#Haikyuu reader insert

[sodaneko]

MIDNIGHT MORNING ; Kuroo x f!reader

five times Kuroo almost kisses you and one time he does

contains: f!reader, fluff, friends to lovers, 5+1 things, mutual pining, brother's best friend, sprinkles of fake dating and protective kuroo, a handful suggestive lines, kuroo tetsuro is a heartthrob. basically one very long beach episode. written as a gift for @mattsundaes for our summer fic exchange ♡

word count: 6.5k

・❥・ONE

Two train rides, three different buses, one ferry and a steep climb with your suitcases rattling behind you until you reach the small town that is nestled between the mountains and the shore. Your back is aching from the long trip and the crushing weight of expectations you felt the past couple of months. Impending deadlines, endless correction loops, rejection letter after rejection letter–all for a manuscript only you seem to believe in. 

One could say you were a little tired. 

“You need some sun in your face, salt water and a summer fling,” Ennoshita insisted over the phone during one of your late night facetime calls. You wanted to protest but the words got stuck in your throat as you looked around in your shoebox-sized apartment in the buzzing heart of Tokyo. The empty takeout containers, dusty books piled up on the floor because you ran out of space to store them and time to read them, fading polaroids on the fridge from your college days. It wasn’t bad; it was a home–the first one you lived all by yourself in. 

It was full of memories. Most of them were suffocating.

Ennoshita–ever observant and sensitive to your moods–sighed softly at the sight of the exhaustion written all over your face. No amount of silly filters could cover up the fact that you worked yourself to the bone over the past couple of months, writing the book you’ve told him about since your high school days. Your best friend knew when you ran out of fumes, but he also knew better than to openly voice his worries or else you’d downplay them and shut down completely. 

So he made a proposal. And you accepted. 

“Spend the summer at my place while I’m abroad. You’ll love this town, I promise. A five minute walk to the beach, a lot of local shops, good food, you can bike everywhere. A change of scenery might help you with your manuscript, too. And even if you don’t write a single word while you’re here, your heart will feel a little lighter after some time away.”

The sun is already setting once you make it to the address scribbled down on a crumbled piece of paper. It’s your first time here; your packed schedules never allowed you to visit Ennoshita after he moved to this town after graduating college, he either came to see you in Tokyo or you two met back at your hometown in Miyagi for holidays and class reunions.

You don’t bother switching the lights on once you step inside the small apartment, the last rays of sunshine illuminating the room in golden hues. Aside from the things Ennoshita mentioned there’s also a bunch of handpicked flowers on the table, as well as a box of XL condoms and cherry-flavored lube–it seems your best friend took you getting laid during your stay here very seriously. You kick off your shoes and drop your heavy bags before exploring the rest of the apartment: The tidy kitchen with a small watermelon left for you on the counter, the bathroom covered in tiles that revoke a certain nostalgia in you, the soft and cooling tatami underneath your feet in the bedroom, a futon already rolled out for you. It’s homey, welcoming you in. 

Please be kind, you ask these walls and the floor replies with gentle sighs every step you take. 

It’s getting late but you’re still determined to grab some late dinner from the store since the bento box you bought at the first train station didn’t last you too long. Your body feels weary from the endless travel and exhaustion. Food, shower, sleep. For once you don’t even think about your notebook or the unread emails in your inbox, and despite everything an unknown feeling of calmness starts to settle in your chest. Maybe your stay here really will do you good, in one way or another. 

The conbini is mostly empty, just the cashier and a small group of teenagers lingering between the aisles. You pull your cap deeper in your face and move on autopilot, grabbing your usual snacks without paying much attention to the other people–after this long day you’re not feeling the most presentable. It should be a quick grocery run anyway and in five more minutes you can finally peel out of these sticky clothes and wash your hair and fall face down on the–

“Kittens. That’s cute.”

A warm, silky voice with a little rasp to it. An amused chuckle that you’ve heard countless times growing up, to a point it’s been engraved into your being. Your name, spoken with a certain softness to it that was reserved for him only.

With your shopping haul pressed to your chest you look down at yourself; the old shorts with a cute kitty pattern you mindlessly threw on before you left the house, just relieved not to walk around in pants with coffee stains on them anymore.  

“And if I recall correctly, that used to be my cap.”

A big silhouette inches into your vision, someone tapping the shield of your hat to make you look up. When you don’t react–because frankly, your brain froze from the sound of his voice–two calloused fingers cup your chin and tip it up gently. You’re met with a pair of hazel, almost golden eyes, a familiar twinkle behind them as they take you in.

Kuroo. Your brother’s best friend, certified menace and your first puppy love.

(Is it still puppy love when the feelings have never fully gone away after over a decade of secret pining?)

You blink at him once, twice, until your body remembers how to breathe, but it’s as if your tongue is tied like cherry stems; just the way he used to show you during these relentless summer days at your childhood home years ago. Between a bowl of freshly picked cherries from the garden, the soft whir of the fan, yen store water pistols and Kuroo’s sticked out tongue, you fell in love quietly but violently. 

To this day you still wonder how Kuroo tastes. 

Picking up on your blindsided state, Kuroo reaches for the items still clutched in your grip, gently prying them from your hands and heading towards the cashier. With a second of delay you stumble after him, but he’s already swiping his card and packing everything in two plastic bags. 

“Come, come,” he laughs, wraps an arm around your shoulder (be still, heart) and guides you outside. You sit down on a small bench in front of the store together, so close your knees are touching, and it’s only then when you finally find your voice again. 

“Kuroo, what the fuck.” 

He barks out a laugh before handing you an unwrapped ice cream from the box, his fingers brushing against his when you reach for it. You nudge him with your knee and he takes his sweet time to grab another cool treat for himself before turning towards you, stilling your restless leg with a big hand. 

“Didn’t your brother tell you anything?” he asks curiously, tilting his head slightly. His hair was the usual mess and tussle, small strands sticking to his temples from the heat that still lingers despite the hour of the night. 

“Now that you’re saying… I guess he mentioned something that you’re spending summer at your grandparents’ home town…” you think out loud, trying to jog your memory. The past couple of months have been a blur if you were being honest, the stress making every day bleed into another. It is still hard to comprehend that you’re gonna spend a month in a quaint town by the seaside, and even harder to comprehend that Kuroo of all people is here, too.

Your Kuroo. 

“They kept their house here even after we moved to Tokyo,” he explains, his voice now softer. “It’s off-season at work at the moment so I’m using the chance to get out of town as far as possible. Or well, as far as I could afford.” 

He laughs again and something syrupy spreads in your ribcage down to your stomach, warm and tingling. You haven’t seen him in a year or two but being here with him, in a town where you’re a stranger, with a heart that yearns for a place to put all this useless love down–Kuroo seems like heaven sent. 

You sit and talk for one more hour and four more ice creams, until the store closes and shuts its lights off, leaving you in the dark. Kuroo reaches for your shopping bags and gives your thigh a small pat before he gets up, holding out a hand for you as if he knew how weary your legs must feel tonight. Your hand slips effortless into his and it lingers for a few more heartbeats than necessary but neither of you attempts to pull away first. You reach for one of the plastic bags but Kuroo holds them above his head with his signature grin before tapping your cap again. 

"C'mon. I’ll walk you home,” he insists, taking three long strides and looking over his shoulder to see if you’re catching up, laughing when you huff and puff by his heel, just like you did when you were younger and begging him and your brother to take you out with them on an adventure. 

Except this time around it’s just Kuroo and you, no one else.

That night, only the stars and the moon are witness to you lingering in the doorframe and Kuroo hovering close to you, his voice a whisper against the shell of your ear when he tells you good night.

“Clingy,” he murmurs with a quiet laugh when your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him in for a hug. He doesn’t push you away though. Instead he embraces you, your head tucked under his chin, holding you for as long as you need to; it’s as if he can sense that you really need that hug right now, that everything inside of you is crumbling. 

Kuroo is like a lighthouse after being lost at sea for too long; he’s as warm and sticky as you are, and he smells like the ocean and like Kuroo, and for a brief moment you think about kissing your brother’s best friend–

It’s when his calloused hands cradle your face that you feel a little lightheaded, as if he’s contemplating something, weighing his heart in his palm. Eventually he squishes your cheeks together and leans in close, but not enough for your lips to meet. You can see the dimples etched in his face when he smiles again.

“I’ll see you around,” he mutters before releasing you from his grip, giving you a small wave of his hand before disappearing into the night and leaving you with the burning feel of longing in your chest.

・❥・TWO

You sleep for an entire day and a half, then some more. You settle into your new rhythm. Until you don’t sleep at all. 

Granted, your sleep schedule has been a mess even before you arrived in the beach town, but being away from home and having zero responsibilities–except for eating five different summer fruits a day and taking a dip in the ocean at least once per day–really messed with whatever healthy sleep pattern you had left. On your third night you toss and turn, you try every trick in the books, from counting sheep (oddly enough the sheep were black cats with a very similar cowlick to someone you know), drinking hot milk with honey, masturbating till your toy died, to lavender essential oil rubbed to your temples… 

It’s useless.

The retro clock on the nightstand shows 01:47 and you’re wide awake. Not even the sound of the ocean carried through the open window can lull you to sleep. You’re half-tempted to work on your manuscript but it seems even more intimidating this hour of the night when you can’t trust your own thoughts and every feeling just seems to be amplified.

You reach for your phone, aware that staring at a small and bright screen that contains every information of the world won’t help your course but since no sleep is in sight either way, you might as well just do some mindless scrolling. Kuroo and you have texted back and forth a few times since your conbini encounter, mostly him sharing links with stuff to do around town and you sending him photos of your homecooked meals. Back when you moved out for college he teased you relentlessly about your lack of cooking skills, backed up by your brother and the one incident that gave all three of you food poisoning. 

But times have changed, everything is different now, except for the fact that Kuroo still makes your heart sing in your chest after all this time. 

There’s a small green dot next to his icon (a photo of him from his vacation last year, all tan and buff in a white tank top, a wide grin showing off his snaggleteeth) and before you can ask yourself what’s keeping Kuroo up at night, three dots next to his name appear, followed by a message popping up on your screen. 

>> can’t sleep either? >> let’s take a walk. i know a spot :) 

Ten minutes later–after hastily throwing on something without a kitten pattern–you meet Kuroo by the crossroads. He’s pushing his bike and waves when he spots you trotting down the small hill. His hair seems even messier than usual, proof of his own restless attempts to find some sleep, but he looks happy. 

(Happy to see you.)

“Sit,” he gestures, patting the bicycle rack when you hesitate. He even brought a small pillow for you. This sly cat. He had it all planned out.

“I could’ve brought my own bike,” you protest weakly as you climb behind him, unsure where to put your arms, too distracted by his broad figure in front of you. Kuroo laughs softly and reaches around, big hands wrapping around your wrists and gently guiding them around his waist. 

“I know, but I didn’t want you to.” He gives your arms a small squeeze after making sure you’re all seated behind him. “Hold on to me, okay?”

The old bicycle squeaks slightly under your combined weight as Kuroo starts to pedal, guiding you through the empty streets. The moon shines bright, illuminating your way as you follow the entwined road, the ocean always in sight. You wonder if Kuroo can feel your heart stuttering in your chest, pressed against his back, his warmth seeping into you. When he hums softly, his whole body seems to vibrate, almost like a cat purring. 

You’re unsure how long you stay like this until you reach a small secluded beach, hidden away by big trees and wild berry bushes. The night air is a little more cool than throughout the day but you’re not freezing. You never do with Kuroo around. He grabs a beach towel and two cans of iced coffee from the basket of his bike before gesturing to you to follow him closer towards the ocean. 

“Iced coffee, seriously?” you laugh, eying his choice of drinks. “Unusual sleep remedy but I’ll take it.” Kuroo gives you a half-sided smile before pinching your cheek, a habit from old times.

“It’s a few more hours till the sun rises. We might as well just stay up until then,” he muses, laughing when you swat his hand away playfully. He grabs it mid-air, effectively stilling it. This time he doesn’t pull away and neither do you. Your heart is doing somersaults in your ribcage. 

Time seems to stand still for the both of you as you sit by the shore. Kuroo doesn’t pry out of you what keeps you up at night and neither do you, an unspoken agreement between you to leave the lingering heaviness out, if only for a night. You’re sitting close, your thighs touching, your hand still in his, quietly sipping your drinks. Every now and then his thumb would absentmindedly rub over your knuckles while he speaks, sweet nothings about his childhood days at his grandparents’ house and about the summer festival that’s coming up. 

The ghost of a kiss is pressed to the crown of your head when you let it sink against his shoulder, followed by a quiet chuckle that brings back the syrupy feel in your stomach. There’s a lot of things you want to say to Kuroo, but for now you let your heart roam wild and free with the rising sun, announcing a new dawn.

・❥・THREE

“Seriously, what is it with this place? What’s with all the couple discounts?” you mutter under your breath, arms linked with Kuroo who is feeding you chocolate covered strawberries as you slowly walk through the crowded alleys. Live music, excited chatter, windchimes and the nearby ocean blend together in perfect harmony, mixing in with the drum of your restless heart. 

“Well, it’s a quaint and romantic town after all,” he quips back before taking a bite for himself. “A lot of elderly couples from this area spent their honeymoon here before other destinations got more popular. But their traces still linger.” 

In true summer festival fashion you’re both wearing yukatas, soft against your skin in the heat of summer. You found them stored away in the closet of Kuroo’s grandparents–matching ones even–which opened you an unexpected world of couple discounts at the local food stalls. 

Pretending to be Kuroo’s girlfriend is surprisingly easy, almost too easy, and in a corner of your heart you know you’re gonna miss this feeling when it’s gone after tonight. But for now you’re here, tucked to his side, the universe shrinking down to just the two of you. Kuroo stops and chats with the vendors, some of them recognizing him from when he was a little kid (it’s the hair), and each time he introduces you as his girl, your heart feels like it’s bursting at its seams.

It’s a white lie you swallow with ease, sweet like honey and ambrosia, forever etched in your memory. The deeply lonely part of your being would’ve found it cruel almost, if it wasn’t soothed by Kuroo’s warm hand sprawled out against the small of your back guiding you through the bustling crowd. Every now and then he leans down to you, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear to ask what you want to eat next, if you’re okay, or just to point out a cat napping on the awning of a food stall. 

With two cups of shaved ice you sit down somewhere quieter, Kuroo’s long legs sprawled out, leaving you little to no space on the bench. It’s been two weeks since your arrival in town and by now you both fell back easily into the established banter between you. Kuroo wordlessly pats his lap before you can nag at him, a content smile on his lips when you get his intentions and put your legs up on top of his thighs. He pulls you a little closer, one large hand wrapping around your ankle, feeling the soft skin there. His fingertips are cold from the ice cream but his touch leaves a fire in its wake. 

It should be enough. 

Getting a taste of being with Kuroo, being in love with Kuroo–it should be enough. But being here with him, in this town where no one knows your name except the one who speaks it so softly, the lightness you haven’t felt in months, the stolen, lingering touches, reminiscent of your shared past… you can’t help but feel a little greedy.

You look down at the ice cream cup in your hands, melting faster than you can eat it, a small puddle of red sweetness, staining your tongue and your lips. It’s been forever since you’ve been kissed and it wasn’t even a good kiss, none worth remembering, just a fleeting thought in your memory. 

Because it wasn’t Kuroo. 

