Tumgik
#atsumu fic
sunaluv · 1 year
Note
more "come get your man"❗❗ with some more haikyuu boys maybe but honestly? whoever you want 🙏
i got u 😉
part 1 here
pairings: osamu, atsumu, kuroo
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OSAMU
onigiri miya was due to close in the next two minutes. you watched your boyfriend close up the counter from your spot on the stool. you liked sitting in when his shop was empty like this, it felt kinda…domestic.
it triggered your thoughts on the future with the hotter twin (in your opinion), you could see yourself walking down the alter to meet him, eating on the floors of your unfurnished home, him standing behind you whilst you rocked your child to sleep—
“hey samu what should i do with these!” you almost rolled your eyes at the voice shouting from the kitchen.
osamu had explained to you how he hired one of his friends from high school to work for him as a favour. she had just finished getting her degree and was looking for work in the area.
you didn’t mind, you were secure in your relationship so there was no reason to be pissed. that was until you had met her and introduced yourself to her as his girlfriend. like a switch had flipped, she instantly started to openly show her hatred for you behind sugar coated insults and not so subtle faces she made only when your boyfriend was out of sight.
you watched osamu’s chest expand in a deep breath. he ran his fingers through his disheveled hair before flipping his cap back on, pecking your temple before heading to the back. “i’ll go see what she wants then we’ll leave, ‘kay?”
you nodded and packed your bag, leaving your space clear and waiting by the counter for your man.
a whole five minutes had passed. you haven’t heard anything which was a sign that you should go investigate, given that girls record.
“…i thought we had a rule for customers showing up before closing time.” a hushed voice whispered.
“we do, there’s no customers here.”
“so who’s still sat out front, you always do this sam—”
ahem.
two faces looked to your spot at the door opening. one looking guilty, one relieved.
“you ready to go samu?” you asked sweetly. “it’s been five minutes and it’s movie night, you know i’m dying to catch up on our franchise.” you not so subtly bragged.
he breathed out through a chuckle. “of course baby, sorry for the hold up. i’m done here anyways.” he walked towards you, missing the dropped jaw of his employee.
you wrapped your arm around his waist before you left, not before smirking at the red-faced girl who was shaking in anger? sadness? embarrassment? you didn’t care.
your shoulders dropped at the chime of the bell followed by the nights breeze as you began your comfortably silent walk home.
“you’re cute when you stake your claim on me ya know?” osamu flicked your forehead.
“shaddap.” you retorted. “if she doesn’t understand boundaries i’ll set them.”
ATSUMU
atsumu was a textbook example of a frat boy. the parties, the girls, the popularity, the girls.
the only stereotype he’s not playing into is dating the leader of the girls sorority house, and some people felt like he’s doing it all wrong.
“omg hi! welcome to—” the cheery voice dripped upon seeing you at the door. “the boys house, who do you know here?”
the girl you recognised as the sorority house leader shamelessly eyes you up and down, twirling the ends of her blonde hair.
if she was here, the rest of the girls were too. they did everything as a culty pack: traveling, partying and even dating. you always thought it was weird how they were all paired with a frat boy, but you never said anything. maybe to them at least.
they obviously hated you for being a rock in their river.
“i’m here for atsumu,” your brow quirked.
her face hardened before plastering into a plastic smile.
“sorry ya just missed him! maybe if you go to—”
“BABY IS THAT YOU!?” a loud, excited voice belonging to your boyfriend shouted.
looking over her shoulder, you watched his blonde locks fly with the wind as he shoved past the girl who let out a disheartened gasp, and picked you up before picking you up and twirling you around.
“i missed you so much,” his soft lips continuously pressed against your face before pouring all his emotion into one last kiss on your lips.
“i missed you too tsum,” you giggled “i was only gone a week though.”
“a week to long! come i have so much to catch you up on.”
again ignoring the fuming girl who had watched the whole interaction, he damn near dragged you up the stairs past all his frat bros who you made sure to shout a greeting at as you passed.
you could hear the rest of the girls from the sorority comforting the girl who was now crying, talkin bout ‘he’ll come around, you two are destined to be together. but you didn’t care, you knew atsumu knew about his rep as a frat bro and he has explained to you about how much he doesn’t care about the ‘dumb stereotypes’ and ‘he likes what he likes, and thats you’.
“you know she likes you right?”
“does she, i thought the only reason she wants me that bad is so their matchup can be completed…”
“that’s part of it, but i feel like she genuinely likes you…” you trailed.
“hey, hey,” he held your cheeks tuning your focus on him. “i don’t care about all that okay? i’m yours and yours alone”
you nodded, placing your hands over his.
“now,” he pulled out his phone going straight to the photos app “let me show ya all you’ve missed.”
KUROO
“tetsuro stopppp,” the girl who had been partnered with your boyfriend for a science project whacked his arm playfully. “omg girl tell your boyfriend to stop.”
you looked at her, then him, then back at her. “stop being a bitch tetsuro.” you played into her antics, drawing out his name like she did.
“not like that, you don’t need to be mean. it was literally a joke.” she mumbled.
kuroo’s eyes met your rolling ones across the table as he shrugged.
“so what are you guys doing after this,” she asked the both of you, but stared at kuroo.
you had explained how you were going to the mall after, so they should probably finish up so you can make it soon.
“you’re going on a date? that’s so cuuuute, there’s actually this really cute place we saw together when—”
“i’ll be right back. toilet.” kuroo stated tensely, sending you an apologetic look as he saw your panicked expression. the both of you knew what her intentions were.
she watched him leave, all the way until the toilet door closed then she turned to you. “can i be real with you a sec, have a heart to heart you know as a fellow sister.”
she didn’t let you respond before she spoke out. “i highkey think tetsu deserves better, he seems really tense around you and i know your dating or whatever but i feel like i could treat him better. i know him.”
woahwoahwoahwhat.
“no.”
“no?”
“no!” you took a deep breath in, before calling her name. “i know you like him, you haven’t even respected me or him enough to hide it. but if you really loved him or knew him, you would know how uncomfortable he feels with you openly flirting with him while he’s in a committed relationship.”
your words hit her like a truck. “you’re not listening to me,” she reached for your hands across the table which you retracted before she could reach. “he needs someone like me, i’m not trying to diss you but you dress kinda bland, your not in many classes together, he doesn’t even talk about you all that often.”
“i do when you overstep, but otherwise i’m just trying to do my work and leave.”
she turned around to see her dear tetsu, arms folded, hurt look on his face. you knew he didn’t like confrontation, so he must have been feeling a strong type of way for him to talk like this.
“tetsu—”
“kuroo.”
“tetsuro,” she stood up placing an arm on his arm which made him step back. “please just come to me, you know we’ll be good together too…”
noticing your boyfriends drastically increased discomfort, you stepped in. “i think you’ve done enough,” you put yourself between the two of them.
wordlessly, you took his larger hand in yours and left the library. after checking up on him, the two of you decided to have a home date instead.
“thanks for stepping in by the way” his voice came out small.
you squeezed his hand. “anything for you tetsu”
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natriae · 10 months
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DILF! Atsumu who meets you at his brother's Onigiri shop
DILF! Atsumu who comes in early to help with the ingredient shipment from kita to show of his muscles
DILF! Atsumu who makes constant sexual innuendos
DILF! Atsumu who brings you gifts everyday you come into work
DILF! Atsumu who tells you everyday while you prepare onigiri to quit and for you to live with him
DILF! Atsumu who on a particular bad day asked you to run away with him and you did
DILF! Atsumu who wears a swim trunks with a 3" inseam at the beach with you to show off his thighs
DILF! Atsumu who begs you to take off your cover up and show him the pretty bikini you wore under it
DILF! Atsumu who shocks you by telling you him and osamu are turning 47 this year
DILF! Atsumu who jokingly asks you to give him a show in your skimpy bikini
DILF! Atsumu who stayed sat and quiet during your lap dance once the two of you got back to the hotel
DILF! Atsumu who was stuffing hundreds in the tiny strings of the bikini for you
DILF! Atsumu who asks through his thick accent for you to marry him with a love stuck look in his eyes
DILF! Atsumu who got super excited like his highschool self when you said maybe you would let him marry you after your graduate college
DILF! Atsumu takes you on surpise trips with gift bags full of designer bags and expensive lingerie
DILF! Atsumu who you didn't let fuck you till after you graduated college just to tease him
DILF! Atsumu who spent the whole night just pleasing you not giving a flying fuck abt his hard on
DILF! Atsumu loves seeing you in white
DILF! Atsumu who had to pay his brother to not make you uncomfortable by asking abt your relationship at work
DILF! Atsumu who told osamu's kids to call you aunt y/n
DILF! Atsumu who had a soft spot of you and opened up about his dreams of always having children
DILF! Atsumu who finally got to put his dick in you on his 48th birthday and came like a virgin
DILF! Atsumu who models with you for magazines with your face hidden from the public
DILF! Atsumu who lets you and your best girl friend fuck as long as he gets to watch
DILF! Atsumu who got to hold his set of twins when he turned 49
DILF! Atsumu who purposefully wears tight t-shirts while playing with the kids so you see him as daddy and not just a dad
DILF! Atsumu with a super high libdo and accidentally gets you pregnant again
DILF! Atsumu who doesn't let you sleep in a separate bed even when you mad cuz he's absolutely smittin for you
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hqbaby · 8 months
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fuck ur instincts — suna x reader & atsumu x reader
you and suna are just fooling around—so why does he care so much when you start falling in love with someone else?
genre. love triangle type. 18+ series content. college au, fwb, explicit sexual content, slow burn
completed.
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chapters.
oh cool — still winning — yours — not not serious — burn — best — kinda nice — sorry, my bad — fan favorite — rin — of course — an agreement — wreck his world —somebody's losing — need it — this is real — alone — all along — no idea — more than — bad — ily — real talk — get it now — you don't mean it — how much changed — knowing — maybe — fuck it — do what you do — right here
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extras. — [ ao3 crosspost coming soon ]
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missmeinyourbones · 1 year
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CLEAN ME UP 
c/w: established relationship, hurt/comfort, light mentions of blood and injury, atsumu lowkey gets his ass beat </3 but he is so sweet
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Atsumu sits crisscrossed on the floor of your bathroom with a tender black eye and a busted lip—and though this should be a rare thing, you need all five fingers to count the number of times you’ve seen this film before.
