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kentolove · 11 months

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Candy Says

miya atsumu x reader, reader x male oc (Ren)

summary: You push away, but he always finds his way back to you.

warnings: college au, fluff, angst, reader emotionally and physically (kissing) cheats on their bf with atsumu oh oh, descriptions of emotional and kinda verbal abuse, a very lovesick atsumu

listen to [for the full experience] : Candy Says by the Velvet Underground, Last Goodbye by Jeff Buckley, The Place Where He Inserted the Blade by Black Country New Road, Lonely by Chloe x Halle, and I Didn’t Understand by Elliott Smith

3k words

“Kiss me, please kiss me

Kiss me out of desire, babe, not consolation”

— ‘Last Goodbye’ by Jeff Buckley

Nothing good ever happens when you’re with Atsumu. There’s something so entrancing about him, something that calls you deep into his waters until you’re helplessly drowning. There’s a magic that ignites whenever you look at him. Electricity when your skin brushes his. Fireworks, when he makes you feel wanted in a way you never have been before.

But he’s just a friend. He’s Suna’s friend and by association, that means he’s your friend.

At least that’s what you’re supposed to be.

He’s meant to be your friend when he calls you late into the night only because he wants to hear your voice. He’s meant to be your friend when he comes to your place and cooks your favorite meals. He’s meant to be your friend even when he spends sleepless nights dreaming of how he’d pull you close and kiss you, even though he knows you have a boyfriend. He’s meant to be your friend when he holds your hand even though he knows he shouldn’t.

There are a lot of things that Miya Atsumu knows he shouldn’t do. But when he’s with you, the line between right and wrong is blurred.

Whenever you see Atsumu, your heart races in a way it never has before. It’s something you never felt with Ren, even during the times when he was your Prince Charming. Bright lights shine with Ren, but with Atsumu, it feels as if the whole damn sun burns for you two.

And the next time that you see Atsumu, it’s in the library. He’s sat somewhere in a corner with his eyes intently focused on a large textbook. Your steps are slow as you approach him, some part of you convincing yourself that he would much rather be alone than be in your presence. But before you can make your grand escape, Atsumu spots you and his eyes light up in an unimaginable way.

He’s quick to call your name, patting the seat next to him.

“Hi, Atsumu,” you smile, and it’s a rare, beautiful sight.

“Hi. What are you here for?”

He kicks your shin when you don’t immediately respond. You giggle. (He’ll never tell you, but that sweet sound is all that he longs for). You kick him back.

“I have a bio test in a week. Ren told me to come here and study.”

Something in his heart twists at the mention of your boyfriend. He remembers the commanding tone he always uses on you and how you’re always so quick to listen to his every word. He wishes he could change that. Somehow put it in your mind that you can do anything you want, even if you may not know it yourself.

“Told you?”

“Yeah?” Your voice cracks slightly, “his friends are coming over and he said he didn’t want me to embarrass him so he told me I can go.”

His blood boils and he sees red. You know that none of your friends are very fond of your boyfriend, but leaving him is much harder when each hit to your heart is paired with a sweet kiss.

“You know what I’m gonna say, sweetheart–”

“I know, Atsumu. I don’t want to be mean or anything, but I don’t need to hear it right now.”

He can see you put your head down in your books as your lip quivers. He hates how your hands shake as you reach into your bag. He hates how he makes you feel.

“Hey,” he places a rough hand on yours, “it’s okay.”

You nod but still refuse to look him in the eye. You wish you were stronger. Strong enough to leave the man that brings tears to your eyes and run to the one who leaves your heart bursting at every beat. You wish you didn’t spend every waking second embarrassed at everything you’ve ever done.

“I think I’ll just go.”

Atsumu is left confused as he watches you pack up the little things you brought. Ten minutes had barely passed since you arrived and he’d never want to do anything to make you feel uncomfortable.

“Hey,” he gently grabs your hand. “Let me take you somewhere.”

Words fall short and there’s no hesitation present in your actions. He takes this as his cue to lock his hand with yours, and you feel warm inside. The rough pads of his thumbs rub soothing circles on your skin. You tremble. Of fear, lingering anger, or love–you’re not quite sure.

Atsumu has a few methods of making you happier.

The first one, easy and simple, is physical affection. He knows you crave a gentle touch more than anyone he’s ever known. A kiss on the forehead (that definitely crosses some boundaries), a sweet hug that leaves his teeth rotting, or his personal favorite, walking down the streets with his hand in yours.

They’re all far too touchy for the “friend” category and your boyfriend would most definitely flip if he knew what Atsumu was doing, but he can’t find it in himself to care. Not when he sees your shoulders relax each time his skin is on yours.

The second and most effective method is food. He always found a way to buy himself into your heart, whether it's ingredients he purchases to cook you something good or if it’s a small treat. Today, he decides that ice cream will be his method of manipulation.

“Hey,” he speaks up. You’re sat together at an old park bench, face still down from your conversation earlier. “It’s okay.”

He slithers his way into your heart by slowly laying your head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” You’re so quick to say sorry. So quick to apologize even when there’s no need to.

“Don’t say sorry.” His words earn a small giggle from you, a sound that makes him forget all the pain in his heart. “What’s so funny?”

“You’re so different from him,” you smile to yourself. “Ren never takes me out anymore. He tells me that I need to stop eating so much. But you don’t do that. I don’t think you ever could.”

Before he can respond, he feels a cold sensation on his nose and sees a glint in your eyes. You look up at him with a giddy smile and he knows you’re okay. Somehow, someway, he always finds a way to make you okay again. And even though his skin warms in anger, you calm him down.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” is all he says, before rubbing the ice cream off his nose and wiping it on you.

“You’ve gone soft on me, Atsumu,” you say and his name sounds like an angel’s choir on your tongue. “A year ago you would’ve thrown your cone at my face.”

At your words, he drops his cone on the park’s green grass and lunges at you. His fingers make contact with your sides and he’s soon tickling you till you’re screaming and kicking him all over.

“Sorry!” Your voice cracks, “I’ll never do it again!”

He relents at your endless pleas but regrets his every decision when he sees how beautiful you look under him. His breathing is uneven and so is yours, and he can’t stop himself from looking at your chest as it moves up and down.

“Atsumu?” You question.

“Yeah?”

“I really like being with you.”

He sucks in a breath, “Me too.”

Ten seconds pass.

“Atsumu?”

“Yeah?”

“I want to kiss you.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah. But I have a boyfriend.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, “you do.”

He stares at you for what feels like hours until he decides to lean in. He closes his eyes the second your lips are on his, and he feels every part of him melt into you. The kiss is not desperate or hungry, but soft and sweet. He gently lifts you off the bench and onto his lap and his hold on you is so kind. He pulls you further into him and passion explodes on both your tongues.

And as Atsumu holds you on this beat-down park bench kissing you so softly, he realizes that he is in love with you.

It’s been two weeks since you last talked to Atsumu.

He’s tried approaching you, doing anything to get you to look at him again, but you just won’t give up. You’re quiet. Shy. Nervous in an almost unsettling way. Your words are slow and perfectly articulated, sentences curated robotically. Atsumu doesn’t like it.

Whenever he is tasked with the battle that is speaking to you, he feels as if worms are crawling inside his stomach. There are no butterflies or flutters, just slimy, green worms that consume him whole.

He doesn’t know what makes him feel this way. He’s perfectly in tune with his emotions and what he wants, but when it comes to you, his heart loses the connection that it has with the rest of his body and begins to burst.

He knows he loves you.

He knows that you have a boyfriend. A boyfriend that is overprotective in a way that is also unsettling.

He also knows it’s none of his business. He also knows that he’s naïve for falling for someone with a clear dedication to their partner.

He’s stupid. But as stupid as he may be, Miya Atsumu has never been one to deny himself what he wants. He may never be yours, but he knows he could treat you better than anyone else could. Maybe he’s made for you. Or maybe he wants to understand you in a way nobody ever has before.

And as he watches you from across this crowded room, he knows that all you need is a friend.

“Hi,” he says, and you nearly jump ten feet into the air.

A part of him expected your jumpy behavior—you move through life with fear and caution—but a gentle hand on your shoulder is enough to calm you down.

“Oh, hi. Atsumu. Hi.”

The air is thick. You’re awkward. So much so that sometimes Atsumu wonders if it would be better to leave you alone.

“Hi, sweetheart. What are you doing here all alone?”

“Oh, I’m, uh, not alone.”

You use your finger to point across the room to a man. A man with an arm around another woman. Atsumu smoothly turns his head to look at you, and he notices how your features twist in discomfort at the sight.

“Oh,” he starts, “he’s an ass.” Is the only form of consolation that he can think of.

“Yeah,” you sigh. Your eyes are still glued to the sight in front of you and Atsumu wishes he could take you into his arms and make you forget about him.

“He dragged you to a frat party just to leave you alone the whole night?”

“He doesn’t mean to, I guess. He just has a lot more friends than I do.” You’re defending him. Atsumu knows that you don’t mean to, but it’s a habit that has cemented itself into your mind. He’s a sad excuse for a boyfriend that has turned you into someone that you are not.

“Come with me,” he softly whispers, a gentle hand placed on your wrist. The kindness is something so unfamiliar that you close your eyes and relish in the heaven he has provided you with.

“Okay,” is your answer.

Atsumu first drags you to the kitchen, grabbing a shit ton of cups that he knows could be put to better use. Next is an entire six-pack of beer (that one earns him a few protests from onlookers, but he still strides away with confidence), and lastly, a ping pong ball from one of his friends.

You’re not quite sure how he’s able to carry all those things while maintaining a hold on your hand, but you chose not to question him. Silence has always been your best friend.

You’re hit with a strong, cold gust of wind before you realize where you are. Somehow, in the midst of all your thought, he managed to drag you to the rooftop of your classmate's house.

“Oh. Atsumu, why are we outside?”

You like how his hand feels on your skin. He emanates a warmth that is foreign to you. No one has ever bothered to hold you with such care.

“Beer pong,” his beautiful boyish smirks peeks through.

“That doesn’t really explain anything.” You look up at him with your big, curious eyes and Atsumu nearly melts.

He sets the cups on the floor in the 1-3-5 triangular formation, dragging you to sit on the ground with him.

“My dress…” Another small mumble falls from your lips.

Atsumu turns to eye your beautiful white dress and his mind takes him to dangerous places. You got all dolled up for your asshole of a boyfriend, just for him to spend his whole time coddled up with another girl. If he was yours, his heart would be locked with yours and his eyes would be glued on you.

“Where are my manners?” A laugh falls from his lips and he’s quick to take off his jacket and lay it on the floor. “Your throne, sweetheart.”

“Are you sure? I’d feel bad,” there’s that usual apprehension present in your voice.

“If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have done it. Now sit.”

He pinches your cheek with a shy smile on his face. There’s something so welcoming about him. His heart, his generosity, or maybe it's the ever-present teasing tone of his voice. You’re not quite sure. All you know is that you like him. You like his presence.

You don’t really play much beer pong that night.

Somehow, you end up with your head on Atsumu’s shoulder and his hand tangled up in yours.

“I wish he’d listen to me,” you break the silence that surrounds you two.

“What does that mean?”

“Oh. I’m talking about Ren. I wish he’d listen to me sometimes.” Minutes pass before you get the courage to speak again. “He can be… really mean. And he doesn’t like you very much, Atsumu.”

He feels defensive. He knows he shouldn’t–you’re not his–but he doesn’t like hearing the pain etched in your voice. He squeezes your hand, one, two, three times, just to let you know that he’s there.

“I wish he was like you. You’re so sweet. And you listen to me a lot. You make me laugh and you remember my favorite things even though I don’t mention them very often.”

His chest hurts. Those evil, slimy worms crawl back up inside his stomach and he feels as if he’ll throw up. He wants to hold you. To kiss you and tell you that you deserve everything you want and more. But he knows he can’t. Maybe what you two are doing is wrong, but he knows you need him. You need a friend.

“I wish I met you first.”

An arrow pierces his heart.

It’s an endless cycle.

This time a month passes by before you talk to him again.

He understands it. Kind of. Atsumu doesn’t want you to think that he’s pushing you into something new. He knows that you’ve spent your whole life scared of change. He’s patient (at least he wants to be).

He gets a call from you on a Thursday afternoon and nearly screams when he sees your caller ID. He doesn’t let the phone ring for longer than two seconds before he picks up your call.

(“Jesus Christ,” Suna lets out a loud, painful groan. “You’re fucking pathetic, Atsumu.”)

“Hello?”

“...Hi, Atsumu.”

It feels so good to hear his name on your tongue once again. “Hi. How are you?”

“I’m, uh, okay.” There’s a long pause where you relish in the sound of his voice. “I wanted to tell you that I broke up with Ren. Um, three weeks ago.”

He feels his heart drop. He’s lost the little sense he has when he’s around you.

“Would you like to come over?”

“Sure,” he sighs like he never has before. “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

He lies. He’s at your doorstep a little after the ten-minute mark.

A small knock is placed on your door. He’s not one to be scared—he’s lived his life confident in everything that he does—but today, genuine fear rests in his heart. He doesn’t know if he can take being away from you once again.

You open the door looking as beautiful as ever. “Hi.”

“Hi,” and he smiles.

You beckon him in and he’s quick to follow. He wants to hold you. To tackle you to your couch and tell you how much he loves you. But he can’t, at least not until you tell him he can.

You suddenly turn to face him with a fire lighting in your eyes. “I’m sorry if this is really forward, but Suna told me to stop being a pussy and to tell you what I feel.” You take a step closer to him. “I really, really like you, Atsumu. And I feel like I’ve spent the past few months stringing you along and never getting the courage to tell you what I really want, but now I can. I like you.”

You’re trembling. Shaking so much that Atsumu has to take your hands in his to calm you down.

“I’m really sorry for using you.”

“Using me?” He finds the strength to respond. His head is running a mile a minute and he wants nothing more than to tell you that he loves you. So much so that his feet feel like jelly whenever he looks at you. “I’ve always wanted you. Even more than you’ve ever wanted me.”

“You wouldn’t want to be with me.”

“Why?” He asks, his face slowly inching closer to yours.

“I’m a cheater.”

He chuckles. It’s loud, it’s beautiful, and it’s so him. Every part of you envies his ability to be so wholeheartedly himself.

“Not really a good argument when I was the main accomplice in your cheating.”

“Atsumu,” you rest your head against his chest and every part of him feels like home. His scent, his arms, his mind that controls his every thought. “You wouldn’t want me,” tears fall from your eyes and become one with his skin. “I’m damaged goods. I’m not enough for you. You’re so big and you can do so much without me by your side.”

His hold on you tightens and you feel as if you can’t breathe. “I love you. Every part of you. You’ll always be enough for me.”

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assumeatsumu · 2 years

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「⌕」 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨

「thesis」 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘶𝘱, 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘷𝘪𝘦𝘸 𝘰𝘧 𝘈𝘯𝘳𝘪, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴.

