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narumi-gens · 10 months

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Drunk Mind, Sober Heart

Miya Atsumu x gn!Reader

summary: They say that drunk words are sober thoughts. Unfortunately for you, that means Atsumu is about to find out about your big, embarrassing secret.

warnings: pure fluff, reader is a drunk mess, mention of vomiting and alcohol, husband!atsumu, established relationship, you and atsumu are simps for each other

notes: we’re back on the haikyuu train! I’m actually not sure if I like this but just wanted to get it out of my wips since it was already 75% written.

words: 1.2k

minors, ageless, and blank blogs do not interact

Atsumu hadn’t left you alone for long, just long enough to grab his phone charger from the nightstand. He was gone for a minute, maybe two. What could go wrong in a minute?

Apparently a lot.

You’re still in the same spot that he left you. You’re still curled up on the bathroom floor next to the toilet. You’re still clutching tightly onto the pillow he gave you to keep you from being too uncomfortable on the hard tile.

But when he left, you were completely passed out, drunkenly snoring and giving him a short break from “rubbing your back and making sure that you’re throwing up in the toilet and not on the floor” duty.

Now, you’re sobbing loudly into your pillow as you lay in a puddle of water, having knocked over the uncapped bottle he had set aside for you.

The sight instantly has him panicking, dropping his charger onto the counter and kneeling down next to you in the puddle. He picks up the bottle and sets it aside, not that doing so is much use considering most of the water is now on the bathroom floor.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he tries to gently shush you. “What’s wrong? Do ya gotta puke again?”

It seems to be the wrong question to ask because it only has you crying harder.

“Baby, it’s okay,” he assures you, running his hand soothingly up and down your side.

“S’not!” you wail and Atsumu finds himself impressed by his own sense of hearing to have been able to comprehend what you’re saying through your sobs.

“Yeah, it is. C’mon, it’s alright,” he says, still doing his best to try and talk you down. “What’s wrong? Let me help.”

“No!” you continue to protest, burying your face even further into your pillow. Your sobs have devolved into loud, pathetic hiccups. “Don’t wanna tell you. S’embarrassing…”

“Ya don’t gotta feel embarrassed!” he says. “At least ya puked in the bushes and not in the Uber. Yer ahead of me on that one.”

“No! S’not that!” you argue, looking up from your pillow to give him a pitiful glare that makes you look like an angry kitten. Atsumu is overcome with the urge to grab his phone so he can take a picture but knows that it would send you into another fit of sobs.

“Then what is it?” he asks patiently and you flop onto your back, your head resting on your pillow as you frown at the ceiling.

“M’embarrassed,” you sniffle, tears continuing to leak from your eyes.

“Baby, about what?”

Your features scrunch together unattractively before you cover your face with your hands.

“I’m so in love with you that it’s embarrassing!” you cry, your voice muffled, and Atsumu is at a loss at your…confession. It takes a moment before he knows how to respond.

“…we’ve been married fer two years,” he says slowly, his eyebrows furrowing together. “I would hope ya love me.”

“You don’t get it!” you whine, dropping your hands and doing your best to sit up and face him, although you end up needing to rest your entire weight on the toilet. “It’s like I have this huuuuge crush on you.”

He can feel the grin threatening to break out across his lips and quickly bites down on the inside of his cheek before it can. Instead, he reaches out a hand to affectionately play with the ends of your hair only for you to weakly slap him away.

“Sometimes when you send me a text saying you love me, I squeal into a pillow,” you softly tell him through sniffles, big fat tears rolling down your cheeks. “And sometimes I just look through my pictures of you and get all flustered.”

The grin he was trying so hard to hold back begins to peek through and he has to slap a hand over his mouth to hide it. Thankfully, you’re too drunk to notice.

“And it’s so embarrassing to be such a mess in front of my crush,” you pout before wiping your messy face with the back of your wrist, not that it really does any good.

“Ya don’t gotta feel embarrassed about any of it,” he repeats with a fond look. “If anything, this makes me love ya even more.”

Your expression finally seems to soften, your drunken angst beginning to fade into something much more shy.

“Really?” you ask through another sniffle.

“Yeah, I promised to love ya in sickness and in health, didn’t I?” he smiles and you giggle.

But before he can make a dumb joke about drunkenness being the worst kind of sickness out there, a look that he’s become only too familiar with over the last few hours crosses your face. You rush to turn away from him and he’s back on “rubbing your back and making sure that you’re throwing up in the toilet and not on the floor” duty.

The next morning sees you doing better, but not by much. The lights in the apartment are all off and the blinds on all of the windows are closed. The only source of light comes from the tv, which is quietly playing some trashy reality show that’s ostensibly about selling real estate but is actually about who’s sleeping with the owner of the brokerage.

The duvet from your bed is wrapped around you like a burrito as you’re laid out pathetically on the couch with a sports drink clutched tightly in your grip like a lifeline. You’re grateful that Atsumu keeps so many of them in the refrigerator and you swear to yourself that you won’t make fun of him anymore for how much space they take up.

You’re roused from wallowing over your pitiful state when you hear the front door opening and you slouch further into the couch. But when Atsumu finally appears around the corner, your face lights up as you see that he’s proudly holding up a takeout bag coated in grease stains.

“I got ya just what the doctor prescribed,” he grins and you sit up as best you can with the blanket wrapped so tightly around you.

“Oh, you’re a godsend,” you moan as you grab the bag from his hands. You open it and happily inhale the scent of the burger and fries inside.

He preens at your praise and lifts your legs so that he can sit down beside you before setting them down in his lap. You’re too busy shoveling the fries into your mouth to even care. But after a few minutes, you feel his gaze on you.

When you look up, you freeze at the sight of him watching you with big heart eyes and a wide, dopey grin.

“What?” you ask him through an unattractive mouthful of half-eaten fries.

“Nothin’,” he shrugs. However, the look on his face says anything but and your eyes narrow suspiciously. “Just, I heard from a little birdie that ya got a pretty big crush.”

Your hand pauses in mid-air, halfway to shoving another handful of fries into your already full mouth. Atsumu’s grin grows wider at your reaction.

“Y’know, I got a pretty big crush too.”

All you can do is mutter in embarrassment what he thinks is, “shut up,” but sounds like “shha amph,” as you refuse to meet his gaze and Atsumu feels his crush on you growing bigger, even as he laughs obnoxiously in your face.

#tw vomit #tw alcohol #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu fluff #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #mel writes #drunk mind sober heart

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kairismess · 5 months

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⤹˚˖♬୭ karaoke night.

🍰 genre: fluff ~ ! ✒️ word count: 969 💭 summary: sakusa has a hidden talent, which he's only willing to show off while the other three are drunk, and you're here to listen. 🍥 author's note: if y'all get my reference as to which idol that is, i will love you forever frfr

sakusa has always avoided group gatherings as much as he could, there was simply nothing enjoyable about being clumped together with a group of people he hardly called friends–associates were the correct term–and sharing the same space with then when they could potentially carry life-threatening pathogens, with or without them knowing.

what a cruel reality it was for him that only he seemed to care about proper sanitation and hygiene, seeing as how bokuto, atsumu, and hinata all just shared the same sake bottle over a round of drinking in this disgustingly compact karaoke room that had zero ventilation whatsoever.

his eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes set in a permanent glare, wherever he gazed, he always had something to criticize about its cleanliness, of course, he wouldn't even comment on the sticky table between the four of them.

unbelievable, sakusa thought to himself, as atsumu–in his slurred, drunken stupor–clutched the microphone as he chuckled, with hinata and bokuto cheering him on like his number one fans. the opening beat to the song 'baby' by justin bieber blared through the loudspeakers, and sakusa felt like he could pass away right here, right now to end the suffering; but that would be awful, because then he'd decompose with their clutter around him.

sakusa was curled up into a ball, waiting for you to come back from getting some water for the two of you (he didn't trust the water from the bar), but while you were gone, the rest of the msby jackals were just howling out the lyrics of some ear-piercing song that sakusa didn't even want to hear the end of.

when you got back, sakusa had never been more relieved in his life. he thanked you for the water and, after inspecting its contents and its container, he drank from it. you sat down next to sakusa, making the rest of the team that was terribly drunk tease you two through that dreaded microphone.

"omiomi and manager, sitting in a tree..." "K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

bokuto just spoke gibberish for the latter part of that, because he felt like vomiting due to all that alcohol. "...can we please leave?" sakusa asks you in a low voice, leaning in close to your ear. you shiver a little and turn to look at him, your nose touching his that was covered by a mask. he moved away immediately, watching as your eyes widened and your face got a little flustered. "well... we can't just leave them here, i-i mean, look at them, omi..."

sakusa took one look at this sorry bunch that was spurring up all kinds of chaos, he was honestly surprised that they hadn't started a fire yet. turning back to you with a deadpanned look, sakusa spoke in a levelled tone. "they look like shit," "see, omi? so we can't–" "all the more reason why we should leave," sakusa insisted.

"aww, c'mon, omiomi! y'fuckin' killjoy..." atsumu muttered under his breath, taking another swig from the sake bottle. "y-yeah! you haven't... sung a single song... since we got here ya... ya..." bokuto couldn't even finish his sentence, he vomited in the corner, with hinata patting his back, hiccuping, as he tried to help him through it.

"okay, i think—hic!—w-we might—hic!—need to... go home—hic!—soon..." hinata mused, which atsumu and bokuto couldn't even protest against, they were going to be so badly hungover the next morning that they'd forget their names.

"h-hey, omiomi... we'll go home..." atsumu mumbled, handing him the microphone. "...if ya sing a tune," the blonde uttered slyly. sakusa furrowed his eyebrows in disdain at his ultimatum, but he knew that this would be the most peaceful way to resolve things; he couldn't walk out that filthy door without you, you were the only one keeping him sane and put together at this point.

sakusa sighed and with a tissue paper, scrolled through the song list until he found one by an idol his cousin komori introduced him to when they were younger. it had an oddly jolly vibe to it, one you wouldn't expect sakusa to enjoy or even be familiar with in the first place.

atsumu groaned, but you and hinata were getting into the song. for the first time that evening, sakusa took off his mask to sing clearer; you had never seen sakusa that serious about something that would force him to take his mask off that wasn't volleyball.

the way sakusa sang, it was so... alluring. it was like everyone, regardless if they enjoyed the song or even knew it, would be inclined to listen to him sing. nearly everyone in the room shut their mouths and held their breaths as they listened to him sing; a siren, that's what you likened sakusa to. his voice was so captivating, he didn't sound professional, he didn't sound fake nor seasoned in terms of singing, he sounded very graceful, very emotional, in a way, when he sung.

it was just right, every note was hit perfectly with the right amount of emotion, and it felt like every word he sung, he meant it; as if those were the words that came from his own heart and out through his melodic voice.

afterwards, sakusa sighed, put on his mask, and handed the microphone back to atsumu, while you, hinata, and bokuto clapped for him. "can we please leave now?" the dark haired boy asked, turning to you. you blinked a little and stammered out a response, not realizing he was asking you. "a-ah, right, i'll start the car," you said with a slight smile, still gushing internally at how amazing sakusa's singing voice was.

you just hoped the drunken trio wouldn't harass sakusa over it, they'd be here all night now after learning their dear omiomi has a lovely singing voice.

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teamatsumu · 5 months

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was i meant to love you? (last part)

pairing: miya osamu x reader

summary: the kanji on your arm says miya atsumu’s name. but every fiber of your being is in love with his twin brother.

word count: 1501

warnings: swearing, some angst, happy ending

tags: @hadukada @utopiamiroh @angstylittleb1tch @sassycheesecake @i-have-no-life-charlie @tsukiran-blog @mommyourcall420 @ak-aaa-li @ti-mame @ellesalazar @seijaelee @hiraethwa

a/n: this is so late im so sorry writers block is a little bitch but omg this is the last part! I hope you all like it xx

previous part // series masterlist

The living room was hardly silent, between the sitcom playing on TV and Atsumu’s incredibly loud chewing, but it still felt like the air was thick and still around you. You were sure it was just you, and not Atsumu who felt this way. It likely had to do with your apprehension, trying to prepare yourself for the topic at hand. You remembered Osamu’s words, drawing confidence from his encouragement. You tried to revise in your head how to approach this, but your bravery was failing you.