The first two were ages ago, high school days when he and Osamu couldn’t stop themselves from throwing a punch or two over nothing at all. Their egos too big and brains too small, twice you'd gotten roped into their post-brawl aftercare. Another time it was a fight off the court, when a rival captain made a snide remark about his foul accent. The fourth, a drunken, immature mistake.
Tonight’s wounds are different. Because when Atsumu nonchalantly shows up black and blue at your door, he doesn’t tell you what happened. There’s no story attached to the bruises he bares, no lengthy explanations or excuses. And Atsumu is a lot of things, but speechless is never one of them. 
He looks childish, you think, the way his broad body folds itself into a tiny pretzel and hardly takes up a corner of your tiled floor. He’s oddly quiet, too. Sure, you heard his witty comments down the hallway about how you should see the other guy, but something’s still off. His eyes aren't lit with their usual flame of youth, pride. 
Only a few words are exchanged through the process of cleaning him up. Between wet washcloths and tiny sniffles, Atsumu fumes, You haven't asked enough questions yet, and it’s beginning to freak him out. He doesn't know whether or not he should be grateful or unsettled with your silence.
A frozen bag of vegetables presses against his left eyelid when you finally ask, "What the hell did you do this time?"
Atsumu smiles at the mere sound of your voice, an instant warmth against the burning ice on his body. "Why's it always my fault?"
You remove the bag from his brow to shoot him a look, that look. He knows better than to argue with that look. Arguing with that look gets him nothing but trouble and an achy back from a night on the couch. So, he diverts. 
"Nothing,” he sulks. “He started it, and—"
"—And you finished it, right?" 
Your words are meant to be sarcastic, at his dispense of how stupid he behaved, but Atsumu doesn't take them as such. Instead, at your interruption, he shoots you an earnest smile filled with satisfaction and dried blood stretched across his chapped lips.  
"See? So smart, baby." 
His hand rises to pet your chin but you lean back quick enough to dodge his caress. His eyes fall to the bag of vegetables that now sits by your lap. 
“Atsumu,” you try again, foreboding. 
He rolls his head back in a huff against the bench of the bathtub, and the ceramic feels warm against his neck compared to the still stinging chill on his eye. 
“What was I supposed to do? They were bein’ assholes.”
His whole team had gone out drinking tonight for a celebratory round or five, followed by a few days off. And as charming as Atsumu is, he does have his foes. People in the volleyball world he’s not the biggest fan of, for reasons he doesn’t seem to discuss with you. He likes to leave it at his good intuition, something you know he lacks.  
With the context clues provided, you can think of two or three people he’s implying. 
His reasoning is flawed, to say the least, but the way he says it has your heart breaking in the slightest. He avoids eye contact, as if he's embarrassed, dancing around the subject and wishing the ground to swallow him whole. 
His shyness has you trying a softer approach. 
“Everyone is an asshole,” you whisper, lightly returning pressure to his eye with the makeshift ice, “if punching assholes was reasonable, I’d do it all the time.”
Atsumu smiles a bit at that, but you catch how he winces slightly at the movement. 
“Yer so funny, baby,” he tries to trail off. “Funniest person I—”
“Miya,” comes his second warning, and by the look in your eye, he’s not brave enough to try for a third.
“Fine,” he grumbles, “but when yer a Miya, I’m playing that card on you, too. Y’know that, right?” 
You nod, and whether it's to his proposal or to encourage his words, you don't know. But it works, because Atsumu takes a deep breath and stares at the ceiling again. 
“This time was different, okay?”
His tone is eerily soft. One only you get the privilege of hearing, and not because it's out of love, but because it's out of hate. Something’s shaken him so bad, he’s almost been rendered speechless. 
“How was it different?”
“They were talking about you,” he shakily exhales. “Sayin’ stupid shit that isn’t true.”
Your heart softens as you do your best to keep a strong facade, but maybe Atsumu does have good intuition, as his hand squeezes yours through the quick moment of silence. 
“If it’s not true, then it shouldn't have mattered, right?” you try.
“No,” he’s quick to work himself up again, eyes finding yours. “Like hell was I gonna let ‘em keep talking about you like that, ‘specially when I’m right fuckin’ there.” 
Your fingers lightly skim his jaw, nowhere sensitive but he jumps all the same. You apply pressure to tilt his head, forcing him to find your gaze. He does.
“Do you want to tell me what they said?”
Atsumu gaze softens, and after a moment of thinking, he shakes his head. 
“No,” he decides, “I don’t.” 
His eyes fall to your lips and back up to your eyes. “Do you want to know?”
You smile at his sincerity. Atsumu, who you know to be just as sweet as he is boisterous, would tell you if you asked. He’d do anything you ask. But, you decide against it. 
“No. No, I don’t.” 
Atsumu exhales a breath he didn't realize he was holding as he lets his head nuzzle against your palm. Contrary to the ice, it's warm and soft on his skin. He thinks it could heal wounds faster than any bag of broccoli ever could. 
“I trust you,” he hears you coo into his hairline, kisses now dancing along his forehead and jaw, “even if you do have the emotional intelligence of a middle school boy, sometimes.”
Astumu hmphs at your words, simultaneously agreeing and brushing you off. He doesn't care enough to bicker, right now. He doesn’t need to tell you about how the man from the bar was talking about you. About how easy you’d be to persuade into bed. About how you're just with Atsumu for his flashy perks and award winning smile. 
He doesn't need to because he knows they're wrong. Because they don't see these moments, when Atsumu sits on the ledge of your empty bathtub. With popped blood vessels and tender welts, those men don't melt beneath your careful fingertips or soothing pecks. 
He doesn't have to say anything, because you trust him. You trust Atsumu, and it's the one thing in this world he knows to be true. 
He lifts his head up from your hold to find your lips. 
“I jus’ love you,” he insists, lightly pressing himself to you with such caution, “so much.” 
And if there’s one thing in this world you know to be true, it's that Miya Atsumu loves you.   
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haztory · 2 months
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['sex' by the 1975]
⤷ atsumu miya x f!reader; best friends, references to infidelity, pining, sexual content (w.c 3.1k)
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“it’s not sex.” he insists between mouthfuls. a drop of mustard dots the corner of his mouth. you stare incredulously.
“are you joking?” you ask. atsumu just shrugs his shoulder, intense focus saved for the burger held in his hands. practically inhaling a third of it in one bite as he brings it up to his mouth.
“‘s not like it’s the real thing.” he bobs his head side to side in consideration of the sandwich before he’s grabbing at the fries in your lap, “can i haf some.”
the carton lays practically emptied from his pilfering next to your abandoned chicken nuggets. three remaining, absent of consumption in favor of a bewildered stare at the man seated beside you on his bed. 
“fingering is penetration, that’s sex.” you say simply.
atsumu raises a brow, “yer gyno having sex with ya?”
“that’s different.” you level a stare at him, one that’s serious and fierce and that communicates everything you mean in the single look alone. he meets it with one of his own, familiarity and uncommunicated languages all the rage between the two of you. “she doesn't make me cum.”
“neither does yer boyfriend.” he shrugs, taking another large bite of his burger as you screech in offense. your hand meets his bicep with a sharp slap and he grabs at it in pain. “ow! ya were the one that told me that!”
”some people take a minute to figure it out.”
”sounds like its taking a lot longer than a minute.” he mutters to himself. “look, its a lost cause. just dump the guy before it gets anywhere. ya haven’t had sex yet, he’s got a weird face, dude cant tell a fake orgasm from a real one. why are ya fighting me on this?”
“fingering is sex! your body count would be zero if fingering didnt count.” you insist loudly and atsumu rolls his eyes. he crumples the foil his burger came in and throws it across the room, cheering loudly when it makes it into the bin in the corner of his room. 
his room is much the same since the last time you visited. photos of passing years sit framed on the desk— an image of he and osamu with their arms wrapped around each other, taken right before atsumu left for the olympics. another of you and atsumu placed right next to it, you leaning over his shoulder and him laughing loudly, beer bottles held deftly in hands and drunken flushes decorating your faces. momentos of faded high school memories, interspersed with flashes of young adult realities. 
its more sophisticated than it once was. minimal in furniture, and of the items that decorate the room they’re the perfect reflection of a twenty-four year old athlete. his closet is lined with designer gifted clothes, but his desk chair remains stacked with undone laundry, the basics of his everyday life found in the plush cushion more than on the hangers. the jacket you’re currently wearing was stolen from the top of that pile just after delivering a pointed comment at how cold he keeps his apartment. 
its a far cry from the bedroom he used to share with his brother, the one you remember at the dusk of previous memories. it was cramped and contained, lines between the two boys constantly blurred and you having to learn rather quickly where to step and when. but even now, as he lives on his own in a city a bit further from you than you’re comfortable with, not much has changed. you still sit on the left side of the bed and he takes the right; you still eat burgers on his bed and steal his jackets, and he throws papers into trash bins and insists he could’ve made it professional were he not already in volleyball; you still moan and complain about the woes of daily life and he still listens to them endlessly, interjecting the same amount of dumb enthusiasm as you know him to have. 
there is still much in common that remains between he and you. trusted familiarity, endless comfort; a bubble that remains whole and precious, unaltered despite life dealing its hand to you. you’re convinced there’s no one else in the world that gets you quite like atsumu does. 
there’s also no one in the world that works you up, quite like atsumu does.
atsumu stands from the bed, retrieving your own trash from your lap and chucking the rest of it in the bin. lithe and lean, he moves with a body that is sculpted to perfection as he turns off the overhead light and instead turns on the desk lamp, submerging the room in the lowly warmth of its glow. days are shorter now and the sun has just made it return home, leaving you to the dim luster of a pleasant comfort. 
its quiet, intimate. words entirely inappropriate to describe the weekly hangout with your best friend of seven years. 
pushing thoughts aside, you fight to remember what the whole point of the conversation was about. a boyfriend, right. your boyfriend.
right. 
“and he does not have a weird face, he’s just… interesting. it’s what i liked about him.” 
“revolting. i’m this close to spiking a ball in his face. it would be plastic surgery for the dud.”
“you’re being mean.” you tell him. 
atsumu scoffs loudly, “and yer being stupid! yer the one that’s complaining to me about it. yer really gonna date a guy who can’t figure it out when he fingers ya? what happens when ya actually have sex with the bozo?”
