#aran's growing on me...

[sodaneko]

˚₊·͟͟͞͞➳❥ older Miya sister who is the calm between two storms. who picks her brothers up from preschool because their mother is working double shifts at the hospital and their father fucked off shortly after the twins were born. who is there when they loose their baby teeth and puts rainbow bandaids on their bruised knees. who wakes up in the morning finding the two of them curled up next to her after another nightmare. who teaches them how to ride a bike and tie their shoes. who gets asked the "who is your favorite brother?" question a dozen times a day and ends every argument by peppering their chubby little cheeks with kisses till they forget what they argued about to begin with. who never has a hand free when they go outside because they insist on holding hers. who can tell from the sound of nee-san alone what kind of mood they're in. who always finds the right words as they grow older and their sorrows grow bigger, too. who is riddled with guilt and anxiety when she moves out to go after her dream, feeling like she's leaving them behind. who knows it was all worth it once she sees them chasing their own dreams, too. who now has to tip her head back when she wants to look them in the eyes and who still gets asked who her favorite brother is; and the answer is always both. i love you both so, so much.

[kurooh]

I SAW RECS R OPEN YAAAY!! can i req morning sex w inarizaki boys where reader wakes them up bc shes needy?

if its too much, just with suna plspls? <3

☆ HIT IT IN THE MORNING ! — HAIKYUU

⊹���˚. featuring miya atsumu, miya osamu, aran ojiro, kita shinsuke, & suna rintarou messin’ around with you when the morning rolls around.

warnings. 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, consensual somnophilia, oral sex, cuddlefucking, creampies, squirting, minor stomach bulges, some fluff, prone bone.

xoxo, juno. hi!! this request is from summer 2024 & i really hope you see this nonnie 💘 i’m so sorry i didn’t get to this sooner

MIYA ATSUMU.

atsumu’s the heaviest sleeper around, sighing contentedly every now and then as he cycles through his dream, eyebrows jumping up and twitching when it only seems to grow more pleasant. it takes a little longer than it should for him to finally stir, his first yawn melting into a soft moan when he registers the sight between his legs.

this is when he wonders if he’s toeing the precipice of sleep and consciousness, too delighted to believe that this is a dream until you pull off of his cock with a pop. “good morning, tsumu,” you purr, a smile playing on your spit slick lips while you dip your head toward his glistening tip. “sleep well, baby?”

atsumu’s head falls back against the pillows when you take him in your mouth, unbearably tight and oh so hot. blond hair fans out around his head, reminiscent of a halo. “mornin’ to you too,” he chokes out, swallowing dryly, “haah, damn—that’s my girl. g-gonna make me cum like a—okay, shit.”

he can’t hear the giggle, but he sees the amusement dart across your face as you purposefully push harder, forcing his cock another inch deeper. from your place between his thighs—the best seat in the fuckin’ house—atsumu looks gorgeous, with his mussed hair, lidded eyes, and flushed cheeks.

“y’know, ‘s actually rude to laugh at yer husband if he stutters. if i wasn’t gonna—oh, oh—spread those pretty thighs right after this, i’d give ya somethin’ to laugh about.”

with a white-knuckled grip, atsumu fists the sheets between his fingers, fighting every instinct to jerk up into your mouth and make you choke. but you make it look like it’s too easy, gagging quietly and not even tearing up when it happens. frustrated, atsumu shoves a hand through his hair, yanking roughly at the tufts, just like you do whenever you’re on his lap and giving him a kiss.

“ya better be teasin’ me right now,” he says—whines—without any heat behind it. “d-don’t make me drag ya on top of me, babe.”

he nearly rips his hair out, back flying up and off the bed when you swallow around him. the squeeze of your throat and your audible struggle is almost too much for him to take—he might actually cum so hard he puts himself right back to sleep.

in order to save himself the embarrassment and give you the princess treatment you deserve, atsumu pauses, willing himself not to be greedy. his clammy palms settle on your shoulders, and he bites back a moan upon seeing the slight bulge in your throat.

“‘kay, wait—lemme eat ya at the same time, sweetheart. get up here.”

MIYA OSAMU.

“‘m so thankful i get to wake up next to ya every day. even better when yer the one wakin’ me up, my pretty lil sexomniac.”