「pairings」 𝘮𝘪𝘺𝘢 𝘢𝘵𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘶 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

「warnings」 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵

"Anari!"

Anari looks back to see who was calling her name disguised as an obnoxious whisper. She could hear the whisper above the forks striking plates and cellos and violins plucking their lyrical stings. Your hearing tends to be more sharper than usual when you had to watch over three despicable, younger brothers.

Her attention was drawn to Tamura, the receptionist who had rolled the waitlist into a microphone. Having captured her friend's attention, as well as that of a couple of her customers, Tamura gestured for Anari to come to her.

"What?" Anari asked, "I'm kinda busy."

"I've just been told that we have to remove that lady over there by the manager," she says.

Her head nods subtly in your direction. A floral Maxi embraces your body perfectly and reveals your right knee jumping nervously through its open slit. The chair in front of you, unchanged, has a cold essence with no ass to thaw it, so it remains tucked under the drooping, red tablecloth, relying on it to make up for its absent warmth.

You gazed at the puddles lining the street outside your window. When the wheels of Chevys disturbed the restful pools and faces belonging to blonde hair walked by, your eyes follow them with hope-injected stares.

It was a situation Anari recognized quickly.

"He said that her time is up, especially since she's not eating."

Being a waitress means doing this, which Anri hates. Following a three-month renovation, Bones reopened to frantic reservations from hungry customers. She forgot how escorting stood-up customers would also come with the job and this would be her first refresher.

She looks back at Tamura who just shrugs with apathy before a liar's smile spreads across Anari's face as she hugs her tray close to her chest and finally approaches you, going over her speech inside of her head.

"Hello, ma'am. I'm so glad you chose our establishment for dinner, but, your reservation has timed out so I must kick you out so we can get ready for our next client's arrival."

And hopefully, you'll come back with someone.

But Anari doesn't add that.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I understand," you began to push out of your seat and straighten your dress.

Her eyes are drawn to you once again, the soft sandy light surrounds your body in a halo and you glow in a glorious golden veil.

The anger she felt towards you stemmed from the fact that your boyfriend, girlfriend, or whoever didn't take the time to appreciate your beauty.

"I'm sorry," a more genuine apology is offered by Anri this time. There was a doubt in her mind whether she did it out of protocol or out of sympathy for you.

"It's okay," you say, assuring her of the truth.

Despite knowing your way out, she leads you to the front entrance. When the rain began to fall, you popped open your umbrella as she spoke to you one final time, "we look forward to dining with you again."

Nodding, you stepped outside and into the wet night.

The frown on Anari's face persists as she walks back to Tamura. "That was awful."

Suddenly, the door burst open accompanied by a violent jingle from the jingle bells mounted at the top of the door, meant for alerting the staff of arriving customers.

Crashing into Tamura's post with a loud thud would have also attracted everyone's attention, if that wasn't enough.

His hair was dripping wet and water was running down off his shoulders, wetting the papers on Tamura's podium that had been rearranged. Despite his open blazer's coverage, his wet white shirt clung to his body and exposed his toned skin and muscular torso.

He was pumping more air into his lungs with every rise and fall of his chest and Anri tried her best to ignore the sight of his imposing chest. He was breathing as if he had just completed a cross-country trip at 24mph non-stop.

The man speaks with a slight pause. "My name is Miya Atsumu," he says, "I booked a table here in a month advance."

Tamura, still shocked, glances at Anari briefly to see if she exhibited the same shock before taking a look at her waitlist and the ones that had scattered across the ground.

"U-um, Miya Atsumu?" She questioned to get confirmation.

In a choked voice, Atsumu replied, "that is correct."

He was leaning against the podium, one hand on his knees and the other gripping the platform.

"Um," the name of Atsumu appears, mixed in among the chaos, within record time, "I apologize, but your time was up a few minutes ago."

"Fuck," he breathes, now both hands on his knees.

"Did you two ladies see a girl, about yay high," he gestures, raising his hand slightly under his chin, "um, she has a pair of beautiful eyes and um, pretty thick (h/c) curls — you can't actually miss her, she captivates light and looks pretty everywhere goes."

While Tamura stammer with a response, Anari immediately recants the glowing woman who'd looked like she was bathing in heaven's light when she just really was standing in yellow ones, "she just left right after you showed up."

"What direction?"

Anari directs him to the right where she could still see in the foggy distance a pair of legs, peeking through your umbrella as you began to fade away from the establishment.

"Thank you!"

It is already halfway down the street when the man rushes out to catch up with you.

Tamura stares at Anari in amazement and gawks, "how did you get that? Anyone here could've fit that description."

Anari shrugged her shoulders, eyes never lifting from Atsumu's running figure, "she did look very beautiful."

Anari's sharp listening for once overlooks Tamura's comment about the mess on her podium as her gaze fixates on Atsumu, whose hands are flailing everywhere after he'd caught up to you, attempting to explain his reason for being late.

Maybe he was using the cliches. Perhaps he was talking about how he climbed thin branches to free a cat stuck in a tree but fell on his ass and broke his phone as he did so.

Or possibly a woman went into labor on his way here and he had to deliver the baby.

Or maybe he just got distracted by office work and the time slipped away.

Whichever it was, it still granted a kiss on his cheek.

Anari still remembers the time when she was in the same situation as you, looking out the window with hope-filled eyes that trailed every chevy and blonde that passed by, and then crying outside the entrance after hope had left.

Her resentment for him grew with every apology and explanation that bubbled from his mouth, with every A.S.A.P Milieu song that vibrated her cellphone every day, with every stray red petal from roses she clobbered on her doorstep.

But theres a little faith that grows inside her heart as you two walk away hand in hand, and she thinks that maybe they deserve a second chance.

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skvvzy · 2 years

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Sweet dreams

Pairing Atsumu x you

Summary || atsumu has been having the worst week, so he’ll just sleep to leave his problems but when a certain friend shows up in that dream he realizes he wishes it wasn’t just a dream ||

Authors note || this was inspired by my friend who told me about a dream she had with this gymnastics girl and she wanted me to credit as “Dulces dream” ( this has also been in my draft for like 3 weeks ) feel free to tell me about any grammar mistakes this was also kinda rushed so I do apologize ||

As atsumu looks out the window to see the sunset and pink clouds trying to ignore the sounds of samus clicking on his phone and the noisy train. All he can think about is sleep, goodness the rough week he’s been threw, the only thing he craves is rest.

This week has been nothing but shit to him starting from Monday waking up late and getting scolded by his teacher. Then Tuesday he forgot he had to do a test and forgot to study for it because he was busy practicing his serves that evening. Wednesday where he got that same test back and luckily barely got a passing grade but got scolded by Kita for not putting studies first. Thursday stupid samu severed the ball at his face, it was enough of a hit to give him a bloody nose and for suna to get it on camera. Finally Friday it was a normal day luckily woke up in time, no test, no scoldings or hit in the face but man was he tired the thought of resting and forgetting about the week or just taking a break and not having to think about getting ready for practice or the embarrassing things that happened this week.

Finally walking into the house where him and samu take their shoes off by the front door setting their bags down. It was kinda late and dinner looked like it had been made but tsumu wasn’t hungry he wasn’t anything, he felt nothing but exhaustion. He shuffled to the bathroom to take a shower, brush his teeth and then go to his and samus shared bedroom. He flopped onto the top bunk releasing a big sigh, he quickly got comfy in his sheets when….

You, you? Why are you here? tsumu quickly looked to where he was, on his desk? at school? head rising from his crossed arms. Did he fall asleep in class? Why is he even in class? He could see samu and suna both laughing and giggling at him. And you where hovering next to him “ tsumu you okay, you slept the entire class.” His heart racing your so close and your look of concern it made his heart melt. Atsumu has had a crush on you for a while now ever since he first met you at the beginning of the year when he sat next to you because well, you seem interesting. He thought that you were cool and fun to be around he only thought of you as a friend untill after a couple weeks of getting to know you he started acting different. His heart racing when he knew he had next period with you, or when you got a little to close his cheeks would burst into a dark shade of pink, he only noticed these things when osamu pointed them out. It took atsumu a hot minute to really In grave that omg he likes likes you and he’s been wanting to tell you for quite some time but, something’s been holding him back. What? What was it? Was it maybe the fact you would reject him? Or maybe the fact that he’s scared you would think of him differently? No, you aren’t like that,

But god just from the way you slowly move the strand of hair from his face to look at him he really did think he was gonna die. He thought he was seeing a bright light and it was either you or the heavenly gates, (he suppose that both are the same)

But when he slowly rose from his seat to grab his bag a slight pink blush appeared on his face when you grabbed the end of his uniform sleeve lightly. He looked away to notice suna and samu where gone without a trace. Where did they go? His attention was soon taken when you pulled him out of class “ hey tsumu it’s already the end of the day we should head home.” You soon grab his hand intertwining fingers with a smile. Omg your smile, what a Beautiful smile a smile he hopes he can see every day, one he can wake up to every morning- “ I’ll walk home with you today and you should get some rest at home, maybe eat something too. Can’t have you dying before your game next week.” You giggle, your little giggle was one that makes him bubbly and stupidly smile.

As the train soon left the station you and him sat next to eachother barely anyone around just a couple of elderly and few people that looked like they came from work. But the only person he could focus on was you the way you held his hand in your lap staring at the window to see the pink clouds. He felt at peace in this moment. you slowly lay your head on his shoulder closing your eyes, he shortly falls after laying the side of his head at the top of yours when he thought was this real? He suddenly becomes aware of his surroundings again to see no one is here the people who once sat in the seats no longer seemed to have even existed on the train. But you where still here. Shortly atsumu was pulled from his thoughts when you raise your head to look at him. His hand still in your lap with yours laying sweetly on his. You look at him and your eyes where the only ones that could put him in a trance, a look so filled with love, you where the only person atsumu has ever loved like this you where the only person atsumu would count every star in galaxy for if it meant you where happy. Soon taken from his imagination when he felt your hand let go of his and rest it on the side of his cheek pulling him into a kiss. He closed his eyes letting himself sink into your love his hand resting on your waist and onto the back of your neck. He’s never kissed anyone so when he felt your soft lips touch his He felt like he was in clouds, is this what it feels like to be with an angel it’s soft peaceful even. But when you pulled away it felt empty, you looked at him and said your final words

“goodmorning love.”

What?

He opened his eyes only to be met with a blurry figure on top of his left side. “god is that you”

“ no idiot it’s not god, get your ass up we have practice this weekend remember.”

Atsumu soon sees he’s staring at his beast of a brother and he realized it was a dream. You, that kiss, holding your hand, it was nothing but just a fake world his brain made up.

“Fuck” he whispers to himself as he gets up from his sheets. If only dreams where real.

#haikyuu!!#atsumu fluff #atsumu imagines #atsumu x reader #atsumu scenarios #hq atsumu #atsumu #atsumu comfort #atsumu angst #atsumu oneshot #tsumiwommie #haikyuu x reader #haikyu oneshots #haikyu scenarios

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daebraeksan · 2 years

Text

Social anxiety, and too scared and embarrassed to dance in Bokuto’s dorm room, and subsequent comforting by all/many (a group effort)

Genre: comfort, college au, pre-relationship, friendship, alternate timeline (characters are aged differently to the show);;

characters: bokuto, hinata, atsumu, osamu, suna, sakusa (primarily a bokuto comfort fic but everyone joins at the end)

Contents; social anxiety, low self esteem, abandonment issues/fear of abandonment, over analysis, stress, nervousness, emotionally sensitive reader, feeling like things aren’t going to work out, reader might seem dramatic to people … but anxiety creates life or death situations so lowkey (highkey) it is dramatic, limiting beliefs, asking for help, communicating, a supportive friend group <3, cognitive distortion: whatever the phrase for “not believing your friends like you”, cognitive distortion: foreshortened future, cognitive distortion: filtering/negating the positive/focusing on the negative, cognitive distortion: magnification/catastrophizing, reader likes/is ok with hugs, college is a scam, at least in america it is,

Wc: 7618

a/n: everyone is the same age AU: pretend all the character dynamics are the same even though they are “the same age” since they are all first years in college. Also Atsumu and Osamu are only one month younger than Bokuto anyway. Bokuto is the youngest he could possibly be for his grade (i think) i don’t care, i wanted everyone in the same fic, anyway please enjoy, hope you like it

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You met Bokuto at orientation. You both sat in the front of the room at info sessions and class introductions and became front-row-buddies. You’ve never met someone with quite his specific brand of bulldozer optimism. You liked the part of yourself you discovered during orientation, who liked keeping up with Bokuto, egging him on, and who he hyped up in return. You’ve never been friends with someone like Bokuto before. The pressure was on you to be the driving force, the energy. Left to their own devices, you weren’t sure you’d ever see your old friends outside of school.

There’s none of that pressure in your friendship with Bokuto. An invitation is on the tip of your tongue, and he beats you to it. You might have enjoyed high school a lot more if you had friends like Bokuto. You missed out on many experiences because of your circumstances, and you are still grieving those losses, but it's exciting to think about the future—maybe your experiences can be better, and different, than before. Maybe the past doesn't have to repeat. With Bokuto, you wonder if you will have the support you need to avoid feeling lonely and sad and excluded. You don’t have to feel like your social needs aren’t met.

It’s a really hopeful thought.

You’re really excited.

An unrelated fact is he was really cute.

But anyway.

That was unrelated.

The close of orientation left you aching, memories and feelings echoing in your hollow chest. You can’t wait to come back and stay here longer. You already felt attached to Bokuto. You never thought you could be friends with someone “like him.” You felt excited to be a cool, new, different person who could be friends with someone like Bokuto.

You felt excited for this year.

#~#~#

You move into your dorm on campus a week before classes start. Bokuto is a constant in your new life: you meet up with him when you finish moving in, as orientation progresses, as classes start.

You slowly meet some of his friends—so many of them. They came several weeks early to campus for volleyball, and an accelerated sneak peak of classes—the first few topics, some important projects. They were busy with their first taste of college life. It sounded like hell.

It also sounded really fun. They got to know each other really deeply, and they all seemed like friends who knew each other for a lot longer than a few weeks. Some of them were friends from the same high school, but they had all met each other through high school volleyball in some form. Those who were acquaintances before were solidly friends now. They all bonded through their pre-semester experiences, the happy and painful and difficult ones alike.

Learning about their experiences and seeing that bond from the outside zapped your nervous system through the bruises on your soul—all the certainties and fears fall like dominos: you don’t fit in, you’re lonely, you'll never get what you want, you’ll never make friends, you’ll never be happy. You’ll always face the thin mysterious layer which keeps you from interacting with and experiencing the world like other people seem to. Humans share 99.9% of their DNA with each other, and yet, there’s something wrong with you inherently, and you don’t know what it is. You don’t know how to fix it. That 0.1% is enough to keep you out of the spaces you want access to.