“it takes practice. i don’t blame him for not being able to get me there on the first try. i see him later tonight so i’ll talk to him about it. it’s hard to figure out how to turn someone on and then try to, you know, get me there—“
“woahwoahwoah—timeout.” atsumu hold his hands perpendicular to one another, forming a ‘t’. his eyebrows practically touch the hairline of his bleached hair. “he doesn't even turn you on?”
“not everyone is good at everything, like you.” you mean it sarcastically, but it comes out short and meek. it’s embarrassing to have to cover for the misgivings of your current beau, but there’s an obligation to. a point to make, especially to the man in front of you. 
you’ve met the ex-girlfriends, heard their feedback for the man before you. an average of six out of ten in boyfriend material, but he knocks the ball out of the park when it comes to the bed—or so you’ve heard. 
(aya, the most recent girl to have made her grand exit, followed you on instagram and asked you to not be a stranger. whether that was so she could have her in for atsumu or because she really wanted to be friends is still up for debate, but the gesture ended with a message in your directs.
[9:17] it sucks, he’ll always be more in love with volleyball than any girl he could ever date. and even if he didn’t, you’re his number two anyway, so there’s really no way i can win.
[9:20] i’m super sorry, aya. if it’s any consolation, i really liked you two together. he’s just slow, i’m sure you guys will figure it out.
[9:20] you were our biggest argument. 
[9:20] so no, i don’t think we will.
[9:21] i’ll miss that dick tho, best orgasm of my life. rip
there’s not much you can say to a message like that. there’s not much you can say to the surge of smugness that courses through you either, so you don’t.
you don’t tell atsumu about it.)
“alright. sit up then.”
his voice startles you. “what?” 
suddenly, he stands before the side of the bed, looming horribly tall over you as he peers down at you. he shoves his hands in the pockets of his gray sweatpants, the fabric unintentionally pulling down ever so slightly and the waistband of his black boxers peeking out in greeting. the light of the desklamp casts a halo over his silhouette.
your attention is drawn upward and it’s hard to deny the familiar pang that tends to strike through you every so often in times like this. the simple effect of being near him. atsumu is unfairly handsome, and while it’s hard to put a name to the feeling that pulses inside of you when the light catches him just right or when a smile is even more charming than usual, the ache is always the same.
it’s fleeting, you convince yourself. something you refuse to settle on for too long. contexts and suppressed hopes pushed to the back of your mind along with the other unspoken things.
“come on.” he gestures two fingers upward. “i’ll show ya how easy it is to turn a girl on.”
its curiosity that has you standing up on your knees on the comforter, nothing more. its the wonder of how exactly your best friend makes his move on women that leads you to be so close to him, chests practically touching. breaths intertwining as atsumu stares a kind of serious into you that you’ve never been in the receiving end of before.
“im gonna touch ya.” his voice is low and your heart beats erratically in your chest. you nod. 
lifting his right hand, cold fingertips run across the heated skin on the back of your arm. digits trailing upward as he paints a pathway up. and it’s nothing—just his hand on your arm, nothing new or different, and yet your breath hitches. innocent in theory, but something solidifies on atsumu’s face, the familiar signs of determination playing out on his face. it’s less babied now, more formed and angular with the growings of an adult man, but it’s the same focus in his eye, the same clench in his jaw. 
his fingers trail up then down, repeating a circular figure on your skin. the sounds of your mingling breaths the only whispers between you two. your eyes dart down to his lips, but his stay fixed on you. studying every flicker of your eye, every inhale. 
his fingers break from their pattern and trails down to your wrist, then your palm, then your own fingers. tracing them, dancing with them, intertwining them slightly only to pull them away. 
“we should stop.” you whisper after a moment of his caress.
“why?” he asks and a quick glance to his gaze reveals that he knows why. he’s just making you spell it out.
it’s unfortunate that the only reason you want to stop is out of principle, and not because you truly have any reservations about any of this. your boyfriend of three months all but an annoying buzz in your ear.
“this feels like cheating.” you tell him simply. atsumu cocks his head to the side, charming smirk pulling across his lips. 
“i’m touching yer arm. this isn’t anything, yet.”
“you shouldn’t be touching my arm like this.”
“why? cause it’s working, right?” his voice drops to a low rumble, words vibrating through you and shooting straight to your core. “see how easy it is?”
“that means this is cheating then, right?” the question is posed, but it’s obvious it’s more to convince yourself than him. because all that he’s done is touch your arm and you’ve felt the bubbling of that unnamed something heat within you. it feels the exact same as it did seven years ago when you met him; feels identical to the moment four years ago when a drunken night led to a drunken kiss that was forgotten about the next day; feels the exact same whenever he looks at you like he does now, like you're open for the taking. a pointedly very different response to the dread that comes when getting intimate with your actual boyfriend. 
and while atsumu may be doing this to prove a point, to rub it in your face that he was right and you were wrong, you don’t trust that you’ll be able to not carry this with you. to not want more than you should. 
“nah.” he says simply, knowingly. “if i kiss you then it’s a problem.”
“oh, so kissing is cheating, but fingering isn’t?”
“can you shuddup? always runnin’ that damn mouth.” he renders you quiet. 
satisfied with your silence, he brings his left hand to cup your jaw, thumb and index finger grasping your chin and tilting your head to the left, leaving your neck exposed. he leans in, nose tracing a line up the column of your neck until he meets the juncture between that and your jaw. it’s a simple movement, and yet it feels like eternity in his hands. his breath hits steadily against the expanse of your cheek as he whispers into your ear.  “does he touch ya like this?” 
the gasp you release is guttural.
the arm previously fiddling with your fingers quickly wraps around your waist, pulling you flush to him. you have no choice but to embrace him with your own arms, hands cupping the back of his neck to steady yourself. it’s impulse to run them down the expanse of his back, to feel the muscles that he’s worked so hard for, but you resist. keeping yourself locked on his neck and nothing more, as though you being pliant to his ministrations wasn’t jeopardizing enough.  
his thumb inches upward, stroking the corner of your lips sweetly. “does he take his time with ya? cause i would.” 
its then that his lips meet the skin of your neck, tingles erupting from the connection. all of its effects causing an inadvertent clench within you. “it’s not about shoving fingers inside and just doing it. its about doing it the way you like it. and i’d make ya tell me how ya like it. since yer always runnin’ that damn mouth, might as well put it to good use.”
its all-encompassing, the traitorous burn between your thighs. and yet, this is the unnamed something, all that you’ve pushed away.
“astumu—” you whine and its in that exhale of yours that he releases a sigh of his own. one that almost sounds restrained.
“tell me to stop.” he says quickly, lips mouthing against your neck as he utters the words. 
and you don’t want him to. not really. the desire is feverish, unlike anything you’ve felt before and to end this is to end the sweetness of something you’ve yet to taste. if it were to be with anyone you would want it to be with him.
you could take the teasing, the “i-told-you-so” from osamu, the obliteration of a friendship for the uncertain promise of something more. but it isn’t right. not like this. if mountains were to come to a head, you want it to happen because they were gravitated to each other, not because the earth told them to do so.
“stop.” you tell him, and it’s like a hot brand that strikes him. he’s immediately pushing away from, untangling his limbs from you and stepping back into the swath of darkness in the room. 
his breaths are deep and heavy, that much you can tell from the distance. shuttering exhales that wrack his chest. you can hardly make out his irises, only see the intensity of dark pupils. it’s hard to believe that he could be feeling the way you do, just from the simple touch alone. a quick glance down to his grey sweatpants proves otherwise. 
a moment, then two, pass by. ragged breaths filling the distance, words spoken in the silent language you’re both fluent in. 
“does this mean i’m easy then?” you ask quietly, an effort to ease the wall of tension. 
“no.” he shakes his head gently, “just means i know ya.”
he knows what he means to say, the words and all of their yearning practically knocking against his teeth to escape. it’s the long haul, almost a decade long game of carefully advanced chess pieces to get to this point. blocked, temporarily, by the appearance of the new guy. a boyfriend of yours that atsumu met once, a guy he barely attempted to learn the name of. for reasons of his own, their knowing pertinent only to him. held deeply within the urges of being seen, the desires of having you wholly, completely.
there are plenty of other ways that he could do this—probably be more eloquent about it. admit pushed away feelings when you’re not in the midst of ranting about how your boyfriend just can’t get you off. 
but the tension irks him. thick enough to cut a knife, always following the two of you in the long held stares and closeness in which you two gravitate towards each other. the answer to your boyfriend problem is standing right in front of you. he knows what he wants you to do when you see your boyfriend later tonight. 
there are certain shoes that atsumu is convinced he could fill better than your boyfriend.
your face is flushed, and the desk lamp makes you look angelic under the lowlights, and you're wearing his jacket like you always do in a way that makes him believe it was always meant for you. and he’s not entirely convinced, even without the cloud of lust that hangs over him, that you don’t want this just as bad as he does.
osamu once said that atsumu wouldn’t admit his feelings to you even if they hit him over the head. they’re here, now. settling in the distance between you two, bobbing in the capsizing waves of want. they ache to be spoken, knock repeatedly against his gritted teeth. 
but a choice is made in that moment, with you looking at him as wild as you are. atsumu will admit to the selfish and prideful part of himself, but this—you— aren’t something to just take. the taste of your neck, the feel of your body against him, it must be given to him, earned. not because he needs to make a petty point, but because you want him to. 
he cares for you too much to be reckless in how he plays his cards. even if osamu will bust his balls for it later.
you have a boyfriend. and he can’t force you to change that. it wouldn’t be right, he’s given you the taste, he hopes it will be enough.
“like that.” he says after a moment, pushing down his pride and long held desires for you. “tell him ya like it like that.”
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a/n: why is it that whenever i stop writing for kuroo, the one i always want to write for is atsumu. also big ups for my beta who entertains me and proofreads me at all hours of the day. i love you sanju!!!!!!
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tiniella · 1 year
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♡ ⎯⎯ BAD KINDA PLAYER ꒰ ATSUMU MIYA꒱
୨୧ synopsis: you offer to help the hottest (and dumbest) guy on campus with his homework, now he wants to say thank you.
୨୧ cw: [n]sfw content, fem!reader + nerd!reader + himbo!atsumu + reader uses glasses + mating press + petnames ꒰ cutie + baby + kitten ꒱ fingering + oral sex + size kink + tummy bulge + fluff + atsumu is a big baby.