And it dawns on you that in all these years your heart has never truly belonged; it was restless and scared, always searching for a place to call home–someone to call home. So you’ve been writing it out; pouring every heartache in between the lines of everything you ever wrote, ink spilled and pages torn apart, desperately trying to grasp a feeling you didn’t have a word for, in a dead language only you remember.

So much love to give and nowhere to put it down. 

Kuroo tips your chin up with his ice cream spoon, quietly calling out your name to draw you back out of your thoughts to him. The cicadas are singing their song and when his eyes meet yours, the world stops spinning for a brief moment. His gaze softens, his fingertips drawing absentminded patterns against around your ankles. 

“Tired? Wanna grab some taiyaki before we head home?” he asked in a soft tone, tracing the hem of your yukata. Kuroo always had a knack for reading the mood of everyone around him and you’re no exception. There are moments when he’s cheeky and laughs the loudest in a room, but it’s in the quiet where he lays his heart bare to you. In the glimpses of it you see a love that’s reserved for you only. 

(You hope you’ll get a taste of it in this lifetime.)

When you don’t reply, he takes your hand in his, bringing your fingertips to his lips. They’re cold from the ice cream too but warm up against your skin when he kisses them gently, his eyes falling shut as he does. You’re so close you can count his eyelashes, a thousand wishes sitting upon there.

“Let me into your world some time, okay?” Kuroo murmurs between two kisses against the pads of your fingers; not a grievance but a quiet plea, filled with hope and yearning.

His tongue darts out, licking bits of ice cream off your hand, and you melt under his touch like molasses, thinking about nothing but kissing him and kissing him and kissing him and–

・❥・FOUR

You’re writing dog-eared postcards by the beach. It’s the first time in three weeks you’re writing anything actually, but it’s not as scary as you thought it would be. Maybe because right now you’re huddled under a sun umbrella together with Kuroo, with towels wrapped around your soaked shoulders and bite-sized pieces of watermelon pushed between your lips. Breathing is a little easier these days.

“You’re gonna burn holes into the paper if you keep this up,” Kuroo chides with a small laugh and reaches out to smoothen down the furrow between your brows. You puff out your cheeks in mild protest but don’t push him away, tilting your head so he could get better access. His fingers trail a line from your brows over your closed eyelids to your cheek bones, down the side of your jaw until they tilt your chin up again. 

You don’t open your eyes just yet and wonder what kind of expression Kuroo wears right now. Is it full of love? Or sorrow? Would you see yourself mirrored in his honey-colored gaze? You never saw yourself through the eyes of a lover before. Part of you is afraid to look.

“Who are you writing to anyway?” Kuroo asks, tapping the tip of your nose to draw your attention to him. A smile curls up on his lips when you do, and he reaches behind him to grab the bottle of sunscreen you brought. He wordlessly gestures to you to turn around so he can reapply some after your dip in the ocean and you obey him without protest. 

(As if you’d miss a chance to feel Kuroo’s hands against the bare skin of your back anyway.)

“Someone special…?” he adds to his previous question when you don’t give him a reply straight away. He squeezes some of the sunscreen in his palms and starts spreading it across your upper back, his thumbs slipping underneath the straps of your bathing suit and kneading out some sore knots in the process.

You glance over your shoulder, meeting his gaze. 

“Kuroo, are you jealous?” you muse with a sly little smile which earns yourself a firm yet gentle squeeze at the nape of your neck, a silent warning. It makes you laugh and this time it’s Kuroo who huffs quietly. He doesn’t deny it though. 

“I prefer protective,” he mutters, grabbing your head and tilting it back when it snaps in his direction again at his words. He seems set on not looking you in the eyes while he admits that. “Don’t act so surprised. You’re important to me. Always have been.”

Warmth spreads throughout your body and it’s not from the sun up on the horizon but the one sitting behind you, his legs spread to make room for you. His hands glide across your seasalt skin, taking his sweet time to apply the sunscreen for you. You don’t rush him either, basking in this moment.

“I was writing a postcard to my brother,” you mumble eventually, and you swear you can feel Kuroo deflating behind you, a wave of relief washing over him. “I was wondering what to write to him. All the memories I made here so far were with you.”

Kuroo is quiet for a few heartbeats, his hands gliding down the curve of your spine in slow motion, leaving little fires everywhere in its wake. “Is that a bad thing?”

“No,” you admit and the implications of it make your cheeks feel hot. At least you could brush it off and tell yourself it’s just the summer heat, but you’re sure Kuroo already saw right through you. “No, I just didn’t expect it. I came here thinking I’d be very lonely. But it’s quite the opposite. I think I’m gonna miss you when I’m back in Tokyo.”

Kuroo hums softly in agreement, his breath fanning hot and heavy over your skin when he leans in close. Small water droplets trickle down from his damp hair down your back, startling you but he keeps you in place, his big hands gliding down from your shoulders to your sides. 

“You don’t have to miss me, you know?” he murmurs, the rasp in his voice ever present. “I’m just a call away. I’ll make time for you.” Then, quieter. “I want to keep seeing you. And I hope you want to see me, too.”

This time there’s a chaste kiss pressed to your shoulder before Kuroo gets up to grab some sour homemade lemonade from a beach vendor for you. It’s not like he’s running away, it’s just that there’s a wildfire sparked between you and neither of you knows how to tame it–or even remotely wants to. 

You end up napping together underneath the parasol, not taking the wandering sun into account, your thoughts too occupied by the unspoken words between you. In the late afternoon Kuroo wakes up with a mild sunburn; the shape of your hand imprinted on his back from where your fingertips spelled out confessions against his bare skin before the heat lulled both of you to sleep. Kuroo smells like sea salt and sunkissed skin and a promise long written in the stars. 

His gaze lingers on your lips. One day he’s gonna devour you–body, heart and soul. 

・❥・FIVE

During the last week of your stay, you come down with a mild fever. 

Kuroo is the first to notice, his big hand planted against your forehead and the back of your neck as he feels your temperature. You had made dinner plans but the frown on Kuroo’s face says otherwise. He’s looming in the doorframe, his keys and wallet in one hand and ready to leave, but now he ushers you back inside his home instead. 

“It’s just the summer heat and because I rushed here,” you insist with a small pout. You had been looking forward to tonight, to the restaurant up the hill with a balcony towards the ocean side. A picturesque view. Romantic even. You got all dolled up for it, too; your favorite shade of lipstick and a spritz of your perfume sprayed where you want to feel his lips against your skin. “It’s nothing. Really, I’m good to go.”

“You’re burning up,” Kuroo replies, his voice strained. You can tell that he’s holding back from chiding you, trying to keep his overprotective instincts in check but the worry is etched on his face. To think you walked across town in this state just to see him, be with him. Guilt is gnawing on him. With his hands on your shoulders he urges you to sit down on the small bench by the entrance before he kneels down in front of you, lifting one of your legs on his lap. 

Idle hands are taking their time to undo the delicate clasps of your heels and slipping them off your feet. You watch him quietly, wondering if anyone has ever been this gentle with you before. It’s a thought that makes you want to cry. 

“Don’t even think about apologizing.” 

Kuroo rises to his feet again and holds out a hand to help you up, one arm snaking around your waist to steady you. You’re not overly wobbly in your stance but you can’t deny that it feels good to be held and cared for. 

So you surrender and let Kuroo do what he does best: Caring. 

He leads you back to the bedroom (where everything smells even more like him, making you feel dizzy), fluffing up the pillow and the blanket before turning towards you again. His eyes are the warmest brown, and you catch a glimpse of yourself in them when he cups your face to feel your temperature again. 

“I’ll run to the conbini real quick and get you some cooling patches,” he says quietly. “Why don’t you change into something more comfortable meanwhile? I’ll be right back.”

You don’t want to change into something more comfortable, you want Kuroo to take one glance at you and fall head over heels completely, cupid’s arrow and all that, but you also have to admit that tonight might not be the night for that. With a sigh you nuzzle into his big palm, eyes flickering up at him. 

“If you say so,” you reply meekly, knowing there’s no use in putting up a fight against Kuroo. He gives you a lopsided smile before pulling you closer, his arms circling around your frame. You close your eyes, letting your head sink against his chest in defeat, his proximity soothing you. 

“Good girl,” he mumbles before brushing his lips over your temple, one big hand in the nape of your neck, keeping you in his proximity. It might not just be the fever that causes a surge of heat to run through your body. “I’ll help you out of it. Can you turn around for me?”

You obey, a small shuddered breath slipping past your lips when Kuroo’s hands run across your body, finding the zipper back and pulling it down in a painfully slow manner. It feels too close, too intimate; it’s a gesture reserved for lovers, yet it feels so right when Kuroo does it. You’re too occupied with your own thoughts to notice the shallow tremble of his hands, the small bop of his Adam’s apple when he swallows, the infatuating scent of you that has his head spinning. 

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he mutters, and everything inside you is melting, molded by his hands, sticking to him like syrup. Sweet doesn’t do his love justice. His infatuation with you runs deeper than you’d ever imagine, it’s making the composed part of his heart shatter, glimpses of your smile–the one that’s for him only–reflected in every shard of it. 

Kuroo leaves without kissing you; not because he doesn’t want to but because he can’t bring himself to do so when you’re burning up with a fever. When he returns you’re wearing one of his old shirts and nothing else, asleep and curled up on his side of the bed, one pillow hugged tightly. It’s a sight so domestic it makes his heart sing. He drops the plastic bag from the corner store and kneels down next to the bed, careful not to wake you up. Calloused fingertips trace your features, kind eyes adore all of you. 

You’re so loved. He’ll make sure you know just how much before you leave. 

・❥・ONE, AGAIN

The first rays of sunlight crawl through the closed blinds, illuminating the bedroom in golden hues. You’re not sure for how long you’ve been asleep, but it must have been half a day at least. Your body doesn’t hurt as bad as it did yesterday. It seems whatever bug had plagued you has vanished after a good night of rest. 

Blinking awake, still a little disoriented, you take in your surroundings. The soft and mussed bedding, water and painkillers on the nightstand, a half-eaten plate with cut fruit next to it. A soft noise draws your attention and when you peer over the mattress, you see Kuroo in deep slumber on a futon next to the bed. He’s sprawled out in his boxers on the floor, his shirt riding up and revealing glimpses of his stomach, the alluring V-shape as if sculpted from marble, thighs thick and enticing. His bed hair looks even more tussled than ever and you fight the urge to run a hand through it.

In the quietness of the morning you find yourself falling in love with Kuroo Tetsuro once again. 

“You’re ogling,” Kuroo mutters under his breath, cracking one eye open, his tone sleepy but amused. He stretches out like a big house cat, his movements sluggish, before he sits up cross-legged, all attention on you. You lean in closer so he can feel the temperature on your forehead and the side of your neck. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” you admit, putting a lopsided smile on his lips. “Just bummed out about our dinner reservation. I really wanted to try their dessert variation.”

Kuroo pinches your cheek, not enough to hurt but enough to chide you a little. “We still have a few more nights here. Can always go another time. Or next time we’re staying here.”

You raise an eyebrow, his smile mirrored on your face. You sit up on the bed too, hugging a pillow to your chest, now aware of how little you’re wearing. “Next time?”

“Next time when we’re visiting. Together.”

He rests his chin in his palm, warm eyes never leaving yours. Something in his gaze has changed and you can’t quite pinpoint it; all you know is that it makes you feel lightheaded and hot, your body remembering all the places Kuroo has touched you before and the ones still longing for his calloused fingertips. 

“I really wanna make you mine,” he confesses quietly and for a fleeting moment it seems as if he’s surprised how easy the words fell from his lips after all this time. “That is if you want to be mine.” 

A pillow hits Kuroo’s face, immediately followed by a warm body launching itself into his arms and pushing him onto his back. He lets out a husky laugh, surrendering with ease, his hands finding the back of your bare thighs and pulling you closer until you’re straddling him. When he opens his eyes again you’re leaning over him, your hands planted next to his head. For a moment neither of you says a word; you don’t have to with your hearts drumming out confessions in morse code. 

“Is that a yes?” Kuroo asks quietly, a flicker of vulnerability over his features. One hand comes up to your face, cradling it, as if to make sure you’re real, you’re here, you’re with him.

You’re his. 

Kuroo is warm and radiant, drawing you into his orbit. The answer to his question lies on the tip of your tongue and his lips part so easily when you let him close the distance between him and you. It’s a kiss to remember, every fiber of your body acutely aware of him, one hand resting on your nape, the other gripping your thigh. Your body spells out a thousand times yes, against his lips and the side of his neck, down to his collarbone before he pulls you back with a low curse under his breath to kiss your pretty mouth again. 

“I wanna be yours,” you murmur against his lips, between two heated kisses. You push a few stubborn and sweaty strands of hair out of his face, your smile widening. Kuroo’s pupils are blown out, your silhouette reflected in them, his one and only. “Forever maybe.” 

Kuroo grins, nipping at your bottom lip before pulling you impossibly closer onto his lap, only to flip you over onto your back in one swift motion and pinning you down underneath him. Your laughter echoes from the bedroom walls, turning into soft gasps and a quiet mewls when he trails kisses from your jaw down to your neck. 

“Forever it is then.”

a/n: hi dee my love!! thanks for letting me write the prompt of my dreams, i had a lot of fun with it! i hope i could make you yearn for kuroo a little because surely did i while writing. i wish we could spend summer days like these in a quaint beach town together, but until then we'll hold hands on the dash <3

gen taglist:

@kittygirl11829 @ottocre @kameyyy @kitsune-kita @nekozaki

@chaotic-neutral-ig @jodercriis @kentocalls @bakingcuriosity @cookielovesbook-akie

@manhattanstrawberry @megapteraurelia @estrnrea @iloveiwaizumihajime @crypt-0rchid

gen taglist is open! fill out this form to be added (or removed, no hard feelings) ♡

[yatsurinamikaze]

Now Playing: Swan and Shadow [Sakusa Kiyoomi x Miya! Reader]

Short chapters, regular angst, fluff and the MSBY chaos!

[now complete!]

Chapter 1: Battery Low

Chapter 2: Giraffe trying to roller-skate

Chapter 3: Did you see that?!

Chapter 4: Tragic ballerinas in distress

Chapter 5: Nothing more

Chapter 6: The Miya Law

Chapter 7: Shinjiro Arakawa

Chapter 8: I dont care

Chapter 9: He hates it that he wants you

Chapter 10: Somethin's off

Chapter 11: Ride back home

Chapter 12: Cant do nothin'

Chapter 13: Hey

Chapter 14: Capitalism, baby ;)

Chapter 15: Yearning

Chapter 16: Do not enter without a smile

Chapter 17: Launch Party

part one: before part two: during extra (mdni) part three: after

Chapter 18: How you lose it all

Chapter 19: The fuck is going on?

Chapter 20: Plastic baggie with ice

Finale: For you

(epilogue)

[kenmasssperson]

Any chance I could request a soulmate au?

If possible, a hurt comfort / angst with a happy ending.

Maybe reader thinks they can't be together for one reason or another, and he has to pursue the reader to convince them that they're meant to be.

Akaashi, Kageyama, Sugawara, or Iwaizumi please, thank you! :)

Sure, I'll try my best! I know for some it works like you see in black and white until meeting your soulmate, but idk how they'd learn the colors...? Anyways.

Tags: Iwaizumi x reader, fluff, angst with happy ending, jealousy, insecurity, Oikawa, soulmate au.

Synopsis: In a world where everyone has a soulmate, a person destined to love you until forever falls apart, what happens when you can't be with who is supossed to be your parner for life?

A soft sigh escaped your lips when you realized you'd have to endure the seventh third-wheeling session of the week.

