your friends would say was a cute boy, you guessed he was around your brothers’ age.

Before you could say anything else, loud, obnoxious voices started shouting your name and running towards you. You watch in horror as your brothers approach and in your surprise, you hide behind the boy you just met. It took minutes of your brothers shouting their worry and claiming how stupid you were for running around in an unfamiliar place (which you wouldn’t have done if they weren’t being so mean in the first place!). That’s why you refused to go back with them, still using the stranger as your shield. The boy was obviously starting to get more and more irritated with each second that passed, he never asked to be in this situation when he was just doing a good deed for once.

That was when the twins finally acknowledged his presence and started questioning him, the stranger explained that he saw you crying at the bench and approached you to give you something so you would stop (he said this in an annoyed tone), and that he was about to leave when they showed up. The twins, especially Atsumu, were relentless and kept drilling him with stupid accusations like ‘Were you planning to kidnap her?! Huh!?’ when Sakusa at the time barely looked like he cared.

“Stop it!” you finally intervened, stepping out from your human shield, “Stop being so mean to him! You’re already mean enough to me,” you huffed, dramatically crossing your arms and glaring at your brothers. This made Atsumu quiet down, looking at you with a large pout on his face as if that would make you start thinking he deserved forgiveness.

“Hey, you know we didn’t mean it like that,” Osamu began, stepping forward and reaching a hand towards you—a supposed comforting invitation, “We’re sorry, so let’s go home.”

“I don’t want to,” your glare was still set, your stubbornness evident as you placed your foot down. It made both of your brothers groan, knowing when you were in your mood, you were in your mood, meaning, it’s going to take them a lot of convincing and bargaining.

“Hey,” the voice from behind you caught your attention, the chilly air was making a mess of his hair, “I don’t know whatever it is that happened but you should go home. It’s getting dark and you wouldn’t want to stay out here so late,” the stranger looks at his watch.

You contemplate it because he did have a point, and you were missing the comfort of your bed… “You’re right,” your shoulders slump and you mumble a small, “Fine.”

Atsumu cheers and you glare at him again before looking at the stranger who really looks like he wanted to leave, “What’s your name?” you finally ask.

Your brothers took your calm tone as a sign that they could approach you and they flocked to your sides as if making sure you wouldn’t run away again, they also waited in curiosity for the stranger to introduce himself.

“Sakusa Kiyoomi,” he says, “And you guys are…?” The twins introduced themselves, their guard down after deducing that Sakusa wasn’t a threat at all. You were a bit more shy when saying your name, you suddenly felt bashful because it was now just sinking in that this stranger-no-more saw you crying your eyes out like a baby.

Sakusa was saying his long-awaited farewell when Atsumu asked him if he lived around here and Sakusa said he was ten blocks ahead to the right, Atsumu’s exact words were ‘No way?! Us too!’. It turned into you guys walking towards your homes together with Atsumu leading the conversation with Sakusa, it turns out he was dead-set on making this guy his friend. You stepped back with Osamu and just watched as Sakusa pointedly shot down a lot of Atsumu’s statements, it made you laugh.

A couple of minutes later you guys find out that you lived right next to each other, another ‘No way?!’ from Atsumu. Osamu had to push his twin back into the house to get him—metaphorically—off Sakusa in his excitement.

You stayed out as the raven-haired opened his door, you exclaimed, “I’ll give you back your handkerchief after I wash it!”

Sakusa waved his hand as an answer, the action made another grin slip through your lips.

That began a series of countless encounters and moments with the family living next door and Atsumu successfully making Sakusa his friend (still up to debate, although he successfully roped him into forming a band with two other friends so that’s a success in making him a lifetime friend for sure). You’ve had off-hand conversations with Sakusa here and there but as the days passed you grew more and more self-conscious around the teen, until one day you found yourself looking in the mirror and admitting to your reflection that you have a huge crush on Sakusa Kiyoomi.

“I thought liking Sakusa was just a phase,” Atsumu sounded baffled, this brought you back to reality, “How many times do we have to tell you he’s too old for you?”

“He is not,” you defended, four years was practically nothing! You were twenty this year! Sure you’ve liked him since you were a kid and it was just a stupid crush back then but you weren’t a kid anymore and you still like him. Doesn’t that mean something?

“He’s practically ancient,” Atsumu says as if the person he was talking about wasn’t a few feet away. The heavy weight on your shoulders makes its presence known, you look at Osamu for help but he just stares at you because he agrees with Atsumu.

You grunt, “You’re literally the same age, are you calling yourself ancient?”

“What’s the hold up?” another voice joins, you all turn to look at Suna Rintarou holding a plate with pepperoni pizza, “Atsumu you need to buy more food, and before you say anything else Akaashi and Kita agreed that we do need more food. Oh! It’s little Miya, long time no see.”

You frown at the nickname, Suna insists on calling you that even though you’ve told him countless times that you had a proper name. He’s part of the same band Atsumu and Sakusa were in, he’s also the twins’ former schoolmate at Inarizaki High which was how they met in the first place, “Hi Suna,” you greet blandly, looking defeated.

“You’re looking more and more like the twins every day,” the corner of Suna’s lips raise in a smirk as your face contorts to an expression that could only be described as disgust.

“I will start crying, tell me you don’t mean that,” you use your free hand to cover your face in exasperation at your situation. You just wanted to see and talk to Sakusa! You don’t understand why your brothers were being such a pain by keeping you away from him (which they didn’t do before, they only started with this weird intervention when you confessed your feelings for Sakusa a year ago). It wasn’t like you were going to pounce on the guy as soon as you saw him! You still had some decency and respected his space.

“I give you a part of your allowance, little brat,” Atsumu sneers. Your extra meals and clothes you were only able to buy because Atsumu spoiled you with his music money flash before your eyes.

“Tell me you didn’t mean it as a joke,” you add to remedy your previous statement. It seemed to appease Atsumu enough but it didn’t warrant him setting you free.

“This is starting to get tedious, I think it’s been enough. Let her loose,” Osamu states, standing up with his hands crossed against his chest. In his words, you scowl even as Atsumu finally lets you go, you massage the part of your shoulder where Atsumu’s weight was pressed using your free hand.

“I’m not your little pet,” you point using your handmade blue flowers in the air, dragging them from Atsumu to Osamu, as if making the statement ‘I’m going to do whatever I want’. You huff as you turn your heels to see Suna’s amused face which you glare at as well before practically running towards Atsumu’s fancy terrace.

Not before faintly hearing Suna badgering Atsumu about more food as you slide out the glass doors and are greeted by the chill of the evening air. You made eye contact and greeted the three people seated around the gray L-shaped sofa. Akaashi on the furthest to the left—the main vocalist of their band, the one most of your friends had a crush on—and Atsumu’s closest former seniors back in high school, Kita and Aran, if you remembered correctly. You knew this housewarming party would only consist of a few people because Atsumu wasn’t exactly sociable, despite his obnoxious and loud demeanor. You were surprised to not see another face though, you briefly wondered if they had another fight. You shake those thoughts away and focus on what’s important. Greeting Sakusa.

His tall figure was leaning on the edge of the patio, keeping to himself as usual. You walked around the small table displayed in the middle, sidestepping the decorative plants. You were careful as you approached, not knowing what reaction you would get. Would he act again as if he didn’t know you had feelings for him? Ignore you? Treat you coldly? But you know Sakusa wasn’t like that, despite everything, you practically grew up together. You could never be a stranger, you hoped you’d never be a stranger.

“Miya,” you almost jump in surprise at him acknowledging you first. He’s always called you by your last name, you didn’t know why when he could call the twins by their first name just fine. It’s not like he doesn’t say your name or nickname sometimes too, he just chooses to call you Miya for some reason. It improved in some way, he used to call you ‘Little Miya’ like Suna did back when you were sixteen, and you complained enough about it that he stopped.

“Were you waiting for me?” you gave him a sheepish smile, braver, stepping closer until you were standing beside him. You didn’t wait for his response in case your heart gets crushed by his answer and instead showed him the blue dahlias, “I made these for you.”

Sakusa gives one glance at the paper flowers before meeting your gaze, you wait with bated breath for his response, “You didn’t get poisoned by the rotten apple fruit shake, then?”

You almost didn’t understand what he meant, then you remembered the series of texts you sent him a few days ago which he never replied to, so you thought he hadn’t read it. You almost pout at the thought that he just didn’t want to reply, but that was typical of him already, “It looked normal on the outside okay? I told you it was Samu’s fault, who in their right mind would keep those lying around in their homes—and you’re distracting me!” you accuse once you realized he was trying to change the topic.

The corners of his lips twitch and if you hadn’t grown up with him you wouldn’t have noticed that little change in his otherwise deadpan expression, you place emphasis on your gift once again by lightly shaking it. He takes another glance, a hand reaching out to gently nudge the delicate paper-made petals with his fingers, “How long did it take you to make these?” “Around three days,” you answer dismissively, waiting patiently for him to take it, “I chose to make a nonexistent flower eternal,” you boast, proud of yourself.

“You could’ve used that time for other things, enjoy your summer break,” Sakusa says offhandedly, turning to look at the view, “Don’t waste it making gifts for me.”

“Making gifts for you is not a waste, this is the only way I can show you that what I feel for you is sincere,” your brows furrow, “And I am enjoying summer break, I’ve done a lot of things already.”

“I know,” Sakusa sighs, you didn’t know what he was referring to. Your sincerity? Or that you’ve been spending your break to the fullest? You do update him through texts from time to time, you make sure not to bother him too much for fear that he starts finding you annoying like a lot of other aspects of his life.

To your happiness, he plucks the bouquet from your hands. You were then overcome with the irrational fear that he would drop it, which was silly, “Keep it in a vase, okay?” you ask, “Preferably somewhere like your countertop or in the lobby,” you began to suggest the most visible ways he could display it, your own little way of putting bits and pieces of you in his life.

“Why didn’t you come with Osamu when he delivered Atsumu’s food?” Sakusa asks instead, changing the conversation.

A small pout forms on your lips, “He left me,” you complain, “They’re on some weird pact trying to keep me away from you.”

“They mean well,” Sakusa says, a glint of amusement in his eyes, probably imagining the twins doing everything so you wouldn’t be able to make any advances on him, “You’re their only baby sister, of course they would be protective.”

You lean against the stone railing, looking out on the view, slightly upset, “I know they mean well, that makes it worse. It’s not like I can’t think for myself, I know what I’m doing.” “Do you?” Sakusa asks, adjusting his body to look at you properly.

“You said you’d let me try,” you mumble, looking back at the time you confessed to him and declared you would try to win his heart, that he should give you a chance. At the time, Sakusa looked surprised, never thinking of the possibility that you would develop feelings for him deeper than anything platonic.

“Because I thought you’d find some other guy your age you’d focus on more when you start university,” Sakusa lets out a breath, “I’m not the one for you, Miya.”

His statement stabs you directly in the heart.

“You don’t…” you gulp, a lump stuck in your throat, “...have to like me back,” you bit down on your lower lip, “Can’t you just let me like you?”

“You mean a lot to me,” ‘just not in the way you want me to’, you could almost hear Sakusa’s train of thought, “You’re young—”

“You are not that much older,” you practically groaned, that was always their excuse.

“And yet I’ve known and experienced more in life than you,” Sakusa states bluntly, “Be serious, Miya. What you want isn’t going to work, so get over me,” talking down on you.

