#my lil bo angst/comfort fic

[soupbabe]

Fic authors self-rec! ✨ When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers

Aaa thank you 💕💕💕 It's fun reflecting on my past stuff omg omg

Doing What's Best (Magnolia Sinclair and Bo Sinclair

Listen I love exploring different aspects of their dynamic and I love putting my ocs out of their comfort zone! It was a fun thing to write and it makes me want to write for Maggie more <3

Temperamental (Chubby! Edward Nashton x Reader)

I think it's just a short and sweet lil fic and love me some Reader that doesn't take anyone's shit 🤷 Chubby! Eddie supremacy

I Like Your Bones (Lester Sinclair x Reader)

Two lil weirdos having a meet cute and Lester getting the crush he deserves >>> writing for Lester is so cute and I think I did his character good

Two Slow Dancers (Part 5! Jean-Pierre Polnareff x Reader)

This is my first angst fic and I'm still extremely proud of it. I love writing jjba fics where Reader isn't a stand user and dare I say it's perfect for angst. Every time. Because they never get to know the truth behind the tragedies that fall onto their loved ones.

Trans Joy with Slashers Part 1

I know this isn't a fic but I don't care I love these sm. It was so comforting writing it and I love writing trans stuff without it revolving around dysphoria or transphobia <3

[the-slasher-madame]

Bo Sinclair Angst//Comfort

Well gang, this might be a bit of a doozy. I’m not the only one, and it ain’t all that big a deal, but there’s definitely stuff that people have said/done that sticks with me and I believe is a little traumatizing. One of those memories has been bouncing in my head, so I thought I’d write what I wish could’ve happened, or just a way I’d like to be comforted. I still have troubles like, I guess properly giving credit to this kind of stuff. Like I call it sugarcoating, I just tend to underexaggerate stuff to protect people’s feelings or keep them out of trouble (them being my parents) and I do not support comparing trauma but I know this stuff isn’t as up there as what other people have experienced. Either way, it hurt, and I’m still trying to think through different thoughts and feelings I have. So there’s my piece of vulnerability for the day, and this is a way I’m trying to learn to use to help work through some of this <3

TW/Notes: heavy content, Bo being aggressive and scary, reader remembering stuff from their past, angst then comfort, fluffy ending, kind of a panic response/anxiety attack sort of deal, Bo yells at reader, gender neutral reader, reader likes stuffed animals, canon typical violence, as always let me know if I missed something

Also while this is based on a memory, it wasn’t quite as intense as this story

// Shit shit shit shit. The victims that ran through Ambrose today had been a lot to handle. Almost too much, but only almost. They had started by being rude to Lester, commenting on his appearance, his job, and his truck decorations. He’d given Bo a look when dropping off the tourists that had told your lover everything he needed to know. Despite his personal feelings, he tried to pour on the charm, but the group was just as snobbish to him as they were to his brother. Bo managed to get some of them to head towards the wax museum, taking care of the one that remained at the stations before radioing towards Vincent. All hell broke loose from there, and this group of asshats put up a fight. You had been in Ambrose long enough to form an attachment to the brothers, particularly Bo, and once the carnage started he always made sure you were safe in the house while he took care of the dirty work. You’d paced while the twins took care of their latest victims, but Bo absolutely hated whenever they got a group that tried to fight back. Sure, he loved a good struggle, but this group had gotten a couple of scratches and kicks in which only pissed him off beyond belief. You loved him, but you knew exactly how short his temper was. He’d yelled at you before, lashed at you with his rage when he couldn’t hold it anymore, but he tried his best to spare you from all that. He remembered how it felt getting yelled at as a child over nothing, and he knew you were a sensitive individual. He actually loved that about you, how emotional you were and how honest you were about it. But...it wasn’t always best when it came to his volatile anger. 

You were sitting at the kitchen table, the slightly yellowed lights above you keeping you company with their constant hum as you sipped at your water. Night had fallen maybe an hour ago, maybe two: long enough that you were beginning to worry more than usual. You almost dropped your mug when the front screen door banged open and slammed shut, all the while with your lover letting out curse after curse. You set your mug down carefully on the table, starting to shake with the anxiety that sprung from Bo’s anger. You never delt with other people’s anger very well, especially when it came to those that were intimidating in their rage. Your head was lowered, staring at the mug grasped between your trembling hands. Bo stormed through the kitchen, heading straight to the fridge and it made you jump again. You hoped he hadn’t noticed, especially as your anxiety grew. Oh, he had unfortunately noticed. Bo was already in a foul mode, and he didn’t want to have to worry after you (and he felt guilty that you looked so shaken, knowing he’d done that to you). 

“The fuck you lookin like that fer? I just walked through my own goddamn kitchen,” he hissed at you from his place next to the fridge, a beer already retrieved and held to his lips. You looked up at him, quickly moving your eyes back to your hands that had retreated into your lap. He didn’t like this, feeling like you were ignoring him and his rage was reaching a breaking point. Bo’s voice started barking out to you, getting louder and more aggressive as he went on, “fuck off, it’s not like you do a goddamned thing around here.  YOU CAN’T EVEN FUCKING LOOK AT ME HUH? BRAT, I’LL FUCKIN SHOW YA-” He pushed away from the counter, his bottle left on the countertop. Whatever courage you had fled when you saw him move, and you were thrown back to a memory of your father, one you had been thinking about for the last few days. He never beat you per say, but you had been spanked a fair amount as a child and had more than a fair share of arguments and fights from your parents. It left a lot for you to work through, but you were trying. You were trying for Bo, just as you knew he tried to be more patient for you. 

All that was gone from your mind as adrenaline pulsed through you, feeling more like pure fear racing through your arteries. Coherent and reasonable thought left you, sending you into fight-or-flight mode. Your body chose flight, and you quickly scooted out of your chair to shove it in Bo’s path before darting out of the room. You were starting up the stairs while he moved the chair aside, swearing at you. You knew, you knew that he wouldn’t hurt you, but all you could feel was fear. Your mind was sticky with it, heightening your senses while dulling your thoughts. He was moving after you, fast, his mind still on the idea of a chase. He didn’t even know what he was chasing you for, you had run and he had followed on instincts left over from the previous activities of the night. You were jumping off the top step towards the hallway while Bo was halfway up, sweating and trying to gain on you. Your body somehow found a way to push forth another burst of speed, racing forward and lunging into the guestroom and shoving it closed. You locked the door and ran to hide under the desk in the room, a place you had taken to using as a studio for your own crafts. You never really knew why, but you tended to like hiding under desks and the likes when you were distressed (though it was most definitely an unconscious decision at the moment). 

You had your hands over your ears (another default position of yours) and were shaking worse now than you had before. Bo slammed in the door, hard, cursing more as he tried to shake the handle open. Each word, each shake of the door made you sink in on yourself, and your heart was beating like you were in a horror movie. The banging stopped as Bo’s footsteps stomped off, and you took a few deep breathes that almost started to take the fog out of your mind; however, Bo was starting to bang back towards the room, and you swear your heart stopped when you heard the lock click. Fuck how could you forget he had a key to every room in his room? You shrieked when the door opened, and tried to shove yourself harder under the desk. Bo stopped for a moment, still seething, but that’s when he started to notice exactly how bad you were freaking out. He turned towards you and your desk, and you let out that horrible shriek again. It was pure pain, animalistic fear. Bo hadn’t heard that sound from you since you first came to Ambrose, and it stopped his rage in its tracks. He ducked to get a glimpse at you under the desk, and you started sobbing loudly. You’d had tears falling down your face since you had made it under the desk, and the whimpering had started as soon as the first scream had died on your lips. You saw him peering under the desk and you were sobbing, really sobbing. You tried to quiet down, whimpering out apologies to him about the noise and whatever had happened, but what really hurt him was hearing you say, “please don’t hurt me, I’m so sorry.” 

You were still trying to back yourself further into the wall, and Bo started to worry you’d end up making a hole in the drywall from how hard you were moving into it. With his anger evaporated and replaced with guilt, Bo backed away slowly and left the room to gather some supplies to try and calm you down. He hurried back down the stairs to grab a water bottle, then went back up to stop by your shared bedroom. He knew how much you loved your stuffies, how comforting they were to you, and grabbed two of you favorites: one that you had said was the perfect cuddle shape before, and one that held sentimental value to you. You were almost hyperventilating when he returned to the room, and your sobs picked up again as he moved past the desk. He sat about a [meter/yard] away from you on the floor, settling in to try and calm you down before you passed out. Bo had seen you have an anxiety attack before and thus had an idea of what to do, and he couldn’t even begin to think about exactly how guilty he felt that he had caused one. Bo loved you and trusted you, he’d accepted you as a Sinclair and sworn to protect you like one. His heart ached hearing your small wails and soft screams.

He sat there a few minutes, letting you adjust to his presence in the room. When your cries had slowed somewhat, he slowly slide your cuddly stuffie towards you, figuring you would need something to hold on to and ground yourself with. He was right, and you gripped the thing like a lifeline. He stayed where he was, watching your breathing slow ever so slightly. He started inching his way closer when he determined that your breathing was steadier and that you were now just crying instead of those gut-wrenching wails of fear. Your eyes locked on him, but you were regaining some sense of control over your own mind again and thus let him approach. However, you did not move to greet him, you were still wary of what might come next, your anxious side telling you to still be alert. Bo finally reached the desk, still sitting with you on the ground. He stayed still for a few minutes, once again letting you get used to his company. He felt relieved when your muscles relaxed, and slowly slid under the desk with you. 

“Hey doll,” his voice let out softly, “could we maybe move out from under here? Can’t be comfortable sittin all cramped up like that.” You thought a second before nodding, and he started to move back out. You followed him, reappearing from your safe spot under the desk. The two of y’all were still sitting close together has Bo whispered to you once again: “Come ‘er darlin, it’s ok. Just let me hold you alrigh?” You nodded again and almost launched yourself into him, curling up in his lap. You had your one stuffie under your arm, and he placed the last one between the both of y’all’s chests before encircling you with his arms. Time passed like that, him crooning to you all the while. 

Eventually you were back in control of yourself completely, and you too started to feel a bit guilty. You hated when you reacted badly to anything, when you got pulled in to a dark pit and felt like you were overreacting when you came out of it. You looked up to his eyes and started with, “I’m sorry Bo, I shouldn’t’ve-” “Hush darlin, it’s alrigh, I shouldn’t a run after ya like that. Shouldn’t a yelled at ya either,” he interjected, knowing exactly where you were heading with this. “But I-” “Nope, you jus reacted, an tha’s ok. I promise I’ll do better, yea? Ain’t gonna scare ya like that again, I promise,” he said, trying to reassure you that this was not something you needed to feel bad for, and that he would fix it. He would not let this happen again, he cared too much for you. Truth be told, he worried about you most of the time. He knew some of the things you had struggled with in the past, and he was terrified by the thought of losing you to them.

You leaned back into his chest, too tired to keep going with this train of conversation. Bo placed his arms around you so that he could carry you to bed. He sat you down, made you take a drink, and tucked you in carefully. He tugged off his boots and hat, climbing in to bed to hold you close to his chest (he was fond of being the big spoon, he felt like he had a living stuffed animal to hold and take care of). You fell asleep fast, drained from the wave of adrenaline and the emotional turmoil that had come with it. He placed kisses along your neck and behind your ear sporadically, almost as if he was trying to remind himself you were here. Vincent peeked his head in the door after you had fallen asleep, looking directly at his twin. Bo raised his hand to fingerspell ‘later,’ dropping it back to hold you around your waist. You turned over to nuzzle into his chest, stuffies still held tight in your arms. Vincent gave one last look before moving on to whatever he needed to do, and Bo eventually fell asleep looking at your face, swearing to show you how much he treasured you. 

- Alrighty finite. This was more intense than the memory I have I think, I only remember getting in an argument with my dad and he chased after me to spank me. Not great, but could be a helluva lot worse. I want Bo Sinclair so bad, I just want him to sit and comfort me and hand me stuffies. Anyways, I hope y’all enjoy my late night angst/comfort lol

[iwaizumeanie]

hello, this is my first full length fic, i hope that u like it, i definitely got a lil carried away <3 it kinda has it all, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, smut. it’s a lil whirlwind. pls let me know any feedback! and remember to read the warnings!!!!

pairing: bokuto x fem!reader 18+ MINORS DNI.

wc: 9.3k

warnings: DESCRIPTION OF ATTEMPTED ASSAULT (not by bo), brief noncon (no penetration), mentions of alcohol, reader experiences trauma/flashbacks, reader wears makeup/skirts/mentions of hair (long enough to run hands through), mentions of greek deities (religion if you squint? it’s very brief), atsumu is kind of a dick throughout the story lol, strangers to friends to lovers, eventual smut (slowburn), dacryphilia, spit, otherwise very soft and fluffy sex, petnames (baby, love), oral (f receiving), creampie

When you’d stepped into the alley behind the bar you were at, all that you wanted was a chance to catch your breath - though right now you’re not sure you’re even breathing at all. Fat globs of tears spilled down your cheeks, leaving streaks in your makeup and soaking the neckline of your shirt. You couldn’t be bothered by the way the cotton was sticking to your skin now, all senses zeroed in on the fear shooting itself through your veins. Shaking fingers reached for the crumbling brick walls beside you, feet scrambling to stay planted firmly to the ground, your eyes were darting back and forth, frantically searching for somebody - anybody, who could help you.

The hand that held your arms behind your back was too large, too strong to slip through. The breath fanning down your neck was hot, leaving a sickening trail of goosebumps across your skin. “If ya don’t struggle, I won’t have to hurt ya, sweetheart.” His words sat sour in your stomach as your hope of a way out waned, the reality of your situation began to settle in its place. He ripped the hem of your shirt, pulling against it harshly, causing the material to tear nearly all the way up as he laughed in your ear.

His free hand hooked itself under the waistband of your skirt, threatening to pull and finalise your fate when a sound of welfare rang itself through the damp alleyway. A heavy door, swinging open, echoing with a glimmering hope of a saviour. A scream ripped from your throat, pleading for help and scaring your assailant nearly to death as he disconnected himself from you, stumbling backwards and barely catching himself before taking off running. Your knees hit the wet pavement, arms coming to your chest to cover yourself up as footsteps, heavy and fast, approached you.

Large, wandering hands hovered over you, unsure of where to land, and you were sure this stranger was speaking to you, though you couldn’t hear a word over your own sobs and gasps for air. Finally, a gentle touch to your shoulder jolted you out of your shock, and your vision snapped to his - soft golden eyes locked onto yours, flowing with concern and fear.

“Are you okay? What’s going on? Are you hurt anywhere?”

Your voice felt trapped in your throat, hands pulling tighter at the shreds of your shirt. His gaze never left yours, waiting for a response, but words were far from you, lost between hiccups and sobs. You fell forward into his chest, staining his shirt with mascara and tears, but he wrapped his arms around you regardless, mumbling it’s okay, and you’re going to be fine. He easily raised you back to your feet, pulling you closer into his side, the vice grip of his arm around your shoulder never leaving. He lead you in through the door he came from, sitting you on a tall stool and ordering you to stay and wait.