All of this is going on in the background which makes socializing extremely draining. In your case, social anxiety makes you seem like an introvert. It’s true that socializing is draining—but that’s because the anxiety is kicking your butt.

You’re not ready to give up yet, and you really do enjoy spending time with Bokuto. If it wasn’t for the social anxiety, you would be completely energized spending time with him.

Bokuto continues inviting you to events with his friends and you continue to go. You try not to feel pain when they do things without you. But you do. You feel the pain. You wish you didn’t. You wish you were cool and chill and had something better to do, and thus wouldn't be impacted by Bokuto not inviting you to things.

It didn't happen often. But your heart clenches when you see Bokuto and the boys out late at night on snapchat, with strobing rainbow lights and shaky camera work, or under bright sunshine, on the volleyball court, or in the mirror at the gym.

Generally, when Bokuto is doing something with his friends, he invites you, too. But you always feel like an outsider.

You wonder when you will feel like “part of the group.” You wonder if it is possible. They aren’t cold or uninviting. But you can’t believe that they would want you there.

Sometimes, they invite you to do something in particular, like some campus event, or an info session for an extracurricular activity. Sometimes they invite you to do nothing, like in one of their dorm rooms. Though, doing “nothing” always leads to something, and even then, Bokuto and his friends’ version of doing nothing is still a lot.

That’s what happened today—they don’t seem to have a set plan, but something always materializes for them. Bokuto texts you, and you don't have anything better to do, and even if you had options, you’re not certain any of them could possibly eclipse hanging out with Bokuto.

Bokuto’s dorm wasn’t too far from you, and you text him when you’ve arrived, and wait in the lobby awkwardly until he comes to get you. You smile, terrified, at the RAs at the desk, and feel the weight of potential conversation in the air. But you don’t know what to say. Also they have their laptop out. Also they are talking to each other about something personal.

You wait quietly. You look at the design on the carpet, on the walls. You look at the strange and unnecessary design choices in the wall, random parts jutting out, and weird artistic pieces dangling from the ceiling. It all seems really extra, like they are trying to compensate for something (like college being a scam.)

Bokuto is good at many things: volleyball, having an infectious laugh, and lightening the mood. He is also good at being dramatic and projecting his voice, so you hear him way before you see him. It’s actually funny from how far away his voice precedes him. When he finally emerges, you see he is surrounded by a whole gaggle of boys—actually, it’s only two, Atsumu and Hinata, but they draw the attention in the room to them. They’re like a black hole, the focal point. And yes, even though it was only two of them, they added to the noise, but Bokuto’s voice still stood out the most.

(At least to you.)

“Hey!” he hoots, arms outstretched as he approaches you.

You grin and his long legs cross the distance before you realize and get bundled up in his hug. He’s so strong and he smells nice. But you can’t say those things. Right? That would be crazy. Or creepy.

But actually, it’s Bokuto, so he might really like the compliment.

You tell him that you love hugs from him and he’s so strong and he smells nice.

Bokuto’s jaw drops.

He hugs you again, tighter.

“Thank you!” It’s almost a shout in your ear, but you’ll recover your hearing in due time. If it’s Bokuto, you don’t mind.

“Aw, _____,” Hinata coos. “Yall are so cute.”

“Wow, okay, get a room,” Atsumu snaps. “But also, what about me?”

Hinata ridicules him for being “the where’s my hug” guy while you look up in terror. This is why you didn’t want to say that. What were you thinking? You don’t know—why does everyone always misconstrue things—I mean, they’re making fun of you because you’re not attractive enough to be flirting with someone like Bokuto (if flirting was what it even was!!! Which it wasn’t!! You’re not arrogant!! You know he’s out of your league!!!!!) Right??? That’s what the crux of this is.

You’re not arrogant. This shouldn’t be happening to you.

You don’t know where to look pleadingly. G-d has forsaken you. Why?

“We could, but you bums are all literally in my room,” Bokuto snaps.

“Excuses, excuses,” Atsumu says, while you stare at all of them in shock. You suppose this is roasting. It’s all jokes. They don’t mean it.

Or do they?

But even if they mean it, it’s under the disguise of a joke, so it really never has to be brought up again. I mean how often are these people having genuine conversations about their feelings?

You don’t know.

For now, you are happy you gave Bokuto a compliment that made him happy. You wonder what he’s been up to all day. Yes, you’ve been texting and Snapchatting all day. But still. You wonder. There’s no way he’s told you everything, right?

You want to ask him, but you’re cut off by Atsumu.

“How are you?” Atsumu asks.

“Doing good, what about you?” you say.

“Same, same,” he says.

Some people ask how are you doing because they genuinely mean it, and some people ask it for small talk, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It’s not a bad thing to not be close with someone. And even people who are close might ask each other how they are doing. But you’re panicking. You’re boring and this sucks. No one is going to like you if you can’t be more interesting than this.

But what are you supposed to say? There’s nothing. How can you be interesting?

Why can’t you just be a different person without any of these problems?

Hinata asks you if there’s any extracurriculars you’re thinking of joining, and Atsumu asks if there’s any cool people on your floor, and if your RA is chill. You barely have time to acknowledge and be polite to the RA working at the front desk as you fork over your student ID with Hinata and Atsumu bombarding you with questions.

“Who’s signing you in?” the RA asks.

“ME!” Bokuto barrels through the two boys. Atsumu takes a step back, gripping the edge of the counter tight, pretending that he wasn’t about to be toppled over. Hinata goes flying, and almost bumps into two girls entering the dorm.

“Oh my god, sorry about him, are you okay?” Atsumu asks in his most flirtatious voice, and then he’s busy talking with them.

You’ve signed in and you, Hinata, and Bokuto head to the staircase.

“Atsumu—” you begin to ask.

“Serves him right,” Bokuto said, surprisingly darkly.

“He knows where we’re at,” Hinata said, waving his hand dismissively, before you can ask Bokuto what’s wrong. “He’ll be back when he’s ready.”

You want to put your hand on Bokuto’s back, or in his hand. You hope nothing serious is distressing him. You don’t want to see Bokuto sad. Or you at least want to be able to support him and comfort him while he is. But you can’t do any of those things, that would be too much. Bokuto is a very touchy-feely person, and seems to be very comfortable with physical touch, you aren’t as comfortable. And especially with being anxious about who will read into things. (You’re reading into things.) (And Atsumu, APPARENTLY.) You don’t want anyone to know anything about you (that you really like Bokuto, and you want more physical touch with him, even though it makes you nervous. You want to be closer to him, and learn more about him, and hang out more. You want all these things. And none of that should be embarrassing, but you’re still embarrassed.)

Instead, you do nothing, and let Bokuto and Hinata talk at you some more, and you give answers to their questions as best you can (you’re still boring even when you try your best. That is not an encouraging thought.) You wished you were the kind of person that could reach deep inside you in the moment of need and evolve into a different better person, that was perfect for the moment, adapting to the situation. But you’re not the main character in an anime. And evolution doesn’t come from magic anyway, it comes from hard work and practice.

You can’t fake years of regular, healthy, and safe socialization.

So here you are.

By the time you are down the hall, almost ready to enter the room, Atsumu is loping behind them to catch up.

“There’s no loyalty in this house,” Atsumu declares with a sigh, stopping right behind them, and walking into the room with them.

“Yeah, there really isn’t,” Bokuto glares.

“Why didn’t you wait for me?” Atsumu demands.

“You were busy!” Bokuto snaps.

“Wow, wow, wow, what is going on here?” Osamu asks, as everyone enters the room.

Atsumu launches into an incredibly detailed but somehow in all the wrong ways, play by play of the last three minutes.

“We’re teammates! We’re supposed to move as a unit. Why does no one get that?” he demands.

“Why do teammate rules apply to everyone except you?” Bokuto asks.

And they continue arguing.

The beds are pressed against the corner, along the wall with the door and the wall perpendicular to that. And the desks were on the other side of the room, also on perpendicular walls. There were volleyball, anime, and free university merch posters on the wall, and some photos from their high school volleyball days. Meal plans and physical therapy packets littered the desk, and textbooks piled on the floor. Shorts and hoodies hung across the backs of chairs, and over the side of hampers, though not quite making it in, a university athlete’s representation of the persistence of memory.

Suna pats the bed next to him and you crawl up to sit. Sakusa leans against the bed on the other side of you, almost perched on it.

“Hey,” you say, pleased at the invitation.

He shows you the TikTok he’s editing on his phone. Any series he does with Osamu and Atsumu will go viral, but he’s showing you clips of Bokuto he’s stringing together. You grin at the phone, and at him. He looks at you smugly.

You’re about to say something—you don’t know what, maybe a compliment or an inquiry—when you hear Bokuto stop mid sentence. The room is silent for a few beats too long, and you can no longer say what you hadn't yet thought of to say to Suna. You can barely speak to one person without an audience, so an audience would be terrible. You look up at Bokuto, expectantly, wondering what he is going to say next.

Everyone looks at him as his face contorts, in a range of expressions.

You’re about to ask him what’s wrong, but you find your voice always freezes up in front of so many people. Especially in front of these people.

“Anyway,” Osamu says, before you can build up the courage. Actually, he cuts off whatever Atsumu was going to say as well. The kind of euphoric and spiteful glee on Atsumu’s face could only mean harm—to whom, we do not know.

Maybe it was for the best.

(As long as it’s not harming you. You can’t take much more of this.)

The conversation continues around you.

Fears bubble barely beneath the surface, under your shaky, anxious smile, through the nervous fluttering of your eyelashes. No matter how much you blink, your eyes feel dry. Your eyes feel tired from focusing on something out of your grasp, that you stretch to reach, but your muscles tense in protest. You’ll never get there, and you’re hurting yourself trying.

After seeing how he is with his other friends, you’re surprised Bokuto even remembers you, or even wants to continue to hang out with you. You're surprised you hit it off so well with him in the first place.

His friends are loud and silly and brave and confident. They move with ease. They know where they’re supposed to be. They want to be here, and they are wanted.

Watching from the outside the interactions of a friend group that grew close from a shared experience hit a particular pain point screams from your heart. They flaunt their friendship and their inside jokes and their easy camaraderie, and you feel small, and extraneous, and left behind.

They are not actively antagonizing you. They're not giving you snooty looks, or whispering loudly behind your back, before you even leave the room. They are not inviting you there just to hate you, just to have someone lamer than them to ridicule. They aren’t bullying you. They are nice people. Or at least they seem to be generally minding their own business, which is volleyball, as opposed to trying to hurt someone’s feelings on purpose.

They are loud, and boisterous, and comfortable with interrupting each other, and they roast each other in a way that makes you a little scared. You aren’t that close with these people, and you would take the jokes way too seriously. And even with your closest friends, you would never joke about true insecurities. You would joke about previously established things that are comfortable to joke about, in a loving way, because you love and appreciate your friends, and don’t want to hurt them.

But it seems like roasting is an important part of a friendship, and self roasting is annoying. It takes the fun away from others. It makes you seem insecure (you are). It’s a cry for help (you don’t know what help you need, and you don’t want to ask. You don’t want anyone to know you need help.)

You are sensitive. And you are defensive because you are sensitive. You have to be defensive—you’ll get hurt. You don’t think everyone in the world is that defensive. Some of them don’t need to be. They don’t have to be so protective of themselves, because they have a baseline self esteem that allows them to weather certain things that you can’t.

You can’t be like them. You’re not like them. So, you’re trying to protect yourself.

But not having the right friends for you is painful, too.

You want to do a good job—at what? You don’t know, just in general—and you want to have the fun life you think you deserve, that you think you were promised, as a youth. It’s not fair that everyone else gets to have it, and you don’t.

You’re willing to try. People can’t say that you’re not willing.

You’re not saying you’ll do it perfectly, or even mediocrely, but you’ll try. That doesn’t stop the surmounting pressure from wishing you were perfect, or succeeding. But you want new experiences. You want to learn and grow. You came here for one reason: to be a new person. If you don’t get new experiences, you’ll stay the same person, and there will have been no point to any of this. No point to the pain you experienced in the past and no point to the pain you might experience now.

You wanted to leave your old life behind, and the old you, behind. It wasn’t serving you. It wasn’t fun. You want it to be over.

You’re already here, in this new place, and you are a different person, in some ways. You haven’t been in a situation like this that you can remember. (Maybe you blocked them all out.)

You never really thought of yourself as a shy person, but now that you need to talk to a bunch of strangers who you really want to like you, you’re terrified.

You weren't shy compared to people that were shyer than you—duh. You didn’t have a great sample size. Also you were intimidated by confident people in high school.

You don’t view yourself objectively at all. You saw yourself as “better” than the friends you had in high school—better at talking to people, friendlier, more spontaneous, more outgoing, more free—because you could not bear the thought of you being exactly like how you perceived them. But in reality you really had nothing to look down on them for.

You all had controlling parents. All of you. None of you were allowed to do fun stuff together. In fact, the reality is that they all ended up having experiences together and separately that made up the collage of “classic high school experiences you wished you had”—club trips, competitions, traveling, dating even—it was all in your head, that you were better than them. It was all your views. Your view was wrong. They were objectively living their best lives, and making the best of it, and having fun where and when they could, and you weren’t.

You had to tell yourself you were better than the friends you had in high school because you couldn't bear to be compared to them—you thought everyone viewed them as uninteresting losers, and even if that wasn’t true, they weren’t invited to parties, and they didn’t try to go to them. But you were no better than them. Your lives were basically the same on paper. Except they were happy with their circumstances. They had what they wanted. You didn’t. You were worse off than them.

Now that all of your problems are bubbling at the surface, ready to explode, now that all your faults are waiting to expose themselves, ready to destroy your life, and any possible social connections you might be able to make here, you wait for something to say to emerge in your head. It doesn’t. Half of you is following the conversation, or trying to at least. You don’t understand their slang, and you don’t understand the inside jokes, and you weren’t there for the previous hangouts they remember, and you don’t get all the references they make.

Part of you tells yourself, “what am I even doing here?”

Part of you tells yourself, you need to make your own friend group like this, so that you can have inside jokes and memories to reference later. You don’t want to make anyone else feel like how you’re feeling now, but inadvertently, someone (you) might feel left out if they were hanging out with people who all had similar experiences (them). Is that natural? You don’t blame them. You just wish for things to be different.

Part of you tells yourself you will never be able to make your own friend group like this, you better make this one work.

Part of you tells yourself you will never be able to make this work. You don’t have the social skills. You don’t have the practice. You didn’t get to try “this” out in middle or high school. This—socializing with people different than you. Socializing with people who had time, energy, and freedom to do things together. You don’t have confidence in your skills to navigate social situations. You didn’t get to mess up in low stakes situations (this is a high stakes situation).

This is hopeless.