“call me that again and i’m leaving this room before you can finish the sentence,” you snap, voice weaker than you’d like it to be, “don’t—fuck—test me, samu.”

osamu only snickers from above you, finding your threat ridiculous in its entirety. you wouldn’t voluntarily try to leave, and it’s not like you really could either; he’s pressing his chest to your back while he rocks his hips into you, both stretching and filling your cunt deliciously. with your hips and abdomen flat against the bed, he’s able to push deeper than usual—just as ‘he’ did in your dream, and it clearly had an impact on you. you’ve been together for years, but this is the first time you’ve woken up half naked and grinding all over a surprised though pleased osamu.

“uh huh,” he drawls, and his tip presses against your cervix in a filthy sort of french kiss. “well, ‘s nothing to be ashamed of, baby. and hey, i know ya wouldn’t go that fuckin’ easy, ya hate openin’ the restaurant on weekends.”

“in my dream, work didn’t exist,” you say blandly, growing impatient with his lack of energy. yes, it’s a saturday morning, but osamu said he’d fuck you the way the dream version of him did, and this is far from it. “stop teasing me and fuck me like you mean it, samu.”

a laugh bursts out of him, but soft hands find the curves of your hips and squeeze, blunt nails digging into your skin. “when’d ya get so bossy, angel?” and before you can retort something back, he follows up with, “not that ‘m complaining, though. ya tellin’ me what to do turns me on.”

you keen loudly when osamu goes from one to a hundred, ears ringing with the sharp smacks of skin against skin. heat surges through his body when he buries himself to the hilt inside you, groaning at the tight, all-encompassing squeeze of your cunt around him—you always take him so well, making enough noise to completely shut out the nagging of responsibilities in the back of his head.

it’s a saturday morning, and osamu is enjoying it to the fullest with you. his grip on your body tightens, palms growing damp against your skin.

“swear ya were fuckin’ made for it, angel,” a groan surges out of his chest, shaking his entire torso under its pressure, “i jus’ can’t get enough of ya, yer always drivin’ me crazy.”

he’s folded over you, burning face pressed into the crease of your neck while he babbles endlessly. everything he’s saying makes your stomach twist with arousal, but what makes it feel even better is the fact that all of it is true—the fit of your bodies couldn’t allude to anything else, and you do drive him a little insane every day.

“keep that pace ‘n you’ll make me cum, samu,” you pant, clawing your fingers into his hair, “mmmh, oh my god—g-gonna cum all over you—!”

osamu nods into your neck, rambling more nonsense that eventually fizzles into muffled gasps of affectionate petnames and such. you fall off the edge and straight into liquid euphoria soon after, gushing all over his cock with a pitched whine. and goddamn, he’s so lucky to cum deep inside you at the same time, gushing against your cervix while your walls milk him for everything he’s got. as he rides out the high, weakly bucking his hips into your ass, osamu holds you closely.

an irritating, grating sound (his ringtone that atsumu set for him) splits the pleasant come down in half and he groans, half collapsing on top of you. “have the manager open today,” you purr, more convincing than you should be, “i don’t wanna leave the bed just yet.” then, more quietly afterward, “also, my legs are numb.”

ARAN OJIRO.

“this good, baby?” aran murmurs into your neck, voice thick with sleep as a warm palm smooths over your abdomen, “feelin’ me here?”

absolutely, you are. he’s big, and not completely aware of just how much he’s stretching you out—it’s a tight fit, but you can take it. shuddering with heated bliss, you groan and press back against his chest, “how could i not?”

aran only laughs, easily holding up your leg while his hips slide slow against your ass. “yer cute, always complimentin’ me so much.”

stripes of sunlight scatter over the bed, split by the blinds and illuminating small specks of dust in the air. this is supposed to be a lazy morning, but it only is for one of you—he’s in no rush, opting to draw this out as long as he can before finally making a mess of you. his movements are slow and languid, endlessly aggravating.

as if he can hear your complaining, aran allows his fingers to coast down your belly and toward your aching clit. you cry out with relief, clawing at the sheets when he finally touches you, unceremoniously pressing the pad of his thumb into your clit. it’s only a light bit of pressure, but damn—sparks of heat burst along your spine and shoot straight to your pelvis.

your voice cracks over the words, hips chasing his touch. “ooh, r-right there.”

“right thereee?” he parrots, in a voice that makes your pussy throb with sheer need. warmth races to your cheeks and sizzles in your stomach, right where his hand had been—it’s not quite the same sensation, but your hand settles there. a gasp tears out of your throat when you actually feel him, his cock leaving an aran-shaped impression inside you.

