#timeskip bokuto x reader

[capricornlevi]

bokuto x reader // sfw, gratuitous fluff, established relationship // wc 1.6k

planning birthdays is just one of bo's many talents <3

an: this is a little birthday present for my favourite bo stan in the entire world @brainrot329 ! she is a ray of sunshine and one of the best people i know and it is an honour to write a bo fic dedicated to this wonderful human !!!

you had never figured bokuto for much of a chef. you've been together for four years, lived together for two, and so you feel you know him pretty well by now -- the man has multitudes of talents, but preparing food is not one of them.

he has no trouble with eating, obviously, since pretty much every team barbeque ends with him being physically dragged away by a teammate or long-suffering coach, begging for someone else to be allowed their pick of the steaks.

but his appreciation for food does not extend to cooking or baking, shopping for ingredients or meal planning. his lack of culinary proficiency is not from any form of uselessness or incompetence -- he's good at pretty much anything he turns his hand to, plus the msby nutrition team supplies most of his meals anyway -- he just doesn't have much of an interest. which is more than fair; nobody can be expected to be good at everything.

but this is also why you find it to be very shocking that today, your birthday, he has offered to prepare you a four-course meal to mark the special occasion.

he had informed you of his plan this morning over pancakes at your favourite diner while you were mid-sip of coffee. as you smiled and expressed gratitude, you had to put in a copious amount of effort to prevent your jaw from dropping open and accidentally spitting coffee everywhere.

again, it's not that he's incapable of achieving this task. he’d likely be very capable should he puts his mind to it, but it's just ... this is his first time cooking. you don't attempt the tour de france before learning how to ride a bike, and you can't imagine that a four-course meal (with accompanying wines, he informs you) is the easiest introduction to the culinary arts.

but he seems certain, and the last thing you want to do is discourage this newfound enthusiasm.

the rest of the day was spent out with friends and family as bo headed home to get everything ready. he didn't give many hints as to what the rest of the evening would entail, but he did say that he knew you'd love it.

(and you will; regardless of the final product, you can see how much effort he's put in. you just hope you won't arrive home to the scent of singed hair and an eyebrow-less bokuto standing forlorn in the kitchen.)

when your college friends took you out for cocktails in the early hours of the evening, you stuck to just two margaritas so as not to take away from the rest of the night. they dropped you back home with gifts in hand and plans to meet up again next week to get your nails done – a strange suggestion since you haven’t gone to the salon as a group in years, but you wave it off. 

now, standing at your doorstep, you take a deep breath before twisting the handle and letting yourself in.

the place smells ... nice. really nice. it's a medley of scents from multiple dishes but they all come together to paint a very positive picture; hints of citrus, the buttery aroma of your favourite pasta sauce, something sweet you vaguely recognise as being your grandmother's french vanilla cake recipe.

suddenly overcome with a sense of awe and burning anticipation, you make a beeline for the kitchen.

you find everything in it to be clean, perfectly presented, except for bokuto himself. he stands by the countertop, spatula in hand, covered with a light dusting of flour and with a scorch mark on his light-blue shirt.

"never promised it'd go completely without a hitch, did i?" he grins, expression as close to bashful as you've seen it. setting down the utensils and dusting himself off with a kitchen towel, he closes the distance to take your hand, guiding you to your seat at the table. with a professional flourish he pours you a glass of sparkling wine, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head once you've sat down.

"you enjoy that while i go change," he mumbles against your hair, "and i’ll also make sure I'm not still smouldering."

you laugh as he walks away, heart swelling in your chest as you survey the space around you.

he's bought a bouquet of your favourite flowers from that little old florist who lives three doors down from your apartment, the one whose displays you always admire when you head out to work in the mornings. he has your favourite album playing on vinyl, the low reverberations of the music filling the candle-lit kitchen.

distantly, you wonder if bo's fire incident came from the cooking or the decoration.

but before you have much time to consider, he's arrived back in the kitchen with a fresh shirt and almost-tamed hair, paired with that signature bo smile that lights up all of his features.

"ready for course number one?" he exclaims, clapping his hands together as he heads over to the counter space. once you voice your assent he produces two dishes as if from nowhere, heading over to the table and setting yours down in front of you.

you find yourself looking down at a perfectly presented salad, crisp leaves and a citrus dressing that reminds you exactly of the one you had --

"on our first date!" you burst out before even taking a bite. "this is the salad from that bistro by college!"

the bistro where he had taken you after finally mustering up the courage to ask, waiting until after you both had graduated to make his move. you're still not sure why he was so anxious since your class had no qualms about intra-departmental fraternisation, but you're just glad he went for it eventually.

he nods, clearly relieved you picked up on the connection.

the salad is wonderful, a light and refreshing starter for the evening, and you inform him as much.

your response clearly encourages him. he gets up again to start heating the next dish, pouring you a glass of wine beforehand for you to nurse while he gets things ready.

this time, he presents you with a bowl of soup. the same type of soup ...

"that you made for me that time i got the flu!" he informs you this time, voice achingly fond as he watches for your reaction. "and no word of a lie -- it cured me."

his earnestness draws another laugh from you, the soothing smell of herbs and vegetables bringing you back to that afternoon.

you had never seen bo so sick before and you haven't seen it since. with the combination of his healthy approach to life and sheer stubbornness to remain top of his game, he ends up avoiding most illnesses, and so when he called his coach to inform him he wouldn't be making 8am practice, you knew things were serious.

he ran a temperature, cheeks flushing an adorable shade of pink that you would have appreciated more were he not suffering, and had started shivering by noon.

"you need to keep your strength up," you had whispered softly to him, setting a glass of water down at his bedside and perching yourself on the edge, watching as he slowly started eating the soup. it was difficult with a sore throat but he managed to polish the whole thing off.

that soup was the only thing he could stomach for forty-eight hours, eating it for every meal until his shivering subsided and his muscles stopped aching.

it's one of the few dishes he knew how to prepare before tonight, since he insists on making it with you whenever either one of you starts to show any signs of impending sniffles.

once the soup has been finished and cleared away, the third course is presented with another glass of wine and near-giddy smile from bo. just as you had guessed from the hallway, he serves up your favourite pasta dish, the recipe having been scribbled down on a napkin after the chef from the aforementioned first-date bistro was kind enough to let you have it. 

bo managed to replicate it perfectly, albeit not without slightly singeing the accompanying garlic bread (explaining the scorch mark on his shirt).

as you take your first bite, you realise that he was right earlier when he promised that you'd love this.

it wasn't that the food was michelin quality (though it was undoubtedly delicious, especially for a first-timer) -- it was the thought that went into every dish, every ingredient, every element. the effort that went into telling a story with each course.

you've never felt as loved as you do in this moment.

that is, until he brings out dessert in the form of your grandmother's french vanilla cake. it’s been frosted to the best of bokuto's ability, with 'happy birthday my love!' edged in pink font and surrounded by flickering candles.

there's also a design under the words. a little shape, something you can't see without squinting.

he carries it over to you proudly, though with a slight tremble in his hands you can't quite understand ...

after blowing out the candles, you lean in to examine the cake closer.

it takes a few seconds for it to land, to determine what bo attempted to draw in icing format, but once it hits you ...

"is that a ring?"

your heart pounds in your chest, each word leaving your lips in a flurry as you try to gauge whether or not your exhilaration is merited.

and in lieu of an answer, bo sets the cake on the table before getting down on one knee, producing a velvet-bound ring box from the pocket of his new shirt.

[4unnyr0se]

Could I ask for Akaashi, Osamu, Kenma, and Bokuto + them giving oral?

❥ til your teeth rot! | akaashi, osamu, kenma, bokuto

warnings: timeskip! characters, fem! reader, cunnilingus (duh), praise, degrading, overstimulation, face sitting, semi-public sex, osamu's accent, kenma is v lazy, fingering

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 1.8k

a/n: i wrote this when i was having tummy issues so i'm sorry if its awful

got a request? my ask are open!

❥ Keiji Akaashi | Slow and steady

Akaashi eats your pussy like it’s made of glass like it could break at any moment. Every flick of his tongue, every sucking motion on your clit is calculated based on your previous reaction. Did you mewl louder when he harshly sucked on your sensitive bud? He’ll apply more pressure next time, hopefully earning another one of your adorable moans. 

Just because he was calculated to give pleasure does not mean he was inexperienced or selfish. Absolutely not. He could never dream of denying you anything you so plainly desired. All you had to was flash him those beautiful, sparking eyes of yours, and you would be on your back, legs spread, and moaning like an amateur pornstar while Akaashi made you cum for the second time that day.

He never rushes you through your orgasm, he doesn’t think that being intimate with you is some kind of game. It’s a puzzle that he simply wants to solve. His tongue is achingly slow against your folds, making the most precious moments between the two of you last longer. He is savoring each bit of your sweet nectar, and he fucking loves it. 

K-Keiji!” you sobbed, your hands flying to his neat mess of dark curls, desperate for purchase. Your legs were wrapped around his shoulders, just in case he would try to flee. Akaashi fucking loved it when you trapped him between your legs, it made him feel like the two of you were the last people on earth. “Gonna cum!”

Akaashi smiled against your folds, his tongue pausing momentarily. “I know, pretty girl. Wanna fall apart on my tongue again? I love it when you do that.” he praised, diving back to make out with your core. His tongue slipped past your entrance, the tip of the wet muscle gliding in and out with ease. His soft hands squeezed the inside of your thighs, rolling the supple and soft flesh between his fingers. 

Your head was rested on the pillow beneath you, hair growing knotted and messy whilst your thighs trembled in Akaashi’s grasp. His nose rubbed against your clit so deliciously, the additional stimulation pushing you over the edge. Your orgasm washed over you as you cried in pleasure, his name leaving your lips over and over again. Akaashi purred at the sensation of your release coating his mouth and tongue, pulling away once your high had subsided.

“Amazing job, pretty girl. You did so well for me.” he praised, wiping your slick from his chin. He leaned down to give you a quick peck on the lips, lingering just long enough for you to taste your own release. “See how delicious you are, darling? So unbelievably perfect for me.”

❥ Osamu Miya | No time to lose

Osamu eats your pussy like he has somewhere to be at all times like he’s in a hurry. Being the owner of a popular rice ball spot keeps him occupied most of the time (as well as dealing with his pain-in-the-ass older brother), so when he finds a free moment to be intimate with you, he makes sure he makes himself efficient. 

Even though Osamu is the more relaxed and lazy twin, he’s never lazy in the bedroom. His usually tired and ‘over this’ attitude would melt away the second you two shared a longing kiss, his body being taken over by some kind of insatiable desire. He’s driven by his motivation to make you scream his name for the shop next to him to hear. His tongue lashes at your pussy like a man starving in the middle of a desert. 

If there’s a rare lull in customers entering and exiting his onigiri shop, he’ll change the ‘open’ sign to a ‘come back later’ sign and text you to be in the back of his shop ASAP. And, of course, you’re there in less than ten minutes, your skirt flipped up and your hands supporting your weight on the steel countertop as his tongue ravishes your cunt, drinking in your slick like honey.

“Stay fuckin’ still,” Osamu groaned into your heat, slapping the inside of your thighs. “I can’t make ya cum if yer wigglin’, sweets.” that was a lie. He was a liar. He could make you cum regardless of how much you were moving, he didn’t matter to him. But if you writhed around so much that it caused some ingredients to fall onto the floor, then it became a problem. 

“S-sorry ‘Samu! Fuck!” you moaned, your hands gripping onto the steel material of the counter for dear life as his tongue hungrily, your sweet nectar coating his tongue beautifully. It was the best alcohol he could ever wish to taste. “M’close!”

“Ya better fuckin’ be. I only got five minutes before those fuckers wonder why the shop ain’t open,” his words sent vibrations through your core, your clit painfully pulsating. The rough pad of this thumb swirled around the sensitive bud, pressing against it harshly. “Be a good girl and fuckin’ cum already, yeah? Gotta open up soon, sweets.”

Osamu finally flattened his tongue in the way that drove you over the edge, still swirling your bud with his rough thumb. “That’s it, good fuckin’ girl,” he groaned, lapping up your release eagerly. “Taste so fuckin’ good for me.”

He pulled himself out from between your thighs, wiping off his chin with the backside of his hand. Osamu stood up and pecked the top of your head, playfully slapping your soaked cunt. “Get outta here, I got customers to serve.” he also had to sanitize his countertop hard. 

❥ Kenma Kozume | Suffocate him

Kenma will only eat you out if you sit on his face. Not hover, not dangle, fucking sit on it. Despite being a CEO and a popular streamer, this man is lazy as hell. Typically, you do all the work during sex. Bouncing on his cock, sucking him off, etc. But on the rare occasion Kenma wants to eat you out, you still have to pull a heavy load. He is not getting up off his ass by any means, so you might as well cooperate with him. He’s stubborn as a fucking mule.

Kenma was a selfish lover, and he didn’t want to change that. He liked being taken care of and not putting much effort into it. He’s already so successful. Why should he do more work than he already is? That’s so exhausting. But how could he refuse when his pretty girlfriend practically paws at him to help get her off? He’s lying on the bed in a minute, gesturing to you to tear off those pretty red panties and take away his ability to breathe.

“Ride my fucking face,” Kenma groans into your core, squeezing your ass with hands as your hips buck into his mouth wildly. He loved it when you got like this, so desperate and needy for his tongue. His tongue plunged into your sobbing cunt over and over again, eliciting the cutest moans from your pretty lips.

“Fuck, Kenma!” you whimpered, your hands grasping the mahogany headboard like it was the last lifeboat on board. Your ground your clit onto his nose, mewling pathetically as his tongue lashed at your most intimate parts. Kenma savored your sweet honey, adoring how it nicely coated his tongue. Maybe he should make you fit on his face more often. 

His deep brown hair stuck to his forehead, the skin slick with sweat as the tip of his tongue traced meaningless shapes on your clit, occasionally nibbling at the sensitive bud. He knew you were close. The way your entire body was shaking was a dead fucking giveaway. That, and his name practically being screamed repeatedly, was also a good sign. “Gonna cum? Do it, princess. Make a mess on me.”

And you did, your orgasm spilling all over your boyfriend’s cute face. Your writing stopped, with Kenma slapped your ass, indicating that you should get off. You sighed and chose to straddle his lap, pecking his nose gently. “Thank you, baby, that was amazing.”

“Did you think we were finished?” Kenma groaned, resting his arms behind his head. “You got me really fucking hard, princess. How about you take care of that for me, yeah?”

❥ Kotaro Bokuto | Pure addiction

Boktuo fucking loves eating you out. Whenever you mentioned that you were horny, he would drag you into his bed and plunge his face into your thighs until he got you to coat your inner thighs with your release. He could never get enough of you and how good you tasted. How you would only crave his tongue and his fingers on your most imitate parts. 

He didn’t fucking care when or where you were horny, he was more than happy to make you scream in pleasure. Whispering to him in a cafe? He locked the bathroom and had you sitting on the sick, your dress bunched up at your hips, and your stockings ripped so your soaking cunt could be displayed just for him. Woke up at two in the morning from a wet dream? No problem, he had you riding his face while he jerked his fat cock to the sounds you made. Did you also wanna suck him off? No problem, baby! You were sixty-nining until the rooster screeched. Truly, Bokuto was addicted to eating you out. 

“Why are you covering your mouth, baby? I wanna hear your moans,” Bokuto groaned into your cunt, eagerly lapping up your slick like a man gone mad. Your trembling body was pinned against the bathroom door of your favorite restaurant, your skirt pushed upwards, and your soaked panties dangled off your ankles while Bokuto whispered pure filth into your cunt. “Don't you wanna let all those people out there know how good my tongue can make you feel?”

“Ngh, we’ll get in trouble, Kotaro!” you whispered, doing your best to keep your voice at an acceptable level while your boyfriend spelled his name with your tongue, eliciting a sharp squeak in return. “F-fuck, don’t stop!”