The other half of you is outside yourself, watching these people have fun and not understanding it. You’re a fly on the wall, you have literally nothing to say. There’s no good time to jump in, and you have no thoughts on any of the subjects they are talking about. You don’t want to say something wrong and stupid, and you don’t want them to explain something basic and bore them, and stall the conversation. You don’t want to be the lull. You don’t want to be the dead weight they’re carrying around out of pity or obligation.

If they stopped inviting you or invited you out of pity, both would hurt.

There didn’t seem to be a clear transition in the conversation, but somehow, Bokuto and Atsumu have arrived at arguing who is the better dancer.

“___________! What do you think?” Atsumu asks.

Bokuto glares at him.

You look at them without answering, and you were maybe right to do so, because Bokuto immediately answers, “they would pick me.”

“I didn’t hear them say that,” Atsumu says.

“Maybe you guys should show them,” Suna says, phone already up and reading for filming.

“Dance battle!” Hinata says excitedly, and turns on some music that sounds vaguely familiar, but you’re not actually sure if you’ve heard it before.

You love watching them dance, but as they tag each other in, and continuously roast each other for their moves, you dread when the attention will be turned on you.

They try to tag you in between, but you keep shaking your head. You’re not ready. (You’ll never be ready.) For now, stalling is the safest thing.

Even Suna is tagged in, which he declines at first, since he is filming. You offer to hold his phone, and he glares at you, not quite handing off the phone to you, but Osamu drags him off the bed, and you scramble to catch the phone. Bokuto takes his place on the bed next to you. Suna sends a lingering look between you and Bokuto before he juts and jitters in the middle of the room, and everyone yells and jeers, and then sits down on the other side of you, in between you and Sakusa.

You’ve never felt cool, popular, or accepted growing up. You’ve had a much different life than what you can assume these popular athletes had in high school, and the life they will probably continue to have in college. These college athletes are young and cool. You are young too, but you don’t know what they are doing. You do not know how to be cool.

You can’t do this.

You feel so bad about yourself. Shame rises, thick coats of sludge crawling under your skin, like swamp monsters emerging from the gunk. Shame about what exactly?—you don’t know exactly what about you is wrong, so you attack everything.

It has to be something, and because you don’t know what it is, nothing is safe.

Why can’t you dance? Why can’t you just know? Why can’t you be cool and likable?

“Come on!” Hinata grins. It’s Hinata, so he couldn't have any ill motives, definitely not towards you, but in this moment, it feels like he’s egging you on. “You can choose the music!”

You shake your head again. You can’t even talk. The panic in your chest rises up and presses against your throat. Your vocal chords are frozen, squeezed. You tell yourself to breathe, but you don’t listen to yourself. You can’t.

“Why are you so shy all of a sudden?” Atsumu asks.

“Just because people don’t want to talk 24/7 doesn’t mean they are shy,” Suna pipes up.

Atsumu looks dismayed. “I didn't mean anything bad by it!”

“You’re annoying, shut up.”

Atsumu splutters dramatically. “Why does no one respect me around here?”

Hinata opens his mouth to protest, and Atsumu snaps, “I know you do.”

“Well, damn, okay,” Hinata says. “I’m sorry I said anything. Or didn’t even get to say anything, because you are so rude.”

Atsumu arches an eyebrow at him. Hinata stares back.

“Regardless, we’ve got to practice our routines for the concert,” Hinata says, seriously.

You almost want to ask if they are the ones performing, but you don't know what you don’t know, and you don’t want to seem stupid, so you don’t say anything. Plus, Bokuto mentioned something about all of them going to a concert at some point, but you remember no details about it. You’re not even sure if you’ve heard of the artists before.

Eventually, they’re all done dancing, they seemed to have moved on finally, and you wish you could say you felt triumphant and safe. You’re safe, but you feel like you’ve lost.

You’ve lost something you can never get back.

Bokuto grabs your arm.

“Hey I think I left my phone in the common room. Will you come with me to get it?”

For some reason this request dislodges something inside you. You were not expecting it. “Uh. Yeah, sure.”

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t game time,” Atsumu slides his accusation in like someone kicking down a door.

“Make sure you stop and smell the roses!” Hinata cries, his voice practically already tossing rose petals at you, with sparkles and bubbles to boot.

“Make sure Bokuto gives you one,” Osamu instructs.

“Our hallway is Paris themed,” Hinata says. “Maybe you could stop by there?”

You blink, more confused than ever.

“You know,” Hinata says.

“The hallway of love?” Osamu asks.

Bokuto hops off the bed and presents his hand to you, to help you down, which you take without thinking, and somehow, the silence that follows is the deadliest roast of all.

What have you done?

You and Bokuto step out of the room, to Suna’s faint, and dull, “have fun.”

You are pretty sure you saw Bokuto put his phone on the charger in his room, but you don’t think of that until after both of you are out the door and walking down the hallway.

You get the sense that you are being taken to the principal’s office, but that is ridiculous, and you make sure to not say that thought out loud. What are you even in trouble for anyway? Why does your brain do this.

You look up at him, searching for a clue as to what this is.

“How are you doing?” Bokuto asks.

“I’m okay,” you lie.

“Okay.” Bokuto side eyes you. He looks like he’s going to accuse you or press you for more. But he takes a detour first. “I’m happy we’re all spending more time together.”

“Me, too,” you say.

“I’m glad my friends haven’t scared you away yet.”

“Yeah,” you say. You feel like a failure. You just want to be normal. You just want to meet Bokuto’s friends and make a good first impression—and second, and third.

But you can’t.

You never figured out how to. You never practiced, so now that the stakes are high—you want Bokuto to like you so much, you want his friends to like you so much. You want this all so much.

You want things to be different from your past so much.

But you can’t magically be a different person.

“Are they bothering you?” Bokuto asks. He almost hiccups on his words when he asks, “Am I bothering you?”

You shake your head.

“Okay. If any of us were making you uncomfortable, would you tell me?” Bokuto asks. “Or tell someone?”

“You guys aren’t making me uncomfortable,” you whisper. “I’m just always uncomfortable.”

“Why?”

“Social anxiety.”

There. You said it. You’re fucked up, and you put a label on it, and now everyone knows. If they didn’t already know, for some silly reason. But they all have eyes, so you’re sure they all know.

Bokuto looks at you with pity. It could be concern or something diferent. But how are you supposed to know? “I would have never guessed that.”

You glare at him accusingly.

“Seriously!” he says.

“I am so awkward,” you state.

He shrugs. “I don’t really notice,” he says. “Not more than anyone else.”

“No one you know is awkward,” you say.

He scoffs. “Really? Literally all of them are awkward.”

“You can’t just apply awkward to everyone. It has a meaning,” you say, defensively. You’re weird. And not cool weird. Not acceptable weird. You’re just weird. You're surprised you tricked Bokuto into liking you.

That’s what’s sad, and scary—at the end of the day, Bokuto could wake up from this spell at any moment, and leave you.

That’s what this is all about. You just don’t want to be alone. You really do like Bokuto as an individual. But you also don’t want to be alone.

“You think they are cool?” Bokuto asks incredulously. “They are not cool.”

You restrain yourself from scoffing or rolling your eyes. “That’s what cool people would say,” you point out gently, and dully.

“You’re cool.”

You don’t know why he’s not getting it. “I’m not cool,” you correct him. “I like you.”

You look up at him, with eyes threatening to water. You don't want to say “I have no idea why.” That’s how you feel. You already feel so negative, and they are having so much fun and you aren’t. You’re different. You’re stupid and awful and a failure, and you wish you could just have fun in a normal way like everyone else. And not be so scared and upset all the time.

“I should just go.”

Bokuto looks alarmed. “Okay.” Bokuto says, but he doesn’t look okay with that. “I wish I could make it better. But I know I can’t, at least not magically, or easily. And I know you’re probably going through things I don’t understand. Or just don’t know yet about you, since we’re still getting to know each other, and stuff. I want you to do what’s right for you. But I don’t want you to go. And I want to be there for you.” He blurts out the ending. His hand jerks in an aborted motion.

You want to reach out and grab his hand.

“I just. I’m not having fun.”

He sighs, and looks up at the ceiling, exasperated. “I’m sorry my friends are boring. They’re so stupid. What would be fun for us to do that you would also want to do, if we all hung out together?”

“No. Like.” You don’t know how to explain that his friends are fun, you want to have fun doing the things they are doing. You want to go to sports games, and you want to go dancing, and you want to go to parties.

You’ve just never done those things before. You’ve had nowhere to practice. And now you have to do it for the first time in front of people you really want to impress.

You want them to like you. You want them to accept you.

It’s so much pressure.

“You are way cooler than them,” Bokuto adds, infuriatingly.

“That is not true,” you say. It is imperative that Bokuto understands reality. You don’t want him to say stupid stuff because he thinks it might make you feel better. You don’t want him to lie to you. “But thank you,” you say, because you don’t know Bokuto to be a liar. He might legitimately think you are cool.

Which is literally insane, but.

Why else would he be friends with you?

You aren’t comfortable with that line of reasoning, so you need to jump ship immediately. You study Bokuto’s face, in case anything interesting or more dramatic is happening in the moment, than what is happening in your head.

Bokuto looks at you like you’re crazy, but he doesn’t want to invalidate your feelings. But still. He does not agree with you at all. He doesn’t want to lose this argument, but he also doesn’t want to lose sight of the overarching point of this conversation. He needs to stay focused. “How are you defining cool?”

“Socially accepted. Everyone likes them.”

“Atsumu is very divisive,” Bokuto pipes up.

“That’s a feature, not a bug.”

Bokuto bursts out with a savage, sharp sound, and you look over to him in surprise. You don’t remember that exact kind of laugh coming from Bokuto before. You feel a deep, lingering sense of pride. You slurp it up. You want to slather the feeling all over you. You never want to forget this. You want this to mean something. You wish it could mean something (something permanent).

He looks at you in momentary embarrassment.

“I can’t with you,” he says with a grin.

You smile back at him, genuinely pleased.

And the insecurities swoop in to make sure you aren’t enjoying anything, to make sure you’re not having a good time, because it’s not safe to do those things. It’s not safe to let your guard down. And also having fun isn’t for you. That’s not allowed. Those were the rules you grew up with. That was your understanding. Other people had fun, but they were allowed—they had different rules, so it was okay for them. People had different rules. People were raised differently. You don’t know why the world is that way. It seems unfair but you have no one you can complain about that to. No one will listen to you. Maybe no one on earth has control over that.

The truth is you like hanging out with Bokuto. The truth is you want to monopolize his time. The truth is you wish you could hang out with him more. The truth is you wish he would pick you. The truth is you want to be his favorite.

You cannot express any of this to anybody. You don’t want to be creepy, you don’t want to be possessive.

You want a friend. You want to matter. You want to feel safe, and liked, and accepted.

You want social connection.

You hate how attached you are to him. He has so many friends. He’s not going to have time for you.

But he still made time for you. He still invited you to hang out with his friends.

But that’s just because he is nice.

He is so nice.

You hate when people are popular and nice. It’s like please, pick a lane.

You’re honestly the mean one in this situation. Not that you would actively be mean to other people or put them down. But that rule doesn’t apply to how you treat yourself.

“He’s a goofy dancer,” Bokuto continues.

You cannot ever tell Bokuto that you think all of his friends are attractive. Not as attractive as Bokuto. But almost as attractive.

You nod.

“What are you thinking about?” Bokuto asks.

You shrug.

He elbows you gently.

“I don’t want to inconvenience you,” you say.

“You aren’t,” he says. “If dancing is not your thing, it’s fine,” Bokuto says. “We can tell them to fuck off.”

You are startled. You don’t know what to say.

“Tell who to fuck off?”

You stiffen. Oh, no, no, no. You turn around.

The gaggle of boys left the room, and are approaching you.

“We missed you,” Hinata says.

“Aww,” Bokuto coos, but Hinata was obviously looking directly at you.

You stare at him, bashful and pleased. You want to believe this.

“Why is Bokuto hogging you all to himself?” Hinata asks.

“You came to visit me in the first place, right?” Atsumu asks.

Bokuto gapes at them.

“Guys,” he starts.

“We wanted to know what was wrong,” Hinata says.

“Were we making you uncomfortable?” Osamu asks.

You were very uncomfortable. But is it their fault? You wish it was that simple. You are the fuck up here, not them.

“You need to stop pressuring people,” Sakusa says. “You guys are stupid.”

“Maybe you need to get to know them more before you dance in front of them? Dancing is a scary thing,” Bokuto says.

“Art is a vulnerable thing to do in front of strangers. That’s perfectly understandable,” Sakusa says.

“Art needs to be shared! We’re all friends here!” Atsumu exclaims.

“What you’re doing isn’t art!” Sakusa snaps.

Atsumu gapes. “Hey! Don’t gatekeep art from me!”

“Let’s see some fucking art, then we’ll talk!”

“Too Cool To Dance Over Here, am I right?” Atsumu glares.

“As is _____,” Suna adds.

“Don’t drag me into this,” you hiss.

“You will get into this,” Atsumu slams his fist into this other palm. “One way or another, we will bring you down to our level.”

“Don’t let them,” Sakusa whispers.

“As if you aren’t already scraping the bottom of the barrel with us,” Suna says.

“Don’t you love his sunny disposition?” Atsumu preens.

You nod.

“Don’t encourage him! If he’s bothering you, you need to speak up. If any of us are acting stupid, you need to tell us,” Atsumu demands.

You scoff and shake your head.

“What’s that about?” Osamu asks.

“I’m new here,” you say. “I can’t possibly tell you guys how to act.”

“But we want to treat you how you want to be treated,” Bokuto says.

You side eye him. And also try not to cry. It is such a simple statement, something people learn in elementary school. You never want to inconvenience people. If you are too much of a burden, too much trouble, why would anyone be friends with you? They could just hang out with someone easier to deal with. Over time, you were always concerned with making sure no one is ever mad at you, but you never thought that statement applied to you. Weird!

“I can’t say that,” you whimper.

“You must,” Atsumu pats your back gently. “You’ll get better at it! You can practice with me!”

“He’s offering to annoy you, so you can tell him to shut up,” Osamu says. “I wouldn't take the deal, though.”

You and Atsumu gape at each other.

“Yeah, maybe not that plan,” Hinata says. “But it’s okay if you’re shy!! They’re all so scary the first time you meet them! I was terrified of them when I first met them!” Hinata explains.

“Wait, really?” you look at him, hope lurching in your chest.

“Yeah!” Hinata grins. “But once you get to know them, they’re awesome!”

“They’re just fine,” Sakusa corrects.

“They’re okay,” Suna adds.

“Guys, please,” Bokuto pleads.

“Mostly, they’re stupid,” Osamu says.

Bokuto glares at them.

You’re grateful for Hinata. You are shocked that someone so brave and happy could ever be afraid of anyone.

You’re grateful for all of them. This is all so much and is not making any sense, but maybe you could accept the kindness, just this once? As uncomfortable as it is, this would be something new. A new experience to add to your collection. You’re on your way to being a different and better person. With their help. Accepting help is okay.