Watching your friends being all lovey-dovey with each other wasn't something you particulary enjoyed. Don't get it wrong, you were happy for them and glad they had found their soulmates and everything had gone okay, but being ignored is a horrendous feeling that usually leads to feeling undeserving of the attention you aren't recieving.

So even if your friends spent whole hang outs making out and giggling while they whispered in their lover's ears, completely leaving you out, you never protested.

Your friends had apologized some times, promising over and over they'd try to include and acknowledge you more, but by the end of the day they were always blissfully ignoring your existence.

You comforted yourself with the fact that you knew you had a soulmate. The thought someone out there was perfect for you and you were perfect for them was enough to keep you going everytime.

Someone who was as part as you as your own self.

Someone who you shared your essence with, your very soul.

Someone who was waiting to meet you as eagerly as you waited to meet them. Or so you hoped.

But things didn't go like you thought.

__________________Ƹ̵̡⁠Ӝ̵̨̄⁠Ʒ__________________

Hajime Iwaizumi was having another tough day.

To be fair, Oikawa was being twice as annoying as always, and the nerves for the upcoming volleyball match were turning him into a stress-mess.

Plus, his soul mark had started to feel...kinda strange.

Iwaizumi liked to stare at it from time to time. Sometimes when he was alone in his room, or after a match, or whenever life, stress, anger and feelings got too much, he liked to just genuinely see it.

He would sit by himself, roll his sleeve up and pay close attention to the intrincate pattern etched on the underside of his wrist.

Trace the lines, curves and swirls with the tips of his fingers, with only careful and soft touches, as if he feared it would fade away.

But Hajime knew it wouldn't.

That was the mark he shared with his soulmate, wherever they were. The design of their souls, printed on their skins since they were born and staying even after death.

Souls can't divide.

Because your soul doesn't die with your physical form. And neither does the connection that ties you to that special person.

Souls dance among other people's souls, mixing, touching, pulling away and connecting us, searching for their other half.

And when they find it, they collide and fuse, becoming one.

That's why, when Iwaizumi would space out staring at the mark in the solace of privacy, he would always wonder how long would it take to find you.

If he only knew.

__________________Ƹ̵̡⁠Ӝ̵̨̄⁠Ʒ__________________

"It's not fair you get all the attention!"

"That's because I'm more awesome"

Oikawa's cocky remark earned him a slap in the back of the head from Hajime's part and some sighs from their teammates, who knew the thing would only escalate from there.

They were warming up, about to play one of their most important matches.

The squeak of the shoes on the wooden planks and the sound of multiple volleyballs being mersilessly hit and slammed against the floor flooded the gymnasium.

People whispered and chatted as they rushed to get seats, some fangirls screamed and a new born cried while his mother tried to desperatedly soothe them.

Layers and layers of noise, unheard stories, adoring praise, murmurs, and the calls for familiar faces in the crowd, enveloping Iwaizumi welcomingly.

His gaze roamed the stands, passing by faces of kids, adults and old people, all here to see them play, to see him play...

Until he locked eyes with you.

It was completely unexpected, the way your stares met like pulled by some kind of strange magnet.

And then you felt it. And he felt it too.

That tingling sensation that run his soul mark up and down and then up again, electrifying and ticklish.

And the world faded away.

The noise, the lights, the yells and slams and squeaks. It was just you and him.

Him and you, feeling like the physical distance between you wasn't real, wasn't as far as it seemed.

And you both knew it. You knew he'd be yours, and he knew you'd be his.

Forever.

And then the magical moment broke with the loud whistle signaling the start of the match.

__________________Ƹ̵̡⁠Ӝ̵̨̄⁠Ʒ__________________

"Please" Oikawa begged, pushing the bouquet of roses into Hajime with insistance.

"No" he denied in a determined tone, brows furrowed and arms crossed over his chest.

Oikawa's chocolate brown eyes pleaded with him, full of desperation as he tried to get his best friend to deliver the flowers and the heart shaped box of chocolate to the girl Tooru was currently in a situation-ship with.

He had meant to give them himself, but coach was calling him for an interview and Oikawa's girl was just about to leave the stadium because she was running late to greet her family at the airport.

So Oikawa had no way of accepting the interview and delivering the gifts at the same time. His only solution was that Hajime accepted bringing the things to her in his place while Tooru attended fame matters.

"Alright." Iwaizumi grumbled in the end, "But you owe me"

Oikawa lit up, nodding eagerly before shoving the bouquet and chocolates into his best friend's arms and sprinting off.

Iwaizumi sighed, furrowing his brows as he started to make his way up up the stands, sorting throught the crowd with "sorry"s and "excuse me"s, ignoring the curious looks and surprised whispers to see him holding such romantical items.

"who was the lucky girl?" People wondered, their eyes trailing on him, following his way higher and higher until he reached the spot where Asami stood, her eyes roaming the place in search of Oikawa as she anxiously tapped her fingers on her lap and checked her watch.

"Asami-san" Iwaizumi called, making the girl turn around to face him, her furrowed brows softening.

"Yeah?" She asked, confusedly eyeing the roses and the heart shaped box, praying Iwaizumi would not confess to her.

"Trashikawa had to run to catch an interview so he asked me to deliver this" he stepped closer and handed her the roses and chocolate.

Asami's eyes widened and her mouth parted slightly in surprise, touched by the gesture, "He's so sweet" she cooed, "Thank you so much, Iwa-chan" she said, gazing up at him.

"You're welcome" he sighed, nodding, and turned his face to the side when she leaned to smell the roses with a love-sick expression, feeling like it was a moment Oikawa should be witnessing, not him.

And when his eyes gazed in the other direction, he was met with a surprised pair of eyes.

Your eyes.

The surprise quickly melted into hurt and his own surprise melted into horror.

You, his soulmate, had just watched him give flowers and chocolate to some random girl.

This wasn't how either of you expected your first meeting to be.

You stared like in trance, your stomach churning and your chest tightening, eyes lingering on her long enough to make insecurity and jealous claw at you.

Of course.

Of course this would happen to you. Not even your soulmate wanted you, and who could blame him?

He was so fine, and the girl just in front of him was so pretty. With perfect, long, shiny hair, gorgeous green eyes and the most striking smile.

So effortlessly flawless, she was.

How could you compare to her?

You weren't special in any way, you didn't stand out in crowds, didn't light up places with your mere presence, couldn't un bring a smile to people's faces with a few sweet words.

Truth is, you couldn't compare.

So you run away.

__________________Ƹ̵̡⁠Ӝ̵̨̄⁠Ʒ__________________

Iwaizumi knew he messed up.

Well, it wasn't enterely his fault, was it? It was Trashikawa's fault.

He had rushed out the gymnasium, praying to catch a glimpse of your hair, of your clothes... A way to get to you.

Where were you? God, why did these things only happen to him?

He finally found you at the back of the building, resting your back against the wall, knees to your chest. Your eyes were closed, as if you were trying to turn the world out.

"Hey..." He said hesitantly, sitting down in front of you.

You furrowed your brows and gazed away, wiping the tears that threatened to fall from your eyes, "go away, please"

He shook his head, "I know what you saw, but it's not like you think..."

"It's alright, really. You don't have to explain it it to me. We are not even dating" you assured.

He wished you'd look at him, "No, really. A friend of mine asked me to give those things to his... Almost girlfriend. I was just delivering. I promise..."

He knew how fake it must have sounded to you.

"Please, believe me. I've been waiting for you all these years, i never even dated anyone before. I've wanted to meet you so bad..." He said gently, the furrow of his brows softening as he hesitantly reached for your hand, his thumb caressing the back of it.

"You can have anyone you want" you said, eyes teary as you looked at him, all the years of insecurity washing over you "Why would you wanna be with me? I'm nothing special..."

He was taken aback, surprised you'd say something like that, "What?"

He let out a sigh and took your wrist gently, lifting it between you two so you could see the soul mark. He lifted his own and held it up besides yours.

"We are soulmates" he said, "There's no one i'd like to be with besides you"

His words were so soft and honest.

It was true he didn't know you yet, but he was sure he would be so in love with you.

The way you moved, the way you talked, how expressive your eyes were. He loved everything about you already, everything pulled him in.

"I think you're the most special person I'll ever meet" Iwaizumi said, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, "So please, give us a chance"

You felt butterflies erupt in your stomach at his words and gestures. He looked so tough and intimidating, but yet he was being so sweet.

You couldn't have wished for someone more perfect to share your soul with, and you couldn't wait to get to really know him, to fall in love with him.

And then, when your eyes met again, you two were sure the other was who you'd want to spend the rest of your life with.

A.n: Soorryy it took so loongg!! I really don't like how i wrote it, and I had to re-write it because it got erased, it was really frustrating... But i hope you like it!!

[milktei]

Homecoming

Ushijima Wakatoshi x gn!reader

Genre: Sickfic, hurt comfort

Warnings: Slight manga spoilers

Requests: Closed*

a/n: hello hello! (is acting like i haven’t been gone for forever), can you believe i found this just sitting on a random note in my phone 90% done???? i literally wrote this over a year ago and never found the motivation to finish it ;-; due to its age toshi might be a bit ooc.

anyways, i’m not entirely back yet but i keep seeing lovely comments and reblogs that just make me want to start writing again ;-; maybe with the haikyuu movie being released soon my motivation will amp back up. ALSO i’m gonna try to start reblogging regularly again

*request box is still technically “closed” but if anyone has some genshin or *ahem* Baldurs gate 3 requests, i may be inclined to write if they pique my interest :)

enjoy!

If there was one thing that you knew for an absolute fact. it would be that volleyball would always be his main priority.

You knew this well before you started dating him, it was part of the reason you refused to admit your true feelings for him. You refused to take him away from his first love. Something that he was so visibly passionate about.

So you stayed on the sidelines, watching wistfully as the boy you had a crush on rose higher and higher, while you stood on the ground looking up in awe. This was comfortable, you were content with just watching and admiring. It was all you thought you were able to do.

Until he had asked you out first.

You had genuinely thought that Tendou was joking when he had told you that the Ushijima Wakatoshi saw you as anything more than one of the team’s managers.

His face was always devoid of emotion. Your interactions were limited to him nodding in thanks as you gave him a towel or water bottle, or him humming in acknowledgment as you relayed to him the notes you took after the most recent practice match.

And yet you found yourself standing in front of him, just outside the gym after practice, heart absolutely racing as he asked you out on a date.

Your first date was awkward to say the least. Having never spoken outside of club activities, you found it hard to keep a conversation flowing as you two sat in a cafe sipping your drinks.

He had walked you back to your dorm that day, but before you could go in, he had grabbed your hand.

You stared in shock at the large hand enveloping yours, “Ushijima?”

Suddenly, you felt a tiny gust of wind and a slight pressure against your forehead. You could only stammer dumbly as you realized the pressure was his lips.

He pulled away after a moment. He was heavily avoiding eye contact and turned his head to the side, but you could see the tips of his ears turning red.

“I don’t know much when it comes to this stuff. But I know I would like to go out again… if that’s okay with you of course.”

You gaped at the boy in front of you “I- um we…” you took a deep breath to centre yourself and smiled “Yes I would like to go out with you again Ushijima.”

Your relationship progressed quite fast after that. More dates, hanging out with him and Tendou in their dorm.

You were there for everything, cheering him on during games, you were the first person he would seek out when he won, you comforted him after a loss.

Your relationship lasted through high school and even university. It wasn’t long before you two ended up moving in together.

When Wakatoshi found his place with the Schweiden Adlers you were ecstatic. You had also just landed a great job and it felt like your two were simply cruising through life with ease.

Unfortunately your seemingly perfect life would never last forever.

Being in the v-league, volleyball seemed to fill his schedule more now than ever. Constant practice, games outside of the city even in other countries sometimes.

You hardly saw Ushijima anymore despite living with him. Even when you did, he was tired or just about to leave for practice.

It felt like you were pushed back into the sidelines. Watching hopelessly as he rose higher and higher, to places where you could not reach. It was no longer comfortable, you could no longer look in awe, but in despair as you watch him slip from the already loose grasp you had on him.

You couldn’t even remember the last time you went on a date. Every time you mentioned doing something in his free time he had brushed you off.

Which led you to now.

You woke up to an empty bed yet again. It was your day off so you weren’t rushing to get out of bed.

Yet you felt off.

The dryness in your mouth and throat is what you felt first. Then how runny your nose was. Finally, the cold sweat you were experiencing.

You were definitely sick.

You groaned to yourself and pulled the blanket to your chin. Hoping that you could possibly sleep it off.

Yet your efforts were in vain. After what felt like hours of trying to fall back asleep you realized that you were just going to feel even more miserable without anything to eat or at least drink.

You pushed yourself up onto your elbows and immediately regretted it. The world spun around you and your entire body shook. You collapsed back onto your pillow and panted at the exertion it took.

As you caught your breath you turned your head towards your bedside table, where your phone sat charging.

Weakly, you lifted your arm and with a bit of effort you were able to grab your phone. As it turned on you winced at how bright the screen was and with bleary eyes you managed to open your contacts.

The words seemed to blend together as you searched through your contacts, you nearly sobbed in relief as your eyes finally focused on the name of your best friend.

You clicked the call button and dropped you hand to beside your ear, preparing for the way your throat would undoubtedly hurt as you spoke.

After a couple rings you heard the person on the other side pick up and you quickly began speaking, desperate to get them to come quickly so that you could hopefully feel better.

“Hey, I’m sorry if you’re busy but do you think you can bring me some drinks and maybe food? i’m not feeling the best and I don’t know if I can get up at all.”

The person on the other end of the phone began talking but you could barely decipher it as your head spun and your body shivered despite how warm you were.

“-/n….y/n?”

You froze at the deep voice on the other side of the phone. You pulled away an looked at the screen, nearly breaking down at the sight of Wakatoshi’s name instead of your friends. Quickly you put it back against your ear

“Ah I’m sorry Toshi. I meant to call a friend you’re probably busy you don’t have to come back home.” you said quickly, actually sitting up as you rambled nervously, reprimanding yourself for interrupting his practice.

You had called and texted him during practice before. At one point he was fine with it, responding during breaks or calling you back once practice had finished. But lately you had been greeted with one worded responses, or you were just ignored.

One time you even tried to pry once he got home from practice, asking him about his odd lack of response. That day, he had turned to glare at you.

“I’m busy y/n. I don’t have time for things like that.”

“You’re sick?” your thoughts were interrupted by his voice again. He used a tone much gentler than the one he had used that day.

“A little bit, nothing to worry about I can just call-“ you cut yourself off with a harsh cough, unable to hold back the whimper as your throat throbbed in protest.

“I’m coming home.”

Whether from his words or the fever you couldn’t tell, but a chill ran down your spine

“N-no toshi you don’t have to I’ll be fine don’t leave practice just because of me”

“I’ll stop by the store for some ingredients don’t get out of bed.”

And with that the call ended. Slowly, you took the phone away from your ear and looked at it in shock. He was leaving practice early. Something you weren’t aware he was willing to ever do.

At least not recently.

Only when the shock settled, did you realize just how much your body was protesting you sitting up. So, despite your better judgment, you lied back down, waiting in nervous anticipation for him to come home.

What might have been half an hour felt like forever as you laid in bed. Shivering underneath the comforter despite sweating profusely, rubbing your nose raw from having to blow it constantly, all whilst it felt like you were spinning.

In your haze you didn’t even hear the front door or you bedroom door open. How could you when your body demanded all the attention you had?