Your jaw clenches and you raise your chin at him, even with his frame towering over you, “It’s not that easy, Sakusa,” it was petty, not using the nickname you’ve called him since you were a kid. Being petty by using his last name as if that would put more distance between you two. It wasn’t wise letting your emotions control you, and perhaps it was proving to him more that you were still too childish for someone who already presents himself to be so mature. Though it did give the point across, that you were seriously upset, watching as something flickers in his eyes as you turn on your heels away from him.

You decide to sit in between Osamu and Akaashi, Osamu was splayed on the couch talking to Suna who was on his left about stuff you hardly care about. Even if your brother does notice your foul mood, he doesn’t point it out. Atsumu walks in holding three more boxes of pizza with a delivery guy trailing behind him holding more drinks. Which consisted mostly of alcohol and a few juices, which was most likely for your benefit. You were allowed to drink but you never liked the taste of alcohol. You watch as Atsumu directs the guy to put it on the side and that’s when you lose interest, choosing to listen in on Osamu and Suna instead.

You were catching in on their topic, but you were mostly just confused. It looks like they’re talking about Osamu’s planned business. You know this one, the onigiri franchise he wants to start. He’s working a corporate job right now to save up for his restaurant-ish (you didn’t really know what to call it), he didn’t want to risk focusing on that immediately after graduating. You know he’s near his goal, you’ve been hearing talks about finding the right building and stuff. All this business talk almost distracts you from your previous state of anger.

“Can I sit there, Akaashi?” you don’t look up to see the one person you’ve wanted to see all night. You knew he was blunt, that was just the kind of person he is, and you were used to it. Doesn’t mean just because you were used to it and you liked him, that you were immune to getting your feelings hurt.

“Sure,” Akaashi says nonchalantly, he was just on his phone the whole time you sat here, he also probably noticed you weren’t in the mood which was why he didn’t attempt conversation. You see in your peripheral vision Akaashi offering to help Atsumu with arranging the food.

You continued to listen in on Osamu’s conversation, it was beginning to be difficult to ignore the presence next to you. Your body was always hyper-aware when he was settling down, it betrays your need for indifference.

In your view, a bottle of juice was presented, it was one of your favorite flavors, “Your drink,” his voice was closer, closer than you were when you were together on the ledge. It was so difficult to stay mad at him. This was his way of making amends, you knew, and it was hard to act like you didn’t like it when he paid special attention to you. When you take no action to take the drink, he places it on the table top in front of you.

“I’ll get you food,” he says, standing up and leaving the space beside you empty. It was natural, his knowledge of knowing exactly how to appease you. It makes you feel even more devastated knowing he’s just doing this because of his years spent on familiarness with you and your habits, usually, he’d be doing this after Atsumu or Osamu (or even both of them) did something to upset you. To him, you were still the shell of the child you used to be and that meant he still wouldn’t be taking you seriously.

That was partially your fault, you were still so… emotional and childish. You knew that, you were trying to work on it, really. Based on the way you acted just a few minutes ago, you’d have to work harder. Your gaze lands on the spot at the empty seat he was in where your blue dahlias rested, he decided to keep them after all. Your chest tightens in even more fondness. Osamu glances once back at you and you shove him away.

When Sakusa came back, you took the food he offered with no complaints and drank the juice he placed in front of you, murmuring a soft, “Thank you.”

“I heard you still have that fan account up, Rika says you play pretend there,” Sakusa mentions once he settles down beside you again, gauging that you were in the mood again to talk to him properly.

You were still a bit ashamed because of how you acted, which is why you replied hesitantly, “It’s not playing pretend, I’m genuinely a fan.”

“Rika says she saw some of your tweets acting like you didn’t know Atsumu,” Sakusa seemed amused at this notion which distracted you enough that you didn’t care Rika was technically stalking you. Komori Rika was Sakusa’s cousin who works for him as his assistant, you’ve met her a couple of times and you text her whenever you want to know if Sakusa was busy or not (so you would know if it was okay to message him). She was very sweet to you so you didn’t mind it that much.

“It’s not just online, I don’t tell anyone he’s my brother—mostly because they don’t ask. And my friends would start acting differently if they knew I was directly related to ‘Tsumu,” your nose scrunches. It does disgust you when one of your friends starts gushing over him, it is probably better that you never say that fact about your family relations because your friends would start being mortified remembering all the things they said about these guys.

Sakusa hummed, knowing that part of the reason why you don’t tell people you knew Ikarus and was related to one of the band members was because of your worry that people would start befriending you because of that. He was there when your high school friendships fell apart, after all.

“What’cha guys talking about?” Atsumu intrudes by sitting between you and Sakusa, your face contorts into another unpleasant expression as Atsumu makes his presence very known and very unwanted.

You give a look at Sakusa, silently saying ‘See? I told you so’ which he responds by giving Atsumu a once-over, “You’re half-sitting on my thigh,” Sakusa grunts at him, moving to the side to be free of your brother.

“Omi-omi my guy, you know our connection transcends beyond the naked eye,” Atsumu threw an arm around Sakusa’s shoulder as you rolled your eyes and took a bite of your pizza.

For the rest of the night, you never got the chance to talk to Sakusa one-on-one again. You’d try to start a conversation with him and Atsumu butts in with his own smart-ass answer unrelated to your question in the first place. Eventually, you gave up because you knew Atsumu wouldn’t back down. You stood up from your seat, earning a few glances from the men around you. When Atsumu asks where you’re going, you say you planned to raid his house. He lets you be and you take one look back at Sakusa who was getting bothered by Atsumu before stepping inside the living room again.

First, you walked aimlessly but your feet led you to the kitchen. You started opening Atsumu’s cupboards only to find them disappointedly empty. The fridge was your next stop, you open the freezer and find chocolate bars you gladly steal. You sat on one of the countertop stools, distantly hearing Suna and Atsumu’s laughter.

What can you do for Sakusa to take you seriously? Maybe you should distance yourself for a bit, make him miss you. You chuckle at the absurd thought, in your dreams. Though it would be okay to get some space away, you’re not giving up, not by a long shot. But you’ve never really given much thought to what Sakusa’s type was since he’s never dated anyone—no one that you know of—for the past almost decade of knowing him. During high school, he only cared about his studies and the band. Then in college—where you started seeing him less—you don’t know of him dating anyone. Maybe you should ask Rika? Or maybe Motoya? Since they’re the same age.

Having a plan decided, you hum to yourself, satisfied. Biting off the last piece of chocolate, you threw the wrapper in a trash can. Then you found that the drums Atsumu had displayed in the living room interested you, spotting a pair of drumsticks lazily thrown on a desk. You take these sticks and put one experimental hit on the cymbals. A stinging ring echoed in the room.

“Oi! You better be careful with that!” Atsumu shouts from the patio, but doesn’t storm in to take them from you so that must be a good sign.

When you were younger, he never even let you near his instruments. That made playing with his instruments even more desirable. Music has always been Atsumu’s thing—well, the playing instruments part, he wasn’t very blessed vocally, Osamu used to take lessons too but stopped because it didn’t interest him enough. Your parents tried to put you through music lessons, but after accidentally plucking off the strings of your guitar one by one, they decided that for your own safety, you weren’t allowed to touch instruments.

You can still clearly remember the day Atsumu brought the three other boys home and declared he was going to start a band with them. The only person that interested you back then was Sakusa, because you didn’t know he was musically inclined. You would sneak into their practices in the extra room in your house and would stay even when Atsumu would screech at you to leave. There were days when they went to Akaashi’s house to practice so you were left pouty because you were unable to come with.

Sometimes, Sakusa was the only one who would come to your house because Atsumu begged him enough to play with him. Those were the days you enjoyed the most because Sakusa let you stay with him and watch him play the guitar. You asked him once why he didn’t play the electric guitar in the band, he said that he preferred playing the bass because it was a more reserved position, they weren’t too loud but they were a vital part of giving soul to the art (his words, not yours). That made you respect bassists even though you knew nothing about the music industry.

It was the first time you saw Sakusa with that expression on his face—at peace—it made you think that this path really must be something he loved. You were overjoyed when his and the band’s efforts paved off, even though it meant seeing him and your brother even less. They became busy, too busy for you, but you’ve learned that it was nice seeing them trending and going viral. Your social circles began to talk about them and they fawned over you too for being Atsumu’s sister.

Of course, all good things come to an end and people who you thought were your closest friends just used you to get close to them. Sakusa was there during the fallout, he checked in on you and asked if you were okay. He even took you out to distract you in place of Atsumu, who had a brand deal scheduled at the time outside the city, and Osamu, who was also out of the district for an internship. Sakusa stayed with you as you cried and cared for you more than you could ever ask. Before that, you began to think your childhood crush on him was fading but that experience when you were seventeen was when you realized that your feelings for Sakusa never left even with the distance life took him, and it probably never will.

“I’m hopeless,” you mumble to yourself, letting go of Atsumu’s drumsticks.

It only took a few minutes for Osamu to call you saying you’re going because he still had work early the following morning, all the guys say their farewells to you two. Atsumu was a tad bit over-dramatic because he was a tad bit drunk. Osamu had to pull you away from Atsumu’s embrace. You met eyes with Sakusa, giving a smile reserved just for him before Osamu completely dragged you out, noticing you were quote en quote ‘making goo-goo eyes at the poor guy’.

The rest of your summer break was uneventful.

You managed to beg Osamu to take you to a pottery class on his day off, it was fun at first but Osamu showed extraordinary skill in pottery that made your work pale in comparison. You sent a picture of you two to the group chat you had with Atsumu and the latter spammed crying emojis and threatening gifs. On Atsumu’s day off you went to a bake-your-own cake store with him, his platinum blonde hair begged for attention so you forced him to wear a beanie the whole time.

The end of break was nearing and in your last week, your parents had gone back so you had a nice complete family dinner for once. The next few days you started to pack your things again because you had to move back into your dorm, were three suitcases and a large shoulder bag a bit excessive for a two-month stay? You’d like to think not.

You were posed with another problem though, Osamu couldn’t take you back to your university because he had some three-day team building thing he was going to a day before you were supposed to go back. You thought it would be okay because you asked Atsumu and he was free that afternoon, he said that he just had a promotional shoot in the morning but he would be able to pick you up, so you thought you were all settled.

On the day itself, you stood in the lobby of Osamu’s building when Atsumu sent a message. You were starting to get irritated because he was supposed to be here by four, he promised to be here by four.

annoying blonde brother 4:00 PM I CANT MAKE IT IM SO SORRY :<< I TRIED TO I SWEAR THE SHOOT IS STILL GOING ON I THOUGHT IT WOULD FINISH EARLY BUT WE APPARENTLY HAD SOLO SHOTS???

you 4:01 PM why do u hate me :(

annoying blonde brother 4:01 PM I DONT IM SORRY IM SO SORRY :<<<< HB U WAIT IN OSAMUS APT FOR A BIT?? ITLL ONLY TAKE AN HOUR MORE I THINK

you 4:02 PM i cant i alr locked the door and left the keys inside because you were supposed to be here by now.

annoying blonde brother 4:03 PM I KNOW I KNOW IM SORRY OK WAIT THERE IN THE LOBBY ILL GET SOMEONE TO PICK YOU UP

You frown as you sit on one of the lobby chairs, alone with the receptionist. You pull your two suitcases against your legs and hug your shoulder bag, having nothing better to do. You scroll aimlessly on your feed, it wasn’t like you could do anything but wait as patiently as you possibly can in your irritable state for this ‘someone’ Atsumu is roping in to help you.

annoying blonde brother 4:11 PM he’s on his way

Atsumu neglects to tell you who this ‘he’ is. How were you supposed to know who it was? You don’t question it further, not replying back, your own form of rebellion. How could he promise to pick you up and then tell you at the last minute that he couldn’t? He had major making up to do, that’s for sure, you were not going to let him off easily. With that final thought, you were already browsing for links to clothes you’d make him buy for you.