“Yeah? You wanna cum on my face in a public bathroom, hm? God, you’re so fucking hot. How’d I get so lucky?” he purred against your clit, swirling the tip of his tongue over the throbbing bud. “You taste so fucking good, holy shit. Way better than lunch.”

His index and ring finger bullied their way inside of you, curling at the spot that made you instantly cum all over his face. He didn’t stop sucking on your folds when your orgasm hit, his fingers still scissoring deep inside of your broken cunt. Your hand slapped over your mouth, covering out your molten cries of ecstasy.

“Good fucking girl, I’m so proud of you.” Bokuto praised, licking off his tongue as he stared at your ruined state. He pulled your panties up and your dress down, kissing your forehead tenderly. “Now, do you wanna go back home and cum again, hm?

[act-nat-ural]

First Sight

@dira333: what if you're related or friends with the Miya twins and they accidentally or not set you up with someone on the msby roster? Meian is really cute if you know the manga, but there's also Sakusa, Hinata or Bokuto

word count: 1782

Osamu had already closed Miya Onigiri for the day, yet his two favorite moochers were still sitting at a booth consuming his food for free. He sighs, having already locked the doors, and put the chairs on top of the tables. He takes a seat next to Atsumu and joins your guys’ conversation. “I’m just sayin’,” Atsumu starts, “If yer so lonely, go out an’ meet someone. It's not that hard.”He finishes his sentence by taking a gigantic bite. He nods to himself like he made a great point, though you and Osamu are giving him side eyes. 

“And how would ya know that? Ya haven’t gone on a date in over three months.” You point out.

Osamu snorts and adds, “Last relationship I remember you cryin’ like a baby, saying’ that ya would never love again.” 

Atsumu scoffs and mumbles a “Shuddup!” while you let out a deep sigh and rest your head on the cool surface of the table. “It's not fair.” You whine. “I've got like, no love life. Why don’t ya set me up with yer hot friends?” 

They share a look for a minute, then at the same time say “No.” You scoff and slam a hand on the table. 

“Why the hell not!” 

Osamu raises his hands in defense while Atsumu enters ‘big brother mode’. “Yer our only sister, and I love ya too much to set ya up with the idiots I call friends. Yer too good for them!” You roll your eyes but he continues. “Omi probably has some secret girlfriend already, Shoyo only thinks about volleyball, and Koutaro’s.. Well, he's.. I dunno. But I don’t trust them with ya!”

You groan and give Osamu a pleading look. “Please?” He gives you a deadpan look.

“It's a hard no. I’d have to kill Rintaro if he even looked at ya wrong.” You groan and throw your hands in the air.

“Gimme a break! I’m a grown woman, I can handle myself.” They both burst into laughter, so you kick Atsumu under the table.

“Owch! Hey!” 

–

You were watching a movie at home by yourself when you heard your phone start to buzz. You glance away from the screen to see ‘Samu’ in bold letters pop up on your phone. You pause the move and check the text he sent you.

Samu: Hey. You still looking for a date?

Your eyes widen and you start to squeal. “Yes! ‘Samu for the win.” You start to celebrate prematurely when your phone buzzes again. 

Samu: I have an idea but Tsumu wouldn’t like it lolol

Your smile drops and you grab the phone to respond.

You: what does that even mean…

Samu: Sooo have you ever met his team before?

You: no, I’ve met Kiyoomi but only briefly. why?? who are you thinking of?? Omg 

Samu: that desperation is exactly what made me think of him LMAO

You gasp in offense and angrily respond, 

You: WTF DOES THAT MEAN 

Samu: anyway! 🙂 I was thinking of inviting some of the team to my place for dinner or something, you wanna come? you can’t tell Tsumu you’re coming though or he'd throw a fit or smth.

You chew on your lip in thought. On one hand, you really want to meet someone. On the other, if it ends up not working out, it could really make things awkward for your brother and his friends. You pause. He’ll be fine.

You: I'll be there :) love you!

Meanwhile, Osamu sighs and leans back against the headboard. “She better not say I never do anything for her. Hmph.”

Samu: love you too 🙄

–

Osamu was drying his hands when he heard the doorbell ring. “Comin’.” He opens the door and there stands Atsumu, Kiyoomi, Shoyo, and Kotaro. Atsmu gives a cheeky grin, holding up a case of beer.

“I come bearing gifts.” Koutaro blinks in confusion.

“But I bought it-”

“Shush.”

Osamu moves aside so they can all come in. “No one else comin’?” Kiyoomi shakes his head.

“Shugo was going to but he got caught up with something. The rest all had other arrangements.” Osamu nods in understanding. Shoyo immediately beelines for the kitchen.

“What smells so good? I’m starving!”

Kiyoomi furrows his brows stating, “You ate the whole way here.”

Just then, the doorbell rings again. This time there is no need to open the door, because you just so happen to have a key. “Hello!” You stroll in like you own the place. Osamu has to fight to hold his laugh in when he sees the look on Atsumu’s face. 

“I didn’t know what to bring so I just brought cookies. I think I burnt them though.” You mumble. Kiyoomi gives you a nod in acknowledgment as you set the platter of charred baked goods on the counter. “Soo… are ya gonna introduce me?”

“Samu. What is she doing here?” Atsumu chokes out. You scoff.

 “I’m literally standing right here.”

“What? I can’t invite our own sister to my apartment?” Osamu gives an innocent shrug. 

“This was supposed to be a guys night!” Atsumu complains childishly. 

Shoyo pipes in, “I don’t mind! The more people the better. Right, Bokuto? ….Bokuto?”

–

If you had asked Koutaro then, he would have sworn he had never seen a more beautiful girl. The moment you walked in the door it was like he lost all of the air in his chest. He almost texted Keiji to ask what a heart attack felt like. His heart thumped in his chest and he could feel his hands start to get sweaty. Pretty girl. I’m not good around pretty girls. 

He didn’t even realize that he was being spoken to until Shoyo poked his arm. “Huh? Wha? Oh- Yes. Stay. Please.” Everyone just kind of stares at him for a moment before moving on. He accidentally stares at you while you get introduced to Shoyo, yet you don’t notice till Atsumu tries introducing him. You give a shy smile and a wave, and that's all he needs to see to know that he's a goner. 

–

You had never taken a good look at Koutaro Bokuto before this, and boy do you wish you had. Everything about him had you feeling weak in the knees. He was very built, taking up a large portion of the sofa that he was sitting on. You had snuck a glance at his back while walking in and Jesus. That man was built like a Greek god. His golden eyes seemed to never leave your figure, and he kept giving you a dopey smile. You give a small smile back and wave, hoping you don’t make a fool of yourself. Later, you swore you saw Osamu give you a thumbs up, but he denies it.

Everyone else flocks to the kitchen to start getting something to eat, yet you and Koutaro stay behind. You hesitantly sit down beside him, a few feet away. You both give sheepish smiles directed at the other, not sure what to say. Just then, Osamu comes back. “Darn. We’re out of soy sauce. Koutaro, (Name), do ya guys mind going to the market and grabbing some?” He says, not very convincingly. 

Shoyo gives him a confused look and starts, “But there was some-” 

“Shush.”

Koutaro immediately shoots up from his seat. “Yeah, we can get it!” He gives you a beaming smile and you can’t help but return in. He lends you a hand up from the sofa, practically bouncing with excitement. “We’ll be back soon.” Osamu gives you a wink and pats your back. 

“Take your time.”

You and Koutaro are silent for a while as you walk to the nearest market. You notice that while his strides are larger than yours, he slows his pace to match yours. He shoves his hands in his pockets and takes a glance around

“So, what do you do for fun?” He turns and asks suddenly. You hum in thought.

 “I guess I hang out with my brothers a lot. I watch movies alone sometimes. Work has kept me busy recently, so I haven’t been doing much recently.” He nods in understanding.

He clears his throat before inquiring, “You don’t watch movies with your boyfriend?” 

You smile and shake your head, laughing. “No, I don’t have one.” He stops walking and gawks at you.

 “Seriously?! You're single?!” You raise your eyebrows in surprise and nod slowly. 

“Yeah.. why? Is it that surprising?” He shakes his head yes enthusiastically. 

“I totally thought you’d be married or something, you're so pretty.”

You go quiet. “Really?”

“Yes! Really! Man, I thought I had like no shot.” He adds. You both freeze and look at each other wide eyed.

 “Huh?”

 “What?”

You sputter and point at him. “Ya just- ya said ya thought-” 

“I- well-!” You both stand on the sidewalk, fidgeting with your hands. He scratches his head and blushes. “Are you free tomorrow?” 

You had never said yes faster in your life.

– 

You two were dying of laughter, wiping your eyes from tears. “Man, I wish I had sisters.” You say. 

“Yeah, they're pretty cool.” He says matter of factly. You both had gotten sidetracked and never ended up going to the market. Currently, he and you were sitting on a pair of swings at a local park. Your phone buzzes softly and you apologize to him before checking it. 

Tsumu: where tf did you go 

You: don’t cockblock me <3

Tsumu: PARDON?

You click your phone to silent before turning back to Koutaro. “Now, where were we?”

–

It only took a few dates before he asked you to be his girlfriend. You agreed, of course. You would've said yes if he had asked the night you met, if you were honest. Atsumu begrudgingly gave Koutaro his blessing to propose a couple years into dating. Osamu was a bit offended that he didn't ask him, considering he was responsible for you two meeting.

Koutaro was terrible at keeping secrets, so he ended up proposing the second he got home after ring shopping. You felt a bit ambushed, having been washing dishes in unwashed pajamas, but it was still a definite yes.

Currently, Atsumu was walking up to the mic to give a speech during your wedding. You rest your head on Koutaro’s shoulder, and he intertwines your fingers. Atsumu pokes the microphone and the feedback screeches, bothering everyone.

“Ahem. Now, if anyone knows me, they know I love my sister. That, and I only want what's best for her. That having been said, I would like a ‘thank you’ for this marriage, considering it was my idea to get ya together.”

“Liar!”

note: i just realized i keep writing the twins shushing people lol. Bokuto is so fun to write for 😭 he’s so silly

[everrinsly]

a/n; this is so silly and super long but made me laugh haha i hope you enjoy too

a momager and her silly olympic team.

big, strong olympic babies. fluff. fem!reader. | not proofread.

more olympic team shenanigans here!

more reads!

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

It was supposed to be a simple procedure.

Just a quick blood draw—routine anti-doping protocol for the Olympic committee.

Simple, clean, quick.

In, out, done.

But you should’ve known better.

Because you were managing Team Japan, which meant logic and peace left the chat the second you walked into the small medical room with the group of oversized children and two very tired authority figures.

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

“Can’t we just pee in a cup or somethin’?!” Atsumu whined, clutching his arm like it had already been severed. “Why does it gotta be blood?”

The nurse blinked at him, void of any emotion, and calmly replied, "You'll pee in the cup after your blood is drawn."

"WAIT—we gotta do BOTH?!"

"Well shit... I don't even have any pee left in me."

"Should I chug some water now?"

You glanced sheepishly over your clipboard as the nurse rolled her eyes for the fifth time.

“Iwaizumi," she sighed. “You said they were professionals.”

Iwaizumi, standing beside you with his arms crossed and murder in his eyes, growled lowly. "How about everyone sit the fuck down—they are. They’re just being idiots.”

“IT’S A NEEDLE, IWA.” Bokuto wailed from his seat, gripping the armrest like it might save him. “LIKE A PIERCING METAL STABBER. RIGHT INTO MY VEINS!”

“It’s like ten inches long,” Hinata whispered in horror, eyeing the straight needle like it might leap into his skin. “Why is it so long? Does it even need to be that long?!”

“I feel faint,” Atsumu muttered, already lying dramatically across two chairs. “If I die, tell ma I love her. Not 'Samu though.”

Suna eyed Atsumu with a slow grin before pulling his phone out. "Say hi to Osamu. I'm gonna show him what a wimp you are—"

"NO—THE FUCK YOU AREN'T—"

Aran slapped the back of Atsumu's head before he got a chance to lunge at Suna. "How about both of you cut it out before I call your guys' worst nightmare."

"Who?"

"Kita."

"Oh."

"ARAN—I thought you were my friend—"

"Mm, no. Not when you're acting like that."

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

“ALRIGHT, who’s up first?”

The nurse's voice cut through the chaos in the room, loud but monotone, like she was already done with Team Japan not even two minutes in.

As she prepped a set of vials and associated straight needles, Sakusa stood immediately, calm as ever. “I’ll go.”

“SEE?” Iwaizumi barked from behind you. “Like a normal adult. Thank you, Sakusa.”

Hinata whispered something in awe.

“He takes the flu vaccine every year,” Komori whispered back like it was a bedtime story.

Sakusa made a face at Komori under his mask, eyes squinting. "Did you all not take your flu vaccine?"

“I did,” Ushijima raised his hands, a twitch of a smile gracing his lips.

“I was busy,” Atsumu offered.

“Busy doing what?” Sakusa snapped. “Scrolling through food TikTok?!”

"I mean... I was doing that," Suna shrugged.

You placed a gentle hand on Sakusa’s arm, trying to soothe him. “Hey, it’s okay—”

“No, it’s not okay,” Sakusa said darkly. “I’m surrounded by disease-ridden volleyball toddlers.”

He let out a sigh of disappointment before he sat down, pushed up his sleeve, and barely blinked as the needle slid into his arm.

“I don’t like watching this,” Atsumu muttered.

“Then don’t watch it,” you replied, not even turning around as you helped the nurse line up the next tubes. “You’re all professional athletes. You face blocks going 100 kilometers an hour. A needle should not be this scary.”

“That’s different,” Kageyama mumbled.

“How?” you deadpanned.

“Blocks don’t stab you.”

You snorted and glanced over your shoulder just in time to see Hinata clutching Komori’s arm like he was about to face a death sentence.

“You’re not even next, Hinata,” Komori whispered, patting his head.

“Yet!”

“Alright, all done,” the nurse smiled at Sakusa.

He stood up, rolled down his sleeve, and dusted off his hands like he’d just finished a perfectly timed serve.

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

“Who's next?”

Suna stepped forward next, hands tucked in his jacket pockets.

You raised a brow. “Didn’t expect you to be so brave.”

“I have a tattoo,” he said dryly. “Needles and I have an understanding.”

That earned a round of complaints.

“Wait, Suna goes next?!” Atsumu pointed at him, offended. “Just ‘cause he has a tattoo doesn’t mean he’s not scared!”

Suna lifted his shirt slightly to flash a bit of ink on his ribcage. “Wanna see if I flinch?”

You and the nurse both rolled your eyes.

"Put your shirt down. You're gonna cause a PR scandal again, Suna," Aran said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You’re such a show-off,” you murmured, but there was a smile tugging at your lips.

While Suna got his blood drawn (and, true to his word, didn’t flinch at all), Bokuto started pacing like he was about to give a TED Talk titled How I Conquered Fear (Just Kidding).

“I’ve never fainted,” Bokuto said, puffing out his chest. “But like, what if today is the day? What if my blood just—whoosh—rushes out too fast?”

“Bo,” you sighed, “that’s…not how blood draws work.”

“But what if it is?” he wailed.

“It’s not!” Iwaizumi groaned.

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

Coach, who had entered five minutes ago and said absolutely nothing, was now quietly combusting in the corner.

Aran leaned in to whisper in your ear. "Coach is this close to losing it, isn't he?"

"Think he's already lost it," you laughed. "You all better be prepared for the special punishment drill tomorrow."

Everyone went dead silent.

"Wait... what drill?"

"I kind of like that drill," Ushijima murmured, nodding his head. "Helps me stretch my back."

"The hell are you talking about—"

"It's a back drill?!"

"IWA—tell us—"

"You'll see tomorrow."

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

“KOMORI,” the nurse called, cutting the stress in the air.