Wakatoshi stood frozen in the doorway, a plastic bag hanging off his arm, silent as he took in the state you were in.

How hadn’t he noticed before he left? you couldn’t have possibly entered this state within the couple of hours he was gone.

He felt a tug of unease pull at his heart and willed himself to walk up to you.

“y/n,” he called softly. sitting on your side of the bed.

You flinched at the sound of his voice not knowing he was in the room. Slowly, you opened your eyes and winced at the light in the room.

“Toshi,” you croaked pathetically.

His face softened and he brushed your damp hair away from your face, frowning when he felt how warm your forehead was.

“Hey,” he greeted, he lifted a hand and that’s when you saw a thermometer from the medicine cabinet in his hand “can you open your mouth please?“

Weakly, you did as he asked, and as it sat in your mouth, he quickly walked towards the master bathroom. Mumbling something about a towel.

You didn’t hear him however as you turned your head back towards the ceiling and already felt your eyes drooping again.

You only came to when you felt something cool against your forehead, you opened your eyes to see Toshi looking down at you with furrowed eyebrows. The thermometer beeped and when he looked at the reading the crease deepened.

Toshi disappeared for a moment again, making his presence known when he began to take the comforter off of you.

You whined as he did so, shivering even harder as air hit your body. You even sat up to try and grab it back.

“‘s cold toshi,” you slurred.

He was quick to place a thinner sheet on top of you “I know dear, but we have to get your body temperature down.”

As you pulled the blanket closer Wakatoshi opened the bag he brought with him. You heard the rattle of a pill container and then the crack of a bottle being opened. Wakatoshi turned to you and held out some medicine and water.

You reached out a shaky hand to take the medicine, placing the pill in your mouth. Wakatoshi helped you hold the bottle, noting how weak your arms were.

You sighed in temporary relief when you finished drinking, glad that your mouth felt less dry.

Wakatoshi allowed a small relieved smile to cross his face and he quickly helped you lay back down.

“I’ll make you some food, stay here.”

Once he was sure you were comfortable he made his way to the kitchen quickly getting his ingredients ready.

It was only when he was midway through washing some rice when he took a moment to pause.

When was the last time he had cooked for you?

Wakatoshi continued his task albeit feeling guilty thinking about how you’ve been the one cooking and eating dinner alone for some time now. It used to be a shared responsibility. Now he usually came home late so you would put a plate aside for him or he would go out to eat with the team.

He was still deep in though as he pushed the bedroom door open with his back, a tray consisting of a bowl of rice porridge and a cup of tea left a trail small trail of steam as he walked.

You were asleep but woke easily at the sound of his footsteps. It took a moment for your eyes to focus on him.

He gestured with the tray, “Do you think you can eat?”

You looked at the food, perfectly plated and garnished, your mouth watering slightly at the savoury smell.

“I think so. At least a little bit.”

He helped you sit up, and when he saw the weakness still in your arms he fed you himself.

You hummed contently at the first bite of food. You had missed this more than you thought you did.

After about half the bowl was done and your tea finished, you signalled that you stomached as much as your body would allow. Now with your body temperature having gone down and your stomach full you could feel yourself becoming less and less loopy. You watched quietly as he put the tray on the bedside table. When he was finished with that, he sat still on the bed and stared at the wall.

You looked at his face, despite it deceptively lacking emotion, you knew better than anyone else that something was bothering him.

However before you could ask he began to speak

“Why wasn’t I the first person you contacted when you realized that you were sick?”

You froze, looking down in your lap fiddling wIth a loose thread in the blanket.

“…Well…you’ve been busy as of late….I didn’t think it was important enough to take you out of practice. Someone less busy would have probably been willing to come.”

He slowly turned to face you. “You didn’t think that your wellbeing was important enough?”

You shrugged, “Well volleyball is always going to be your biggest priority. I’m just sick it’ll pass.”

Obvious distress crossed Ushijima’s face “y/n, you are my main priority.”

You paused. Perhaps it was time to tell him how you were really feeling instead of dancing around the subject.

“…It hasn’t felt that way lately.” you say hesitantly, your voice small.

Wakatoshi faltered. You kept looking down, almost scared to look him in the eye.

“I was content with that at first, your love of volleyball is admirable, it’s was drew me to you at first. But it always made you seem unattainable. When you asked me on that date all those years ago I was over the moon,” you paused to clear your throat huffing in annoyance as your sickness interrupted you.

“But I can only endure so much Toshi. Nowadays it feels like your going where I can’t reach. You’re always busy, which is understandable for a professional athlete… I just wish it wasn’t to the point where I’m worried about your reaction if I were to try to talk to you.”

There was a shift in the mattress. Then familiar arms that you had been longing for wrapped tightly around you.

“Toshi you’re gonna get sick.”

“It’s fine,”

“but-“

“I’m sorry y/n.”

you stiffened but stayed quiet to let him speak.

“You’ve done so much for me without complaint and I have done so little in return. i’m sorry for letting it get to this point. It took you getting this sick for me to realize.”

A stormy look crossed his face, “I… I’ve been struggling to balance work and home, in return I’ve been neglecting you and letting how tired I am influence my reactions. you don’t deserve that. you are my first priority y/n, I don’t know what I would do without you.”

You sniffled and wiped a tear that fell from your face. You didn’t even know you were crying. For a man usually so quiet and stoic, he always knew what to say to you when he needed to. It was always so endearing to you.

“If I had known you were going to take it this well I would’ve said something earlier,” you say softly.

He smiles sadly, “I haven’t been making it seem that way hmm?”

You shake you’re head but smile back, “no”

He sighs to himself but places a gentle kiss against your forehead much like how he did all those years ago. Your eyes flutter shut and you make let out a pleased sigh. You were much more comfortable than you were when you first woke up.

“We’ll talk more once you get better. I promise,” He eventually says. holding you a bit closer to him.

You nodded and snuggled closer to his chest. While it wasn’t an immediate fix, it was a start.

“Sounds good to me Toshi.”

He smiled down at you “Sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

[withered-primrose]

𝗟𝗨𝗖𝗞𝗬

synopsis: how it would be like when it was becoming more than platonic with your bestfriend, akaashi.

pairing: akaashi keiji x reader

content: friends to lovers trope, soft fluff romance, mixed canon & headcanon akaashi, canon au, akaashi fell first and he fell harder, inspired by the song lucky by jason mraz.

words: 1,391

Akaashi Keiji was the type of guy to keep his composure. He'd be described as someone reserved, thoughtful, and some might even say poise.

He wasn't the type of guy to brood over trivial things. He liked his life in order, his thoughts organized like the lines on a court.

However, something is nagging him lately.

It started small, and he tried to brush it off. It was during lunch break, when he messaged you to go ahead and eat without him as he had to attend a meeting for their volleyball club.

Being a good friend you are, you decide not to eat your meal until Akaashi arrives, eventually settling down with reading a book.

The book has philosophical genre contents in it—a book that Akaashi recommended to you a week ago.

Then Akaashi didn't know how it happened;

His world somehow stopped when he arrived at the usual spot where you both eat. When he saw you reading the book he suggested, all noise around him suddenly went to silence. His focus was only on how serious your face is while reading, and how your fingers flip the pages.

"It's almost too cliché," he thought to himself. So, he shrugged, thinking it's probably just the remaining ecstatic he felt due to the good news of their coach.

Yet, as if his body is separated from his mind, he started doing gestures towards you that he hasn't even done before.

For example, he always had the need to walk you home after school. You'd ask why, but of course, Akaashi would cover it up with something like, "Can't I catch up with my friend anymore?" or “I just insist in doing so.”

Another example was this one time when he managed to get you a free ticket in their volleyball match for the regional playoffs.

He tried his best to dismiss it.

Afterall, he's not the type of guy to ponder for so long with these kinds of things. He must be composed and calm.

But Akaashi knew he's in deep trouble when he felt his eye twitch when he heard you laughing over a joke Bokuto made.

He watched the both of you from afar: Bokuto showing something that he's proud of to you, as you clap your hands with glee.

He should be happy that you've done something to get Bokuto out of his slump. Yet, somehow, there's this sour and bitter feeling that even his tongue can taste.

Akaashi snapped back to reality when he heard a teasing laugh from his teammate, "Jealous, vice capt'n?" Konoha asked sarcastically, as he draped his arm over Akaashi's shoulder.

"Jealous?" He asked himself through his thoughts. Is that really the right word to describe the uneasy feeling he has?

Akaashi wasn't the type to overthink—but for you to meddle in his thoughts like crazy, he knew it was something he can't escape.

You and Akaashi have been friends since middle school. The both of you got along through niche interests and gradually started to become close ever since.

You would agree that he is indeed as others would say he is, but it became agree to disagree.

Perhaps he is too reserved for others and displays little to no emotions. But towards you? No matter how light or tough his day had been, he'd greet you with a soft, closed-lip smile.

He'd laugh with you over inside jokes you both made, he'd spend countless hours with you as he listens to your thoughts about the book he recommended, he'd even take you home even if the both of you are a train stop apart.

But you weren't sure how it started. Maybe it was that one time when you finally had free time to attend one of their matches.

When Bokuto was having one of his mood swings, you watched how Akaashi quickly handled him. Watching that scene from the bleachers made your stomach turn a little—the good kind. He may be blunt at some times, but you admire him for how he cares for his friends.

Perhaps that was the moment you started to have a hint of your developing feelings towards Akaashi.

However, unlike him, you didn't brush it off. In fact, you got in too deep with your thoughts.

Then again, you tried to deny it. Regardless of how he acts towards you, you know that Akaashi is the type of guy to be serious. He wouldn't waste his time over distractions like this. So, you thought it's silly.

You were almost about to give up on your thoughts, until the one time when you were dozing off in your seat. You went back to your senses when a ballpen was placed in front of you.

The ballpen had a cute animal design on it. Your favorite animal, specifically.

You looked up at Akaashi, "What's this for?"

"Nothing. I just remembered you looking at it back then when we were on our way home. I passed by the same stationery shop yesterday and thought I'd buy it for you," He said in his usual tone.

There was also this one time when he placed a snack in front of you. As per usual, you were about to ask him why. But this time, he beat you to it.

"Just eat," Akaashi said before he munched his food.

You remember mentioning how you like this specific snack to Akaashi once. The snack got quite famous, so it was almost sold out in every convenience store. You were amazed that Akaashi got a hold of it.

Looking at the snack while you hold it, it was when you truly realized and noticed the changes in Akaashi;

How his voice changes when he talks to you, the change of his gaze when he looks at you, and how his actions towards you have changed.

You observe Akaashi in front of you. He was saying something about his starting interest in bonsai plants, but you couldn't focus. You just smiled at him, in defeat that you can't deny or turn back anymore.

Both feelings are still left unsaid; you were afraid that you probably misunderstood everything and Akaashi was unsure of the words he wants to convey.

So here you both are, sitting besides each other on the swing of a nearby park. You clutch the jacket Akaashi gave you as the evening breeze is rather cold and windy.

You could only hear cricket noise until he said, "I'd like to give you something."

You look at him, "What is it?"

He pulled out a book from his bag, then he hands it to you. You analyzed the book in your hand, "Isn't this your favorite?" you asked with a sheepish smile.

Akaashi didn't answer, so you're not sure what he wants you to do with the book. You read it, of course—but why?

When you noticed a bookmark hanging out of the book, you opened it to that specific page. Immediately, your eyes read the quotation that's been highlighted:

"The true measure of a person's life lies not in grand gestures, but in the quiet moments when their happiness becomes as important as your own."

Akaashi brushes away strands of your hair and he tucks it behind your ear. You look up at him once again, with a puzzled but knowing expression.

He gives you his usual smile, "It's one of my favorite passages," his voice is soft, his gaze, too. His hand keeps its gentle hold on your face.

Akaashi Keiji isn't the type of guy to lose his cool. But for you? He'll allow himself to melt.

Warmth immediately rushed into your face, but you try keep up with his composure, so you put your hand on top of his.

You're lucky it's your friend you've fallen into; and what makes you luckier is that it's Akaashi Keiji.

The next day at school, you and Akaashi walk in with hands intertwined. When the two of you bumped into Bokuto, you excitedly told him about your new relationship with Akaashi.

You thought Bokuto would be surprised, shocked, or even flash his big smile. However, he only looks at the both of you with his arms crossed, head tilted to the side, and his eyebrow raised,

“I kind of thought you two were already together before?"

© withered-primrose, 2025

[nowoyas]

I don't think we can put this in the sports column (NSFW) - karasuno/reader

m.list - read on ao3

A/N: wrote this months ago. didn't edit it for ages bc I thought it would suck to edit. it didn't suck to edit it fucking rocked and I'm never questioning myself again hell yeah

Summary: You infiltrate Karasuno's volleyball club for the university paper and take to bed a few of the rumors you've heard.

Warnings: smut, orgy/gangbang, oral sex, fingering, handjobs, double penetration, spitroasting, creampies, reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, uhhhhh marking, exhibitionism, accidental voyeurism, overstimulation, light dom/sub stuff (submissive reader), uhhhhhh there's. there's a lot going on here guys. I wasn't fucking around when I said karasuno gangbang.

Word count: ~7000

It’s the night before your first game since you started this little investigation, and you are pressed flat against the wall outside the gym, a hand firm against your mouth in a desperate attempt to not make a noise.

There’d been rumors, sure. And yeah, you were here to investigate those rumors.

Karasuno is such a good team. They’ve gotta be doing some crazy shit to be that close and play that well, though.

That had been the… family-friendly version of the rumors. The more salacious of them had gone into detail you’d blushed too hard to repeat—images of working out issues with clothes off and loud gasps and—

Okay, chill. You’re a journalist. This is nothing.

(Okay, you’re a journalism major, technically speaking. But you need to get used to these things. It’s not like you’ve never had sex before.)

You had enmeshed yourself in the Karasuno University volleyball team after picking up the scent of those rumors about a month ago. Most of the rumors, you thought, were too stupid to entertain. It’s not like they were actually partaking in witchcraft to win games. That would be completely stupid. You assumed, honestly, that they had just clicked. Yeah, it didn’t really seem like everyone got along—the freshmen were constantly at each other’s throats, the captain had his hands full reigning in half the team comprised of spitfires, and there was at least one guy who seemed to believe his job on the team was to piss off as many of his teammates as possible. The only ones safe seemed to be the seniors and the girls, of which there were three if you counted yourself.

So far, it had seemed to be that there was no version of the rumor that was true—no, there were no blood sacrifices, yes, they did sometimes sleep, no, there were no crazy orgies in place to encourage team bonding, and no, they did not seem to be some sort of micro-cult. Disappointing for your article though it was, they had welcomed you in with almost no resistance, and you had found nothing out of the ordinary. They were just… normal athletes. Maybe a bit more passionate than most, but… normal.

Except. Except.

Here you are, the night before they have a match, listening to wet squelches and distinct slaps and what is undoubtedly moaning, unable to figure out exactly who the moans are coming from except that there’s definitely more than two people involved in whatever’s happening inside that gym, and fighting back the urge to peek through the cracked door and figure out exactly what the fuck is going on. (Or, uh, who the fuck is getting it on.)

Fuck. Are they seriously… seriously fucking in the gym right now?

There’s the burning shame of having caught them. The absolute mortification of knowing that you’re sitting there listening to them have sex with reckless abandon. You should be uncomfortable, but instead, you catch yourself squeezing your thighs together.

A particularly loud moan catches you off guard, and you jerk your finger from your mouth—when had you started biting it to keep quiet?—and flee while you still have the chance.