Too many new things at once. You want to abort the mission right away, but you take a deep breath. You’re safe here, you’re pretty sure. You trust them. If you stay in the discomfort for just a little longer, something really amazing could come from it. (It already has.)

“So, anyway, you’ll come back to the room with us?” Hinata asks.

“I’m hungry,” Atsumu says.

“Oh, wait, me too,” Hinata looks at him in awe.

“Okay, so we’re all going to eat together?” Osamu asks.

“What do you want to eat?” Hinata asks.

“Run away now, you don’t want to be here for this,” Sakusa says.

“I’m going wherever ___ wants to eat,” Bokuto states.

“Okay, so I guess that means we’re all going there,” Osamu chuckles.

“Why can’t we be together all the time, forever?” Hinata sighs.

“You need to take a nap, codependent-ass,” Sakusa snaps.

“Can you let someone say something nice and cute and exaggerated without going all PhD, Dr. Sakusa?” Atsumu groans.

Sakusa of course does not dignify that with a response.

You all decide on a place together to eat, and start to head over there. You almost forget to grab your student ID from the front desk. You are about to confidently walk out the door, even though everyone else who checked in already was waiting at the desk. They giggle at you, roast you, and you grin sheepishly at them. It’s not so bad, this time around.

“Why don’t you hold my hand when you’re uncomfortable?” Bokuto exclaims, when you're all out the door together, on your way. “Take baby steps. We can all help you speak up.”

“He just wants you to hold his hand, don’t listen to him,” Atsumu informs you, like he’s made a deduction in his mind palace.

“You can hold any of our hands,” Hinata offers.

“No!” Bokuto cries.

Hinata blinks at him innocently. “Why not?”

“Just text me, and we’ll leave, whenever they get annoying,” Sakusa says.

“Why do they have to text you? You can text me, too,” Osamu says.

“You don’t have to text me, you can say it to my face, and to all of their faces, and we will still leave,” Atsumu says.

“Literally none of you have their number,” Suna says.

They all turn to look at you, a wall circling around you.

You look around, grateful, scared, and literally waffling back and forth between being about to cry and not.

“_____,” Atsumu begins, handing you their phone.

“Just make a group chat with ____ and everyone can add their number from that,” Sakusa says.

“Wow, that’s so smart,” Hinata says.

“I guess he really does have a PhD,” Atsumu says.

“I am concerned with what kinds of things you guys are impressed with,” Sakusa says.

Bokuto is in charge of making the group chat. You watch him stare at his phone. He catches your gaze over his phone and grins at you. You smile back. You’re lucky to have found such a sweet and caring friend group. Maybe the stakes aren’t as high as you thought. Or maybe they are, but you’re already here. You’ve already won. Clearly they already like you. If they really didn’t want you there, they wouldn't invite you. (Maybe Bokuto wants you there, and they all like Bokuto, but they don’t like you, and they let you stay as a favor to Bokuto? What’s the worst case scenario? But now, that doesn’t seem likely.) It’s a lot safer of an environment in which to practice all your deficiencies than you originally thought.

Maybe things are okay.

That’s also not something you're used to thinking, but it’s something you can start practicing now.

And you are grateful for that.

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angelatsumu · 2 years

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musical theatre.

notes: fluff, slightly ooc atsumu, absolutely adorable <3, not properly formatted or proof-read, gn!reader

WC: 745

miya atsumu, msby jackals star athlete, loves musical theatre and the like. he claims it’s your fault, but osamu’s already confirmed that he had always had the Beetlejuice bug. you often come home on the days you work later him to find him dancing in his underwear in the kitchen as he finishes dinner, poorly harmonizing with the Warblers version of some mid-2000s song. you spook him every time by singing along with him, but he quickly returns to his jam session as you fall in line, helping him set the table for dinner.

miya atsumu, the muscial theatre enthusiast, enjoys a good love song; he’s a hopeless romantic at heart, and the way musical characters convey romance tugs on his heart strings in a way very similar to how you often do. you’re always seranaded by your loverboy when the two of you are alone—in the car, the house, on a desolate isle in the grocery store. atsumu thinks it’s what real couples do, serenade one another. he’s not ashamed to embarrass you in the checkout line if you pretend to ignore his performance, voice getting louder until your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

miya atsumu—Hamilton:the musical critic and Alexander Hamilton anti—hadn’t exactly explained to his team his music taste. honestly, the topic never came up, and he was far too prideful to express his preference for the Glee version of ‘Somewhere Only We Know’ because he figured his teammates would be intolerant. unfortunately for him, his spouse had not been so privy to this level of secrecy. while you were hosting Koutaro, Kiyoomi, and Shoyo, you let it slip to the men that you and Atsumu were going to visit Broadway for your anniversary because it was just in time for Atsumu to see ‘Waitress’ for real. Shoyo’s eyes squint at you in skepticism whike Koutaro’s face held a bewildered expression. your brows knit together as you rethink your statement in an attempt to pinpoint the source of their confusion, but you’re interrupted by atsumu walking into the room with the takeout you all had delivered. all eyes shift to him, and the two more lively of the guests immediately have diarrhea of the mouth. Atsumu brushes off their silly teasing and overly ignorant questions, but he continues to shoot glares at you all evening.

“ya mean, ya know that?” atsumu huffs as he hears you enter the kitchen, the little patter of your feet along the floor still making his heart throb after two years of marriage. you roll your eyes, making your way to the kitchen sink where he stood, washing the few dishes from the gathering. your sigh contently, hands wrapping around his lower abdomen and clasping at the front. he relaxes into your touch as he scrubs away. “can’t believe ya outed me, baby. ‘sposed to be just fer us,” he whines dramatically, overselling the betrayal narrative just a bit. you sigh once more, inhaling his scent as your buried your face in the soft material of his shirt. “’m sorry baby, was just excited for the trip is all,” you mumbled into his back, and he lets out a dramatic huff. “’s okay, love. ‘m excited, too. bo’ said he’ll give In the Heights a try,” “hm? how’d you manage that?” atsumu laughs at the hint of tiredness in your voice, your reply coming out more disinterested than you intended. as he dries off the dishes before setting them aside he mentions, “told ‘im Vanessa was hot,” atsumu giggles boyishly, and you jokingly head-but him in the back. he dramatically simpers in search of an apology, but you merely nuzzle over the area of attack. he hums in response, shaking his head at how cute you were.

at the next day of practice, atsumu comes into the locker room to be met by the sound of “Candy Store” from the Heathers musical. his cheeks warm at the sound, certain that his team was just teaming him. as he rounds the corner to approach his locker he finds Shoyo, Koutaro, and Kiyoomi standing on different benches with hair brushes in hand as they sing along proudly. Atsumu grins lovingly at his friends before shaking his head, pressing onward to his locker. as he preps his things for practice, he secretly thanks you for telling his not-so-dirty little secret.

reblogs + likes appreciated <3

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satorisoup · 1 month

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PUT YOUR HEAD ON MY SHOULDER .ᐟ

ft. hq boys and their acts of intimacy <3

cw : fluff + sfw. timeskip! setting. mentions of bathing together.

ᰔ BOKUTO + BUBBLE BATHS

even though he may be a little too burly to fit comfortably with you in the tub, and it takes a couple minutes to get situated without getting squashed, bokuto loves to bathe with you. he enjoys running the warm water, not too hot, not too cold, but just right. he’ll mix in a nice scented soap that makes bubbles rise high in the bathtub, lavender and citrus you can smell in the mist of your bathroom. he’ll hold your hands under the water, and maybe splash you a couple times, but he shows he cares with the delicate touches he leaves on your skin as he washes away the worries of the world with a sponge of suds. he’ll lather your hair in your favorite shampoo, careful to not snag any knots, and rinse the strands with such gentleness you can barely even feel it. and when you’re all done, he’ll wrap you in a warm towel, snug and clean while he kisses your damp cheeks with a huge smile.

ᰔ KITA + FLOWERS

kita vowed that when he started dating you, he would never allow a week to go by without your vase being filled with a new bouquet. he’ll come home to you, new flowers wrapped in the palm of his hands as he kisses you hello. he loves the the way you get excited, eyes twinkling at the delicate petals and floral scent as you thank him over and over. he’ll watch you with a fond smile as you carefully take them in your grasp, setting them into a pretty vase that makes your home light up with color. he won’t let you see the flowers die, always keeping one for himself so he knows when it’s time to replace them. he’ll always tell you the meaning of the bouquet he got, or leave a pretty note tied around the stems. he buys a different type of flower every time, because he knows you’ll enjoy the variety. he adores you just as much as you adore the beautiful flowers.

ᰔ ATSUMU + MASSAGING YOU

atsumu has talented hands from years of playing volleyball, and he puts them to good use when you complain that you’re sore. he’ll knead at the expanse of your skin, smiling to himself as you sigh in content. he’ll rub away the tiredness of your muscles, gentle but calculated touches everywhere you could need. he likes to hold your hands in his, massaging from your fingers all the way up to your arms, and back down to your hands again. he’ll lay your sock-clad feet in his lap, squeezing and rubbing the ache away with his fingers. he’ll sit you on his lap, massaging the discomfort of your cramping shoulders until your melting into his touch. he won’t be rough, making sure his touch is tender and soft while he works the knots out. he kindly kisses your skin when he’s done, and feels that it’s a mission accomplished when you tell him you feel much better.

ᰔ OSAMU + FEEDING YOU

as long as osamu is around, you will always have a full plate. he’s always in the kitchen, a small and sacred book of his ma’s recipes standing proud on an easel. you don’t remember the last time you’ve heard your stomach grumble, because he’s already sliding a bowl your way. he loves how domestic it feels, to use the recipes he once enjoyed as a kid and serve them to you on a silver platter. he likes that you’re his personal taste tester, giving him a thumbs up with full cheeks as you chew. when your sick, he’ll insist on feeding you, hot spoon of soup between his fingers, his hand cusped at the bottom to catch any that falls. he’ll wake you up in the early mornings to tell you the food is ready, and sometimes surprise you with breakfast in bed. he’ll kiss your chubbed cheeks as you munch on one of his special onigiris, and ask you if you want another until your belly is full.

ᰔ AKAASHI + READING TO YOU

akaashi enjoys reading to you every chance he gets. a book held in the palms of his hands, licking his thumb every time he turns the page. he’ll have you curled up to his side, or sat between his legs, as he reads aloud the words imprinted on the page. he’ll add emotion to his voice at the important parts, and he’ll glance at your face to see your reaction. his voice is soft and soothing as he reads, occasionally moving his hand towards your hair to gently caress the top of your head. when it’s nighttime, he reads to you almost as if it’s a bedtime story, bedside lamp warming the room with it’s light as he flips through the pages. chapter after chapter he brings you closer to sleep, pages like a lullaby of prompts and fiction. he’ll pause when he notices your reactions have gone silent, breathing evened out as you lulled into a quiet slumber. he’ll smile as he puts a bookmark between the spine, already anticipating tomorrow when he can continue to read you the next chapter.

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liquidcatt · 1 month

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Even though he’s spent years being a professional volleyball player, his hands were oh so gentle. From the way he held you close while sleeping, to the way he softly cupped your face, wiping away your tears, to the way he held your hand, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. He makes it better by kissing them to show you how much love he has for you. And you wouldn’t have it any other way

Hinata, Bokuto, Ushijima, Kageyama, Atsumu, Suna, Kiyoomi, Oikawa, Tsukishima, Hoshiumi (+ your fav)

#hinata x reader #bokuto x reader #ushijima x reader #kageyama x reader #atsumu x reader #suna x reader #kiyoomi x reader #oikawa x reader #tsukishima x reader #hoshiumi x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu comfort #haikyuu #my writing

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natriae · 10 months

Text

10:23pm

"can i tell ya a secret"

"sure" you whispered in response as you snuggled deeper into Atsumu's neck. The two of you had just gotten home from a long day at work and were ready to fall asleep in each other's arms.

"i thought," he started, giggling a bit, "i thought ya had a crush on sunarin for a long time" you felt him shake his head back and forth lightly before continuing, "i was stupid though"

Without seeing his face clearly you could tell he was scrunching his nose remembering how oblivious he was to your love.

"nah he's not my type," you teased as you moved your body completely over his using him as a bed.

"oh yeah, what is your type?" 'tsumu questioned, wanting to see you face flush from embarrassment. His hand reached for your hair petting it to convince you to lean up and look at him in the face. You lifted your arms up and used your forearms to keep you lifted above his head. Subconsciously, his hands wrapped around your waist keeping you stationed over his lean body.

You giggled as you leaned down so your noses touched as told him, "i like boys who are loud and kinda annoying," you watched his face pout at the comment before leaning down and giving a soft kiss on his lips, "and i like boys who are twins, and love to play volleyball," you furthered your reasoning with your hands playing with his hair.

"oh well that doesn't set me apart to much," he prodded. You moved your legs so they rested on each side of his waist and felt the beginning of a boner form in his boxers. You shook your head and kept talking knowing how much this was fulling his ego.

"i like boys who seem come off as gay," you commented, reminding him that you thought he had a thing for Sakusa before you really knew him. You smiled at his reaction before whispering, "i like boys who have really pretty brown eyes that look a little yellow in the sunlight. I like boys who get pouty when someone does something kind for them," immediately thinking of when he started tearing up at the fact that you and osamu worked hard to make him nice lunches for the Olympics.

"i love boys who have big egos even though it gets on my nerves sometimes," you watched his pouty lips turn into a smirk as red flooded his face in pride. You smiled back and grinded lightly into him as you spoke your next words, "i love boys who are such gentlemen, but whisper dirty comments to me when we're supposed to be serious," you couldn't help but let out a big smile thinking about all the times he's ruined professional dinners by accidentally making you blush to hard. You leaned down and left little kisses up his neck to his jaw, "i looovvee boys who have big bushy eyebrows,"

kiss

"boys who have big meaty thighs"

kiss

"boys who always have a big smile on their face just to cheer everyone else up"

kiss

"and i especially love boys who are super protective and possessive,"

"still can't tell if yer describin' me" he teases with his hands interlocked behind his head and his eyes closed.

"oh really," You leaned up, "i like boys who are lowkey perverts, but won't admit to it,"

His body immediately shot up and held you on his lap, "hey! that's not nice," he shouted with his eyebrows drawn together. You laughed at his reaction before holding his face in your hands.

"i love boys who love their family," you said to cool him down leaving a light kiss on his nose.

Reaching down between you body you pulled his hard cock out of his boxers and moved your panties to the side before inserting it.

You left the joking aside and continued your affirmations as you tried to sink further down his cock without being prepped. "i love boys who's name's start with A, and who love dying their hair because it sets them apart"

"i love boys who love animals and will always swerve on the road if it means the animals are safe." you moved further down his cock, but the moment wasn't sexual. He turned the two of you over so you were on your back as he held himself on top of you. It was nothing more then two people in love.