Komori tensed so hard you thought he might vibrate through the wall.

“I need someone to hold my hand,” he whispered. “Like I really really really do!”

You exchanged a glance with Iwaizumi, who looked about two seconds from purposely walking into traffic. Then, resigned, you stepped up and reached out.

Komori grabbed your hand like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to this world.

“I’m sweating,” he whimpered. “I’m so sweaty.”

“It’s okay,” you soothed, holding in your laughter. “You’re fine.”

Kageyama stared at the exchange like he was memorizing every second of it.

Atsumu leaned over to whisper, “Bet Tobio's plannin' to fake a heart attack next, so he can skip."

“I can hear you,” Kageyama hissed.

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

When it was finally Bokuto’s turn, he saluted you like a fallen soldier. “Tell Akaashi… I did my best.”

“You’re not dying, Bokuto.”

He nodded solemnly. “Yet.”

As the blood draw began, he yelped once—then looked shocked.

“…That’s it?”

“Yeah,” you said. “You made it.”

“OH SHIT—I’M A SURVIVOR,” he shouted.

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

Hinata was next, and to his credit, he tried to play it cool.

“I’m ready,” he said, chest puffed out.

You raised a brow. “Need a hand?”

“…Yes.”

You held it.

He didn’t cry, but his lips did wobble. And he squeezed so hard you were sure you lost circulation.

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

When it was Atsumu’s turn, he slumped into the chair like a man defeated.

“I just think,” he started dramatically, “that if I pass out and ya don’t pamper me, it’s gonna hurt more emotionally than physically.”

“You’re not gonna pass out,” you said.

He stared at the needle. “…I might.”

“You won’t.”

“I could.”

“You won’t, 'Tsumu.”

He pouted. “But will I get pampering just in case?”

“No,” Iwaizumi snapped. “You’ll get an ice pack and your dignity, if you’re lucky.”

He definitely flinched when the needle went in. You absolutely teased him about it.

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

A hushed awe fell over the room as Ushijima quietly stepped up for his turn.

No panic. No whining. No flailing. Just… silence.

Even the nurse blinked at him.

“…Wow,” she muttered. “This one might actually be normal.”

Ushijima sat with perfect posture, expression blank as ever, arm outstretched.

“I don't understand the fear of needles,” he said calmly, watching the nurse swab his skin. “They are quite small. Less painful than a hard block.”

You leaned over to brush a strand of hair that had flopped over his forehead.

"I'm proud of you," you murmured, soft and sincere.

"OH—he gets a I'm proud of you and I DON'T?!"

"SHUT UP, MIYA!"

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

You nudged Aran. "Your turn, superstar."

“Alright, alright,” he said, rolling his sleeves up and taking a deep breath. “Let’s get this over with. I got this. I’m cool.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

Aran smirked. “I’m not like those guys. Needles? Pssh.”

One minute later…

“I’M SORRY, BUT I MIGHT DIE.”

Aran was gripping your hand like it was his lifeline, leaning back in the chair as the nurse tried to steady his arm.

“Just breathe,” you coaxed, trying not to laugh. “You said you were cool.”

“I was cool until that pointy thing of evil came out of nowhere!” he hissed.

“It’s a tiny straight needle,” the nurse deadpanned.

“I don’t care if it’s gold-plated! That pointy stabber's evil!”

Suna chuckled from his chair, legs crossed, blood already drawn, bandage stylishly in place. “Tough guy act didn’t last long, huh, Aran?”

“You hush,” Aran snapped.

Suna leaned back with a smug grin. “Still not scared of needles."

“Wanna say that again in front of Kita when we're back in Hyogo, Mister-I-have-a-tattoo-and-I'm-so-great?”

Suna opened his mouth—probably to say something horrifyingly smug—only to be cut off by Iwaizumi’s death glare.

“ENOUGH. If one more of you calls it the pointy stabber, I’m dragging you outside for suicide sprints right now.

Everyone immediately shut up.

Except Atsumu, who whispered to Bokuto, “Do ya think if I faint, I’ll get more sympathy points?”

“You’ll get buried,” Iwaizumi snapped, without turning around.

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

Last up was Kageyama.

“Do I get something if I don’t flinch?” he asked suddenly, looking at you.

You blinked. “…Like what?”

“I dunno. A frozen yogurt treat?”

“…Fine. No flinch, no fuss, and I’ll make the fancy honey and blueberry one later.”

He turned to the nurse, expression dead serious. “I’m ready.”

He didn’t flinch. You were kind of proud.

Then he turned to Atsumu and whispered, “Enjoy your dignity. I’m getting yogurt.”

“SHUT UP,” Atsumu barked.

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

When the chaos finally ended, you stepped out into the hallway with Iwaizumi and Coach.

Iwaizumi looked like he’d aged ten years.

Coach ran a hand down his face. “They spike balls for a living.”

“I know,” Iwaizumi said through gritted teeth.

You, somehow still chipper, smiled. “They’re just scared of the little things.”

Coach looked at you. “What aren’t they scared of?”

You didn't have an answer.

Then the nurse strolled past, hands clutching the biohazard bags ready to be sent to the testing center, and murmured, “God help Japan.”

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

[noorpersona]

Rivalry: Iwaizumi

You didn’t knock.

The door slammed open against the wall with a thud, reverberating through the quiet of the gym offices as you stepped in like a storm on legs. Iwaizumi barely looked up from his tablet, but the hard flicker of his eyes said everything.

“You want to tell me what the hell this is?” You threw the clipboard down onto his desk—hard enough that the pens rattled.

He set the tablet down slowly, deliberately, like he was resisting the urge to match your energy. “You’ll have to be more specific. I get a lot of aggressive paperwork these days.”

You narrowed your eyes. “The new conditioning plan. The one that overemphasizes lower-body strength for half the defensive line—including Yaku, who, if you remember, has two prior knee injuries and doesn’t need another one.”

“It’s a generalized strength cycle,” he said, already starting to sound annoyed. “And Yaku’s cleared. His knees aren’t glass.”

You leaned forward, voice clipped. “And he’s cleared with a note that says he needs flexibility emphasis. You’re pushing reps on a recovering joint. That’s not generalized, that’s reckless.”

His jaw ticked. “I’m not pushing anything he can’t handle. He’s an elite athlete, not a porcelain doll.”

You scoffed, shaking your head, pacing a few steps across the room. “Jesus, Hajime, sometimes I think you forget you’re not just coaching weight numbers—you’re managing people. People with injuries, with thresholds. If he gets benched because you want him to hit a personal best on a squat—”

“—Then that’s on me,” Iwaizumi cut in, standing now, matching your gaze, his voice sharp. “Not on you.”

You turned slowly, cold fury in your expression. “You’re damn right it won’t be on me. Because I’m not signing off on that.”

He stepped around the desk. “You don’t get to unilaterally veto a team decision.”

“You don’t get to override medical flags like you’re some goddamn authority on joint physiology.” You jabbed a finger into his chest. “Your job is to keep them strong. Mine is to keep them playing. If they’re hurt, no one wins.”

The tension hung thick between you both, barely bridled, mouths drawn tight like you were both holding back everything you really wanted to say.

“God, you’re infuriating,” he muttered under his breath.

“Right back at you.”

You turned sharply, storming to the door. You needed air. You needed to not strangle a nationally-ranked strength coach in the middle of an Olympic facility.

But when you threw the door open, two bodies fell inward with a crash.

Bokuto hit the ground first, limbs flailing like he’d just been knocked out of a tree. Atsumu came next, barely catching himself on the wall, eyes wide as he winced dramatically.

“Ow—shit—”

“Uh… hi?” Bokuto grinned sheepishly from the floor. “We were just… stretching.”

You stared down at them, blinking once. Then twice.

“Stretching,” you repeated flatly.

“In the hallway,” Atsumu added quickly, brushing himself off. “Gotta stay limber, you would know Doc.”

Your glare could’ve turned them to ash.

Behind you, Iwaizumi groaned under his breath.

“I’m going to kill both of you,” you muttered.

“No need!” Bokuto said, already scrambling back. “We were just leaving! Right, ’Tsumu?”

“Yup. Definitely not eavesdropping. Totally respect privacy.”

They both darted off like startled dogs, leaving behind only the faint sound of snickering down the hall.

You didn’t say another word. You just stepped out, slammed the door behind you, and willed your heart to stop pounding through your ribs.

—

The door had barely stopped vibrating when Iwaizumi let out a slow, audible sigh. He turned back to his desk, ran a hand through his hair, and stared blankly at the clipboard you’d left behind like it was personally mocking him.

God, you were impossible.

And you were right.

He wasn’t about to admit that—not to your face, not in front of a pair of eavesdropping idiots, and definitely not when your voice still echoed in his head like a challenge he hadn’t yet figured out how to win.

“Yo, Iwa.”

Iwaizumi turned, slowly, to see Atsumu leaning against the gym wall with all the subtlety of a spotlight. Bokuto was standing beside him, whispering something that earned him a smack on the arm.

“What,” Iwaizumi snapped. Not a question. A warning.

Atsumu raised his hands innocently. “Nothin’. Just, uh… wonderin’ if we’re still runnin’ through defensive drills. Or if you need a minute to, y’know, recover.”

“I’m fine.”

“You sure?” Bokuto grinned, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. “’Cause that sounded brutal. Like, she murdered you with words.”

Iwaizumi narrowed his eyes. “Do either of you want to do ten extra sets of burpees?”

“Shutting up!” Atsumu said quickly, throwing a thumbs-up before jogging off toward the court.

Bokuto lingered a second longer. “Hey,”

Iwaizumi looked up again.

“She’s not wrong. Yaku’s been wincing during cooldowns.”

Then he jogged off too, leaving Iwaizumi alone with nothing but the echo of your voice and the weight of the truth.

He grunted under his breath, shaking his head as he walked toward the training area, jaw tight. His athletes were waiting. The whistle was in his hand. He’d deal with you later.

But even as he barked out the next drill set, his mind drifted back to the fire in your voice, the way you jabbed a finger into his chest like you weren’t afraid of anything—not even him.

And for some goddamn reason, that wasn’t just infuriating.

It was distracting.

Worse: it was getting harder to ignore.

[aquateeth]

Movie Night

♡ Timeskip!Kenma x reader

♡ Word Count: 2.6k~

♡ Warnings: Smut, fingering, afab!reader, lowkey exhibitionism??? (but not rlly)

It was movie night at Kenma’s and your house. For the duration of your long relationship, you had made it a monthly ritual to hang out with friends and watch a movie. Of course, at the beginning of your relationship, Kenma hadn’t been too thrilled by the idea of giving up his space, but he secretly had come to enjoy the time spent with company. The two of you usually hosted, as you had the nicest of your friends’ houses (thanks primarily to your boyfriend’s cushy job), and tonight was no exception. 

Kuroo was sprawled out in a chair with a fresh bowl of buttered popcorn in his hand; he had insisted on bringing along Bokuto, who sat in an identical chair right across from him, eyes preoccupied with viewing the footage of the latest MSBY game on his phone. It was just the four of you tonight. Not a huge gathering, which you and Kenma appreciated, but enough to satisfy that itch to socialize. With the two chairs taken, it left you and your boyfriend to curl up on the couch. 

On good days, there was a certain new movie everyone wanted to see, and you all would establish plans beforehand to make sure that those plans came to fruition. Tonight was not one of those nights. Recently, there had been a shortage of interesting movies released in theatres and streaming platforms, making your lives more difficult regarding your habitual entertainment viewings. 

You sighed and grabbed the remote to begin flipping through different movie titles, as you had done the month before, until you stopped on one that piqued everyone’s attention. It was a newer movie that none of the four of you had gotten around to seeing, but had heard intriguing aspects. It was a thriller, but what made it really become a box-office success was the sex scene that people were heavily praising. Being you, your social media pages were flooded with edits of said scene. Influencers with their reaction videos blew up everywhere, and people were already discussing how excited they were for the sequel. Of course, you weren’t entirely sure if Kuroo or Bokuto knew about this specific scene, as you doubted they would have been so eager to agree to watch. You were pretty confident they were most excited to see the explicit zombie deaths. Besides, their social media practically only consisted of volleyball and cute animal videos. However, you were positive that your sweet boyfriend had no idea. 

Films weren’t his go-to media unless they were movies based on games. In those cases, he would film a reaction video either bashing the movie or hesitantly saying it wasn’t that bad (don’t get him started on the logistics of the Minecraft movie). Sure, he liked the occasional movie viewing when he was bored or after a long day, especially when that meant he was able to spend time with you, but he just wasn’t the most knowledgeable when it came to film culture and topical movies. Which is why you were sure he was completely clueless about what would ensue in the coming hours. 

As you pressed the play button, you scooted closer to Kenma under the soft blanket and draped your legs over his lithe body. You shifted positions quite frequently during the first half of the film until settling practically in your boyfriend’s lap. For you, it was challenging to get comfortable and stay in one place for extended periods of time. You were also a bit anxious for this “highly acclaimed” scene.

The movie was quite good, you had to admit. Honestly, you were surprised you didn’t hear more praise for the film itself. It seemed like everyone else was enjoying it as well. Bokuto had interrupted with his commentary only four times, which you swore was a record for him, and the other two were staring intently at the screen, or that’s what you assumed at least on Kenma’s part, as you couldn’t see behind you. 

Then came the sex scene. You swore you felt the energy in the living room change. It was like all of you held your breaths, scared that if one of you made a sound, the scene would stop. You were suddenly hyper-aware of the arms wrapped snugly around your body from behind and how the breathing near your ear seemed to get heavier by a fraction. Soon, you felt the familiar pool of warmth between your legs. The male actor was just so attractive, and he was doing, quite literally, everything you liked; it was like the scene was specifically tailored for your enjoyment.

Your ever observant boyfriend felt you stiffen in his grasp and noticed how you bit your lip as you stared at the TV with lust-blown eyes. Your fingers curled slightly around the blanket on instinct, and the only thing that brought you out of your entrancement were the soft lips that began peppering your neck. 

Kenma thought you smelled homey, nice, as he continued his work, ignoring how you shifted in his clutch. He could tell you were turned on, and he would be lying if he didn’t think it was hot that it was due to a simple film scene. 

He bit down gently at this thought, in which you let out a startled gasp, fingers finding purchase in the fuzzy blanket once more. You looked around, worried that your other two party members had heard, but thankfully, they were too engrossed by the movie and their own fantasies to notice. Glancing behind, you attempted to lock eyes with your boyfriend in order to make sense of what was happening. Unfortunately, his attention was also on the screen. 

His long hair was down, not tied up in the ponytail he usually wore for work. For a second, you forgot about the scene in front of you. The light from the screen reflected off his skin, dancing and making patterns. You thought he looked lovely, far hotter than any sex scene. You turned your body towards him to fully get a view as you reached up to caress his face, mesmerized by the way the flickering lighting cast shadows against his skin at your touch. Your hand movements got his attention, and he looked at you. He instantly blushed at the love-sick expression you wore. Kenma pulled you impossibly closer and lowered his head to slant his mouth over yours. 

The kisses started slow and soft, and you could feel yourself melt into his body. It quickly picked up in pace and grew steamier; your lips felt like they were on fire. Moans cascaded from the actress on the TV behind you, and you arched into Kenma’s grasp from the overstimulation of everything going on. He groaned softly into you at the movement and broke the kiss. You pouted at the lack of sensation before your eyes widened. He maintained eye contact as he ran his fingers over you, starting at your chest and working down. His hands cupped your breasts and lightly squeezed, causing you to muffle your voice with the back of your hand. You reached out your arms to hold onto his shoulders in an attempt to stabilize yourself as his eyes flicked over you. His hands cascaded down your sides before settling on your hips. You looked up at him expectantly, waiting for his next action.

“Lift up.”