“oh, oh my god,” your lower lip quavers, an audible tremble pushing through your words, “you’re jus’ so fucking deep, i can’t—”

“heh, and to think ya thought we just couldn’t go slow,” as each word leaves him, his thumb moves over your clit a little faster. “i’ll make ya cum hard just like this. whaddaya think, baby?”

“i want to,” breathless and teary, you nod frantically, feeling your toes curl as the arousal burns a crater in your stomach, “please, need you to keep going. hngh, it’s—it’s so damn good.”

aran’s voice is soft still, but a touch more suave now that he’s finally pushed past the sleepiness. strong and accentuated with veins, his forearm flexes as he pushes further between your trembling thighs. “that good, huh? good enough to make ya cry?”

a breathy yes! tumbles out of you, and aran continues, enjoying the intermittent spasming of your pussy. now that he’s completely focusing on you, there’s less movement of his hips, although he does push up every now and then to make you mewl.

“yeah, yes,” you stutter out, feeling a thin sheen of sweat starting to form on your forehead, “g-getting closer, don’t you dare stop.”

aran can both see and feel you digging the heel of your hand into that soft spot on your lower stomach. such a simple technique, and yet it amplifies every single sensation to the max—tears spring to the corners of your eyes, and he knows you definitely won’t be able to hold out much longer.

pleasure looks ethereal on you, complimenting your already pretty features and flattering you in a way that makes his heart swell. it’s all for him, all because of him—fuck, he could cum to just the thought.

so aran holds off, letting you twist and sob on his cock while your hips struggle to decide on chasing his touch or running away from it. there’s so much sensitivity that it might just send you into overstimulation before orgasm, something you haven’t experienced together yet.

“cumming, i’m gonna cum,” you squeal, voice breaking and pitching into a whine when the ecstasy washes over you. you can’t quite breathe by the time you’re coming down from your high, trembling all over and yet still thinking about when the next will come. aran presses a chaste kiss to your temple and playfully flicks a finger over your sensitive clit, because he can already grasp what you’re thinking about.

“finally ready to move past the warmup, babygirl? i hope yer not too tired, i haven’t even gotten ta properly fuck ya yet.”

KITA SHINSUKE.

shinsuke sometimes gets hungry at night, so he ends up heading into the kitchen to eat an apple or he’ll push his head between your thighs. he wouldn’t have it any other way until he woke up to your cunt hovering right over his mouth, soaked with bittersweet arousal.

“oh, shin,” you moan, hiccupping over the words, “y’always do me so good—god, yes, jus’ like that!”

his tongue strokes over you again, starting at the bottom of your slit and dragging all the way up to your clit, silky soft yet rough. shinsuke thinks you sound oh so pretty, whining and whimpering for him with your fingers twisting in his hair.

“ride it,” he groans, voice muffled. to make sure you get the memo, he pulls your hips down encouragingly. “use my tongue, sweetheart. yeah, ya got it.”

shinsuke’s proud to let you steal his air away, if it’s for something as meaningful as this—you’re so focused on making use of his tongue that you don’t even notice his hips uselessly rutting up into the air.

the air fills with obscene, wet squelches and the smell of his spit all over your inner thighs. you’re both bending forward and arching back as the impending high sears its way through your entire body in the form of countless sparks of heat. “‘s coming,” you sob, words bunching together, “i - shin, it’s gonna be messy.”

your orgasm crescendos before it finally rips through you, cunt squirting waterfalls all over him. shinsuke desperately laves his tongue against you, sucking down everything you’re giving him without a shred of hesitation—it’s just so much stimulation that it subverts the length of your high, and a delightful shriek tears out of your throat.

“shin,” you plead, lower lip wobbling as you try to twist your hips away, but to no avail. he’s got you, and he intends to finish this meal, just like he’s always been taught. “i won’t—shit, i can’t cum again just yet! if you’d wait a second—”

mercifully, he loosens his grip on your hips but still doesn’t allow you to go. he looks up, an eyebrow raised expectantly as though he doesn’t believe you. no nonsense as always, it seems.

