luster-less
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i think the weirdest part about falling into the haikyuu fandom is realizing how i used to see these characters one-dimensionally. like, you start the show thinking they’re just a bunch of volleyball dorks. nothing more, nothing less. you watch kuroo show up with his messy hair and snarky comments and you go "ah. the flirty one." and that’s all you think about him. you move on.
but then you’re on here for too long. you start reading things. fanart. fics. metas. suddenly you’re seeing posts about how kuroo’s actually smart—like nerd smart. how he’s a science guy. how he’s majoring in biology and tutors underclassmen and probably owns glasses he only wears in private. and the worst part? it starts making sense. you start going, "yeah… he would quote scientific metaphors during sex, wouldn’t he?" and boom. he’s not just the flirty one anymore. he’s the kind of man who’d press you up against a chalkboard and ask if you want to learn about anatomy.
and it keeps happening.
like sakusa. the fandom got him so wrong and so right at the same time. everyone saw the mask and immediately screamed "germaphobe!" and now every post is like "he won’t even hold your hand" but that’s not even canon. he’s cautious, not afraid of germs. the man wipes a volleyball, not your soul. he’s not squeamish. he’s careful. and that changes everything. because now you realize, oh. he’s not afraid to touch. he’s just particular. so when he does touch you? when he’s intimate with you? it’s intentional. it means something. and that thought? way filthier than "germaphobe" ever was.
then there’s mattsun. i watched the show thinking, "he’s chill. background character. probably smokes." but now? i can’t not associate him with the phrase "horse cock mattsun" like it’s his legal name. no one questioned it. we just saw him with that slow smile and relaxed posture and said, "yeah, he’s packing" and we believe it.
hinata? i used to think he was just cute. just energetic. little ball of sunshine. then he comes back from brazil all tanned and toned and suddenly the fandom’s like "he fucks now" and i didn’t even fight it. i just accepted it. post-timeskip hinata isn’t just confident. he’s got that kind of raw, unbothered, i’ve-been-around-the-block sex appeal that radiates off him. and i feel like i didn’t agree to that but also… thank you?
and osamu. osamu was just "atsumu’s twin who makes rice" that’s it. until the fandom made him tired and stern and warm. now he’s dad-coded. husband-coded. dilf-coded. sleeves rolled up, calloused hands, says very little but feeds you like it’s love. i didn’t plan to simp for a fictional small business owner but here we are.
what gets me is how natural it all feels. like the fandom didn’t invent anything. they just found it. they looked at crumbs and somehow baked an entire meal. and now i’ll never be the same. i watch the show now and all i can think is "you have no idea what tumblr’s done to you."
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ your body is his birthright
this man does not believe in personal space. if you’re in the room, he’s touching. doesn’t matter if he’s got a match in an hour—if he catches a glimpse of your bare thighs under one of his shirts, he’s already hard. you’ll be brushing your teeth, and he’s coming up behind you, lazy grin stretching across his smug face as he presses his cock right against your ass. “didn’t even know ya were awake, sweetheart,” he’ll say, voice still rough from sleep, and then he’s bending you over the sink like it’s nothing. just lifts the shirt, pulls your panties to the side, and slides in with a hiss through his teeth. he doesn’t give you a second to process—he’s already fucking you before your toothpaste hits the counter.
his mornings start with cum leaking down your thighs and his mouth on your neck, whispering “such a good girl f’me.” and if you try to resist? if you whine that you’re sore, or that you have work, or that maybe he should chill for like five seconds? he just growls a soft “nah, you don’t get to tell me no, not when you walk around this fuckin’ house leakin’ from the night before.”
miya atsumu believes in full access. free use isn’t even a kink to him—it’s how he shows affection. you sit on the couch to relax? he’s got your legs spread across his lap, hand already sliding up your inner thigh, fingers dipping into your soaked folds like he owns them (he does). you’re making dinner? he’s got you bent over the kitchen island, one hand gripping your throat and the other fucking you from behind so deep you forget your name. food burns on the stove because he’s got you gasping, drooling, eyes rolling back while he mutters filth in your ear: “you love this, don’tcha? love bein’ my little fucktoy. can’t go a day without my cock, huh?”
and don’t even think about saying no when you’re wearing something cute. short shorts? he’s dragging them down your legs and licking into you from behind while you try to hold yourself up on trembling knees. his favorite shirt on you with no bra? he’s sucking your nipples raw while grinding against your heat until he’s desperate enough to take you on the floor, the bed, the fucking hallway.
this man has a mouth like sin. he eats pussy like it’s a reward, like it’s holy, like he needs to be buried in you just to keep breathing. tongue everywhere—circling, sucking, dipping inside—his arms locked around your thighs while you squirm. he lives for the mess, for the taste of you dripping off his chin, for the way you beg him to stop when you’re already cumming again and again and again. but he never stops. he keeps going until you break.
and the filth he spews while inside you should be illegal. he’ll hold you down, cum spilling out of you from the last round, and say “bet ya love bein’ filled up, huh? you’re made for my cock. fuckin’ greedy little thing. can’t get enough, can ya?” every single time you finish, he’s praising you like you’ve given him the world. “atta girl. look at ya, takin’ it so good. let’s do it again.”
refractory period? he doesn’t know her. he’ll cum, take a breather, and slide right back in while you’re still twitching from the aftershocks. your legs are shaking? pretends he doesn’t see them. you’re crying? he kisses the tears away and fucks you deeper. he’ll pin you down, rub your clit until you scream, and thrust until you’re writhing, completely brainless beneath him.
he’s not satisfied until you’re crying, drooling, covered in his cum, and still begging for more—because you will. he makes sure of it. you’re addicted, ruined, owned. and atsumu? he’s proud of that. he’s cocky, sweaty, flushed, breathing hard while he watches you collapse and says, “fuck, ya look so pretty like that. think i’m ready for round five.”