୨୧ word count: 2.1k
୨୧ tags: @malxoxo @princessqueen111 @cravingforangel @itsmeteiiteii @coyloves @katsuwhore @peacchfuz @mizuwki @maplesuna @chvlde @coquettemaiden @crypt7d @kunizk @@yandere-romanticaa @hiraizens @kuroosdarling @crysugu @getosbunny
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being a college student wasn't as fun as you expected.
you were never the smartest one of the class but having so much responsibilities in university and a part time job caused you to carry a heavy weight on your shoulders. you had to be organized and rigorous, what caused you to be picked on by some annoying guys and to be put in the same group of the nerds.
they weren't bad, it was the opposite actually; they were kind and fun people. still, you wondered if you could be enjoying your university days in a better way like going out and getting drunk. god, you don't even remember the last time you kissed someone.
you put those thoughts aside and knock on the door, holding your laptop and books under your arm while waiting. it wasn't common for you to help other students with projects and homeworks, most of them actually rather do everything alone than to ask help from a nerd, scared of their judgmental gazes and superiority complex. but you always hated all the stereotypes and jokes coming from your friends, calling girls dumb only because they wear makeup or making fun of the buff muscular guys for getting bad grades.
you actually wanted to change that.
it surely wasn't because you almost melted when atsumu went to your table with those puppy eyes asking if you could help him with his homework, scratching his head and flexing his arm muscles in an attempt to impress you.
no, it wasn't that. you're just really generous and helpful.
"oh-!" suddenly, the door opens to reveal a very shirtless atsumu, blonde curls still damp from the shower. he looks surprised, shy even, looking at you like he didn't expect to see you there. shit, did he forgot you were coming? "sorry cutie, i didn't expect you'd come so early."
you purse your lips at that petname, "i actually texted you before i left my dorm," you say, watching him entering his dormitory again and throwing some clothes inside his wardrobe, trying to clean things up before wearing a shirt. "i can come later if you want..."
"no! it's okay, cutie, please make yourself at home." his smile is bright, showing his adorable little canines to you.
you enter his dorm, it looks exactly like yours, just less... organized.
"is osamu here?" you ask, sitting on his chair in front of the computer.
"uh, no, he went out with some girl, he left a few minutes ago," atsumu offers you a glass of water and you accept it. "i said i wanted to be alone with my cutie so we could study." you choke embarrassingly loud, coughing water and punching your own chest at his words. atsumu gets up to pat your back gently, helping you to calm down, completely oblivious to his effect on you. "are you okay, baby?"
you clear your throat, "y-yes, i'm okay. thank you, atsumu."
"you can call me tsumu! it's how all my friends call me."
you stare. a lot. you can't help it, he looks like a puppy who just learned how to walk, smiling and blushing at you like you make him shy just by looking at him.
"okay... tsumu," you smile, earning a cheerful nod from him. "we can start by reading some of your notes, is that alright? have you done some notes from the class?"
"alright, uhhh... i don't often write notes, i just kind of... listen to it."
"oh, that's okay, people have different ways of learning, i also don't write much, only stuff i think it's important like dates."
"really?" atsumu furrows his brows, looking at the distance like he's thinking deeply at what you just said.
you nod, "yeah! well, we can just read some of mine and you can write your own notes, it's going to help you to remember a few important things, alright?"
atsumu blinks a few times before opening a smile, "yeah! that sounds hella fun!"
you giggle, "not sure if that's the right word but i like your enthusiasm."
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you and atsumu ended up writing a few notes and you tried to explain the subject in a way that would be easier for him to understand and memorize. still, everytime you looked at him he had that open-mouth stare with big eyes like he's paying so much attention to what you're saying that he forgot about the rest of the world. it was cute, but you offered to help him a few more time before he finished his homework.
it was already dark outside by the time you both had ended writing down some notes and discussed the subject, your neck was hurting and you just wanted to stay away from the books for a while.
"i think i should be going now," you say, getting and collecting your pens and notes.
"aren't you forgetting anything?" atsumu asks, extremely close to your ear.
"hum, i don't think so..." your body is turned around quickly to face atsumu, he has a smirk on his face and his hands are placed on your waist, fingers sneaking under your shirt to touch your smooth skin. "atsumu?"
"you're such a pretty girl," he runs finger through your neck, tilting your chin up to rub his thumb on your bottom lip. "and you treat me so well," you can feel atsumu's cologne impregnating on your skin, his hot breath hitting your face softly. "let me thank you for that."
"atsumu, y-you don't need to, i just wanted to help." you place your hand on his chest to try and push him away but the feeling of how big and strong he is under your smaller hands it's too good to be true, you can't help but rub your hands through his broad chest that looked so good under that tight shirt.
"i know, cutie, that's what i love about you. you're always trying to help, aren't you?" atsumu chuckles at how hypnotized you are by his body, your little fingers running through his shoulders and chest like you want to memorize that moment forever. he licks his lips, slowly blinking at you. "so what's gonna be? are you gonna let me fuck your tight little pussy or do i have to beg for it?"
you don't hold yourself back when you kiss him, it's all tongue and quick breaths, sloppily trying to gain space inside each other's mouths while atsumu bites your bottom lip and smirks at the pitiful whine you let out. you're pushed onto the bed, atsumu looks much bigger when his body is caging yours between those arms, his pretty eyes gazing at you wickedly.
he kneels on the bed to take his shirt off; you had seen him shirtless countless times, of course, but you never imagined he would get naked for you. only for you. he pecks your lips sweetly before asking:
"do you want me to eat you out, cutie?"
your brain short circuits, you can't mutter a single word in response, only nodding at him and letting atsumu tug your shirt up to reveal your boobs, which he's quick to squeeze and lick, closing his lips around your nipples to suck it hard. you haven't felt all these sensations in so long that it almost feels like something completely new.
atsumu trails his kisses down to your belly, opening your jeans and pulling them down your legs, revealing your pink panties with a tiny little bow on the front.
"cute panties." he says, chuckling when you groan.
"shut up."
you nervously watch as atsumu places himself between your thighs, kissing you over the panties before rubbing his fingers against your warm pussy, smiling when you whimper.
"you make the cutest sounds, kitten. keep doing that for me, okay?" he encourages, tugging your panties down your legs. you can't help the nervousness and embarrassment, you haven't been naked in front of someone else in a long time, wondering if atsumu likes what he's looking at. and, like he read your mind, he swears under his breath. "you're so fucking pretty, baby. such a cute little pussy, and it's all for me, isn't it?"
you bite your lip to hold back a smile, nodding at him. next thing you know is that atsumu's tongue feels like heaven, lapping at your slit like there's no tomorrow. atsumu closes is lips around your clit and sucks it hard, you often feel the cold metal of his tongue piercing against your skin, it actually makes it much more exciting.
atsumu grunts against your pussy, "i'm gonna make you cum and then i'm gonna fuck real good, is that okay?"
you lift your head from the pillow to look at him, his saliva mixed to your juices dripping down his chin while he holds your thighs apart. you can't help but giggle.
"yeah, tsumu, that sounds like a plan."
he smiles before diving right back in to your cunt, using his fingers to push your labia to the sides and flick his tongue on your clit. atsumu is incredibly skilled with his mouth and fingers, sliding two of them into your tight hole and bending his knuckles to rub them against your g-spot. you curve your back at the indescribable sensation of his digits inside you, cumming with a loud moan that atsumu is quick to muffle with his other hand, knowing that people can probably hear you.
"fuck, you taste amazing, kitten." he mutters, kissing your lips and letting you taste your own arousal. "now i wonder how my dick is going to feel inside this sweet little cunt."
you whine, "tsumu, please..."
atsumu gives one more of his extremely attractive chuckles, taking his sweatpants off with his boxers to reveal his cock. you imagined he would have a big dick but you didn't imagine it would be this big. you're impressed by his thickness, the pink head leaking with precum and showing you that he was enjoying eating you out as much as you did.
"f-fuck, i don't think i can, tsumu!" you whine against your hand, fear and excitement running through your body as you watch him massaging his cock in front of you, atsumu spits on his hand and lines his massive length with your pussy.
"you girls always say this," he rolls his eyes, poking your entrance with the tip of his dick, slowly pushing in as he watches your glasses getting foggy. "and i always make it fit, cutie. don't worry."
you hook your hands under your knees, watching with wide eyes as atsumu's cock splits you open, the stretch is painful but you're thankful that he helped you with his fingers earlier, it definitely made it much easier to take all his girth.
still, he didn't fail to make you whimper pathetically when you realized he was entirely inside you, his pubic bone touching your clit softly.
"see? you took it like a champ, kitten." atsumu kisses you lovingly, his hand gently cupping your face as he starts to thrust slowly into you, he's all you can focus your attention on; his pretty plump lips leaving kisses on your collarbone and chest, long fingers massaging your nipples, broad and strong shoulders that you run your hands through to feel every muscle stretching while he moves his hips skilfully.
atsumu can't hide the way his face is flustered and how his eyes are watering as he feels your warm cunt clenching around him, putting his face on your neck while you moan so prettily in his ear.
"oh⏤! oh my god," you moan. "tsumu, i feel you so deep." atsumu grins, touching your belly where he can feel the outline of his cock. "p-please, wanna cum!"
he pecks your lips lovingly before putting your hands away to hold your knees against your chest, "do it then, kitten. and i'm gonna reward you by filling your tummy with my cum." you only lay there and cum while atsumu keeps thrusting into your cunt as fast as he can while still trying to not hurt you, watching as you put your hand over your mouth and whimper, legs shaking as you reach your climax. "f-fuck, kitten, you're creaming all around my cock. i'm gonna cum, okay?"
"yes! please, tsumu, cum inside me!"
atsumu is handsome, but he looks out of this world when he cums. he's sweaty and glistening under the light, flushed face and watery eyes while he sounds so pathetically vulnerable, little whimpers and groans leaving his mouth as he fills you up completely, his cum leaking out of your pussy.
he holds you tight against him while you both catch your breaths, his hand caressing your sides softly.
"so," atsumu is the first one say something. "can you help me with all my homeworks until the end of the semester?"
you laugh against your hand, "are you asking me to be your fuck buddy or your teacher?"
"why not both?" he jokes, holding your face to kiss you. "my kitten."