You stared into his eyes and said, "my type is you and only you". The strong man leaned down and left a small kiss on your lips before letting himself relax complete over your body. He was like a big soft weighted blanket. One arm you had wrapped around his back while the other messaged his hair. "'sumu," you whispered into the night air of the master bedroom, but there was no response just quiet snores from the man on top of you. You giggled and continued to message his scalp.

Moments like these were important, moments where Atsumu was recognized for himself. Miya Atsumu a man who loves his mom more than anything, and would drop everything if his brother needed him, not Miya Atsumu MSBY star setter, not Olympic champion Miya Atsumu, not Osamu's twin, or the golden fox, but his own ordinary person. Who was important for just being himself. <3

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #atsumu miya #atsumu imagine #haikyuu atsumu #atsumu #atsumu smut #atsumu fic #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu #hq #haikyuu smut #haikyū!!#haikyuu comfort

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sexyandcringe · 10 months

Text

Warning(s): implied racism (NOT by tsumu or his fam!!), just reader havin dark thoughts, suggestive but not too much, talk about 'accident' kids but it's all in good fun.

Content: BROWN/BLACK READER! angsty a little bit but mostly comfort and fluff !!! Atsumu asking for consent <3

A/N: this is so, sooo badly written guys 😭 i did not bother to read it more than thrice and the ending is so cringe lmfao, so yeah whatever. I hope it makes someone smile, that's all i want!

It's a weird feeling.

The one you are feeling right now as Atsumu's arms hug you tight from behind, his breathe tickling your neck and little kisses are littered all over it. It's not unpleasant. It feels comfortable, safe.

You still can't believe that Atsumu is your boyfriend.

Like come on, let's be real. Why would anyone like him be in love with someone like you?

But Miya Atsumu convices you that he is utterly head over heels for you, and you trust him.

He has shown you multiple times proofs of his love to you and you are so grateful for everything he does for you. Your heart is filled with so much love for him it might explode soon.

You always believed that you were pretty enough to fuck, but not enough to make people stay in your life. People finding you physically attractive was nothing new to you, but someone wanting to spend the rest or life lives with you? That's something you never heard of (nor hoped for) in your entire life.

Until Atsumu came in.

He was kind to you. A kindness that wasn't allowed to you throughout your childhood. A kindness that makes your heart cry because what the hell did you do to deserve him?!

And now he is your boyfriend and he looks at you like you're the most beautiful thing in this world. He is staring at you now, his honey eyes searching for your soul, trying to understand what goes through your pretty little head.

You blush furiously.

"My parents want to meet you." he suddenly says.

You freeze.

Fear seeps through your veins and your hands start to shake. A multitude of thoughts run in your mind and you try try try to appear unbothered and cool. But It's impossible with Atsumu.

"If that is okay with you, of course!! I dont want to pressure you into this." he says, gesturing with his hands as to emphasize the words.

You look at him uncomfortably, not knowing how to explain your thoughts to him. Of course you want to meet his parents, you want to know everything about him and be everywhere he has ever been, you want to know the people he loves and and the people he hates.

But trauma isn't this easy to overcome and it's even harder when your hypothesis have been confirmed over and over again: parents hate you. It's not an opinion to you, it's something unavoidable, a fact that you can't delete from your mind.

In all your previous friendships and relationships, your friend's or partner's parents have disliked you and asked their son to be less close, less friendly, less loving to you. You hoped and hoped and hoped that maybe this time would be different, you acted like it didn't affect you, like you didn't care. you hoped that your ex's parents weren't like that, but you were a fool. You knew inside what you were expecting and eventually you got what you wanted to avoid: his parents subtly told him to stop inviting you over. It started like this. Later, they asked him to come home earlier, to spend less time with you, and slowly, very, very slowly, everything fell apart.

You always knew the reason of their behaviour, it was nothing new to you after all, but it hurt every single time. It hurt back then, and it still hurts now to imagine what would happen if you met Atsumu's parents. They would see you, act nice and welcoming, make you a warm coffee and offer you a snack, but the second you leave, they'll have a talk with Atsumu. Something along the lines "She's a nice girl.. But i think you could do better.." or "You should think thoroughly about this...".

All this, because you are different from them. Your skin colour is different, your culture is different, your existence is different.

Not even your personality could compensate that kind of gap; you don't even know how to talk to parents, you barely talk to your own.

How do you explain this to Atsumu? That you are terrified, absolutely horrified with the idea of his parents hating you and him walking away from you to not disappoint them.

You decide that you are tired of all this.

"Sure" you say against your will.

You don't want to lose Atsumu, you don't want your past to happen again, but you have no choice. You would rather end the pain here than wait more months or years in which you get closer to Atsumu, just to be left devasted again.

End it now, end it all.

The day comes way sooner than you thought, than you hoped, but Atsumu is eager for it, and you can't suppress a sad smile when you see him all happy and giggly as he drives you to his home.

You try your best not to ruin his mood, this is as much about him as you, he told you he never brought a girl to his house before, all his exes didn't last enough to make it until his house.

Soon, he is parked in his modern style house's garage and you can feel anxiety creeping up your spine.

His house is pretty, a yellow painting with plants and flowers hanging from the balcony and at the entrance of the door. He has little garden with a little dwarf statue holding a cat, some leaves flying messily from one of the small bushes.

He doesn't ring nor knocks (duh, it's his own house), and opens the door.

You notice little details hanging around the walls, like a picture of him with Osamu and their dad, little hands holding a volleyball and a big smile on their face. Or the wooden shelf where all the keys are stacked in a ceramic bowl. You recognize the decoration on it, a "prothesis" in black and golden.

Atsumu invites you into the living room, letting you sit on the couch as he goes to the kitchen, where you assume his parents might be.

"Papa, Ma-" you hear him talk, but he stops in his tracks and you understand the reason when you hear him yell speak again: "Please, we literally have a guest over, you can have your baby making session later, in your room!"

"I was JUST kissing her, you little shit. You act like you've never seen two lovers kiss!" a male's voice replies back.

"You two stop fighting! Where is she Tsumie?" another voice, this time coming from a female.

You giggle at the petname you discovered of Atsumu and you are sure you're going to call him like this like, forever.

At that your heart clenches again.

Forever huh? If only it was this easy.

You get up when you finally see his parents coming out of the kitchen, followed by their son who gives you a bright grin.

"Hello." you bow, "I'm Y/N, Atsumu's garfield. AH- UM I mean, I mean girlfriend!" you blush furiously and hear Atsumu's suppressed laughter. You want Mother Earth to suck you in herself and make you disappear forever.

His mother's laugh makes your tense shoulders loose, "Nice to meet you Garfield." she jokes as she hugs you. You blush again. You have already messed this up.

"Hello sir." you bow to his father and you are hoping that his reply won't be too dry. If your communication skills with parents are bad, specifically, with fathers, they are the worst. At least mothers tried to hide their disgust and hatred towards you, but the father never cared about any of that. Not like they were outwardly mean, but they would just give you a dryass greeting and get out of the house (or shut themselves in their room). You are terrified of his father hating you, but your mind blanks out when Atsumu's dad reaches out to give you a hug, too. "It's so good to meet you, sweetie." he says.

You nearly fall from the shock but regain your composure soon enough. What the hell. What's this? Decent human beings?!

"It's nice to meet you, too."

His father's smile is kind and you wonder if it's all an act, a disgusted face hidden behind an evil grin, but really, it looks so innocent and pure you can't really imagine this man ever being angry at anyone at all.

He speaks again, "Make yourself comfortable, me and Atsumu's mother are going to make you lunch, what would you like to eat?"

You put your hands in front of you "Anything is fine really! I'm not picky! As long as eggplants aren't involved!" You joke, "Thank you!"

His parents smile at you and leave some privacy to you and Atsumu, who is now taking you upstairs to his room.

Fuck, Atsumu's room. You are about to enter his room. Atsumu's room. Him and you, alone. On a bed. Fuck. You didn't even think about this, too worried about his parents.

When he opens the door, it's exactly how you imagined it. White and blue walls with a lot of posters messily arranged, two volleyballs sitting on the floor and a gaming pc. Well, it is how you imagined it but less messy, you assume he cleaned up today before picking you up. What a cutie.

"You can sit wherever you want." Atsumu takes his shoes off and falls on his bed; you follow him and sit on his lap. He grins. "Didn't know you were that eager fe' me."

"You said I can sit wherever I want, and I want to sit," you point at his lap, "here."

It's surprising how comfortable you feel around Atsumu, as if the interaction with his parents didn't happen just 30 seconds ago, as if you weren't making scenarios in your head about when he will, finally, leave you.

"They look nice, your parents." your voice is a whisper for only his ears to hear.

"They are nice, sweetheart."

"Well, I wouldn't have known, I'm scared of parents."

He laughs at that, thinking you are joking- or maybe not - cradling your face in his hands. "My love, I have been telling them about you since, like, forever, they literally already loved you even before knowing you. So don't get stupid ideas in your little brain."

"Okay first of all, my brain is not "little", you fuckface," you point to him, "and secondly, yeah... thanks for the comfort." God you are terrible with words.

He squishes your face and kisses your puckered lips, "I love you." he says between kisses and you can practically feel his love all over you. You want to stay like this forever. He lets his hands wander on your body, stopping just right over your hips, under your shirt. His kisses get more heated as he pulls you tighter against him. His lips are everywhere, on your lips, your chin, your collarbone, neck, shoulders, "Y/N..." he breathes "Can I?" he asks with his fingers playing with the hem of your blouse.

Thousands of thoughts are running in your head and you don't know what to do or say, you want him, yes, but not now, not like this while his parents are downstairs and it's your first day over his house. You hesitate, not knowing how he will react if you tell him that you want to wait.

You are still thinking what to reply when his hands stop their movement, his eyes searching for yours.

"Don't be scared. I won't be mad, nor disappointed if you are not ready."

And god you want to scream, cry and punch holes in every wall you see because this man is so, so gentle, so kind, so perfect. He is everything every girl could dream of. Just for you.

You hug him, play with his golden hair, "Atsumu, I love you, and trust me when I say that I want you. I just don't want to do it now, if that's okay with you. I want to wait."

Communication with Atsumu comes easy to you. Everyone thinks he is not considerate of people's feelings and is rude, arrogant and what not, but you have come to learn that with you he actually has high emotional intelligence, he understands you like no one else and he does not act like a child with anger issues like people think he is. You are grateful for that.

"No problem at all baby." is all he says before throwing you on the bed and tickling you until you can't breathe anymore.

You both play fight, cuddle, make out and look at his old album pictures until his mother knocks the door, inviting you to eat lunch.

You follow them downstairs, sitting on the table next to Atsumu and in front of his mother, his father sitting adjacent to you.

His parents ask you a lot of questions related to university/work, family, friends and how you and Atsumu met (you tell them he asked for your number first and you rejected, making Atsumu whine. "ya weren't s'pposed to tell em that Y/N!"); you get to know them better too, his father is really good at cooking apparently and you wonder if Osamu got it from him, and his mother used to play in a rock band back in university as the bassist. So fucking cool, you think.

"Why did you stop?" you ask her, hesitating, wondering if you might touch some sensitive subject.

She laughs, "because this little shit here" she slaps on her husband's shoulder, "got me these other two little shits in ma belly!"

Your eyes widen in shock. What the fuck? Did she just out loud told Atsumu (and Osamu) that he is a mistake?!

"Ma, stop saying that as if we're an accident!" Atsumu yells frustrated. "It's not what you think Y/N. They decided that on their own, so my mom left the band after they both agreed to move in together and start a family. I am not an accident, nor is Samu."

"You won't let me spice up my life story, will you?!"

"There's nothing spicy in telling your child that he is a mistake, what the hell-"

"Okay okay calm down you too! Stop acting like kids! Y/N is losing her mind." it's his father now talking and you scratch your head, a small confused smile on your face.

Is this how normal families joke around?

Anyways, they are all smiling and laughing so you assume that's normal chit chat in the Miya household, so you join them, making fun of Atsumu and the way he always licks his lips after drinking anything, the little "chip chip" sounds he make with his tongue and how he actually loves being made fun of (he's a masochist).

The day's over earlier than you expected and you can't actually believe you had a good time. You were laughing and making jokes with his parents and they did not look at you weird.

They invite you over again and after a few weeks you meet them again and this time you cook with them and it's fun.

You realize not all parents hate you and the past does not define you. You have every right to be happy and be loved for who you are. You feel loved and accepted and really, it's all you could have asked for in this life.

You truly are blessed.

Reblogs are really appreciated!

#atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu x yn #haiku x reader #atsumu comfort #atsumu fluff #haiku fluff #angst to fluff #comfort #atsumu x brown reader #atsumu x black reader #haikyuu x brown reader #haikyuu x black reader #haikyuu comfort #haikyuu x yn

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bokubear · 2 years

Text

Haikyuu!! — you’re his kids teacher

❥ including ; ( timeskip! ) atsumu miya, akaashi keiji, tsukishima kei, iwaizumi hajime

❥ genre ; single dad hq boys, fluff, IWAIZUMI, cute awkward dads :((

❥ notes ; i needed to do this.. desperately

Atsumu was excited for his little tike’s first day of kindergarten, having prepared the twin girls’ matching backpacks and pigtails beforehand. But upon dropping them off, his jaw nearly touched the floor. There you stood, smiling and beckoning the families in. And even while he stumbled to even speak coherent sentences, you considerately assured him that, “they’ll be fine I promise.” As if he was hardly functioning because of his daughters. He was, yes, but you. Holy crap. Nonetheless he attended every single parent-teacher meeting dressed a little too-nicely to just be coming to listen to his girl’s grades. Every chance he got he’d slip in a little remark about how ‘stunning you looked today’ or that he could ‘always be a helping hand’ if you needed it. He was down bad. “Since you ask so much, would you like to help out in preparing for our Halloween party Mr. Miya?” The question has Atsumu nearly jumping out of his skin in excitement, along with the cute ‘Mr.’ you added as well. “U-uh sure! Whatever you need.” As I said, down bad.

Akaashi would become ultimately flustered, smiling continuously despite his heart beating a thousand miles per hour. He’d always try his hardest to look on-point, or whatever that would appear like when it came to Akaashi. Of course, his more than intelligent daughter would catch on rather quickly to this playful banter that kept up between the two of you. Exchanging rather confused glances towards her smitten father. And as for that one day? Oh Akaashi couldn’t forget. When he’d walked in for a curriculum chat, hand in hand with his little one. Only for her to pad towards you, grabbing your hand to involuntarily lead you to Akaashi who began stammering apologies for interrupting. However the apology cut short when she spoke, “My daddy likes you! He gets pink cheeks when he talks to you!” She exclaims matter-a-factly, face bursting with pride. Akaashi couldn’t have been more embarrassed. “Is that so?” Your reaction earned a hushed squeak from the humiliated dad. And while the raven-haired individual was drowning in those pink cheeks his daughter had talked about, the tap you landed on his shoulder pulled him back to reality. “Don’t worry, we’ll talk later, okay?” Yep, drowning back into those pink cheeks.