#haikyuu x reader smut#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu smut#miya atsumu#atsumu smut#atsumu x reader#atsumu x reader smut#miya atsumu smut#miya atsumu x reader#miya atsumu x reader smut
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idek why i even posted this. it ain’t even my main acc 😭
ੈ✩‧₊˚ not even sex can stop him from being a huge nerd

your laptop sat open on the desk, half-forgotten as your fingers trembled over the keyboard. the assignment deadline loomed, but it was really hard to focus when your boyfriend was buried between your thighs, lapping at you with slow, deliberate strokes.
kuroo had been at it for at least twenty minutes, taking his sweet time, letting the occasional deep groan vibrate against your pussy just to watch you squirm. he was always like this—half a menace, half a worshipper—dragging you right to the edge only to pull back and start over. it was infuriating.
you bit your lip, trying to stay somewhat composed, your hips shifting toward his mouth as he sucked your clit between his lips and rolled his tongue against it in that obscene way that made your toes curl. you barely managed to type another sentence before a sharp whimper escaped your throat, and he chuckled—smug bastard.
“mm, getting close?” his voice was muffled, lips brushing against your slick folds.
“y-yeah, so stop—”
but of course, he didn’t stop. he paused. and that was somehow so much worse.
instead of diving back in like a decent boyfriend, he lifted his head slightly, fingers idly tracing patterns against the inside of your thigh. “you know, i read this study the other day about how the female orgasm actually lasts three times longer than the male’s,” he mused, voice far too casual for someone who had his face drenched in your juices. “it has something to do with the way the pelvic muscles contract—”
“tetsu, i swear to fucking god—”
“no, but listen—” he pressed a quick kiss to your clit, as if that would make up for his absolute nonsense. “the average male orgasm lasts about six seconds, right? but for women, it’s closer to twenty. and some women can even have multiple in succession. isn’t that fascinating?”
your entire body twitched with frustration. “tetsurou.”
“what?” he asked, blinking up at you with faux innocence, lips glistening with proof of just how not innocent he was.
“either put that mouth to better use or—”
you barely had a second to brace yourself before he groaned—that deep, gravelly sound that sent heat curling in your belly—and devoured you like he had something to prove. his tongue flicked against your clit, fast and relentless, two fingers pressing inside you with that perfect curl, stroking the exact spot that made your back arch clean off the chair.
you barely had time to suck in a breath before pleasure slammed into you, your entire body trembling as you came with a broken, desperate moan. and he didn’t stop.
“mmh, see?” he mumbled against you, his words vibrating through your overstimulated nerves. “multiple in succession. science is so fucking cool.”
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ not even sex can stop him from being a huge nerd

your laptop sat open on the desk, half-forgotten as your fingers trembled over the keyboard. the assignment deadline loomed, but it was really hard to focus when your boyfriend was buried between your thighs, lapping at you with slow, deliberate strokes.
kuroo had been at it for at least twenty minutes, taking his sweet time, letting the occasional deep groan vibrate against your pussy just to watch you squirm. he was always like this—half a menace, half a worshipper—dragging you right to the edge only to pull back and start over. it was infuriating.
you bit your lip, trying to stay somewhat composed, your hips shifting toward his mouth as he sucked your clit between his lips and rolled his tongue against it in that obscene way that made your toes curl. you barely managed to type another sentence before a sharp whimper escaped your throat, and he chuckled—smug bastard.
“mm, getting close?” his voice was muffled, lips brushing against your slick folds.
“y-yeah, so stop—”
but of course, he didn’t stop. he paused. and that was somehow so much worse.
instead of diving back in like a decent boyfriend, he lifted his head slightly, fingers idly tracing patterns against the inside of your thigh. “you know, i read this study the other day about how the female orgasm actually lasts three times longer than the male’s,” he mused, voice far too casual for someone who had his face drenched in your juices. “it has something to do with the way the pelvic muscles contract—”
“tetsu, i swear to fucking god—”
“no, but listen—” he pressed a quick kiss to your clit, as if that would make up for his absolute nonsense. “the average male orgasm lasts about six seconds, right? but for women, it’s closer to twenty. and some women can even have multiple in succession. isn’t that fascinating?”
your entire body twitched with frustration. “tetsurou.”
“what?” he asked, blinking up at you with faux innocence, lips glistening with proof of just how not innocent he was.
“either put that mouth to better use or—”
you barely had a second to brace yourself before he groaned—that deep, gravelly sound that sent heat curling in your belly—and devoured you like he had something to prove. his tongue flicked against your clit, fast and relentless, two fingers pressing inside you with that perfect curl, stroking the exact spot that made your back arch clean off the chair.
you barely had time to suck in a breath before pleasure slammed into you, your entire body trembling as you came with a broken, desperate moan. and he didn’t stop.
“mmh, see?” he mumbled against you, his words vibrating through your overstimulated nerves. “multiple in succession. science is so fucking cool.”
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