He disappeared for what seemed like only a moment, re-emerging from the curtain he’d ducked behind with a sweatshirt and a glass of water, carefully offering them both to you. You pulled the jumper over yourself quickly, relishing in the comfort of the warmth and sipped at the water, keeping your gaze downcast to the floor and away from the strangers watchful eyes. He cleared his throat, catching your attention just enough to look up and study his appearance. Salt and pepper hair slicked into spikes above his head, golden eyes boring into you, and the smallest bit of red blushing the tip of his nose. He smiled at you, a small thing, but it was warm.

“You good? Wanna tell me what happened?”

You shook your head, you didn’t feel good. You felt filthy, dejected, embarrassed; but before you could express any of this somebody else emerged from the curtain. He was drying his hands on a dish towel, not paying attention to you as he approached your mystery saviour.

“Bokuto, d’ya take another sweater from the display case? I keep tellin’ ya, if ya want something I can get it for ya, just gotta-” He stopped and stared at you. “-tell ‘Samu. Who’s this?”

Bokuto stared between the two of you for a moment, opened and closed his mouth twice and then pursed his lips. His finger was pointed at you and his shoulders fell slightly.

“I don’t know.”

“Ya don’t know?”

“I don’t.”

The blond dropped the dish rag, made his way to you in a few long strides, and narrowed his eyes when you winced as he got closer.

“Don't crowd the girl! I went out back for a sec and she was in… A situation. I’m taking care of it.”

He huffed, turning back around. “Jus’ don’t tell ‘Samu ya snuck somebody in here after hours, I’ll never hear the end of it.” He pushed his way back through the curtain, muttering something about how he wasn't even supposed to be here before he disappeared, calling over his shoulder to 'make it quick'.

Bokuto turned to you now, "I'm sorry about him. Do you want to go to the police? Or, fire department- I don’t, I don’t know- how this works.”

If your heart wasn't hammering against your ribs, you might have laughed at the way he was stuttering through his sentence, unsure of how to progress a heroic act; even if it was completely by accident. But instead, all you could offer him was a slight shake of your head, averting eye contact and sinking into yourself more.

“At least let me take you home.”

The little embroidered onigiri stared at you from its place on the right side of the sweater hanging off of the chair in your bedroom. It had stayed in the same place for the three weeks since Bokuto had given it to you, refusing to take it back when he escorted you home after the night of your less-than-exciting encounter.

Your wrists still brandished dark purple bruises in the shape of ugly fingerprints, a sickening reminder every time you caught a glimpse of them. You couldn't decide still if the physical marks were worse than the toll it took on your mental health- waking up in a cold sweat, panting every night with the feeling of large hands pinning you down ghosting over your skin in a disgusting remembrance. You wished you could turn it all off- the memories, the way you glanced over your shoulder every moment you were out alone, and most importantly, the sound of his voice ringing through your head.

You reached for the sweater, rolling it into a ball and shoving it into your bag quickly. If there was one reminder you could get rid of, it was this one. A quick glance in the mirror had you grimacing at your own reflection. The circles under your eyes were heavy and dark, and your hair was matted and stuck in about a hundred directions, but you couldn't be bothered to care. You needed this gone, and you needed to do it now.

"So, yer sayin' ya stole this from me?" The man in front of you held the sweater in his fist with a puzzled look on his face.

"No, I'm- You were there. Your friend gave it to me, like three weeks ago. He found me outside, brought me in, y'know?"

He continued staring, no sign of the memory shooting back to him in the slightest. You ran a frustrated hand down your face, groaning inwardly.

"I don't remember his name, he was like this tall," your held your hand above your head in reference. "He has like, crazy gold eyes. Hair like this!" You flailed your hands now above yourself, trying your best to resemble spikes. It was only when he smirked at you that you realised how ridiculous you must look, waltzing into a restaurant with merchandise that you didn't buy, trying to return it with the saddest attempt at describing who you thought was this guys friend.

"I think I understand. My brother snuck in here with his team and they brought’chya along for the ride, yeah?"

Brother? It was him!

"Your- what? It was you! I literally saw you."

He took off his ball cap, revealing hair that definitely was not the blond shade that you remembered.

"'M Osamu. I have a twin, and it sounds like you met him and his friend Bokuto."

You swear a lightbulb popped up over your head as you nodded, and he laughed at you, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

"Listen, 'M glad ya thought it was the right move to bring this back t'me," he shoved the sweater back in your direction. "But I've got plenty here, keep it."

You shook your head, holding your hands in front of yourself, ready to decline again before you were cut off, the sound of the bell jingling above the door pulling Osamu's attention away from you.

"Oi! 'Samu, I hope yer cookin' up somethin' good today ‘cause we are starved."

Your spine tingled at the voice behind you, urging you to curl into yourself and hide away somewhere for fear that you were about to encounter too many reminders. Willing yourself to stay in place, not turn around, you squeezed your eyes shut and braced for the worst.

"Hey! Hey, hey, I know you!"

Shit. You turned slowly, coming face to face with your saving grace once more. His smile beamed brighter than you thought the sun ever could, his arms held out as if to welcome a hug. The way he radiated pure warmth in seeing you was lost to your mind, your thoughts scrambling to rationalize his feelings of joy rather than sickness and the uncomfortable shiver that ran down your own spine. He approached you slowly, grin never waning, and placed a hand on your shoulder like an old friend would.

"What are you doing back here?"

"She came back to return my merchandise that ya stole from me, Bokuto!"

There it was, the drop of his smile and the grimace of the realisation that he'd been caught. Atsumu threw his hands into the air with a groan, readying himself to defend against his twins lecture of breaking into the restaurant after he'd been drinking. Bokuto scrunched his nose at you, his smile snaking its way back onto his face before ushering you out the front door without a chance to protest.

"How are you doing?" His tone was soft, but it raised bile in the back of your throat.

"I didn't think you'd be here. I was just going." You turned on your heel to leave, fire burning under your cheeks and your brain screaming at you to go, go, go, but his hand caught your wrist, pulling you back. Your gaze fell to where he held onto you, and he quickly pulled back, muttering an apology under his breath. You sighed, an unfamiliar feeling of guilt blooming in your chest as you watched his features pull together in a scowl toward the ground.

"I'm- I’m doing fine. Thank you, again."

He lit up, if only for a second. "Y’know, that whole night, I don't think I asked you for your name."

You narrowed your eyes at him for a moment, racking your brain for any reason to snub him, not give him your name, just turn and walk away like you wanted to. But as you glared at him, expectant gaze never leaving his face, some small part of your brain wanted to let him shimmy his way in, wanted to answer his questions, wanted to give him a reason to shoot you that million-wat smile every time you spoke.

With a hesitant sigh, and a shaking hand, you reached out to him and gave him your name. You swear you could see stars shooting through his gold irises when his hand gripped yours.

Bokuto became something of a constant in your life. He was constantly checking in on you - making sure you'd had enough to eat, gotten proper sleep, and he was never shy to call and let you know that he had leftovers, and they had your name written all over them.

But it was always over the phone. He was always sure to extend an invite, whether it was to lunch, or drinks after practice with his team, (the team he was always gushing about, insisting that you had to meet them one of these days), or just a walk through his favourite garden to try and coax you out of the cave you called an apartment. You were always polite in declining his offer, something inside you screaming to just keep that barrier between the two of you. You could hear the disappointment laced in his tone, but he never expressed it in words, quite the gentleman in respecting your boundaries. That wasn't to say you didn't want to hangout with him, you imagined it often, his boisterous laugh, the crinkle of his eyes, his hand resting on your shoulder like it belonged there. Your own reservations kept those thoughts at bay though, and you were content in that. At least, you told yourself you were.

It was Saturday afternoon, you ran through your afternoon routine; groceries, laundry, and a latte on the way home as a reward for leaving the house. It was Saturday afternoon when your blood ran cold as a hand grabbed at your wrist, your body lurching back and recoiling at the touch. Your coffee hit the ground and pooled at your feet, the street vendor who'd grabbed your arm gawked at you as he apologised for the fright. Your pupils were blown wide and your ears rang as you muttered through a rushed apology, leaving the mess and all but sprinting down the street.

You slammed your front door shut, slinking down to the floor as your legs trembled. Your breathing was staggered and a lump was forming in your throat, threatening a sob to wrack through you. As you focused on steadying your breathing, your phone rang from your bag, causing your heart to nearly jump out of your throat. You answered it without a second thought, seeking any sort of distraction.

"Hey! Hey, are you okay?"

It was Bokuto.

"Yes. Hi, yes, I'm okay."

You heard shuffling on the other end, a door closing, people talking in the background.

"I was just calling to see if you're busy, I know you probably are but I'm headed out to lunch and I wanted-"

"Yes, I'll come."

He was silent for a beat, waiting for you to spring a just kidding!

"Really?" He staggered through his words, "I can come pick you up if you want me to."

"Yeah," you let out a breath you weren't aware you'd been holding. "That would be nice."

He was at your door sooner than you thought he'd be, you still hadn't picked yourself off the floor when the doorbell rang. You cracked the door and offered him your best attempt at a smile, but it seemed there was no fooling him when it came to. He gently pushed himself past the doorframe and examined you with narrowed eyes, leaning in close enough you could feel his breath on your face.

"Why are you crying?"

You wiped underneath your eyes, averting eye contact and collecting your bag. "I'm not. Let's go, I'm starving."

You reached for the doorknob but he was quicker than you, his handing landing on top of yours and clicking the door shut.

"You're lying. What's wrong?"

"Bokuto, really, I'm fine. I just worked myself up while I was out, it's nothing."

He stuck his nose up, turning you around by the shoulders and pushing you into the kitchen. You protested but he simply tsk'd at you, sitting you down at the dining table. He began rummaging through your cabinets and fridge, pulling out a slew of ingredients before beginning his search for pots and pans. You questioned him and he turned to you, leaning against the kitchen counter.

"I'm not gonna make you go back out if you had a bad day. I can cook you something here."

He continued his search, carding through the grocery bags he’d picked up from the front door and promising something about paying you back, but all you could focus on was the heat blooming in your chest. You stared at him through half lidded eyes as he dropped a pad of butter in a frying pan, humming to himself. He glanced at you from over his shoulder, producing a soft smile before returning to his task at hand.

You said his name before you could process your own thoughts, and he turned to fully look at you, cocking his head to the side.

“Why are you doing this?”

He furrowed his brow, confusion taking over his features. “Doing what?”

You felt stupid. It was a thought you didn’t want to form in words, and now the way he was staring at you waiting for your explanation made you feel about 2 feet tall under his gaze. Your fingers tangled together in your lap, your eyes dropping to the floor, and you sucked in a harsh breath before you continued.

“I’m a stranger. You don’t have to dote on me just because-”

“I’m not doting.” His tone was firm, and he stepped away from the stove, clicking off the burner. “You seem like you need a friend, and I’ll be that to you.”

Your features twisted in a sickly sense of rage, “So it’s pity?”

He rolled his eyes at you, taking a seat in the chair opposite of you, laying his hands flat against the table. “It’s not pity, you dummy.” He smiled. “When I met you that night, I just felt like I wanted to… I dunno, be there for you. With you, I guess.”

Your gaze softened towards him, words lost as you tried to think of a proper response, but all you could muster was a soft nod and a quiet thank you. He reached out and squeezed your hand, smiling before retreating back to the kitchen without another word.

“Bo, I just don’t think it’s a great idea.”

You stared at him from the opposite end of the couch, his head was hung over the armrest and his arms were laid across his chest, defeated by the back and forth he’d just been engaging in with you. He picked his head up to narrow his eyes at you, cheeks flushed pink from the blood rushing to his face. He clambered to sit up, tucking his feet underneath himself in a crisscross position.

“They all wanna meet you, I even reserved a seat for you! It’s just one game, c’mon.” He shot you a puppy dog gaze that nearly melted your heart- Nearly. You shook your head at him, crossing your arms over your chest. A couple months had passed, and Bokuto was always sat on your couch on Friday nights to watch movies with you, your newest routine you’d fallen into. He leaned forward and pried your arms away from your chest, engulfing your hands in his larger ones. His lip jutted out in a dramatic pout, and he batted his lashes at you. You bit back a smile and stuck to your resolve, turning your head away.

“Fine,” he dropped your hands, “if you wanna break my heart so bad, then I guess it’s just fine. I just thought as my best friend you’d wanna see me play.” He stuck his nose up, but peeked open his eye to stare at you. You rolled your eyes with an exasperated sigh, clenching your jaw.

“One game.”

He moved so fast you thought he’d fall off the couch, pulling you flush against his chest in a bone crushing embrace. He laughed, loud in your ear, just like all the times you’d imagined so many months ago and you let a soft chuckle escape as well.

“One! That’s it.”

He pulled back to smile at you, holding onto your shoulders. “Just one.”

Saturday morning rolled around too soon, you cracked your eyes open at the sound of your alarm, groaning as you pulled the blanket over your head. You grimaced as the bright screen of your phone burned your eyes, checking the handful of texts Bokuto had sent you while you were sleeping.

I’m so excited!!!! :D

You’re gonna love the guys. But not as much as you love me. ;D

Your heart skipped a beat when you read that one.

They’re gonna love you!

You’re in seat 32, in row A. It’s the front row, so you can watch me up close!!!!!!

Stepping into the arena was overwhelming, the bustling crowds around you causing you to want to shrink into yourself, to turn around and walk out, make up an excuse later as to why you weren’t there. You glanced around, a little lost, as you read the umpteen signs around you. Where did he say to go? You rummaged through your bag, searching for your phone to check your texts again when you heard your name being called. You shot your head up and caught the eyes of Osamu, waving his hand above his head and beckoning you toward him.

He greeted you with a smile, bragging about his food stand, and how it was the real reason people came to these games. You made polite conversation, smiling when it felt right, and humming affirmations as he carried the conversation mostly by himself.

“It’s good ta see ya here, Bokuto was real excited when he told everyone you’d be comin’,” he checked the time on his watch. “You should probably head in, they’re ‘bout to start.” He placed a hand on your shoulder and offered a warm smile. “I’ll see ya later, yeah? Take care of yerself. Oh, and make sure t’cheer real loud when ‘Tsumu is up to serve.”

You found your way to the gym after what felt like ages, muttering apologies to strangers whose eyes you wouldn’t dare look into as you searched for your seat. Once you finally found it, your heart swelled and swooned, noting the two seats on either side of you were reserved as well, notes on them reading ‘So you don’t have to worry about anybody in your space. Cheer for me! -Bo’

You smoothed your skirt before taking your seat, crossing your legs and tucking your bag beneath the chair, straining your eyes to take in all the commotion on the court. The two teams were still warming up, the sounds of balls smacking against the wood of the court startling you every time it rang off the walls.

You picked Bokuto out of the crowd on the court easily, he was high fiving a red haired teammate when you first saw him. His smile was vibrant as ever, you thought it had to be warming the entire gymnasium. And as if he could feel your eyes on him, he snapped his head in your direction, waving like a madman the moment he saw you. The redhead strained his eyes, smiling wide as he shifted his gaze between you and Bokuto a few times before waving himself. You offered a small wave back, shooting Bokuto a thumbs up that he reciprocated immediately before forming his hands in the shape of a heart quickly. Your cheeks heated up, flustering you enough that you had to look away. The blow of a whistle brought your attention back to the players; the start of the game.