How the hell were you supposed to tell your soulmate that you weren’t in love with him?

Osamu’s platonic soulmates theory didn’t sound all too convincing to you, but hearing that it came from Kita did give you some confidence. You were sure Kita would never put forth an idea that he didn’t consider to have merit. So maybe there was some weight to his words. You were still on the fence though. It all depended on what Atsumu had to say about it.

Speaking of, you watched Atsumu slurp down his ramen like it was his last meal on earth, and you could empathize with him. His routine was grueling. A lot went into being a pro athlete, much more than you could have anticipated. You almost felt bad for springing this on him after a tiring day when he was trying to wind down. But you didn’t exactly have any other opportunity for it.

You cleared your throat and shifted in place, turning so you were facing Atsumu instead of the TV. He turned to look at you, slurping up a noodle dangling from his mouth before licking his lips and giving you a look.

“I need to talk to you about something.” You fidgeted with your fingers, unable to look him in the eye. Atsumu seemed to freeze, leaning forward to place his bowl on the coffee table before facing you and giving you his full attention. Somehow that made it harder for you to get the words out. Your mouth opened and closed like a dumb goldfish. Several moments passed.

Atsumu’s hand landed on top of your own, halting the nervous movements of your fingers. You closed your eyes, feeling a sudden wave of shame wash over you.

“Just say it.” He spoke gently, as if understanding the turmoil going on in your head. You looked up at him, at the calming brown of his eyes and the soft curl of his mouth, and you felt yourself tear up.

“You don’t deserve this.” You breathed, shaking your head. “I can’t do this to you. I’m a horrible person.”

His lip ticked up in a little smile. “Ya gotta give me more than that, babe. I have no idea what yer talkin’ about.”

“I don’t-” You felt the words pour out of you like vomit. “I don’t think I love you. Not like I should. And it’s tearing me apart because I care for you so much and Osamu told me about this thing called platonic soulmates which sounds like bullshit, I know, but it explains the way I’m feeling! But sometimes I just feel like I’m a bad person and this is my way of justifying it-”

“Wait-”

“And I do love you. So much Tsumu, you’re my closest friend and you understand me so well but I don’t feel it romantically at all, which is so fucked up-”

“Hey!” You stopped short, staring at the man before you with teary eyes. You expected him to look horrified. Maybe confused. Definitely hurt. But all you saw was amusement.

“Ya gotta cool it.” He grinned, running a hand through your hair while the other squeezed yours comfortingly.

“S-sorry.” You choked out, sniffling a bit.

Atsumu sighed, staring down at your joined hands. The moment was silent except your wet sniffles, and the very low volume of the TV playing in the background. You watched as Atsumu smiled a bit.

“I’m relieved.” He spoke up, and you blinked at his words. “I always thought I was a fuckin’ asshole, ya know? ‘Cause yer so beautiful and a great person. But kissing ya was kinda painful.”

You gasped. “Hey!”

“Yer telling me the thought of layin’ a smooch on me didn’t make ya wanna barf?” Atsumu retaliated, and you fell silent, still sneering. He chuckled a bit, shaking his head.

“What did ya say it was called?”

“Platonic soulmates.”

Atsumu hummed. “Makes sense. Yer my best friend.”

You smiled at that, squeezing his hand. “And you’re mine.”

When he opened his arms, you fell into them, reveling in his embrace. Somehow, it felt ten times better than any time you had hugged him. You figured it had to do with the fact that your chronic guilt was not bothering you anymore. You buried your face in Atsumu’s neck.

“I love ya.”

“I love you, too.”

A bout of silence.

“But not like that.”

You let out a laugh. “I get it, Tsumu.”

“Just wanted ta make it clear.”

“Shut up.”

And he did. You smiled and settled into him, feeling lighter than you had in years.

……………………

When Osamu saw the look on Atsumu’s face, he immediately froze. He knew, in that instant, that you had talked to his brother. He just knew Atsumu too well to not know any change in his demeanor. And his demeanor had definitely changed. Except it wasn’t the change he was expecting.

Atsumu looked more relaxed. Happier, even? Maybe that was going too far. But then his twin was grinning up at him and settling into a stool in front of the counter, and Osamu could no longer ignore the spring in his step.

“What’s got ya so preppy?” He tested, trying not to build up his hope. Atsumu grinned.

“I just got answers ta some really old questions.” He replied, and Osamu raised an eyebrow.

“Wanna tell me what yer talkin’ about?”

And Atsumu did, sounding jovial, and with a light tone. Osamu stayed rock still as he spoke, unable to believe that Atsumu too had felt this way his whole life. He was almost shocked that he had missed such a huge part of his brother’s feelings, but it was overshadowed by the kindling of hope in his chest at the prospect that he could actually be with the girl he loved.

So when Atsumu had stopped talking, and Osamu had served him a plate of fresh Onigiri, he worked up the courage to drop another bomb on his twin. One that was arguably worse than the Platonic Soulmates one.

“Tsumu,” he began. “What do ya think about her datin’…. someone else?”

“Hm?” Atsumu looked up at his brother. “Why? She like someone?”

Osamu nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. He finally let the words leave his mouth.

“M-me.”

Atsumu stopped eating then, eyes meeting Osamu’s. Osamu felt like he was holding his breath, heart racing.

“I like her too. Uh, it’s- I’ve liked her for a while. Didn’t do anythin’ for obvious reasons, ya know.”

Atsumu sighed, turning back to his plate. He bit into another rice ball.

“What is this? Kimchi mayo? It’s real good.”

Osamu blinked, trying to fight off his incredulity in favor of staring down his brother.

“Are ya for real?”

Atsumu rolled his eyes. “Samu, ‘m not really shocked. It’s pretty obvious ya got a thing for her. And I don’t have anything with her at all, so if ya wanna date, go ahead.”

Then he gave Osamu a lopsided grin, and Osamu felt like everything in the universe had just fallen into place.

“Ya better not break her heart though. She’s still my soulmate.”

Osamu’s smile was genuine. His relief was immense. He felt almost stupid with joy at that point. And he realized he gave Atsumu far less credit than his due. His brother had just stumped him completely, and he couldn’t be more grateful.

“I won’t.”

………………….

Your and Osamu’s first kiss wasn’t anything to write home about. It was at a train station, rushed and messy, so quick that you almost didn’t feel it. It was immediately followed by a feeling of regret, panic and guilt. Something you both wanted so bad, but couldn’t have. So forbidden that it broke your heart into pieces.

Your second kiss was the exact opposite in every single way. Everything that had broken your heart seemed to mend now. Heart and stomachs both full after the wonderful date you had just been on, when Osamu finally leaned down to press his lips on yours. It felt like every fiber of your body had been pulled taut and then released, and your hands felt shaky as you finally allowed them to run over his body. His own grip was worryingly tight, arms enveloping you completely, not that you minded. You reveled in the feeling of his mouth, hoping you never stopped kissing him. Hoping he never let you go.

The kiss did end. But he never let you go.

#miya osamu x reader #osamu x reader #miya osamu fluff #miya osamu angst #miya osamu x you #miya osamu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu angst #hq angst #hq fluff #miya atsumu x reader

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noosayog · 1 year

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wc: 500

content/warnings: arguing, slamming doors, angst, cheating(?)

part 5. directory here.

"Hold on," you hear him chasing after you. You pick up the pace, sidestepping rowdy groups and the wall of Atsumu's teammates.

You’re able to get to your door, fumbling with the keys. You’re yanking the door open when he catches up.

"Just hold on one fuckin' second," he says when he grabs ahold of your arm with enough force to topple you backwards.

"What, Atsumu? Just let me go!" You're mortified to find hot tears welling up. You forcefully shake his hands off to press the heel of your palm against the offending eye.

"You're misunderstanding the situation," he starts.

"Misunderstanding?" you parrot.

"Yeah, just let me explain." He presses, stepping all up into your personal space.

"Fine then," you yell back. "Let's hear this explanation."

"We didn't, I didn't do anything."

You remain quiet, expecting more, but that's all Atsumu seems to have to say. That was the extent of his explanation. You kick yourself for even expecting anything more out of someone like him.

"So what," you grit out, lowly, slowly. "After a series of incidents in which you played no role in, you found yourself in bed, a girl sitting on your lap, making out with you? You did nothing and it all just happened?"

"Well, I-"

"Save it, Atsumu. And get the fuck off of me."

"Just hear me out-"

"I did. And you had nothing. So go away. Go away and stay the fuck away." The sheer volume and force of your words push him further from your door until it takes one final shove to push him out the door and out of your space. You slam the door and bolt every lock shut.

Outside, Atsumu slams his fist frustratedly at the door.

"Fuck!" you hear him yell.

You beeline straight to the bathroom to wipe the stupid glitter you have on your eyes, blush you have on your cheeks, and gloss you have on your lips. A sick part of you thinks that despite that whole fiasco, Atsumu never even made a comment about how you looked. You scrub harder until your cheeks and eyelids turn red, then dive straight under the covers. The tears are falling freely now and you press your face into your comforter to muffle the sobs, knowing that if they are even a decibel louder, Atsumu could probably hear them through the walls.

You can't help but replay the scene in your mind. Seeing Atsumu and someone else lock lips on his bed, the very same one he had pried some of your most closely held secrets in late night conversations on, made you sick. Did he even notice that you owned that same top that girl was wearing? The same one that he had badgered you about wearing on your official first date? The one that you mustered all your courage up to wear for him when you decided you could trust him? The mix of tears and snot stain your blanket and the sniffles become convulsions when you feel the bile rising up in your throat. You throw your covers off and run to the toilet to vomit the contents of your stomach out, wondering how it could be possible that him breaking your heart could hurt you more than when he gave you a concussion.

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tteokdoroki · 2 years

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✉️; HOW LONG IS LONG ENOUGH? - A.MIYA

💌; synopsis - the one in which atsumu miya takes too long love you like you deserve.

↳ length: 1.3K

↳ warnings: angst, no happy endings, break-ups, fake dating as a pr stunt, shitty bf!atsumu.

↳ notes: yes i just had some angst i needed to get out of my system and tsumu was the target!! word vomit, not beta’d, i hope you enjoy <3 m.list ♡

“how long, atsumu?” your voice trembles in the way that makes him sick, tired in the way that makes his heart ache for you. atsumu pushed you with this and now you’re at your wits end, there’s a hole in your heart and he’s the one that caused it. “how long do i have to sit here and pretend that it doesn’t hurt to love you like this?” this argument isn’t new to either of you, almost routine at this point but it doesn’t mean it’s any easier to deal with, that it’s smooth sailing and will end in a quick truce— the both of you hate putting yourselves through this every time.

it goes a little something like this.

the jackals play an important match that you have to sit at home to see, cheering your boyfriend on from miles away. they win, and you get to watch him crack a sweaty smile on camera without being there to congratulate him, and then he leaves the stadium— arms wrapped around someone other than you, someone with a picture perfect smile to please the paparazzi and an attitude applauded by MSBY fans across the globe. she’s someone you’re not, someone completely unspecial to you, who doesn’t know how to love like you do, but she’s perfect for your atsumu in the eyes of his management team. a fake girlfriend in place of the wonderfully ordinary you.