His quiet yet commanding voice spoke next to your ear, and you immediately 

lifted your hips. He hooked one of his fingers in your shorts and pulled them down, leaving your lower half bare in just a pair of underwear. Next, he spread your thighs so he could get access to your dripping cunt. Your eyes were round as you watched his hands disappear under you. This situation felt precarious and rather wrong. Sure, you had done some rather risqué things in your relationship, and your sex wasn’t all vanilla, but fucking while your friends were in the room? That was unexplored territory for the two of you. The worst part? You were immensely turned on by the situation. 

Your mouth was open as soon as you felt his fingers on your panties, briefly applying pressure to your clit. His previously concentrated expression gave way to a sadistic smile as he felt how wet you were. He chewed on his lip and locked eyes with you as he rubbed you some more through the thin material. You were taking anything you could get; any form of friction was satisfying and alleviated the throbbing in your cunt. 

You panted as your nails dug into his shoulders. Kenma was getting impatient as well. His dick twitched in his pants as he wasted no time moving your laced underwear to the side, seeing your drenched pussy. 

He swallowed, hard. 

His fingers played with your clit some more, freely able to use your wetness as lube. He trekked his way to your tight entrance and teased it by inserting the tiniest tip of his finger while his other hand went back to pleasuring your bundle of nerves. You moaned softly, as you didn’t want your friends to hear, and your boyfriend gave you a pointed look. Freeing one of his hands, he pulled your face close to him, tilting it slightly. 

“Are you going to be quiet for me?” Kenma asked, his breath tickling your ear. You nodded vehemently; you would practically say anything in order to gain some relief. The corners of his mouth turned upwards ever so slightly at your response, and he fully inserted two of his fingers without warning, stretching your tightness. You’re pretty sure you blacked out for a second at the initial intrusion, but the hand holding your chin up from falling onto his chest brought you back to reality. You looked up to see his golden eyes watching you from above, like you were the only thing worth staring at. Gosh, he thought you looked so good. With your cheeks pink, hair askew, and mouth agape, he could have sworn he was in Heaven.

His hand pumped leisurely, and your cunt practically sucked him in every time. This was going to be a lot more challenging than you thought. You were practically stifling moans every couple of seconds as he scissored his fingers again and again. Usually, you were grateful for the fact that your boyfriend literally gamed as a profession and therefore acquired “gaming hands”, but today you were cursing them for putting you in such a difficult position. His fingers pumped inside of you: slowly at first, but then he would suddenly speed up, causing you to close your eyes in pleasure. Then, the flicking of his wrist would lighten up, letting you get in a couple of breaths before repeating the process. 

His long, slender fingers soon found the spot that had you seeing stars, and you almost screamed in frustration from not being able to make a sound. The unwarranted speeding up of his fingers was getting too much for you; you had to find a way to distract him. You leaned in to teeth at his collarbone, and his breath hitched. Unfortunately for you, this had the opposite effect on him, and he only sped up. You whined, upping your game by kissing the sweet spot on his neck. This time, his movements stuttered briefly, but it wasn’t enough. Your mouth on his neck, feeling your tightness between his fingers, and your resolve to stay as quiet as possible was too much for Kenma. His hard-on ached, and he let out a low grunt. Sucking more on his neck, you doubled down on his sweet spot, applying more pressure. 

You wanted to break him a little, to have him make more pretty sounds, which is what led you to palm his clothed length. He couldn’t help but whine at the sensation as you continued your aggressions. His sensitive tip was leaking at this point, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back his moans if you continued. Fuck, you were going to be the death of him. With his free hand, he grabbed your wrist, redirecting it to be placed in his hair. He was still pumping inside of you, and you tugged his dark hair into a makeshift ponytail in order to let off some steam. 

You were getting close at this point. He could tell by how your thighs were clenching periodically and how your eyes seemed to form hearts at every flick of his wrist. By now, your hips were rocking in tandem with his fingers…slowly, as you didn’t want Kuroo or Bokuto to become aware of your antics. Kenma kept a steady pace as you lightly panted and pulled on his locks. Soon, it was all you could do not to moan out loud. 

“Mmph..I’m close, K-Kenma,” you semi-sobbed, head resting on his shoulder. 

“Shhh…I know pretty girl, I know. Keep it up, you’re doing so well,” He brushed the hair from your face, staring down at your contorted expression as tears started rolling down your cheeks from a mixture of pleasure and frustration. He figured he’d be sweet today and kept his words praising. Not to mention, he was at the mercy of your flushed face every time he egged you on. Usually, he would have teased some more, had you begging him to give you some relief, but he justified his niceties by you attempting to be as quiet as possible, which is hard when you’ve been with your boyfriend who knows you literally inside and out for so long. It doesn’t take long to finish when you know where to touch. 

Kenma wasn’t a monster, but maybe next time you two got caught up in the moment, he would up the stakes to see how much you could handle. 

You heard the actress on the screen yelp as she finished, and you swore that if you could be loud in this moment, you would be screaming as well. You bit down on your boyfriend’s shirt and clawed at his body. The hand that wasn’t deep in your pussy stroke your back in a soothing manner as your eyes closed from concentration. Kenma leaving open-mouthed kisses on your neck right below your jaw was your final straw. Your boyfriend quickly noticed and grabbed the blanket shielding the two of you to shove it into your mouth. It muffled some, but you still audibly whined and whimpered uncontrollably as juices coated Kenma’s hands. Your thighs shook as he slowed down his movements to elongate your release. He removed his fingers once your orgasm finished and licked them clean, all while you stared up at him with a hazy look in your eyes. 

“You did so well,” He purred into your ear, making you blush a little at the praise. He helped you readjust your panties and shorts before you sat comfortably on his lap, enjoying the last half-hour of the film. Luckily this was enough time for his dick to soften, and you both got up to thank Kuroo and Bokuto for coming. Ushering them out the door, you two were finally alone. Kenma was already sitting back on the couch, exiting out of the movie by the time you had finished locking up the house. You walked over to him until you were standing directly between his legs. He looked up at you nervously as you looked at him through your eyelashes. He swallowed and blinked at your sly expression before asking a timid, “What’s up?” 

You leaned over him, pressing down on his dick print while your other hand went to his throat. “You didn’t think we were done, did you? I still need to return the favor~.”

Author's Note: Hi guys! This is my FIRST fic, and I'm just starting out this account! Please let me know if you have constructive criticism, as I will gladly take it in order to improve! This fic was EXTREMELY self-indulgent...I will probably focus on writing for Kenma in the future, but I'm totally open to headcanons/thirsts/ideas on other characters. Just reach out. It might be on a case-by-case basis, but I aim to please! I hope this doesn't suck, and I can't wait to write in the future. -xoxo Aqua

Divider Credit: ♡https://www.tumblr.com/anitalenia?source=share ♡https://www.tumblr.com/icheries?source=share ♡(Anitalenia on Tumblr!) (icheries on Tumblr!)

As always, likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated!

[valentoshi]

spiral

pairing : bokuto kotaro x reader

warnings : none, fluff and comfort and a moody bokuto.

author's note : WHY IS TS BUNS AGAIN. i did nawt proof read this..anywho...LOWK was sat around for four days farting about sorry gang..

the match had been good. almost perfect, they’d won in straight sets and completely pummelled the other team.

except bokuto kotaro, your loud and energetic husband, had been off his game today. majorly. he’d massed up serves and spikes and in total had given the other team around eleven or twelve points across the sets on his mess ups alone.

it was no secret that kotaro got unreally moody when he messed up, even if his team were winning.

the MSBY black jackals, always looking for an excuse to not cook, decided to go out for a celebratory dinner for winning the game and advancing to the next round. naturally, bokuto tagged along, but he visibly was not in the mood to celebrate when he had done so poorly. after all, as he viewed it, why should someone who played so shocking celebrate that.

“bokuto doesn’t looks very happy about our win.” the ginger one whispered to his setter, atsumu, stating the obvious.

“he did have a pretty rocky match.” the other whispered back.

“should we call his wife?”

“probably.”

it was a tried and true method for dealing with bokutos mood swings. the moment you got there he would brighten up, just a little bit, then he would become moody again and then you would tell him something, exactly what he needed to hear, then he would cheer up, be the life of the celebration and then leave early.

atsumu, ever the tease, approached bokuto ever so slowly, sarcasticallytentative, as though he was approaching a hostile animal.

“do you want us to call your wife?” he asked, he tone almost riddled with amusement.

bokutos head shot up, his mopey expression being replaced by a deadpan, as if the answer were the most obvious thing in the whole world. he slouched in his chair just a little, his arms coming to cross over his chest.

“obviously.” he clicked his tongue and looked away, his bottom lip sticking out ever so slightly, the arms crossed on his chest tightened.

hinata nodded grabbing his phone and slipping away from the table to call bokuto’s wife. when he returned bokuto check his phone once, then twice, then a third time. then he was groaning, grumpily stuffing his phone into his pocket and folding his arms again.

all he wanted to do was see you, hear your words, get your reassurance. he wanted you to tell him that it was okay that he played poorly because they won and he still got a lot of points.

you chose to focus more on getting there rather than talking to him over text when you’d gotten the call. what you hadn’t accounted for was how antsy that would make bokuto.

when you finally pushed the door open, letting the cold air flow into the restaurant, your eyes scanned the room. you shrugged your coat off as your eyes landed on bokuto. he was still looking off to the wall, not paying any mind to the person who had just walked in. you couldn’t help but laugh.

you found it almost endearing how bokuto got like this. it wasn’t just an on court thing either, getting mopey over messing up was something he had done since the day you met him.

one time, you recall, he’d taken you on a date it hadn’t gone quite to plan and ended in you both sat in a greasy burger joint. there wasn’t a single complaint from you, all you wanted was to spend time with him.

but bokuto?

he was kissing his lips and looking around, slouched in his chair the same way he always did, pouting and mumbling about how he could ‘do so much better than this’ and how this ‘wasn’t what he planned’ and how ‘nothing was fair’ because ‘this wasn’t going his way’.

you made your way over to the table, a hand gently falling on his shoulder. his head snapped towards you as if to chew you out for touching him, when he noticed that freshly done manicure of your.

his gaze dragged up to your face and he immediately lit up, grabbing you by your waist and pulling you close and hugging you.

then, just as fast as he had lit up, he deflated, becoming mopey again.

“you shouldn’t see me i’m a failure.” he pouted, his arms falling from around your waist.

you heaved sigh, shaking your head.

“come on, let’s get air.” you grabbed his wrist, dragging him towards the door. sometimes this part would get tricky if there was an audience so you opted for taking him outside into the cold.

once the door shut behind you both, tears began to bubble up in his eyes.

“Ko?”

“what?” he bit, bringing his hands up tot shove the tears off his cheeks.

“what’s wrong?” it was a stupid question in reality, you knew exactly what was wrong, you had watched the game from your office desk as you worked. you’d even winced and mumbled to yourself about how you would have at least some damage control tonight when he had completely messed up a serve, sending it clean out of bounds.

but for bokuto? all he needed was that question for him to wrap his arms around you sobbing into your chest.

“they shouldn’t set to me! i suck! and now im crying about it instead of getting better.”

that might have been one of the worst you’d ever seen him after a game. never the less you persisted, wrapping your arms around him and rubbing his back.

“you don’t suck.”

“yes i do!”

“no, you don’t.”

“i do—and now look! i’m crying about it like some baby. these tears mean nothing.” he babbled at you, you needed to snap him out quick, he was being stubborn.

“kotaro.”

“i’m stup—“

“bokuto kotaro.” you cut him off, that got his attention.

he looked up, fat tears sliding down his cheeks as he searched your face.

“these tears? they are not a weakness. they show how strong you are and how strong you’ve been. and when you’re done, look back and know that you were strong enough to overcome what you once thought to be impossible.”

that did it, that snapped him out of his head. he nodded slowly at you, the tears drying up as he moved back, hunching over on himself for just a moment before finally spreading his arms wide open, his chest pumped out and then he was bear hugging you.

“god, you always know just what to say!”

bokuto kotaro might be moody when things don’t go his way, he might spiral. but rest assured, you can always pull him out of his own head.

[zumicho]

SEASON ONE: EP2 — RED FLAGS ALL AROUND

it smells like seaweed.

no, this isn’t the ocean. the indoor kitchen has a nice enough view.

it smells like soy sauce too. add sesame oil, tuna, mayonnaise, and pickled plums to the mix. osamu’s hands are busy — assembling and flipping, wiping beads of sweat off his forehead with the back of his palm, adjusting the MSBY baseball cap that neatly tucks his choppy summer cut away. he looks in his element. a chef? father of two? one of those. she makes a mental note.

the porch floorboards creak: a signal for incoming trouble.

bokuto almost tumbles into the doorway as nishinoya follows close behind, both faces plastered with ear-wide grins.

bo - pupils the size of jupiter - juts out his finger. “look.”

two ladybugs, perched on the pad of his pointer.

“what you missed out on.” noya quips. one climbs into her palm.

“where’s shoyo?” she asks him.

the two give each other an uh oh face, then they’re sprinting back outside, knocking over a few articles of furniture before leaving her with him again.

osamu: who was previously oblivious to her presence (whether or not he was faking, is an entirely different conversation). was scoffing. “got stood up?”

she’s rolling her eyes. “why do you ask? going to play knight in shining armor and go with me instead?” the corners of her lips tug.

he’s dumbfounded. or so it seems. whatever it is — the silence is making her nauseous. did he not expect that? was it too much?

“jeez, can’t take a joke? I don’t go for guys with buzzcuts.” that’s not what she wanted to say. his hair looks.. fine. nice, even. still: there’s nothing more satisfying than landing a blow to a man’s ego. especially when the chance waves itself in front of your face.

samu opens his mouth, but her date’s walking down the steps before he can snark out a reply. her attention is diverted. stolen. there’s an odd weight in his chest when her back is turned toward him.

he decides he doesn’t like it.

they’re exchanging a look. unreadable. he’s watching (involuntarily). she walks up closer, and for a moment — osamu freezes.

they’re going to kiss? when they just met?

her hand meets her hip.

“why are you wearing a tie to the beach?”

osamu is wrong.

kuroo goes pale.

author’s note: I’m aware the pacing for the last chapter was rough, there will be improvements trust 🤝 I tried writing this from 3rd pov how do we like?? I want this to feel like watching a show

GUESTLIST @causenessus @guitarstringed-scars @cloudybillows @s1ckntw1st3d @suna-rins-sunshine @hyenagoated @hibernatinghamster @yogurtkags @acowboykisser @yukatoraa @fishrene @iwaizluv @iluvmang @neoclb @kr1nqu @lvtilzs @wave2mia @zahrawr-writes-fanfics @bubooo @bectoshi @gra-eae @cr4yolaas @cloooudddy1 @jaynawayna @ryuverse @miliondollagirl @soulfullystarry @fiannee @yumiecheesecrackers @ast4rg1rl @eujoana89 @whenanafallsinlove @arraxthatsonjah @staileykout @kaiiibxby @miiyas @serossidechick @chososcamgirl @yuminako @diorzs @muyyie @krissiekris

[sippy--sippy]

Page Turner (Kageyama Tobio x Reader) Part 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🫐~🫐~🫐~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Summary: You attend Kageyama's championship game and meet his rowdy friends. Word Count: 5,238 Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

A/N: Fanart credit to the Haikyuu pookie bear herself: Loony (Z) on TikTok and freaka_loonyz on Instagram. Go support her work, I drool over every post.

-

You knew volleyball had a burst of popularity in the past couple years thanks to the rumor of a “monster generation” of new players, but the sheer volume of people flocking to the gymnasium for this championship game was actually astounding. Every parking lot around the area was packed to the brim, any street parking available was filled bumper to bumper and bus and train loads of people were arriving every few minutes. Luckily, you had the sense to take a bus yourself instead of driving because you would’ve turned right back around and gone home the second you saw how congested everything was.