Your heart soared watching Bokuto in his domain, smacking the ball down with such force every time you swore your own fingers would break off if you tried the same thing. Every time that Atsumu was up to serve, the gymnasium fell silent save for the sound of Osamu somewhere screaming at the top of his lungs. The frustration on Atsumu’s face made you laugh each time, a pretty sound that rang through Bokuto’s ears whenever he heard it. He swore he was playing better with you there watching him, his focus was never better. And he swore he could’ve died on the spot when he spiked the winning point, turning to face you as soon as his feet hit the ground, met with the sight of you jumping from your seat and cheering with a smile he’d never seen from you. It stretched across your entire face until it met your eyes, crinkling at the corners and your hands were clasped together under your chin. If the Gods had struck him down right in that moment, he would’ve died a happy man.

He ran to you, ignoring his team as they dogpiled together to celebrate their victory, only wanting to experience the rush of his win with you. He engulfed you in his arms, spinning you in a large circle and your legs kicked about as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He was damp with sweat, and his hair was stuck to his forehead in some spots, but he looked radiant as ever when he pulled back as he set you down.

“Bo, you’re incredible!”

“Did’ja have fun? Did I look cool?”

You laughed at him, a full laugh that had your shoulders shaking as you nodded your head. There was a gleam in your eyes that replaced the far off gaze they usually held, a glint of pure joy that Bokuto wanted to see every time that he was with you from that moment forward. His moment of bliss was cut short, attention pulled back as the redhead called out his name, leaping bounds across the court with Atsumu hot on his trail. You shrunk behind Bokuto’s shoulder, but offered a polite smile as the men approached.

“Jeez, Bokuto, did you forget your manners?” He beamed at you, ignoring the comeback from Bokuto. “I’m Hinata Shoyo! It’s so great to finally meet you!”

“Sho, don’t crowd the girl,” Atsumu mocked, shooting a glare at Bokuto before turning to you, greeting you with a smirk and a confident hello.

“Hi, Atsumu. Hinata, it’s nice to meet you.” Your voice was quieter than it had been moments ago when you’d been alone with Bokuto, in your own little bubble away from the crowds around you.

Bokuto threw an arm around your shoulder, tucking you into his side and placing his other hand on his hip. “These are the guys I was telling you about, and that,” he pointed to a curly haired man approaching. “That’s Sakusa.”

“Don’t ya pay any mind t’OmiOmi, he’s got no manners.” Atsumu stuck his tongue out at Sakusa, earning a seething glare before Sakusa turned his attention back to you, nodding curtly. You nodded back, pressing further into Bokuto’s side before glancing up to catch him smiling down at you.

“I’m gonna run and change, you want to go wait with ‘Samu ‘til I’m back?”

You nodded, separating yourself from his warmth before bowing quickly to the rest of the men and scurrying away.

Water ran down Bokuto’s back in the shower, and he sighed contently before shutting off the faucet and stepping out, making his way over to his locker. Hinata was pulling his shirt over his head as he turned to Bokuto, beaming at him with a hint of something playful in his eye.

“Bokuto, you didn’t tell me she was that pretty. Where’d you pick her up at?”

Bokuto snapped Hinata with his towel, grumbling under his breath to shut up as he threw his duffel over his shoulder. “I didn’t pick her up anywhere, she’s just a friend.”

“Oh, don’t ya try an’ pull that shit! Bokuto found ‘er at the bar a few months ago. Got me into a load o’trouble when he brought her into Onigiri after hours.” Atsumu griped as he approached the other two from behind, running a towel over his hair.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be breaking into other peoples businesses after hours in the first place.”

“You shut yer mouth, Omi, what do you know?!”

Hinata giggled at their banter before turning back to Bokuto, “I didn’t mean it like that, Bokuto! I just mean she seems like a good girl. You gonna bring her out tonight?”

“She’s not really into stuff like that.”

“Yeah,” Atsumu piped up again, never the best at picking up hints. “Bo jus’ goes to her house every night.” He wiggled his eyebrows at Hinata, causing Bokuto to groan.

“It’s not like that,” he whined. “She’s my friend. End of story.”

He turned on his heel to leave, and Hinata asked again if they’d be coming out. Bokuto promised he’d let him know, and he exited the locker room, heaving out a heavy sigh as he set out to find you again. His excitement about you meeting his team was waning, their comments sitting uncomfortably in his skull as each moment passed.

You’d agreed, much to his surprise, to Bokuto’s invitation out with his teammates. He asked you again and again as you sat in the passenger seat of his sleek black car, one you’d noted that you didn’t even want to know the price of, if you were sure.

“I guess I can’t avoid it forever. You’d beg my ear off another time if I said no tonight.” Your words were playful, you eyed him from the corner of your vision.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened, though you didn’t notice, and he laughed it off. Bokuto didn’t tell anybody on the team how he’d really met you, that he found you crying and hunched over on yourself in the alley that night. It wasn’t any of their business, he thought, and he didn’t want to deal with any of their questions. He turned to you as he pulled into the parking lot, his eyes saccharine as he peered into yours.

“You’re really sure? Because it’s already enough for me that you came today. I understand if you don’t wanna be out around all these people-”

“Bo,” you placed a hand over his. “I can’t hide from the public forever. Besides, you’re… You’re here with me. I’ll be fine.”

He nodded at you, interlacing his fingers with yours and giving your hand a quick squeeze before getting out of the car. He opened your door for you, placing a hand on the small of your back when you stood up, and lead you toward the doors of the bar. When you both entered, Hinata and Atsumu caught you immediately, pulling you both to a booth in the back. Hinata circled his arms around you in a tight hug, not pulling back when he felt your body tense at the contact. Bokuto peered at him through the corner of his eye, inching closer to you. He greeted his team with a tight smile, letting you slide into the booth before him.

“I’m gonna grab a drink. You want something?”

“Surprise me.”

He smiled at you, dripping with sincerity, and nodded before promising he’d be right back. As soon as he was out of ear shot, Atsumu leaned in close to you, swirling his drink around in his glass.

“S’tell me. How’d ya really meet Bo?”

You pulled your brows together. “You were there, Atsumu, you should know.”

“Nah, nah, nah. I saw ya in my brothers restaurant, I s'never told how ya ended up there.” He narrowed his eyes at you, smile never faltering.

“Atsumu, don’t be a dick.”

“Shut up, Omi. ‘M not bein’ a dick. Just asking a question.”

Your mouth was going dry at the watchful eyes surrounding you, Hinata leaning closer into your side until your shoulders knocked together. Atsumu sighed and leaned back, taking a swig from his glass and closing his eyes. “If ya don’t wanna tell us, guess ya don’t hav’ta.”

“Don’t wanna tell you guys what?” Bokuto was back, sliding into the booth next to you and pushing a drink your way.

“I was jus’ askin’ how you two met.”

“He was being a dick.”

Atsumu shot Sakusa a glare that could cut through bone, huffing as he stood up. “‘M gettin’ another drink.”

Sakusa turned to you, nodding slightly. “Don’t pay any mind to Miya, he’s got no manners at all.” You huffed a laugh out of your nose, a small smile playing on your lips as you brushed it off.

“Guess he just doesn’t like me, huh?”

“That’s not true!” Hinata bumped your shoulder again. “He likes you just fine, he told me.” He winked at you and you smiled his way, a small polite gesture while your brain begged for the subject to change. Bokuto placed a hand on your thigh under the table, giving it a quick squeeze as he sipped his drink, staring into the crowd at the bartop. Hinata started on about how many receives he got during the game, and conversations and play by plays ensued as you sat back and listened to them. Atsumu returned, picking another fight with Sakusa about something, earning a groan from the entire table as they bickered with one another. Bokuto’s hand never left your thigh, his fingers tracing small circles in the skin below the hem of your skirt, just above where your knee hitched.

You excused yourself to the bathroom, and Bokuto kept his eyes trained on your back, only turning back to his team when he couldn't see you anymore. He was met with the watchful eyes of two very curious teammates. "Yer keepin' a secret from us," Atsumu pouted.

"You're drunk, 'Tsumu." Bokuto tensed his jaw for a moment, inhaling deeply.

"Just tell them how you met her and they'll leave you alone, Bokuto. It's like reasoning with children." Sakusa mumbled, downing the rest of his drink and staring into his empty glass.

"It doesn't matter how we met, why are you guys so pushy about this? Can't you just be excited that you all finally got to meet her and she's hanging out? It's a lot for her to be out this much since-" He bit his tongue, catching the end of his sentence behind his teeth before it could pass his lips. But Atsumu was too sharp, leaning forward on his elbows with wide eyes.

"Since what, huh? S'it the secret?"

Hinata leaned forward as well, stars in his eyes like he was about to hear the most important sentence in the world.

"I met her behind the bar, alright? I found her, she was in the alley and she was crying and somebody was trying to-" his voice broke, picturing your teary eyes the night he saw you for the first time. "Somebody, was trying to hurt her. And I just happened to be there. Alright? I, I stopped a rape. I guess. Are you guys happy?"

Sakusa opened his mouth to speak, but closed it just as quickly.

The trio stayed silent, all of them averting eye contact until Sakusa cleared his throat, sliding his glass to the center of the table and cocking his head to the side slightly. Bokuto was about to ask if they truly had nothing to say, if they badgered him so long for no reason, but the chance to speak didn't come.

"Um,"

His head turned so quickly he thought it'd give him whiplash. You stood behind him, your fingers tangled together and brow knit in a tight furrow. You clenched and unclenched your jaw, cocking your head to look him in the eye. "I'm- I think I'm going to go. It was really lovely to meet you, Hinata, Sakusa. Atsumu, nice to see you."

You pushed your way through the small crowds in the bar, ignoring the sound of Bokuto calling after you. It wasn't until you were outside that you realised, no car. Your feet made a beeline for the bus stop down the street, lungs burning with the desire to get as far away from the embarrassment blooming under your skin as possible. A familiar hand wrapped itself around your wrist. You turned and were met with Bokuto's face so close, you could make out every detail in his irises. He was huffing through a staggered breath, brows knit together.

"What are you doing?"

You swallowed thickly, the feeling of tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. "I- Why would you tell them that, Bokuto? I was doing fine. I am doing fine, I don't want to think about it anymore."

"Listen, I didn't... They wouldn't stop asking, I got frustrated."

"You got frustrated," a tear rolled down your cheek, catching underneath your chin. "And now your friends all look at me like some pity case."

He caught his lower lip between his teeth, shaking his head at you. "Nobody's gonna look at you like that."

"You do. I know how it burdens you." You spat your words at him before thinking, wincing at your own tone. His hand dropped from where he held your wrist, he took a step backwards and narrowed his eyes.

"What do you think of me?" His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. "You think that I try to make sure you're okay because I pity you? You think that I come and spend my time with you because I feel bad for you? Do you even hear what you're saying?”

He carded his hands through his hair, stuttering as he searched for the words that would convey his frustrations. “God, I- I spend all this time, I think about you every moment that I’m not with you, because I just want you to be happy. All I want is for you to be happy! Don’t you understand that? I would drop anything to be there if you needed me. And you think I’m just doing it because it’s a responsibility, a burden?”

He grabbed you by the shoulders, in the same way that a parent would when scolding their child, staring into your eyes, unblinking and unwavering. “I am here to make sure nobody, nobody will ever make you feel that way again. It has nothing to do with pity. I’m here because I want to be.”

Your thoughts were too erratic to respond, so you nodded your head at him, mumbling the softest I’m sorry over and over, like they were the only words you knew. Your lip quivered as he threw his jacket over your shoulders, pushing you toward the car and opening the door for you to get in. He was silent the entire drive, white knuckles gripping the steering wheel and his jaw tensed so hard you feared his teeth might crack against each other. He pulled into your driveway, staring at his lap, still tight lipped and refusing to look your way for even a second.

You fumbled with the door handle, pushing it open and swinging your legs out, clearing your throat. "Thank you, for driving me home." He grunted in response, tightening the heartstrings that ran about your chest. You bowed your head, leaving the car and shutting the door softly. His hand landed on the shifter in the same moment that his own door popped open, you stood to the side, waiting for him to follow.

"Come inside. Please."

Bokuto stood in your kitchen, hands braced on the kitchen counter behind him as he leaned his weight against it. You stood across from him, arms crossed over your chest, and you chewed on your lip, a nervous habit you couldn't kick. The silence hung heavy in the room, like a thick fog you couldn't see the end of. Your hand came up to tap your fingernails against your chin, anxiously bouncing your leg up and down.

He was the first to break the silence.

"I'm sorry, that I told them. It’s not my place."

You hummed in response, watching his features fall in a sad sort of grimace. "I don't know what would have happened to me if you weren't there." Your gaze fell to your feet, you tasted iron as you bit particularly hard on your lip. Your ears were burning, he took a step forward. Your stomach was on the floor, your heart in your throat. He grabbed your cheeks. You blinked up at him through unshed tears, he offered you a sad smile, the kind of smile you wear when somebody tells you something tragic and you want to comfort them. He was still for a beat, thumbs running over your cheeks and catching moisture at your lashline. “I mean it, Bokuto. I don’t think I could’ve helped myself, if you didn’t find me that night. I think I would’ve-”

“Don’t. Don’t say whatever you’re thinking. It doesn’t matter. I found you, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

He pulled you into his chest, laying your head against him as he circled your frame with his arms. He ran a hand over your head, fingers catching in your hair and you felt his shirt stick to your cheek as it became soaked with the tears that you finally let fall. He shushed you, squeezing his arms tighter and placing a kiss to your hairline. You felt a wave of guilt wash over you, filling your chest with a need to push away your weaknesses for his sake. It was always like this when you cried, Bokuto always held onto you and told you that it was okay, but tonight felt entirely different. You believed him, for the first time. You were sure that as long as Bokuto was by you, nothing could break you down again. Divine intervention; your mother had taught you about deity’s when you were a child, the providence of bringing miracles to your life in the moments you needed them most. As you stared up at Bokuto, his eyes closed and humming into your hair, you knew he was brought to you for a reason. He was your Soter.

“I’m sorry, Bokuto.”

“Why are you apologising to me?”

“I know you don’t do these things out of pity,” your voice was a whisper against his chest, through sniffles and a sense of shame. Your fingers danced with the hem of his shirt, twisting and pulling at it as if it were keeping you grounded against him. “Thank you for saving me.”

His chest stopped rising as his breath hitched in his throat, he shut his eyes to hold back the tears that welled on his lashline, refusing to let you see him in a moment of vulnerability. He was there to comfort you, not be comforted, he told himself. “I’d do it again. Any day.”

He pulled back, hands on your shoulders, and looked into your eyes. His golden irises bored into yours, and you swore you could see a lifetime through them. He brought a hand up to brush the hair out of your face, running it down your cheek and landing on your jaw. You turned your cheek into the contact, sighing at the warmth of his skin against yours. He laughed, a small thing huffed through his slightly parted lips, and you eyed him curiously. You watched a blush take over his face, sprouting at the bridge of his nose before it invaded his cheeks, painting his skin the sweetest shade of pink.

“I wanna say something stupid,” he whispered. “It seems kinda out of place to say it right now. I think we just had our first fight.”

“Nothing you ever say is stupid.”

He pursed his lips at you. “Most of the things you say aren’t stupid.” You corrected with a coy smile.

“I wanna tell you that I love you.”

Gods, if they were up there, you swore they were trying to kill you. Your heart jumped to your throat and your skin began burning so hot you thought you would combust, turn to a pile of ashes right before Bokuto’s eyes. Your mouth dropped slightly, your eyes widened.