“ya can and ya will,” he says simply, shutting you up before returning to flicking his tongue against your twitching pussy. now that you’re more lucid than before, you’re able to pick up on the noisy creaking coming from beneath you. it’s when you swivel your head around that you actually notice the dampening spot on the front of his boxers—white cum seeping through the fabric.

shinsuke kind of notices you looking and feels his cheeks grow a degree warmer. it’s nothing to be embarrassed of, he knows, but still.. maybe he can help ease the process of forgetting along with another orgasm or two.

he clears his throat, letting the tip of his tongue circle your clit. “eyes on me, c’mon. we ain’t done just yet.”

SUNA RINTAROU.

“rin,” you whisper-hiss, voice scratchy with sleep and tight with unmistakable desperation. “open your eyes.”

‘is there a fire?’ is the first thing he thinks, until he blinks the sleep out of his cloudy eyes and sees the genuine distress on your face, feels you sitting directly on top of his hard cock. the need for friction is intoxicating, especially with such thin layers of fabric between your bodies, and—wait. rintarou can actually feel himself leaking precum through his boxers, and there’s a damp spot forming right where you’re sitting on him.

“aw, baby,” rintarou says dryly, palm lazily skimming over your bare thigh, “thought you had enough earlier. what happened?”

“well,” you begin hastily, fingers slipping under his waistband to tug the clothing away inch by inch, “i was really hot, so i woke up, and i was still soaked from earlier. also, you were humping my ass.”

if rintarou wasn’t as tired as he is from having fucked you in more than three different positions, he’d playfully push you off him for making him sound like a dog with a stuffed animal. instead, he settles on wrinkling his nose emphatically, hand dropping back to the mattress.

“okay. just for that, i’m not helping you out over here.”

you deflate, having just lifted his boxers almost off of his thighs. him and his damn attitude, always acting up in your moments of need. rintarou mentally takes a photo of your disappointed face and saves it into his long term memory, thoroughly pleased with himself.

“nooo,” you whine, debauched, and his dick starts to get harder. “what if i ride you?”

because he’s too petty for his own good, rintarou mimics your tone with a smirk on his face. “yesss. you can try, but it’s not like you can handle it.”

“uh huh,” you look down your nose at him, all while angling his cock so you can sit down on it. rintarou’s breath hitches in his throat when your pussy swallows him whole, hot and tight and so damn wet as it squeezes firmly around him. you huff out a breath, throwing him a proud look—but he notices the pinch of your brows, the minute tremble of your lower lip. “see? what was i just saying, rin?”

“right,” he says, folding his arms behind his head to sit and watch. that same snark makes its way through just the one word, and you’re determined to fuck it right out of him—so you set your hands on his chest and properly plant your feet on the bed, on either side of him.

“holy fuck, rin,” you mewl, sounding like some kind of fucking pornstar, all natural and operating off of sheer lust, “you’re hittin’—yes, right there!”

sweat blossoms between your thighs and his, allowing for more slip n slide as you slam down on him with enough force to rattle him to his core. rintarou’s never been fucked before, but this is definitely something he could get used to—his cock seems to be thinking along the same lines, having the audacity to throb with sensitivity this quickly.

your babbling continues, growing filthier and filthier the more you lose yourself in the moment. there’s something so delicious about the way you’re taking what you want from him, and the realization ignites an inferno in the pit of his chest. “s-so deep, that’s it,” he sees your pretty eyes roll back the millisecond his tip plunges into a soft, spongy spot somewhere around your cervix, “i could just—i could cum just from this.”

rintarou realizes that you’ve woken his ass all the way up, and you’re also proving him wrong, doing both at the same time. what is he supposed to say, now that you’ve got him choking on his own words? he absolutely knows his fate is sealed when a bitten moan slips out of him and you arch a brow in response.

“what did i tell you, rin?” you ask smugly, voice still strained as you brush a hand along his clenching abs, “deep down, y’know i can handle you.”

[emiliaoleary]

Hooking rugs that look like dogs

Here's how I do it:

The process I use is called rug hooking (not latch hook or punch needle or tufting, though it is the forerunner of the latter two techniques). Rugs are hooked by pulling loops of fabric strips or yarn through the holes of a base fabric with a coarse open weave, like burlap, or linen, or rug warp. The loops are pulled through the fabric with a squat-handled hook whose business end is shaped like a crochet hook.  There are no knots and the loops aren't sewed down in any way.  The whole thing stays put just by the tension of all those loops packed together in the weave of the foundation fabric.

This isn't a true detailed tutorial but a walk-through of my particular process. The same information is on my web page, emilyoleary.com .