(As far as anyone else is concerned, when you’re safe within the confines of your single-person dorm room, there’s no proof to say that you snaked a hand down your pants, still thinking of that brightly-lit gym, of the idea of having been caught listening to them, of being pulled inside and—

There’s no proof.)

~

The day-to-day doesn’t change. You don’t let it. The guys played their match, and they won, and it was great. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t smiling as they won, and your report for the sports column of the university paper was more than glowing. They’re a really fun team to watch, more so now that you know them—even if you’re now taking every effort in your head to not act like a total freak around them.

Honestly, you even think you're doing a pretty good job of it. You pretended not to notice the smell in the gym the morning after The Event—faint though it was, there was undeniably the hint of sex still in the air—you forced down any errant thoughts around them, and you didn't breathe so much as a word to anyone about it. What does it matter if they're having orgies or whatever the night before a game? What does it matter at all?

Luckily, you spend more time talking to the girls than anything—Shimizu and Yachi are becoming fast friends with you, you think out of an eagerness to have another girl around in a large group of guys. They're easier to talk to, too, since you don't recall hearing any particularly feminine moans during The Event. It's possible they have no idea. Possible that they, too, think things are normal. (Or else, they're the source of the orgy rumors, but neither seems much like the type.) They tell you innocuous little things about the team, like that time Hinata and Kageyama were so focused on their little rivalry that they ran clear to the next town before realizing they'd lost the rest of the team, and you get caught up in much-needed girl talk when you go out to eat together. Little debates on birth control, on dating, on whether or not that one psych professor can get it.

By the time the next game rolls around, you've nearly re-assimilated into the concept of a normal life. It’s really not a big deal, anyways—people have sex. It’s normal.

“Well, [name],” Daichi says towards the end of practice one day, about a week before. “You were only going to be here for a few weeks, right? How have you liked it?”

You nod, polite smile decorating your lips. “It’s been really enjoyable! It’s a bit sad that I won’t be around after the next game, honestly. You guys are really fun to be around.”

“Hmm?” Tsukishima says, an eyebrow raised your way. At some point, you seem to have captured the attention of everyone in the room, though you’re not quite sure what you did. You can sense their eyes on you though—a few of the more open guys stare, a few of the more polite ones glance out of the corners of their eyes. You’re stuck in the spotlight as Tsukishima takes a step towards you.

Why does one step suddenly feel so dangerous?

“You know, I’m sure no one here would stop you if you decided to stay.”

Yeah, your blood’s running cold. You get a firm grip on your brain in hopes of not horribly misinterpreting everything that’s going on, but—

“You confirmed the information you were looking for, right? Two weeks ago, hanging around outside the gym before the game.”

Ah.

Your face isn’t sure whether it wants to go pale or erupt in a furious blush. You, for your part, scramble for an answer. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t? Are you that dense, or are you lying to us?”

A tiny squeak passes from your throat. “W-what’re you—“

“I was expecting something to show up in the school paper by now, but instead we just got a glowing column about how well we played the next day. Not a word of it. Why is that?”

“Oi, Tsukishima, aren’t you laying it on a bit thick?” one of the others says.

“It’s fine,” he replies, looking down at you as you look down at the floor. “Well, [name]? I’m waiting, Miss Reporter.”

The words burn a path down to your crotch, and you are absolutely not losing here, not now. You’ve just decided that. You meet his eye with a determined look. “I run the sports column, not the gossip column, Tsukishima. It hardly matters to me what you guys are getting up to—“

“You’re blushing, though. And you had to have heard before getting wrapped up in this, right? I’m comfortable speaking for everyone here when I say you can really find out the truth, if you want.”

“H-huh?”

He’s boxed you in, your back hitting the wall. Nowhere to run.

“What do you say? Wanna become an honorary member of the volleyball club?”

A sound sort of reminiscent of a boiling kettle leaves you, and you shove him away before you register it. “P-please give me time to think about it!”

A heavy silence.

“Alright, that’s enough. Let’s try not to scare the poor girl, yeah?” Suga says. He places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “If she wants to, she wants to, and if she doesn’t, she doesn’t. [name], if you wanna go for the day, you can.”

“I, um…”

He nods and guides you towards the door. Before you can properly escape, he leans in close: “if you do decide you want to, come see us after practice Friday night and we’ll initiate you. If not, we’ll respect that, okay?”

Initiate.

Friday night.

You swallow, throat feeling suddenly dry.

Just what have you gotten yourself into?

~

You spend the week caught between a rational panic and another emotion you are not willing to put a name to. Yachi had texted you not long after your escape that night, an apology and a really genuine “no one will be mad if you don’t show Friday”. That was relaxing, just slightly, except the little pang as you realized you actually did want to show. You’ve had a text back drafted to her the past three days, glaring back at you as you agonized over your phone screen:

No problem at all! I just had one question about what this “initiation” would entail. You know, to prepare myself!

You’re pretty sure you’ve deleted and re-drafted the exact same text about fifty times. Normally, you’d text a friend, ask them to help you review what you’re saying to make sure it sounds chill, but who the fuck are you going to tell about this? The implication was clear. Freaked out as you are, you’re not exactly interested in spreading the information, either.

Friday morning is when you actually do get the guts to send it, having spend the week pointedly avoiding everyone, volleyball-related or otherwise. The final draft:

Sorry for being a little AWOL! Had some thinking to do, lol. I just wanted to ask what I can expect if I did show up tonight? You know, so I’m prepared?

She’d responded immediately—not with a text, but with an email and a call, the call coming through less than a minute after you’d gotten a notification of an email from her.

Somehow, your morbid curiosity on what you should know before showing up, if you chose to, turns into an hour-long phone conversation turns into sitting down with an open notebook turns into you reviewing the document she’d emailed you, freshly showered while Yachi goes through your closet.

“You wanna wear something sexy, but kinda cheap. Sometimes they get a bit too excited. After the first time, you don’t really have to participate in this stuff, if you’re busy or just not up for it, but especially for this first time, don’t give them the opportunity to wreck any clothes you care about.”

You nod, make a note on your open notebook, thighs squeezing together impatiently. She emerges from your closet, a bright look on her face as she holds up a miniskirt you’d long since relegated to the very back. “This is a cute skirt! It’s a really strong candidate.”

“Do you think so?” you cringe. “Honestly, I’m worried it might be a bit… y’know, short.”

“[full name].” She gives you a flat look. “You do understand what’s happening tonight, right?”

“…right. I’ll wear the skirt.”

She brightens up in an instant. “Good! Now let me find a matching top…”

When she’s satisfied, your outfit laid out and you almost mentally prepared to actually get dressed for this sort of thing, you expect her to leave the room, but she simply waits.

“Uh, Yachi, I need to…”

“I just thought of something,” she says, face blank. “[name], have you ever been with a girl before?”

Ah.

Your cheeks feel hot. You’ve not exactly tried to hide that you’re bisexual—if nothing else, the bi pride flag on your wall would be indicator enough—but as far as actual experience with girls…

“I’ve… thought really hard about it…? I haven’t really had the opportunity.”

She nods to herself. “Right. Before you get ready, it’ll be easier if I do this now.”

Her lips are on yours before you can fully process it, soft and tasting faintly of pineapple chapstick. She kisses you long and slow, lets you relax into it. When she pulls away, she smiles shyly, like she didn’t just kiss you for the purposes of prepping you for an orgy she’ll be involved in later today. “There. Get that first out of the way before we have to make out in front of the volleyball team.”

She waves on her way out of your bedroom. “Get dressed! I wanna make sure that outfit works for today.”

Right. Get dressed.

Well, if nothing else, you’re definitely sure about being bisexual now.

~

If not for Yachi, you would have backed out a hundred times already. As it is, she keeps a gentle, reassuring hand on your back as the two of you enter the gym, a good few minutes after the usual practice officially ends. They’ve already finished cleaning up everything from the day, the air already seemingly charged even before the part where they notice you’ve actually shown up.

Yachi closes the door behind you with a sweet smile. “We got her!” she cheers by way of greeting.

The eyes that suddenly land on you—all fourteen pairs, including Yachi—seem heavier than usual. Hungry. You can’t help the nerves that threaten to make you tremble at the promise of what’s to come.

But there’s Yachi again, ever-sweet and cute as she wraps an arm around your side.

“Oh, I see that!” Daichi is the first to say. “Glad to see you’ve decided to join us, [name]. Here I thought we’d scared you off for good!”

You giggle nervously. “Well, I just… you know me! Always gotta over-think things.” That’s good. That’s casual. You’re managing an almost-even tone while you talk. Almost like you’re a normal, real human person.

“I know the feeling,” Asahi sighs.

Suga sets down a chair near the center of the gym, eyes watching you in silent interest.

“I’m guessing since you came with her that you’ve been coaching her, Yachi?”

She nods. “She’s had the whole rundown. Knows what to expect and everything.” She unwinds herself from you in preparation for whatever’s to come next. You try not to jump at the sound of the lock on the door clicking shut.

“Good. Good.” Daichi nods. “Come sit, [name]. No sense in putting it off, right?”

You nod slowly, timidly stepping forward. Yachi follows close behind.

“Limits?” Daichi asks firmly. “Loud enough so we all hear you.”

Another laugh from you, shaky with nerves as you perch on the chair Suga set out for you. You rattle them off, having memorized the list in order for this exact moment. Knowing you, you’d forget something otherwise, and you nearly do.

“Got it. And Yachi told you about the stoplight system?”

 “She didn’t really need to,” you admit, a bit quieter. “I’ve got it.”

“Good. Shimizu, Yachi, if you’d get her ready? Ladies first, and all.”

Wordlessly, they descend on you. You were expecting… you don’t know. Not the sudden press of lips, familiar from an hour or two prior, against your own, or Shimizu’s arms so quick to drape over your shoulders from behind. You press your lips back against Yachi’s insistently, perhaps a bit excited, perhaps just trying to get yourself into the right headspace before you think too hard about the twelve guys currently watching you be sandwiched between the girls or Shimizu’s delicate fingers unbuttoning your top.

Your head spins with it already—Shimizu’s perfume, Yachi’s chapstick. Shimizu’s hand pushing your hair out of the way, her lips attaching to your neck gently. “You didn’t mention anything about marks in your limits,” she mumbles against your skin as a little whine escapes you. “Can we take that to mean it’s okay to mark you, or should I be careful?”

Yachi pulls away a bit, and you chase her lips. She pushes you back with a giggle. “She asked you a question.”

“Oh. Right.” You blink owlishly as you play back the question in your head. “Uh, yeah. I mean—it’s—it’s fine.”

“Are you sure? A few of the guys are not going to let up if they know that.”

Despite the exhibitionist dream going on right now, you don’t quite have the strength to admit that you quite enjoy the marks, actually, so instead: “I’m sure.”

“Alright.” Then, both pairs of lips are back—suckling your neck, kissing you until you’re out of breath. There’s no hurry, none at all, and you barely notice when your top is discarded completely, barely even notice the chatter of the guys bickering—when you strain, you just barely figure out that they’re deciding something about who gets a turn with you when.

You try not to shudder too hard at the thought.

Yachi slides a hand up to your bra and underneath it, rolls a nipple between her fingers. Shimizu follows up, finds your wrist and guides your hand beneath Yachi’s waistband to palm at her heat. “Have you ever…?”

You part from Yachi again, shake your head, eyes half-lidded and head swimming as you look up into the gym lights. “Hadn’t gotten the chance before—before today,” you admit.

She huffs a gentle laugh in your ear. “I’ll teach you, then.”

Her hand slides up your thigh, up your skirt. Yachi crawls into your lap, arms around your neck for stability as Shimizu’s fingers find your cunt, already wet. “It’s not that different from taking care of yourself,” she murmurs as two delicate fingers, too pretty to be where they are right now, stroke your slit. “Follow my lead, okay?”

You nod, whining when her fingers find your clit.

She teaches you in gentle, fluttery strokes. You lose track of it all quickly—your fingers buried in Yachi, thumb dancing over her clit as she leans over your shoulder to kiss Shimizu. You find it’s not that hard to adjust, and with every breathy gasp you draw from Yachi, you’re well rewarded by the slender fingers pumping into your cunt.

Needy and slipping into the mythical subspace you’ve only had the pleasure of reading about, you lean forward to plant your lips on Yachi’s neck. “No marks,” she sighs to you. You whine and move on, not letting yourself linger long enough to mark her skin. Seeming pleased with your listening, Shimizu slides a third finger inside you, stretches you out carefully.

“You’ll thank me later.”

She works you up so easily. Is it because you’re pressed between two pretty girls? Is it the ravenous eyes raking over this scene? Or—

Her hand retreats too soon, just as your hips had begun to really move with the friction, and you whine.

“I promise you’ll get there. Just hold on for now, okay?”

You nod, pouting at having been edged, and focus on the way Yachi writhes on your lap.

She’s close, too, you realize.

“So pretty,” you whisper in awe at the look on her face: eyes closed, head tilted back, lips parted just slightly. “You’re so pretty.”

Ah. Clearly she likes the praise, because she flutters around you. You work her more urgently, the wet squelches from your fingers buried in her joining the hushed moans and sighs of the team watching. When she cums, it’s a soft, quiet moan that you could honestly get used to hearing. Her walls flutter ceaselessly around your fingers as she leans down and kisses you again, and you’re sure not to stop until she slumps a little, though, truth be told, your wrist is already sore.

When she climbs off your lap, legs a bit shaky and a sweet, dopey smile on her face, she backs away, exiting the fray entirely. You nod in understanding. The goal, as she’d made very clear, is to make everyone cum at least once, and she’s gotten her fill. Shimizu takes your chin in her hand, tilts your face so she can kiss you, too. After a moment, you pull back. “Um—can I… my wrist… I don’t think I can…”

God, you’re already stupid. By the time you’ve gotten to everyone, you’re gonna be completely brainless, aren’t you?

She nods, helps you out of the chair only to sit you on your knees in front of her, having taken her place. She’s sweet and perfect on your tongue when you eat her out, paying careful, deliberate attention to her clit, and she instructs you in a low tone as she pets your head. It’s a blessing to be between her thighs, a blessing for her to be the first girl you’ve ever eaten out, a blessing to be allowed to draw a quiet moan from her when at last she cums on your tongue.

“Good,” she murmurs to you with a smile when you pull away, cheeks and chin wet with her slick. “I think you’re ready for us to pass you off. Will you be good for them, too?”

You nod, smiling dreamily. She looks over your shoulder and nods before standing and straightening herself out.

Three of your loyal watchers step forward. Seems like the seniors get you next.

~

You sit nervously, wait for… orders? Guidance? Anything?

You feel like you’re being circled by sharks, honestly. One of said sharks laughs, angelic, and you yelp when Suga’s hands come to rest on your waist. When had he joined you on the floor?

“You’re already tense again. Come on, relax a bit, [name].” His thumbs rub soothing circles into your hips. “See, Asahi’s gonna get nervous, too, if you act like that.”

Daichi pushes Asahi forward, a stern look on his face. Suga pushes you forward, too, until you’re nose to Asahi’s crotch and the prominent bulge in his shorts. “Go on. You took such good care of the girls, and it’s our turn now. Go ahead and open for him.”

You let your mouth hang open. You can be obedient. You can be good.

The bulge in Asahi’s shorts jumps a little as he looks down at you. You’re already deep in this, might as well go all-in—you paw at the waistband of his shorts, waiting for his nod of approval. When you receive it, you grab the shorts and his boxers and pull them down in one swift motion, swallowing thickly when you see the size of the thing.