Currently, you were planted on the edge of a fountain that sat right outside the front doors of the stadium, waiting for your escort. Kageyama was unfortunately not able to meet up with you before the game started so he told you one of his friends was going to meet you outside the stadium to help you to your seat. He had failed to give you a name or description of the person you were supposed to meet so you weren’t entirely sure how you were supposed to find his friend. 

The swarms of people around you seemed never ending. The match was scheduled to start in a half an hour but that didn’t stop people from rushing inside like they were about to miss the game. Lots of people wore or brought Adler’s merchandise. Jerseys, t-shirts, hats, flags and posters, some merchandise donning specific players names and numbers. You were surprised to see an alarming amount of people with Kageyama jerseys and signs. Maybe you should’ve run to one of the merchandise booths and purchased a shirt or something beforehand since you seemed to be one of the only people here without an Adler’s souvenir. 

Fiddling with the string of the white hoodie you wore, you sat and watched the masses as you waited for Kageyama’s friend to hopefully find you. 5 minutes passed. Then 10. Then 10 more. The large concrete entrance to the building was now almost completely empty, as most had gone inside to find their seats. The game was supposed to start in 5 minutes and you were STRESSED. Maybe Kageyama’s friend forgot they were supposed to meet you here and was already inside. It shouldn’t be that hard to find your seat on your own, right? Plus, if you had trouble you were sure there was a worker somewhere that could show you the way.

Standing up, you brushed off your black jeans and started to walk towards the front doors. Before you could get there, the sound of someone’s shoes slapping on the pavement rang in your ears. You turned around and saw someone running towards you. It was a man wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses, sweatpants and a black and gold t-shirt, a black athletic jacket gripped in his hand. 

As he got closer, you could see he was actually quite short. Despite his smaller than average stature, you could tell this boy never skipped the gym. His arms were beautifully tanned and toned, and his tight t-shirt hugged him in all the right places. What was it with these men you’ve been meeting lately? Were they trying to give you a heart attack?

When the man approached you, he skidded to a stop and heaved a sigh of relief. He was horribly out of breath, sweat beading on his forehead. How long had he been running? He hunched over and put his hands on his knees, trying to slow his breathing. 

“I... I’m so sorry ... that I’m late,” each pause in his sentence was a gasp of air. “I missed the bus… so… I had to run here.”

With a heave, he straightened up and sighed. He took off his sunglasses and slipped them to rest on his shirt. He then took off his hat so he could wipe at his forehead with the back of his hand. You were surprised to find he had a shocking head of orange hair. He set the hat back on his head and held out his hand to you with a beaming smile.

“You’re (Y/n), right? My name is Hinata Shoyo! It’s nice to meet you! Tobio’s told me a lot about you and he’s very happy you’re here!”

You shook his hand in wonder at both this guy’s joyful personality (completely opposite of Kageyama’s) and his statement. Kageyama was talking to his friend about you? You turned red at the thought. 

“I am (Y/n) and it’s nice to meet you Hinata! And don’t worry about being late, I’m just glad you made it here in one piece! I’ve missed the bus before and it screws up my whole day. How far did you have to run to get here?”

He swats the air as if brushing off your concern, “Just a couple miles, no big deal!” He looks down at the watch that sits on his wrist and his eyes widen. “Crap! The game starts in a couple minutes, we gotta hurry so we don’t miss their entrance!”

He snatches your hand and starts jogging through the open doors as if he didn’t just run a half marathon to get here. Taking an immediate right as soon as you walked inside, he led you up a flight of stairs and to a set of doors that lead into the stadium. Hinata held the door for you and you stepped into the most crowded sports event you had ever been to. Almost every seat in the balcony was taken and the energy was palpable. Luckily, the teams weren’t on the court yet but that didn’t mean the crowd was any less rowdy. 

You followed Hinata down the stairs that split the dense crowd to the very first row of seats overlooking the whole court. Kageyama really did give you a ticket for one of the best seats in the whole gym. The section was right in the middle of the two sides, which will give you the perfect vantage point to watch both teams. 

Once you both reach the bottom, a chorus of “hey’s” rang out from the people who were already sitting in the row. Getting a look at the four people who said hello, you almost fainted. 

What were they putting in the water on this side of Tokyo? 

Four more gorgeous men were inspecting you curiously from their seats. Two of them were giving you the biggest grins, one gave you a small smile and the last man had a black mask covering half his face so you couldn’t get a good read on his facial expression. 

Hinata stepped aside and presented you as if you were a trophy. “Everyone meet (Y/n)! This is Tobio’s friend. (Y/n), this is Sakusa, Atsumu, Bokuto and Akaashi. We’re all good friends of Tobio’s.”

You studied each man as Hinata went down the line of them so you could try to remember their names. Sakusa, who was sitting in the aisle seat you stood next to, was the one wearing the mask. He had wavy black hair and two prominent moles above his right eyebrow. From what you could see of his face, he didn’t seem like he was too thrilled to be there. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his long coat and he was shrunken into himself, seemingly touching as little of the chair as possible. He gave you a small nod when Hinata introduced him but didn’t say anything.

The guy sitting next to him, Atsumu, was much more lively. His hair was mostly covered from a hat that he was wearing backwards but you could see small hints of pale yellow hair peeking out. He leaned over Sakusa to shake your hand (Sakusa grumbled in annoyance) and gave you a flirty grin.

“Nice to meet ya, sweetheart. I’m Atsumu. Glad to hear that Kageyama’s not completely hopeless in his romantic life-“

Sakusa stomped on Atsumu’s foot which promptly stopped his comments. Atsumu whined in pain and hunched over to hold in his yell of agony.

Two empty seats sat in between Atsumu and the next man which you and Hinata shuffled in to take. You took off your heavy gray coat before settling down in your chair between Hinata and Atsumu. After settling your coat into your lap, you leant forward to formally meet the other two.

“Hey hey hey! Nice to meet you (Y/n)! I’m Bokuto and this is Akaashi.” he slung his arm around Akaashi’s shoulder, forcing him to lean forward to see you. Akaashi gave you a gentle smile which you returned.

Bokuto was the largest of the bunch, hefting around a broad set of beautiful shoulders that almost made you drool. He also wore a hat but it didn’t do a very effective job of hiding his eye-catching black and white hair. He was the only one of the four that wore something Adler’s themed, which was a scarf with their team logo on it. 

Akaashi was the most classically handsome of them. Dark hair, blue eyes and a set of glasses. He seemed much more soft spoken compared to his counterpart. You could’ve sworn you’d seen him before too.

“Nice to meet you both! This is the first time I’ve ever been to a professional volleyball game so I’m very excited to be here. It was so nice of Kageyama to give me a ticket. I hope I’m not a bother to any of you. I’m pretty clueless so I might have some questions.” you lightly laughed.

Both Bokuto and Akaashi smiled and Bokuto opened his mouth to say something but Atsumu cut him off. Atsumu draped his arm over the back of your chair and leaned in so he could be a part of the conversation.

“Volleyball virgin, huh? Don’t worry beautiful, any questions you have can be directed to yours truly-“

Sakusa stomped on his foot once more and Atsumu jolted back in his seat, squeezing his eyes shut and sucking in air through his teeth to stop from screaming. 

“Could you stop doing that?! I need this foot y’know!”

Sakusa paid him no mind. Akaashi spoke up from your right. “Ignore him. Anyways, you work at that library next to the University right? I went to school there and came to your library to find some books for class sometimes. Your library was always my favorite, very clean and inviting.”

You thought he looked familiar! Especially with his looks. Not an easy face to forget. “Yes! I thought I recognized you. I’m glad my library made you feel that way, that’s what I strive for! Kageyama told me something similar.”

Hinata nodded and smiled at you. “That’s where you guys met, right?”

You nodded in turn. “Yep!”

Before any more conversation could be had, an announcer started speaking over the loudspeaker and the crowd went nuts. Honestly, you couldn’t hear a word the announcer said but eventually the team from America started walking out in a single file line to the court. They had red uniforms and varied in size, hair and skin color. All of them looked very menacing as they walked out.

Once they were lined up, the crowd went crazy once again as the Adlers started making their entrance. Everyone around you stood up so you followed their lead, clapping as the team walked out. Atsumu, Hinata and Bokuto were hooting and hollering. The team walked in number order so Kageyama was one of the last to walk out but once he did, your heart stopped.

You thought he looked good in the grainy picture you saw on the poster, but seeing him in person in uniform? Your knees were jelly.

He had the same stoic face, hair and eyes you were used to seeing. The rest of his body though? It was a real treat to see him without a giant coat and baggy sweatpants. His jersey top was tight in all the right places, showing off just how muscular he really was. His shoulders were broad, biceps big, thighs even bigger. He was wearing knee pads and it looked like some of his fingers were wrapped in white tape.

He walked with a confidence you were envious of, and if he really was one of the best setters in Japan then he’s earned the right to look and be that confident. Once the team had lined up on their side of the court, the Adler’s gave the American team a bow as was customary. The Americans gave them a bow back to show their respects before they broke formation to ready up. 

Before the Adler’s began, they shuffled over to line up in front of the section of crowd you sat in. You watched as they all bowed in unison and yelled, “Thank you for coming!”

They straightened and Kageyama instantly found you in the crowd, front and center cheering for the team and watching him in awe. You both made eye contact and you gave him a smile and a small wave. You didn’t expect him to do anything back but the tiniest of smiles graced his lips and he gave you a small wave in return.

Your face burned fiercely, even more so when Atsumu elbowed your arm teasingly. It didn’t help when you took notice of the multiple news cameras stationed everywhere that definitely caught that. Oh god, hopefully the media doesn’t read into that too much.

The team broke to head to their starting positions. Most of the team went to the bench, but 6 of them took their spots on the court, including Kageyama. Beside you, Hinata hummed in confusion.

“Tobio is starting as the server? He’s usually in the setter position at the start of the game, right guys? Why is he serving first?”

The others agreed that he didn’t usually start the game serving but couldn’t see why the team would change their starting lineup for the championship game. After thinking for a second, Atsumu folded his arms and scoffed.

“I have a hunch why he’s serving first, vain bastard.” he grumbled.

You glanced at him curiously and watched Kageyama pace back behind the starting line. He bounced the volleyball on the floor a couple times, then spun the ball in his hands. Some sort of serving ritual, you guessed.

The crowd went quiet as the referee standing on a platform next to the net blew the starting whistle. Everyone watched with bated breath as Kageyama took his time, blowing out a calming breath before tossing the ball into the air. He took a couple steps, gaining speed as he jumped high into the air and hit the ball with so much power you could barely see the ball as it smashed down into the American’s court and bounced out.

The stadium went ballistic with cheers. Your volleyball knowledge was slim, but you could tell that was an insanely powerful serve. If you got a good look at the volleyball, there would probably be smoke coming off of it.

The men around you were cheering just as loud as everyone else, Bokuto and Hinata were especially rowdy. You were in awe. Kageyama looked so sure and powerful when he served. His form looked perfect. You instantly considered taking up professional photography just so you could capture those beautiful poses.

Everyone quieted down again as Kageyama returned to his serving position. He went through the same routine, bouncing and spinning the ball before serving once more.

Another no-touch service ace!

The crowd was inconsolable now. You were jumping up and down in happiness. You guessed getting no-touch service aces were not easy to do in the professional league. The opposing professional teams were too skilled at defense to allow more than one or two a game. 

But Kageyama managed to get 5 total service aces to start the game before the opposition was finally able to dig the ball and start volleying.

You didn’t doubt the American team was amazing at volleyball; they wouldn’t be here if they weren’t.  But something about Kageyama’s serves were fierce and according to Hinata, he’d never seen Kageyama have a serving streak like this before, especially since going pro.

As the play went on, you noticed Atsumu slouch in his chair and huff. “Show off.”

Hinata leaned over to you and whispered (not very quietly), “Tsumu and Kageyama have been competing for Japan’s best setter title for years. Kageyama always wins so Tsumu gets a little salty when he makes a good play. He’s just a little jealous-“

“ZIP IT SHO!”

You perked up at Hinata’s words and turned to a pouting Atsumu. “You play volleyball too?”

The sourness Atsumu was displaying vanished at your question and he ‘very casually’ put his hands on the back of his head, leaning back in pleasure. “Sure do, gorgeous. You’re looking at one of the nations best-”

“I play too! I’m a wing spiker!” Bokuto chirped to your right, a cheesy grin on his face. Hinata nodded and motioned to himself and pointed down at Sakusa.

“Us too! Omi and I are wing spikers as well. We’re all on Japan’s MSBY Black Jackals team!”

Well, this was shocking news. It made sense though, seeing how physically fit they all were and if they were good friends with Kageyama you assumed they met through volleyball. You had heard about the MSBY Black Jackals before on the news. They sounded like a rowdy, go-lucky team who’s games were extremely fun to watch. And now knowing these guys were on the team, the rumors were probably true. 

Now that you knew, you noticed that they weren’t necessarily being very discreet about their professional volleyball status. Hinata was wearing a MSBY t-shirt and the hat Atsumu wore had the MSBY logo plastered on the front of it.

“Oh! Really? That’s awesome! You guys will have to tell me all about how you guys met and started playing volleyball. I’ve heard MSBY is pretty famous for their exciting games, I’ll have to come watch one some time!”

They all agreed, promising you front row tickets to come see them play. Atsumu commented on how they could give Kageyama a ticket too and the two if you could make a date out of it which made your face burn. 

Speaking of Kageyama, it was hard for you to take your eyes off him as the set continued. His sets were unlike anything you’d ever seen. They were so calculated and clean. He sent the ball perfectly to the spikers almost every time, tapping into each player's potential. He made it look so easy, but you knew this was the outcome of years of training and practice. Not only were his sets beautifully executed, any spikes, receives or blocks he did were also perfect. 

Akaashi, who was comfortably settled under Bokuto’s arm that was draped across his shoulders, mentioned that Kageyama was playing better today than he has in quite a while. Not only was he doing well, it seemed his whole team was on their game. Especially the big burly guy, Ushijima and the short, springy white haired guy, Hoshiumi. 

The Adler’s won the first set with ease, prompting the crowd to cheer wildly. The team gathered in a circle on the sidelines to have a little time-out before they had to start the second set.

You watched with clenched fists as Kageyama took a big swig of water, sweat dripping down his neck and soaking into the small white towel that was thrown over his shoulders. He then used that towel to wipe his damp face. While he did so, you noticed him glance towards your section.

Lord, you hoped he didn’t see you ogling at the sight of him. 

Of course, the all observant Kageyama did notice and the bastard had the audacity to wink.

Your hands instantly started sweating and Atsumu blanched at the interaction. “When did Tobio get so good at turning on the charm?! He’s got the same personality as a potted plant. What have the Adler’s been feeding him?”

The start of the second set wasn’t as successful as the first; the American team seemed to have adapted to Kageyama’s monster serves. Both teams were scoring points pretty evenly and before you knew it, it was a deuce. 24-24, the first team to get two points over the other wins the set.

The crowd was standing again, watching anxiously as the little wing spiker, Hoshiumi, went up against a 3 man block. You were sure his spike was about to get stuffed, but to your surprise he jumped higher than the block and spiked it into their court. How someone could jump so high was beyond you.

Now it was 25-24, one more point and they’d win the championship! Kageyama was in the setter’s position, carefully watching the opposing team with his hands on the back of his head as Ushijima served the ball. It was a brutal serve but the Americans dug it up, beginning the volley. They managed a fierce spike but the Adler’s libero managed to save it. The ball arced perfectly to Kageyama as he prepared to set it.

You tried to pinpoint who he would send it to, who would have the best chance at scoring the winning point. Hoshiumi seemed to be a good choice as he ran forward to the net, as well as one of their other teammates Romero who was another fierce spiker and the team’s ace. 

You held your breath as Kageyama jumped to set the ball, watching in what felt like slow motion as the ball settled into the cradle of his slim fingers. However, surprising everyone in the arena, Kageyama’s set turned into a dump. 