Thirty minutes passed and you were already getting bored out of your mind. You had your head buried in your bag when your phone buzzed, signaling that it received a notification. You almost dropped your phone when you saw who it was from.

kiyo <3 4:43 PM I’m outside Osamu’s building

Sakusa? Sakusa was the one Atsumu asked to pick you up? Unbelievable. Was it his way of making up to you? What? Huh? That doesn’t seem like something Atsumu would do. What? You were puzzled, but oddly happy.

Once you got yourself together you stood up, making sure to fix yourself up, looking at your reflection on the walls. You hurriedly gather your suitcases, slinging your bag over your shoulder. You talk yourself into calming down, since this was the first time you’d be talking to him in a while. You refrained from messaging him, practicing your self-restraint, but you missed talking to him so much, even when his replies barely held any substance.

Walking towards the pavement, your heels creating a clicking sound. You held your breath as you finally saw his familiar figure leaning against his sleek black ride, was it a new car? You’ve never seen it before. His hair was styled from their usual free curls and he wore a classy white button up that hugged his body nicely. He looked straight out of a magazine—which was probably exactly where he came from. He looked up at you and your luggage.

He started walking closer to you and all you could say was a breathless, “Hi.”

Sakusa reaches for your suitcases and you gladly let him take them, “Straight to your dormitory?”

“Atsumu asked you?” you asked once you got your thoughts organized coherently, it was a spectacle you still couldn’t comprehend.

You saw that same ghost of a smile on Sakusa’s face again, “He asked Akaashi and Suna first, but they were still doing their solo shots. He even tried asking our manager. I was the last person he asked, even though I was the first one to finish, he looked pained doing it too.”

That sounded more like Atsumu, a smile plastered on your face, “Even better, fate wants us to be together.”

Sakusa shook his head as he got your shoulder bag. You followed him as he put your luggage in the back of his car, he told you to get in and you complied, walking over to the passenger seat. Happy to use this as a way to spend more time with him, and catch up with what you’ve missed in the month and a half you made yourself Sakusa-free (that didn’t mean you had to stay away from the media though, he posted exactly one instagram post that you liked immediately), that was technically abiding by being contactless.

The seatbelt clicks into place and you wait for Sakusa to get inside, you are silent as he starts to drive.

“Thank you for picking me up,” you say, hoping to start a conversation. Your university wasn’t that far from Osamu’s, probably around thirty to forty minutes away, but you didn’t know how to drive and you didn’t want to take the train with all of your necessities.

“Do you need help bringing your luggage up once we’re there?” Sakusa asks, steering, your eyes following the movement of his hands. “Uhm,” you wanted to lie and say yes, “No, I don’t think so. We have an elevator, and it would be more troublesome for you because you’d have to sign a sheet to go in. You might run into a fan too, you might see your name trending again.”

“Okay,” was his only reply. He continued to drive silently as you moped while thinking of a way to start another conversation. Time was ticking and you hadn’t realized almost an hour drive could feel this fast, does the world hate you after all?

Your brain cells were saved when Sakusa spoke next, “Have you thought about it?”

“About what?” you rubbed your palms to keep warmth, confused by what he meant.

“Dating guys in your university,” he states plainly. Your mouth hung slightly as you were struck by the memory of your conversation out at Atsumu’s patio.

You purse your lips, gripping the edge of your leather seat, “Absolutely not.”

Sakusa surprised you yet again with what he said next, “I thought that was the reason why you weren’t messaging me.”

You gaped at him, disbelieving. You didn’t even think he would notice! Suddenly you were overcome with a burst of joy, “You missed me?” you sounded way too happy for your own good.

Sakusa went completely silent. You knew you weren’t going to get an answer out of him but you were still happy with the thought of him waiting for a message from you. It was likely enough to keep you happy to be simply looking out the window on the whole way to your dormitory. But of course, you don’t miss the chance to talk to him more. You asked him a few questions here and there like how the new album was holding up and the shoots and other important marketing stuff the band needed to attend to. He answered in short one-word answers and if you were lucky, a full sentence.

Your good mood toned down when you were on the street that led to your dormitory, knowing you’d have to say goodbye to him again soon.

“Why don’t you consider it?” Sakusa asks as he stops the car in front of your building, “Seeing other guys?”

It was a bit funny how your mood went completely sour, when you were brimming with happiness a few minutes ago. Your expression was passive as you say, “I told you, you’re the only one I like,” he was bringing this up again. He couldn’t get it through his head that you would only ever like him.

“You started liking me when you were barely a teen,” Sakusa references your confession to him, where you admitted that you’ve liked him ever since you met him, “You should give yourself a chance to look at other people.”

“You won’t even look at me,” your shoulders curled, you felt like your chest was caving in on you with how loud it beat. You wondered if he could hear it.

“You’re better off with another guy,” Sakusa insists, leaning against his seat, exasperated, as if you were draining the life out of him.

“So you keep saying,” you say in almost a whisper, “Is it because you’re already seeing someone?” you ask, your mind thinking of other possible reasons as to why he didn’t even seem to want to let you like him. If he were to say that he was, you’d stop. Even though it would hurt.

“No,” Sakusa sighs, completely turning off the engine.

“Then why can’t you even let me like you?” your voice almost cracks at the end. Your nails dug in your palm.

“Stop being stubborn, Miya,” Sakusa faces you completely, his jaw set, his eyes, the only tell for his actual emotions.

“Am I not pretty enough?” it was out before you could control yourself, you couldn’t even look him in the eye because of how ashamed you were at your question, “Sorry, I know you’re not the type to be shallow about appearances. But, of course you still have standards and that… might not… be me,” your voice getting fainter the more you talk.

There was a ringing in your ear, you felt lightheaded. Thinking of ways to remedy the situation, a sour situation you turned even more dour. You started feeling anxious in your seat, too bare, too exposed.

A touch was what got you out of your blinded stupor. A touch that was cold against your warmth.

“That’s not it at all,” a gentle hand raised your chin so you could meet his gaze, “You’re getting it all wrong.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize again, guilty you were letting him in your emotional frenzy.

“Don’t… apologize,” Sakusa began looking frustrated, his jaw ticking and his eyes shaky, “You’re beautiful, okay?”

You blinked, once, twice.

Despite all the signs that you weren’t dreaming, you still weren’t convinced this was your reality. Sakusa just called you beautiful. Sakusa told you, you were beautiful. Sakusa called you beautiful. No matter how many times you rephrase it in your head, it still felt unreal. You dumbly stared back, not knowing what to reply.

“I, uhm, o-okay?” you embarrassingly stutter out. Sakusa found you beautiful.

“I’m only looking out for you,” the hand still on your chin caressed your cheek. His words brought your senses back. You were afraid he was going on another tirade about how your affection shouldn’t be directed at him. That you should find some other guy to pour your heart out to. That no matter what you do, he would never be the one for you.

You nibbled on your lower lip, observing as his gaze fell down to it and back up to meet your unsteady stare.

“But…” you began, thinking of comebacks, reasons, anything, “I like you,” your eyes fluttered, in the end, that was the only thing that mattered to you, “So much,” your voice was fragile, and you could barely look at him straight.

You watched as his gaze sharpened, you waited seconds for a frustrated remark but it never happened. Instead, it looked like he was contemplating something. You waited, patient, willing to take whatever it was that he was willing to give you. And then finally, as if he couldn’t resist it, he tilted your head to the side and slowly, softly, lips barely grazing your cheek. Like his touch, it was cool, yet it gave you warmth all the same as heat rose to your face.

It was quick, and abrupt, and he let go of you immediately after as if your skin gave him burns.

Sakusa was tense as he opened the door and stepped out of the car. You gulped, your heart wanted to escape your chest, and you could hardly remember how to breathe.

Steadily—as steady as you can manage in your current state—and carefully, a hand went up to hold your cheek where Sakusa kissed you.

a/n — alright so i went a lil crazy with this one BUT MY EXCUSE IS i am in love with sakusa kiyoomi HES SO UGH mine

general taglist + @luvrsthrist @cherries4denki @cloud-lyy @misscaller06 @noideawhothatis @wolffmaiden @rivaiken @wooasecret @nicerthanu @sukunasrealgf @ris-krispie @seiamor @electriclovei @leeknowsarchive @todorokiskitten @rory-cakes @sexyandcringe @rinheartshyunlix @wh0zumy2k @iluv-ace @xiakyo @sanaexus @clyches @noble-17 @renardiererin @gra-eae @ilyless @girlincrimson

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angelkiyo · 1 year ago

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modern au high school hcs for my fav haikyuu boys based on my high school experiences + romance hcs <3

[suna rintaro, kageyama tobio, miya atsumu, kita shinsuke]

a/n- as someone whos high school is very populated and downtown, my takes on these are very correct. trust me bro. i’m bored too 🎧 — part two

suna rintaro

my man here is not stupid trust in a bitch (hardly tries and still gets a 3.5)

he would def run a fight account in high school (coming from someone who also did the same)

the name would be smt like 'inarizaki_fightclub' or 'inarizaki.bops'

atsumu would be the first submission to 'inarizaki.bops'

suna, in modern day high school, is the type of person who would also probably wear essentials fog or own shoes like onitsuka tigers

his type of style would be casual streetwear

would also have a secret finsta dedicated to random shit like his fits or random fights of the twins

would make shared playlists on spotify w you and would also stalk your airbuds to see what you listen to in order to add that type of music on your shared playlists

"oh? yeah i fuck with that artist too."

regular ft calls and sends you dark humor tiktoks

unlike the hcs some ppl do calling him a "stoner", he'd prob judge and cringe.

he's a volleyball athlete for god's sake

very trusting person w you and would be talking massive shit w you abt other people

you and him would co-run the 'inarizaki.bops' acc and you would make the captions

dates would include: at either of you guys’ places and movie nights, cozy dates and quality time

artists he would listen to: kendrick lamar, pinkpantheress, artic monkeys, a$ap rocky, xxxtentacion

kageyama tobio

now this guy...he's the type of person to take honors or aps, not try and still get at least a 3 on the exam (avg gpa would be 2.8 or smt)

he would def wear skinny joggers and nike crewnecks (ON A GOOD DAY) with overused air forces.

he would wear black air forces...

would have an insta account that doesn't post shit, but would still manage to get a good 500 followers.

central cee glazer

a p.e. tryhard

"bruh c'mon. it's not that fucking hard, just kick the ball."

if he didn't play volleyball, he would play basketball and be FUCKING GOOD.

one of those shy but very active kids.

would def always be texting you all the time if you're not there.

you two sharing an airpod while riding the bus tgt would very much be almost everyday

he would def wanna try to study w you during study hall and you two would be in a spotify friend jam (where you listen to the same music at the same time)

imessage games every time he's bored

you're the main reason he's even passing his classes in the first place.

dates would include: long walks around the city and the park. def a cute date

artists he would listen to: drake, lil uzi vert, playboi carti, mac miller, travis scott, yeat

miya atsumu

on track student, barely. (2.3 gpa)

one ap but it’s bringing his unweighted down HEAVY

would have a heart attack if he noticed his shoes creased and have a heavy nike/jordan collection

snapchat 'wyll' warrior and his snap score is most likely at least at 500k

be on drake's side during the kendrick beef

he would def have around 1.2k followers on his pub insta

if yall were dating, he would only follow you and a hypewear brand like bape or essentials

would wear those red plaid pants if inarizaki didn’t have a uniform

also an essentials wearer and ex-highlighter kid

car fanatic

would send you videos like “which toilet would you shit the hardest in”

his reposts would be ALL ABOUT YOU (then some complaining abt having a twin/volleyball tiktoks)

he would most def have a highlight abt you

but… he’s the most annoying p.e. tryhard EVER.

your friends most likely think he's weird and a bop

you would have to keep making excuses abt him

"he’s not that bad!!”

babe, he is most likely a dior sauvage user and he's on 'inarizaki.bops'…

dates would include: wingstop or fast food late at night + shopping sprees (he hypes you up when trying clothes on)

artists he would listen to: drake, playboi carti, charlie puth, sexyy red, gunna

kita shinsuke

he would most def be on stuco and national honors society (3.9 gpa)

would walk you home NO MATTER THE DISTANCE.

is the type to have a private insta with less than 100 followers bc he would be private

would post you and tag you. hard launch type of man.