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uc1wa · 4 months
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tags: fem reader, is called ‘mama’, you ‘n tsumu have a baby, fluff, suggestive, self indulgent i am having atsumu withdrawals
"who’s home?" you exclaim in a whisper to your wide-eyed baby who’s sat in your kitchen in front of you. her brows raise at the changed tone in your voice and the sound of the door. though she’s not of the age where words can fully be formulated, her eyes form small crescents as she reads over your face. small eyes matching your own and tiny baby teeth smiling as wide as yours.
the door opens and you hear a rustle of a backpack and coat, shoes making their way in before the door is locked with a click.
atsumu knew he wanted to have a baby with you. agreed to start trying after he’d won his first olympics, and a swollen belly became visible the first time you’d set down the pill and welcomed him with open legs.
"mmm," the blonde walks into the kitchen that’s lit up, smelling the food that you’d made and humming a satisfied moan. but he dramatically pauses in his tracks the second his daughter makes eye contact with him.
"who’s that?" he asks, face feigning innocence and curiosity. the same routine occurs every day, your baby knows it just as well. little legs flying to kick, accidentally hitting your arm, and small arms doing the same. a mixture of babbles following.
"is that…" he starts slowly, making his way to the high chair she’s sat at, arms extending towards his baby with a bib latched around her neck. "…my baby girl?" he finally exclaims, hands finding the underneath of her own, lifting her and bringing her to his broad chest—ignorant, or… he just doesn’t care about the baby food that smears from her bib to his practice jersey.
it’ll be washed anyways.
"you’re gonna make her throw up," you amuse, watching the way he holds her with a wide smile. the way he bounces her around when she hasn’t finished half of her food yet.
"‘s okay, mama. i’ll wash clothes tonight," he finally rests her against his chest, peering over her shoulder to you with a grin. "dinner smells good, what’d ya cook me, hm?" atsumu winks, taking a few steps to where you’re sat in front of a high chair, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head.
and then he stays there another beat. "give mama a kiss," he says in a silly baby voice, widening his eyes once more to match your baby’s. and maybe she understood those words, but it made you laugh the way her arms reached to grab either side of your head. pulling hair as he pushed her messy lips to your cheek.
"ya love mama? mhm, me too," atsumu chimes, standing back up with your baby, finding a chair that was sat beside you and taking a seat.
he sets her tiny form on the table for a few seconds, knowing that if she did make any quick movements, you’d grab her while he slung his msby backpack over his shoulder and to the floor. then his big hands found her again, tickling her belly while holding his hand out for you to place her food for him to feed her.
"gonna make our plates," you smile at the two of them and their interactions.
and just like every night, you both finish eating sitting side by side. atsumu throws some clothes into the wash as he lays your baby down to sleep. and somehow, some way, he’s pulling you into the shower with him, like always.
because he knows you take the best care of your sweet baby while he’s away at games and practice and work. "mama deserves to be taken care of too," he reminds you, hot water dripping from his lips to yours.
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kleftiko · 11 months
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❦ TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF PT. 2
ft. sakusa, kageyama, atsumu
PART 1
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—sakusa
when people ask you what your skin care routine is, you shrug. how are you supposed to know if you’re not the one that does it? your boyfriend does. you’re his little doll that sits pretty for him as he places the products in his hands to warm them up before patting them on your soft skin (patting, not rubbing, he’s very insistent on that). it’s a multiple step routine everyday and sometimes he’s very annoying about it, but he rewards you with a soft kiss on your lips every single time without fail.
—kageyama
takes you two on a monthly date to get your nails done. the both of you are sitting side by side as your cuticles are getting cut and his nails are getting shaped. he’s helping you pick out a new colour and he’s telling the nail techs all the new shit that’s going on with his team. even though he doesn’t get any polish (doesn’t want anything on his fingers) he still blows on them like he sees you do. then he’s paying and, depending on the weather, taking you to get a drink so you can show everyone at the cafe your new nails.
—atsumu
sometimes washing your hair is a hassle. you get into a rut where you can’t bring yourself to shower despite feeling like shit. that’s where your boyfriend comes in, with his wide smile and gentle teasing, he sits you down in the tub and lets the hot water run down your body. he’s mixing together random shampoos, acting like they’re different ingredients for a salad that is your hair. his fingers are massaging your scalp as he pretends to ‘toss’ the ‘ingredients’ together. it’s sweet and funny and even if it doesn’t bring you out of your slump, it makes you feel clean and loved.
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satorisoup · 4 months
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haiiiiii, could I request atsumu teaching his s/o how to play volleyball
#ATSUMU TEACHING HIS GF VOLLEYBALL
#A/N : ughhhh i love atsumu bro. this is so cute ARGHRGRG. ts is short im sorry.
#WARNINGS : f!reader. petnames (babe).
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atsumu thinks he just won the lottery. a pretty, lovely girlfriend who he loves so dearly, AND who’s interested in having him teach her volleyball? yeah, he won.
here you both stand in inarizaki’s volleyball gym, a volleyball basket to your side and one in atsumu’s hand.
“okay babe, watch. put yer hands like this.”
he gestures his arms close to his chest, with his palms opened.
“like this?”
“like that. okay now im gonna serve the ball to ya. just catch it in your hands, and pump your arms out. easy peasy.”
he throws the ball to you, and you try doing exactly what he says. but, they say “practice makes perfect”for a reason.
the ball was practically thrown across the gym, ricocheting off the wall and back to the floor.
“tsumu… i don’t think your definition of ���easy peasy’ is accurate…”
“well… ls’try again, yeah?”
and you did.
again.
and again.
and again.
until finally, you did it. not perfect, obviously, but definitely better.
“see! god, i knew you could do it. a hot girlfriend who plays volleyball with me, i js’know ‘samu’s jealous.”
you stride over to atsumu to lay a kiss on his cheek, quietly laughing.
“oh ‘tsumu, ever the romantic.”
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hihello-pinky · 4 months
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varsity crush
atsumu miya x afab reader
some fluff, i guess
i originally wanted to write a full fic based on pixie labrador’s song (hence, the title) but somehow i ended up with this drabble. ALSO i know it’s a sapphic song but damn, the first time i listened to it and heard the lyrics about volleyball, haikyuu was my first thought
miya atsumu who has been your classmate since sixth grade; who you always only thought of as osamu’s loudmouth brother who once lent you his jacket when it was cold and you forgot to bring yours.
atsumu who was your partner for cleaning duty at seventh grade; who would almost always miss the task because he made it a habit to rush to the gym after last period.
atsumu who made your heart skip a beat when he passed you a note asking you to the eighth grade dance; who raises an eyebrow at your questioning look and says the note is from osamu.
atsumu who was your seatmate during ninth grade; who would distract you during class with the sound of his pen scraping against his notebook as he sketched volleyball plays.
atsumu who surprises you when he enters the classroom on the first day of tenth grade with his blonde hair; who you couldn’t stop looking at because his lightened hair made him more handsome.
atsumu who, one night, dropped by your grandpa’s convenience store looking for an onigiri; who told you as he reached the counter that he had a fight with osamu and he wanted to give it as a peace offering.
atsumu, who somehow made it a habit to drop by the convenience store after practice to buy energy drinks; who always buy one of those candies displayed at the counter and conveniently “forgets” them, sending you a quick message to just keep it.
atsumu who approached you after class one thursday afternoon in eleventh grade; who shared he needed help in his studies in order to stay in the volleyball club and asked you to tutor him.
atsumu who began sharing a table with you at lunch under the pretense of having more time to discuss about lessons but always made it a point to just talk about random stuff; who in time recruited his brother and suna to your lunch table.
atsumu who lovingly accepts gifts from his fans at your lunch table; who smiles so sweetly at the girls as it makes you inwardly frown, confusing yourself.
atsumu who, at the first month of twelfth grade, excitedly tells you he made captain as he walked you home; who grinned at you as he showed you his jersey and jacket with his last name.
atsumu who became much busier due to volleyball but would always somehow find time in his calendar to stay with you either in a coffee shop or library as you studied for college entrance exams; who would force you to take a break as he snatches the pen from your hand (my old captain, kita, would scold you!)
atsumu who gets surprised once you tell him you’re going with them to the nationals; who teases you for volunteering to cover for the school newspaper; who is actually secretly happy that you’re coming.
atsumu who gives you his jacket before their first game “in case you get cold”; who makes the girls beside you at the bleachers squeal when he smiles at your direction once he sees you wearing his jacket and cheering for him.
atsumu who lets you see his tears for the first time as you comfort him when inarizaki places second; who listens to your gentle voice as you sincerely tell him that you believe there are lots of greater opportunities for him in the future once he goes pro.
atsumu who passes you a note before class with prom? written in his messy handwriting; atsumu who receives a note from you saying is this from osamu again?; atsumu who bites back a smile as he passes back the note, so the bastard told you?; atsumu who doesn’t notice his ears reddening until suna points it out but he doesn’t care at all as he reads your note: yes, and yes i’ll go to prom with you.
atsumu who surprises you at prom because as athletic as he is, he sucks at slow dancing; atsumu who makes you blush as he tightens his hand around your waist as soon as you two finally find the rhythm; atsumu who leans to you closely and whispers in your ear how beautiful you are; atsumu who plants a soft kiss at the top of your head after you tell him to shut up and accidentally step on his shoes.
atsumu who runs to hug you at graduation, wrapping his strong arms around your smaller figure and lifting you in the air; who attends your class’ afterparty with you where you end up playing truth or dare.
atsumu who chokes on his drink as your bottle ends up on him and you ask him on when he plans to ask you out; who, after composing himself, gives you a cheesy smile and asks you to be his girlfriend; who blushes so hard, making osamu and suna laugh, when you say yes and kiss him on the cheek.
miya atsumu who you never thought would capture your heart; atsumu who somehow also fell for you; atsumu who you would be cheering on for the rest of your life.
it doesn’t matter whether you’re wearing his jacket or not; he already gave you his last name, anyway.
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loveephia · 1 year
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:¨ ·.· ¨: ハイキュー!! some HQ boys with a girlfriend that's the . . .
`· . ꔫ . . . complete opposite of their type. (atsumu and kuroo.)
a/n: i made up atsumu's type (basically m'just going off of saeko's appearance and personality. iykyk.) while kuroo's is canon.
⚠ warning/s: none.
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ATSUMU MIYA
when you first heard that atsumu's type was an older girl with short hair and a rebellious personality, you got insecure quickly. you were the same age as him, your hair was definitely past the required length for it to be called "short", and you were literally the opposite of rebellious.
you stayed in school, obeyed your parents, refused to do anything even slightly against your morals, and you even ended up on the student council as a second year.
you were known as the virtuous and adorable secretary of inarizaki! how could anyone ever put your name and "rebellious" in the same sentence?
on the walk home with atsumu, you were gloomy about the dreadful topic all day because there were plenty of other girls that easily fit into the description of his type.
did he pity your confession?
atsumu noticed you being less responsive than usual, and he knew that something was up.