“I’m telling you that I love you. I love you.” The words dripped off his tongue like he’d been rehearsing them, he sounded confident, like it was the only truth he knew. He smiled fully, letting it take over his entire face, his puppy dog eyes crinkling at the corners. “I think you made me fall in love with you.”

You noticed the tears in his eyes when he leaned down closer to you, his nose bumped against yours and his breath tickled your lips, silently begging for permission to slot his lips against yours. You tilted your chin up, the softest brush against his lips brought all resolve he held crumbling down as he pressed into you with the need of a man who’d been holding back for months. His plush lips worked against yours, his hands cupping your jaw to bring you closer to him. With a breathless whine, you circled your arms around his neck, and he moved to grasp your hips, bringing you to sit on the counter. He positioned himself between your thighs, pressing his hands into the fat of your hips so harsh you thought bruises would form if he didn’t let go.

“Bo,” you broke the kiss, opening your eyes to study his face.

“Koutarou.”

“K-Koutarou,” he groaned, hearing his name fall from your lips like music to his ears. He pressed into you again, hungrily kissing down your neck and across the plane of your chest.

“I love you, I want to make sure you know it.”

“Love you s’much, Kou, please.” Your head was thrown back as he continued his assault on your skin, pressing open mouthed kisses everywhere he could reach. “Please, show me how you love me.”

His eyes rolled back, he hooked his arms under your legs, wrapping them around his waist and carried you toward your bedroom, fumbling with the door handle as he laughed against your neck. When he finally nudged the door open, he dropped you on top of the mattress and was quick to find himself hovering over you, hands caging your face on either side. He leaned over you, pressing kisses from your mouth down to your jaw, bringing a hand down to travel below the hem of your shirt. His cold fingertips raised goosebumps against your skin, and he looked to you for permission to remove the garment. You nodded, arching your back to help him peel it off. His large hands grazed across your chest, down your stomach and back up, landing on the cup of your bra. He leaned down to press wet kisses along the valley between your breasts, humming in content when he heard a moan slip past your lips. His fingers hooked under the straps, pulling them down your arms until your tits were exposed, and he sighed when he ran his fingertips along your nipples.

“You’re so beautiful, love. More perfect than I could have imagined.”

Your cheeks burned at his words, his hands gliding lower until they hooked under the hem of your skirt. You lifted your hips, letting him pull the zipper down slowly. You made work to unhook your bra, tossing it somewhere in the dark to distract yourself from the anxiety of Bokuto shimmying your skirt off your legs. He pressed kisses down your stomach, stopping at the waistband of your underwear. He scooted himself farther up the bed, nudging your thighs apart to position himself between them. He leaned down to kiss you again, softer this time. He rolled a nipple between his fingers, earning a moan and slipping his tongue into your mouth. He ran it over yours, groaning at the taste of you, the one he’d wanted to know for so long.

He leaned back on his knees, his hands on either side of your rib cage, and studied you for a moment. You turned your head away, embarrassed at the vulnerability you felt being so exposed under his watchful gaze. He pulled his shirt over his head, discarding it and leaning down again, hooking his fingers under your panties.

“Are you sure?” His voice dripped with concern, his confidence wavering.

“Please, Kou. I want you.”

“You gotta say yes, baby.”

“Yes, Koutarou. Yes, please.”

His spine tingled as he slid your underwear down your thighs, your calfs, before you were out of them completely, laid bare in front of him like the most beautiful art he’d ever seen. He laid flat on his stomach, thumbing your folds apart and sucking a harsh breath in when he felt your essence coat his fingers.

“So perfect,” he placed a kiss above your pubic bone, leaning his head against your thigh and feeling you shiver beneath his touch. His calloused fingertip ran over your clit lightly, pulling a moan from you that you muffled under your hand. “Don’t cover your mouth, I wanna hear every sound you make. I just wanna make sure you feel good,” his breath was hot against your core, and you opened your mouth to respond but were racked with a loud moan when you felt his tongue press a hot line up your slit. He flattened his mouth against you, circling your dripping hole with his tongue, humming against you.

“You taste good,” he pulled back, teasing your hole with a single finger before leaning down again, flicking his tongue against your clit. Your chest heaved at the sensation, pretty moans and soft pants gracing Bokuto’s ears as he continued circling your clit. He pushed a finger into you, hooking it to press against the spongey spot inside you that made you see stars. Your breathing hitched in your throat as you felt another finger slide into your sex, he scissored them, stretching you perfectly and sending heat to form in your stomach. His movements were slow, he savoured the feeling of your walls clenching around his fingers as he licked a harsh stripe up your center, latching his lips onto your clit and sucking. Tears sprang in your eyes as a hot wave washed over you, sending you convulsing around his fingers as you came, crying out his name in the dark. He pressed a kiss to your clit, moving up to kiss you. His chin was wet with spit and the taste of you, but you didn’t care, engulfed with the need to feel him as close to you as possible. He pressed his hips into yours, dragged his clothed erection across your heat. He pulled back, pushing his pants past his thighs and kicking them off. You stared at him with hungry eyes, taking in the sight of his thick cock, weeping precum from the tip as he smiled down at you.

“Why’re you crying, pretty? I’m gonna take care of you,” he pressed kisses against your jaw, sucking the skin below your ear as he ran his cock against the petals of your pussy, coating himself with your slick, bumping the head against your clit. "Gonna make sure nobody ever hurts you again, yeah? Gonna take care of you, always." He pressed against your hole, letting out a shuddered breath. “Let me take care of you. As long as you'll have me. This okay?”

“Mhm, just wanna feel you,” your arms circled his neck, pulling him back into a needy kiss as he began sinking into you, groaning at the feeling of your walls hugging him tightly. He pulled back to look down at the sight of his cock disappearing into you, halting when he bottomed out. He turned his head back to you, bringing a hand up to wipe away the tears that rolled into your hairline.

“Don’t cry, baby, please.” He pulled back until just his cockhead remained in you, snapping his hips forward again and drawing a moan out of you. He began a slow pace, dropping his head into the crook of your neck.

“‘hmy god, baby. Y’feel so good. So perfect for me,” he pressed kisses along your collarbones, bringing his hands up to grope at your chest. “Love you, love everything about you.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, wanting to pull him impossibly close as his cock kissed your cervix, knocking the air out of your lungs. You grabbed his face, lifting his head to look into his eyes. Each drag of his cock against your walls sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt the coil in your stomach begin to tighten again.

He huffed out a laugh, quickening his pace. His balls slapped against your ass with every thrust, and he brought a hand down to circle his fingers against your clit. “C’mere,” he used his free hand to grab your ankle, pushing your knee to your chest and reaching deeper into you with his cock. The new angle he was fucking into you at had you crying out his name, raking your nails down his back, leaving thin red marks in their wake. “‘s that good, baby? God, you’re gonna make me cum already. You want that?”

You nodded your head, fresh tears tracking down your cheeks as his name fell off your tongue like a prayer. He smiled down at you, leaning to press his tongue into your mouth again. He pushed a glob of spit into your mouth, groaning when he watched you swallow it down. “Want you to cum again, baby, cum on my cock. Can you do that for me?” He pressed kisses along your cheeks, catching the salty tears against his lips. You nodded, feeling the threat of an orgasm build inside you when his fingers pressed hard against your clit, pinching and rolling it between the calloused tips.

“K-Kou, ‘m cumming, a-ah!”

His eyes rolled back, feeling your walls clamp down around him as you came, coating his cock in a sheen of white. His hips stuttered, movement faltering as he felt his own release nearing. His balls tightened, feeling relief wash over him as he came, painting your insides with thick white cum. He continued to fuck into you, catching your lips in a kiss as you swallowed his moans, raising your hips to meet every messy thrust he pounded into you. Overstimulation threatened him, and he collapsed on top of you, his dick pulling out with a loud squelching sound. He pressed lazy kisses to you neck before pushing himself off, disappearing from the room while covering his ass with his hands, earning a lazy giggle from you.

He returned to find you tucked under the covers, and his heart swelled at the sight, guilty that he had to move you. He pulled the blanket back, cleaning you off with a warm rag before tossing it aside with both of your discarded clothes, shifting into bed with you and pulling the covers back over your bodies. You pressed yourself against his side, laying your head against his bare chest. He peppered kisses across the crown of your head, whispering I love you’s over and over in the dark. You moved to look up at him, and he met your gaze with a soft smile. He pushed your hair back, sighing contently before you noticed tears welling in his lashes.

“Kou, why are you crying?”

“I don’t know. I’m happy, I think I’ve loved for a long time. I just didn’t know it.”

“You didn’t know?”

“I just thought,” he ran a hand over his face, hiding his blush and wiping the tears from his eyes with a chuckle. “I just thought I wanted to protect you. Every time I pictured you crying, the first time I met you, I just got overwhelmed with this feeling that I never wanted to see you like that again. I never want you to be hurt again.”

You laid your head back down, tracing hearts into his skin with your fingertip. You hummed, smiling to yourself. “I’ve known for a long time.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He was talking to the ceiling, his hand came up to hold yours, squeezing lightly.

“It wouldn’t have been fair.”

“Hm?”

“If I told you I loved you,” you squeezed his hand back. “I’d be keeping a deity to myself. But I think I’m done playing fair. I don’t want you going anywhere.”

“I’m not, love. You’ve got me.”

You kissed his hand, bringing it to your chest and pressing further into him. If Gods were real, you found yours, and you weren’t planning on letting him go any time soon.

ahhh!! ok there it is. i hope it's good. it's very self indulgent and i never know how to end fics BUT thank u if u read the whole thing!! i'd love to hear feedback and hope that u will stick around to read some more in the future! <3

[aomineavenue]

Summary: Six years ago, L/N Y/N wouldn’t exactly say that she loves her life. It had always been problematic but her best friend, Miya Atsumu, since she was eight when she moved to Hyōgo, has always been there for her, and she wouldn’t change it for the world. However, things would always fall apart for her ever since, so she should have expected of such. Running away from her problems seemed like the easiest route to take at the time, so what happens when the past comes barging back into her life demanding answers? Will she be able to confront her demons?

Pairings: Miya Atsumu x f!Reader

Genre: Angst, ANGST I LOVE ANGST, a lil bit of fluff here and there.

Warnings: Language, etc.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters except for the reader and my ideas. I do not claim any images used for content in this fic, everything goes out to their respective creators unless it is mentioned that it is mine.

Status: completed. | series masterlist

↩ at peace | dearest daddy

mia speaks!: 

okay, wow. So it took awhile for us to get here and I apologize for that but we’re finally done with Homesick, wew. It’s been a challenge but I’m so happy and grateful for all the positivity you guys have been sharing with me. Also, thank you so much for your patience. 

It’s been an emotional ride but we’re finally done. There may be a few short stories after this chapter but no promises. Hopefully I get the chance to though, I do want to be able to. But for now, if you guys have any requests for imagines/scenarios with this series, don’t be afraid to send them over!

Also, big thanks to @oii-sugasan​ and @sunshinesero​ for beta-reading this for me! I apologize if this chapter is any way lacking compared to the first nine chapters, it’s been awhile since I wrote anything so I hope this was a great way to end this series. 

I love you guys so much, I’m so glad to be (sorta) back. I hope you guys enjoy this!

Time was a funny and fickle thing. Sometimes there was never enough of it, and other times it stretched out endlessly. It had been seven months since your life had once again made drastic changes. It often surprised you how time flew by so fast.

Seven months since your two precious boys had been introduced to the man that they now call their father. And well, seven months since you had been reunited with the love of your life. Sure, it had ups and downs, it wasn’t bound to be perfect since the two of you were your own person. It was inevitable for such different personalities to clash, it didn’t help when there were two children present, one of them being as handful as their own father.

Atsumu had shown that he was a doting father, despite only being a part of their lives for less than a year, he had put his new family as his top priority, wanting to make up for lost time. He would instantly drop anything and everything, sometimes even volleyball when he could for times when his family needed him. Not that his new family had been a burden since then, his sons and of course you, have been nothing but loving and supportive. Showing up to games to cheer him on and the twins attending his training to either join or just watch their father and new favorite uncles.

It had been a rollercoaster ride since it was officially announced that Atsumu was off the market and that he actually had sons. Some fans were supportive, believing the news and claiming that both the young twins were striking replicas of the volleyball player. And of course, there were fans that were against it, raging how you were nothing more than a money-grabbing harlot and that you had probably lied to Atsumu about the twins being his.

They were quickly shut down, of course, by not just fans but various people close to the volleyball setter who defended you without you even asking for it. You weren’t going to lie, that particular month filled with venomous words thrown your direction stressed you out but it was mostly because of your motherly instincts, wanting to keep your sons away from such unnecessary drama. You and Atsumu had decided to ignore the majority of the vile comments but seeing you so emotionally exhausted had only fueled the already tiny flame in Atsumu. He was quick to announce that he would no longer tolerate any form of slander towards his family and would handle things legally if anyone were to step out of line.

And by the next few weeks, the hate simmered and the stress that had engulfed you and Atsumu in its grip had vanished. All that was left that made you both worry was Atsuhiro’s health.

Fortunately, Atsuhiro’s sickness didn’t grow worse as time passed by since his first transfusion. If anything, the boy was healthier and it was very much evident in his features. The healthy glow returned to his skin, he was smiling more and had shown his usual energetic-self like before he had fallen ill. Atsumu on the other hand, much to Atsuhiro’s dismay, had started becoming such an overprotective father. It took a lot of begging from Atsuhiko for their father to spend the day outside of the protective bubble of your apartment.

It took time and patience from everyone’s side to get this far, and for Atsumu, (and of course, you) he didn’t mind it one bit. He had grown more mature, despite his twin brother’s disagreements, he not only took care of himself more but he had become a role model to his sons.

Not only that, but as his relationship with his sons grew stronger, the love the two of you had for each other only seemed to intensify as well. Sure, the two of you had ups and downs back then in your friendship but it was as if time and distance hadn’t kept the two of you apart. If anything, it was as if it made your bond stronger. Two best friends, reuniting and finally expressing their true desires, it was easy for the two of you to fall into a comfortable routine.

“Where are the boys of the hour? I’ve been wanting to see how good Hiko looks in my jersey!”

Bokuto interrupts your thoughts for a brief second before you return your focus to your duties of cutting up the vegetables in the kitchen. You can’t help but chuckle at the sour expression that graces Atsumu’s expression as he fills a tray of refreshments on one of the island counters. “Don’t remind me, Bo-kun.”

“You’re just jealous that your sons didn’t want to wear your jersey," he teases, a playful grin on his lips as he lifts himself off of the ground by his hands to sit on the counter.

The scowl on Atsumu's face only deepens at the reminder, "Get off the counter, Bo-kun. Don't be rude. Why don't you actually start to help and give out these refreshments to the guests?"

You watch in amusement as the two exchange their usual banter around the kitchen of your home in Hyogo. It was decided a week ago after Atsuhiro's second transfusion was a success, that the twins would celebrate their birthday back at Hyogo instead of having the guests cramp up in your small apartment in Kanagawa.

It was also then decided by your sons what theme they would be having for their birthday. It was traditional for the twins to have their birthdays themed depending on their current interest. Lately, since the two were very fixated on volleyball due to their new favorite uncles and of course, their father, it was decided that they would be having a volleyball themed birthday where the guests were required to wear their favorite player's jersey.

For a minute, your new friend Bokuto had been rather excited upon hearing the idea.

"So show up with our own jerseys? Great!"