GREENEST FLAG EVER.

would probably repost ‘inarizaki.bops’ posts ironically since they include his teammates

he would def wear casual but not hella casual either

imagine linen pants, baggy jeans, and the occasional stussy shirt

kita would be the type of guy to write you those extravagant love letters that are 4 feet tall

would write your initial on the side of his shoes (idk if yall have seen that but yeah)

he would def also get you those forever rose bouquets

the two of you would def be playing badminton together as a hobby

study hall w him is serious and also fun

“okay okay, now let’s get back to these functions”

dates would include: taking you out to dinner and cute cafe dates

artists he would listen to: the weeknd, the 1975, eyedress, wave to earth

part two

#haikyuu #miya atsumu #kita shinsuke #fluff #haikyuu fluff #kageyama tobio #kageyama x reader #suna x reader #suna rintaro #atsumu x reader #kita x reader #haikyuu x reader #kageyama #kita #suna

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tsu-kitty · 1 year ago

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𝓸𝓅𝓉𝒾𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓉𝒾𝒸

♡ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 › 2.0k

♡ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 › atsumu x reader, gn!reader, atsumu gets in an off-page fight over the reader, fluff.

♡ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 › after getting stood-up on a date, atsumu sees his chance to swoop in and steal your heart.

♡ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 › i only recently jumped on the atsumu train, so he may be a bit ooc, but i'm in love with what i wrote so hopefully you will be too and you can forgive me. also, not proofread, sorry, i was so excited to post this.

The tears streaming down your cheeks were cold and salty and stung when the winter wind hit your face. You hated that you were crying. It wasn’t like you were heartbroken. You didn’t even like the guy, you barely knew him. It was more that you were a hopeless romantic who accepted an offer for a coffee date despite knowing little more than the guy's name. Love was unpredictable, a mysterious being that worked in round-about ways. Maybe she had chosen this unknown blue-eyed boy from the class below yours to be your soul mate.

Alas, after stopping you on your way home to ask if you'd like to go on a date and exchanging numbers, he hadn't even possessed the human decency to reply to your messages asking where he was, if he was running late. The only response you received was the minuscule text under your message bubble reading “read”.

So, no, you weren't heartbroken. You weren't entirely sure what you were. Disappointed? Embarrassed? Both seemed to fit. Regardless, you tried to find the bright side. Maybe you’d just dodged a bullet. If his actions today spoke anything of his character, then he would have been a lousy boyfriend.

Still, here you were, dressed up in a cute but warm baby blue and pink outfit, ready for at least a morning of cosy winter date activities. It would really be a waste of a cute outfit if you were to go home immediately. Who said you couldn’t take yourself on a nice date?

Wiping the tears off your face, you spun on your heel, determined to not let the day be unhappy. First, you needed a snack and a warm beverage. There was an adorable cafe in the other direction that was miles better than the one your not-date had suggested.

“Oh, Y/N!”

“Atsumu?”

The tall blonde boy grinned, wiping the light sheen of sweat on his forehead away. Judging by his shoes and athletic attire, he was out on a run. “Hey, Y/N. How are you? What are you doing here?”

Miya Atsumu wasn’t someone you would consider yourself to be particularly close to, but the two of you had miraculously managed to be in the same class all throughout highschool. So, you knew him more than an acquaintance would, but less than a friend. However, you were on a given-name basis, mostly due to him having a twin brother. Atsumu had been seated behind you this first semester, though, so there was always potential for the relationship to bloom into friendship. Still, you weren’t there yet, so confessing to being stood up just moments ago was out of the question.

“Oh, um, you know, just the usual—”

“You’re crying.”

Suddenly, he was right in front of you, his nose barely ten centimetres from yours, cupping your face in his big, rough hands. His chocolate eyes were wide and concerned, pulling his thick brows together.

“N-No, I’m not,” you stuttered, taken aback by Atsumu’s unexpected closeness. Your heart was pounding against your chest, anxiety pushing its speed faster and faster. If he got any closer, you’re sure you would pass out.

“Your eyes are red and watery,” he said with a seriousness you didn’t know he possessed.

“I have allergies,” you lied.

“Y/N, I’m not a complete idiot.”

“Listen, I’m fine,” you said, trying your best to avoid his eyes as you peeled his hands off your face. They were too close, too intense. “I promise. I’m already over it.”

“Okay, then what were you crying about?” he asked, bending his head to try to follow your gaze.

“It’s nothing really. I just got stood up.” You forced a smile. “But it’s okay, I’m over it really. I barely even knew the guy.”

Something in Atsumu’s expression shifted darkly before landing on a bright smile. “Oh, really? I’m sorry that happened to you. Who were you supposed to meet?”

Suspicion tickled at the back of your mind, but you told him anyway. “Furutani Hide.”

“Furutani, huh?” Atsumu pondered. “Nah, can’t say I know the guy.”

“I don’t really either,” you confessed. “He asked me out randomly at school.”

“Why’d you say yes if you don’t know him?” asked Atsumu, brows pulling together again.

It occurred to you at that moment that his eyebrows were a lot darker than the rest of his hair. Was he a fake blonde? How had you never noticed before? His hair was kind of an unusual colour now that you really considered it.

“Well, uh… I don’t know…” you said sheepishly, twisting a ring around your finger. “My friends say I’m a hopeless romantic . I think I’m just… optimistic.”

You raised your eyes to Atsumu’s and found him staring at you eyes wide and mouth agape. Then he cleared his throat and regained his composure. Why he lost it in the first place, you weren’t sure. Maybe he… No. Had you not learnt your lesson? This was the kind of thinking that had led to you crying your eyes out not five minutes ago.

“Either way,” Atsumu said, scratching the back of his head, “it’s his loss. I mean, can’t say I know you super well, but just from being your classmate for three years, I can tell you’re a pretty cool person.”

His words caught you off guard.

“Really?”

Atsumu shrugged. “Yeah.”

A gentle heat rose in your cheeks. “Wow. Thanks, Atsumu.”

“Eh, no problem. Look, I gotta go, but I’ll see you at school on Monday. Try to cheer up in the meantime, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered, returning his wave as he started up his jog again.

By the time Monday rolled around, you were completely over being stood-up and your brain was on its way to forgetting about the whole incident. That was until you happened to be passing by the teacher’s lounge when the door slid open and out trudged Furutani Hide, slouched and dazed, looking extremely worse for wear. His hair was sticking up in odd places, his tie was screwed drastically to the left against his white shirt which was oddly dirty. Worst of all, one of his nostrils was plugged with a tissue and the other was freely leaking crimson blood.

At the sight of you, Furutani’s back straightened before he snapped at the waist, blurting, “Y/F/N, I’m terribly sorry for asking you on a date then standing you up. I am a spineless coward and will never do such a thing to anyone ever again. I will stay out of your way and never bother you again.”

You watched slack-jawed as he bowed twice more then sprinted out of sight, down the hallway, nearly knocking over three other students.

“Well, I’m glad we got that cleared up.”

Turning back to the teacher’s lounge, you watched Miya Atsumu waltz towards you, hands tucked into his trouser pockets, as casual and confident as ever. He was sporting an all-too-pleased-with-himself smirk and bandaid on his cheekbone. His hair and tie were also askew, but in a slightly purposeful way. His shirt was relatively spotless but his trouser knees were stained with dust.

“Atsumu…” you said slowly, piecing together a scenario that you hoped both did and did not happen. “What did you do…?”

“Bold of you to assume I did anything,” he replied coyly, stepping almost as close as he had when you last spoke to him. “The pig probably just had a change of heart.”

“Atsumu,” you repeated, harsher than before.

Sighing, he rolled his head around his shoulders then met your questioning gaze. Were you really going to make him say it?

You didn’t falter, making a show of crossing your arms and shifting your weight onto one leg, popping your hip out.

Atsumu sighed again. “Fine. I didn’t like the fact that he stood you up on your date. Soooo… I may or may not have…” He avoided your gaze. “... told him he needed to apologise to you when I saw him at lunch.”

You waited.

“And punched him in the face.”

“Atsumu!” you gasped. Yes, you had assumed some sort of fight had occurred, but you hadn’t expected Atsumu to be the instigator. “What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t really.”

At least he could admit it.

“I was just really pissed off,” he said, shrugging.

Whilst you were flattered that a boy would get into a fight on your behalf, you really couldn’t condone that sort of behaviour. “There was no need for you to be pissed off,” you scolded him.

“He was literally flirting with some other girl,” Atsumu exclaimed, hands flying out of his pockets to emphasise the drama of his statement.

“That doesn’t matter, Atsumu,” you continued. “I’m over it. Way over it. Even if I wasn’t, it hardly concerns you, so why would you—”

“Uh, yeah, it kinda does concern me, ‘specially when it’s hurting the person that I like.”

You froze. “Oh.”

Atsumu rolled his eyes. Now, it was his turn to cross his arms judgmentally. “Yeah, ‘oh’.”

At his unexpected confession, all the words in your vocabulary had left you along with the air in your lungs.

Atsumu continued with his confession, full steam ahead stepping closer to until your own retaliation steps had you almost pressed against the wall. “You know, for someone who’s friends would call them a hopeless romantic but would prefer to describe themselves as ‘optimistic’, you really are blind to romance.” He placed his hands on the windowsill on either side of your body, caging you between his arms. “I’ve been flirting with you since the start of the year when I got seated behind you.”

Your heart was beating like you’d just run a marathon, pounding against your ribcage. You regained just enough words and air to mumble, “I thought you were just being friendly.”

“Oh my God, Y/N,” Atsumu groaned, physically deflating. “You’re so dense.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t apologise,” Atsumu replied, lifting one arm to tuck a stray hair behind your ear. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I should have just been straight forward with my feelings.” His fingers trailed down and around to your jaw to pull your gaze up to his. “I like you, Y/N. Have for a while now.”

Butterflies burst in your stomach, the heat from their frantic fluttering flowing into your cheeks.

“And, I dunno if you’re, like, traumatised by your last date, but I’m still gonna ask. Do you want to go out with me after school today? I can guarantee you there is no chance of me ditching. Plus, I sit right behind you, so you can keep an eye on me the whole time.”

He waited patiently while you processed his words. His sunny brown eyes flecked with gold and bronze watched you intensely, anticipation steadily building. It was clear to you that he was being sincere when he said he liked you. The way he was looking at you was something you had fantasised about over and over: a look of fondness and hope and unwavering affection. It was an optimist’s dream come true.