"hey, you okay, pretty?" he asked.
you sighed heavily, not wanting to talk about what's on your mind, especially with him. "i heard from osamu about your.. your type in girls."
atsumu raised a brow. "yeah? what about it?"
"i just.. why are you with me?" you started off strong, "i'm nowhere near your type. if anything, i'm literally the opposite."
atsumu blinks at you.
"what'd 'samu tell you?" he asks.
"that you liked older, short haired, rebellious girls?"
atsumu grits his teeth. that lying little pig.
he reassures you that you're exactly his type, and even if you weren't, he still believes that he'd fall for you over and over again.
KUROO TETSURŌ
you have short hair, and contrary to popular belief, kuroo likes girls with long hair, so needless to say that you got self-conscious.
you loved your short hair, but maybe kuroo would love you more if you grew it out.
so, by the next summer, you and kuroo are finally third years, and he sees your now beautifully long hair. it was practically shining under the warm sunlight.
"did you grow out your hair?" he asks, quite surprised, threading a small part of your hair with his long fingers. silky, he thinks. you hum, "just a bit. do you like it?" you ask, your tone full of hope.
"of course i do, kitten. but don't you like it short?"
"..yes, but—" kuroo's expression makes you stop talking. it's one of unhappiness.
"is this because yaku said that i had a type for girls with long hair?"
when you're unresponsive to the query, that only confirms kuroo's suspicion.
he sighs, "have you ever heard of the 'revisionist history'?" you shake your head.
"it occurs when people start dating somebody they like and their preferences change to match the traits of the person they're dating." kuroo smiles, tucking the small part of hair he was threading with earlier behind your ear. "so whatever you do with your hair, i'd most definitely still love you. you don't have to change yourself for me, or for anyone else for that matter."
his reassuring words were enough to make you tear up at that moment. it's nothing too life-changing, but it helped lift some of the heavy weight off your chest.
"wanna go on a date to the mall this weekend? i'll pay for your salon appointment." kuroo kindly offers, knowing how much you missed your short hair. you nod.
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© lowercase intended | loveephia
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bokutizer · 1 year
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miya atsumu loves you. he loves you aggressively. he loves you brotherly. he loves you so much, it hurts. literally. in other words, he tends to love you the same way he loves his twin brother.
yet, what this huge ape often forgets is that you don’t have his brother’s stature nor his pain tolerance. he means no harm. he swears! he just can’t control himself around you, and neither can he control his own strength, both leading to a few bruises along your arms or a bump on your head every once in a while. (did I mention that he means no harm?) the worst is, even when he accidentally gets a lil' too rough with you, his first reaction is to laugh. like, he'll legit make fun of you.
except he realizes you've gone quiet. too quiet. why aren’t you trying to hit him back? kick him? yell at him? "baby? hey-" it’s in these moments that he wishes your kicks would have the same strength and brutality as 'samu's because, goddamn, he hates being the cause behind those pretty teary eyes. "what-what’s wrong?"
"that hurt, you idiot." you frown at him, your hand pressed against the pulsing pain on the back of your head after your little playful wrestling session ended up with you hitting your head against the headboard of your bed. "shit, 'm sorry. let me see." of course there’s neither blood nor any open wound, yet that’s not a reason for atsumu to be any less dramatic.
"c'mere, let me kiss it better." he pouts at you, his hands holding you with gentleness as he tenderly caresses your head. his kisses feel featherlight as you feel them travel from the back of your head to your face, their warmth seeping into your skin and soothing the dull pain as if they were advil. "'m so, so sorry, princess. won't happen again."
it will, you want to say. but you don’t. because you love miya atsumu. so much. you love they way he is, you love the way he loves.
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natriae · 9 months
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10:23pm
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"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
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hqbaby · 8 months
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six — best
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fuck ur instincts — suna x reader & atsumu x reader
you and suna are just fooling around—so why does he care so much when you start falling in love with someone else?
previous — masterlist — next
word count. 2k content. swearing, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, slight dacryphilia, cum eating, use of pet names
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“Pay up, fuckers!”
The boys groan as you hold your hands out for them to drop their money into. One by one, they reach into their pockets and begrudgingly hand you their bets. You’ve just bested them a beer pong again.
“Fuckin’ cheerleaders, man,” Aran murmurs. “Yukie fucked us up at the last party too.”
You walk over to Atsumu with a shit-eating grin on your face. “You still owe me.”
He rolls his eyes at you then takes your face with one hand, planting a kiss on your lips. When he pulls away to find you looking stunned, he smirks. “That’s worth at least a thousand yen.”
Your grin is back. “Cocky,” you say. “I kinda dig it.”
So wrapped up being the center of attention, you don’t seem to feel Suna’s unrelenting gaze on you. He just can’t look away. It’s like his eyes are glued to your figure, taking it all in. The way you charm everyone until they’re eating out of your hand. The way you always have a witty little quip to say when they try to get under your skin. The way you light up when you’re near Atsumu and the way you close your eyes when he kisses you. 
He sees it all from the corner of the room, nursing his beer. And the whole time, there’s only one thing on his mind: He really needs to fuck you right now.
You pull away from the rest of the group and head to the kitchen to get another drink.
“Hey, Suna,” you greet when you pass by him. “Haven’t seen much of you tonight. You find a girl you like?”
He follows you out of the room, the two of you walking into an empty corridor. Well, it’s more or less empty. The only people there are passed out on the floor.
Before you know it, your back is pressed against the wall and Suna’s lips are on yours. It’s messy and harsh, all teeth and force. There’s no method to how he touches you, his hands are just everywhere, grabbing any part of you that he can.
You withdraw your lips from his, lightly pushing him away. “Wait, wait, wait,” you say, trying to get a good look at him in the dimly-lit corridor. You can’t see much, but you can see his eyes. The way they stare at you, hungry. “What’s going on, Suna?”
His voice is low and rough. “Don’t call me that.”
“What?”
“Suna,” he says. “It’s Rin to you.”
You crack a smile at the request. “Rin,” you say quietly, obliging, “what’s going on?”
“I need to fuck you.”
His hands are on your shoulders, face just inches away from yours. You can smell the alcohol on his breath, but you know he’s sober. Just really horny, you guess.
“Like… right now?” You give him a bemused look. “Your friends are right there,” you try to remind him, nodding your head at the door to the living room. “They aren’t exactly supposed to know about this, right?”
He answers you with another searing kiss. “I don’t care,” he says against your lips. “I want you.”
At that, you kiss him back, melting into his frantic touch. “I want you too.”
Your words shoot straight to his cock and he lets out a groan. Careful not to step over the people on the floor around you, you both stumble into the closest bathroom, mouths still linked and hands still searching one another.
“Get on the counter,” he commands, locking the door behind him.
You do as he says and reach your hands out for him. The heat between your legs grows. “Rin, I need you.”
He’s back on you, hands running up and down your back as he lets you slip your tongue into his mouth. He moves his fingers between your legs, pushing your panties aside to touch your dripping core. “Fuck, baby.” He pulls his soaked hand up for you to see. “Would you look at that?”
You nod mindlessly, trying to pull him as close to you as you can. When he starts pressing his fingers against your clit, you grab his wrist. “No,” you say desperately. “I want you in me now.”
“You sure you can take me?” His voice is teasing. “Might break you.”
Your hands go up to his hair, yanking him forward to crash your lips into his. “I don’t care. Please, Rin.”
“Please what?”
“Please fuck me.”
You don’t have to tell him twice. In a second, he pulls you off the counter, turns you around, and bends you over. He lifts your skirt up and rips your panties away like they’re nothing.
“Rin,” you whine. “Why’d you do that?”
He places the piece of fabric in his pocket. “It’s fine,” he tells you, landing a harsh blow to your ass. “I won’t let anyone see you.”
You moan at the sting of his touch. Your eyes land on the mirror in front of you, catching a glimpse of your fucked out state. It’s filthy, the way Suna has you bent over, your tits threatening to spill out of your top, legs spread to the side for him. Behind you, you can see him unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants down, eyes focused on your pussy.
Then, you feel it. The head of his cock pressed against your folds, moving up and down as he gathers your slick.
“Don’t tease.”
He chuckles. “Just making sure you’re ready to take me.”
Without warning, he slides all the way inside of you. You scream at the mix of pain and pleasure overtaking your senses as Suna’s hand comes to cover your mouth.
“Gotta keep it down, babe,” he tells you as he starts to thrust. He goes faster every time he moves, impatiently fucking into you, your walls clenching around him. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”
You grip the edge of the counter as the knot in your stomach tightens. Suna moves in and out of you at a brutal pace, your entire body being tossed back and forth by the sheer force of it. Muffled moans spill out of your lips and your eyes roll so far back into your head you swear you can see your skull.
“Taking me so well,” he hisses. One hand moves away from your mouth and goes to grip your hips while the other comes up to grab your hair and yank your head up. “Open your eyes, baby. Look at yourself. All fucked out on my cock.”
You try your best to look at the sight in front of you, the way Suna uses your body like it’s nothing, the way he pounds into you from behind. Tears slip out the corners of your eyes as your pleasure reaches immeasurable heights.
He snickers. “Is my pretty baby crying?” he asks. “Am I fucking you too good?”
No words come out of you, just endless whimpers. You try to keep yourself quiet knowing that, even if the music outside is blaring, you’re being loud enough for anyone passing by to hear. Then, a sharp thrust sends your entire body lurching forward and a borderline pornographic moan slips out of your mouth. There’s no way you can keep quiet, not when Suna’s fucking you like this.
“Can’t even speak now, can you? Too drunk on my cock.” He knows you’re close, he can feel you clenching around him, so tight it’s making it harder for him to move. His hand pulls away from your head and goes down to rub your swollen clit. “Such a pretty fucking girl,” he says. “So pretty when I fuck you.”
Without his support, your head drops, mind too focused on your impending orgasm. You rock back and forth with each relentless thrust, your chest heaving with effort and adrenaline. “Rin,” you moan. “I’m so close.”
“I know, baby, I know,” he murmurs, leaning over your back until his lips are right beside your ear. “I’m right there with you. Come for me.”