Tsukishima has always been quite straightforward as we know, even when he is indeed charmed by his son’s teacher. Thinking this was inappropriate behavior, he attempted to silence the internal screaming every time he spoke to you. Answering with short replies. You reminded him of Yamaguchi in a way, always so friendly despite having to put up with his cold tone. Although his usuals demeanor vanished when he discovered that you’d come down with a cold and had to stay home from school. So, this led to a trip to the convenience store with his eager little helper on a search for medicine. Thank god he’d kept that card with all your info on it in case of emergency. A knock on your door gripped you from your feverish state, the greeting at the door surprised you—and melted your heart all at the same time. Clad in masks, Tsukishima and a mini copy of him lay fully prepared to take care of you. “I heard you were sick so I thought as a parent-” He began, except you cut him off halfway with a weak, “Thank you.” Pretty eyes filled with stars gazing up at him left the blonde utterly speechless. Nonetheless they did take care of you that evening, laughing at how adamant his son was about reading you a bedtime story, and getting the opportunity to see Tsuki’s soft side. Lucky you.

Iwaizumi honestly shouldn’t be worried about winning you over or getting your attention. If anything, you should be wanting his attention. I mean, the whole package is right there? You have to be blind to not see how attractive this man is. It’d be entertaining at orientation to see all the mothers hawking at this handsome masterpiece. Especially with his heart already belonging to you. He tries denying it, really. Not wanting to make the same mistake and put his somewhat calmed life with his little girl in jeopardy by catching feelings. But on that day he found you comfortably working at a cafe he frequented, he found himself purchasing a coffee and slipping into the extra chair beside you. “Huh..? Oh.. Iwaizumi, didn’t expect to see you here.” Your focus flickered upward to him, casting a small smile. “Working on weekends then?” He tutted, taking a sip from the cardboard cup. It was hard to ignore his muscular hand when he held the coffee cup. And when he stretched. Almost as if he wants you to notice. Or perhaps it could’ve been a misunderstanding. Whatever it was, it worked—and coffee shop dates meet-ups became a bit of a routine for the both of you to catch up. Or maybe something more..?

-maak

plagiarism, repost , and editing is prohibited

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w-a-t-e-r-m-e-l-o-n-e · 9 months

Text

haikyuu random texts

featuring: miya atsumu, tsukishima kei, suna rintarou, and sakusa kiyoomi

warnings: sfw, alcohol, kinda weird

haikyuu x g/n reader

a/n: random messages I found in my drafts so be warned

masterlist

thank you for reading <3

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j-u-u-z-o · 3 months

Text

“Nature’s Calling.” (Atsumu Miya x F. Reader) NSFW‼️ 18+

An: Heyyy guyssss! It’s been a while! Sorry for making y’all wait so fucking long! 😭 A lot of things happened last month that hindered me from posting this. Anyway! This is just another clingy fox boyfriend scenario and I love the sound of rain. So why not mix the two together. 😩💕 He makes me go crazy. Also, this is my first fic of the year so…yaaay!

Synopsis: Atsumu is spending his time at the local gym with you while the rain is pouring hard outside. So what happens next?

WARNING: NSFW‼️, Atsumu being a dumbass, making out, oral, sex, tight space (you’ll know why lol), GRAMMAR/barely proofread

Take your time reading and dive into the story ✨☺️

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The rain looked like it was getting heavier every minute. You watched it fall in the gym’s parking lot as you stood in front of the front door.

It looked like light snowfall from streetlights in the large space. Contrary to the rain pummeling hard on the surface.

“Babe? Whatcha ya’ doing?” Atsumu asked, lifting 40 pound dumbbells up and down, while he stared at your back and down to your plump ass under your black fitted shorts. You turned to his direction, seeing his glistening body flex while he lifted. Even his deep V peeking a bit. You jogged towards him. “It’s getting worse outside, we should call it a night before —“

“Excuse me. We’re about to close in 15 minutes . Please wrap up what you’re doing and get home safely. The gym staff said, preparing for store closing. “Ho…” he slowly dropped his dumbbell to either side of his body, looking bummed from the sudden announcement. “Yeah, babe.” You said softly,looking up at him. He looked at the front door and saw the heavy rainfall and said, “Yo! Can we wait till the rain stops? It’s crazy out there.” He turned to the man who was cleaning up the equipment. “I’m sorry but we need time to get this done so that we can have a smooth closing process.” Plus you are the only two customers in here — for almost three hours. Just go home already. The staff mentally noted while he wiped the weights.

“Tch. Damn it.” He sucked his teeth in annoyance. He really wanted to prepare for the next tournament in good shape than he already is. “Alright,” he sighed. “let’s get ready to go, baby.” Sadly putting the dumbbells down in its station and throwing his sweat towel over his shoulder.

“Thank you for coming!” The staff said sarcastically. “Please get home safely.” Another staff member said, quickly locking the door in front of you two and walking to the supply room in the back door to help his team. You and atsumu’s eyes followed the staff who was happily inside. Dry and warm. While you both stood outside in the rain like abandoned puppies. “That bastard. He can’t even be bothered to —“ the rain suddenly poured down harder. He quickly snapped his head around to see and pulled you closer to him. You face snuggled in his warm clothed chest — avoiding to look at the scene. “Let’s make a run for the car.” He mumbled, looking down at you with a small grin before kissing your forehead softly. You nodded and smiled softly at him.

He held your hand and shouted “Let’s go!” But before you could run, the world tilted on its axis as atsumu picked you up. “Tsumu!” You grabbed on the hem of his hoodie from behind while he carried you on his shoulder, running to his car.

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The rain dropped hard while you two sat in the car listening to it. Filling the thick silence between you two.

Well this is embarrassing. He mentally noted.

“We should’ve left early.” He gave a dry laugh, looking around the parking lot from inside the car. He shook his hand in his hair drenched hair . Some Splashing a bit on your face. “Tsumu! What the hell!” You pouted, wiping your cheeks. his grey sweats were a bit soaked too. He’s so stupid sometimes. You mentally noted. You told him to leave early but he was stubborn to leave — now look what happened. Kicked out and stuck inside the car. With a clingy fox-like boyfriend. You shook your head and rolled your eyes, looking out the window from your side, watching the rain drops falling down a puddle at the end of the parking lot. “Let’s go home, baby.” He pressed the start button and turned to look at you.

Atsumu watched you with a pout on his face. He knew he should’ve listened to you. “Babe, I’m -

Brmmmm!

Your phones vibrates simultaneously. “Hm?” He hummed, picking up yours instead. You turned and looked at the bright source in the car. “Weather alert: HEAVY RAINFALL UNTIL 9PM. POTENTIAL FLOODING. DO NOT DRIVE UNTIL RAIN CLEARS.”

you stared at the screen blankly — not saying anything. He looked at your blank face illuminated by the bright screen.

“I’m soowee baby.” He whined playfully, quickly nuzzling his face in your neck while he pulled you close. “. I didn’t mean ta’ be so stupid!” He continued, rubbing his face against your soft skin. “I love ya so much baby.” He kept Begging for your forgiveness, you closer your eyes in annoyance by his wet hair rubbing against your cheek. “Okay! Okay!” You said, finally giving in. He lifted his head — his dark brown eyes looking deep into yours. “Thank you ~.” He smiled widely before kissing your lips softly. “Just don’t do it again.” You said, your lips getting peppered with kisses playfully. “Mmm.” He hummed, smacking his lips against yours once more. “I promise.” He said lowly, chuckling softly.

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The sounds of the heat circulating through the car felt so good. Especially the wet kisses he was leaving on your neck while you watched videos on TikTok. “Mmm.” He moaned softly, caressing your midsection under your shirt. You cheeks felt hot in the middle of his cuddles. “Mm.” You whimpered, he kissed your favorite spot that makes your pulse flutter, earning a soft chuckle from him. “Mmm..Tsumu.” You panted, distracted by his lingering kiss on your favorite spot and his warm palm brushing up and down your stomach, lovingly.

A loud funny voice from a TikTok video stopped him in his tracks and looked down at the screen. He gave a throaty groan as he watched the funny video while he rested his head on your shoulder for a moment before going back to his task. After a while, you put your phone down and looked out the window as he so. A comfortable silence was felt between you two while the rain fell on the roof and the windshield of the car.

You just want to go home. Hoping for the rain to calm down. As if he read your mind, he moved away from your neck and turned your head to face him. “Ya okay, baby. It’s gonna go away soon” he said. “Okay?” He asked again, making sure you’re not worried as he caressed your cheek. “Mm.” You nodded slowly. “Don’t worry, we’re gonna get home.” He mumbled, leaning closer before his lips met yours. Deep yet slow passionate kisses filled the air inside the car. His hand slid back down and underneath your shirt— brushing his fingers against your tummy. “Mm.” You moaned, loving the way his lips never left yours, dancing with it slowly, rhythmically.He knows how to clear your mind in so many ways. The slow lip smacking sounds mixed well with the pattering sound of the rain.

“Ah.” You panted softly, feeling his warm hand slide down and in between your inner thighs, gently stroking it. “Mmm.” He moaned in the passionate kisses, feeling how warm your skin was getting. His fingers crossed over to brush your clothed pussy. “Mm.” You whimpered, quivering from the brush-like strokes, making you break the kiss. “Tsumu.” You breathed out, looking down at the fingers brushing it in circles, rewarding him with another soft moan.

“Let me see them baby.” He whispered. You removed the straps from your shoulders and pulled your strapped tank top down, shyly. Revealing your plump breasts, your hard pebbled nipples always looking ready to be sucked on. “Wow.” He sighed, staring at them in awe when you gently tugged them with your fingers. looking even more erect than it naturally is already. you turned your body a bit in the cramp space of your seat to get more friction on his fingers and to feel his crafty appendage on your pebbled nipples. He rested his elbow on the mid console and leaned over. You rested your hands on his shoulders and your foot on the end of the seat as you watched his fingers brush your clothed clit and his mouth wrap around your erect nipple from in between.

The gratified moans left your throat and rang in his ears while he fiddled with your clothed clit and sucked your nipples. “Here?” He whispered knowingly, looking up at you while he slowly licked your nipple. You tilted your head to the side, nodding to his ministrations, exhaling while scratching his undercut, lovingly. He was still looking up at you while he flicked your erect nipple. You were squirming under his fingers that brushed your clothed pussy so well. His tongue has gotten even more watery from the sight that you started hearing the wet sounds coming from it. “M-mmm.” You moaned, your fingers trembling on his shoulders. “Ah-Unnh” you pushed your chest closer to his mouth, sighing from the feathery sensation from the way his warm and watery muscle licked your hard and sensitive nipple. It felt so good, licking it right in the center — just how you like it. And then, sucking it gently.

After a while, a wet pop rang in your ears and he moved up to leave kisses on your neck. “Unh.” Your head fell back, feeling his calloused fingers stroking your thighs in a feathery. His warm palms grazing your skin making you caress his the sides of his neck — needy for more. “Let’s take this off.” He whispered, sliding them up to the waistline of your fitted shorts while still lingering on your neck.

You looked around — worried. searching the parking lot for any person or thing, that might see you and your boyfriend. Since he parked under the light pole. How dumb. He leaned back and followed your eyes. “It’s just us, baby.” He assured, “the doors are locked too. Wanna check?” He chuckled, earning a light smack on his chest. “But babe —“ “I want to make it up to ya’.” His fingers brushed your sides, making you shiver as he waited for you to answer. You looked around the area again and from the back window. He waited patiently while admiring your flushed beauty. You sighed and looked at him. “Just this once.” You said lowly, as if somebody was watching you two. “Okay, baby.” He hummed and kiss your lips, gently.

Soon after, he helped you take off your shorts and panties. “Mmm.” He grinned, getting a glimpse of your pretty pussy, glistening thanks to the lights inside the car and the light pole outside, luckily. “Sit back baby.” He pulled back to adjust the seat — lowering it a bit. You stared up at the ceiling inside the car and breathed a bit deeply. He gently spread your legs open and lifted your right leg to rest on the armrest on your side. He bent over and started leaving slow kisses on chest and down to your tummy. “Just relax baby.” He mumbled, catching you looking out the window for anyone. His continuing left hand brushed your deep inner thighs. Making you look down at his tasks, distracting you.

The way his soft palm brushed your left inner thigh, you moved it to the side a bit to give him more room — to feel more of the gentle caress. “Mmm.” You moaned, his fingers slid down your thigh, brushing the tips on your outer folds, softly. Soon after, You gasped expertly started digging in between your inner folds. Brushing it side to side, slowly opening you up. “Ya so warm, baby.” He praised, leaning down to look at your puffy pussy lips. You panted while you watched him rub our folds. He bit his bottom lip as he so until he slid them down and up to your clit — making your buck your hips up from the sensation. He chuckled and looked at you. You blushed hard at his gaze while the rain drops fell down hard — adding to the pleasuring atmosphere.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Huuungggh” you groaned heavily, turning your head to the side while he edged your clit so well. Slowly and steadily. His fingers brushing so… softly. tweaking it to get more out of you. “Mmmm.” You but your bottom lip, relishing your pussy getting massaged by his crafty fingers. He slid them down and up and flicked your clit. “So sexy, baby.” He said thickly, watching your hips roll up against his fingers, covering them with your warm slickness. You bucked your hips, your throbbing clit meeting his calloused fingertips every time. “Haaa…yeah. Like that.” Praising him breathlessly, circling your hips while he rubbed it slowly — almost like stroking a cat’s soft ear.

His strokes were sparking fires in your lower stomach. “Ugh.” Moaning as you rolled your hips up to meet his feather-light strokes on his slippery fingertips.

breathing heavily, you felt your release getting closer. So you grounded your hips and rolled your hips up — getting your clit stroked with his soft fingers. your pussy quickly started pulsating — making you pant quickly until you whined; grabbing onto the hem of your tank top for some kind of control. Short spurts of your fluids fell on his fingers while he continued stroking it, softly. you grunted heavily each time you released your fluids:

Rubs, “Ugh…” — squirt

Rubs, “Aghhh…” — squirt,

Rubs, ”U-unngh…” and squirt.

You quivered heavily from the last spurt. He hummed in satisfaction — he loves a squirter. He leaned over in between your legs. “M-mm!.” You whimpered, shivering when you felt his lips give a quick peck on your sore puffy clit, earning another quick short spurt afterwards. He chuckled. “Look how puffy your clit looks now.” Smiling at his work. However, he didn’t want to stop there. “Tsumu.” You whined, almost sounding like a cry, watching him lower his head between your legs in such a cramped space. You haven’t cooled down enough from the first orgasm. “Jus’ wanna taste you.” He mumbled, angling his head and sticking out his tongue.