And as for Atsumu, he was excited at the prospect of seeing his own sons wearing his jersey. That is, until his sons destroyed such dreams.

"Are the two of you really sure?" you hear Atsumu's voice echoing from the twins' bedroom throughout the walls of the apartment as you stepped inside, shutting the door behind you as you ventured further into the comforts of your home. “Like really? Those are your choices?”

You grew curious as you slipped out of your shoes and let your hair loose from its tight bun, wincing slightly from your tugging. There was a tinge of whininess dripping from Atsumu’s voice that you couldn’t help but wonder what the three of them were talking about. It wasn’t unusual for Atsumu to be around when you had to work on days where the boys came home from school or when they didn’t have school.

At most times, when Atsumu didn't have training, he would be the one taking care of the boys instead of your mother or Osamu. Majority of his free time away from volleyball was spent with his sons, wanting to make up for the time he had lost. And there wasn't a day where the young twins wouldn't ask about their father and if he was going to visit. It was as if they were scared one of them would disappear, wanting to spend the entirety of their lives together.

"Maybe we can go with superheroes this year!" Atsumu's voice grew louder as you reached the door to the room where they occupied. Leaning against the door's frame, your eyes land on the back of Atsumu's head as he's seated on the carpeted floor facing the twins who were playing with their action figures. A small grin curling upon your lips at the sight of Atsumu’s slightly dishevelled bleached hair.

Atsuhiro, who seems to have the ability to sense your presence, looks up from his toys and in an instant, his eyes widen happily. He was about to greet you but you quickly pressed your index finger against your lips to signal the little boy not to announce your presence just yet, wanting to see Atsuhiko and Atsumu's interaction. The smart little boy that he is, nods and returns to his toys.

"But daddy," Atsuhiko protests, his focus still on the action figures in his hands, "We did superheroes last year! I wanna wear Uncle Bo's jersey!"

You fight the urge to burst out into a fit of giggles as soon as you catch a glimpse of Atsumu slumping his shoulders dejectedly. Now you understand as to why he had his moppy voice on. "But don't you want to wear daddy's jersey for your birthday?"

"But daddy," Atsuhiko lets out a sigh, looking up at his father with a look that meant the little boy wasn't up for any arguments on the matter, "Uncle Bo is the best! So I wanna wear his jersey!"

You could have sworn you heard Atsumu whine, suddenly wishing you had decided to film this from the start. "But it will make daddy really happy if you wear his jersey!"

Atsuhiko shakes his head as he continues to play with his action figures, "But I want Uncle Bo and I to match!"

Atsumu sighs in defeat before turning his attention over to Atsuhiro, looking hopeful. "What about you, Hiro? Would you wear daddy's jersey?"

"No, daddy. I wanna wear Kageyama-san's jersey," he nods with a proud smile, "Wanna be just like him! He's so good!"

"But daddy's just as good a setter as Tobio-kun!" Atsumu cries out, throwing his hands up in the air, "betrayed by my own children. 'Samu isn't going to let me live this down."

This time, you let your presence be known by finally releasing a bubble of laughter. Atsuhiko instantly drops his action figures and rushes over with a happy squeal. Atsumu pivots his body, looking up at you with such a pitiful gaze as he juts his lower lips out ot a pout, "I want new children."

Needless to say, Atsumu had been pouty ever since and has been dreading today due to the reason that every single one of his friends had found out about it. He had tried a handful of times to change their minds, unfortunately, the young twins won't budge.

“It’s not my fault your kids like me better than you,” he huffs, folding his arms across his chest, “I am an ordinary ace after all!”

A scowl graces on Atsumu’s features which causes the other occupants in the room to chuckle in amusement. It wasn’t as if Atsumu didn’t like the idea of his sons becoming close to his teammates, but lately, it was getting harder for the setter to share. “Get your own children!”

“Ah, about that...” Bokuto trails off with a nervous chuckle which causes everyone to fall silent and look at him in curiosity, “I actually will be getting my own child soon, I think.”

“You think?” you ask with an arched brow, “You can’t just think you’re having a child, Bokuto-san.”

Atsumu interjects, “And aren’t you in love with that best friend of yours? What happened to never being with anyone else but her?”

He waves his hand in the air dismissively with a frown etched on his lips, “Well, I can’t exactly be with her when she just got married.”

“You are so getting your ear torn off by the management when this news gets out,” Atsumu snickers, which he earns a smack to his shoulder from you. “Ow!”

You narrow your gaze at your boyfriend, completely unamused with his behavior. “Don't be dramatic, I didn't hit you that hard!" Letting out a huff as you wipe your hands on the apron you were wearing, "You aren’t helping Bokuto, ‘Tsumu.”

His lips curl up to a cheeky grin at the sight of your expression. He leans forward to nuzzle his nose against your cheek, your cheeks growing warm from the public display of affection. His heart swells from your reaction to his gesture, murmuring teasingly, “Sorry, darling.”

“Please, don’t make me barf.” Osamu interrupts with his features scrunched up in distaste from the interaction between you and his brother.

Atsumu sticks his tongue out at his brother who returns the gesture with a shake of his head. His arm snakes around your waist to pull you closer to his side as he returns his attention over to his teammate, “Well, is the woman making you marry her?”

“Making you pay for child support?” Osamu quickly adds.

Atsumu quips with a chuckle, “Threatening to expose your sins?”

You interrupt the two with a glare towards them, “Stop ganging up on him!”

Bokuto lets out a laugh as he begins helping your mother set up the desserts onto one of the trays to bring outside to the guests, “Nothing like that, she’s pretty chill and we’ve gotten pretty close lately. So we’re going to co-parent.”

“That’s very mature of you, Bokuto-kun.” your mother compliments him with a smile before patting his back.

He feels his cheeks grow warm from the compliment, his heart swelling with pride. “Thank you.”

“Maybe you’ll end up falling for her anyway,” Osamu teases with a smirk playing on his lips, leaning against one of the kitchen counters.

He shakes his head at the idea as his brows knit together, “Jess and I won’t fall in love.”

“Jess?” Atsumu blinks at the familiar name before his eyes widens at the realization, releasing his grip from your waist, “Jess, that journalist that you showed around town when she first visited Japan?”

Bokuto nods with a smile gracing his features, “Yeah, she’s pretty cool.”

“Maybe you’ll learn to love her in your own way through your child,” you suggest with a shrug of your shoulders as you began untying the apron you were wearing upon realizing what time it was.

Atsumu shakes his head and responds before Bokuto could utter a single word, “No, no. That’s impossible. Bo-kun’s heart belongs to his best friend.”

“Stop teasing him,” you scold your boyfriend with a shake of your head, handing over the apron you successfully took off, “make yourself useful and help out here in the kitchen,"

"Bu—"

Cutting him off with a stern glare as you lift a tray from one of the kitchen counters and handing it over to Bokuto, a small smile gracing your lips, "Don't mind him, Bo. Can you bring these to the backyard and help out if anyone else needs help? I think Reiji needs a hand setting up the bouncy castle,"

Retrieving the tray from your hands, his eyes lighting up from the excitement, "bouncy castle, you say?"

"That's for the kids, Bo-kun." Atsumu scoffs but soon lets his lips form into a pout when he had been ignored, turning his attention over to you once Bokuto slips out of the kitchen, "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to check on the boys to see if they're ready for their big entrance," you muse with an amused grin. Of course, you knew what your sons had prepared for the big entrance that they insisted. Atsumu had pestered both you and the young twins since he had heard of their plan but as your sons refused to budge, you had feigned clueless, claiming that your sons had opted it to be a surprise.

Little did Atsumu know that you had helped your sons pull off such an idea.

"I don't get why they have to have a big entrance," he sighs, brows furrowing as he racks through his thoughts on what the surprise could be. It didn't help that he was both curious and excited at what his sons might pull off.

Osamu lets out a snort, rolling his eyes at his twin brother as a smirk curls upon his lips, "What do you mean? They're your kids."

"What does that even mean?" Atsumu scowls as he slips on the apron you had handed over, walking over to where your mother was situated to take over what you were doing.

You shake your head at the two bickering older twins and shoot a look of sympathy towards your mother that was going to be left with them in the kitchen before she waves you off. Your heart was swelling from happiness at how natural everything felt, despite the silly banter thrown around. It was home.

As you step into your childhood living room, you're hit with a nostalgic wave from the memories surrounding the whole area. Though it may be a mixture of good and bad memories, since you had come to terms that you were no longer running away from your past, you only feel comfort. You made your way through your childhood home over to the bedroom that had been renovated to the liking of your twin boys.

The mere thought of your boys growing to love the place where you had grown up yourself was enough to bring a smile to your face. You press your knuckles against the wooden door to signal your presence by knocking on it repeatedly, “Are you two ready?” you ask, your voice probably muffled on the other side. Your fingers wrap around the handle of the door and as you were about to twist and push it open, the door instantly snaps back shut with a loud thud. “Can’t-”

“No, mommy!” Atsuhiko screeched causing you to blink from both the surprised force and tone. Pressing your palms and ear against the door to hear what the commotion was all about, you frown upon hearing only their shuffling feet, “What are you two doing? Guests have arrived and your party will be starting soon,”

“We’re almost ready, mommy!” Atsuhiro assures you from the other side.

A chuckle escapes your lips at their antics as you decide to not interfere any further, “Alright you two, just be sure to be out in a few. You don’t want your daddy to come fetch you. It’ll ruin the surprise.”

“Okay mommy!” you heard Atsuhiko yell out, their excited muffled voices purely obvious from the other side that you couldn’t help but smile.

On the other hand, back in the kitchen, the father of your twins was having his own little dilemma back in the kitchen. It wasn’t as if he was uncomfortable being around your mother, but it was more like he felt he was still lacking.

Despite him knowing that your mother and you hadn’t had the greatest relationship when your father passed away, he still wanted to be someone your mother would approve of. He didn’t know whether your mother knew the whole story of the relationship between the two of you but being away from you and your sons during most of their childhood was enough to make him worry. The mere idea of his sons looking up to him sent his heart soaring, but of course, he also wanted your mother to feel secure enough for him to be together with you and the twins.

“I’ll bring out these sliced up fruits outside,” Osamu cuts the clear tension surrounding the kitchen. Atsumu resists the urge to glare at his twin for leaving him behind with your mother, knowing full well that his brother knows his current insecurities. A small smirk graces Osamu’s features but not the obvious one that would make your mother notice.

Atsumu watches his twin slip out of the kitchen with a tray full of food for the guests before flickering his gaze over to your mother situated at the other side of the room, making final touches to the cupcakes. “Is there anything else that I can do?”

Without looking up, a smile etches on your mother’s face. “No, it’s fine. We’re just about done with everything.”

“It looks good,” he states with a nod of his head, not really knowing what to say.

Placing the piping bag to the side, your mother lifts her head up to look towards the direction of Atsumu and wipes her hands on the apron she’s currently wearing, “You know you can always start calling me mom.”

The mere sentence made Atsumu want to leap in excitement, but at the same time he was nervous, a sudden fear of messing things up engulfing him. “I don’t want to overste-”

“Oh please,” your mother waves her hand in the air with a light chuckle, “I’ve known you since you were eight. We’re practically family. So you might as well call me mom.”

Atsumu couldn’t help but let the corners of his mouth tug up to a wide smile, “Alright, mom.”

“I’m really happy that the two of you decided to work things out,” your mother spoke with a smile as she delicately places the cupcakes on the cupcake stand.”

His feet shuffled across the room to help your mother stack the cupcakes onto the stand, “We had to for the kids anyway.”

Your mother hums in thought for a second before responding, “I think the kids were just the push the two of you needed. If anything, I’ve always thought the two of you would always end up together since the two of you always leaned on each other for anything.”

He nods his head slowly, leaning against the counter as he feels his heart swell with happiness. “I guess you’re right, mom. I did lean on her majority of the time when we were growing up. I guess I still am now. I just wish I could make her happy.”

“Don’t worry, you do. Before she left Hyogo, I know for a fact that she was miserable in this house after her dad had passed. You were the only one giving her a reason to move forward,” your mother spoke, sadness dripping from her voice.

A sigh escapes Atsumu’s lips as his features scrunch up to something that resembles pain. “I was also the reason why she left. I may be even the biggest reason why she left.”

Your mother extends an arm out and places a hand on Atsumu’s arm, trying her best to give assurance and comfort, “You weren’t the only reason behind that. I don’t know if she’s told you, but I had neglected her. I’m not proud of it and apologies are probably never enough for forgiveness. I was barely a mother when my husband had passed. I was almost an empty shell and instead of being a moth-”

“Mom,” Atsumu cuts her off and grabs hold of her hand in his own, “Don’t blame yourself. She loves you very much. It’s all in the past. We’ll be able to move forward, we already are.”

The two were interrupted with Osamu’s arrival, knocking by the kitchen’s door frame to announce his return. A smile etched on his lips at the scene before him, “Hey, Y/N wants everyone in the living room. Apparently the boys are ready to make their big entrance.”

Your mother excuses herself as soon as she removes the apron tied around her, excitement clearly evident in her features. Atsumu knew it well, despite the relationship that you had been slowly rebuilding with your mother, she was just as excited as him to have the twins into her life. She has equally doted on, if not more, on the twins ever since and well, Atsumu wouldn’t have it any other way.

Atsumu knew for a fact that you adored the time you’ve been sharing with your mother. As long as you were happy, nothing else mattered.

Osamu gives him a pat on the back, arching a brow in curiosity as they make their way out of the kitchen, “Everything alright?”

Atsumu gives him a nod, giving him the largest grin that he could muster. “Yeah, definitely.”

“You look disgusting,” Osamu jokes, pretending to shudder which causes Atsumu to give him a shove as they step into the living room where most of the guests have already gathered.

“Hey ‘tsumu!” Bokuto calls out from next to you as soon as Atsumu comes into view. “Hurry up! I’m excited to see Hiko in my jersey!”

Atsumu rolls his eyes as he approaches, grumbling to himself. As soon as he reaches your side, he places a quick kiss to your temple before snaking an arm around your waist to pull you closer. “Yeah, yeah. You have to stop rubbing it in. We get it.”

You couldn’t help but let a laugh escape your lips as you lean yourself into Atsumu’s warmth, “Oh come on now you two, focus on the big entrance will you?”

Bokuto just snickers from the side while Atsumu sends him a glare. If you were to describe the two of them, they were practically acting like petty children but you know those two will eventually switch attitudes as soon as your twins step out to make their entrance.

You flicker your gaze over to Osamu who was situated a few steps ahead from your little group, trying his best to act natural with his phone up. The two of you had discussed prior to the party that he would be the one to film the whole thing going on. Your little boys had practically begged their uncle to film their big entrance but mostly, what you hoped Osamu to capture was Atsumu’s reaction.

A part of you expects that he would be a grinning mess at the sight of his kids but also, you’re also hoping he’d be speechless from all the teasing his kids put him through of having to wear someone else’s jersey.

“What’s taking them so long?” Atsumu asks, tilting his head slightly hoping to meet your eyes as his fingers play with the hem of your shirt.

As you were about to answer him, the familiar voices of your two boys echo throughout the room from the top of the stairs. You didn’t even have to look to know about their surprise since you know very well of what they had planned. Well, obviously, you had helped them out with picking up the jerseys that they were going to wear.