And, just like that, a wave hits you, riding your high as Suna continues to fuck you through it. You swear the counter should be crumbling from just how hard your grip is, clinging onto it for dear life. The sounds falling out of your mouth are sinful, downright sacrilege.
With a few more thrusts, Suna stills, cum spurting deep inside you. He grabs your hips so tight that you already know they’ll bruise in the morning. His body slumps over yours, just as spent as you are. He wraps his arms around you as the two of you try to get your bearings, slouched over the counter for a moment, Suna’s dick softening inside of you.
After a beat, you start giggling. “Where did that come from?”
You can feel him smile against your shoulder. “I told you. Your skirt’s cute,” he says, peeling himself off you as you both pull apart. You wobble a little and he catches you just in time, holding you against his chest. “That’s got to be at least in the top 5.”
Your hand slaps his chest at the comment. “Oh definitely,” you tell him with a smile. “Maybe even in the top 3.”
He pumps his fist. “I still got it.”
You laugh.
Suna pulls his pants back up and fixes his belt while you retouch your makeup in the mirror. You’re focused on applying your lipstick when he notices his cum sliding down the insides of your thigh. He turns to look for some toilet paper and pales a little when he sees the empty dispenser.
“Shit.”
You look at him with concern. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, no, it’s just…” He motions at your legs. “There’s no toilet paper here. I can go out and find something.”
You glance down, see what he’s talking about, then look back at him and shake your head. “It’s fine.”
“What? Y/N—”
What you do next has him stunned, gaping at you. You slide two fingers up your thigh, gathering the cum spilling out of you, and pop your fingers in your mouth, sucking on them as your eyes stare right into his.
After rendering him speechless, you come closer, chest pressed against his. Then, you cup a hand to his ear and whisper with a smirk, “I know I’m the best you’ve ever had.”
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“Ya good?” Atsumu asks when you come back to join the group. “I was just ‘bout to go lookin’ for ya.”
You coo at him. “Aw, aren’t you sweet?” you say, grabbing his hand. “I’m fine. I just had to make a call.”
“Everythin’ okay?”
“Yeah. Just forgot to tell my roommate I was going out tonight.”
Suna walks into the room a little while after you. It wasn’t really like you were trying to hide it. Besides, you highly doubted anyone would even suspect that there was something going on between the two of you, but you tried to stagger your entrances anyway. Just in case.
He finds you on the couch, huddled over a game of Uno with some of the other guys. You’re sitting on Atsumu’s lap with your brows furrowed in concentration. When you look up to see him, you beam.
“Suna, come join us!” you say like you weren’t just fucking him in the bathroom ten minutes ago. “There’s room over there beside Hinata.”
The bright-haired boy waves at him and pats the spot to his right, on the floor beside the coffee table. “Come on,” he says. “We’re trying to beat Y/N.”
As he takes a seat, you pull a reverse on Aran’s “Draw 4.” He curses loudly. “How the hell?”
Atsumu laughs as you lean back into his chest. He kisses the crown of your head and places a hand on top of your thigh (your legs are crossed… for obvious reasons), rubbing tiny circles into your skin. “Fuckin’ told ya, man,” he says. “Y/N’s just the best.”
Suna clenches his fists on his lap. It shouldn’t bother him, but it does. It’s not like he didn’t see it coming.
He always knew you were the best. He should’ve known that didn’t just apply to him.
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notes. this one is for the suna girlies 🫡 and also totally not bc the angst is real!1!!1! i also realize now that i made the reader in this series too hot for her own good like i would fall in love with her too yk?? i’m not choosing a side i’m team reader all the way🧎‍♀️
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missmeinyourbones · 8 months
Note
L, pro athlete atsumu and reader for "the only kind of girl they see is a one night or a wife" has me THINKING
ONE NIGHT OR A WIFE (a. miya)
a/n: pro athlete atsumu, implied woman identifying reader -> slight talks of womanhood and slut-shaming, atsumu is trying so hard he has the spirit he’s just ken
L’s MIDNIGHTS EVENT!
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When the front door clicks behind you,  you're greeted with the back of a messy blonde mop peeking from above the lip of the couch. Atsumu doesn't have to turn around to know it's you coming through the door, but you don't even give him a chance to guess with the immediate interrogation flying from your lips.
"Why are we trending on Twitter?"
Amused, Atsumu turns around to catch a glimpse of your panicked face before he smirks, turning around and redirecting his attention back to the television.
"Oh, they think I proposed to you again."
His words oddly bring a wave of comfort over you, and when you exhale and plop down on the cushion next to his sprawled-out limbs, he lets his hand gently run through your frizzy hair.
And you don't pretend to ignore how it's weird that this calms you—that enough people on the internet typed and searched and chatted about the two of you to get it trending. How many people need to talk about something for it to trend worldwide? You think about googling it, but that's a headache waiting to happen.
Instead, you slump into his touch and try to keep your tone humorous when you ask, "On what grounds this time?"
Atsumu is now far from affected by the newlywed allegation, as this isn't the first (or second) time the media thinks he's popped the question to you. You always feel a bit warm when remembering the first time the rumor spiraled. How flustered he was, how he couldn’t meet your eye when opening the app for weeks, how it led to your first actual conversation about a future together. 
Now immune to the gossip, he casually fishes for his phone in his sweatpants and lazily pulls up a paparazzi photo of the two of you leaving dinner a few nights ago.
"Here," he hands the screen to you, borderline yawning. “This picture from the other night,” he has the audacity to point knowingly, like it’s common sense when he says, "left hand is hidden in yer jacket pocket."
You guess he is right, your left hand is tucked away into your coat in the photo, but that's because it's almost winter, and you're human, despite what some may argue.
The photo itself isn't even anything crazy—a candid shot of the two of you walking to the car. Atsumu's hand is on your back, seemingly guiding you as you walk along the curb. Your right hand rests on your purse, and your left apparently hides a flashy diamond ring in the suede of your pocket.
Atsumu hears you scoff at the stupidity, "So naturally that means I'm your wife now?"
He smiles and scratches your head with loving fingers.
"Yup," he pops the last part of the word before looking over to you with a grin. "Apparently the rock was so big, it had to be hidden in fear of blindin' the paparazzi."
He’s teasing, it’s lighthearted, but your eyes don't leave the photo when you softly furrow your brow.
"Why do they keep assuming we're engaged?" you lowly mumble, to him or yourself, Atsumu doesn't know, but he hears it all the same. Your voice almost wavers when you weakly exhale, "This is like the fourth time."
Carefully, as if you’re suddenly made of glass, Atsumu pulls the phone from your grasp, and you don't put up a fight when he easily swipes it and shimmies it back into his pocket.
"Dunno baby,” his voice whispers as his hand finds your shoulder. “People like to talk. I can't even begin to name the craziest rumors I've heard about me."
You hum to let him know you're listening, but when you don't elaborate much more than that, Atsumu knows something isn't quite right.
Not one to let his thoughts spiral, he thinks for all about two seconds before deciding that he’s getting to the bottom of this.
He tries to act like a normal person, stretching his arms and casually asking, "Does it bother you or somethin’?"
You're quiet for a moment like you're thinking extra hard about what to say. And when you do take a deep inhale and open your mouth, Atsumu feels a bit queasy.
"In a way," is all you allow to come out.
In a way? Atsumu doesn't know what to do with that. That could mean a million things. In what way? A good one? A terrible one? A way that makes you mad at him, at the world, at yourself? He needs more from you, but he’s too afraid to ask. 
You think a part of you breaks when his big brown eyes water a bit, but the tears are quickly blinked away through long lashes when he shakes his head.
"I—I'm sorry. I didn't know you felt that way."
You shift to sit up on your knees a bit, gently touching his jaw that's clenched to the touch. "Hey, hey no,” you watch him tilt his sour face away from you when you coo, “Not like that, don't apologize."
With the slightest pressure on his cheek, you're able to get him to face you again, where you're met with a grouchy pout and some slight hostility. 
You feel his jaw twitch and unclench when you place a delicate kiss on the carved bone. Your voice is soft, cautious when it rises to elaborate.
"People thinking we're married isn't what bothers me," you gently breathe. "We've talked about it, right? We're just not ready yet."
True, he thinks, logic returning to his clouded thoughts. Atsumu nods at your words, though his eyebrows are still downturned with stress.
"Right. So what does bother ya about it?"
He watches you open and close your mouth a few times, trying to find the right way to say the right words, but there really isn't a tailored combination for the sticky conversation at hand. He almost thinks you give up until your hand tenderly rubs his stiff neck and your voice comes out barely a whisper.
"It can be tough sometimes," your voice wavers with uncertainty, "y'know, being a woman associated with someone like you."
Atsumu turns his head to you in confusion, but he doesn't say anything. Because he trusts you—he might not understand, but he trusts that you do, that you're aware of something he might not be, and that you can explain it in a way he might be able to grasp.
He watches you shy in the slightest, struggling in silence with your tongue.
"I'm either slut shamed for being someone just fucking you or written off as your property. There's never really an in-between, y’know?" you choose to shrug. 
Atsumu shoots you a sympathetic tight-lipped smile because though he'd never agree, he's not stupid. He knows what people can say about you, sees the headlines and hashtags every now and then.
"Y'know," his voice comes uncharacteristically soft, "one time I read that I flunked out of high school."
Your eyebrows raise at the turn in conversation, "Did you?"
"No," he scoffs. "Wasn't a nerd or anythin' but I graduated like everybody else."
You hum in thought at his confession, but it doesn’t seem to get his point across so he continues. "One said I was on steroids, another said pills."
He takes a small amount of pride in the way your frown slightly quirks up at the corners.
"Please,” you huff out a breathy scoff, “you pout like a baby when you get your blood drawn and can barely keep up with your daily vitamins."
He fights off a smile, ignoring the teasing and resting his head on yours as he goes on.
"My favorite was that one theory that me and 'Samu switch lives regularly. Sometimes when I look a little pudgy, they claim it's him with bleached hair, so we can both live out the Olympic dream."
You actually laugh at that, a real one, and Astumu thinks the sound itself could make flowers bloom and storm clouds disperse.
"Well that one can't be true, you can't cook for shit," he hears you mumble against his neck. 
"Hey now," he gently smacks your thigh at your fresh words. "The point is that people say things all the damn time and I know it's not really the same as what they say about you, but..."