“it’s fer the team.” the blonde mumbles simply. he’s too tired to run through this with you again, or perhaps it's that atsumu is too shameful to admit that this little arrangement to further his career has gone too far. he has no idea why you’d stuck around for so long, by now you should have had a ring, a dog and house with a white Pickett fence instead of the bachelor pad only the best volleyball bucks can buy.

the volleyball player had promised you that fake dating this girl wouldn’t have lasted for long— he’d begged you with teary brown eyes to stay with him. it would only be for a short while, so he could make enough money from the team to pay for a place where he could treat you like a princess. it would only be temporary, then he would use his starter salary to get you that ring you’d talked about when making out in the back of class all throughout highschool or when your pinkies were linked walking home from his late night practices. he’d tell you how many kids he’d want with you, what their names would be and who they’d look like in hushed whispers when you stayed over and osamu was half asleep in the bunk beneath your boyfriend’s.

atsumu miya wanted to give you the entire world, the diamond cut ring and the big fancy wedding— he swore on his life that he’d give it to you.

he had to, after all, you’d stayed. because you loved him, because leaving him over a shitty PR stunt wasn’t worth not having the opportunity to watch atsumu live his dream. you’d told him that yourself, even as his promises turned to what-ifs and he spent more time and effort working on his fake relationship than building a life with you.

your voice, still weak, possibly from crying cut’s through the setter’s flashbulb thoughts while he strips for bed and you follow him into the bedroom. you shiver, it no longer feels warm like a home should. “so, the team more important than me? is that what you’re saying?” there’s a crack in between your words, the one just before you burst into tears, the one where you’re holding back and one word from atsumu sends your walls crashing down. he would usually be the first to drop everything , pull you into his chest and press your head close to where his heart belongs so he can bring you back— calm you down. but tonight, the blonde miya can’t bring himself to move, to hold you like he would back when the world was less complicated and it was just you, atsumu and a dream to take over Japan.

“the team— volleyball, it’s my fuckin’ life. I’d do anything to keep my life like this, fake datin’ or not!” atsumu spins on his heel to face you, ignoring the red in your eyes and the tremble of your lower lip. you look so pale, drained of love and life and it kills him to know he’s the cause. “i gave my everythin’ to make sure we could live this life together, coverin’ our asses. keepin’ you off the fuckin’ streets. if you can’t see that, then maybe, ya don’t belong in my life anymore.”

he doesn’t mean to say it, not really. but the words have already been cast into the air, hanging heavy and clinging onto the tension building in the cold room. the look on your face tells atsumu that it’s too late to backtrack, to take back his words and kiss you and tell you that this girl his managers have him set up with mean absolutely nothing to him. that he feels sick every time he has to kiss her cheek for the cameras and tell the press that everything he does in his games is for her when it’s not. when it’s you, he owes all of his successes too. but it doesn’t matter, your worst fears have now been thrown out into the air that you breathe. all by the man you love.

the man who doesn’t need you.

“baby…i didn’t—“ atsumu tries, throat dry as he swallows, not finishing before you cut him off.

“what? and she does? she knows how you like your coffee? how you pack your gym bag? how you hate the noise hotel aircon makes and the way flying makes you nervous. she knows that? she loves you like that?” you spit at him like a snake full of venom, trying your best not to lose it in front of the shell of the man you used to adore. this is not your atsumu, he is not the boy with the shitty jokes and the temperament of a toddler. he’s a product of the fame and success you only dreamed of and had scribbled down into the notebook dedicated to your English classes— his name written in a heart under the doggy ear on the corner of the first page.

and, of course she didn’t, she was just an act— a cover up by his management to hide the real relationship atsumu had, now crumbling at his feet. “‘m sorry,” he says desperately, crossing the room to get to you in three short strides, backing up when you flinch away, back hitting the wall behind you. “how do i fix this? make it up t’ya?” the blonde feels his chest tighten, hands coming up to cup your face and you look away from him like you’ve been staring at the sun too long.

like you’ve been scorned and burned by the one thing that brings you life.

“end it, tell them you don’t want a fake relationship anymore. tell them it’s over, it’s done.”

you give atsumu miya the silence to choose, to make good on all the promises he ever made you or to possibly throw away the career he now had. the one he always wanted…but he makes you wait too long, he can see the dam you’ve built breaking and the tears you were holding back stream down your face and catch on the Cupid’s bow he used to kiss.

“i’ve waited long enough tsumu, hoping— praying that you’d make the right choice, time and time again…but i’ve waited long enough.” you say, tearing yourself away from the setter.

you leave that night, with bags packed that he never noticed, alongside the pain of the broken heart you’d be stuck with the entire time— one you’d been suffering for far too long, he decides.

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rintarousgirl · 10 months

Text

i wanna be yours — 5. star treatment

✦ - Y/N is a small business owner, offering her services not only as a designer but an at-home makeup artist and cosmetic producer as well. She's perfectly content with her small life when she's approached by the manager of the INARIZAKI band, asking for her to fill the position of backstage artist on short notice. Needing the money, and wanting the experience, Y/N agrees. Little does she know of the fatal attraction she will share with the band's lead, Suna Rintarou

a/n: ik this chapter is a bit short, and that it's a bit overdue but i've been so busy LMAO. p.s i know about the typo in oikawa's post shh. anyways, i hope you all enjoy lovies!

You woke up in bed with a splitting headache, the pounding pain behind your eyes being near unbearable. A weak groan escaped your mouth as you threw a hand over your eyes to block the sun.

Thankfully, drunk you had the courtesy of leaving a glass of water and an aspirin on the bed side table. Slowly, squinting as your eyes struggled to adjust to the light, you swallowed down the aspirin and took big mouthfuls of water to ease your dry throat.

As you think to recall last night, you stand up to change out of your clothes. You're sweaty, but you notice that you are wearing a change of clothes. They're a bit baggy on you, clearly made for someone a lot taller than you were. You rub your head, trying to recall what had happened.

"You're covered in flour," Rintarou points out from his spot at the counter. You glare at him, before looking down to your soiled clothes.

"I never said I was a clean cook. The messier it is, the better it tastes."

He hums non-committedly and takes a sip from his tea. "I'll go steal some clothes from Osamu, stay here."

"Where am I supposed to go?" You huff and turn back to your pizza.

Right, you had made homemade pizza with Rintarou. So, you were now wearing Osamu's clothes. Lovely. From before that though your memory goes iffy. You struggle to remember a good amount of it, as if you'd blacked out or something. Which technically you probably had. You remember vomiting, and hanging out with Suna for the rest of the night till you were sober enough to drive yourself home.

After peeling off your clothes and showering, you head back into your room. Your studio apartment was small, which meant you had communal washing and drying. You'd make sure to wash Osamu's clothes as quickly as possible.

Picking up your phone, your eyes widen at the surplus of notifications. You had over thirty text messages, and over thirty thousand notifications from twitter. You could get used to a lot of twitter notifications with your business, but all that in one night seemed impossible to you.

With slightly trembling hands, you opened twitter, feeling a pit grow in your stomach as you scrolled through your notifications.

Despite all the negative posts from fans, you find yourself smiling at the pictures from last night. After making pizza, you and Rintarou had joined the others, dancing and playing games until everyone was either black out drunk or exhausted. You also remember doing karaoke with Yachi, laughing at the video of the two of you that Atsumu had posted.

Exiting twitter, you switch to your messaging app. You notice a few short messages between you and Rintarou, and that you'd gotten Yachi and Osamu's numbers in your phone at one point. Instead, you look at the texts from your friends.

Sighing, you gnaw on your lip. You send a quick to Kenma, Bokuto, and Kuroo assuring them that you were okay and that you'd explain later before pressing on the call button.

It rings only once before Akaashi picks up. "Y/N? Are you alright?" are the first words out of his mouth, and you swallow softly with a sigh. You collapse back down on your bed, rubbing at your eyes.

"I'm alright, 'Kash. Don't worry."

He huffs. "You could've told me that last night."

"I know, I'm really sorry. I, uh, I went to an after party and I got a bit drunk."

That quiets him a bit. "You never get drunk. Not really at least."

"I know," you groan, feeling a bit more regret seep into you. "I was being stupid, okay? I'm sorry I didn't text you or anything. I know you worry a lot."

"It's alright. You're an adult, Y/N. I just...I wouldn't want you to get hurt when I could've done something about it."

"Well, don't worry. I don't plan on doing that again anytime soon. I mean...I embarrassed myself plenty."

There's a teasing tone to Akaashi's next words. "I saw. Kuroo went crazy when he found out you were working for INARIZAKI. I managed to convince him not to harass you about it though. You puked on him, huh?"

"Thanks," you say dryly, "but don't remind me." You drag a hang down your face, shame burning on your cheeks. "It was so bad. But technically, I puked in the bowl so not on him."

"That's still bad."

"I'm going to hang up on you. Why can't we talk about like...I don't know, the pizza or something."

Akaashi laughs, and you find yourself smiling despite it all. "Whatever let's talk about your adventures in person. Favorite cafe at three?"

You hum. "Favorite cafe at three," you confirm.

As you're getting ready, your phone dings with a text message. Absent-mindedly you pick it up and open it.

<- previous | next -> | masterlist

★ - suna was not very chill when he sent that text. he was on the other side of the screen acting like a nervous wreck

★ - osamu's the smaller twin compared to atsumu seeing as atsumu still did have his vb career, just not as long. that's why his clothes aren't completely baggy on y/n (and are what she's wearing in the photo on suna's twt)

★ - akaashi spent most of the night awake waiting for you to text him till bokuto eventually convinced him to sleep for at least a few hours

taglist:

@mannaornot \ @gojoscumslut \ @sunarots \ @alienvarmint \ @tojirin \ @tkooooop \ @cheriesdear \ @shotenvinsoot \ @wolffmaiden \ @riiceandsoup \ @thebrownemo \ @vivian-555 \ @effmigentlywithachainsaw \ @rukia-uchiha-98 \ @weird0o0 \ @seiamor \ @rory-cakes \ @blue-violin \ @reveusecherie \ @hellokittylover9 \ @yourlocal-bunny \ @keniza \ @cerberuspuppy1 \ @baramii \ @kirbyscreeper

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bokutosmochi · 2 years

Text

GOOD BOY

what's it? smut

allergen warning/s? fem!reader [no pronouns mentioned], contains seperate drabbles with reader being dom + sub, cervix kissing, name-calling, manhandling, unprotected sex, oral-fixation

sugar level? 0.8k

names for the orders? suna rintaro, tendo satori, tsukishima kei, bokuto kotaro, miya atsumu, semi eita

regulars? @hanayanetwork

he groans freely as he buries himself to the hilt inside of you, eyes clenched. it's been so long since the two of you have fucked, the week's been busy for him and he wasn't able to spend as much time with you as he wanted, but now that he's here, he wants to make it up to you in more ways than one -- not just with his cock originally, but with the way you jumped into his arms and pulled him in for a kiss that's all teeth and tongue the moment he walked through the front door, he thinks that bullying his fat cock into your aching cunt is one hell of a way to get reacquainted with each other.

slowly, he starts to build up a rhythm. it's nice and familiar, but there's also something hidden there that wasn't always present and it's the longing and the neediness you always you was buried deep inside him ready to implode at any moment.

he fucks you like an animal, his strokes are deep and rough - you can feel the pink tip of his cock brushing against your cervix every time - and panting wildly into your ear. the sound is laced with soft moans coming from both you and him. but then, he grabs your left leg and hooks it over his hip, giving him another angle to fuck you in and it sends your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your hand to grab firm tuffs of his hair. "ah! fuck! good boy! t-that's a good boy." you say it without much care in the world, partially because you don't even recognize the words that just passed through your lips, too busy with the feeling of his cock in your walls. you can feel every single inch of him, and every single pulsing vein that decorates it.

he tenses up before a low growl comes from him.

you've been with this man for a very long time, but you've never seen him react like this, ever. and you've never heard that sound from him either. needless to say, you were equally confused, concerned, and aroused by the deep raspy sound. you don't have much time to think about the things it does to your body though.