However, you had wanted to capture Atsumu’s reaction to your boys with your own two eyes instead of just watching it from a video. And honestly speaking, you didn’t think you’d fall in love with this man any more than you already do but here you are.

Just the mere sight of his features scrunching up to a look of awe was enough for your heart to swell. It looked as if he was close to tears as watches the twins descend the stairs with the prodest smiles they could muster.

You pry yourself away from his side as soon as the twins approach Atsumu, knowing full well what was going to happen as they had practiced what they were going to say. Flickering your gaze over to Atsuhiko and Atsuhiro, seeing them in Atsumu’s high school volleyball jersey made your own eyes water despite the fact that you were the ones who had gotten them the uniform a week ago.

“Wh-What are you guys wearing?” Atsumu almost chokes out his words, “What happened to the jerseys that we bought that you said you were going to wear?”

Atsuhiko throws his arms out in the air, smiling widely. “We changed daddy!”

“We wanna wear your jersey daddy,” Atushiro nods his head enthusiastically, lifting his hand up to grip onto Atsumu’s shirt.

Atsuhiko wraps his arms around Atsumu’s waist, “‘cause you’re our favorite volleyball player daddy!”

The scene itself was enough for everyone to watch in awe, a few of the guests that were invited had their own phones up to capture the moment with smiles on their faces, the others were almost practically in tears themselves, and well there was also Bokuto by the side with his pouty self at the realization that neither of his nephews were wearing his jersey like he thought they would. Atsumu on the other hand, had eventually dropped down to his knees and wrapped his arms around his two boys, burying his face in between them as he let out his own tears stream down his face from the overwhelming joy that coursed through him.

Yes, this is your family.

This is your home.

You stare out the window from the kitchen of your childhood home, a smile on your face at the beautiful afternoon of your backyard full with people you adore and have missed so much. 

The party was still in full swing despite the sun about to set, the laughter from the guests and a few children present rang in the air. Happiness had engulfed your heart and honestly, you had trouble believing it yourself but here you were. 

You wouldn’t trade this for anything. 

An arm snakes around your waist from behind and you would have been startled if you hadn’t felt Atsumu’s presence a minute ago. Despite not having seen each other in years, everything about him was still familiar. Sure, there were a few things about him that you didn’t know but that didn’t mean that he still wasn’t your Atsumu that you’ve grown to love. 

“Thank you,” he whispers as he nuzzles his nose into your hair, a smile playing on his lips. 

You place your hands atop of his and lean yourself back into his warmth, your brows furrowing in confusion. “What are you thanking me for?” 

“For everything,” he lets out a sigh, causing a shiver to run down your spine from the heat radiating from his breath close to your ear, “For giving me two amazing boys and for existing yourself.” 

Pivoting your body around so that you were facing Atsumu, your hands settling on his chest as you look up at him with your lips curling up to an assuring smile, “Thank you.” 

“And what for?” Atsumu questions, matching your own smile with his own as his hands cup your face. He lowers his head slowly, nudging your nose with his own as the pads of his thumbs brush delicately against your skin. 

Heat spreads across your cheeks at his gestures, feeling shy yourself but despite that, the majority of what you felt was only comfort in being in his arms. “For loving me as much as I love you.” 

He hums in response, placing a quick kiss to your lips. “No, I probably do love you more. More than you can imagine.” 

Before you could respond, he places his lips back firmly on yours and your eyelids flutter shut as if on instinct. The hands of yours that were resting on his chest eventually found their way around his torso to pull him close. Tilting your head to the side, the kiss itself deepens as he runs his fingers through your hair. 

It just felt so natural being with him.

Before the kiss could grow more heated however, a loud yell from outside had interrupted the both of you causing you to pull away much to both of your dismay. Your heads turn towards the direction of the commotion, the bouncy castle coming into view.

Or rather, the depleting bouncy castle with Bokuto and Hinata coming out hastily in laughter. 

You shake your head at the scene, a bubble of laughter leaving your lips before turning your head back over to look at the man before you. Just when you had decided to pull back and return to your duties of being a mother, he wraps his arms back around your waist to pull you back against him. Another laugh escapes your lips as you playfully slap his chest, “What now? We have a party going on, we have to entertain our gue-” 

“Move in with me,” he interrupts, his features showing nothing but seriousness. 

You meet his sincere gaze with your own and your heart makes a leap out of joy. There was only one answer you could possibly give. 

“Yes.”

[magicrowiswritingstuff]

"Hello, beautiful" - Din Djarin x Mandalorian!reader

Summary: You had pushed Din away when he had needed you most. You had pushed him away when he had felt like he failed. But the truth was that you had failed him. (Set during Season 2 Episode 7/8) Requested by Anon: "Hi, I love your writing!! Could you do a fluff/angst oneshot with a Mandalorian reader where they see each other’s faces for the first time? Thank you!" - Thank you so much, hun! I hope you like how this turned out. I had a lot of fun writing this lil piece!  Warning: heavy angst and hurt, violence but only briefly mentioned, reader is acting like a bit of a shebs’palon (but they apologize and make up), you and Din speak Mando'a (Translations at the end)  Category: angst, fluffy ending (it ended up a lot more angsty than I anticipated, sorry!!)  Words: about 3.600 Notes: No use of (Y/N) and gender-neutral (if I missed something regarding gender please tell me and I’ll fix it) Also, kinda established relationship? At least a platonic one. Note 2: You're a Mandalorian that grew up in the same covert as Din. It won't be mentioned in this fic but you are/were as clueless as Din about other Mandalorians and their way of living.  Note 3: I think I gave myself whiplash from the title and the summary of this fic. They don't seem to match but I couldn't figure out what else to name this story, asgscgeh just bear with me. 

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"Hello, beautiful" - Din Djarin x Mando!reader

Back then when you had boarded the Razor Crest you didn't know the man flying it. You have seen him before but you didn't know him. However, you knew what he had to do and you knew you would accompany him, help him, be there for him and the little one. You never expected for all this to happen. You never expected to care so deeply for him and the kid. Maybe that was the reason why you had reacted the way you did. Maybe that was why it had hurt so much. But all that didn't excuse your words or actions. All that didn't make it any easier when the time came to let go.

Your mind was clouded ever since what happened on Tython. Whenever you closed your eyes, all you saw was Grogu in the grips of one of these dark troopers. All you saw were his big eyes staring at you when he got taken away. All you could think about was how you weren't fast enough to save him. How you failed. And you knew Din felt the same. He blamed himself, too. You knew it the moment you had taken his hand in your own. You felt it in the stiffness of his fingers that tightly curled around yours, seeking comfort, something to ground himself to. You were his pillar of strength just as much as he was yours in that moment. When you tilted your head his visor was as blank as usual, just like your own, but you knew. You saw the sadness in him. And it broke your heart even more. You stayed close to him during the flight to Nevarro, when you went to pick up Mayfeld and on the flight to Morak, too. You two gave each other comfort and strength. But that changed when Din returned from the imperial base on Morak.  "Can I talk to you?" You slightly turned your helmet to the side to glance at Din who was standing beside you, his hands closed to fists and his arms stiffly pressed to his sides. He hadn't talked, let alone looked at you since he had returned from that imperial base. You had suspected that something must have happened, something that Din didn't want to talk about. But now that he was approached you in such an uncertain und uncomfortable manner you knew that something was very wrong. You straightened up and nodded, gesturing for him to lead the way to a more private corner of the Slave I. Din didn't waste a single second and began walking into one of the small sleeping chambers that had just enough room for the two of you to stand in. The moment door closed behind you without a sound you suddenly felt the tension in the air heavily on your shoulders. However, you tried to not let it show, put on a brave face and crossed your arms before your chest. You stood completely still but behind your dark visor your eyes flickered over Din's form, trying to figure something, anything out. Even though you had been a part of the covert for all your life and could read the body language of other Mandalorians fairly easy, you still struggled with Din sometimes. He had always been a mystery to you and you had only really got to know him after you helped him escape from Nevarro with Grogu. Before that you had rarely walked into each other and when you did you always just nodded at each other in greeting, never sharing a word until you had boarded the Razor Crest that night. And even though you and Din had grown rather close during your time on his ship you never really got a hang of it, of him. You had no idea what he wanted to talk to you about, you had no idea what was wrong. When he didn't turn around to meet your hidden eyes with his own visor you grew a little anxious, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. It wasn't unlike Din to hesitate before talking, he always seemed to consider his words before speaking up. But he had never ignored you before, he had never avoided your gaze before. And that hurt more than you thought it ever could. You only knew him for a considerably short time but the thought that he was pushing you away was clenching your heart so tightly it made your breath stammer over your lips. That he was pushing you away now of all times shot a hot, blinding pain through your chest.  "What do you want to talk about?" you asked, forcing your voice to sound strong even though you had never felt so weak and helpless before. Your eyes dropped to Din's fists that shook slightly. You let your arms fall down to your sides as you took one step towards his back. Cautiously you reached out and placed one hand on his shoulder. Your touch was light, you almost didn't even touch him but he still flinched. You gulped down the hurt and carried on. "Din?" "I took it off." You blinked rapidly and furrowed your brows in confusion. "What?" you asked, your voice sounding even heavier through the modulator than usually. "I took it off" Din repeated, his tone suddenly harsh as he shook your hand off his shoulder and turned around to face you. He had turned around so fast it caught you off guard. You would have stumbled if he hadn’t placed his own hands on your shoulders, keeping you steady. Din's posture was stiff and straight, no typical head tilt, no hands on his belt with his weight shifted more on one leg. The man in front of you was a stranger.  "What, Din? What did you take off?" you asked taken aback and with your voice laced with worry. Your eyes were flickering from his helmet to his hands that were placed on your shoulders as you tried to decipher the meaning of his words. It was this moment you realized that his harsh tone wasn’t directed at you but at himself. And it was this moment you realized he wasn't angry. He was terrified. And seeing Din truly scarred right now with his body trembling… that scarred you more than you could have ever imagined. You didn't even dare to breathe anymore. What could possibly scare Din so much that his whole body was shaking? You wanted to reach out for him, wrap your arms around him and draw him in, to comfort him like you had done so many times before. You were about to take one step forward when he spoke up again.  "My helmet" Din's voice broke. "They saw." He didn't need to explain who 'they' were. You knew. You suddenly knew what he had done in that imperial base. You knew why he was ignoring you. You knew and the only thing you could do was stare at him, your visor completely blank. You couldn't even tilt your head to give him some kind of reaction, you just froze with your breath stuck in your throat. You weren't even sure what you were thinking in that moment, your mind was blank. Only when Din put his hands on the sides of your helmet like he had done so many times before, did you find your way back into reality. Your head snapped upwards, your eyes wide behind the darkness of your visor. The touch, his touch that normally felt so soothing suddenly felt restricting. Or maybe it were your thoughts that kept drawing the circle in which they were racing tighter and tighter. Maybe they were cutting off your breath.  "Please, say something." You could almost see his eyes frantically searching for yours behind the visor. His eyes. Eyes you had never seen before and always had to imagine just how he had to imagine your eyes, too. Eyes they had seen. Some imperial men had seen them… before you. Your heart clenched at that thought and you took one step back, finally able to move again. Then you sucked in a sharp breath as Din's hands fell from your helmet. Lowering your head, you shook it in disbelief and confusion. You had no idea how to feel, how to react. All your life you had been taught… you knew there were other Mandalorians, other ways but… "I… I need some air" you chocked out. You were too overwhelmed. You needed some distance to clear your thoughts, to understand what you felt. So, you pushed him away just like he had done with you.  _______________ You and Din hadn't talked since then. Not on the Slave I. Not when you had gone out with him and Boba to recruit Bo-Katan and Koska. Not even when you were fighting against Moff Gideon with Din. But your thoughts had been racing through all of that. Screaming and clawing at the walls of your mind. You knew Din was suffering. He was suffering because of you and how you had reacted. You knew were wrong and needed to fix this… And then that Jedi appeared to take Grogu with him and you froze, unable to from any words or thoughts, unable to protest. This had been Din's and your mission. Grogu needed a teacher. But all those logical reason didn't make it any easier to watch. It wasn't any easier to watch as Din took the little green bean on his arm. It didn't make it easier to watch him remove his helmet so the little one could see his face for the first time. It didn't make it easier when you saw the slight tremble wandering through Din. You didn't need to see his face to know he was fighting against his tears.  But what made it even harder was when Din sat him back down and Grogu tiptoed towards you. You immediately leaped forward and scooped him up, coming to a halt right beside Din. You cradled him in your own arms, hugging him tight as you felt the tears clouding your eyes. Grogu stretched his little hands towards your helmet just like he had done with Din. You didn't hesitate to rib it off and let it fall to the ground. It didn’t matter anymore, nothing else mattered anymore. Underneath your hair was a mess of unkempt tangles and locks, your eyes filled with tears as you looked at Grogu with them and not through the visor for the first and last time. He placed one of his hands underneath your eye, clumsily wiping away the tears. A sad smile stretched over your lips at that. He cooed softly as you hugged him tighter against you while quiet sobs shook your body.  "Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, ad'ika" you whispered so quietly even you struggled to pick it up. But maybe the heartbeat was just echoing too loudly in your ears. Either way, Grogu might not know what the words meant exactly, but when he tried to hug you back you were certain he had understood the weight in them.  But all this didn't make it easier to set him down and to let him go. _______________ You were still staring at the elevator door even when it had stayed closed for many minutes now. You still hoped they would open up, so you could see him again. You were still staring at it even when the others slowly left the room, their gazes lowered and not looking back as they were walking into the elevator to get to the ship, leaving you two alone. They walked into the same elevator in which Grogu had disappeared into. You knew that this was the best for him, but that didn't hinder your heart from shattering. You sucked in a sharp breath and closed your eyes when you felt another wave of tears forming in them. But when you felt a hand intertwine with your own they snapped open again and it took all your willpower to not look to your right, to not look at Din whose eyes were also still focused on the elevator. It took everything in you to not look at Din without his helmet on. This was the moment you realized that you could faintly make out some of his features from the corner of your eye. You could see him, parts of him, for the very first time. And it forced the tears in your eyes to spill over as you collapsed on the floor, breaking your fall with one hand whilst the other was still in Din's. He didn't let go of you, instead he slowly let himself fall beside you. So close you could feel his warmth beside you. So close it made you unable to breath.  "I'm sorry" you whispered. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" Your voice gained in volume as you wailed in pain. You had lost Grogu once more. You had pushed Din away when he had needed you most. You had pushed him away when he had felt like he failed. But the truth was that you had failed him. "I am an awful friend. I am an awful partner. I-I-" you sucked in shallow breaths, clawing at your throat with your free hand as you sat back on your legs. Then Din squeezed your hand and you froze. Your mouth opening and closing without producing a sound. He tugged your hand towards him, cupped your hand in between his own and placed it over the chest plate where his heart was beating underneath while still staring straight ahead just like you were. "Stop" you hissed. "You are supposed to hate me. Please, just push me away. I don't-"  Before you could finish your sentence Din suddenly pulled you to him. He wrapped his arms around you, one hand placed on the back of your head as he pressed you against his chest. "You're supposed to hate me!" you screamed while you clawed at his coat, burying your fingers into the worn out fabric while tears burned their path into your skin. You didn’t understand this. How could he act that way, how could he bear to hold you in his arms after how awful you had reacted, after how badly you had hurt him? How could he even stand to be in the same room with you? "Why don't you hate me?" you begged, your voice barley over a whisper now. But Din didn't answer you. He just kept you pressed against him until your body stopped shaking, until your wails and cries died down and all you could do was to exhaustedly melt into him. Your shoulders were still shaking every now and then when you sucked in a sharp breath and the tears had left behind deep paths in your skin.  "You're still a Mandalorian" you whispered after a while, your voice hoarse. "It didn't make you any less of a Mandalorian. I would have done the same. I wouldn't have hesitated and that makes how I reacted even worse. I'm sorry!"  "It's okay" Din suddenly whispered back. You tensed up at that and it took all your willpower to not free yourself from his embrace, to not push him away again, to not run away.  "No, it's not!" you barked back. "When I boarded the Razor Crest we said we would have each others back, that we would always be there for each other. I said I would always be there for you!" You pressed your eyes closed, forced the tears back.  "Hate me. Push me away, scream at me! Kriffing, just leave me behind!"  Din tightened his grip and placed his head on top of yours. You felt his chin press against you as his breath tickled over your hair. And you couldn't hold the tears back anymore.  "Please, just hate me."  "I don't" he said, his voice soft but stern. "You hurt me but I don't hate you." You let out a stifled cry and pressed your face underneath his chin and against his neck, breathing in his scent, feeling his skin against your own for the very first time.  "I'm sorry" you said, your voice breaking.  "I know" Din chuckled slightly and slowly let his hands wander to your face, cupping your cheeks, wiping away the remaining tears. "It's okay, we'll get through this." We'll get through losing Grogu. We'll get through our pain and hurt. We'll get through this together. You nodded as you sobbed, your fingers slowly relaxing until they completely let go of Dins' coat. Your arms dropped to the ground with a thud while Din drew slow circles on your cheeks, brushing back your hair every now and then until your body relaxed against him. For a while you two stayed like this, seeking the comfort of the other. Then he slightly tugged at your head, wanting to pull it back and you immediately understood his question. You tensed up. "I don't deserve to look at you" you whispered, pressing your face further into him.  "That's not your decision" Din stopped and took a deep breath.  "I want you to see. I wanted you to be the first one to see and I'm sorry that it wasn't you."  "Don't apologize" you croaked out and slightly shook your head in between his hands. "You have nothing to apologize for. I would have done the same." You felt Din nod against you, the humming sound in his chest vibrating in your own.  "I want you to see me" he began again. "But I also want to see you… if you'll let me?"  Your hands shot up to cup his cheeks just like he was cupping yours as you nodded. "Yes."  For a few moments in which your hearts were beating against each other’s ribs, no one moved. You didn't dare to be the first one to move, you didn’t dare to be the one to initiate, so you waited. Din sucked in a deep breath before he slowly pulled your head back. You felt his eyes wander over your face immediately. However, you kept your eyes lowered. "Please, look at me."  Your lips began to tremble, your eyes shut tightly. For a few seconds you just focused on how his face felt underneath your fingers. You focused on the slight stubble you could feel, the deep lines in his face formed by hardship and worry. You focused on the warmth of his skin seeping through your gloves, on the locks of hair that were tickling against the back of your hand. Then you slowly looked up. You looked up, you laid your eyes on him and your breath got stuck in your throat. You couldn't think as tears formed on the corners of your eyes once again. You got lost in the warmth of Din's deep brown eyes. You got lost in the gentleness of his smile that was tugging at the corners of his lips ever so slightly and the uncertainty of his furrowed brows. You lost yourself in him just as he was losing himself in you, in your eyes, in your own quivering lips.  "Su cuy'gar, mesh'la." You couldn't hold back the tears anymore just as you couldn't hold back the small sad smile forming on your lips. "Su cuy'gar, mesh'la" you retorted with a small, breathless laugh. For a few more heartbeats you just looked at each other, eyes soft and filled with tears, fingers wandering over the others face, exploring the scars, lines and imperfections. Your heart was hammering rapidly against your ribs, so much that you were able to feel it thumbing in your throat. Then Din slowly pulled you forward until your foreheads were firmly pressed against one another. You felt his breath tickle over your face and it made shivers run down your spine. The tears in Din's eyes finally spilled over as he let his hands wander to your hair, inching to pull you even closer. A soft laugh left his lips when you wiped away his tears with your thumbs. It made your heart swell and clench at the same time.  "Ni ceta" you whispered. "Ni ceta. Ni ce-"  "K'uur, ner sarad" Din interrupted you as he stroked through your hair. You closed your eyes and breathed in his soothing scent, concentrated on his heart beating against your ribs, his breath ghosting over your lips. He was so close you could almost feel the smile on his lips. Your eyes shot opened, locking onto his when you felt his thumb brush over the top of your lip, tracing your mouth. His eyes were slightly hooded, filled with the impulse to lean forward. But he didn't. Instead he raised his brows slightly, questioningly, asking you. And all you could do was wordlessly nod. Din closed the small gap between the two of you in an instant, placing his lips over yours, so lightly it felt like only a gust of wind, like a cool breeze on a hot summer day. You melted into him, pulling him closer, pressing into him. You kissed him back, your lips dancing against his just as cautiously. And then you cried once more, sobbing against his lips, losing yourself in the sensation. You felt his pain in that kiss, his worries and fears. You felt the loss that was clawing at him, breaking him slowly piece by piece. And that made you kiss back harder, more desperately. You put all your own sorrow into that kiss but also all your love.  When you two slowly pulled away, you both stared breathlessly at each other. No one spoke up but you didn't have to, to understand the other. You could see everything you needed to know in Din's eyes for the very first time. You would get through this. You would work through this. You would overcome the pain and hurt.  _________________________________  