If all the guys on the volleyball team are this hung, you’re going to be very, very sore in the morning.

You close your eyes, lean in. If you just keep your eyes closed, you don’t have to think about the guys watching you with varying levels of interest, don’t have to think about performing. You stroke him at the base, take as much of his cock into your mouth as you can handle. He lets out a soft groan as you begin to bob your head, and again you feel those hands on your hips. You let Suga do whatever it is he’s planning on, which is how you find your legs being spread a bit, your hips lifted just slightly only for someone—Suga, presumably—to slide his head between your thighs.

There’s a huff of a laugh against your pussy, and you try your best to keep up with sucking off Asahi as you’re yanked downwards to rest on his face. Asahi’s hot on your tongue, and Suga’s tongue is hot on you when he finally lathes his tongue over your sex. Your moan comes out muffled, cutting off into a squeak, almost a gag, when Asahi’s hips buck in response.

A murmured apology, a ruffle of your hair. The gentle affection has your heart and your walls fluttering against your will—Suga pulls away to laugh at you. “She liked whatever you just did, Asahi. Just so you know.”

You whine, roll your hips down in hopes of keeping him from saying anything else incriminating. He punishes you with a harsh suck of your clit, and the three of you fall into a nice rhythm—you taking Asahi’s cock as far into your mouth as you can handle, Suga fucking you on his tongue.

“S-so pretty,” Asahi murmurs when you dare a glance up at his face. He’s been watching you work him intently, sighs and groans filling your ears to let you know you’re doing well. You clench around Suga’s tongue at the praise, go back to work as you dip your head deep. When Asahi cums, he’s low and loud, and you greedily drink up the cum that hits the back of your throat. You’re not far behind, thanks to Suga, writhing on top of him as he forces you to stay seated on his face.

Asahi backs away. Suga slides out from underneath you, moves around to your front to kiss you softly. You shudder at the taste of yourself on his lips, shiver when his tongue slips into your mouth. Against your lips, he mumbles: “you could probably use a little rest already. You’re being really good, you know?”

Daichi chuckles darkly. “Oh, come on. She’ll never be done if we keep letting her rest.”

That’s the only warning you get before your skirt is tugged off. You’re left in nothing but a bra as Daichi begins to slide his fingers between your lips. “You’re doing great. Yachi said you were on birth control—I can assure you everyone here is clean, and she also said you’re okay with no condoms, but I want everyone to hear you say it, if that’s true.”

You whimper. You’re too sensitive for this right now, still shaking from your first orgasm of the night, but his fingers won’t stop moving.

“Well? Yes or no? Don’t make me ask you a third time.”

You gasp—his middle finger dips into your hole, just enough to make your hips buck. “P-please, I—I can—no condoms, please,” you nearly sob, hoping in vain that your bowing to his request will get you some respite.

“You’re so mean, Daichi,” Suga tuts.

You let out a sigh of relief when his fingers leave you, but then you’re being bent over and something hot and thick is sliding through your heat.

“S-sensitive,” you whine out.

“I know,” he replies, and then he’s pressing his way inside you, stretching you out, and you’re letting out a loud keen into the gym. He sits inside you a moment, gives you just long enough to adjust to the stretch before he’s moving. “You really worried us, you know. Do you think it’s polite to disappear without a word all week, [name]?”

“N-no, I’m sorry—“

A single harsh thrust. You cry out. Suga, ever-helpful, kneels down in front of you to give you his lap to rest on. Ever-obedient, you reach out and begin to palm the bulge in his shorts. He takes the chance to unclasp your bra as Daichi sets a slow, almost conversational pace.

You pull Suga out of his shorts, rest your head on his thigh. Focus on jerking him off as Daichi’s pace picks up from slow to harsh. “It’s nice of you to apologize. Don’t do it again.”

“I-I won’t—ah—“

The slow, lazy kisses you’ve taken to pressing against Suga’s cock—pretty and long—don’t mesh well with the bruising grip on your hips, the sharp snap of the captain’s cock in your pussy as he fucks you out. You cling desperately to Suga, jerk him off with no real rhythm as you struggle to take the abuse to your still-sensitive cunt.

By the time Suga’s cum shoots in ropes across your cheek, you’re close again, and Daichi isn’t letting up. “You want it inside, pretty girl?”

“Please,” you whine.

“Good girl,” he croons, and that sends you over the edge a second time, too fast—the fluttering of your walls drags him over with you. Suga takes the chance to stroke your hair almost lovingly as you’re filled up with hot cum, and you whimper as Daichi pulls out of you.

Five down. Nine to go.

You think they might kill you before the night’s over.

~

They really don’t let you rest—before you even process the retreat of the seniors, three more have stepped forward, and from the corner of your eye you notice the seniors holding back two guys in particular.

(“Dude, it’s our turn—“

“She can’t handle five at once. We already decided before this that you two get to go after them.”)

Ennoshita’s cock hangs heavy in front of you, and with a whimper, you drag yourself to sit up and take it in your mouth. He laughs softly. “You got used to this quickly. Look at you, you’re a mess.”

You’re not really willing to reply to that. You’re so far past embarrassment—if he’s trying to embarrass you, all you’re getting is a surge of heat low in your stomach all over again, as though your body could possibly handle any more right now.

There’s a nudge at your side, someone’s hand sliding up your arm and bringing you to take another cock in one of your free hands. A glance—Kinoshita is on one side of you, Narita on the other, and you are more than happy to take care of them, lack of coordination be damned.

“Take your time,” Narita says in a low voice. “I get this weird feeling the other two are not going to be very gentle with you when they get a turn.”

You shudder, moan around Ennoshita’s cock at the thought. His hips roll into your mouth, and you shoot him a pleading look. You weren’t particularly trying to send him any hints, but he takes some sort of hint anyway—his hand tangles in your hair, really expertly, actually, and he takes just a little bit of the load off you as he begins to fuck your throat, slow and easy, so you don’t have to keep track of getting off three at once. You relax your jaw, let him work, almost enjoy yourself as you twist your wrists around Kinoshita and Narita’s cocks.

Ennoshita is careful with you. Forceful, sure, but careful. You could gag on him—easily, if that was what he wanted—but he never makes you take him too deeply, simply enjoys the feeling of your mouth, your tongue, the way you’re completely lost in your little initiation. As his pace begins to stutter, you try to bob your head with him, unpermitted by his grip in your hair. You’re fully under now, head caught in a delicious space you’ve never quite experienced. Floating, really.

He pulls you off him firmly. “Color?”

You let out a little half-whine, looking up at him with lidded eyes and a quizzical head tilt as you try to remember what the fuck he’s asking you through the fuzz.

“Mm?”

“Damn, she’s totally lost.”

“Think she’ll be okay? Should we—“

A little panic surges in you, and you jolt forward as you finally process what he’s looking for. “G-green! Green. I’m green.”

He nods. “You’re sure?”

“Mm. Floaty. But green.”

“Good. That’s a good girl. You’re gonna keep being good?”

You reply with a whine, a tug forward in hopes of giving him the message to put his cock back in your mouth right now.

He gets the message.

The two in your hands tumble over the edge first, and you moan as you feel them paint you with their cum. You might like being taken advantage of like this. Ennoshita isn’t too far behind. He spills into your mouth with a groan, untangling fingers from your hair and smoothing it down gently. Before he backs away to let the next guys have their way with you, he leans down, keeps an affectionate hand on top of your head. “Good luck.”

“Mm?”

He backs away without explanation, and before you fully process it, you’re being pushed into a new position on your hands and knees. “Finally,” Noya groans from behind you, hands groping your ass almost reverently. “You’re being so good, it was so hard not to come take you while the others were busy with you.”

A whine. You’re more or less losing your ability to speak, between the soreness building in your jaw and the cotton in your head. Something bumps against your pussy, and you flinch with a whimper.

Tanaka is in front of you, watching your face carefully as Noya’s hands roam your body from behind. “Still good, [name]?”

You nod.

“Good,” he says, and then there’s yet another cock in your mouth. You’re starting to lose count. But, hey, Tanaka’s dick is an effective gag to keep you from getting too loud when Noya slides into you with an obscene squelch.

“There you are,” he groans, grip bruising-tight on your hips. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

Tight and sensitive. Noya isn’t particularly thick, but at this angle he’s already pressing against a spot soft and delicious in your cunt. Fuck, he hasn’t even moved yet and you already feel dangerously close.

You rock your hips back against him, desperate even as you take Tanaka’s cock as deep into your mouth as you can manage. You get barely any movement before Noya takes the hint, and then one hand is holding you steady as he snaps his hips, sharp and hard, into you. The other sneaks around, finds your clit with ease and begins to frantically torture it. You cum hard and fast around him, and he lets his head drop backward with a groan, not stopping even as you struggle to hold yourself up and take it.

It’s all so much. So much. So much—

You barely manage to bring a hand up to finish Tanaka in your mouth, desperate to have just one less thing drowning you, and lucky for you, it works—he grits out praises as he spills into your mouth, strokes your hair as you swallow as much of his cum as you can handle.

With your mouth free, Nishinoya pauses just long enough to pull out and flip you onto your back. “Your knees are starting to hurt, right?” he coos, cock throbbing against your entrance again. “But you’re doing so well.”

You whimper. It’s all you still know how to do. He takes in your body, chest heaving and tits shaking from exertion, and slides a hand up your side, pausing to tweak a nipple. Your back arches. “God, you’re perfect. Are your tits always this sensitive, or do you just like being watched?”

“Al-ways,” you moan out, voice broken. His eyes are ravenous as he takes you in, like he doesn’t know where to look.

“Oi, Noya, you’re not the last one that gets her today. Go ahead and fuck her already.”

He doesn’t need telling twice. His arms are shaking as he pins you down by the wrists, shaking as he plunges into you all over again.

Noya is brutal. Dimly, you have the thought that you understand why they held him back as long as possible, though you think it might have made things worse. He leans down, lips against your neck, and groans when you immediately clench around him. “Your neck, too?” he hisses out.

You nod, barely able to catch your breath or un-fuzz your head long enough to talk.

“Fuck,” he breathes, taking the time to suck a few marks into your throat.

“Please,” you whine in reply. That’s all it takes for him to sink his teeth into a soft spot on your neck, and then you’re cumming again with an actual sob as he cums inside you, the second time someone’s cum inside tonight.

Nine… ten? Down. You can’t count anymore. He pulls out of you, lathes his tongue over where he’d bitten you, leaves you laying there to catch your breath.

~

“Need a break?”

You shake your head, not even bothering to check who’s asking you.

A laugh. “You sure? You look a little dead.”

One eye opened lazily. Yamaguchi. “Can take it,” you slur out. You’re utterly boneless. Exhausted, really. But you’ve got… a number more to get through, and fuck it, you’re in way too deep to give up now, and Yamaguchi’s looking kind of delicious, and—

Next thing you know, you’re slumped between him and Tsukki, one in your ass, the other in your cunt, you openly sobbing as Tsukki hisses condescension in your ear, fingers in your mouth to keep it open while they split you in half—

(“How is she even alive right now? I don’t think any of us made it through the whole thing without a real break.”

“We’re keeping her. We have got to keep her.”)

Next thing you know, you’re jerking Kageyama off onto your face, tongue lolling out to catch every drop of cum you can—

(“Genuinely impressive. Are we sure she’s never done this before?”

“Dude, I’m serious, what do we have to do to get her to come every time?”)

Next thing you know, Hinata is thrusting into you at blinding speeds, and you’re cumming again, moans more like broken sobs—

(“I mean, she keeps saying she’s good, and she’s almost through…”

“She’s just having a good time. Probably been dreaming about something like this since before she showed up for her ‘article’.”)

There’s a few expectant looks as you lay there at last, thoroughly fucked out, unable to even think about moving as the TV static in your brain begins to finally fade out.

Holy fuck.

Are you done? That was the last of them, right? You’re done, aren’t you?

“Now, now, [name],” Tsukishima says, and his tone has you whining. That was everyone. You’re done.

“The rule was that you have to make everyone cum before you’re done,” he explains, like you’re five or something.

“D-didn’t… didn’t I…?”

A few slow shakes of the head from a few guys.

“You’re here, too.”

Your blood runs cold.

“Noo,” you whine. “Can’t.”

“You can’t?” Tsukki crouches down beside you. “You’ve made fourteen people cum tonight, and you’re giving up now? What happened to the slut we’ve been watching all night?”

“Can’ttt,” you repeat, new tears already forming. How many times have you cum already?

He sighs. “You’re really not serious about this, are you?”

“No, I am, I-I—“

“Then you can make yourself cum one last time for us to see.”

You whimper, limply bring a hand to rest between your legs. Should’ve brought a damn vibrator.

You work yourself up as fast as you can handle, cup one breast in your off hand to roll your nipple between your fingers. Slide two fingers in and shudder when you find the mix of cum there.

(“It’s just mean making her do it herself after all that.”

“If she can actually cum again after all that, I don’t even know what to say.”)

Technically, you could probably get away with faking it. …probably. But, well…

The little competitive bitch in you wants to prove them wrong, and, hell, you’ve already put on a show for everyone here, right? So you get into it, best you can. Roll your hips weakly against your hand, sigh and whimper at just how much this all is. Rub your clit as fast as your wrist can still handle, actually fucking thrash as you fall over the edge one last time.

~

You blacked out.

That, at least, you can figure out. You’re being held against one of any number of potential muscular bodies, cradled, really. Like you’ll break or something.

“How long do you think she has to be out before we call someone?”

“Don’t,” you groan. “’M alive. Barely.”

Fucking hell, your throat is dry. You open one eye to peek at Suga, who’s already got a water bottle ready for you. It’s Asahi holding you, and he shifts to let you tilt your head back as Suga tips the water bottle into your mouth.

Someone is wiping the worst of the cum off you with a damp rag. You squirm, whine as they clean you up. Drink like you’ve spent the past six months in the desert.

“How’re you feeling?” Yachi asks sweetly. Ah. She’s the one cleaning you up.

“Gooood,” you slur out. “Tired. Sore. Don’t wanna be a good girl for the next twennyfour hours at least.”

She laughs. “You know you could have taken a break, right? You didn’t have to get everyone off in one go.”

You simply groan. In the background, a few of the previously unaccounted-for guys are cleaning up the mess where you’d been laid out on the floor. Someone taps something against your lips. You accept it, mostly out of laziness. Sweet. Crunchy. Chocolate-covered pretzel. You wonder if you can get them to move your jaw for you.

“Do you still want to come back after this, [name]?” Shimizu asks.

You nod. Accept another pretzel. Snuggle into Asahi’s arms. You think they picked him for cuddle duty because he’s got good arms. “’Sgood. ‘Mgood.”

She laughs slightly. Drapes something over your naked body.

A black jacket, reading Karasuno Volleyball Team.

“Welcome to the team, then,” she says, tilting her head with an ethereal smile. You blink blearily. Smile back.

You cannot fucking wait for their next match.

Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet @dusstory

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[potatingpotato]

and you called me an idiot [kageyama tobio]

pairing: kageyama tobio/reader (both are 18+ in this) genre: smut drabble summary: Kageyama has had enough of you teasing him.

a/n: I wrote this a long time ago and originally posted it in deviantart. idk but I suddenly have the urge to post my fics from there to other places haha. hope you enjoy this proof of my thirst for kageyama from the past lmao!

You let out a gasp as he bit your neck, leaving a small love bite. You close your eyes as the pleasure starts taking over as you let yourself get lost in the moment.