His tongue falters at the touchy subject, a hill he knows he’ll never conquer but is willing to die trying to defend you on.
He thinks for a moment before saying with certainty, "But we both know what's true and what isn't, right?"
You angle your neck to look up at him with sarcasm. "And what's true? That you're a healthy high school graduate with a twin brother who doesn't play Parent Trap with you?"
"What's true," he whines a bit, flicking your forehead before placing a small kiss on it, "is that I love you, and I'm absolutely marryin' you, just when the time is right."
You melt, both at his touch and his words, and for once in his life, Atsumu knows he's said the right thing when he feels you lean onto him a bit more. He takes on the comfortable weight like an Olympic medal, one he’d proudly wear everywhere if he could.
And as Atsumu goes on and on, your night gets that much better, and the silly rumor from some stupid tabloid doesn’t seem nearly as important as it did when you first got home.
"And yer ring is gonna be bigger than whatever the paparazzi imagined. And they'll be pissed when they find out we eloped and they missed the ceremony pics. And when we actually trend on Twitter for the right reason—"
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sunarc · 8 months
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All Mine
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Synopsis: Atsumu knows the two of you are just friends with benefits but he is a jealous man and seeing Suna touch what’s his sends rage through his body. The next best thing to do is fuck you until his name is the only thing you know how to say.
Cw: smut, frat au, alcohol, cussing, breeding kink, easy access reader wearing skirt with no panties hehe, biting, dirty talk, fingering, jealous Atsumu, public sex technically (your in a bathroom) Atsumu is a cocky little shit at the end, afab reader, a little spanking, mentions of people listening in, unprotected sex, he calls the reader pretty, weird alcohol concoction 
wc:2K
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Atsumu can’t stand it. The way your eyes twinkle looking at him makes him feel physically sick. You’re smiling way too hard at him. Suna isn’t even that funny so what could he have possibly said to make you laugh so hard. He watched in disgust as your hand pushed against his shoulder in a playful manner. 
“He’s not even that funny” he voiced to Hinata over the loud music.
“Here, drink this, it'll make you feel better.” 
Hinata held out a cup filled with brown juice. He gave Atsumu a drunk yet eager smile waiting for him to try the concoction. 
“What is this?” Atsumu unwillingly tore his eyes away from you and Suna to look at Hinata. 
“I call it The Wicked Queef” Hinata nodded his head proud with the title. “Bokuto and I made it in the kitchen with something special.” 
“I’d rather not drink something named after a pussy fart” Atsumu turned away to look back at the pair that previously held his attention only to see the two long gone. 
“Shit” he walked off into a random direction in search of you with Hinata following closely behind.
“What is it? Did you want your own cup of Wicked Queef?”
Atsumu rolled his eyes. You were somewhere lost in the party, probably sucking faces with Suna. Atsumu felt his stomach churn and it wasn’t from the smell of Hinata and Bokuto’s weird mixture. 
“No, it’s Y/N she’s with that assface and I need to find them” his words were rushed as he pushed through the crowd. He opened the door to a backyard patio to see stragglers smoking and chatting. The area was big with a firepit and empty seats surrounding it. Atsumu sat in a chair by the slowly dying fire with a frustrated sigh.
“You guys aren’t even dating so why do you care?” Hinata slurred the words. He stood in front of Atsumu, two stepping off beat to the music from inside.
Atsumu let out a frustrated groan. Of course he knew that the two of you weren’t officially a thing but that didn’t change how he felt. You were his and seeing you flirt with Suna of all people sent fury racing through his blood. He knew what he was doing the moment he made you ride him in the backseat of his car. You had him in a deep trance. Your perfect moans and the way you whimpered his name, Atsumu didn’t want you to ever moan the name of another person again. He leaned his head back groaning at the words. 
“Does that really even matter?” he knew it mattered. You weren’t his to claim, so why was he so dead set on making that claim.
“Well yeah” Hinata stared at Atsumu with a blank stare. “It does matter because now your sitting out here jealous and grumpy”
“I’m not-” his words were cut off by the sliding door opening by none other than you. 
There you stood smiling so brightly. How could a person be so pretty? Atsumu’s heart pattered in his chest. A small smile began to form on his face until a tall figure appeared close behind you following like a lap dog. He rolled his eyes and folded his arms in a childish pout. 
“Why so grumpy?” you chuckled at him.
He looked up meeting your eyes. For a second all else disappeared. The tunes of an overplayed song faded away. The banter between Hinata and Suna about his weird juice disappeared and all that was left was you. 
“Ya look really- oh” his eyes trailed your body to see the fingers wrapping around your shoulder.
A scowl formed on his face. Fucking Suna. He sat back in his chair watching the two of you laugh and banter. Atsumu’s eyes were almost hurting from rolling them so hard. After what seemed like hours you stood up declaring you were going to the bathroom. Atsumu’s eyes followed your figure before getting up and following you leaving Suna behind with Hinata.
“It’s called Wicked Queef you should try it” Hinata slurred to Suna
“It smells like shit”
Atsumu squeezed past the crowd, eyes never leaving you. You reached the bathroom up stairs but before you could close the door Atsumu’s hand pushed it wider following you inside. You smiled watching him close the door behind himself. 
“I knew you were following me you creep” 
Atsumu ignored your comment, instead pushing you up against the sink. His hand grabbed your jaw and directed your face towards his own. His breath fanned against your lips.
“So Suna?” his voice was deep and if you weren’t so close to him you probably wouldn’t have heard him. 
You smirked at the rage in his eyes. 
“Is someone jealous?” you didn’t need him to say it out loud. From the way he gripped your jaw to the way he pressed his lower half against you exposed everything you need to know.
Atsumu chuckled at your words.
“You must’ve forgotten” his words were paired with his free hand sliding up the skirt you were wearing to your core. “Let me help you remember” His fingers massaged a circle against your clit.
“No panties?” A shocked look flashed across his face.
His lips attached to your neck sucking recklessly. 
You let out a vibrant moan as he shoved two thick fingers into your already leaking hole. His fingers rocked back and forth at an achingly slow pace. You pulled his body impossibly closer as moans fell past your lips. 
“Please Sumu, faster” you pleaded. 
Atsumu ignored your words humming at the desperation in your voice. His fingers danced against your gummy walls leaving you a shaking mess. You moved your hips against his hand matching his movements. You leaned your head back against the mirror behind you. Whimpers flowed past your lips. You felt yourself growing closer to a release. 
“Go ahead, cum on my fingers , I can feel you getting close.”
His words were like music to your ears. You were a stuttering mess feeling his fingers fuck you through your orgasm. Atsumu pulled his fingers from you and brought them to his lips. His eyes met yours as he sucked his fingers, licking the mess you had left behind. His fingers left his plump lips with a line of drool following. His rough hands pulled your shirt up revealing your chest and tossed it behind him. You would have yelled at him for throwing your shirt on a frat party floor but before you could speak he turned you around and bent you over the sink. He pulled your skirt down leaving it to pool at your ankles.You whined at the roughness but your whines were met with a harsh smack to your ass. Atsumu’s hands massaged the fat of your ass, spreading them and smacking your cheeks. He unzipped his pants to pull his cock free. He liked this feeling of power, having you completely naked for him, your cunt drooling for his cock.
“This what you wanted hm?” he questioned as he rubbed his cock between your folds. “Wanted me to fuck this pretty pussy huh?”
You whined at his words. 
“You know what I want” His cock prodded at your hole. He slowly dipped the tip of his cock into you. 
“I want you to scream my name while I fuck this sloppy hole” with that he pushed himself into you without warning. 
His cock plunged in and out of your hole mercilessly. You moaned his name voice barely above a whisper.Atsumu loved a good challenge, he was determined to hear you scream.
 He groaned at the feeling of you sucking him in. Your wet walls seemed to clench around him each time he pushed himself into you. Your hands grabbed at the sink as an attempt to hold yourself up. Atsumu’s hips slammed against you at a quick pace. You pushed your body up from the sink. 
“Fuck ‘tsumu feels so good”
He pushed you back down against the sink. His hand came up to your hair gripping it just enough for you to lift your head. His other hand was pressed against your back deepening your arch. 
“Yea?” he chuckled
“Scream my name” his voice was rough as he fucked you. “Let them know who’s making you feel this good.
He felt himself becoming more and more territorial as his name echoed from your mouth like a chorus. He leaned his head back, pleased from the sex and your voice . A smile spread across his face as he thought of all the possible ears pressed against the door listening to him take his claim over you. 
“Tell them” he growled “Tell them who this pussy belongs to” 
He bullied his cock so deep into you your eyes were rolling back and you began to slur his name. It was as if it was the only thing left in your vocabulary. The stretch felt so good you felt your legs growing weak. Atsumu’s hands moved down to your hips pulling you down onto his cock. 
“That’s it” his eyes watched the way your ass recoiled from the rough thrust. “Take this cock baby” he groaned.
He clawed at your skin leaving his own personal print on you. 
“ ‘Tsumu I-I’m gonna”
“Go ahead cum on my cock baby, make a fucking mess”
Your legs trembled as you reached your release. You moaned and pushed yourself back onto his cock. His grip on your hips tightened . He rocked his hips back and forth and quickened his pace. His eyes were trained on where the two of you met. He was so focused his mouth hung open with drool dripping down the side of his mouth. Your cunt felt so delicious pulling him in. 
“Mine” he growled. His thrust grew sloppier yet rougher 
“Mine” he chanted the word with each thrust.
He leaned down, biting your shoulder as his orgasm neared. 
“You’re mine” he groaned the words into your ear “Don't ever forget that”
His stilled his movements moaning your name, allowing his cum to spill inside you. Atsumu pressed his lips to your shoulder and pulled himself from you with a satisfied sigh. He watched you trying to catch your breath still leaning against the bathroom sink. You looked so pretty with his cum dripping down your thigh. Atsumu fixed his pants and pulled your skirt back up before grabbing your shirt that laid tossed on the floor. He handed you the shirt with a soft smile. You reached for it only for him to pull it back with a smirk. 
“You can go back to Suna if you want” he placed the shirt in your hand smiling at your shocked face “But don’t you dare forget whose cum is dripping down those pretty thighs of yours”
He pressed his lips against yours giving you a passionate kiss. He stood up and walked towards the door and turned around with a devilish smirk.
“And don’t try to clean up my little mess, keep it wet for me okay?” he gave you a small wave with an innocent smile “ Enjoy the party pretty”
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