the next thing you knew, he has flipped you on your tummy and pulled you up so you'd be on your hands and knees. a heavy hand rests on the back of your head and he applies more pressure on it, shoving your face into the bed as his hand travels down to your neck, holding you there in place. your back is arched perfectly, pussy fully exposed to him so he can do what he pleases with your tight hole. he leans down so his mouth is right next to the shell of your ear the same time he grinds his cock on your weeping cunt making you moan and attempt to clench your thighs together to no avail. "by good boy you better not be thinking i'm being submissive." the sensation, the whisper of his voice on your throat makes you shiver and your pussy pathetically tighten around nothing. he sees this and chuckles, running a finger through your folds and thrusting all the way in. "gonna fuck you dumb for that all night low, brat."

suna, TENDO, tsukishima

he tenses up before a whimper comes from him and his thrusts ceases.

you didn't really noticed what you've said earlier, but now, you're so glad for them though they were for word vomit, if anything. they were still true, spur of the moment thoughts. you cupped his cheek gently, relishing in the way he nuzzled into it and let out a low hum in response. his eyes fluttered shut and a tiny smile graced his face. "you like being called a good boy, baby?" he only let out a small mhmm as confirmation making you chuckle at his current state. this is the first time you've seen him submissive in the bedroom so it was new to you, but you certainly weren't complaining. "c'mon pretty boy, i want you to use your words." you said, running a hand through his hair making the smile on his face grow wider.

his eyelids flutter and in a blink, he's looking down at you with bright eyes. they look like they have stars in them from the way they gaze down at your form. "yeah, i like being called a good boy." a blush covers his cheeks and you think it's the prettiest thing you've ever seen.

you smirk and flip the two of you over. "that's so cute," you run your thumb over his bottom lip, cooing when he sucks it into his mouth. "be a good boy for me then, and i'll give you anything you want."

bokuto, ATSUMU, semi

i get: reblog

you get: a collar

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a-kaash-me-outside · 1 year

Text

the walls are thin - ch8.5

in which atsumu is your college neighbor that reminds you how in love you are with your ex boyfriend. previous | ch8.5 [masterlist]

// carefully attentive, the same person he’s always been ~ ᴍᴀᴋɪ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ~ 5517 ᴡᴏʀᴅs

a look into this chapter: 18+ minors dni omg maki smut, pet names (maki calls you puppy oops), confessions, last chapter hey!, oral f!receive, face sitting, soft fucking, fucking with feelings, afab she/her pronouns

join my taglist here!! ~~ (only a 12k epilogue left that does not follow this path) ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

(don't read this until you've read the beginning of ch8! this is a continuation <3 you'll know when to come back over)

before you can send a joke back his way, atsumu rolls onto his back, a large puff of air exhaled from his lungs as he does so. he smooths his palms over his face, fingers parting his own hair, eyes squeezed shut as he exhales again into his hands. “god, you make me feel like-,” he takes another breath, sitting up this time. you get a good look at his back from this angle and if the words he were saying weren’t so important, you’d interrupt him by kissing the toned muscle all over.

“like-,” he pauses, shaking his head, turning his neck, twisting his back to face you, “i don’t even know. i can’t even describe how you make me feel.” he narrows his eyes at you like he’s thinking of the most difficult math problem and trying to solve it in his head. “i know that sounds cheesy, i know it does, but i’m serious, i’ve never felt like this before.”

you sit up with him, his face morphs into realization, a tiny moment in time that causes your heart to start beating ferociously. it looks effortlessly difficult, a long road to get there, figuring out his feelings in real time, and yet it doesn’t come out like a question. “i love you.”

your stomach drops. you can’t breathe. “you love me?” you ask.

even without instant reciprocation, he doesn’t show an ounce of regret, not a single one. in fact, he replies quickly, even more assured this time, “i do.”

you really can’t breathe, can’t catch a good breath, it feels like you’re suffocating. the air is thick, tongue like cotton in your mouth, and he sees your adverse reaction to this and all he wants to do is make it better. “you don’t have to say anything,” he offers back, reaching his arm out and resting his touch on your elbow. he curls his fingers around your skin, but you can’t really feel it amidst the tingling taking over your entire body.

he continues on, “i just wanted to tell you because i’ve never met anyone like you. i haven’t been able to stop thinking about you and i’m a better person for having known you, so thank you.” you’re still not saying anything back to you, so he just keeps talking, reasoning slowly shifting from confidence to doubt. “i just don’t think i’ve ever met someone who’s gotten along so well with my friends and my brother or someone i’ve ever really even let do those things, because i’ve just been in my own head or maybe because i haven’t found the right person.”

you need him to stop talking, to give you a second, just one second for a thought to pop into your head to communicate what you’re feeling, but he just keeps talking. he’s great. he’s perfect. this is exactly what you were afraid of.

it comes out like vomit. “i think i’m still in love with maki.”

even after it’s left your mouth, you can’t believe you said it. the entire room is silent. you can’t even hear him breathing, can’t hear the fan or the birds or the hum of the fluorescent lights. this entire time, each waking minute you’ve spent in this bed, something’s felt uneasy, there was this underlying confusion that you couldn’t shake, and now that you’ve said this impossibly difficult thing out loud, you no longer feel confused.

instead, it’s transferred over to atsumu, you can see it in his face. you’re expecting betrayal. you can handle a look of treachery, of anger, of mistake, but none of that ever comes. his eyebrows are furrowed and he can’t look you in the eye, only steals glances as often as his body will allow. you should explain, you know you should explain, but how do you explain that the only thing that’s made you realize your feelings for maki were the kiss that you shared and having sex with someone else for the first time.

“i wish that maybe you would’ve told me that before last night,” he says, swinging his legs off of the bed and standing up, grabbing pieces of clothing that are strewn across the room, yours, his, his, his, yours, yours, his. he throws yours onto the bed, puts his on quickly.

“come on,” you say, voice small, “you’ve had plenty of one night stands. i’m just another one of ‘em.” your hands move slowly as you put on your clothes.

“you know that that’s not all you were to me,” he says, voice cold, breaking at the end, “is that all i was to you?”

“atsumu,” you say, but his name doesn’t feel right on your tongue anymore, not to either of you. his shoulders slump, air expelled from his lungs, fingers comb through his own hair, pausing at the top of his head as he tries to figure out what to do next. “do you want to talk about it?” you ask, wincing at your own question.

“there’s not really much to say,” he replies, offering nothing more.

it’s silent. you count the seconds, starting over every time you hit 60 until you can’t take it any longer. “should i leave?” you ask. he winces this time, maybe part of him thought you would follow up with something along the lines of but i want to make it work with you or i’m just kidding i love you too.

“fuck, i can’t believe this,” he says, shaking his head, “oh my god, i can’t believe this.” he puts his head in his hands, leaning on his desk as he rubs the heels of his palm into his eyes. he reaches down and grips the edge of the desk. he couldn’t look at you the entire time, even still it takes everything in him to raise his gaze to you, and fuck, you wish he hadn’t. “i let you meet my fucking brother.” his tone isn’t angry, isn’t pointed. it’s defeated. he inhales, throws his head back, exhales. “you should probably go.”

you know that you’re the one that suggested it just a moment ago, but the thought of it is making you sick, of walking out that door. you know there’s no turning back from it. you will have a few more weeks of sharing a wall and then your life will continue on without atsumu. you stand up, a few painful strides to the door. he walks behind you, reaches past you, opens the door for you.

“fuck,” he says, much softer this time, soft enough that you might have even regretted the past couple minutes, “why couldn’t i have met you freshman year?” he asks. it’s not a question either of you can answer. he’s not expecting an answer anyway, not sure he would accept one if he was.

“i don’t know if you would’ve liked me freshman year,” you admit.

“i would’ve liked you,” he says as sure as up is up and down is down, “any time. no matter what. i’m sure of it.” it would have been easier if he wasn’t. you step out into the hallway.

“i’ll see you around,” you say.

“probably not,” he says.

you take one last look at his door, at the miya atsumu written across it. the name no longer unfamiliar, person no longer unfamiliar, no longer a distinction, no longer a vastly different side of a person you know. no, now not a side at all, but just a part of a person you used to know. this is exactly what you were afraid of.

/++/

“it’s before noon on a fucking sunday, you better have a good reason-,” the complaining comes before the door is even open. you can hear it clear as day even before there’s a tiny crack letting the sound through. your skin hasn’t stopped tingling, face hasn’t stopped burning. your body has been moving on autopilot since you left atsumu’s room, even through showering, putting on clean clothes, navigating here.

and yet, the second that he opens the door, it’s all you, no automation, direct, meaningful, purposeful movement and thought.

there’s nothing stopping you, nothing could stop you. you take two steps forward. if it were anybody other than maki, it would have been weird, awkward, clumsy as you collide with him, foot half stepping on his, almost tripping into him, but he holds you steady as if he anticipated this. you push your lips into his, taking another few steps forward and in from the hallway. he lets the door close softly behind you, wraps one arm around your waist and pulls you in deeper. he doesn’t ask any questions, doesn’t try to pull away, just kisses you for the second time this week, savors every second of it as if it will be his last. he knows better now.

you really hope that when you pull away, he won’t ask any questions. you hope that you’re good enough at communicating everything through this kiss and the touch on his hips. his eyes are wide when you eventually do pull away and you know that there’s a question coming. you’re already figuring out an answer in your head.

“what if issei answered the door?” he asks, head tilted, shaky breath the only sign that he was caught off guard.

“shut up,” you say, quiet smirk forming as you press your smile into his again.

you snake your arms around his neck, clasp them overtop of one another, pulling yourself into him deeper, holding onto him tight, you can’t get close enough. he runs his hands down your sides, leans backwards to signal that he can support you completely. even after all of this time, you know what that means. you jump into his arms, bracing yourself as he walks backwards to his room. he doesn’t have to ask or motion, you open his door, and when he turns around and puts your back against the door to close it, you lock it.

he pulls away this time. “are you going to tell me what got into you now?” he asks.

you shake your head, leaning forward and closing the gap, eyes closing gently at how soft his lips are, at how comforting it is to be in his familiar arms again. you’ve missed this so much, more than you could have known.

he pulls away once more. you wish he would stop doing that. you don’t want to stop kissing him. you want to kiss him for hours. “do i at least get to know if this is a one time thing?” he asks.

“i hope not,” you reply. it answers a lot more than just that one question. you move to kiss him again, but he starts speaking against your lips, desperate for answers.

“okay and-,” he starts.

it makes so much sense to you, all laid out in your head. the kisses, the grip, the familiarity, the need. it’s hard to take yourself out of your own head, to realize that he’s been caught so off guard with this and is taking it pretty much in stride. still, you huff because explaining means that you don’t get to kiss maki and it means that you have to admit something very difficult.

you pull back completely, arms still draped around his neck. “i haven’t been able to stop thinking about that kiss, about what you said, about thinking we’d get back together or just keep going with what we were doing forever; i want that.” the end of your explanation comes out in one long sentence, mashed together just as it was in your head. “‘m still in love with you, maki.” there’s no i think this time.

he closes the gap this time, doesn’t need to hear another word, tilting his head to kiss you deeper, quickly pulling you away from his door and walking you over to his bed.

“wait, wait,” you say against his lips as he sits down on the bed, gently letting your knees sink into the mattress.

“god, no, yea, that is annoying,” he says the second your lips are off of his.

you roll your eyes dramatically, shaking your head the tiniest bit, a tiny smile on your face, “are you- is that-,” it’s not coming out right, your chest rising and falling as the question struggles to form in your head, “do you want that? is that okay?”