I hook with yarn, rather than with cut strips of wool fabric, which is what many rug hookers use.  I can get a looser, more organic distribution of loops with yarn than I could with wool strips, which are hooked in neat lines. 

Mostly I use wool yarn. In terms of yarn weight, I can use DK, worsted, or Aran.  If I'm using thicker yarn, I leave more holes un-hooked; if I'm using finer yarn, I hook more densely or double up lengths of it.  I particularly like using single ply yarns (like Brown Sheep Lamb's Pride or Malabrigo Worsted).  I don't keep count, but I think I usually use around two dozen types and colors of yarn per dog.  

This is my yarn wall in my apartment. Mostly brown and gray yarn!

I start from a small drawing in my sketchbook, then I head to FedEx office to use a copy machine, blowing up the drawing repeatedly and experimenting with how big the dog rug should be. 

After transferring the image onto my linen, I immediately go over it with Sharpie, because the Saral is really difficult to see and really easy to rub off.

The rug is held taut by a PVC quilting frame that I set on my lap.

I push my hook down through the fabric with my right hand and my left hand stays below the fabric and guides the yarn while I pull it up and through with the hook. Not every hole in the fabric is hooked. Hooking every hole would make the rug too dense. I do hook pretty densely, though-- If you pick up one of my rugs you’ll see they have a slight curl to them, which is because they’re hooked pretty tight. I'm using all different weights and types of yarn, so it's a challenge to keep the overall tension even.

I hook my loops at varying heights to create a very low relief. Sometimes I trim the loops to make them fluffier or wispier or to shape a particular part. I look at a reference photo while I work and pull out and redo sections a lot.

My q-snap frame can accommodate the growing dog rug. I have extenders to make it bigger and I can clamp around my hooking.

The back of a rug looks like lines of little stitches. The lines are little worm trails snaking around because lines of hooking are not supposed to cross over each other. It's important to start a new length of yarn rather than cross over a stitch you already made! I read this when I first started and took it to heart. It makes it much easier to undo and redo hooking if you have to (and I redo sections A Lot). It also keeps the back from getting too bulky and resulting in uneven wear on the back of a functional rug that gets floor use.

When I’m done hooking everything I turn the rug over and brush watered-down Sobo glue on the edges of the dog, making sure to get one or two of the outermost lines of hooking. I do a couple coats of this thinned out glue. I'm careful not to use so much that it seeps to the front of the rug. When the glue is dry I cut the rug out, but I don't cut so close that the loops don't have any linen to keep them in.

​ It generally takes me at least several months to finish one dog rug. My hooking frame and yarn bag are very portable (though bulky) so I can hook out and about at coffee shops or the library or a brewery if there's enough space and light.

Hooking in the wild makes me an ambassador for making things in general and rug hooking in particular. I answer people's questions and always emphasize how relatively easy it is to get started hooking. Sometimes I get anxious that other people will hook rugs that look like mine but better, but I think that working in a traditional medium means you should share your knowledge for the good of the craft.

[cc1306]

hopeless romantic! suna, who can’t stop zoning out, while you’re telling him all about the fight the twins got in during second period. he stares at you blankly, thinking about the way your nose crinkles from laughter as you’re talking to him. cute.

hopeless romantic! suna, who asks, “sorry, what were you saying?” in response to you waving your hand in his face and snapping him out of his daze. with a slight blush on his face, he turns his head, mortified that you caught him failing to pay attention.

“seriously…keep up!” you reprimand him with a half-serious frown and a pout, and he forces himself to pay full attention not wanting to subject himself to such embarrassment again.

hopeless romantic! suna, who stays up late that night facetiming osamu, as he rambles on about some argument he and atsumu got into earlier in the day.

“sunarin, pay attention! quit thinking about [name], i’m talking to you,”

“i wasn’t thinking about her,” he defends, knowing full well that he was wondering if you were still awake before osamu interrupted.

“right, and i’m not the better twin. you know, you should just confess to her before it’s too late. someone else might make a move before you do, then you’ll never get to be with her.”

osamu’s statement made suna think hard.

“…yeah well she doesn’t like me like that. we’re just friends ‘samu.”

“you two are insufferable. let me know when you grow a pair and finally ask her out,” osamu groans out, growing tired of suna’s crippling fear of rejection.