No one on the other team could react fast enough as the ball fell in their court and Kageyama gracefully settled back on the floor. For the 100th time that evening, the crowd erupted. Kageyama’s team jumped on him, mussing up his hair and slapping him on the back.

You were jumping up and down, cheering just as loud as those around you. The men around you were also showing their approval in their own ways. Hinata was doing the same as you, Bokuto was yelling praises, Akaashi was politely clapping, Sakusa wasn’t doing much but had at least stood up with everyone. Atsumu was clapping but it seemed a little sarcastic.

“Tobio’s got a pair, I’ll give him that. Finishing the whole game with’a dump? Risky move.”

“He’s amazing!” you said. Atsumu groaned and tilted his head back.

“Eugh, whatever.”

Once both teams had pulled themselves together, the crowds politely clapped for the American team and the good game they played. Then the Adlers lined up to bow to the crowd again in thanks for the support. Kageyama seeked you out again in the stands and softly smiled as he bowed. 

The stands started to thin out as the spectators left. You and the boys stayed for a while, chatting about their volleyball careers and learning more about them while they asked you questions about your life. 

Once most of the people had left and the teams had gone to the locker rooms to freshen up, the boys led you outside of the court and down to the large front entrance of the building. You wandered over to look at a large trophy case that lined the wall. To your surprise, Kageyama was in a couple of the pictures holding a trophy. The Adler’s were quite the powerhouse team, it seemed.

You felt someone sidle up to you, and you turned to smile up at Kageyama. He was still wearing his white uniform and GOD were his thighs always that big? He wore a white jacket over the top of his jersey and his hair was messier than normal, like he had hastily run a towel through it. You catched a whiff of cologne that had a slight undertone of sweat. Why that attracted you to him so much more, you weren’t sure.

“Hey! You were amazing out there! You’ll have to give me a list of your games because I want to come to all of them if they’re all like that!” you exclaimed. 

Kageyama watched you carefully and nodded seriously. “I can do that. I can’t promise they’ll all be that close, but you can come to any games you want and I’ll make sure you get front row seats.”

You blushed at his intensity. “T-That would be awesome!”

You didn’t know what else to say. Kageyama looked you over and held out something in his hand. “I got this for you.”

It was some sort of article of clothing. Taking it from him, you opened it up and couldn’t help but grinning. It was an Adler’s jersey, a professional looking one at that, not one that was sold in bulk at the merchandise stands. Low and behold, instead of being a generic team jersey, Kageyama was written in bold letters on the back with the number 20 printed loud and proud on the front and back.

“SUBTLE, TOBIO. REAL SUBTLE.” Atsumu yelled from where the others stood across the room. Sakusa yanked on Atsumu’s hat, pulling his head back which made him yelp.

Kageyama was bright red and grumbled strings of curses at Atsumu. Surprising him and even yourself, you wrapped your arms around his torso in a tight hug as a thanks. Kageyama tensed, not knowing what to do for a second. You didn’t even notice, too busy reveling in how solid his body was.

Hesitantly, Kageyama wrapped his arms around your shoulders. You even felt him gently rest his cheek on top of your head. You wished you could stay like this forever. He was so warm and comfortable, even though he was a brick wall of muscle.

“Thank you. For the jersey and for inviting me. I had a great time! Your friends are really fun too.”

He pulled back from the hug and held you by your shoulders, suddenly looking very concerned. “They didn’t say anything weird did they? Did Atsumu hit on you? I told him that if he did, he’ll never be a setter on the Olympic team ever again.”

You laughed and brought your hands up to lightly hold his wrists. “They were all very sweet, even Atsumu. He called me sweetheart once but that’s-“

A glint of pure fury shone in Kageama’s eyes as his head snapped over to Atsumu. All of the men had been trying to make it not look obvious that they were trying to stare and eavesdrop on your conversation. A visible shudder of terror shook Atsumu as Kageyama, gentle as one ever could, moved you to the side then shot towards Atsumu like a bullet. You could’ve sworn you saw flames on the ground as he sprinted to the artificial blonde. Atsumu let out a yell of terror as he took off in the opposite direction, Kageyama inches behind him.

“What did I do?!” You heard Atsumu yell as they ran down the hall. You smiled and walked back to the other men, who were also chuckling.

Hinata motioned to the jersey you held in your hands. “That’s one of his actual jerseys! He must like you a whole lot to just give that to you right out the gate.”

You inspected the jersey in your hands and rubbed your fingers over the silky fabric. If you weren’t surrounded by Kageyama’s best friends, you would’ve dug your nose into it to see if it smelled like him. “I’ve never owned a jersey before, real or not.”

Sakusa, surprisingly, spoke up. “You should tell him that. He’ll eat that up.”

You smiled as you watched Kageyama chase Atsumu down, yelling things you couldn’t quite make out. This group was fun, you decided. Hopefully you’d be able to see them more, and you hoped Kageyama wouldn’t become a stranger.

-

You held your hands over your mouth as you watched the Adler’s and Black Jackals fight furiously over the volleyball. It wasn’t a championship game, or any type of game that held any real meaning in a tournament but that didn’t make the game any less intense. Knowing their rivalry and the companionships each team had, had you on your toes. The Adler’s were, yet again, one point away from winning. The teams had gone back and forth for the third and final set, fighting to see who could get two points over the other first.

This volley was lasting forever, and each team was getting desperate. The teams were getting sloppy. Akaashi, who stood beside you, pointed out as much, flinching when Bokuto almost missed a rushed set by Atsumu completely. It was hard, routing for both teams. Unfortunately, only one team could win and by the large jersey you wore, anyone could guess who you were slightly favoring. 

Ushijima dug up the ball where Bokuto spiked it, however the power of the spike made his receive sloppy, sending the ball sailing towards the front left corner of their court. That didn’t stop Tobio from running towards the rogue ball. It was outside the court by now but still on their side. A set from this far away wasn’t easy to do, but Tobio always managed. A perfect set sent right to the Adler’s ace, Romero. MSBY had a three-man block on him, but Romero perfectly spiked the ball in such a way that it bounced off Sakusa’s fingertips and fell out of bounds. 

Springing to your feet, you whistled loudly and shouted your praise at your team. Another great game. You never got tired of games that made your blood pressure reach dangerous levels. MSBY lined up to bow to the crowd, and you didn’t hesitate to scream your praises for them too. After bowing, Hinata and Bokuto waved happily up at you (Bokuto blew a kiss to Akaashi first of course). Atsumu sent you a wink, which you rolled your eyes at. Sakusa gave you a small nod in hello. The black jackals then left to finish up for the day while the Adler’s took their place on the line.

Your gaze met Tobio’s soft blue stare as he looked up at you, a little smile on his face just for your viewing pleasure. He bowed with the rest of his team before standing up straight and giving you one last look before he had to go to the post-game huddle. You copied Bokuto’s move and blew him a small kiss. Tobio, sweet as ever, very nonchalantly pretended to catch it. The golden engagement ring that swung from a chain around his neck glinted in the light of the gym as he turned to run back to his team.

Not a day goes by that you don’t thank the gods above for sending that handsome man to your library.

-

A/N : “Atsumu is such a loser” I say as I trip and fall, hundreds of pictures of Atsumu falling out of my giant coat pockets. But yeah Atsumu fic is in the works, as well as a Brazil Hinata fic too because I’m such a MSBY whore. The last part (probably) to this story is already finished, just in the editing process and psst it’s smut. Anyways, thanks for reading! Like comment and subscribe

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

Breaking Through:

Future Mrs. Sakusa

Sakusa Kiyoomi x Fem! Reader (she/her)

Warnings: mild swearing, all fluff

AN: this is an anon request and a sequel to Being Itachiyama’s Manager: Breaking through Sakusa’s Walls. I did change up the request a little from proposing at a game to a more private proposal just because it fit with the scenario a little better 🥰

Well congrats Yn 👏🏻

You’ve made it through your first year as MSBY’s manager

Honestly, your survival wasn’t assured

I mean, just look at the working hazards

*cough* BOKUTO, ATSUMU AND HINATA *cough*

If you don’ constantly hear, “yN i NeEd HeLp” 🙄

But seriously though, acclimating to this team wasn’t your only chore

You were also navigating your relationship with MSBY Spiker, Kiyoomi Sakusa

Now as we all know, you and Sakusa have been dating for quite a while

High school, college and now pro-volleyball

Seriously it’s been almost like 5 years that’s you’ve been hanging onto Sakusa

It hasn’t always been easy

His constant concern for germs and his annoyance of his idiotic teammates were a struggle

You’d gone through some tough times in college and beyond

Dealing with losses of games and a grueling Olympic journey

It was a lot to say the very least but your love and commitment to Kiyoomi held strong 💪🏻

Now Sakusa knew he wasn’t an easy person to deal with

Heck before you came along, Komori was literally the only one who could deal with him

You might have been the opposite of him but you meshed well

You learned to deal with his quirks and his need to cleanliness

He learned to deal with you and your extreme desire to keep Hinata, Bokuto and Atsumu alive 🙄

He knew you were the one a long time ago and he loved/adored you more than anything!

He had long been thinking about the next step but he wanted it to be perfect

He knew you deserved the best and he was going to give it to you

He had been saving up for a ring for a while now and he’d managed to keep it all a secret

Until one day when Meian and his girlfriend announced their engagement during practice

He watched as you became so excited for them, giving them hugs and admiring the ring on her finger

“It’s gorgeous!! Shugo you did such a great job!” You cried as you celebrated for your friends and teammates

Sakusa couldn’t help but imagine how excited you would be for your own engagement to him

He loved the idea how you wearing his ring and eventually his last name

And Sakusa wasn’t the only one to notice your excitement 👀

Because Atsumu had seen it as well and being the little shit he is, he most DEFINITELY was going to bring it up

“Sooooo Omi, when are you gonna put a ring on YN’s finger?” Atsumu asked later in the locker room as the team changed

You were happily cleaning up the gym like you did normally, clueless to the entertainment behind closed doors

“Sumu back off! Don’t pressure him,” Barnes scolded as Sakusa tried to ignore Atsumu

Way easier said than done 🙄

“What? I saw how excited Yn looked when she saw that ring! You can tell she’s itching to get engaged. Come on man, it’s been what, like 5 years with her? Don’t you think it’s time to lock her down?”

An audible sigh filled the locker room as everyone tried hard to ignore Atsumu

Again, easier said than done…

“YN doesn’t care about stuff like that! She’s loved Omi and I’m sure she’d be happy if they never got married,” Shion adds as Atsumu shakes his head

“Whatever you guys say but I know women and women want diamonds!”

“Says the man who can’t lock down a girlfriend to save his life,” Meian interjected at the locker room burst into laughter

Sakusa shut his locker, not making a sound as he made his way to the showers

Unbeknownst to the guys, he’d been thinking about asking you and with your anniversary approaching, he thought it would be perfect

Since he didn’t want the stress and potential cover of his operation to be blown, he asked Komori for help

He wanted to make your engagement perfect

He’d come up with the perfect idea and he made the plans to the T

On your anniversary, he texted you saying he got caught up with volleyball stuff and that Komori would drive you too the restaurant

You agreed because you truly believed Kiyoomi was busy

But when Komori pulled up to Itachiyama’s volleyball gym, you looked at him confused

He just shrugged as you narrowed your eyes and got out of the car

You were wearing a beautiful dress, looking like an absolute dream as you walked to the doors

Getting closer, you noticed a picture on the door

It was a team picture from your second year at Itachiyama when you had first met Kiyoomi

You smiled at the picture, remembering how you first grew attracted to the finicky winged spiker

Opening the door, you saw candles, flowers and what looked to be an aisle lined with photographs

You made your way thought the gym, looking at every picture and reliving every memory

They were all pictures come your relationship with Kiyoomi

Your first date, graduation, first apartment, and first day with MSBY

Your eyes began to well with tears as you relived all the memories

Looking over, you saw Kiyoomi standing at the end, looking extremely handsome in a gorgeous suit

“Kiyoomi, this is beautiful!” You cried as he smiled and wiped your tear away

“That’s not all Yn,” he said, getting on one knee as your eyes widened and your mouth fell open

“YN LN, I’ve known since high school that you were the one for me. You’ve put up with me for years, supported me in everything I do and I couldn’t ask for better life partner. Would you do me the ultimate honor and marry me?” He recited perfectly as you nodded, tears streaming down your eyes as you cried tears of joy

He slipped the beautiful ring on your finger and stood to his full height of 6 FOOT 4 INCHES and kissed you 🥹

Honestly dreams!

You spent the night and weekend celebrating with your new fiancé before venturing back to work Monday morning

Sakusa was actually shocked that you’d somehow managed to keep your engagement a secret

Only your families and of course, Komori knew

But that went all out the window the moment you stepped into the gym

“STEP OUT OF THE WAY LOSERS BECAUSE IM THE FUTURE MRS. KIYOOMI SAKUSA!” You screamed, showing your rock to everyone within your eyesight

Bokuto and Hinata 👉🏻🥹🥹😭😭

Meian, Inunaki, Barnes and Thomas 👉🏻🥳🍾🎉

Atsumu 👉🏻😏

Sakusa 👉🏻 😐🙄

Don’t worry Yn, he’s secretly so happy 🥰

[the-cosmic-teapot]

Eternity and So Much More

Bokuto x reader

WC: 2392

TW: Self doubt, insecurity, marriage talk, long term commitment, reader needs a hug and kiss, bokuto is amazing and really affirming, I tried to keep this as gender neutral as possible (engagement ring description, but not story crucial-like a sentence max) , open ended

*proof read by my man in arts husband, its his fault for typos :)

Summary: Bokuto had a very important question to ask you, but you don't see yourself in the best light.

A/N: Hi pals, this is my first time publishing anything outside of a really cringy period on Wattpad when I was 13 (no longer available for my own sanity). I am not typically a writer, so I apologize in advance, but I love Bokuto so much yeah. I hope you like this! Feedback is always welcome!

~Cosmic

Being in a relationship with a pro athlete is difficult because more times than not, they prioritize their careers. It’s what they have been working towards for the longest time and they will do almost anything to stay on the court. This is especially true with one, Bokuto Koutaro. You could ask anyone about the large, owlish man and his devotion to volleyball; they would all say the same thing: he is meant to be on the court. Knowing this did not stop you from being in a relationship with him. If anything there was a sense of pride because of his passion for the sport. There were countless missed dinners and events because of extra practice, but this did little to dissuade you from falling for the outside hitter. With all of the missed dates there were  thoughtful gifts or a lavish trip with him for time together to make up his absences. 

You knew it was coming, Bokuto's proposal, because he is not the most subtle person and he is not great at hiding things. It had been about a week prior when you found the ring in his sock drawer when doing his laundry.  It was a beautiful, yet simple princess cut diamond ring with a few accent stones around it, and here you are, at dinner with Bokuto and some friends, both old and new. Most of the night was filled with laughter and smiles, as is most of the time with Bokuto, except this time there was a pit in your stomach you couldn’t explain. Was it something you ate? Maybe it was social anxiety from being around all of Bokuto's high school friends, who you’ve seen on a few occasions. You only really knew Akaashi because of how close he was with Bokuto. Yet, in spite of this feeling you pushed through dinner with a smile.

As the appetizers and entrees came and went Bokuto insisted on getting dessert for everyone. The pair of you settled on a chocolate cake with ice cream. While the desserts were being prepared Bokuto gathered the attention of everyone and began speaking of the love he has for you, and your beauty. As he continued his speech, the pit grew deeper and deeper. His little speech concluded in tandem with the arrival of dessert, where you saw the same ring that was hidden among his socks sitting on the top of the cake slice. Then you look at Bokuto already on one knee as he asks the question, “Will you marry me?”

At this moment you didn’t have any words. Why weren’t you saying anything? Could you say anything at all?