“are you asking if i’m in love with you?” he asks.

you nod, grateful for his ability to understand you so well even when you’re not making any sense at all, eyes darting back and forth between his trying to find an ounce of an answer before it comes from his lips. “of course i am,” he says plainly, confused that it’s even a question, “i never stopped, you know that.”

you push forward into his chest and he moves back with you until his back collides with the bed. the two of you always moved like this, in time with one another, thoughtless and in sync in a way you only get to if you’ve known each other for years. you clasp your hands at the base of his neck, pulling him into you as you kiss him deeper, parting your lips to swipe your tongue across his bottom lip.

this time, he doesn’t pull away, accepts the invitation thoughtlessly, tongue entering your mouth, and it’s like something snaps in you. you got to kiss him not long ago, get to touch him and hold his hand and sleep in his bed, but now you get to taste him, for the first time in too long. your fingers close around nothing, scraping against his skin and you know it’ll make him shiver, and it does. you feel the shudder all throughout your body.

you can’t stop, tongue slipping against his, scraping over his teeth and cheeks, you can’t get enough. you never want to stop kissing him. you missed the way he feels in your mouth, his sweet, familiar taste. you smooth your hand around his neck, down his chest, grabbing a fistful of his shirt, pressing your lips into his harder.

his hands are roaming, in your hair, down your back, gripped into your waist, sculpting over your ass, settling on the backs of your thighs, rocking you against him. he grinds up into you, hard against the inside of your leg, evidently just as turned on by this previously forgotten sensation. you’re the first one to pull away, and he lets you, actually welcomes this tiny moment to catch his breath, to just look at you.

“i,” huff, “really missed you, maki,” you say and then lean back down and give him another quick peck, “like a lot,” kiss, huff, “wish you would’ve just taken me back to your room that night.”

you kiss him again. a smile grows against your lips and then a laugh comes along with it, light at first and then he can’t stop. you pull back. “maybe this was my plan all along.”

“oh, really?” you ask jokingly, tilting your head.

“nah,” he says, lifting his head up, lips pursed but they don’t meet yours. instead, he places a soft kiss on your nose. “i just wanted to make sure that you really wanted this.” one hand stays on the underside of your thigh, takes your hand in his other, keeps them both pressed against his heart. “not just in the moment, but really wanted this. just as much as me.” ba-bump.

“and is this proof enough?” you ask, trying to swallow your giddy giggles. he narrows his eyes at you, quirks an eyebrow, he doesn’t even have to say it, you can read it loud and clear. duh, obviously. he pulls you back down.

“plus, now it’ll be even sweeter,” he says, pressing his nose into your neck, dragging his wet lips against the skin. he runs the flat of his tongue from your chest up your neck and repeats the motion, starting point getting lower and lower every time until he’s met with the fabric of your t-shirt. it’s quickly thrown to the side, one motion, as he sits up, his face situated perfectly between your tits.

“maki,” you breathe, blushing as he uses his large hands to surround himself with your tits, palms rough against your hardening nipples, placing small kisses against your sternum, right against your heartbeat.

“missed these,” he says, sound muffled like he’s talking into a pillow, vibrations sending a wave of goosebumps across your delicate, now bare skin.

“maki,” you say again, more embarrassed this time, but he knows you better than to stop at this little fit of self-consciousness. in fact, he doubles down.

“could sit here like this all night, puppy,” he mumbles, but you can hear it so clearly, rolling your hips, chewing on your lip.

“maki,” you repeat for the third time, reaching your arm up, hiding behind the crook of your elbow.

he pulls away, hands continuing to knead into your soft tits as he gets a good look at you. “don’t get all embarrassed on me, now. it’s just me,” he says, reaching up and pulling your arm down from your face, placing both of your hands on his hips. you let him. you take a breath. it’s just him. you nod, keeping your hands on his hips, gripping them into the shallow valley of the bone. “good,” he smirks, runs his hands down your sides, right back to the backs of your thighs, tugging you towards him.

the pressure builds, grip pulling and pulling until you slide up to his stomach and then his chest, but he just keeps coaxing you forward. you look down at him, questioning, and he throws you back a devilish grin, turning his head to the side to press a kiss into your knee. “are you going to come sit on my face or what?” he asks, nipping at your skin when you jump at the question.

“maki!”

“come on, you’ve made me wait long enough,” he says, turning his head the other way and placing a kiss into the opposite knee. “you know i’ve been thinking about it since you got on top of me.”

“then take it,” you breathe. fuck, he missed that.

you use the wall to steady yourself as he pulls your shorts and your panties off. he places both of his hands on the insides of your thighs, pushes your legs apart. your stomach refuses to settle, flipping over and over as you stare at him so intently, just waiting for his next move. he moves you forward again by your hips this time, lifting you just high enough for your lips to drag against his hanging tongue.

“fuck,” you say, nails curling against the drywall, forehead gently resting against the surface.

he digs his fingertips into you, pulls you harshly onto his tongue, into his face. he loves being suffocated by you, always has. once he nearly passed out, too drunk on your taste and the sounds that you made to care about staying conscious. breathing came second to your pleasure. that’s why he was so fucking good at it. “god, fuck, maki.” the back of your head meets the top of your spine, chin pointed towards the ceiling, eyes squeezed shut as he presses the tip of his tongue into your hole repeatedly.

his hands pull your cunt into his mouth harder, positioned on your lower back, gripping into your ass as he rocks you back and forth on his tongue, juices flowing down the sides of his cheeks and chin. the sounds are so lewd, squelching and slurping, moaning into your pussy as he devours you.

“gonna- gonna come,” you announce, rolling your hips in time with his tongue. his teeth scrape against your clit, lips close around your folds, tongue prods at your tight hole. his arm has to reach as he presses his palm against your stomach, follows the center of your chest up to your neck and wraps his long fingers around it. the grip is weak, more focused on the repetitive motions to drive you to your orgasm, but just the small amount of pressure is enough to throw you over the edge. you squeeze your thighs together as you come, waves of pleasure rolling over your body, legs shaking. you move your hand instinctively to the top of his, squeezing around your throat, eyes shut tightly.

“holy fuck,” you say, using all of your strength to push yourself up and off of his face, to give him a breather. he gasps for air, taking in a huge breath and exhaling quickly. he repeats this six times. you count it to ground yourself.

“m not done,” he says, pulling you back down. you almost lose your balance, but he holds you strong. it’s more desperate this time, hungrier, needier, not like he’s got something to prove, but just because he’s enjoying it that much. you're sensitive from your last orgasm, from your clit being attacked again so soon, rolling it between his teeth, capturing it between his wet lips.

“you should,” huff, “you should not be so fucking good at this,” you say, shaking your head even though he definitely cannot see you. you barely know if he can hear you.

you’re already putty on his tongue, but that’s not enough for him. he’s got to reduce you to a pile of nothing and you’re surely on your way, circling your hips on his tongue, second orgasm taking you by surprise. you’re not positive that you can even sit up off of him this time, moving to slide back instead. he doesn’t let you, hands securely holding you in place, he doesn’t get to take another breath, like he’s challenging you or himself, you’re not really sure.

“maki,” you whine, eyes opening for the first time since your last orgasm, looking down between your legs to see his eyes blissfully closed, nose nuzzling against your clit, face sheened and messy. you thread your fingers into his hair, shoving his tongue deeper into your cunt, because he’s not going to stop until he’s made you come again and you’re not sure how much more of this you can take and he hasn’t even been inside of you yet.

your third orgasm ruins you. you can’t even sit upright by yourself, so many forceful orgasms running over you in succession. maki’s hands and your brace on the wall are the only things that are keeping you from forgoing everything and falling onto the bed. if you didn’t say your next words, broken and whimpering, you’re certain he would have kept going. “maki, need you, please,” you say, legs like fucking jello.

he slides you back, wet cunt dragging across his chest and stomach as he tries to compose himself. his breath is unsteady, heavy, face completely a mess, tongue swiping over his bottom lip trying to get all of your juices in his mouth, down his throat. “you’ll have me,” he breathes, sitting up, flipping you over so that you’re on your back and you’re still amazed at how he has so much strength left after something like that.

“now, please, now,” you say, reaching down and placing your fingertips into the waistband of his boxers. you don’t pull them off completely, already moving your fingers to the hem of his shirt, pushing the fabric up so that you can see his stomach, hand slipping under it to feel his chest, heartbeat violent against your palm. “hiro, now, please,”

“come on, you know that’s not fair,” he says, shaking his head, following your movements, taking off his shirt, “been years since you’ve called me that.”

you slip your fingers into his waistband again, pulling him towards you, “been years since you called me puppy, think we’re even now.”

he hooks both arms under your knees, pulling you towards him until the backs of your thighs are resting against the tops of his. he reaches into his boxers, pulls himself out, hissing at his own touch against his painfully hard cock. “you gonna ask for my cock again?” he questions, hips rocking forward just far enough for his head to slip against your clit.

“want you,” you whine, “hiro, please, missed this so much.”

he presses inside of you, precome leaking against your walls as he stuffs every fucking inch into your sensitive pussy. it’s so much, perfectly thick and long, fits so perfectly inside of you. there’s a dull stretch that you want to feel forever as the tip of his cock hits the back of your walls. “fuck, holy fuck,” you mutter, linking your hands behind his neck and pulling him into you, your shoulder against his chest, nose nuzzled into his collarbone. “shit i missed this.”

he lets you hold him close, lifts his hips to pull out of you and fucks back into you slowly as you cling to him. you speak into his neck, “need you, need this, more, fuck, you’re mine, are you mine, baby? fuck, tell me you’re mine,” you babble.

he pulls away from you, almost regrettably so as he sees the desperation in your eyes, but he rests on his forearm, smoothing his palm over the side of your face, cupping your cheek and stroking your jaw. “i’m yours, i promise. all yours,” he says incessantly, carefully attentive, the same person he’s always been.

you roll your hips, lifting to meet his slow thrusts, circling and shaking arrhythmically. you need more of him, more of him. you run your hands through his hair. he holds you steady. “it’s okay, i know, fuck,” he says, starting to pick up the pace. your eyes shut quickly, already almost there for what feels like the millionth time tonight.

“gonna come on your cock, you’re gonna make me come all over your cock, maki, please,” you mumble, nodding your head against his shoulder.

“already puppy?” he asks, snapping his hips into you hard.

you’re gone, whimpering and whining and crying as you tighten around his cock, fingers digging into his shoulders, lifting your hips off of the bed to fuck yourself on his cock harder, riding through your orgasm, walls clenching around his fat cock as you thank him over and over for making you come again.

when it subsides, his pace slows back down again, rolling his hips leisurely, just enjoying how pretty your cunt looks sucking him in, how your wetness clings to his cock as it pulls out and how it gathers around your entrance as he pushes in. his breath is shaky, grip the same.

“you are not allowed to make fun of me for not lasting,” he groans, “because fuck this is all i’ve been wanting since the last time we hooked up.”

you laugh, breathy and spent. “when even was that?” you ask, eyes closing as the tip of his cock brushes knowingly against your spot.

“god, i don’t know,” he presses a kiss into the side of your face, rhythm unwavering, “over a year.”

“why did we stop?”

“stupid,” he says, breathing labored, “because we’re fucking stupid.”

he pulls out of you, flips you over, his thick cock slipping between your plush thighs. he uses both hands to spread your ass, breath stuttering, cock throbbing as he sees your puffy lips from between the fats of your thighs. “because we could’ve been doing this the entire time.” he digs his fingers into your ass, watches how your skin ripples when he smacks it so lightly, “could’ve seen this fucking sight,” he smacks it again, “this entire fucking time.”

he slips inside of you again, fucking you from behind, underside of his cock relentless against your spot as he starts to fuck you faster and faster. “you don’t have to hold back, y’know,” you breathe, arching your back, hips lifting just enough to make your cunt that much more snug, the angle making maki see fucking stars. he grips into your ass. “you don’t have to savor it. we have plenty of time for that.”

he tries to hold off as long as he can, really, he does, but he hasn’t been inside of you for over a year and despite how much he’s thought about it, he’s truly forgotten how good you actually feel, how tight you are around him, how thick your thighs are, how well he could make you come, how creamy you made his cock.