Kageyama eyes the way you look appreciatively from his position above you. Disheveled hair, eyes almost glazed over with pleasure, your teeth biting your lip to keep your moans in. He thrust into you harder and smirked when a loud moan came from your mouth and an even lewder expression painted your face.

He kept up the rough pace, enjoying the absolute dominance he had over you. You were a moaning, panting mess and it was all because of him.

And you called him an idiot.

[newtthetranswriter]

'WTF is a Shobio?'

Paring: Keishin Ukai x Gn! Reader

Summary: You need Keishin to tell a couple of the volleyball boys something, only he does not understand the weird nickname you have used for them

A/n: So I recently need to make some fake texts for an upcoming fic I'm working on, and figured why not dip my toes into the smau style of writing. I'll admit this probably isn't the best, but I'm still learning so any tips are appreciated. Credit to @yunwangja for coming up with Shobio (if you want me to untag you, just let me know). Anyways Enjoy and as always remember to hydrate or diedrate.

(Credit to @/cafekitsune for dividers)

[sawamiyukiss]

Kiyoomi Sakuza: Blind Date

When Motoya sets up Kiyoomi on a blind date, Kiyoomi is determined to hate the date but he actually ends up enjoying your company. Too bad he can't let Motoya have this win over him. Motoya: 1 , Kiyoomi: 0 Ao3 version

When Motoya first brought up the idea to Kiyoomi, he felt his brain short circuit. A blind date? No, thank you.

But Motoya knew Kiyoomi since they were children, and he knew Kiyoomi was anything if not prideful. All it took to convince Kiyoomi to go on the blind date was to hint that he would have to let his mom know how antisocial he was being in college. So Kiyoomi agreed simply to appease him. He would not, however, enjoy the date. Not at all.

Despite not wanting to be there, Kiyoomi arrived fifteen minutes before the agreed time and reserved a table for the two of you. To his surprise, you arrived shortly after he had sat down.

He would not admit this to anyone but he found you quite charming. You were surprisingly easy to talk to and had more in common than he thought you would. You shared a passion for self discipline and enjoyed being introverts on your time off. When you told him you were also majoring in finance he wondered why he had not seen you around the college campus before.

For the next two hours you comfortably jumped from topic to topic together, and when the waiter brought out the bill to Kiyoomi he couldn't stop the disappointment that bubbled in his chest.

Blind dates were not Kiyoomi's strong suit. Admittedly, this had been the best date Kiyoomi had ever been on. Not that he went out often, but every now and then he found himself attempting to join the dating scene.

When Motoya asked him the next day how his date went, Kiyoomi turned to him and curtly said "I don't think we'll be seeing each other again." Despite wanting the exact opposite. He would never admit to him that he enjoyed himself immensely. No, his cousin would never let him live that down.

And so Motoya took the hint. As did you, when Kiyoomi did not reach out to you after your date. Kiyoomi's busy schedule with the volleyball season in full swing and the countless assignments as the semester rolled out distracted him from giving you a call. And when he didn't initiate a follow up after the first date, you took that as a sign to not pursue.

It wasn't until weeks later that you two saw each other once again. In the middle of the frat party your friend insisted you go to, you spotted a familiar face.

Ignited by the alcohol in your system, you approached Kiyoomi. He stood in a corner of the low lit room nursing a red plastic cup.

"Hey, you look like you're having fun," you teased him lightly as if the past few weeks of radio silence on his end hadn't been confusing to you.

"Oh" was his only reply. He seemed shocked to see you there. Shocked to see you talking to him at all. He had meant to call you back, he really did. He wanted to explain himself and apologize, but the words died on his tongue.

"You here alone?" you don't know why you continued to offer him an easy way in.

He shook his head at your words. "Motoya's somewhere around here. And you?"

He wanted so badly to continue the conversation. Seeing you again had reignited the feelings he tried to deny himself. He wondered if meeting again at this party was his second chance.

You beamed at him, eager to continue the conversation. "I did see him in the kitchen not too long ago! I'm actually waiting for my friend, she-"

In that same moment, you received a text: Hi please don't be mad at me but I can’t make it tonight. Rain check?

Kiyoomi sensed the change in your mood and was desperate to see you smiling again. Before he could even offer any conversation to you, Motoya's voice boomed from nearby.

"Hey you two! You found each other!" Motoya beamed. "Still looking for your friend?"

You grimaced, "No she won't be able to make it. I was actually thinking of heading back to my dorm before it gets too dark."

"That's no fun! You should hang around with us, we can walk you back home at the end of the night!"

You hesitated and turned to look at Kiyoomi for assistance.

"You should stay," he offered.

His answer surprised you. It seemed to surprise him too, just how much he meant it.

Your heart did a flip. His did too. He wondered if you could hear how fast his heart was beating out of his chest.

You smiled at him shyly, "Okay I'll stay."

Maybe Kiyoomi would never admit it out loud, but it was obvious Motoya had won after all and he didn't mind it one bit if it meant he got the second chance to continue getting to know you.

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🌷✨ More characters and stories coming soon! Thank you for reading! 🌸💌 Requests are Open! 💌🌸 Feel free to send in headcanon ideas, drabble requests, etc! 🎀✨

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[sodaneko]

NIGHT SHIFT ; Iwaizumi x gn!reader

where it's you, your downstairs neighbor Iwaizumi & your cat

contains: gn!reader (no pronouns used, no gendered pet names, no physical descriptions), socmed au, neighbor au (bit of biker au too whoops), strangers to lovers, two very mildly suggestive slides (10 & 11) but otherwise pretty much pure fluff, iwaizumi the man that you are

a/n: downstairs neighbor iwaizumi wouldn't leave my mind so here we are. i really wanna write more smau oneshots they're so fun to make. also can you tell i'm ovulating bc i'd never look at jpgs of irl men otherwise lmao

gen tag list:

@kentocalls @ottocre @kittygirl11829 @bakingcuriosity @bakery-anon

@jodercriis @chaotic-neutral-ig @kitsune-kita @kameyyy @cookielovesbook-akie

@manhattanstrawberry @megapteraurelia (also @maybespiderman because i love eggwaizumi)

gen taglist is open! fill out this form to be added (or removed, no hard feelings) ♡

[koushisbabie]

where were we?

imagine! Tsukishima x reader

summary: you and Tsukishima are studying, but little do you know, he is crushing mad hard on you...

genre: fluff!

word count: 1.5k

It’s late, and the library is quiet save for the occasional page turning and the gentle scratch of pen on paper. Somewhere there is a clock ticking faintly. You rest your head in your palms, eyelids threatening to close with each minute that passes.

            ���Oi.’ A sharp tap on your forehead brings you to focus, and you snap you attention to your companion. ‘Don’t fall asleep.’

            Tsukishima pushes his glasses up and fixes you with a stern look. ‘You’ll get drool all over your workbook,’ he smirks.

            ‘It must be almost midnight,’ you say, searching for your phone, ‘shouldn’t we call it a night? I don’t know how much more I can take.’

            ‘Is that so?’

            ‘We’ve been at this for hours,’ you whine, ‘I need to rest.’

            ‘You’ve barely touched your textbook,’ Tsukishima points out. He turns back to his own book, content with his progress for the evening.

            ‘But I’m tired…’ you yawn. ‘Just a little nap, five minutes, I promise,’ you say, cradling your head on the tabletop. You close your eyes to Tsukishima’s annoyed expression. ‘Just five minutes.’

            Minutes pass, and you are well passed out. Tsukishima takes a moment to look at you, really taking in the sight of your hair sprawled around your face, soft and messy, never staying in place for too long. Your eyelashes pretty and delicate against your cheekbones, the smattering of sunspots evident across the bridge of your nose, proof that you do in fact go outside from time to time. Your mouth is slightly open, the gentlest of snores escaping between your lips. You looks peaceful, he thinks, how tired you are from doing next to nothing today, he cannot reason why. Rolling his eyes, he places his large hand on your head, gently patting your hair like he was patting a sleeping cat.

            The blush that crept across his cheeks grew too warm and the fluttering in his belly too active for his liking. He glances around, brows furrowed in annoyance, thankfully, no one was watching this play out.

‘I guess there’s no harm in it,’ Tsukishima mutters. He pushes his seat backward, stretching his legs. He heads outside and down the stairs to the vending machine.

Fresh air is a welcome sensation, the crisp taste of the nighttime cool against his heated cheekbones. It has not been long since he began feeling oddly self-conscious around you, wondering whether you actually enjoy his company for him, or whether you are just bored of your own friends. It might as well be clear that you are not using him as a tutor since you just fall asleep during a study session. For a time, he actually thought you hung around him to get closer to Yamaguchi, believing he would be a better match for you then himself, but even when Yamaguchi was not around, you spent time with Tsukishima. He even began checking his hair before he left the bathroom, sometimes even twice. In class it was hard to focus, every time you raise your hand, your voice rings out with a tentative answer, Tsukishima’s belly does flips, fighting the urge to swivel in his seat and stare at you. It was bad enough that he stole glances every now and then, much to Yamaguchi’s amusement. It only took Yamaguchi nudging Tsukishima’s arm and winking in your direction for him to click onto the fact that maybe, just maybe, he likes you more than just a friend.

Tsukishima shakes the thought from his mind, his cheeks that had only just returned to normal are blushing furiously again. ‘Tch,’ he rolls his eyes, ‘what am I supposed to do with this?’

The vending machine hums quietly beside him, emitting enough glow to attract moths that flutter around Tsukishima. He presses some buttons and feeds several silver coins into the machine. The drinks thud into the reception and with a small sigh, he makes his way back up to the library where, he discovers, you are still sleeping soundly.

The tiniest drool glistens on your hand, Tsukishima notices as he pulls out his chair. He places the drinks loudly on the table, the vibration enough to wake you from your slumber.

‘What happened?’ You ask, your voice husky from sleep. You look at him with wide eyes, and his heart skips a beat.

‘Nothing,’ he says, quickly looking away, ‘here, caffeine.’

‘I’m not sure it’s a good idea to have caffeine this late,’ you say hesitantly.

Tsukishima shrugs. ‘Don’t finish this chapter then,’ he says nonchalantly, ‘and I’ll drink both.’ He follows this with a small smirk.

You grimace, cracking open the drink and taking a sip. You wipe your mouth on the back of your hand. ‘Fine, you win,’ you say, smiling at him. ‘Thank you.’ You lick your lips with the tip of your tongue. Unaware that Tsukishima is watching you with eagle eyes, wondering how soft your lips would feel against his neck. His face warms, and he shifts in his seat nervously.

You lean over the table to peer closely at his textbook, a clear view down your shirt the further you lean toward him, your face dangerously close to his. ‘Now, where were we?’

Tsukishima falters, the blush threatening to creep across his face again, but he quickly covers it up as he pushes his glasses up. He glances from your chest to your lips to your eyes, wide and wondering. It would only take a second to kiss you, he thinks, but how perverted would you think he is, staring down your shirt and then kissing you out of the blue, and during a study session! But then, you might like it, you might melt into his grasp… Or you might push him away, disgusted by his advances, ‘We’re just friends, what the hell are you doing?’ Your voice rings in his ears.

‘Tsukishima?’ You say, hesitantly. Your brows furrowed with concern, your perfect pout pink and so close to him. ‘Are you okay?’

He tries to push the thought from his mind, clearing his throat. ‘Page eighty-seven,’ he murmurs, averting his gaze. You frown slightly, blush dusting your cheekbones. You linger for a moment too long, and he glances back at you, meeting your eyes.

How long had it been since he first saw you? When you were dashing through the corridor, late for your club activity, and bumping into him, apologising profusely. The day you asked him to check over your homework before you handed it in, he looked at you with narrow eyes, ‘you’re the one who ran into me, aren’t you?’ he had asked, ‘are you late to hand in your work as well?’. To which you had replied with something witty, but he could not remember what, he was busy trying to figure out what colour your eyes were. The next time he had seen you was when you volunteered to help Yachi take photos, and you waved at him wildly from across the court, distracting and earning him a few suggestive winks from his teammates. You always did that, distracted him when you moved to his class, when you continued to show up with Yachi, and when you started studying with him.

Every time, he found himself drawn to you – and he never wanted to admit it, but here he is, staring wide-eyed at your pretty face, your sweet breath just inches from him, alone in the quiet library on a normal Wednesday evening.

Fuck it. Tsukishima’s hands cup your face, bringing you closer to his, and bridges the gap. Indeed, your lips are as soft as he had imagined, and as warm as he had hoped. His chest is hammering hard, and he is sure you can hear it.

You seem to have frozen, he realises, and he pulls back sheepishly.

‘I, uh,’ Tsukishima blushes, brows furrowed, looking for an excuse. It is not every day he gets embarrassed, but he has done it now, he thinks. ‘Sorry, I don’t –’

‘You don’t what?’ You ask quickly. ‘You don’t like me?’

Tsukishima’s eyes widen, his heartbeat in his ears. ‘That’s not what I was going to say,’ he says, eyes narrowing, he pouts.

You search his face, his skin a pretty, pink blossom. ‘You do, don’t you?’ You grin.

Tsukishima scowls, unsure how to react, and nothing witty comes to mind. Never in a million years did he expect to be confessing during an interrogation. He rolls his eyes.

‘I knew it,’ you say confidently. ‘No one blushes like you do around me.’

‘Oh, shut it,’ Tsukishima says, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

‘Make me,’ you say, smirking against his lips.

author note: a little drabble, hope you enjoy!

[yatsurinamikaze]

Into the Fire (Mafia AU!)

Yakuza! Sakusa Kiyoomi x Reader

Summary: Your asshole of an ex breaks up with you out of the blue. Fortunately, your brooding mysterious new neighbour becomes a welcome distraction. What happens when you realize you’ve left one nightmare, only to fall into the arms of something far more dangerous?

Chapter 1: A hard day’s night.

The night is still. Too still. The kind of silence that presses on your ears, leaving nothing but the hollow echo of your own thoughts. The cab slows to a stop at the curb, its headlights briefly illuminating your house, casting long shadows across the lawn. You pay the fare without a word, stepping out into the biting cold. Pulling your sweater tighter, you wrap your arms around yourself, warding off both the chill in the air and the one creeping into your chest.

As you walk toward your house, the faint sound of footsteps breaks the silence—slow, deliberate, boots crunching softly against the damp grass behind you. Your stomach knots. You turn sharply, eyes widening, heart racing for a split second before recognition hits you.

“Oh God, Kiyoomi,” you exhale sharply, the words coming out harsher than intended. “You scared me.”

He stands there, cloaked in shadow, dressed in his usual black. His hands are shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket, and his mask—always that mask—conceals most of his face. But you know him well enough by now. You can feel the weight of his gaze, dark and unreadable, boring into you.

“How did it go?” His voice is low, controlled, betraying nothing.

Your throat tightens, and the familiar sting of unshed tears prickles behind your eyes. But you won't cry. Not here. Not in front of him. You respond sarcastically, “Went just peachy.”

For a second, it seems like you'll hold it together. But that feeling lasts only a second.

“And humiliating. And shocking,” you add, voice cracking as the anger rises, bitter and relentless. You can’t stop now, the words spilling out faster than you can control. “What did you expect, Kiyoomi?”

“Y/N—” he starts, his tone steady, almost soothing, but it only fuels your frustration.

You throw his own words back at him, a vicious mimicry of the conversation that took place a few nights ago “'Do you trust me, Y/N?' You asked me that. And like an idiot, I said yes.” You laugh, the sound hollow, bitter. “God, I’m such a fool. And you are such a liar.” Your voice is raising with anger, as you go on, venom dripping from every word. “Oh, and apparently a killer, a drug dealer? That’s quite the resume you've got going there for yourself.”