You were right in your thoughts on love. Not about her choosing Furutani Hide as your soulmate, but about her being an unpredictable, mysterious being that worked in round-about ways. Who could have predicted that the final push for you and Atsumu would be him beating up the guy that stood you up? Not even the most hopeless of romantics.

“Yes,” you finally replied, causing Atsumu to flinch, his face lighting up. “I do want to go out with you.”

Much to your amusement, Atsumu jumped for joy, fist pumping the air in excitement. “Oh my God, that’s great. I’m so hyped, you don’t even know.”

You giggled. Yeah, this seemed more like your soulmate.

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyu x reader #haikyu imagines #haikyuu x gn!reader #haikyu fluff #haikyuu atsumu #atsumu miya #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu imagines #atsumu fluff #atsumu x gn!reader

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aajxs · 1 year ago

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DRESSED FOR REVENGE OSAMU MIYA !

🍙 : ̗̀➛ when you find out your boyfriend of three years cheated on you for months before finally breaking up with you, payback is the only thing on your mind. what more are you to do other than get with his twin brother as a form of revenge, and maybe something a bit more.

CONTENTS // mentions of cheating / atsumu slander (still my husband don't get it twisted) / reader getting her get back / NSFW! / fingering / oral (f! receiving) / biting / praise kink / hair pulling / mentions of alcohol + alcohol consumption / pussydrunk osamu / cum eating..? / vulgar language / pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess, good girl (is that even a pet name??? girl idk), sweet girl) / unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it) / the d was fireeeeee ( unedited; 4.5k. )

PAIRINGS // osamu miya x fem!reader

A/N // where my fellow osamu girlies at 😓???

I RECOMMEND LISTENING TO. . . ESCAPISM. BY RAYE . . .WHILE READING.

// MASTERLIST .

OSAMU MIYA thinks his brother might be the biggest idiot he's ever met.

You and Atsumu have been dating for three years, and he's thrown it all down the drain simply because you'd been too busy to have sex. It's almost hypocritical. He's just as busy as you, and yet he broke up with you over something so simple. What ever happened to communication is key?

Atsumu has always been the friendly type, and honestly you think you're too numb to care when his brother texts you to tell you that he moved on pretty quick. Too quick, if you're being honest.

You decide that, in your horrendous post breakup state, you should go to a club. Seeing as the entire fucking world knows that you're the girl famous volleyball player Atsumu Miya fumbled horrendously, (at least according to the thousands of comments on his Instagram telling him he downgraded) you think it'll be pretty easy to find a guy to fuck and post on your own Instagram.

A halter top hugs your figure, cropped just above your bellybutton piercing. The black miniskirt you're wearing doesn't leave much to the imagination. The golden bracelets on your wrists create a satisfying jangle with each movement, and a golden necklace is paired to match. Your makeup is simple yet flattering, and it's obvious you're here for straight business as you strut inside the massive club.

Although, you don't even get the chance to find a seat at the bar when you find a familiar face. At first you think it's Atsumu, but you're quickly proved wrong.

Osamu didn't always have slightly softer features than his brother, they used to be identical. But, after highschool, you think he got tired of being the other Miya and decided to look striking in his own way.

You're met with dull and dark blue-grey eyes when your gaze locks with his. His hair is a bit more brown nowadays, but it still has that unmistakable shade of grey box dye mixed in. You don't miss the way he lights up at the sight of you before waving you over with a smile. You pause in thought for a few moments.

Is Atsumu here with him? What if him and his new girlfriend are here? If so, you're probably cooked. Although, when it comes down to it, you have no reason to be so intimidated. You're here for yourself, aren't you? So with that, you return Osamu's charming smile and walk over to him.

He gets up to greet you with a hug, and you happily accept it. "What's got you all dolled up?" He smiles playfully.

"I finally decided to get out after being cooped up for so long after the breakup. Think it's about time I get back out there, don't you?" You tilt your head as you sit down on the cushioned stool next to his.

He hums, "Ah shit, almost forgot about that." He says a bit nervously. A large hand meets the back of his neck as he sends you a closed eyed smile. Your eyes land on his bicep almost immediately, but you're quick to avert your gaze as to not get caught staring.

"It's alright. He's moved on hasn't he? I need to catch up." You sigh as you order a drink. Osamu, with a few protests from you, puts it on his tab.

"Oh yeah, how long have they been datin'? Four months now, if I recall." He says casually, watching as the bartender places the cold drink in front of you.

You thank the bartender before pausing. Four months? You and Atsumu only broke up two months ago. Osamu must notice the way you freeze because he tilts his head curiously.

"You alright?" He asks, blinking. The first thought that comes to his mind was that maybe it was a little too soon to mention how long they've been dating.

You don't answer the question, but quickly ask another. "When did Atsumu tell you we broke up?" You ask, your perfect brows creasing together slightly. Osamu narrows his eyes in thought.

"Uh.. around the time him and the new girl started dating." He answers. You pause again.

"We broke up two months ago." You say, rubbing your brow. Osamu stares at you in shock for a few moments. He's no longer leaning into his hand, now staring at you as if you'll break down at any second.

Honestly, if it were up to Osamu you would've never gotten with his brother in the first place.

You met Osamu during your first year of highschool and only when you became the manager for their volleyball team did you meet Atsumu. You hit it off instantly and started dating a few months before your second year.

Osamu was bummed because he obviously wanted you first and his brother knew that yet still got with you because the majority of the time Atsumu only cares about himself. You were basically the only person who liked him in highschool aside from girls who'd never met him and only chased after his looks.

He watched from afar as his brother treated you like shit and talked about other girls behind your back. Atsumu never acted on them (at least as far as Osamu knows), so there was never really any reason to tell you unless he wanted to sabotage your entire relationship for his own gain. Back then? He would've never done that because as long as you're happy, right? But now.. Osamu has waited too long to be this close to you without his brother at your side.

And right now, Osamu thinks that he could still have a chance. You're obviously still upset about Atsumu, but you wouldn't have come to this specific club if you didn't think you'd find a one night stand.

"You good?" He asks. Osamu has never been good at reading feelings (he's much better at expressing them, you know because you've watched him and Atsumu go at it multiple times over the smallest things. Maybe it's just a twin thing, but they always fought more than most siblings), so he isn't exactly sure what to say as you disassociate for a few moments.

Your nose scrunches slightly, "I'm alright. I guess I just didn't expect him to cheat after all we went through together." You respond belatedly.

Osamu let's out a small oh as he continues gazing at you.

Atsumu didn't just fumble you, he had the bag and watched as every single item fell out of it. How he could ever cheat on you, Osamu will never know. His brother has always been the more idiotic of the two.

"Anyways," You speak up a bit hesitantly, obviously still stuck on the unbearably recent new that your boyfriend of three years cheated on you, "What're you doing here, 'samu?" You ask, blinking away your thoughts as you tilt your head.

You take another sip of your drink, swirling the ice for a moment before you down the alcohol. Your eyes are still locked with his as you do so, awaiting a response to your question.

He stutters for a few moments, averting his gaze before answering. "I jus' needed to get out. Onigiri Miya has been pretty busy lately 'nd I think I deserve a break." Osamu responds, quickly chugging the rest of his drink.

You have to hold back a gasp as you watch some of the liquid drip from his plump lips and down his neck. The bead trails down his adams apple and he quickly wipes the liquid before it can disappear under the white button down shirt he's wearing.

The top few buttons are undone, giving you a peek of his chest. There's a necklace around his neck that you don't recognize, but the way the tiny chain falls on his tanned chest catches your eye.

He's always been attractive, but he just looks so painfully good under the strobing lights inside this crowded club. The multicolored lights ignite his features in ways you've never exactly paid attention to, and you can't help but trace each and every detail of his face with your eyes.

Osamu eyes you for a moment before they trail over to your empty drink. "D'ya want another?" He asks, snatching you away from your lewd thoughts about what you might do with his mouth.

"I don't think you want to know what I want." The words fly out of your mouth before you can think, and you quickly regret them as his wide eyes lock with yours.

You're stammering to find an excuse, but when a cheeky smirk appears on his face, you pause.

"I think I do." He tilts his head playfully, and you can't conceal the intake of breath those words cause.

A sudden confidence spikes through you, "I want you to take me back to yours." Your lips twitch up, and his smile grows.

"Careful. I might take you seriously if you keep lookin' at me like that." He clicks his tongue in response.

You trace the brim of your glass with your fresh set of nails, a low clink sounding out when you tap it a few times. "And who said I wasn't serious?" You flirt shamelessly, not shying away from his strong gaze.

And that's how you got to his house, your lips smashed against his as he guides the two of you through the front door. He uses his foot to kick the door shut before pinning you to the nearest thing possible.

He can taste your flavored lipgloss as your lips move in perfect synchrony, a sweet mix of strawberry and the slightest bit of bourbon. Your tongues are intertwined and you're basically eating each other's faces.

Osamu's strong hands are on the exposed skin of your waist, tightly gripping your sides as he pulls away from the sloppy kiss. A curse leaves your lips as his lips meet your jaw, then begin moving down your neck. He nips and sucks at your supple skin as he lifts you into his arms effortlessly.

Gasps leave your swollen lips as he carries you to his bedroom. If not for you, he would've hit the wall on his way. As soon as he reaches his room, he closes the door with his foot once again and lays you down on his King bed.

He skillfully pulls off your strapped heels, softly putting them on the floor near his bed as he climbs on top of you. "Take off your shirt, 'samu." You order breathlessly, and he hazily smirks.

"Of course." He says playfully as he tugs the black shirt off his body. Your eyes are met with thick muscle, something you should've expected but didn't. Your nails run down his abs, tickling his skin. Your fingers trace every indention of his toned chest his his lips meet with your neck again.

The softest moans leave your mouth as he suckles on your skin, focused solely on leaving marks. He only pulls away to take your top off before he gets straight back to work. Crisp air hits your once covered skin, sending a subtle shiver down your spine. His thumbs run over your hardened nipples, a shaky gasp leaving your lips when he pinches them.

You don't think you've been this wet in your life. Your arousal is painfully obvious as your legs squeeze together, a lousy attempt at taming the waterfall between your thighs.

Osamu suddenly swirls his tongue around one of your sensitive nipples, making you moan out loud. You bite your lip to conceal anymore noises.

"Don't get all shy now, pretty." He hoaresly mutters into your breast, his voice sending vibrations through your body. Your lips part at the statement, and you can feel him smirk into your skin as he licks and sucks and nips at your sensitive nipple.

Your hands make their way to his toned back, trailing over taut muscle as you reach into his hair. Your tight grip and occasional pulls have Osamu going crazy.

Honestly, he could care less if he's just a rebound. You're the most beautiful woman alive and he gets to feel you. You might consider yourself his brother's leftovers, but he considers you as a full course meal.

Your entire being is encased in warmth, and every time his lips touch your body you only get hotter. Every single touch and lick and bite only grows everlasting fire in the depths of your weak soul.

You're so fucking pretty under him, making the sweetest noises he's waited years to hear. It's not long until he's finally pulling your skirt and lacy panties down to your ankles, basking in the mess between your legs.

"All this for me?" He says playfully, glancing up at you. You tug his hair out of annoyance and he groans. You must've liked that sound because he doesn't miss the way your pussy clenches around nothing.

"What do you want me to do?" He asks, gazing up at you with sincere eyes. The deepness in his look ignites things that you've never experienced before. He's driving you mad.

You gasp, "Just fuck me, Osamu." He smirks at your bluntness.

The whimper of his name has him tugging his pants off in mere seconds. He licks his lips as he swipes two fingers along your wetness, eliciting a moan from you.