“promise?” he asks, slamming into you, cock throbbing, hanging on to your every word.

“i promise,” you say, your voice sweet. “please come for me.”

“shit,” he says, hips stuttering. he wants to give you everything you want and more and he’s already so close, it’s a miracle he didn’t unload inside of you right then. “where?” he asks, closing his eyes for just a second, tearing his eyes away from your sloppy cunt swallowing his cock for just a moment, butterflies filling his stomach, because he knows you and he knows exactly where you want his load.

“inside, maki,” you whine.

he presses his hips full against your ass, shoots his load as deep inside of you as he can, letting your quivering walls massage his cock. all he needs are your pretty, snug walls surrounding him and he’s dumping his load into that perfect pussy, stream after stream coating your insides.

it takes him longer to recover from this than he did from almost suffocating between your legs. “can i pull out now, puppy?” he asks, curling his fingers against your skin. you nod, so grateful that he’s asked and prepared you for feeling empty. he’s slow to pull out, lets you feel each inch dragging against your creamy walls until they’re clenching around nothing.

he flops to the side of you, one arm snaking underneath you, one arm overtop. he pulls you closer, kisses your shoulder. you turn to face him and before he can say a single word, you have to admit to him everything that happened with atsumu, how everything went down. your heart is beating wildly and you don’t exactly know how to say it, how you came to this realization. you don’t know what he’s going to say or how he’s going to react, but you have to lay it all out there.

“atsumu and i-,” you start explaining.

“doesn’t matter,” maki says, cutting you off, “i don’t need to know. whatever happened between you guys, that was before. but from now on…,” he trails off, let’s you fill in the sentence.

“it’s us,” you say, quickly.

“kinda always has been, huh?” he asks, but it’s not really a question.

“it was always supposed to be you, maki,” you answer, though it’s not really a question, “from day one.”

“so does this mean you’re my girlfriend again?” he asks, head tilting, inching closer to you until his forehead is resting against yours. you lean forward, pressing a kiss into the side of his cheek.

“that’s a weird way to ask me to be your girlfriend,” you joke.

“will you be my girlfriend?” he asks, not hesitating for a second.

“do you even have to ask?” you smirk.

he instantly jumps at you, caging you in beneath him and kissing your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, all over your face, your chin, your lips. it starts as a giggle, grows to a laugh, and before you know it, you can’t breathe. “maki!” you whine, playfully pushing at his chest as he kisses down your jaw and the side of your neck.

“i can’t hear you,” he pretends, shaking his head, wrapping his arms under your lower back to bring you closer to his kisses.

“maki!” you scream again, laughing even harder as you try to squirm out of his grasp. “stop it!”

“then answer me,” he says, not letting up until you give him a real answer for his rhetorical question.

“yes! yes! yes! okay! yes, of course, i’ll be your girlfriend,” you yell, grabbing both sides of his face in your hands and pulling his face to yours, kissing him softly at first and then deep, hard, tangling your fingers into the back of his hair and relaxing into his touch.

there’s a banging on the wall next to the bed so violent that you can feel the mattress shake. “please, shut the fuck up,” you hear issei shout through the wall. your face is instantly burning. this isn’t something that hasn’t happened before. you were aware of how thin the walls were. maki and you used to get into trouble like this plenty of times when you were together. this is just another one of those times, you suppose.

“hopefully when we move into an apartment somewhere, the walls will be a bit thicker, yea?” he asks, voice a bit quieter, not skipping a beat, not feeling embarrassed when the assumption leaves his mouth. why would he? you nod, smiling bright.

“perfect,” you mumble, kissing him once more, “really perfect.”

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halamir-heartsawakened · 2 months

Text

no, wait, listen.... i was in my pilates class when suddenly something came to my mind.

Get this, college volleyball player Kiyoomi gets injured (lightly, nothing super bad) in a match. Motoya, his lovingly pro player cousin, suggests he starts pilates to help with the recovery and recommends where to go.

On the other hand we have Atsumu, who likes to visit the local gym and chat with the pilates instructor. Seeing that he’s interested, she starts teaching him and before everyone knows it, he’s taking care of clases when she can't! Atsumu LOVES to talk and gossip with the ladies, as if they were his own aunties♡

Well, kiyoomi isn't really thrilled to go if he’s being honest, but anything that would help him get back to training is worth trying. So imagine his surprise when he arrives at the class just to see the hottest and most annoying man on earth welcoming him with a million watt smile.

Oh boy, it sure is gonna be a loooong class

word vomit but!!! someone!!! pls!!! someone write this AU!!!!!

#haikyuu!!#miya atsumu #sakusa kiyoomi #sakuatsu #pilates instructor atsumu #college student kyoomi #aaaa this came out of nowhere #pls idkh to write help

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kitas-cleaning-supplies · 9 days

Text

Atsumu watches Kiyoomi wear a hole into their floor. It’s been about five minutes now since he started fiddling with his phone, to tidying up their already neat apartment, and now finally just pacing back and forth.

“You okay babe?” he asks, knowing full well it’ll only piss Kiyoomi off. But, well, Atsumu’s never been good at not poking a sleeping bear. Or a worked up one in this case.

So of course, of all things he could have said, this is the one that gets Kiyoomi to stop moving and glare a shut up at him. “What do you think, Miya.”

Which, rude, Atsumu hasn’t been Miya to him in a long time but whatever. The sarcastic drawl in his voice is honestly worse. Someone’s been spending a bit too much time with Suna and now Atsumu’s juggling conflicted feelings of elation and dread. And Atsumu doesn’t even know how to juggle.

“You know you can talk to me?” Atsumu tries. He also tries to not think about how cheesy that line was, and keep his vomit down his throat.

“And what movie did you rip that off of?” Kiyoomi bites back, taking to running his hands through his hair and tugging them a bit.

Atsumu tsks, “Alright bitch, ya can’t stop fucking shakin’. So do somethin’ about it before I make ya.”

Somehow that’s what gets him to raise an amused eyebrow. Which. Oh.

It probably doesn’t help that, at some point, Atsumu’s made his way over to stand in Kiyoomi’s face. What can he say? The guy’s good at getting his temper running. And Atsumu likes the view, annoying as it is.

“Not like that ya shithead, we gotta be outta here in like, 10 minutes.”

“Shame.” Kiyoomi shrugs, like there’s a world out there where he’d agree to messing around before something so important.

Atsumu rolls his eyes at Kiyoomi’s bullshit and cuts to the heart of it all. Ew, direct communication. He doesn’t think he’d do this for anyone else. Kiyoomi should count his lucky stars. Yuck.

“Do you not want this?” he asks, gently holding Kiyoomi’s hands in his own. Atsumu would like to say it’s to comfort him, but he can’t deny he likes the warm weight of them. Any excuse is a good excuse if this is his reward.

“I do.”

“Then stop bein’ a pussy about it. What’s gotcha so worried.” And it’s not a question.

Just as surely, Kiyoomi answers, “What if I fuck up?”

“Then we fuck up together, that’s all there is. And you know there ain’t a fuck up out there we can’t fix together.”

“What if it’s too late to fix?” Well, okay, Atsumu doesn’t want to bring up his days of necromancy during middle school with Osamu into this so:

“We’re in this together ya dumb bitch. We’re gonna do our best because we’re gonna be the best Cat Dads in the history of Cat Dads.” Atsumu contemplates the merits of kicking his boyfriend and telling him to stop deflecting and decides against it; Kiyoomi wouldn’t appreciate that right now. That’s fine, they’ve got time. “Got anythin’ else sweetheart? I could do this all day.”

“Shut up.”

“No, you.”

“Piss off.”

“No thanks!”

“Fuck you.”

“Once we get back, now put yer shoes on you bastard.” Atsumu pats his bum to hurry Kiyoomi up. And because it’s a nice ass. But mostly to make Kiyoomi get a move on.

“My parents were legally married,” Kiyoomi sniffs, needing the last word.

“Sure, sure,” Atsumu’s always liked having the last word, but he’s already won their argument. He can give Kiyoomi this much, it’s not a loss in his books.

The two of them put their shoes on and head out. They’ll come back home as three.

updated vers on ao3

#love seeing the difference between this and the final version that i updated on ao3 #anyways yay formatting my blog and shit rn and nearly done !!#haikyuu #haikyuu fic #miya atsumu #sakusa kiyoomi #sakuatsu #my fic #maz writes

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dalgikiss · 1 year

Text

drowning in sunlight // a.miya

you wish you were the sun

genre: romance, angst

a/n: i am terribly terribly terribly!! sorry for the lack of updates, and to come back (v v v v v v v briefly) and give you this garbage that I've had in my drafts for ages as a return??? absolutely unacceptable. i'm still giving it to you regardless of the coherency. for some reason, i couldnt get the phrase 'i want him to look at me like the sun' out of my head, despite fully knowing that you cannot actually look at the sun, but i digress. in any case, here is this word vomit that i've had in my drafts but I couldn't stop thinking of.

“Do they ever shut up?”

Your friend, Sora Azuma rolls her eyes at the affectionate, for the lack of a better word, display Atsumu and his new girlfriend were putting on. You laugh robotically, dropping your bag onto your desk with a bit more force than you needed to.

The sound of his laughter mixing in with hers rings cheerfully in the small classroom and it does nothing to ease your heavy heart.

You can’t help the fleeting disgust that curls your lips and makes you roll your eyes at the sight. “You’d think,” You can’t help but fume a little, “that our relationship meant more to him since we were together for almost a year, but here he is with a new girl just after a month-”

Sora snorts at how vexed you look, before resting her hand across the top of yours.

“Hey,” her voice is soothing, calm, nothing like the rapid beating of your heart. She peers into your eyes and squeezes your fingers, “You’re okay. You got this”

“Besides,” her sweet smile lifts a little higher, a little more devious when her eyes narrow just slightly, “you’re way cuter than her. I overheard some girls in the hallway saying you and Atsumu were a cuter pair”

Those words shouldn’t make you feel a little bit better. But they do anyway.

You can’t help but sneak a peek over to the pair. Despite how fast Sora slaps her hand over your eyes, you’ve already burned the image of Atsumu rubbing his thumb over the pale expanse of his new girlfriend’s cheek, golden eyes staring at her so adoringly, it makes you sick to your stomach.

Sora clicks her tongue but pushes your hair back anyways and decides not to reprimand you. Instead, she drops a carton of juice at your desk under the guise of ‘got lucky at the vending machine and happened to get 2 instead of 1’

“Thanks,” You mumble, lips pressed together in a straight line, “i really appreciate it”

“I know,” Sora grins and holds up the matching carton, “Maybe you should focus on me instead of your deadbeat ex”

You scoff but you turn to face her fully anyways, resting your chin on the palm of your hand, eyes unfocused.

“He used to look at me like that,” You blurt it out before you can really think about anything else. When Sora stares at you with an exasperated look, you clamp your hand over your mouth quickly.

‘Sorry,” You squeak, “I didn’t mean to say that”

She doesn’t say anything but sips peacefully from her straw while you mull over the thick fog in your head.

He used to look at me like that

“Why are you staring at me?”

“I can’t look at my girl?”

“You look like a lovesick idiot”

“Yeah, yeah” Atsumu rolled his eyes at your quip while he pulled you towards him, “can’t help it when it’s you i’m lookin’ at”

You consider yourself saved by the bell when the incessant urge to stare at the couple creeps up on you again. With a soft sigh escaping from your lips, you pinch the bridge of your nose until a red mark appears to distract you from the ever growing need to look.

You’re beginning to understand why all breakup advice tells you to block your ex on every social media platform and avoid them as best as you can.

Sora turns to face you, arm covering her face as the sunlight begins to spill in through the windows. You laugh when she scrunches up her nose. She throws a paper ball at you and you’re thankful the teacher is too preoccupied with the front row to even notice you giggling away.