Translations:

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum - I love you Ad'ika - little one, son Su cuy'gar - Hello Mesh'la - beautiful Ni ceta - sorry, lit: I kneel (grovelling apology)  K'uur – Hush Ner sarad – my flower

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Taglists:

Permanent Simps: @buckysalefty

Din Djarin Simps: @theflightytemptressadventure​ / @sarahjkl82-blog / @remmysbounty / @undeniableadrenaline / @kassidydjarin / @freeshavocadoooo / @dindaddy / @wonderless-screwup / @helena-way07 / @n0ffitar / @24-blackbirds

If you want to be added/removed/switched to another taglist at any point just let me know! Crossed out names I was unable to tag for some reason. Also, I think some of you changed their usernames? Sooo, I hope I managed to tag you correctly...

[lovehelpmewrite]

Ella’s Masterlist

If you’d like to send me a request: my ask box is open, the list of fandoms that I write for is below, and theres a link to a list of prompts in my bio if you aren't sure what to request :)

Also, fair warning: the higher you look in each category, the older and crappier my fics get; just an FYI

Supernatural

I Need You To Pull Over! Dean x reader [crack, angst, fluff]

“Are You French?” Dean x reader [crack, humor]

Green Dean x reader [angst]

The People Who Love You [Part 1] [Part 2] Sam x Reader [super angst, abuse, very slight fluff]

“What do you mean?” Cas x reader [fluff, slight smut]

“Damn walls, always gettin’ me when ‘m drunk!” Sam x reader / Destiel [fluff]

“Dean, give me a sec, will you?” John x reader [fluff, implied smut]

Skating and Hunting Are Not The Same Thing Sam x Reader [fluff, a tiny bit hurt/comfort in a physical sense]

Marvel

“A friend Steve; you have one of those right? Big guy? Metal arm?” Steve x reader [crack, fluff, kinda smut]

I’m Dyeing No pairing [crack, humor]

Of Course {on hiatus} Peter Parker x reader *Series Masterlist*

Anytime, Sarge Bucky x reader [fluff]

Dark Mornings Bucky x reader [angst, fluff]

Records, Scissors, and Trust Loki x reader [fluff, are you surprised?]

Warren Worthington

Telling Warren you’re pregnant [fluff]

Your first kiss with Warren [major fluff]

Coming out at bisexual to Warren [fluff]

Little Blue Paper [fluff]

Coming out as Nonbinary/gender-non-conforming to Warren [fluff, a lil’ angsty but not much]

Guardian Angel [fluff, angst if you squint and turn your head]

Helping take care of Warren and his wings [fluff, minor angst]

Supermarket Flowers [major angst]

Sons of Anarchy

Baby, It's a Deal. Juice x reader [fluff, smut]

Saying I Love You to Juice for the first time. Juice x reader [fluff, implied smut]

Queen/BoRhap

Making Breakfast for Queen Brian x reader [major fluff, briefly hinted at smut]

Roger Finding Out You Wear Contacts Roger x reader [fluff]

Pity Boyfriend Gwilym x reader [fluff, minor angst]

Writer’s Block Gwilym x reader [fluff]

“Is That My Shirt?” Roger x reader [fluff]

Sleep Addled Hands Joe x reader [major fluff, briefly mentioned intimacy?]

Dreaming Of A Good Boy Roger x reader [smut, a tiny bit of fluff]

Octopus’s Garden Gwil x reader [fluff]

Risky unprotected sex Gwil x reader [hella smut]

Joe taking care of you on your period Joe x reader [hella fluff]

All You Have To Do Is Fall In Love Borhap Cast x OFCs *Series Masterlist*

Gwil’s Storyline Masterlist for this series*

Wouldn’t Trade it Brian May x reader [very fluffy, smut]

Priorities Brian May x reader [fluff]

Mellow Roger Taylor x reader [Valentine's Day fluff]

Miscellaneous 

Pat getting a bad call during a game Pat Murray x reader [fluff, kinda crack]

Pat coming home angry after a loss Pat Murray x reader [smut, a little bit of fluff at the end]

Telling Pat you’re pregnant Pat Murray x reader [fluff to the max]

A Girl Like Mine Pat Murray x reader [major smut, a bit of fluff, and a bonus ending]

Just Borrowing Pat Murray x reader [implied smut]

You and Pat miscarry Pat Murray x reader [heavy angst]

Bingos / Challenges / Mixed

Marvel Fluff Bingo

366 Days of Rec

Fandoms I write for:

*There may be fics on the masterlist for fandoms that I at one point felt comfortable writing for but I may not write for them anymore. There also might be characters that I write for that I don’t have on here, so feel free to ask if you’re unsure on anything :)

Marvel: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Peter Parker, Loki Laufeyson, Thor Odinson, Erik Lenshurr, Warren Worthington III

Supernatural: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel, John Winchester

Queen/Bo Rhap: Brian May, Roger Taylor, Gwillym Lee, Ben Hardy, Joe Mazzello

[aomineavenue]

Homesick (Miya Atsumu x f!Reader) | 002. a mother’s nightmare

Summary: Six years ago, L/N Y/N wouldn’t exactly say that she loves her life. It had always been problematic but her best friend, Miya Atsumu, since she was eight when she moved to Hyōgo, has always been there for her, and she wouldn’t change it for the world. However, things would always fall apart for her ever since, so she should have expected of such. Running away from her problems seemed like the easiest route to take at the time, so what happens when the past comes barging back into her life demanding answers? Will she be able to confront her demons?

Pairings: Miya Atsumu x f!Reader

Updates: irregular.

Genre: Angst, ANGST I LOVE ANGST, a lil bit of fluff here and there.

Warnings: Language, etc. (Will be mentioned once posted because I don’t want spoilers huehue)

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters except for the reader and my ideas. I do not claim any images used for content in this fic, everything goes out to their respective creators unless it is mentioned that it is mine.

Status: ongoing. | series masterlist

↩ the unexpected | a mother’s nightmare | no other choice  ↪

However, as the door swung open, he hadn't expected the person standing before him. His eyes widen slightly as he feels his shoulders grow tense at the abrupt appearance. "What are you doing here in Kanagawa?"

"Aw," the person before him chuckles, a soft grin playing on his lips as he steps back to pull the door wider, "I miss you too, brother."

Osamu rolls his eyes as he steps inside, "No, seriously. What are you doing here?"

"I can't believe you're here," 

You raise an eyebrow as you took a seat across from him, the soft chatter and calming music in the cafe flowed through the atmosphere, "Well, you said you wanted to catch up."

"Well, yeah..." He trails off sheepishly, "I just really hadn't expected it. Our last meeting only made it seem you were avoiding such conversation."

"You're right. I was, I kind of still am." You answer truthfully, "You have my friend to thank. Something about facing my demons one by one. It has been six years." 

He nods, a small smile on his lips as he spoke. "I suppose I should thank your friend then. Why don't we order something before anything else?"

Osamu stares sadly at the recent text you had sent to him, declining his offer to meet up once again, claiming that you were busy throughout the following week. He didn't want to doubt or push you, it didn't seem like you were pushing him away or anything either, but he still wanted to spend time with you. Only because the last time the two of you had met to catch up with each other, something was bothering him. He didn't know what, but the conversation the two of you shared in the cafe seemed as if you were being cautious with the information you shared. He couldn't blame you. It was going to take awhile before you could open up to him.

He enters the apartment complex that he was directed to by the address given to him, not bothering to scan his surroundings. He didn't know why he was here in the first place. Well, it wasn't as if he had anything better to do in the meantime anyway with his shop still under construction. He had officially made the decision to open his business up in the heart of Kanagawa just weeks ago, he wasn't going to admit it to anyone, but his encounter with you had prompted such a decision. Hence, he had been quite busy himself.

Stepping out of the elevator, he walks down the path towards his destination, stopping at a door with a golden plate with the numbers '210' engraved on it simply, nailed to its wooden structure. He brings a hand up and presses his knuckles against the wooden door before knocking on it gently at least three times to signal the owner of his arrival.

However, as the door swung open, he hadn't expected the person standing before him. His eyes widen slightly as he feels his shoulders grow tense at the abrupt appearance. "What are you doing here in Kanagawa?" 

"Aw," the person before him chuckles, a soft grin playing on his lips as he steps back to pull the door wider, "I miss you too, brother."

Osamu rolls his eyes as he steps inside, "No, seriously. What are you doing here?" 

Atsumu closes the door behind him before following his brother into the vast apartment, Bokuto coming into their line of sight who was sprawled comfortably on one of the couches in the living room, eyes focused on the show being projected from the flat screen television across the room, "We're using the Sports Complex here for our training the next couple of months, I figured it would be better for me to stay here instead of going back and forth between Hyōgo and here, plus coach's apartment is closer to the complex anyway." 

"And you didn't bother to share this information before you invited me over?" Osamu questions Bokuto directly who waves him off with a laugh as he says, "He said he wanted it to be a surprise." 

Osamu lets out a grunt of displeasure at Bokuto's response before plopping himself down next to him, his brows arched in curiosity as he looks around, "And what about the squirt and Sakusa? Will they be staying here with you guys? This place looks pretty big."

"Shoyo's coming over tomorrow," Bokuto shrugs his shoulders, picking up a piece of chip with his fingers from the bag of potato chips in his grasp, "Oomi on the other hand refuses to stay with us because of Atsumu's ‘unhygienic habits’, so he had decided to book a hotel room a few blocks from here." 

Atsumu huffs, running his fingers through his hair as he juts his lower lip into a pout, "I'm clean!" 

"Sakusa probably detest the fact you leave your dirty clothes everywhere," Osamu lets out a laugh, "So how've you been, Bo? I know you've been here the last couple of weeks."

Atsumu huffs, "I'm pretty upset you hadn't met with Bo when I told you, we would have met sooner." 

"I've been busy," Osamu shrugs before he snaps his full attention on his brother at the realization of what his twin was implying, "Wait, you've been here since then?"