Sakusa’s expression remains unreadable, though something flickers behind his eyes. He steps toward you, slowly, like he’s trying not to startle a wounded animal. “Y/N, I moved into this neighborhood for—”

“No,” you snap, shoving him back with both hands. “Don’t. Just… stop, Kiyoomi. Stop!” He doesn’t resist, letting you push him, though he hardly budges.

You take a breath, forcing yourself to step away. 

Your voice drops, low and strained, thick with the ache you're trying so hard to suppress. “If you keep talking,” you whisper, “you’re going to warm your way back into my heart. And I can’t—” You swallow hard. “I dont want you near my heart…ever.”

You turn abruptly, fumbling for your keys, forcing yourself not to look back. The door swings open with a sharp creak, and you slam it shut with a finality that echoes in the night.

For a long moment, Sakusa just stands there, staring at the door. His face is blank, his eyes shadowed, unreadable. He blinks slowly, as if trying to make sense of what just happened, then exhales, his breath fogging the air in front of him. Without a word, he turns and walks away, his silhouette disappearing into the darkness.

Inside, your back hits the door, and the tears finally spill over. You slide down to the floor, burying your face in your hands as the sobs wrack your body, the weight of everything crashing down around you.

Let me know your thoughts! I have the storyline plotted out but will only write if you guys are interested. Let me know in comments!

[arcreactordreams]

"Im so sorry to bother you at home"

Starring: Nishinoya Yuu

Sypnosis: He has been trying to hit on you subtly for quite a few time, but he has grown a little more determinate now.

Request: Hello! Could you please write a Nishinoya x female reader where she’s seen by everyone as a serious, menacing person, when in reality she’s really just socially awkward and dense? Nishinoya tries hitting on her doing the usual tricks like flowers and bears and pick up lines but she’s just confused. Finally he just becomes more direct with her and honest and slowly she falls for him too? I’m sorry if it’s a bit too detailed and it’s okay if you don’t do this haha it’s been at the back of my head for a while

A/N: This one was so cute to write!, i tried to be really quick making this but the inspiration came to me like a thunder and here we are. Remember i use she/her in this fic.

Nishinoya Yuu. The thunder of the Karasuno team, always so energetic and kind, oftenly called delusional by his feelings towards Kiyoko, little did they know that it wasent a crush, he admired her and by that her personality and how she acted; But he liked you, he admired you and wordshipped the very floor you stepped on.

His tries were almost pathetic, sure he could tell Kiyoko anything btu it was different when it was you, he shacked and mumbled like a little kid inlove everytime he crossed any words with you. Everyone could tell but some way you didnt; Not even the flowers he gave you, little gifts he made for you with his own hands (which were a cute detail since he isnt pretty good with manualities) But from time to time his friends started to see that there was no response tho this little acts.

"She doesn't like you and she's acting like that to decline your feelings nicely" He heard one of them said, his heart ached but then Hinata spoke answering to the previous person, his words were filled with determination and his obvious spark that always bringed hope to everyone. "And what if she isnt?, she could see it was a friendly gesture. Nishinoya haven't talked about his feelings openly to her"

Hinata had a point, Sugawara and Daichi agreed, yes Nishinoya and his friends could think those hints were obvious enough to tell that he was completely head over heels inlove with you. But they know him as a friend and since pretty long time comparing to you; They weren't you and that meant they didnt feel or thinked like you.

He planned his confession, would you like something big? the whole school knowing?, No, it will make you agree by social pressure, Did you liked him enough to say 'Yes' without much people knowing? Oh God.

It was 6PM on a friday. He can remember it vividly, his steps were hard on the floor and his fingers were digging into his shirt and on the little box he held, his palms sweated and his face was red; He knocked at your door. After a few minutes you opened the door.

"Hey, im so sorry to bother you at home" he started as he saw you, his face blushed and his cologne was subtle as always. "I know that this might be hard but... I dont know what to say" he started panicking.

"I like you a lot" He finally stated after a sigh, his gaze fixated on the floor, the blush on his cheeks made him look heated, his breathing was heavy and his mind was longing and pleading for an answer.

"Are you being serious?" You spoke, a hidden tint of amusement in your voice, his feeling were glowing as he answered "Of course i am, why wouldnt i? i like you so much" He said as he took another step, reflecting his mind and then doing the opposite and stepping back, he didnt wanted to make the situation awkard, he just wanted to finally be totally sincere with you.

little did he know you liked him aswell, but oh lord he is the happiest man alive.

"Hey, i bringed this for you too" He said as he smiled at you, more confident and smug after your answer, handing you a little figure you have been longing to have since quite a few time. He buyed it for you since the first day you mentioned it but he decided to wait untill the ocation was perfect, and sure it was.

[husbandograveyard]

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ Part of my fluffember short writings - Masterlist ₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ Kuroo Tetsurou (Haikyu!!) X Genderneutral reader ₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ ₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ Fluff - wc: 390 ₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

There is nothing Kuroo loves more than coming home to you after a long day of work. There is something indescribable about the feeling he gets when he walks the final steps from his car to the front door, only to see that the light is on. He won’t come home to a dark emptiness, instead he will be greeted with your cheerful voice from the kitchen, pans and utensils clattering, the sound mixing with whichever melodies you have put on in the background. 

If he’s lucky, you won’t even have heard the door open, and he gets to see you dancing along to the music, singing along to the tunes and swaying your hips, leaning over your furnace slightly to check if everything is processing the way you would like. He’d stand in the doorway for a bit, a smile on his face as he loosens his tie and untucks his shirt. He’ll never be able to describe the feeling he gets when he watches you like that, his heart somersaulting, unable to contain all the love he feels for you. 

He usually coughs or makes some other sound, so he doesn’t startle you by calling out your name from the doorframe. The last thing he wants is for you to get a jumpscare while handling hot items on the stove.

His knees grow weak just a little when you turn around to face him, your face lighting up the minute you spot him. How he wishes he could just capture that fraction of a second and burn it into his brain, an image he never wants to forget or take for granted. 

You turn off the heat as you turn away from the task at hand, walking over to him to give him a kiss. His hand finds its place on your side, where it lingers, the kiss never just a short peck. There’s a reason you turn the stove off before you turn to him. 

“Welcome home.” 

Those simple words have such a profound meaning for him, because that’s what it is. Here, holding you, that’s where his home is. It’s wherever you are, wherever he can breathe in your scent and hear your soft giggles as he playfully peppers the softest kisses to the exposed skin of your neck. Home is his favorite place to be. 

[krak-jj]

stupid. oikawa t. x reader

hard angst!!

sorry if he's ooc. I haven't written for him before so please give me a little wiggle room.

but I got you guys enjoy!

lowercase intended!

__

"so you're going to play for argentina?" her voice rang through his ears as her cup made its way to her lips. "yeah. i plan on living there after high school." his voice was quiet compared to the thick atmosphere around the two.

"hm" she hummed as she placed her cup down. "i'm not gonna stop you if that's what you want." She shrugged as her eyes met his.

"but by god, you're so fucking stupid for letting me fall for you." the grip on her cup tightened. "bab-" "please dont 'babe' me. it hurts knowing we most likely won't last after high school. i don't want to leave my home. you might, but i don't. and i wish i knew sooner so that this goodbye wouldn't be as hard." She sighed.

"y/n." his eyes looked away from her intense ones. "look at me tooru. at least have the balls to do that."

"You might think i'm being extremely over dramatic. and maybe i am. but please look at it from my perspective. three years. just for you to move across the world. did you really think i would just willing go like 'oh my tooru! of course i'll move to a completely different country and learn a whole new language and leave my friends and family behind because we are sooo ment to be together the rest of our lives!'"

he flinched at her tone of voice as he tried to keep eye contact, but couldn't. "wow. you really thought that. how stupid of you." her voice cracked as she got up. "have a good life tooru."

he didn't even fight it.

"how stupid of me." his voice broke

__

Masterlist

[nowoyas]

haze of morning (NSFW) - nishinoya/cat hybrid!reader

M.list - Ao3

A/N: here have a non-canon spinoff of a fic I haven't fucking written yet (edit: I started writing it) lmao enjoy

Summary: Although he can never seem to predict them, Noya's gotten the hang of helping you through your heat cycles. This time, he bought a little something extra to make it more fun.

Warnings: heat cycles (no breeding), creampies, he calls you "kitten", biting bc this is a fic I wrote, light somno, being recorded during sex

Words: ~1600

You are going to be the death of him.

Your heats come infrequently—once every few months, apparently, but he's searched that multiple times because he keeps forgetting until it's time again—and hit you like a truck every time. Noya does his best to stay on top of them—after the first year or so, he'd gotten you more than a few toys in case it came on while he was at class or at work, and your nests in the floor of every available closet are now equipped not only with the usual blankets and plushes, but also a sealed bottle of water for you to find when you retreat.

He's reread the same articles on hybrid heats so many times they're burned into his brain. He could recite them from memory—the things to look out for, how to watch for heats if your hybrid is mute or withdrawn, how to ethically care for a hybrid in heat. Sudden increased affection, a shift to more animalistic vocalizations (in your case, involuntary purring seems to be the biggest), scenting one's owner. Still, the signs never register until mornings like these, when he wakes up already hard to whimpers and gasps in his ear.

The biggest sign he's learned to look out for, the one the articles didn't tell him about, is that you grind on him in your sleep. The room is still mostly dark, the first fingers of sunlight crawling into the room and dancing across your sleeping forms, and you are making a mess on his bare thigh.

He watches you in appreciation for a while—the flick of your ears and tail, the way you seem to be holding back on whimpering even in your sleep—before he reaches for his phone, drafting two texts: one to his boss, one to Ryuu.

Hey, something's up with [name] so I gotta stay home with her today. Ryuu owes me a favor so I'll see if he can cover my shift

Lucky that Ryuu owes him. Lucky that this time, he can catch you early and have you all to himself for this heat. Lucky that you're such a heavy sleeper that not even Noya's quiet groan wakes you.

hey man. so that favor you owe me: can you cover my shift tonight?

It's too early for either of them to see it, but he's too pre-occupied to care. He gently pulls you off him, heart cracking at the mournful whine that leaves your throat, and goes searching for his latest impulse buy. If he does it right, this'll be your best heat yet, though not your easiest. While there, he sets up his phone on a tripod, angles the frame, and hits record: you'd long since enthusiastically agreed to him recording you through your heats, even if he hasn't necessarily brought up the idea of the little bottle he'd bought from the sex shop last week.

He pulls the blanket off you, carefully hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties, and slides them down your plush legs, holding his breath while he checks that you're still asleep.

Good. Good.

It's hard not to let out a breathy laugh when he re-locates the new buy and gets the bottle open, squeezing out just a little too much gel onto two fingers. The sharp scent of strawberry reaches his nose, and he casts aside the bottle before pressing those same fingers right against your clit.

You still don't wake.

Your hips roll against his hand, helping him to spread the gel as he strokes at your pussy gently, and then he pulls his hand away and waits. Watches.

The bottle said it'd need fifteen minutes to kick in, but already, your whines are pitching. It's almost too much, watching your hips buck against the air instead of him, and he's not a patient man, but he waits anyway.

He waits until your eyes open, until you shoot him the most desperate, fucked-out look he's ever seen despite him having barely touched you, and then, he reaches his hand into his boxers and pulls out his cock.

"Hey there, kitty. Feeling okay?"

"Noya," you whine, reaching one hand towards him weakly. "Please."

"Please? What is it?"

"Heat," you manage. "Please, Noya."

And fuck, if that doesn't break his resolve.

He's on top of you within seconds, your legs and tail both immediately circling his waist. He doesn't press into you immediately—his cock settles firm between your thighs as he kisses at your neck. The contact alone has you keening all the same, hips bucking to drag your dripping pussy along his length.

"S-something's—hah—diff'rent," you whine as he sucks a new mark into your neck. He still hasn't collared you,¹ doesn't know if you even want him to, but keeping you constantly marked does wonders. "'S different, Noya."

"Does it feel good?" he growls against your throat.

You nod frantically. "Too good. M' already—"

He pulls away and slides into you mid-sentence. You cut off, mouth hanging open in a silent scream as he bottoms out in an instant.

This is what he was looking for, much easier with the sensitizing gel—all it takes is all of him in you once for you to cum the first time today, walls desperately trying to milk his cock. You're normally so loud that he'd kept your panties at hand to gag you with, but now, you're pawing at his back silently, reduced to almost no words.

"Already what?" he teases, voice strained at the feeling of your plush heat around him. "You gotta finish your sentences, baby. I thought we had you better-trained than that."

You whimper, paw at his back as he begins to fuck into you. He snaps his hips harshly, brings a thumb up to press against your clit just to watch the way your ears twitch at the feeling. This, right here, is his favorite part of your heats: watching you, your eyes unfocused, breasts bouncing in one of his shirts because neither of you could be bothered to get it off you, as you squirm. Your tail unwraps from his waist, flicking at the air, and just for fun, he grabs it and gives it a tug.

There it is. You cry out, the noise echoing in the room along with the obscene squelch of your pussy as he takes you and takes you and takes you. "How's that? Feeling good?"

"Need—need you."

He nods, pushing up the shirt you're wearing so he can latch onto your breasts. The second he makes contact with your nipple, your back arches into him. He grins, rolls the bud between his thumb and forefinger. Tugs just to hear you keen.

He wonders, not for the first time, what this must feel like for you—your body on fire, driven by some deep urge to fuck until you can't breathe. Even the lightest touches pushing you to beg for more more more, like the rest of the time you're too embarrassed to admit you love him. He must've made you cum more than a hundred times and you still won't meet his eyes whenever you take his hand, but here you are like clockwork, babbling on his cock.

He's so busy teasing you that he nearly misses the signs of you approaching a second orgasm, too quick to stop. When you crash into that wall, he groans, holds you tight, grits his teeth through the feel of your nails on his back. He croons as you come down, takes the moment to slow his thrusts and really feel you cumming around him.

"You're doing so well for me, kitten. C'mon, just a little more."

Fucksake, you're drooling for him. Your tail flicks with every thrust, body twitching, and the sight is almost enough to push him over the edge on its own. It's your clawing at his back that really does it, though—nail digging into his skin, trailing hot lines across the flesh that he's sure to get teased for by someone later. He groans, sinks his teeth into your shoulder as he cums inside.

You let out a pleased, sprawling noise that he thinks is something like a broken yes as he fills you to the brim, but he can't make himself think about it too hard when his hips are stuttering.

"Does that feel better?"

"Y-yeah," you manage, gasping quietly for air as he pulls out.

"You gonna let me go get you some water, kitten?"

Your legs twitch around his waist. He laughs, effortlessly untangling you from him and patting your hip.

"You wait here. I'm gonna get us both something to eat before you get all horny again."

You whine, turning over to watch him tuck himself back into his shorts, take the phone off the tripod, and leave.

On his way to the kitchen, he checks his phone. No response from Ryuu or his boss yet. As an afterthought, he sends the same text to both of them:

Actually, it's looking kinda rough. I'll probably need tomorrow off, too.

Footnotes

1. In-universe, "collaring" is a legal process more than it is a kink thing. It's sort of a separate process that's somewhere between adoption (as in adopting a pet) and marriage (marriage) while also being a completely separate entity from either of these things. If you would like to know more I would happily meet ao3's comment character limit to explain it to you in excruciating detail.

Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet @dusstory