Atsumu rests his hand on his cheek and watches you cover your smile with an open palm, the corner of your eyes crinkling.

Atsumu lifted one of his hands when you had begun squinting, looking up towards the sky.

“It’s too sunny out,” you complained, but lifted up on your tiptoes to press a kiss onto the palm of his outstretched hand.

The sun blazed openly, no clouds in the sky and the heat from the sidewalk made you sweat. Atsumu squinted once at the sun before tugging you towards his side.

“It’s not so bad,” he mused, “it could be raining”

“Hmmm, i guess” you begrudgingly agreed before wrinkling your nose when a hot gust of air blew towards the two of you, “ew that just felt like the earth sneezed on me”

Atsumu laughed at your description, the sound ringing clearly in the still air. He looked at you with a fondness most people didn’t know he’s capable of, lips still curved into a smile. You caught his gaze and wiggled your eyebrows. Atsumu rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out. You tilted your head back and laughed.

He watched you with the weight of the words he was too scared to say resting on his back and carefully memorized every detail of your laughter.

Your pencil taps on the desk in a rhythm only you can hear. The rest of your classmates scribble away on their papers, eyebrows furrowed intensely. Yours is blank, saved for the prompt “I want to be…” written in English on the first line.

Sora’s paper is filled as she concentrates on translating the sentences in her head, tongue sticking out of her mouth. She looks up when she feels your gaze on her, taking the time to throw a small eraser at you.

Write, she mouths at you, before you get in trouble

I don’t know what to write, you want to say, I don’t know what I want to be

You’re lying. Of course you know what you want to be. You want to be-

“- the sun” you said it proudly, hands resting on your hip, “because I’m the brightest thing in your life”

“I dunno about that one,” Atsumu teased you, “ya really ain’t that special”

The sunlight shone in through the window, catching the top of your head. Atsumu watched you twirl in your spot. Beautiful, he thought to himself, tucking his arm behind his head, you always are

“You’re seriously going to tell me, your girlfriend, that I’m not special?” You threw the plush lying on his bed at him and he catches it easily, but you would never hurt him intentionally anyways.

The warmth of the sun made you dizzy. You landed on his bed with a heavy sigh and he immediately tugged you into his arms. He mumbled something into the crown of your head, the soft tone fading away in the quiet of the room.

You twisted around to face him and he pressed a kiss to your forehead in response. His heart beated peacefully while the sun casted gold around his room.

“The sun,” He murmured so quietly, you had to strain your ears to hear him. “You will always be the sun to me”

“You are something I cannot live without”

“[surname]-san”

You blink, lifting your head to meet the expectant gaze of your teacher. He cocks his head to the side, gesturing with his hand for you to read your assignment. Sora winces when she catches a glimpse of your still empty paper on your desk.

“Please read what you have written for the assignment”

You glance down at your paper and suck in air between your teeth.

Right, completely empty.

The teacher waits for you patiently, scribbling away notes on other student’s work in his notebook.

“I um-” You rack your brain desperately for an answer, the broken english words from random TV dramas playing rapidly in your mind, “I want to be-”

The sun catches onto something, reflecting right into your eyes. You automatically lift your hands to cover your face, turning your face slightly towards where the glare was coming.

Atsumu finally twists his watch face away from the sunbeam on his desk, hiding it underneath his sleeve before you notice.

He blinks slowly when you catch his gaze. A soft moment passes and then-

Atsumu smiles, the genuine ones that you’ve missed so much with the corners of his lips upturned until his eyes crinkle at the end.

(Is it wrong to hope that he misses you too?)

You know what you want to be.

“I want to be the sun,” You answer your teacher honestly, despite some weird looks that your classmates were casting at you. Sora raises her eyebrows but stays quiet, gently tapping her fingernails on the wood of the desk.

The teacher looks up from his notes, a little confused, but he smiles anyways, “Do you think you could elaborate a little on that?”

“Um,” You glance down at the paper held in between your shaky hands, “I-”

I want to be the sun because-

“It fuels life on Earth,” You finish lamely, staring down at your desk, “Sunny days are nice too, especially being able to go to the beach, or something like that”

You take your seat when the teacher nods his approval and wipe the sweat away from your palms on the pleats of your skirt. Sora grins encouragingly, giving you a soft thumbs up when you catch her eye.

The weight of Atsumu’s gaze rests heavily against you, golden eyes seemingly trying to swallow you whole.

I want to be the sun because I want him to look at me again

#atsumu angst #hq atsumu #atsumu imagines #atsumu miya #atsumu x reader #hq #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu reader insert #miya atsumu #haikyuu fanfiction #atsumu scenarios #atsumu x y/n

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waiting-for-what-again · 2 years

Text

My Own Worst Enemy

Atsumu x reader; College au

TW: Mentions of alcohol, angst, breakup

A/N: Idk why but whenever I hear the song “My Own Worst Enemy” by Lit I think of this man so I thought it best to try and write it out. Hope you enjoy!

11:39am

It was supposed to be a fun night out. He wanted to show you a good time, what a real party should be like. He can’t count the number he’s gotten around to, nor the number he’s thrown, nor the number of hangovers he’s had, but one thing’s for certain, he never fucked up this badly in his life. A pounding in his head blurred his vision in the early rays of sun peaking through the blinds. The bed was… above him? No, he was on the floor. With his clothes on. That’s one positive – right? Maybe. A groan escaped him as he slowly rose to a sit, his mind swimming in a desperate attempt to piece together the previous night. A stream of cool air ruffled his hair and hit his face. I did not come through the window last night. The window squeaked as it was slammed shut.

Slowly, he managed to trudge to the bathroom. It might just be the pounding in his head and the intense temptation to vomit, but something was off. Splashing cool water on his face in an attempt for clarity, it hit him. Your facewash you always left here wasn’t on the counter. Your teal toothbrush was missing. You can’t be gone after one bad night, can you?

Shit, shit, shit

Atsumu whispered to himself. His hands patted himself down for his phone. He needed to call someone, anyone who was at that party. He went back to the bathroom – he might actually throw up now.

Suna was probably there. There’s no way he wasn’t and if one person recorded anything last night, it was Suna. First he needed his phone. Probably left it in the car. At least he didn’t have to walk very far to search his vehicle since it happened to be right outside his door. On the lawn. In front of his apartment complex. A groan left him as his hand dragged down his face. To his much needed luck, the phone was indeed in the car and still had a little juice left in the battery.

83 notifications.

That can’t be good…

“I can’t believe you said that to her!!”

“Atsumu you fucking pig.”

“What did you do man…”

He couldn’t bring himself to read the rest, except when he saw a video from Suna accompanied by the words “Bro you really fucked up this time”. He didn’t know if he was prepared to watch it. He couldn’t bear to think of what he could have possibly said to you. You were everything to him. You brought him so much peace, so many laughs, so much comfort. He never met anyone he was so sure he wanted by his side as he ventured through the rest of college, the rest of his career, the rest of his life. But now he wasn’t so sure. You were gone. Quite possibly for good.

The video quality was poor along with its audio. He could make out some yelling from both of you. Then he remembered. Not everything, but pieces. You were hanging around that Meian guy. A little too close for being “just friends”. He tried to kiss you. Yes that’s what it was. You got upset and came to him, but he, he was drunk off his ass to say the least and he…

He blamed you.

And called you shallow.

And nothing but good looks.

And wanting to ride his coattails of inevitable success.

On the video he made out you throwing something at him. Maybe a bottle? Who knows.

Why, how? He didn’t mean any of that. Hell, he never even thought any of that. So where did it come from? He knew those words cut deep, things you yourself admitted to being insecure of others thinking when they saw the two of you as a couple. Oh but you were so much more. You were so smart and good at what you wanted to do. You were one of the top students in your manger and were destined for success especially after that internship you won over the summer. Not only were you that, but you were funny, you could keep up with his sense of humor and managed to keep him on his toes. You kept him in line and he kept you adventurous. You stayed friends your freshman year of school, but half way through the next, you both slowly came to terms with your feelings and got together. Now in the winter of you senior year, he was on the verge of losing you – if he hadn’t already.

He didn’t know what to do. He sunk to the floor and next thing he knew hot tears rolled down his cheeks and he began to sob.

---------------------------------------------------------------

2:09am

You left the party alone despite your friend’s insisting to follow you. You needed space. The walk to your apartment would hopefully assist in clearing your mind as well. About half-way back, the goosebumps began to appear. You didn’t bring a jacket because you didn’t think you needed one. If anything you would just borrow… his. You were about to pass his apartment actually. You always left a change of clothes there and usually a jacket. You had a key on you so might as well take advantage.

The familiar scent of the apartment hit you as soon as the door opened. He wouldn’t be back for at least another hour or two if he even managed to leave that is. You went to his closet and picked up the small neatly folded stack of clothes. That was all you really needed. But you knew you wouldn’t be coming back any time soon. Might as well grab the other couple things you left there too. That would be sure to send a message to Miya. You wondered if he would even remember what he said. He was the lightest weight you had ever met, which definitely did not suit him.

After collecting your toothbrush, facewash, clothes, and the few other necessities you kept there, you took a seat on the edge of his bed. All of your memories there waltz through your mind. The late night talks, long days studying, exciting nights filled with, well you know what. The past few years spent with Atsumu would certainly not be described as easy, but they were worth it. You dealt with his flaws as you dealt with his as all couples do. This time he just took it a bit too far.

He hit the major insecurities you couldn’t bring yourself to get rid of all together. You came to him for protection, but instead, you ended up wanting protection from him. From his words. He always had your back and was always there. You trusted him and he trusted you. So where did this come from? Was he thinking those things this whole time? Were you really so pathetic to… No, you needed to stop and leave. You couldn’t do this right now. Going home to your own bed never sounded so good.

You almost called him the next morning. Then the next day. Then the day after. You wanted to know why he said what he said if anything. You never saw him act so out of character. You had to know. You wanted to go back to the happy relationship you had not even four days ago. You weren’t sure where things would go from here now though. It might be a sign that things aren’t always as they seem.

---------------------------------------------------------------

#atsumu x reader #college au #atsumu miya #atsumu angst #First writing post so hopefully it went okay

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saturn-nite · 7 months

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"dream perfect..." - rules .

housekeeping;

please DO NOT ask me to write your ocs + overly specific/body type readers . slow writer but will try to respond to asks . thirsts are always welcome . will write hcs, drabbles & oneshots/minifics - i'll choose which format to use unless you mention it in your ask .

do not write;

pedophilia . rape + anything non-consensual . gore + body horror . dddne . yandere . race-play . sexual assault . drugs + alcohol . vomit . feet . body-specific readers . ocs . abo . period sex . piss kink . daddy*/mommy kink . mafia au . breeding kink .

*will depend on the character but largely no

characters i write;

childe . cloud strife . dazai osamu . dick grayson . ezreal . getou suguru . gojo satoru. jason todd . kaminari denki . marius von hagen . miya atsumu . rody soul . roronoa zoro . sakusa kiyoomi . takami keigo . todoroki touya . vanitas .

for requests;

please DO NOT ask me to write characters i have not stated in the above . generally will try to write gn!reader for hcs/thirsts . will choose amab/afab for oneshots unless specified in the request . word your ask nicely - dont order me around .

bear in mind;

i may not write every request . this is largely due to how busy i can get & that i will only pick requests i want to write - if not, i'll just respond to it as a thirst . may also edit your request a bit if im uncomfortable writing it . be respectful - these are just my interpretations of the characters . dont like, dont read . list of characters i write for may also change .