"Yeah I have," Atsumu snorts, "Been staying over here with Bokuto, doing some extra training. He actually introduced me to these amazing kids! Reminds me of us, 'Samu when we were younger."

His brother tilts his head to the side, "Kids? You? That's cool, I guess. How do you guys have time to train some little kids while you have your own training?" 

Bokuto nods, "I mean it can be like extra training. I wouldn't want to disappoint them, really. Apparently, I'm the Great Uncle Bo who's the best in volleyball."

Atsumu watches his teammate plaster on a little grin and he couldn't help but let his own smile form at his friend's enthusiasm. "Well, it's only because you bribe them with food. Little Hiro is slowly warming up to me, just you wait, he'll adore me more." He teases.

Bokuto only rolls his eyes at him before glancing over to the wall clock nailed above the television, his eyes widening before scampering around the apartment to grab the things he needed, silently beating himself up for forgetting as the other two watched with amused curiosity. "I'll see you guys later!" 

The twins could only watch their friend move frantically around the room, "Why are you in such a hurry?" 

"I forgot I'm picking up the kids today for training." He huffs, a soft grumble leaving his lips after, "I'll see you guys later." 

"Oi! I should join you picking them up then! Why would Shizuma even ask you?" Atsumu protests, stalking after Bokuto, "This isn't fair. You just want to continue being the favorite uncle." 

Before Atsumu could tackle Bokuto to the ground to stop him, he slams the front door shut right in Atsumu's face. Osamu chuckles at the sight, "Who would have thought you would like kids? What's so important that you have to get those kids to like you anyway?" 

Atsumu walks back into the living room with a pout, "They told me Bo was cooler! It isn't fair, I've been so much cooler to them than he has." 

"Seriously, are my ears deceiving me or are you implying that these kids were enough to crush your pride?" Osamu teases, a small grin playing on his lips. "But really, tell me the truth. I know you. Why are you staying in Kanagawa?" He watches Atsumu shrug, keeping his gaze away from his, "Ah, let me guess? Yumi then? You're avoiding her?" 

Atsumu lets out a groan, "Lately she's been just so clingy and suffocating. It's not like we made things official or anything. I told her myself that I wasn't interested in that kind of relationship."

"I told you not to get involved with her," he chastised, "A few of my friends said she was toxic and yet what did you do?" 

Atsumu can only scoff, "Whatever, she'll go away eventually."

The two brothers continued to converse with each other as if they haven't seen the other in months when it had only been a few weeks since Osamu ventured to Kanagawa for his business scouting purposes. Eventually, Atsumu claimed it was probably time for him to head over to the Sports Complex since Bokuto was probably on the way from picking up the kids he shared to Osamu that he had grown fond of. 

Osamu watches his brother head towards the front door with his gym bag, a million thoughts swimming through his head. You. Should he come clean to Atsumu about reconnecting with you? 

He wasn't dumb, he knew how his brother had come to the conclusion of his true feelings for you ever since you decided to disappear, not that his brother would admit it to anyone, he did know his brother better, probably knew of it before his idiot brother came to realize. He knew what his brother felt since you disappeared. Anger. Regret. He knows that once you had disappeared that his brother had been beating himself up but at the same time he had learned to resent you for leaving him behind, not that Osamu would tell his brother off that if he were to be angry with anyone, it should be at himself for being so blind to your feelings for him. He didn't want to pour more salt to freshly exposed wounds at the time.

Despite you walking out on his brother had caused a drastic change in how Atsumu lived his life, he knows that somehow, deep down, Atsumu will always hold you dear to his heart, not that he would also admit to such, only spewing his distaste for you ever since you had left. He knew otherwise. Of course, a part of him wants to come clean to his brother, but a part of him also wanted to earn your trust first. He remembers how as much as the two of you shared memories created the past six years, you had avoided any formed conversation regarding his twin brother. He was torn.

"Hey 'Tsumu," Osamu calls out just as his brother was about to leave the apartment. Atsumu glances over his shoulders to look at his brother in curiosity. Osamu sighs with a shake of his head, "Ah..."

The last two weeks felt emotional, yet weird for you. The twins started their training with their new favorite Uncle Bokuto, as they so put it much to Asuma and Reiji's dismay. You, as much as the rest of your friends, including Bokuto, were just as shocked when the twins had started calling him 'the great Uncle Bo', of course, you were quick to protest to the twins that Bokuto probably didn't want them to call him such, but with a grinning Bokuto, he quickly claims he didn't mind, repeating the name the twins call him as if it were a term of endearment. You had questioned the twins what had brought on the idea of calling Bokuto their 'great Uncle Bo' and Hiro simply responded with a "because Uncles are cool and he's the coolest so far!". Needless to say, since then, a competition for the Best Uncle title between Uncles had commenced.

The past two weeks since their training had started, the twins seemed to wake up earlier than usual, it was as if they had more energy than they usually had, often barging into your room to wake you up and pestered you to make breakfast before their Uncle Shizuma, who had volunteered to join their training to watch over them, picks them up half an hour early for their training with Uncle Bo and his friend who Bokuto promises to introduce once everyone's schedules were flexible.

However, as the holiday season for Galaxy Standard was fast approaching its end, you were far too busy to accompany their training sessions or even agree to a get together with any of the boys. Luckily, you had an assistant manager to help you around. It was finally a brand new season for the boys to go on tour, and setting up everything was a handful. You barely had any time for yourself.

Before your busy schedule had taken over your life, you were able to reconnect with Osamu at least once like Asuma had suggested. It was a brief meeting, but you enjoyed yourself nevertheless. Of course, you still refused to come clean over your little secret, you just figured it wasn't the right time nor was it something that should be discussed since it was the first time reconnecting with Osamu. Somehow, it wasn't the time to do so with your busy schedule, you were exhausted enough taking care of little pranksters that you call sons, that the drama that might ensue from a bomb confession like that would probably be the cause of your downfall. Dramatic as it sounds, you couldn't afford being mentally exhausted during the hectic upcoming weeks. 

You were grateful that Osamu kept his distance respectfully, not pestering you to be in his company, no matter how eager he had seemed. The two of you texted back and forth, him wanting to set up another arrangement to meet, while you—declining, well you were busy, it wasn't as if you were avoiding him, it was the truth. 

"Uncle Shizuma is taking too long!" Atsuhiko whines from the living room, staring at the front door with a pout, his arms folded across his chest, "Uncle Bo is waiting for us!" 

You couldn't help but let out a chuckle not being used to the twins addressing Bokuto, whom they had just met recently, as their Uncle, as you placed your work tablet on the coffee table, plopping yourself down on the couch that Atsuhiro occupied reading his little storybook about dinosaurs. Your arms instantly wrap around the little boy's body, pulling him closer to you. You nuzzle your nose into the crook of his neck, receiving a giggle from his lips as he protests, trying to pry himself out of your grasp. "What? You don't like mommy's cuddles anymore? Are you a big boy now?" 

"No mommy," he shakes his head as he puts the storybook away, only to wrap his short arms around your neck to hug you closer, "I love mommy's cuddles even when I get big. Just tickles." 

The doorbell echoes throughout the room and before you could muster any form of response, Atsuhiko jumps from the couch claiming that he'll answer it. You could only protest with a yell, extracting your arms away from Atsuhiro to follow him in case it was a stranger. 

"Atsuhik—" 

"Uncle Bo! You're here!"

You halt in your footsteps as you blink a couple of times, wondering if you were hallucinating. Why was he here? How did he even know where you lived? 

"Uncle Bo!" Atsuhiro cries out, jumping out of his seat and rushing over after slinging one of the straps of his backpack on his shoulder, his other hand gripping onto his brother's own backpack to hand it over. You were confused at Bokuto's presence, however, your boys showed no sign of surprise but more on the side of excitement, practically giddy that their Uncle Bo had picked them up for training this time. 

Bokuto seemed to sense your confusion and gave you a sheepish smile, "I'm assuming Shizuma didn't inform you. Ah—anyway, he had plans today and said I should pick up the boys instead and take them to training, so he gave me your address. I'm sorry, it didn't cross my mind to contact you first. Is this okay? If not, we can cance—" 

You listen as the man rambles on, the boys waiting (Atsuhiko in particular) impatiently by the door, tugging on Bokuto's hands to grab the man's attention. You cut Bokuto's rambling with a wave of your hand, shooting him an appreciative smile, "No, Bo. It's okay. I'm sure the boys would be upset if you had to cancel training. I trust you enough," you trail off before teasing him with a grin, "You are after all, the great Uncle Bo." 

Your teasing sends warmth to the tips of his ears but he couldn't help but let his mouth widen up to a smile, "I suppose I am. I'll bring them back in one piece, promise." 

"You better!" You let out a laugh, ruffling the hair of your twin boys before bending down to press kisses on their respective foreheads, "Be good to your Uncle Bo, okay? Don't be too hard on him. Have fun!"

They nod their heads and left without another word, you watch them walk away with a smile on your face as they begin chattering with their, just as energetic, Uncle Bo. A part of you was bothered at the fact that your two boys didn't even bother to look back like they used to but, however, that quickly faded when the twins turned around once they neared the apartment complex's elevator, waving at you simultaneously, each yelling out how they will miss you and it instantly warms your heart. They were indeed growing up.

While you returned inside your apartment to continue with preparations for Galaxy Standard's upcoming tour, the trio left the apartment complex and got in Bokuto's car, the man making sure to secure the twins comfortably in the backseat. Hiko whined, practically begging Bokuto to let him sit in front like the big boy that he was, unfortunately, his pleas had fallen on deaf ears as Bokuto drove off. 

As the trio traveled, there wasn't any dull moment within the confinements of the four wheeled vehicle, not even a moment of silence with the twins rambling on about their favorite things to do and adventures they went on, while Bokuto, equally excited to share his own stories.

"Hey Uncle Bo?" Hiko calls out, stopping Bokuto from his own rambling about how he was during his own childhood years. He hums in response as he briefly glances at the rear-view mirror to acknowledge the little boy. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

Bokuto eyes widens at the question, spluttering incoherent sentences that made the twins look at him weirdly. He grips onto the steering wheel as he lets out an awkward chuckle, "Why are you asking?"

Hiro shakes his head at his brother, playfully smacking him on the head which causes Hiko to flinch and yelp out, rubbing his head with his palm to soothe the brief pain. "I just wanna know if Uncle Bo has a girlfriend!"

The man chuckles, keeping his eyes on the road as his grip on the steering wheel loosens up a bit, "Nah, no girl."

"Oh good," Hiko starts, a small mischievous smile forming on his lips, "Will you date our mommy then? She needs a boyfriend, you know."

Once again, Bokuto returns to his sputtering state while Hiro lets out a dramatic sigh, crossing his arms against his chest as he gives his twin a look. "I'm telling mommy." 

"You want me to da—date your m—mom?" Bokuto stutters, bewildered. 

Hiko ignores his brother's glares and shrugs his shoulders, "It was Uncle Rei's idea! Mommy was yelling at him the other day and after mommy pinched Uncle Rei's ear, I heard him grumble how mommy needs to ‘loosen up’ and get a boyfriend!"

Bokuto lets out a laugh in amusement, "Well, why not ask your Uncle Rei to date your mom then? Or Uncle Shizuma."

"Uncle Shizuma has a girlfriend," Hiro claims.

Hiko adds, "Uncle Rei said mommy might end up killing him."

Bokuto chuckles, "then, why me?"

Hiko looks at him weirdly, "What do you mean? You're cool!"

"Do you not want mommy as your girlfriend?" Hiro asks, folding his arms across his chest as if to judge his supposed favorite Uncle, the little boy waiting for the correct answer or else he would have to decide that he would no longer call this man his favorite uncle like he had claimed, "She's very pretty. Do you not think she's pretty?"

"I—"

Hiko interrupts Bokuto with a loud huff, "You better think mommy's pretty or else I'm telling Uncle Asuma on you!"

Bokuto lets out a sigh, feeling warmth spread in his cheeks. He didn't know why, despite them being kids, the conversation itself was embarrassing enough, he wonders if the boys would end up telling you the conversation, or worse, Asuma or Reiji, the teasing would be endless. However, not wanting to upset them both, who are looking extremely impatient and upset waiting, he answers, "Yes, yes. Your mother is really pretty."

Hiko nods happily before looking at his brother with a wide smile. Hiro, satisfied with his answer for the time being, tilts his head as he asks, "So will you date her?"

“Nice receive, Hiko!” Bokuto praises with a huge grin while Hiko throws his fists in the air at his achievement, he looks over to the side with a wide smile, “Hiro! ‘Sumsum! Did you see that?” 

Hiro nods his head in response, giving his brother a thumbs up while the man next to Hiro lets out a happy cheer, “Way to go, Hiko! You’re going to be better than your Uncle Bo in no time, even better than me, your Uncle Atsumu.” 

The little boy that stood next to the bleached blonde man, tilts his head back to look up at him with a raised eyebrow, “You’re not our uncle.” 

Bokuto lets out a laugh, Hiko on the other hand, not really understanding what was so funny, decided to mimic his actions anyway. Apparently, acting like Bokuto would make him look as cool. On the other side of the court, Atsumu juts out his lower lip into a pout at being teased, by a kid no less, “Hey, a guy can dream okay. You two will soon call me Uncle too, and you’ll understand that I’m way better than Bo here.” 

“I can’t believe you’re jealous, ‘Tsumu.” Bokuto teases with a grin, tossing the volleyball over to Hiko who receives the ball with ease due to weeks of practice. “You did it again, Hiko! I’m so happy! I can’t wait to tell your uncles and your mom the progress the two of you made.” 

“I’m not jealous,” Atsumu retorts, scrunching up his features in annoyance, “I just can’t believe these kids think you’re better than me when I’m clearly superior.” 

“But Uncle Bo is so cool!” Atsuhiko exclaims defensively, pointing at Atsumu accusingly with his index finger as if to scold the man for disrespecting his favorite Uncle Bo. He adds, “He’s going to date our mommy, you know.” 

Atsumu wiggles his eyebrows at his friend, “Oh?” 

“What? It—It’s not like that!” 

Hiko stomps his feet and drops the volleyball in his grasp, sending a glare at Bokuto. “Why not?” Bokuto just lets out a nervous laugh, receiving a huff from Hiko who then turns his attention over to Atsumu, “Well, do you have a girlfriend?” 

Before Atsumu can respond, Hiro throws his hands in the air and shakes his head at his brother. “You can’t just ask everyone if they have a girlfriend or not so they can date mommy.” 

Sensing the twins about to start arguing, Bokuto rests his hands on Atsuhiko’s shoulders to avert his attention while Atsumu did the same with Atsuhiro. “Let’s go back to practice, okay?” 

“Hey ‘Sumsum?” Hiro calls out after moving away from the man’s grip on his shoulders to grab a volleyball, “Can you teach me how to serve properly?” 

Atsumu nods, walking to the edge of the court with Hiro trailing behind him, picking up an extra volleyball along the way, “Come on then.” 

However before the two of them could walk further to their destination, Atsuhiro tugs on Atsumu’s jersey weakly, a frown etching on his features. He mumbles underneath his breath, his grip on the volleyball weakening, “’Sumsum...I don’t feel so good.” 

Before Atsumu can comprehend what was happening, he catches a glimpse of Atsuhiro collapsing onto the floor behind him. 

“Hiro!”