“a-aunhh!.” You twitched, the sudden fluttering sensations prickled all over your body as his tongue started licking your puffy clit, side to side. “Oh god” you panted shallowly, watching the wet digit graze it so well. Feeling very hot, you to look out the window. Your chest heavily as the appendage swiped your slowly in circles. “Ahh..”then closing your eyes, you listened to the relaxing raindrops and the pure thrilling sensations on your clit. After a while, The quiet space mixed with your heavy exhales and rain drops were the only two things that filled thick the air. “Mmmmm.” You moaned, resting your hand on his head, gently scratching it as he left soft pecks right on your erect clit. The wet gentle pecks added tingles in your lower tummy. Rewarding him with a a few of your breaths hitching satisfyingly. “Yeah…don’t stop baby.” You whispered, caressing his hair messily and pushing it back to the side as you began slowly bucking your hips to his kissable mouth.

You lifted your left leg and hooked it over his shoulders to give him more room. And for you, a more better view of him sucking and kissing your puffy clit and the sheer friction that you’re receiving. “Ungh…y-yeah…suck it.” You groaned thickly, watching his puckered lips sucking it passionately. His soft and warm lips felt so good around your throbbing clit. You eventually started humping it as he so. the sounds from the car seat creaking — mixing with the sucking sounds from his lips, as you so. “Agh! Y-Yeah!” humming from the overtaking pleasure, your clit throbbing relentlessly. The rapid sounds of his sucking from your hips bucking feverishly echoed inside the car. “Fuck!” You whispered out, your release getting closer and closer. You lifted your right leg from that rested on the armrest and bucked quickly agaisnt his mouth — making your leg dangle in the air. “A-aungh!” You cried erotically, abruptly twitching in your seat, pushing his head deeper, sucking it harder as you relish the remaining sparks of your of your orgasm.

A wet pop from his lips, he pulled back and took off his black t-shirt. Licking his lips, he reached out for your hand. You eyes followed his direction as he puts it inside his sweat shorts. You gasped, feeling his sheath — hard and hot. “Do your thing, baby.” He mumbled, biting his lips, looking down with anticipation. erection.

You stroked his girth, gently. Feeling some of the veins against your fingers. He pulled his cock out with your hand, “Yeah…that’s nice.” He moaned lowly, Receiving a better view of your hand doing its task. His gratified moans was heard from this throat. You looked up at him — his head resting on the headrest with his eyes closed while he gave a few throaty moans. The only sound that rang in your ears despite the constant raindrops. You shyly looked back down at your slow strokes; eventually rubbing your fingers around the mushroom tip in circles. Earning an open mouth sigh from him. You quietly leaned over, resting your knees on the cushion, and kissed the pinkish tip. He twitched. “You’re a sneaky one, aren’t ya.” He chuckled, slowly opening his eyes. “Ooh.” He said lowly, feeling your warm lips wrapping aroind his cock and slowly bobbing down the length. “Yeah…slow baby. Just like that.” He bit his bottom lip, and stroked your back, gently.

After a few minutes, he began rolling his hips up to your mouth. Your tongue glided around the sheath, feeling your tongue swipe against the veins. Placed hand atop your head and Bucking into your roughly yet steadily. “Gak!” You gagged, the tip poking the back of your throat. He moaned as it did, listening to light wet sounds each time it entered your needy mouth. “Mmmmm.” He growled, brushing your back lovingly while you focused on sucking the tip.

Head fell back on the headrest— a Long breathless sigh left his lips while his dark brown eyes looked around the empty parking lot.

“Come’re” he lifted your head up and cupped your cheeks. Your soft lips looks sore that his lips met yours deeply. Tasting yourself and his own — mixing the two together. “Get on my lap.” He whispered, breaking the kiss. Without a word, you did.

Well. He does owe me, right? You mentally noted.

You know having sex with him in the car is a roller coaster— literally. And, uncomfortable because of the tight space inside of the car too. Which is why you’d only settle for cuddles. His rough passionate sex turns you into a hot mess — all the time.

He pushed his seat back to get a better view of your beautiful body above him and he helps you get to his side of the car until he pulled you close to his chest. He gasped when he felt your erect nipples rub against his chest. Resting your hands on his shoulders, you rubbed it against him playfully, earning a playful moan from him. “Mmm. That feels nice, baby.” He grinned, looking into your eyes as you so, rewarding you with throaty moans. He raised his head and his warm mouth captured your tit — sucking it lovingly like he’s kissing you deeply and slowly. “M-mmm’.” You moaned softly, feeling his crafty tongue flicking your nipple. You steered your body side to side while he licked it.

Breaking away from your puffy nipple, he got himself comfortable. Pushing the car seat back, Stretching out his legs and then spreading it apart. You giggled when he pulled you down closer to him — knowing that he’s gonna fuck so good. You spread your legs apart thanks to your knees resting on his thighs. Your hand slid in between and stroked his cock. He held your hand with his and slowly rubbed the tip against pussy. Gliding it up and down your pussy. “Ahh.” You moaned, the warmth feeling so good in your folds and then circling it around your puffy clit. Your circled your hips for friction as he so — your warm arousal glossing his cock the tip. “Oh baby…” you breathed out, humping it steadily, up and down. His dark brown arbs stared in yours deeply. Relishing your nipples rubbing against his chest and your warm pussy circling his hard cock.

With his hand wrapped around yours, he slid his girth in between your slick folds once more and helped you align it to your cunt. Feeling the tip poke your entrance, your pussy throbbed by the feeling as he waited for your signal to go. You then slowly pushed it in. Slowly taking him inside while you sunk on it —letting go of his girth once the tip was inside. A shaken moaned left his lips when you leaned back to seat yourself properly.

Your hands slid down to his chest and you applied some of your weight on it when you began rolling your hips steadily on his sheath — getting adjusted to his length. He rested his hand on your lower back and the other on the back of your thigh while you Roughly yet gently, grind on his cock. Arching your back, you feel it massaging your tight plush walls while the tip poked your sweet spot, over and over. “Ooh.” You breathed out, relishing the warm friction of the length stroke you so well. “Mmmmm.” you continued, rocking your hips roughly and slowly, pushing your ass back to feel his entire length graze your walls. It felt so good . Especially the veins on his cock that added to the pleasure you were receiving.

A few moments passed and you increased your pace. Riding his cock with so much want while his body was rocking below you. You watch his blissed face while you panted. His face was turned to the side with his eyes closed while he bit his bottom lip. His head getting pushed up against the headrest while he was relishing your warm tight cunt squeezing around him. Soon after, his throaty guttered moans echoed inside the car — which made you clench his length and ride him a bit quicker. Suddenly, the wet sounds coming from your sobbing cunt was ringing in his ears. “Aauuungh.” He groaned deeply, feeling you squeeze his cock tightly, on purpose. “Ug-unnhhh.” He was getting completely taken away by your ministrations — feeling putty underneath you. You smiled softly at his pure reactions and leaned over to kiss him deeply. “Mmmmm~.” He moaned, smacking his lips against yours, passionately.

He slid his hands up to your hips. Gripping it push it back and forth on his length roughly.“Ahh…fuck baby.” He said deeply, seemingly in a daze while he admired your beautiful form rocking above his. Your warm exhales fell on his face as you so. “Ride it, baby.” He whispered, looking down in between to see his cock covered in your arousal. Warm and glistening in the light every time you lifted your hips. He smacked your ass cheeks roughly and kneaded it to reward you while he watched. Soon after, he began bucking his hips to meet yours — earning a few of your breaths hitching. Echoing in his ears. He thrusted his cock into your sobbing cunt with good measure each time you sunk on it — rewarding him shaken pants and your body quivering from his deep thrusts.

“Oh baby.” You moaned erotically, your ass bouncing on his thighs while his long strokes were rubbing your sweet spot so well. “You like that huh.” He looked up with a cocky smile. He pulled your hips down to his to deepen his thrusts and gripped it; not wanting to be at least an inch away from your clenching pussy. “Oh yeah..” you panted, lifting your head up, your pussy making thick sticky sounds of your arousal smothering his pelvis.

A few more controlled thrusts, He spread his legs further apart and gripped your knees from underneath. The sudden shifting made yelp as your feet rest atop thighs now, your right hand holding onto the armrest and the other resting on top of the center console. He smirked at your pussy in full view: your wet folds spread out more and your pretty puffy clit. “A-ah!” You leaned on your side, quivering as he started thrusting in your cunt quickly. “Ooooh. Fuuuck.” He breathed out, watching his quick controlled thrusts making your body quiver. “Mmm!” He bit his bottom lip, gripping your knees underneath roughly and increasing his pace while you clenched him relentlessly.

“Ts-sumu!” Your tits bounced around feverishly from his ministrations. The wet sounds grew louder quickly — mixed with your breathless moans. “Mmmrgh.” He whined deeply, relishing your tight warmth, and eyeing your suckable nipples bouncing in his face. “Ah!” You whimpered, quivering when you felt his feather light touches brush your waist — up and down and around your soft glistening skin. You head fell back and you closed your eyes. The sounds of his cocking slamming in your sobbing cunt and it poking your sweet spot sparked a prickling feeling in your stomach — beginning to make your clit throb from the fluttering sensations. “Haaa…haa..” you panted, bucking down to meet his deep relentless thrusts. You started to feel your walls trembling — “A-Ah! Ah!” you gasped rapidly, feeling your release coming soon. His hands gripped your thighs from underneath and pushed it back, the heel of your feet digging in his thigh. He raised himself and bucked feverishly in your cunt. “Uuuuungh!” He hissed, rolling his hips up roughly, his skin slapping against your soaked pussy, rapidly. “Heh! That’s it.” He chuckled, staring hardly at your pussy slowly oozing out white fluids — covering his cock. You warm fluids dripped on his length. Creaming his cock lovingly and yours too every time slammed into you. Soon after, he reached out to rub his thumb against your clit. Your head snapped down and watched it brush your clit softly in contrast to his feverish thrusts. Your body tensed up and felt putty each second. “Mmmm.” You whimpered, the friction on your clit fluttering all over your body. You’re were about to come. Very soon. “Yeah! Yeah!” He whispered, rubbing your clit while your walls squeezing him all too well, making him push his cock into you roughly. “G’head baby.” He said thickly. “Cum on my fucking cock.” Hissing at how tight you feel around his sheath.

Soon after, your clit was pulsating uncontrollably. “U-ugh!” You groaned, your hips pushed up and you cummed. your cum gushes out of you in fast, long spurts that manages land on his abs. “Oh!” He shouted, quickly gripping your hips and slamming into you frantically. “A-aah!” You cried, Your walls were crumbling around him, crazily. “Mm!” He moaned roughly, biting his bottom lip while he looked deep into you watery eyes. “Right there. “Right there…don’t stop, baby.” He said thickly, Sitting up and Pulling you down on his cock while he slammed into you. “Haa…fuck.” His mouth opened slowly, breathing heavily as he was feeling his climax getting closer, “yeah…” he breathed out. His fingers were digging into your hips — an iron grip on it that you couldn’t move around. “Right there, Tsumu!” You panted, his tip kept hitting your sweet spot making you pulsate and spurt out again, roughly. The wet slapping sounds rang inside the car, endlessly. “Unh!” You twitched under his iron grip, feeling completely putty after cumming again. “Ugh!” He growled loudly; a few more quick thrusts, he gave a long strangled-like moan when his cum shoots in your walls while he struggled to keep going — twitching while his breath was hitching heavily until he froze. His warm fluids shooting inside you while he held you tightly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Heavy breathes echoed inside the car. Your pussy was throbbed by his cock twitching inside your soaked cunt. “Shit. I swear to god your pussy is on another level, baby.” He said breathlessly, resting his head back on the headrest while his chest heaved heavily. You hummed. Leaning over to his chest to cuddle. You whined, shifting your sore legs from his iron grip and resting them on his sides. You began leaving kisses on his neck as a thank you for keeping his promise. He stared up at the car ceiling as you so, still relishing your warmth inside your cunt for a few more minutes before pulling his cock out. After a while, you rested your hand on his left cheek and your soft lips met his passionately. “Mmmm.” He moaned in the slow deep kisses and suddenly smacked your ass cheeks, earning a playful moan from you. He chuckled and kneaded your ass while both lips smacked one another, lovingly.

After a while, he broke the kiss and his hands slid up to massage your breasts. “We should do this more often, baby.” He grinned, his thumbs brushing your nipples, feathery. You giggled at his fox-like smile. “I think Mother Nature is tellin’ us somethin’” he added, wiggling his thick eyebrows. “You’re so stupid.” You have a breathless laugh and he followed. A few deep kisses later, both phones abruptly vibrated simultaneously. You lifted yourself from his chest and he whined as you reached out for his phone. “Oh. It says it’s safe to drive now.” You read the text message. Now that you mentioned it, you looked out the window and realized that the rain had stopped.

“Babe.” You looked down at him, hoping he heard you. He hummed in agreement and sat up. “I heard ya.” He wrapped an arm around you, resting his chin on your breasts, smiling softly. “What?” You giggled, brushing his hair. “Let’s egg the gym someday.” He announced, smiling devilishly. Your eyes widened. “For what —“ “For payback.” He mumbled. You sighed at the clingy man who was looked up at you for an a see while admiring your genuine beauty. You shook your head and said, “let’s go home. I wanna take a shower.”

“And we can have a round two?” He suggested.

“If you promise to not vandalize the gym.” You smiled. “That doesn’t sound like a good deal to me, baby.” He pouted, “we could’ve died out here, ya know.” You raised an eyebrow at his dumb remark. “Yeah while fucking in the midst of a deadly storm, Shut up! .” You shook your head and smacked his shoulder, pulling back to lift up your strapped tank top while he chuckled. He quickly leaned forward and sucked your nipple and flicked it quickly. “Tsumu!”

“What. They’re starin’ at me! They love me, see?” He flicked it playfully while he looked up at you.

“I’m taking the bus home.” You pulled up your top and forcefully unwrapped his arm off around you, and moved back to your seat. "Nooo." He whined, quickly pulling back — taking his sweat towel and started cleaning up with a pout on his face. You gave him a kiss on the cheek for listening to you a few minutes after.

“You see what happens when you listen? You get rewarded.” You giggled playfully, putting back your panties and shorts on. “Oh? What’s my reward, then?” He looked at you expectantly as he started the car. “You’re not sleeping on the couch tonight, babe.” You said, smiling while you put on your seatbelt. “Well…I was hoping for a round two in the shower. But I guess…that’s fair.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Just drive the damn car, Tsumu!” You crossed your arms and turned to look out the window, annoyed again.

“Yeees ma’am .” He dragged out, shifting the gear to drive. “I’m getting my guys to egg the gym though. Since you don’t want to.” He said, on purpose, driving to the parking lot’s exit.

You sighed and shook your head — pouting. He suddenly rested his hand on your thigh as a silent apology. He really doesn’t want to sleep on the couch.

You didn’t want to repeat yourself again.

Keep pushing your luck, Tsumu.

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