You look so good from this angle.

He inserts two fingers without any trouble, your pretty cunt sucking his fingers in as they graze your gummy walls. He pumps thick fingers in and out of you for a moment before pulling them out and placing them in his mouth. You taste like heaven, and he hopes you miss the way his eyes roll back.

"Holy shit," He groans as he licks his fingers clean, "'m sorry, I gotta taste you first." He apologizes for no reason in particular. It's not like you don't enjoy the way his mouth latches on your cunt.

He's taking his sweet time, and it seems to you like he's afraid of what might happen if he goes all out.

You grab his hair and pull him from between your legs, leaning forward to cup his jaw a bit roughly. "If you're scared to do it right, Osamu, you don't have to eat me out at all." You say breathlessly and demandingly. You could probably cum just by the look on his face right now. His mouth and chin is dribbling with a mix of your slick and his own saliva, and his dark eyes are half lidded in a haze of pleasure. He's staring up at you like he's never seen anything greater (he hasn't).

He nods, but you're not quite satisfied with the curt movement. "Use your words, baby." You order as you angle his head up a bit more. A small gasp leaves your lips when his grip on your thighs tightens.

"Yes ma'am." He responds, a slight attitude in his hoarse voice. You're so hot when you order him around.

He smirks and when you let go of his face he gets straight to work. He's slurping up your juices and shoving his tongue inside your sopping pussy like a man starved. Osamu has never been one for messes, but he can't help but be sloppy as he eats you.

Osamu has never been anything less than diligent when it comes to things that he deems important, so he's making sure to put his full focus into devouring you whole.

A chainlink of moans exit your mouth as he rubs your clit in circles while practically drinking your insides. With every buck of your hips and mewl from your plump lips, Osamu groans ever so slightly into your tight hole. They send shockwaves through your body, that familiar knot slowly tying itself in your stomach with every grunt.

The chants of his name rolling off your tongue are like music to his deprived ears. You sound like an angel to him, and all he wants to do is keep eliciting lewd sounds from you. Your tight grip on his hair is making him even more aroused.

Salty tears are starting to run down your face, staining your face with your mascara. Osamu feels like an asshole for enjoying your cries and pleas for more.

"F-f-uhh-ck, 'samu!" You manage, loud moans leaving your throat. You don't remember the last time you felt this good. The knot in your abdomen grows tighter by the second and your moans grow louder with each particular flick of his tongue. You're seeing actual stars at this point.

"Ah, shit- G'na cum, Osamu!" You moan just as your high hits. The earth seems to stutter on its axis as you release on his face, your vision fading into a blinding white and your legs shaking profusely. He laps it up like a dog in heat, aiming to drink your cum like water. He doesn't even pull away once your plethora of moans is over, his tongue still licking stripes down your folds.

It's only when you reach into his hair and pull him away from your sensitive hole that he realizes you came. A string of saliva goes with him as he detaches from you. He almost looks intoxicated as he gazes up at you, licking his lips and wiping his cum covered face with the of back his hand. Osamu rests his head on your thigh, looking up at you hazily.

It's near silent as you calm down from your high, the only sound being your uneven pants and his deep breaths.

Osamu sucks on your skin as he kisses up your torso. His grip on your hips is tight and he whispers words of praise as his lips attach to supple skin.

"Y're so fuckin' beautiful." He sighs into your neck. All he wants to do right now is give you backshots into oblivion, but he has a bit of self control.

You hum, "Keep talking like that and I might fall in love." You murmur sarcastically in response. He hopes you miss the way he tenses up.

"Can I fuck you?" He asks bluntly. His dick is almost painfully hard right now and he doesn't think jerking off will do much knowing that he just ate you out.

You smirk, "Be my guest, 'samu." You lick your lips and tilt your head at him. He exhales shakily before leaning forward to kiss you sloppily. You can still subtly taste yourself on his lips as his tongue re-explores your mouth.

Osamu's hands trail from your hips and towards your legs, tightly gripping the fat and muscle of your thighs. You sigh slowly, your eyelids fluttering closed as you anticipate the actions to come.

He positions himself above you, dark greyish-brown hair falling towards your face along with the small chain. His hands reach towards his boxers, pulling them down. You try not to watch as he pulls his thick cock out but it's honestly hard not to.

A few protruding veins catch your eye, pre cum glistens over his slightly red tip, and you can't help but feel like he might just have the prettiest dick you've ever seen.. For an identical twin, Osamu seems to be bigger than his blond counterpart.

He wastes no time lining himself up with your entrance, dragging his dick between your folds. You let out a shaky breath as he smears around your wetness, an airy laugh leaving his swollen lips.

You have absolutely no idea how long he's been wishing for this exact moment. How many times he dreamed of having you in positions much more explicit than this.

He doesn't think you ever will know. He'll save himself the embarrassment.

"You asked to fuck me, now you won't put it in?" Your hips jut forward with your words. Osamu smiles at the action. He hooks an arm around one of your legs and throws it over his shoulder, your calf resting on his muscular shoulder.

He locks eyes with you as he finally begins slipping himself inside you. Your gummy walls hug his shaft tightly. A chainlink of his grunts and your moans bounce off the walls.

"Why're you so tight.." Osamu mutters. It's mostly to himself, but you can't help but hum at his words.

He curses lowly before pushing the rest of his length into you with a strong thrust. You moan loudly, whether in pain or pleasure neither of you can tell.

A deep breath leaves his lips, "R'ya alright, sweetheart?" Osamu asks, his tone concerning.

"Fuck, y-yes." You breathe, eyelids fluttering shut in ecstasy. You're inadvertently clenching around him, attempting to get used to his length.

He's placing gentle kisses along your collarbone, awaiting your permission to move. You take a good twenty seconds, basking in the silence as he leaves small marks along your neck and chest.

"Please, 'samu." You mutter, and he hums into your chest as his hips begin moving and the quiet noise of skin against skin sounds in his room.

You're whimpering, and little do you know he hasn't even begun yet. His strokes are soft and slow and he's barely moving, but the way your gummy walls clench around him have him itching to fuck the soul out of you.

Shaky breaths leave his plump lips, and your gasps match his. "Fuck, baby, 've gotta move." He grunts as his pace quickens and his thrusts harden.

It doesn't take long for the skin to skin action to get louder, plap plap plaps bouncing off the walls as he thrusts his cock in and out of you.

"Y're fuckin' made for me, aren't ya?" Osamu moans, and your noises grow louder by the second.

You've had sex, made love, been fucked, and everything in-between. But the way Osamu thrusts inside of you with such precision and bottled need has you going fucking crazy.

Your bodies are intertwined so tightly that you can barely tell where you begin and he ends. It's hot and sticky and disgusting but it's so fucking good the way he doesn't hold back.

That tight knot in your abdomen is coming back and the gasps you let out grow louder as he fucks into you, raw and unadulterated.

"Fuuuck- 'samu 'm gonna come soon—" You stammer, your hips grinding helplessly into him. When he pulls out you buck forward and it's like he never even leaves.

(You aren't sure how long he's been rutting into you, but you're sure you'll be sore in places you didn't even know you could be sore by the time he's done.)

Osamu's lips latch onto yours and it contrasts the way he's fucking into you at first. His kiss is sloppy and open mouthed yet just as slow and calculated as always, but he's growing hungry as he reaches his own high.

He's desperate, more desperate for you than he's ever been for anything else in his entire life. It's pathetic, he thinks, but you taste so fucking good and the way you clench around his cock makes him think you want him to cum inside.

"Keep fuckin' grippin' me like that 'nd I'll have no choice but to cum inside, princess." Osamu groans into your lips, and you swear to god if he keeps hitting that extra raw and gummy spot inside you you'll have his fucking kids.

Your nails are digging into his shoulders, but he doesn't seem to care. "Never been fucked like this, have ya?" He smugly questions. You decide not to answer because no, you haven't been fucked like this but you don't think you'll ever want it any other way after you're done.

And then, in one swift motion, he pulls out and flips you on your stomach before pounding into from the back. With your face squished uncomfortably into the pillow and drool pooling from your swollen lips, his hand practically gripping your scalp as he pulls on your tussled hair, you don't think you'd have this night any other way.

Osamu's other calloused hand latches to your hip with a bruising grip, and suddenly his pace quickens and hardens and you're everywhere and nowhere all at once. He leans forward, a breath trailing up the deep arch of your back as he thrusts into you with no remorse. He's waited too long to hold back, and now that he's got you he doesn't think he's ready to let you go quite yet.

"Such a good fuckin' girl f'me," Osamu moans. If it weren't for him being so close to you, you might've missed it in such a fucked state.

A gasp leaves your lips, "All yours, 'samu!"

"Yeah, all mine," A vibration trails down your back, and you're hit with the realization that he is just as much yours as you are his in this painfully blissful moment when your moans sync up.

The room is stuffy and reeks of sex and neither of you would have it either way. "C'mon sweet girl, come with me?" Osamu asks deeply in your ear, and you bite your lip so hard you think you might taste metallic.

A loud moan, "Fuck- yes, Osamu, please!" You practically scream, pleas leaving your wet lips. He can't quite see the way your eyes roll into the back of your head as he continues grinding so deeply into you, but he knows you look so fucking good from this angle.

"Inside, f-fuck, do it inside Osamu!" You gasp, and he doesn't sense even a tinge of regret in your demeanor once the words leave your pretty mouth, so that's exactly what he does.

Just as a deep groan leaves his mouth and his hot seed plants itself inside you, you're seeing galaxies as your reach your peak. That tightly knitted rope snaps in half and you're cumming all over his cock at the same time he coats your insides with his own white juices.

He pulls out and nearly collapses on you. Thankfully he doesn't rest his full weight on you, shifting slightly to the side so he can, not only rest his head on the pillow next to yours, but lean in to give you a gentle kiss.

You kiss him back, half-lidded and tired eyes slowly falling closed as you rest next to one another. A strong arm pulls you into him, and you wrap a leg around his own. Neither of you can ignore the way a lewd mix of each other's cum thickly drips down your thigh.

"Quick power nap, then another round. How 'bout it, sweetheart?" He asks, voice raspy and deep in your ear.

"You just fucked the life out of me, 'samu. Give it a minute," Your throat is raw, but your words come out clearly. He chuckles softly, lightly muttering a 'yes ma'am' into your ear.

You'll have to remind him to thank his dear brother for keeping it tight.