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teamatsumu · 6 months

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was i meant to love you? (part three)

pairing: miya osamu x reader

summary: the kanji on your arm says miya atsumu’s name, but every fiber of your being is in love with his twin brother.

word count: 2355

warnings: fem!reader, soulmate au, friends to lovers, mentions of cheating, whole lot of angst, swearing

taglist: @hadukada @utopiamiroh @angstylittleb1tch @sassycheesecake @i-have-no-life-charlie @tsukiran @jane57sstuff

previous part // series masterlist

It lasted mere seconds, but it felt like forever.

When your lips met Osamu’s, he froze up completely, every muscle in his body stiffening up so much it caused his shoulders to hunch, and the change in his demeanor immediately knocked you back into your senses. You pulled back, shocked, wide eyes meeting his own flabbergasted ones. You jerked back to detach yourself from his arms, trying to look anywhere that wasn’t him.

“Samu, I’m sorry.” You choked out. “I don’t know what came over me. I’m so- I didn’t mean that-”

“It’s okay.” Osamu cut you off, voice sounding strangled and weird. You didn’t dare look at him. “It’s- it’s fine. Yer- it’s just exhaustion. Yer tired as hell. All that- uh…. travel.”

Silence descended between you two after Osamu’s jittery word vomit, before you finally looked up at him. He was staring right back, and you saw his fingers twitch. You felt the sudden urge to touch him again. Have him hold you again. You watched as Osamu’s eyes flickered to your lips, his tongue darting out slightly to lick his own. You would’ve missed it if you weren’t already looking at him. The heat in you sizzled again and your breath caught.

He wanted you too.

Abruptly, Osamu reached for your little carry on that you had abandoned when you greeted him, stuttering something about how you should head home now. So you stayed silent, choosing to follow behind him without a word.

On the drive back, you allowed yourself to stew in the new revelation, to analyze the way Osamu had looked at you right after you kissed him. You couldn’t dare hope that these dark, taboo thoughts were something Osamu could reciprocate. But you weren’t blind. You knew what you saw.

“Samu-”

“We can’t tell Tsumu.”

His interruption was loud and firm, and it made you blink up at him. He remained focused on the road, and you watched his jaw tick when he clenched his teeth. He was white knuckling the steering wheel, and you felt a rush of guilt. He was right. You couldn’t do this. What were you thinking? You had already forced him into this impossible situation, basically making him lie to his twin brother, and somehow you were hoping that this….. could be more?

Shame. That was all you felt. Pure, unaltered shame.

You blinked away the tears that sprung into your eyes, nodding quickly in agreement with him. “Okay.”

…………….

The apartment was two bedrooms, modestly sized, not too big, but cozy enough. The kitchen was open and the bathroom was spacious, and there was a nice little genkan up front which was already littered with the twins’ shoes. You smiled at the sight.

It already felt like home.

“Yer bedroom’s this one.” Osamu commented when you were looking through the place. “You and Tsumu share so ya obviously got the bigger one.”

You nodded, remembering that you, in fact, had to share a bedroom with Atsumu. Right. Of course. You watched as Osamu placed your bags neatly against a wall in the room, before making his way out. You followed him, not used to the foreign sight of how broad his back was now. You shook your head.

“Samu-”

“I know what ya wanna talk about, and we can’t.” He interrupted you again, and your mouth fell shut immediately. You watched his back stiffen and fall as he tried to relax. You sighed.

“I was just gonna apologize.” Your voice was barely above a whisper. “It was a mistake.”

Osamu gave you a glance, then a tiny uptick of the corner of his lips. You felt your heart ache.

“Right.” He nodded. “A mistake.”

He disappeared into his bedroom.

It was very late when Atsumu showed up that night, and he looked absolutely exhausted. He gave you a wide, lazy grin and hugged you tight, mumbling about how you were finally here. As you sank into his arms, your guilt from earlier returned. Your brain kept reminding you of the hug you shared with Osamu, and you screamed at it to shut up.

Even as you laid down next to Atsumu, watching as his heavy breathing slowly turned into snores, you remembered the feeling of Osamu’s lips on yours. Brief as it was, it caused something to zip through you, crackling through your spine. You longed to kiss him again, longer this time, to really be allowed to feel him. As you silently cried, you cursed yourself for getting tangled up in this mess. Because at this point, there was no getting out of it.

You were in love with Miya Osamu. A man who wasn’t your soulmate.

…………………….

It wasn’t often that he did this, but even Kita Shinsuke was capable of altering his routine every now and then. Especially for a trip like this, which he made once a month. While following a premade schedule was preferred, Kita always made time for his loved ones, and among them was a trip to the city so he could make a rare rice delivery to his favorite Onigiri place.

The bell above the door chimed as he pushed it open with his shoulder, arms carrying the load of his precious rice. Osamu looked up from the counter, eyes brightening up at the sight of him, smiling slightly. Almost immediately, Kita noticed that his expression was…. dimmer. Something was bothering him. Kita stored the information in his brain for later.

“Why are yer visits always so late at night, Kita-san?” Osamu asked, already moving to put together a plate of Onigiri with all of Kita’s preferred flavors. While this trip was different to Kita’s usual routine, the way it happened was always the same. Kita would wrap up the daily tasks at the farm, then he would load his truck with rice and make his way to Onigiri Miya. Osamu would make him a nice fresh plate of Onigiri, and they would chat over it, catching up with each other.

“Would you rather I show up during the day? When you’re extremely busy?”

Osamu grumbled and stayed silent, knowing that Kita had a point, as always. Kita watched him slowly work as he took a place on the counter, eyeing how his back and shoulders slumped. Like an invisible burden rested on him.

“So, what’s botherin’ you?” He asked, hearing Osamu sigh.

“Nothin’. Why does it have ta be somethin’?”

Kita smiled to himself. “What happened, Osamu?”

His voice was gentle, but firm, and Osamu paused in his work to string together a very weighted sentence.

“She kissed me.”

Kita knew, instantly, who Osamu meant. There could be no other ‘she’ in his life. It was only one person, someone who Osamu had fallen unknowingly in love with years ago, and someone he had never managed to get over.

Kita sighed, staring down at the counter, thinking. He had anticipated this when he heard that she would be returning to live with the twins. He just hadn’t thought it would happen as soon as she arrived.

“And what are you thinking?” He asked.

Osamu turned to Kita then, and Kita saw how clouded his face was. He felt for his junior, truly, watching very clearly the struggle he was going through. Something he had been going through for years, trying to fight these growing feelings and living with the guilt of ever harboring them in the first place.

“‘M not thinking anythin’.” Osamu replied. “I- I feel dirty. And angry.”

Kita felt his lips twitch. He gave Osamu a small smile.

“No ya don’t.” He countered. “At least, not because of the kiss. But rather the circumstances surrounding it. Yer not mad at her, yer mad at the world for forcing you into this situation.”

Osamu frowned. “What does it matter? Either way, she ain’t- she isn’t…”

Mine. She’s not mine. She’s my fucking brother’s soulmate.

It was pretty easy to guess Osamu’s train of thought. Kita hummed and stayed quiet, watching Osamu carefully shape the rice in his hands. Truthfully, Kita was deep in thought himself. He wondered if he should share with Osamu a conversation he had had with his granny many years ago, when he was still in high school and had first noticed the way Osamu’s gaze lingered on his brother’s soulmate.

“How’s her relationship with Atsumu?” He asked, trying to confirm the theory his granny had planted in his head.

Osamu gave him a weird look, placing the now completed plate before him. “How should I know? What they do is their business.”

Kita took a bite out and reveled in how the flavor burst in his mouth.

“Maybe you should try to find out.”

Osamu still looked confused, but one look at the finality of Kita’s expression, and he just nodded slowly. Because if Kita was asking, then there was probably a damn good reason.

…………………….

When Osamu got home that night, he found you sitting on a stool, leaning heavily on the kitchen counter. In front of you was a bottle of red wine half consumed, and an almost empty glass. You didn’t even look up when he entered, and Osamu almost thought you were asleep, but then he noticed your leg shaking under the table, an old habit you had never managed to kick.

“Hey,” he greeted, making your head snap up from where it was resting on your arms. You gave him a lazy smile that had Osamu’s heart racing, but he ignored it in favor of noticing the hazy, distant look in your eyes.

“How much have ya had?” He asked, slowly pulling the bottle away from you and carrying it back to the cabinet. You didn’t protest, just sighing and dropping your head back down on your arms.

“Was waiting for Tsumu.” You explained. “But it looks like he’ll be late. Again.”

Osamu didn’t even have it in him to feel that little kick of jealousy that he often experienced when he was reminded of the nature of your relationship with his twin brother. He was too tired for that. Emotionally and physically.

“C’mon, time for bed.” He announced, wrapping a hand around your arm to tug you up on your feet. You obeyed, albeit slowly, swaying as you rose. Osamu let you lean on him as he led you to your room, mind clouded once again with his complicated feelings. Once he had sat you down on your bed, he turned to leave, but your forlorn expression stopped him short.

Don’t bother her. Just leave.

“Somethin’ wrong?” He asked instead.

You blinked and looked up, as if just realizing that Osamu was there. You gave him a tiny smile, and Osamu felt his breath get stuck in his lungs. He was reminded, painfully, just how beautiful you were.

“You ever feel like the universe is taking a huge dump on you?”

Osamu froze in shock, before feeling laughter bubble up in him. He sat down on the edge of the bed next to you, trying to fight back a smile.

“All the time.”

You giggled, and the sound made some of the tension leave Osamu’s stiff shoulders. He felt himself relax the longer he was around you. You sighed and leaned your head on his shoulder, and Osamu closed his eyes, let himself believe, for a brief second, that everything would turn out okay.

“I wish you were Tsumu.”

There it was.

Osamu grit his teeth, not opening his eyes yet. He couldn’t have this conversation while looking directly at you.

“Ya don’t mean that.”

“I really do.”

A small bout of silence. “You love Tsumu.”

“I do.” You admitted. “But not the way I should love him. Not the way I love you.”

Osamu felt himself ignite at your words, feeling like he wasn’t even in his own skin. He felt almost like he was weightless, like at any moment, he would fall, crash and burn to the ground for even having this conversation with you. He recalled Kita’s words from earlier.

How’s her relationship with Atsumu?

“So yer not-” His voice broke. He cleared his throat. “Yer not in love with him?”

He felt your head move against him, shaking from side to side. It made his heart jump. Oh my god.

“Am I a horrible person?” He heard your voice pitch get higher, a sign that you were about to cry. “The universe made him for me and I’m being so ungrateful. And so, so selfish-”

“Stop.” Osamu finally opened his eyes, shifted so that you would lift your head up and look him in the eye. He saw the tears lining your lashes, and it made him reach up to cup your face, gentle as he could possibly be. Your eyelids fluttered, as if basking in his touch, and Osamu was overwhelmed with the need to kiss you.

“We’re going to figure this out. Okay? Me and you and Tsumu. All three of us. Yer not wrong for feelin’ this way. Ya can’t be. If feeling like this about someone other than yer soulmate is possible then there’s gotta be a reason for it.”

Your hands came up to cup his own, your eyes apprehensive but hanging on to his every word.

“Okay.” You whispered. “Yeah. You’re right. I’m not- This isn’t my fault.”

Osamu smiled and nodded, leaning forward to press his lips firmly against your forehead. He felt you physically relax in his hold, and his heart soared again.

Once he had finally put you to bed, the first thing Osamu did was text Kita, fingers moving quickly over the letters.

How did u know?

He waited anxiously for a reply, biting at his fingernails as he thought over the exchange you two had had earlier. In the silence of the apartment, his thoughts were louder than ever. When his phone buzzed, he rushed to open the text.

;)

Osamu scowled and groaned, running a frustrated hand through his hair. He didn’t have time for Kita to start getting playful. Just as he was about to call his senpai, another text came through.

Look up Platonic Soulmates.

#miya osamu x reader #miya osamu x you #miya osamu x y/n #miya osamu angst #miya osamu fluff #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu angst #hq angst #soulmate au #osamu x reader #miya atsumu x reader

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