~~

The first day of your third year at university felt the same as the others. You noted that campus was a bit livelier than normal, but this would surely die down after a couple of weeks as people lost motivation to go to class. As you walked into your first lecture hall you chose your seat with care as you would be using it for the rest of the semester. After all, humans are creatures of habit. 

When you stepped outside of the lecture hall at the end of class, you could swear you felt like a mummy leaving its crypt and stepping into the sun for the first time. Apparently you stood in place a second too long because a large man was not paying attention at the stop in traffic and bumped into your back causing you to trip and fall. As you stood back up and turned to face the cause of your fall he immediately began apologizing and saying he will buy you coffee or a pastry as his way of apologizing. Initially stunned by the sudden change in your position to seeing a large man practically on his hands and knees begging for your forgiveness for a small nudge was, admittedly, quite a scene to behold. You insisted that you were okay and there were no bruises or scratches, but he looked like a kicked puppy saying something about how he has harmed you and his mother and sisters will certainly skin him alive for not making it up to you. So you agreed to his offer of coffee, seeing as you do not have class for another hour and a half. On the walk over to the cafe you learn his name, Bokuto, and he is a starter for the men's volleyball team. 

~~

Everyone was staring at you now, waiting for an answer. You see the glints of love and true passion in Bukotos eyes; the same look he has when he plays volleyball. Why couldn’t you say anything? What was wrong with you? Here there is a man who loves you, and all you can do is just stand there. Thoughts of inadequacy swarm your mind; you’ll never be pretty enough, you’ll never be charismatic enough, you’ll never be enough for him. 

~~

  After getting coffee with Bokuto, he seemed to be part of your life. Initially it was small things like him asking you to study with him because he “gets distracted, and it is nice to have someone to keep him on track”. This typically ended with getting nothing done because of how easy conversations flowed with him. Eventually this turned into movie nights with his friends. By the end of that semester the two of you were practically inseparable. 

Sometime during the break you realized how you had grown to care for this large puppy of a man. Your days away from campus, as well as Bokuto, seemed more dreary, like something was missing. The days away made you truly notice an absence you didn’t know you could miss. Despite this, you still managed to have a relaxing break.

Bokuto was also stuck with his thoughts of you and what you were doing. He misses your smile and laugh, he misses how you would roll your eyes at some dumb joke he had made, but most of all, he misses how you care about him. Through high school he was used to girls flocking to him because of his volleyball talent, but none of them seemed to care about who he was as a person. You care about him as Bokuto Kotaro, not Bokuto Kotaro the volleyball powerhouse. You care about the little things, ensuring he stayed hydrated and made sure he always had someone cheering him on. He loved those things about you.

By the time you got back to campus and got fully moved into your new dormroom, Bokuto called and asked to get lunch because he was, as always, starving. By the end of the lunch you were sure Bokuto enjoyed your presence because of how he mentioned it at least five times when walking you home. As you get to your complex's door you debate inviting Bokuto in to watch a movie or something, but a small voice crept in saying that he probably had other, better things to be doing. So you bid him a farewell and went up alone. 

~~

As Bokuto stares at you with anticipation and nothing but adoration in his eyes staring into your own, you are at war with your insecurities. How could he want you in that way? It wasn't because you were the prettiest or because you were the most popular. It definitely wasn’t because you were the best at anything; what was it? You know he loves you, but honestly you don’t fully understand why. 

After about a minute of staring at you Bokuto began to feel a pit form in his stomach, a rare feeling for him that he wasn’t too familiar with. The last time this happened was when he asked you to go on a date with him; an actual date too, not the platonic hangout sessions from when you were first getting to know each other. Was it taking you so long to answer because you thought he wouldn't be a good husband? Was it because he can be forgetful and so focused on volleyball? Those couldn't be it, you always said that it was something you loved about him, his dedication and drive. Why weren’t you saying anything? What was holding you back?

~~

It had been one year since you met Bokuto, the start of your last year of university. Thursdays became takeout and movie night with him, just him; no one else because “I want to spend time alone with my best friend”. You thought it was sweet that he wanted to take time with just you, but it hurt when you assumed he didn’t see you romantically. You’d be stupid not to have a crush on him, he is so charismatic and funny, not to mention he looks like he was shaped by the gods, in contrast to his puppy like demeanor that would make a statue smile.

On one such Thursday Bokuto was antsy, more than normal. About a third of the way into your movie pick, you had to pause the movie. His fidgeting was getting on your nerves and you could no longer bear to ignore it. In response to you pausing, Bokuto just stared dumbly at you instead of saying anything. This was odd, there was seldom a time Bokuto was without words. 

“What’s your problem tonight?’ you asked, a little agitated. “We can change the movie if you’re not into it.” 

“I just...” He paused for a bit and continued, “ I um, I think I’d like to take you out.” You stared back just as dumbly at him for a bit. “ I don’t mean, like, kill you. I mean like a date… If you want…” You sat on his couch in one of his hoodies with Thai take-out in your lap while he thought this is something he wouldn’t mind seeing all the time. He impatiently awaited your answer, fidgeting with his hands. 

After what felt like an eon (a few minutes in actuality) you responded, “Really? Me?” It was strange to be asked out by someone who was like Bokuto. You weren't the typical drop dead gorgeous type athletes like him usually went after, at least in your own eyes. 

“Well, yeah… that’s why I asked you.” He stated very matter-of-factly. “Why wouldn't I want to date you? You know me, and still want to be my friend after I embarrassed myself at that party. You also still want to study with me even when I don’t know what’s happening, and you dont mind helping me with my classwork even though you’re taking more classes than me.” 

He went on like this for 5 minutes before you finally snapped out of your haze to interrupt him and respond. “I didn’t know you cared that much about me...” You sat on your words before landing on “Okay”. 

You thought you had broken the owlish man when that four letter word left your mouth. He just sat and stared at you before breaking out into the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on him, this is including when he scored the winning point for nationals last spring. In an instant he was off of the couch, as were you, bouncing around the room shaking you along too. 

~~

Feeling the stares of your friends and his, you felt nauseous. You loved Bokuto, but could you accept this? What happens if it falls apart, could you live through that? What if a few years later he finds someone better than you, how could you live with that? You just stood there. Your legs felt as if they weighed a million pounds and your jaw a billion more.

Bokuto was freaking out because he was sure you’d say yes immediately. You’d talked about your futures after graduation and you said something along the lines of wanting him in your life forever. Did he misinterpret that? He got your dream ring from one of your friends who was kind enough to help him. What did he do to screw this up?

“I-I…” you took a breath, “I don’t know” you finished close to tears. After giving an answer you needed to get out, looking at Bokuto was painful because he was heartbroken and confused. You gathered your things and ran out of the restaurant.

Bokuto followed closely after you without grabbing anything. He ran a hand through his hair as he stepped out onto the sidewalk spotting you instantly.

He tentatively approached you as if you were a scared stray cat. “Hey… are you okay? What happened back there?” Bokuto was close to tears too, his usually bright eyes were so serious now. “Are you not ready for this? I thought that conversation after graduation meant you wanted this… I’m really sorry if I got that wrong.” He wouldn’t stop talking. You felt like actual garbage, here he was apologizing to you for what were your own inadequacies. 

“I’m not-” you take a breath, “I’m not good enough for this, or for you. You are a pro athlete, you’re way out of my league, and I’m just someone who fell in love with you. I am not special in any way, I’m not extraordinary, I’m just me.” You pause for a second before continuing, “You deserve so much better than me, you are amazing and deserve the universe, and I’m not that.”

“I don’t see it that way.” Bokuto said simply. “You’re amazing because you are you. I love the way you get focused and bite your lip when you do. I love the way you care for me and make sure I am taking care of myself. How you make the effort to know my friends and family.” He continued while holding your wrist as if to make sure you don’t vanish into nothing. “Most importantly, I love you because of how you love me.” He concluded with a huff, Bokuto was frustrated that he needed to tell you all of this, but if he had to repeat these affirmations to you over and over like a mantra he would without hesitation. 

“Are you sure?” You question, biting your lip and avoiding Bokuto's eyes that always seem to find yours. “Yes, of course, I wouldn’t say anything I didn’t mean” He answers immediately after. “I want you in my life for eternity and so much more.”

[seijohsorbet]

ok but let's talk about the fact that ENNOSHITA is one of the strongest three in HAIKYUU at 35. The other 2 being Daichi and Iwaizumi. HOW DID ENNOSHITA END UP STRONGER THAN PEOPLE LIKE USHIJIMA AND BOKUTO!!! HOW?!?!?!. (Also sorry I've been away for awhile!!)

[cosmicbrowniebox]

Goddess-

"i could be in music club instead of still managing the team"

status: tba(it’s soon likely in a week while I get it setup)

tags: Atsumu x manager!reader, Post timeskip!atsumu x Hairstylist!fem!fem reader, childhood friends to lovers, end of third year to somewhere

warnings: language, anime spoilers probs, grammar mistakes, everyone might be a bit OOC, slight parental issues, silliness,one-sided pining for awhile, sometimes might seem fast pasted but I'm only gonna do a set amount of chapters for it, warnings will vary for each chapter

taglist playlist

meet yn and the crayon eaters, and the danger train + didn't kita make this?

season one

coming soon

tba

..

..

..

..

..

..

season two

[everrinsly]

a/n; thank you, everyone, for reading and the sweet comments! i don't have a vision for this series haha, just whatever comes up in my life that could also fit with the boys' too (and to practice 'crack' level writing that makes me giggle after a long day). this one reminds me of miss kiyoko (mrs. tanaka) heheh

a momager and her silly olympic team vibes.

missing shoes, olympics version. fluff. fem!reader. | not proofread.

more olympic team shenanigans here!