#( 📝 aajxs — written works . )#osamu miya x reader #miya osamu #osamu miya #miya osamu x reader #osamu miya x you #miya osamu x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #female reader #x reader #hq x reader #hq x you #hq osamu #atsumu miya #haikyuu #the smut was lazy but i cant find it in me to care i had to write something 😒#hope i fed yall osamu girlies okay

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lizzy06 · 1 year ago

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Suna Rintaro x Reader Fic Recs!!(Tumblr/AO3/Wattpad)

Haikyuu! Fic Rec Masterlist

Inarizaki Fic Rec Masterlist

A Glimpse of Yellow✨✨✨💖💖 by mimi_cee (fake dating, fluff, acquaintance to friends to lovers) Despite being Atsumu's best friend, you barely knew his aloof and nonchalant teammate.This became more starnge when the twins thought you were dating suna and...he went along with it. [COMPLETED]

pov: he’s your rival✨✨✨💖💖 by @saintobio (enemies to lovers, street racer au, fluff, humor)when your most hated rival challenges you for another race to redeem his losing streak, but what he doesn’t tell you is that reaching the finish line isn’t his only goal. [COMPLETED] <This is connected this oikawa fic but could be read standalone>

bet on stones✨ by @animatedrapture (oneshot, fluff, humor) teasing sunarin for his short hair.[COMPLETED]

to be loved is to be known✨ by @kitasuno (oneshot, angst, happy ending)you're in love with suna. you think suna's in love with someone else. he's not.[COMPLETED]

soulmate au by @taeyamayang (soulmate au, oneshot, fluff, humor)[COMPLETED]

Dropped Your Hand while Dancing by @animatedrapture (oneshot, soulmate au, angst)we’re soulmates, he insists, like it’s a substitute for i love you.[COMPLETED]

Soulmate gone wrong by @tobiokuns (oneshot, angst, happy ending)you think it’s a happy ending once you’ve found your soulmate, but today you learn that it’s not always the case.[COMPLETED]

Take the Edge Off by hxneekyuu (hxnee) (friends to lovers, friends with benefits, smut)You struggle with your weight and body image, but Suna extensively and thoroughly undoes all the damage done by other guys or You haven't gotten laid in over a year, and your best friend takes it upon himself to fix that for you.[COMPLETED]

Three Months Too Late✨ by @yourstarvic (oneshot, angst) Suna realizes he wanted something three months too late.

Honeysuckle ✨by sauza (oneshot, smut)Every summer your older brother along with his friends comes into town to pay a visit to you while you attend college and like everytime you rekindle ur afffar. [COMPLETED][COMPLETED]

wastelands by @saintobio (heavy angst, unrequited love, post apocalypse au, 18+) after a viral pandemic wiped out half of the world’s population, a group of abandoned young adults embark on a life-threatening journey in hopes of finding a safe permanent home. unfortunately, for you and Rin, love is only a temporary option.[COMPLETED]

How He Shows You Affection by @jayeray-hq(oneshot, fluff)[COMPLETED]

it's a match! | suna rintarou by shittyshima(fluff, humor, online school)Of course, you were not thinking of Suna Rintarou, or how you had matched with him on Tinder just days ago, or how you had fangirled to your friends about how insanely hot and also unapproachable he was.You certainly weren’t thinking of the possibility of him sitting quietly on the other side of a screen, eyes shifting between your Tinder profile and your now pinned Zoom video.[COMPLETED]

of lovers and liars by @saintobio (play, tragedy, historical, angst)

[COMPLETED]

BEST PART by svnian (fluff, humor, online friends to lovers) in which suna texts a random number thinking is was his sister. ͏͏͏͏͏͏[COMPLETED]⠀ ͏͏͏͏͏͏⠀ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏⠀⠀ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏

I Don't Know What To Call This✨✨ by @yourstarvic Being an Inarizaki manger was a fun experience. Especially when you and a certain someone refuse to acknowledge their feelings for each other. So instead of accepting your feelings, you try to move on and be with someone. Will you move on? Or will you two acknowledge your feelings? And if so, how long will it take to be together?[COMPLETED]

Longing by niakasi(fluff, humor, smut)A childhood friend of the Miya twins, you reunite with them at university, where you meet their friend Suna.[COMPLETED]

Please... by lady_rice (smut, oneshot, fluff) How can you refuse pampering an exhausted Suna when he asks so nicely?[COMPLETED]

wondering ✨by @shisnhou (oneshot, angst, slight fluff) [COMPLETED]

In between the maybes by @selarina (oneshot, friends with benefits to lovers, fluff, angst, smut) The day after hooking up with your best friend is confusing, but not nearly as much as you make it out to be.[COMPLETED]

to love again by @sunasbabie (oneshot, angst, fluff)was suna rintaro’s love for you enough to make you stay?[COMPLETED]

la la lost you by @animatedrapture (oneshot, angst) Breaking up with suna[COMPLETED]

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piko-piko-chan · 1 year ago

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Okay, listen, LISTEN

(first of this is genuinely such a cool idea how did I not think about this sooner. My brain has let me down once again. I hope my writing is to your satisfaction)

BUT ALSO

I imagine he kind of knows it. There's this thought at the back of his head. It kind of always was there. Once he saw how his brother wasn't so passionate about volleyball as he was, he knew it.

He will end up alone

But he hated that thought and he pushed it to the back of his head as quickly as possible. They still had middle school and high school ahead of them. He would get his brother for at least a couple more years.

But the closer he gets to graduating the more it hits him. He finally got closer to his team, he had friends there. And then they were gone. Kita, Aran, all the third years.

He will end up alone

And when Osamu told him he would not continue pursuing volleyball he was furious. Not because of the sheer fact but because he knew it. He FUCKING KNEW IT. And yet it hurt so much. They never fought that much. Weeks without calls or simple messages. He was furious. Mostly at himself for being so scared of this reality.

But he pushes forward. He entered the world of professional volleyball. He had more people by his side. People who like him, chose this path of life and have no intention of straying from this path.

That when he met Sakusa, who, even if cold at first, shared his passion. He immediately he WANTED to set for him. To see him fly and score. He was in that feeling again. But the thought remained.

He will end up alone.

His relationship with Osamu was rebuilt little by little. They could finally be brothers again. But it didn't happened in a bang. They just got used to each other so much they couldn't really stay away for much longer. Atsumu kept stalking Osamu Business' social media to see if it was going okay for him. And Osamu kept thinking of stuff his brother would love to see on the menu. They just couldn't stay separated for long.

So when the tide fell, they started texting each other, seeing each other and being just brothers again.

Sakusa too, he became so much more than a regular teammate. He was always there for Atsumu and Atsumu tried to do the same. Like an invisible bond that just tied them together and wouldn't let them go. He didn't mind. He liked having someone by his side.

But.

There's always a but.

Sakusa was nervous, a rare sight for him. Atsumu tried to ignore it to the best of his ability. But it finally came.

"I signed a contract with a french volleyball club"

Silence.

No one dares to speak.

Atsumu buries his face in his hands, trying to process everything. He just wanted a heads up. Not false hope, not false happiness. He wanted to know beforehand how long it would last. He wanted to know so he wouldn't, again, foolishly think it's going to be forever.

But this time he wasn't a furious teenager. This time Sakusa wasn't leaving to set up some shop for whatever reason. He was going to play volleyball. Wasn't that what it was all about? Just playing?

He sighed.

It's hard for him but he isn't 18 anymore. He's an adult, and more importantly... He has been through it before. He knew it wasn't going to be the end. There are new people that you happen to stumble into in your life. New friendships. And a long-distance dating isn't an unfamiliar term for him. He knew that Sakusa waited not to torture him last minute but because he was scared. He was scared because he wanted this to last. Forever and more. And for that he truly knew this wasn't going to be the end. Volleyball connected them once and it would do it again. And again and again and again if they need to. And if fate, gods or volleyball refuse. He will do it himself

He will not end up alone

(this wasn't supposed to be this long lmaobdhs-)

currently thinking about atsumu who is both furious and hurt about the fact that the two most important people in his life thought it would be best to break the news to him last: osamu about quitting volleyball, and kiyoomi about signing with a french volleyball club and moving halfway across the world.

he almost laughs at the irony of the whole thing—his heart belonging to volleyball, and getting it broken because of volleyball.

#Sorry for any mistakes English is not my forst language and it's so late I'm too tired to triple check the text #This post was so fucking good for my rotting brain thank you #Aghhh now I want this to be a fic #Maybe I can write it one day #Maybe #miya atsumu #sakuatsu #sakusa kiyoomi #haikyuu #miya osamu #anime #miya twins

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webco-dawnn · 7 months ago

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Winter Hc!!

~ Here are just some fun hcs about what I think the Haikyuu boys would do with you during the winter. This post isn't categorized into teams unlike my other posts, but instead just a jumble of headcanons, so I hope you enjoy! (this includes Kenma Kozume, Osamu Miya, Tsukishima Kei, Bokuto Kotarou, Oikawa Tooru.)

꒰ ୨ ୧ ◞ 。Kenma⠀.ᐟ 🐈

╭ ; Kenma normally isn't one to go out. So, now with winter rolling in, it actually gives him an excuse not to go outside without the nagging voice of his friends telling him he could be using his valuable time practicing or that he needs some sun since he is pretty pale, afterall. Though he'd probably just stay in his room all day, buried under many blankets and wearing a bunch of layered clothing to warm him up.

When you come over, he doesn't really react. He greets you with a, "hey," flashing a gentle smile before focusing back on his game. You sit down next to him, and that's when he folds. He leans over, laying his head on your shoulder or your chest, eyes glued to the screen in front of him. If you comment on how close he's gotten he'll just say, "it's cold. You're warm. Use your brain." Though his tone held no actual bite of aggression in it.

He'll let you look over his shoulder to watch him play and eventually inch closer to you as the day goes on, until he's fully in your lap, your arms around his waist. There hasn't been a single word uttered ever since Kenma told you you were warm, but it was nice. It was a comfortable silence between the two of you that never got old. Well, silent except for the music and sound effects coming from the Nintendo held between Kenma's hands.

꒰ ୨ ୧ ◞ 。Osamu⠀.ᐟ 🍙

╭ ; You beg to come over to his house, claiming it's "too cold" in yours. Osamu tries to discourage you by telling you that his annoying twin, Atsumu, will be there as well since he has no plans today, or the fact that Osamu hasn't taken a shower yet or done his laundry. He was only trying to discourage you from coming over because.. well, Atsumu was home.. he didn't want his twin brother to see how different he was in front of his significant other. But after some more begging, you finally convince your beloved boyfriend to let you come over.

When you arrive, Osamu's already got hot chocolate made for you, handing it to you after you take your shoes off. Osamu makes some good hot chocolate, which is also another reason why you wanted to come over today. After you've finished the hot drink, he asks if you want to bake cookies with him. He has enough ingredients and a shit ton of free time, so why not?

In the process, you both get flour on your faces and in your hair, cookie dough all over your hands, and stains on both yours and Osamu's cheeks from the handful of chocolate chips you two ate.

꒰ ୨ ୧ ◞ 。Tsukishima⠀.ᐟ 🍋

╭ ; You wake up to a text from Tsukishima, telling you to be ready by 11 AM with no other information. It definitely confused you, but you're used to it since Tsukishima always texted you random things like this with no other information provided.

At 11, he picks you up and, surprise, he brought you two to an ice skating rink. You had been ranting about wanting to go for a while but not wanting to go alone, so Tsukishima took this as his cue to take you ice skating.

On the rink, Tsukishima is definitely a different person. Unlike you with your carefully calculated moves, perfect, careful, precise, Tsukishima is a wobbling mess. He has an iron grip on your bicep, not even daring to separate from you for a minute. He wasn't good at ice skating at all..

Anytime you'd laugh, he'd look up at you, saying, "It's not funny." but you couldn't really take him seriously with just how cute he looked with his red cheeks and nose.

꒰ ୨ ୧ ◞ 。Bokuto⠀.ᐟ 🦉

╭ ; The energetic owl shows up at your door at about noon, a box in his hand. You obviously let the boy in, watching as he took off his shoes before quickly walking over to the kitchen counter and setting the box down. Before you could even question anything, why he's here, (not that you're complaining, just curious) what the box was, you then read the front of the box and figured out that Bokuto was here with the intention of making a gingerbread house with you.

And so the two of you spent the rest of the afternoon making the gingerbread house. The contruction part of it ended about an hour ago, but you two were still working on the decorations of the house. It didn't look the best.. but it was fun. Talking to Bokuto while making the dessert was more than enough of a perfect day for you.

It was about 2 PM when you two finally finished, two hours after you guys had started. You look over to see Bokuto with icing all over his hands, and even some in his hair, along with small candies sticking to his fingers due to the icing. It made you chuckle. You wouldn't trade this for the world.

꒰ ୨ ୧ ◞ 。Oikawa⠀.ᐟ 🌀

╭ ; You weren't surprised when you opened your phone to 12 unread messages from Oikawa, begging you to come over to his house since he was just "So cold without you." You sigh, slipping your phone back into your pocket. You felt no real annoyance toward the boy, you could never feel annoyed with him. You get ready to go to his house before he starts whining even more.

When you get there, Oikawa's face immediately lights up with a wide smile, pulling you close and kissing you all over your face. Many, many kisses littered on your lips and cheeks. After he finished attacking you with his love, he allowed you to come inside. He told you how his parents weren't home before suggesting to rewatch a movie he loved, one you've watched with him about 10 times now. You agreed, but he suddenly changed his mind and suddenly started making tons of snacks.

after 20 minutes, you two finally settle down on the couch, Oikawa's head lying in your lap with a blanket over top of him and on top of your lap. An array of snacks lay on the table as the movie started.

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rintarousgirl · 2 years ago

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kiss me better, baby - an atsumu miya two-shot

PART ONE - MASTERLIST

synopsis -

you and atsumu had been living together happily after your marriage, but after conflicting work schedules and bottled-up feelings, the two of you break into a heated argument. now, it's up to the two of you to mend it, maybe with a kiss? | tags: lack of communication, angst, making up, hurt/comfort, toxic relationship.

a/n: for my more dedicated followers (and those of you who simply are curious) i now have a nsfw blog so this blog is now strictly sfw! ofc, i will still post some suggestive stuff but for nsfw requests and works go to @tarousbaby!

"you look horrible," osamu drawls from the foot of the couch, eyebrows raised. you scoff, shifting so you're upright as you wipe at your red and splotchy face.

"thanks," you mutter, "you're quite the charmer."

osamu rolls his eyes, moving around the couch to sit beside you. he picks up your legs, dropping them back down into his lap as you huff. "why're you here? have you come to apologize on your brother's behalf?" you grumble, resting your cheek against the couch.

it'd been a week, and you'd been so down that you'd called sick out of work. you'd changed maybe once in the past seven days, and you're sure you stink. your shirt has a stain on it, and your hairs a rats nest but you couldn't find it in you to care. there wasn't anybody for you to bother looking pretty for.

"'tsumu told me what happened," he explains, rubbing small circles into your ankle, "though I'd like to hear your side of the story too. i don't trust half of what he says when he's angry."

you frown. you knew atsumu had a bad habit of blowing things out of proportion or simply not caring about them enough that he undermines them. it makes you wonder what story he'd spun for his twin.

"what'd he say?" you ask first, your shoulders hunching a little.

osamu clicks his tongue. "ah, ah, your story first remember? after, i'll make you something to eat, 'kay?"

you nod, partially enticed by the idea of osamu's cooking. falling back into the plush of the couch (which still smelled like his cologne) you begin to share what had occured that night and the events that led up to it.

you watch as osamu connects pieces of your story to atsumu's, and where he finds gaps too. you see his thoughts clear as day on his face, and moments where he judges you and then atsumu as well. at least it was good to know he had a fairly neutral opinion.

you finish of your long rant with a simple question, "where is he now?"

"my place, doing pretty much the same thing you are. he skipped practice too, multiple times. hinata came over once, but atsumu's kind of shutting people out so he left fairly quickly."

something in you aches, and for a moment, there's nothing you want to do more than break down the door and hold him close and beg him to apologize so the two of you could get over this. atsumu's sweet stubborn heart wouldn't let anyone in but osamu, and hopefully you.

but he'd also treated your insecurities as if they were nothing. he pretty much ignored you throughout the day. and when you'd confronted him about it, he'd blown you off. you shouldn't feel bad that he's wallowing in his own self-pity without you, but you do.

osamu stands, reaching above his head to crack his back. it pops, and you follow him as he makes his way to the kitchen. "is he okay?" you find yourself asking to which osamu chuckles.

"he's fine, just pouting. he'll get over it eventually and worm his way back to you," he says whilst rummaging through your cabinets. he finds a few boxes of rice, before turning to your fridge, "you shouldn't do the same. you have a life, a job. he can miss a few practices; you can't miss work."

he's right, and you know it. in the pocket of your sweats, you phone buzzes. probably another text from your co-workers wishing you a swift recovery.

"am i not allowed to be upset over my stupid husband?" you shoot back, despite it all.

osamu hums, and takes a very long very noticeable look at your barren ring finger. "do you still consider him your husband even?"

after that, you can't even find the words to reply.

☆ - - -

going back to work wasn't as hard as you thought it would be. it was easy for you to slip back into a routine, it kept your mind of atsumu.

so, for the next week, you went on with your life. you ignored how empty your hand felt without the comforting pressure of your ring, and how much you missed atsumu's arms around your waist at night.

it was almost easy to forget he existed but then you could look around, see your wedding pictures framed on the walls, smell his cologne on your sheets, see his laundry baskets in the basement.

it made you sick. sick with how much you missed him, and sick with how much you never wanted to see him again.

you'd spent too many nights curled in on yourself in bed, his cologne on your pillow, spotted with your tears.

you wake up one night to a knock on your front door. sitting up blearily from the couch, you rub at your eyes, brushing your hair out of your face. the clock reads 11:37. your tv is still on, some animal documentary lighting up your living room in blue light.

confusion settles in you along with a thick level of wariness. getting up, you try to keep your footsteps light as you approach the door. hovering your hand over the lock, you peek through the peephole and feel your heart skip a beat.

atsumu stands on your porch, hair wet with the rain outside and skin pale and clammy. he looks borderline hypothermic, but his cheeks are still flushed and pink. you stumble back from the door and stand there for a second, jaw dropped.

you move quickly to pull the door open, startling him as he jumps back. he blinks at you, and then he's crushing you.

his arms wrap around you, holding you close and tight and sweet. his face buries in your shoulder, and he lets out a weak pathetic sob into the fabric of your shirt. your hands twitch at your sides, unsure of what to do as he clings onto you.

swallowing a thick lump in your throat, your hands slowly reach up to rub up and down his spine in a comforting manner.

atsumu smells strongly of alcohol, thick and sour. it's clear he was drinking before coming home, and you weren't quite sure what to do. atsumu had never really been a drinker in your years together.

"'tsumu," you mumble, pushing him back lightly. he stumbles, looking at you like a hurt puppy. "let's go to the kitchen...i prefer you sober."

he follows you to the kitchen, struggling not to trip over his own two feet. you prepare him a glass of water and a bowl of food to eat. he digs in happily, small water droplets slipping down his chin.

you watch in silence as he eats, taking in his condition. he looked haggard, frozen, and just overall horrible. and despite all that, he was still just as beautiful as he was the day you married him.

sighing, you walk behind him, and pat his shoulders. "i'm going to set up the couch for you tonight. i don't want you going back out in that storm," he hums, looking up at you with tearful eyes.

“mkay,” he says, slurring his words. he stares up at you with an emotion you can’t quite place. without thinking, you reach out and stroke his cheek, pushing away wet hair that stuck to his face.

there aren’t any words said, but he leans into your touch. even drunk atsumu knew to look for you for safety.

you watch as he finishes his food, before scrambling to his feet to stumble over to the couch. you help him, supporting half his weight as he plops down onto the couch with a drawn out groan.

“thank you,” he says, a little more sober than he’d previously been, taking your hand. “i love you…”

your bottom lip trembles and you lean down and press a kiss to his forehead. his eyes flutter before slipping shut as he falls into a deep sleep. “i love you too, ‘tsumu,” you choke, tears threatening to spill over.

you love him so much.

- - - ☆

you wake up before atsumu does, which you’re kind of relieved about. you were scared that if you slept in, he’d wake up and run back to osamu and you’d blow your chance at a healthy conversation with him.

when you walk into the living room, he’s tangled up in the blankets you’d given him. a small chuckle escapes your lips, and you grab some aspirin from the bathroom and place a glass of water on the coffee table for him.

turning to the kitchen, you begin breakfast. it was a saturday morning, which meant you fortunately didn’t have work. you remember reading somewhere that eggs were good for hangovers so you open your fridge and grab some from the cartridge.

atsumu wakes up not long after that, awoken by the smell of the sizzling eggs and bacon. he sits up with a groan, clutching his temple, and you quickly sprint over to close the curtains to block the sunlight.

“good morning, sleepyhead,” you find yourself saying, the tease slipping off your tongue as easy as water. you catch yourself a second after, and bite your lip.

atsumu looks at you like he’s lost, hurt, and in pain all at the same time which he probably is. you give him what you hope is a comforting smile. “c’mon let’s talk over breakfast.”

you extend a hand to help him up which he takes hesitantly, leaning into you subconsciously. he slides into a bar seat, and you quickly tend to the food for a few minutes before plating it.

besides the stove top, the kettle hissed, letting you know the tea you’d begun to brew was finished. you pour him a cup to have with his food.

he takes it gratefully, but his eyes don't stray from your figure as you make your own plate. "y/n," he calls softly, pushing back his plate. he stands up with a sigh as you turn from the counter, and walks around so you're face to face, only three feet apart.

"i'm sorry," he whispers, "not just for this...for everything."

you watch in silence, swallowing the thick lump of emotion in your throat. he'd said it drunk, but it'd been easy to tell yourself he didn't really mean it then, no matter how much you wanted him to. now that it happened, it almost didn't feel real.

"are you? i mean, like, really?" you end up croaking, eyes darting to the ring glinting on his finger. he brings up his palm and places it over his heart.

"dead serious," he says, before taking your hand. his face falls when he notices the lack of ring, and he brings it up to his face to cup his cheek. he presses a kiss to the inside of your hand.

"i was so stupid, baby. i should've listened to you. i was stressed and couldn't think of anything but myself and that was so foolish of me. when i married you, i promised myself you would always be my first priority and i broke that promise. i am so, truly sorry, y/n."

his eyes are a bit red, but he doesn't cry, and there's a dimple in his chin as he tries to hold back his emotions. your heart breaks and shatters into little glass pieces, spilling out of you and crashing onto the floor.

"oh," you say softly, the wind having been stolen from your lungs. "i...i forgive you, 'tsumu..."

you take a step forward, and his face lights up. you lift your hand from his cheek, and he opens his arms for a hug.

bringing your hand down, you land a harsh smack onto his shoulder, the sound filling the room.

he winces, an immediate hand raising to clasp over his shoulder. "i deserved that," he laughs lightly, and you find yourself smiling back despite it all.

you crash into his arms, burying your nose into the fabric of his shirt.

his arms rub up and down your spine, squeezing you tight. "i promise i'll never disregard you again. i'll listen to everything you say, understand every insecurity. you are apart of me, baby, i wouldn't want to ever hurt you again."

"i love you," you whimper wetly into his shirt, "i always have."

"i know," he replies, "i love you too."

you look up at him and smile. he smiles back, sweet and soft and genuine, and you think it's the most beautiful thing this world has ever seen.

taglist: (anyone who interacted last post)

@snail-squasher | @yamaguchikinnie | @radtragedyarcade

#rintarousgirl #haikyuu x reader #fluff #haikyuu x you #sfw #haikyuu #angst #haikyuu smau #atsumu miya #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu #atsumu x reader #hq atsumu #atsumu miya angst #miya atsumu x you #atsumu miya x reader #miya atsumu #miya osamu

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