more reads!

~~~~~

The court gleamed under the intense, crystalline lights of the stadium—polished floors practically reflective. Poland’s flag fluttered proudly in one section of the stands while Japan’s dominated the other side, both held high by unwavering pride. As cameras flashed, announcers murmured into headsets, and fans filled every seat clad in national colors, the air buzzed with electric anticipation.

It was also the kind of anticipation that made the team focused as they stretched and bounced in their warmups.

Sakusa was bending his ultra-flexible wrists with ease. Suna was twisting his torso so far to the left that it nearly gave Iwaizumi a heart attack. And Ushijima led by example, doing his routine stretches with slow but methodical precision.

Everything was perfect. No pre-game stress—

“I LOST MY SHOES!”

Silence. Everyone turned to look at Hinata, who was frozen mid-panic-squat with just socks on and visibly vibrating with stress.

“I had them! Shit, I swear! I put them next to my bag and now they’re gone!”

He was rummaging through his duffle, pulling all sorts of random things out—protein bars, milk packets, electrolytes, a container of nicely peeled oranges (from you, by the way), and... a banana. Just the peel, no banana.

Suna stared blankly at him like he was witnessing a live disaster, one that he desperately wanted to post online (just to cause more chaos for Japan's PR team). His hands were already darting out toward his duffle to grab his phone.

Atsumu and Bokuto looked like they were ready to explode from laughter.

"Bro. What? How do you lose your shoes at the Olympics?"

"Shit—I don't know!"

"Are you sure you put them next to your bag?"

“I don't know!” Hinata was full-on wailing now. “Maybe someone took them?!”

"I mean... Poland's middle blocker is looking kinda suspicious over there."

"Look at his size compared to this stupid shrimp, Bo."

"Also, why would anyone want his crusty-ass shoes—?"

"CRUSTY-ASS—?!"

“OR MAYBE,” Atsumu called from the bench, cutting off Hinata's yell, “ya just forgot them. Again. Like when ya were startin' out with us in MSBY. Meian made ya do, like, twenty laps."

"You know, he also lost his shoes during Nationals," Kageyama quipped while doing a butterfly stretch. "I remember this trauma.”

"It was MISPLACED, smartass—"

Komori covered a snort with his towel. Bokuto looked absolutely thrilled. “Well, this is just like Nationals then!”

“No, it’s not!” Sakusa hissed. “That was just a metropolitan gym. This is the Olympics!”

Ushijima blinked, now sucking on a yogurt packet. “Did you not pack a spare?”

“WHO THE FUCK PACKS SPARE SHOES?”

(Ushijima did. He didn't just pack one extra pair, no. He packed two. Both pairs were even nicely labeled in permanent marker. But, of course, you couldn't tell that to Hinata, or he'd combust).

And who else?

You. You did.

You were standing at the bench, already halfway through the team’s emergency supply bag—breath held and heart pounding because of course Hinata would lose his shoes again, and of course you’d be ready.

Because even now, especially now, you knew him.

To the world, he was a 5'8 glory of a man—tan, muscular, kind, and indefinitely loyal... also proficient in Portuguese.

But to you, he was Hinata—your (man-child) sunshine. The boy who forgot to eat lunch if you didn't nag him a little. The boy who was terrible at written English even though he could use the language. The boy who needed a little extra comfort after a particularly intensive drill from Iwaizumi or a harsh scolding from Coach.

“There we go,” you whispered, yanking out a clean, pristine pair of new volleyball shoes. “I knew you’d do this again.”

Same color, same accent. White with red, bright and fiery.

Hinata gasped, turning to you like sunflower to sun.

“YOU’RE MY HERO, SWEETS!”

You nearly collided into him as he ran toward you, arms stretched wide. You held the shoes out. “Here, put these on. Quick. Don’t pull the laces too tight.”

You quickly glanced down at your watch before looking up again and locking eyes with Iwaizumi. "Ten more minutes until game time, so you'd better hurry, Sho."

He blinked at the shoes, then at you, then back again—smile soft and a little wobbly.

“You… you had them ready?”

You flushed under the bright lights. “Well—yeah. I mean. I remembered that time in Tokyo, and you looked so sad, and—”

“I LOVE YOU,” he declared dramatically, clutching the shoes to his chest.

Immediately, from the bench area—

Sakusa groaned.

Komori sighed.

Kageyama glared.

Suna muttered, “Wow.”

Atsumu was nearly on the verge of tears. “Why does he get all the love for a mistake HE made?! Can I fake a shoeless crisis? Will you cradle my career-saving feet too?”

Bokuto practically bounced. “What if I lose my jersey? Will you tackle me with a new one? Please?!”

You didn’t get a chance to answer, because Hinata had already plopped onto the bench beside you, tugging the shoes on like his life depended on it.

“Did I ruin everything?” he asked, voice quieter, sheepish now.

You knelt beside him, fixing the tongue of his left shoe, smoothing his sock into place. “You’re here, aren’t you? You’ve worked too hard to let one silly thing shake you.”

You looked up, meeting his eyes. “I believe in you, Sunshine.”

From behind the bench, Iwaizumi—clipboard in hand, eyes narrowed—muttered, “Okay. That’s the third time she’s called him sunshine this week. I’m keeping track now.”

Ushijima nodded solemnly. “He receives more sunlight than the rest of us.”

“You all get sunlight,” you giggled, rising with a blush. “He just loses his shoes more often.”

Komori deadpanned, “We’ll start misplacing things immediately.”

Suna casually unzipped his Team Japan jacket and let it fall to the floor. “Oops. Lost it. Help me.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, biting back a smile.

“And yet,” he smirked, “you like us ridiculous.”

Atsumu leaned over the bench, grinning stupidly in your face. “When do I get the special ‘I believe in you’ treatment, huh?”

Bokuto chimed in, wide-eyed glassy and lips pouty. “Can you at least pretend I’m your favorite once? Just for morale?”

You laughed and indulged in Bo just this once, hands leaning up to fix the tips of his droopy hair that had lost all their spike and spunk. "I did a three-way video call with you and Akaashi. I think that counts—"

Iwaizumi stepped in, blowing the whistle. “Warm-ups. Now. Five minutes. Everyone who’s not Hinata, stop acting like you're in middle school. Everyone who is Hinata—tie your damn laces.”

"IWA—we were having a moment!" Bokuto cried out.

"Next moment's mine, right?" Atsumu whispered in your ear, slinging his arms around you.

You laughed and pulled him off with a soft pat to his back. "Maybe if you get six aces."

Atsumu smirked, all dangerous and flirty. "Watch me, sweetheart."

You shook your head, a hint of a smile twitching on your lips, and they scattered back onto the court like overgrown toddlers. Except one—Hinata lingered by your side, tugging gently at your sleeve.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “Really.”

His hand found yours, intertwining your pinkies for just a second—like he'd done many times in high school. Only this time, it felt special—like a shared secret between the two of you.

You smiled, heart full and fluttering. “Just win, yeah?”

He nodded, pressing a lazy kiss to the top of your head. “For you, always.”

On the court, eight jealous men all glared in perfect sync.

"God—what kind of flirting did he learn in Brazil?"

"You wanna learn too?"

"Sure do."

[noorpersona]

Rivalry: Iwaizumi Pt. 3 (NSFW)

The overhead lights in your office buzzed faintly, casting a sterile sheen across your desk, your tea, your meticulously arranged files. Every folder sat aligned at a perfect angle, every spreadsheet tabbed and color-coded to hell and back. You had done it all this morning, trying to distract yourself—trying to settle your mind with clean lines and predictable logic. The problem was, your hands weren’t moving. Your cursor blinked on the empty field of the player report form, waiting for an input that wasn’t coming.

You were still in last night’s gym.

You could feel it—his hand at your waist, his breath ghosting along your neck, the focused burn in his eyes like he’d been trying so hard not to look and failing anyway. That single brush of his fingertips over your lower back had lingered longer than it should have. You’d felt the press of his palm even after the janitor’s voice startled you both apart.

You clicked your pen hard against the desk, leaving a dent in the paper beneath it. No. You are not spiraling over Iwaizumi Hajime’s fucking triceps. This wasn’t high school. You didn’t have a crush. You had standards—and a job to do.

So why the hell couldn’t you stop replaying how his eyes had dropped—not to your clipboard, not to your notes—but to your mouth, right before the door opened?

Another sharp click. Another unfinished line of text. The memory flushed through your chest like static, and you were just about to stand and walk it off when a knock sounded on your door.

It was brisk. Familiar. Firm.

You barely managed to school your features into something neutral before the door cracked open—and there he was.

Iwaizumi Hajime, looming like a storm cloud, his Olympic-branded laptop tucked under one arm. His shirt sleeves were rolled to the elbows, veins tracing his forearms like tension maps, his jaw tight, unreadable. He didn’t say anything at first, just stepped inside your office with the restrained efficiency of a man too used to high-stakes situations.

“I’ve updated the training program,” he said, voice rough and clipped, as if last night hadn’t happened. “Based on what you showed me yesterday.”

He moved toward your desk, tilted the screen toward you. The moment the spreadsheet opened, your eyes skimmed the rows—and your stomach tightened.

Komori’s lateral sequences had been scaled down. Hyakuzawa’s overhead load was decreased. Flexibility modules were individualized. The wording was precise. The ratios were accurate.

You couldn’t believe it.

“It looks… solid,” you said, cautiously. “You actually listened.”

Iwaizumi’s mouth quirked. “I always listen.”

“You just don’t usually believe me,” you muttered, fingers tapping the edge of the keyboard.

He shrugged. “I believe you when you’re right.”

You were about to fire back when the door slammed open.

“Whoa—no yelling?” Bokuto’s voice rang out with playful disbelief as he peeked in, already grinning.

Behind him, Yaku gave a nod like he’d seen this coming from a mile away. “Told you they’d mellow out eventually.”

You crossed your arms, glaring. “What the hell are you two doing?”

“Seeing if the explosion already happened,” Bokuto chirped, eyes darting between you and Iwaizumi. “But this? You’re practically cozy. Suspicious.”

“Get out,” Iwaizumi growled, his voice all grit and warning.

“Wait, are you two—” Bokuto began.

“Absolutely not,” you cut in, sharp enough to decapitate.

Yaku raised a brow. “You’re denying it a little too fast, Doc.”

Iwaizumi’s glare could have melted iron. “Say one more thing and you’re benched for the week.”

“Okay, okay!” Bokuto backed up, laughing. “Damn. Just saying—it’s new energy.”

You stood, jaw clenched. “Out. Now.”

The two Olympic players exchanged a final glance before Bokuto tossed over his shoulder, “If it does happen, call me for the wedding.”

As the door shut behind them, you exhaled sharply. “They are insufferable.”

Iwaizumi rubbed the back of his neck, sighing. “Because we let them be.”

He turned toward the door, laptop still under his arm. Before leaving, he hesitated—just for a beat—and looked at you over his shoulder.

“Seriously. You were right. Yesterday.”

The words landed heavy. Too heavy.

“…Thanks.”

He nodded once, then walked out. Door closing on his way out.

And you didn’t move for a long time.

Not until your pulse calmed and the sound of his voice stopped buzzing in your ears.

--

You’d barely made it back to your office from your lunch break and shut the door behind you before there was another knock. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was. That rhythm was far too obnoxious to belong to anyone else.

“Doc!” Atsumu Miya strolled in like he owned the place, grinning with all the charm of a cat who’d just knocked something off a counter. “Got a second? My shoulder’s actin’ up again—figured you’d be thrilled to poke around in it.”

You rolled your eyes, but gestured toward the exam bench anyway. “Sit. Shirt off. Keep the commentary to a minimum.”

“That’s no fun,” he mumbled, but obeyed, peeling his shirt off with the practiced flair of someone who knew exactly what his arms looked like in fluorescent lighting.

You slipped on your gloves, moving around him with practiced ease. “Still some impingement from the inflammation?”

“Mmhm,” he replied, rotating his arm slightly. “Worse after I sleep on it wrong.”

You pressed gently along the front of the shoulder, assessing the rotation with subtle shifts. He winced once, which you noted.

Then, predictably, the smirk returned.

“Ya and Iwaizumi-san looked cozy earlier,” he said casually, not even trying to be slick. “Should I be worried?”

You froze for half a second, just enough for him to catch it.

“Worried he might kill me?” you deadpanned, fingers still pressed to his deltoid. “Absolutely.”

Atsumu huffed a laugh, but his eyes narrowed, too observant for your liking.

“I was thinkin’ the opposite,” he mused. “Didn’t look like hate to me.”

Your brows twitched.

You narrowed your eyes. “Did the rest of the team put you up to this?”

Atsumu’s smirk deepened. “What? Can’t a guy notice things on his own?”

You scoffed and reached for his shoulder again. “I’m going to press deeper into the joint now.”

Atsumu, still grinning, relaxed his shoulder—and immediately yelped when your fingers dug just slightly harder into the inflamed tissue.

“Still tender, I see?” you asked innocently, lifting a brow.

“Ow—damn, Doc!” he hissed, rubbing the area as you pulled back. “That was a low blow.”

You offered a thin smile. “Consider it a reminder to keep your theories to yourself.”

He winced, stretching his shoulder slowly. “You wound me. Here I am, bringin’ you a little entertainment in your dull clinic, and you repay me with violence.”

“I repay you with diagnostics,” you replied coolly, stepping around to the back of his shoulder. “And unsolicited opinions get the treatment they deserve.”

“Don’t know why you’re actin’ like this is such a scandal,” he muttered. “Half the gym’s been waitin’ for you two to snap and jump each other.”

Your glove-clad fingers stilled mid-rotation.

Atsumu grinned like a shark. “C’mon, you mean to tell me ya don’t see it? All that arguing—feels like foreplay.”

"It is not in your best interest to continue that train of thought."

You moved to the back of his shoulder and rotated the joint again, this time met with less resistance.

But your heart was suddenly in your throat.

Atsumu didn’t push further—blessedly—but his silence was far louder than any teasing remark. He watched you finish the check-up with a strange sort of calm, the air between you humming with something unsaid.

“You’re good,” you said finally, peeling off the gloves and tossing them into the bin. “Still keep the compression sleeve on when you’re not on court. I’ll send you some updated stretches.”

“Thanks, Doc.” He hopped off the bench, slinging his shirt over his shoulder. But just before he stepped out, he paused at the door.

“Y’know,” he said, almost too casually, “it’s kinda wild. Iwaizumi’s been here for years, and I’ve never seen him look at anyone like that.”

The door shut behind him before you could ask what the hell that meant.

And you hated—hated—the way your face warmed.

--

The lights in the hallways were dim, the soft hum of the facility settling into its nightly lull. Most of the staff had already cleared out—offices darkened, doors locked, the echo of your footsteps the only thing keeping the silence company. You rolled your shoulder, spine aching after another long day of meetings, treatment notes, and dodging the smug glances Atsumu kept throwing you every time he passed your office.

You were halfway to the exit, bag slung over your shoulder, keys in hand, when something made you stop. A dull, rhythmic sound. The muted clang of weights meeting padded flooring.

Your eyes cut to the side.

The training gym was lit only by a single overhead bulb in the far corner, flickering slightly above the racks. Inside, shirtless, sweat-slicked, and visibly focused, stood Hajime Iwaizumi. Alone.

You didn’t mean to stop. But your feet planted themselves anyway.

He was mid-lift—some kind of upright barbell press—and the curve of his back shifted with every rep, sweat rolling down between the muscles that flexed and released with practiced rhythm. His sweatpants clung to the powerful line of his hips, and a notebook sat open beside him on the bench, filled with scrawled corrections and diagrams. He wasn’t just working out. He was testing.

Your breath snagged, and before you could stop yourself, your hand reached out to gently push the door open.

Iwaizumi looked up.

He didn’t pause. Didn’t blink. Just kept lifting, jaw tight, eyes catching yours.

"You just gonna stand there," he said, voice gravelled with fatigue and something warmer, "or you planning to come in?"

Your heart gave an inconvenient lurch.

You stepped in. Slowly. The door clicked shut behind you, the echo bouncing off the gym walls like a warning shot.

"Didn’t think you’d still be here," you said, keeping your voice neutral.

He lowered the weights, rolling his shoulders back with a grunt. "Didn’t finish the work. That thing you won’t stop nagging me about."

Your lips twitched. "Right. That thing."

A beat of silence. Thick and heavy.

You moved closer, eyeing the open notebook.

"You’ve changed a lot," you said, voice quieter.

He arched a brow. "Excuse me?"

You pointed at the program updates. "The circuits. You adjusted the progression intervals. And you finally stopped overloading the endurance drills."

A shrug. "You were right."

Your eyes flicked up, surprised to hear it from his mouth.

"Don’t get smug," he muttered.

"Wouldn’t dream of it."

The corner of his mouth quirked, and for a moment, the silence between you was less heavy. Just taut. Like a pulled wire.

You pointed to the bar. "May I?"

His brow raised, but he stepped aside. You brushed past him—just barely—but the heat that rolled off his skin followed you like static. You wrapped your fingers around the bar, adjusted your stance.

"Like last night," you murmured, reaching back with your hand, brushing your palm across the taut muscle of his abdomen. "You’re still tensing too soon. Posterior tilt’s off."

He let out a rough exhale. "You always this picky?"

"You always this stubborn?"

He caught your wrist. Not hard—just firm enough that your eyes snapped to his.

"You know what you’re doing."

Your pulse jumped. "Do I?"

His mouth crashed into yours before you could answer.

Everything went hot and messy.

His lips were rough, desperate, teeth scraping your lower lip like it was a grudge he meant to settle. You gasped into his mouth as his hands found your waist, calloused fingers digging into the soft give of your skin like he could anchor himself there. The gym’s cold air was a distant thing, barely felt beneath the furnace of your bodies colliding, friction turning tension into fire.

You didn’t remember moving, only the wild clutch of your limbs and his, the stumble of your shoes across the floor. One step. Two. Then you were walking him backward toward the center mat, his chest rising beneath your touch. He was tugging your shirt up, shoving it over your head with a grunt of impatience, and it hit the ground somewhere behind you. You didn’t care. You needed more—needed his skin under your palms, needed to feel him, solid and hot and here.

"You’re such a pain in my ass," you growled, teeth flashing as you wrestled with the waistband of his sweats.

"Yeah?" he rasped, his hand already sliding past the waistband of your leggings, fingers curling possessively around your ass. "Then why do you keep showing up?"

You shoved him. Hard.

He hit the mat with a thud, breath whooshing out of him—and still he grinned like the bastard he was, even as he yanked you down on top of him.

Your thighs spread across his hips as you straddled him, your palms braced on his chest, feeling the flex of muscle beneath each ragged breath. You kissed him again—slower this time, deeper. Your tongue slid against his, your hips beginning to roll, teasing friction where your bodies met. His cock strained against his sweats, thick and hot and barely contained.

"Take them off," you muttered.

He obeyed. Sweats shoved down, boxers next, and his cock slapped against his stomach, flushed and ready. You stared for a beat too long.

"What?" he panted, eyes dark and glassy.

"Nothing," you lied. "Just shut up."

Clothes hit the floor in a trail of skin and fabric. Your leggings. Your panties. His shirt. Everything discarded in your frantic need.

He sat up just enough to run his hands up your sides, thumbs brushing the swell of your breasts, then down to your thighs as you shifted above him. You held his gaze as you reached between you, guiding him to your entrance. Your breath caught at the first stretch—then you sank down, inch by inch, until he was fully seated inside you.

You both froze.

Your nails dug into his shoulders, your body adjusting to the thickness of him. The sensation was overwhelming—stretching you open, the slow drag of every inch sending a shiver down your spine. It had been too long since something felt this good. Since someone felt this good.

He groaned, hands trembling against your waist, gripping you like he might come undone.

"Fuck," he whispered. "You—"

"Don’t talk," you snapped, breathless.

You rocked forward, and he moaned. A sound from deep in his throat, guttural and raw. You did it again—slow, dragging circles with your hips, feeling every ridge, every inch, the way he filled you so completely you could barely breathe. The pleasure curled through you hot and tight, blooming in your belly, liquid heat spreading with every thrust.

His mouth found your neck, tongue tracing the line of your throat before he bit, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to make you whimper.

"You drive me insane," he muttered against your skin, and this time, you didn’t argue.

You set a rhythm, your hands on his chest, his hands on your ass, guiding you down harder, deeper, every motion building heat in your belly. Sweat slicked your skin, your thighs trembled, and every thrust sent sparks up your spine. The tension climbed higher, unbearable, addictive.

He met you thrust for thrust, rising to meet you, hips snapping up as you dropped down, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing off the gym walls. You felt yourself unraveling around him, muscles tightening, your body shaking.

"You like this, don’t you?" he growled, voice low and fucked out. "Being in charge. Getting your way."

"Shut up, Hajime."

He grinned—and flipped you.

You hit the mat with a gasp, his body heavy and hot above you. He braced one arm beside your head, the other slipping under your thigh as he pulled your leg higher around his waist.

"Not gonna let you win everything, Doc."

Then he was pounding into you, unrelenting, deep and fast, and your fingers clawed into his back, desperate to hold onto something as pleasure overtook you. Each thrust filled you to the hilt, your walls fluttering around him, slick and tight and aching.

You cried out, eyes fluttering shut, hips canting up to meet his every thrust.

"There," you gasped. "Right there—"

He didn’t stop. Not until your back arched, legs locking around his waist, and you came with a broken moan, pleasure snapping through you like lightning. You pulsed around him, body locking up as ecstasy tore through you.

He followed seconds later, groaning into your neck, his body trembling with release.

For a long moment, all you heard was breath. Harsh. Labored. Yours and his.

He didn’t pull out right away. Just stayed, forehead pressed to your shoulder, his hand tangled in your hair.

You stared at the ceiling.

Oh, fuck.

What now?

[shoyospikes]

gonna watch the hq movie this week

IM SO BEHIND I FEEL LIKE EVERYONES ALREADY WATCHED IT 😫