“whatever… im tired now, bye,” suna cut off osamu’s rant with a yawn, before he ended the call.

would she really go out with someone else?

today was the day. suna decided that today would be the day he put his fear to the side and told [name] how he felt. he felt his hands tremble every time she was near and his heart pound, as adrenaline surged through his body.

during your lunch break, you sat on the roof together, just the two of you alone. suna saw this moment as his opportunity, the perfect chance to try and confess his feelings to you. you were currently rambling to him again, telling a story he honestly tried to listen to, but it proved difficult considering his heart was beating out of his chest, as he thought of how you’d respond to what he was about to tell you.

“and then aran and kita told me-“

“[name], i-“ he interrupts you mid-sentence, but his voice got caught in his throat. he cursed himself for being so nervous, all he had to do was say the three words but nothing came out.

“yeah, what’s up?” you ask him, as you drink from your strawberry milk carton contentedly.

“i…umm… i have something to tell you,”

okay yes, good start. just tell her.

“okay…should i be worried?” you ask, starting to get concerned about how serious suna suddenly became.

you thought he’d been acting strange the past week, like how he’s been zoning out recently when speaking to you, or just staring strangely. you’re getting the vibe that somethings wrong with him. maybe he’s sick? maybe he doesn’t want to be your friend anymore? you have no clue what to think, so you chose to hear him out.

“no…well, maybe.”

he felt his hands getting clammy and nervously rubbed them on his trousers. his eyes darted everywhere, looking at everything in the room except back at your own expecting pair. he realised he’d been silent for too long - he needed to say something now.

“i have to tell you how much you mean to me. you might not realise it, but i’m obsessed with you. i think of you before i sleep, and you’re the first thing i think of when i wake up. you consume me, and i don’t know what i would do without you,” he blurted out, speaking so quickly you wouldn’t have been able to keep up if you weren’t listening so intently.

you sat there, stunned in silence. of all things he could’ve said to you, you certainly didn’t expect this. he took your silence as a signal to continue his speech.

“i need you in ways that surely can’t be healthy,” he chuckled, releasing a nervous breath.

“i-“

“you don’t have to accept it. i don’t expect you to tell me you feel the same, but i’d wait forever for you. if you want to be just friends then we will. but you have to tell me what to do. i like you so much. you can say you hate me. you can say you don’t feel the same. just tell me the truth.”

he couldn’t muster up the courage to look you in the eyes, so he kept his gaze trained to the ground, staring hard at the laces of his shoes.

“suna..” you started, forcibly sucking in a breath of air since you felt like all of it had been knocked out of your lungs.

“that’s the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever said to me. thank you. i don’t now what i’d do without you either because i like you too,” you confessed as he rushed to hold you in his arms in a warm hug.

“thank God, i don’t know what i’d do if you rejected me,” he joked, covering up his anxiety with humour.

“i could never reject you,” you beamed at him in return. he felt his heart explode.

hopeless romantic! suna, who returned to last period that day with a smile from ear to ear, as he entered the classroom hand in hand with you by his side.

[depravitycentral]

Just a quick passing thought, but I think it's so interesting to know what different yanderes do right in the moment of their orgasm - do they freeze up? Do their hips keep plunging against yours, the movements strained and uneven? Or maybe they reach out and squeeze, needing something to ground themselves with while they whimper and gasp out your name over and over again?

Thinking about yanderes who freeze up and just stare as their orgasm washes over them. The ones who let out this choked gasp as they see white blurs in the edges of their vision, every muscle in their body going taut and freezing up and their jaw dropping wide open because fuck. You just feel too good and they can't help but stare down at your pretty body - naked and sweating and trembling all for them them them, your eyes glassy and wide and spit smeared across your lips from where they'd been kissing you. (More like eating you, really, with the vigor and amount of tongue, but it was passionate and sweet and only a little bit one-sided, so that's still kissing, right?) They're scared to move as their cock throbs and pulses inside of you, the feeling of your tight, warm walls making their head spin and honest to god tears well up in the corner of their eyes from the sensation of you.

You're just too much - if they were to move and feel friction against their oversensitive cock they'd let out this pathetic little whine, a sound that makes them flush bright red and avoid eye contact with you because it's just all so embarrassing and needy. So instead, they hover over you, abs clenching and balls noticeably pulsing against the curve of your ass as they feel each and every spurt of cum push into you, the sensation leaving them breathless and burying their face into your neck, little mantras and chants of your name filling your ears. Please come for me, please please please please - they tell you as the last few drops ooze out of them and directly into you.

Asahi Azumane, Tobio Kageyama, Tsutomu Goshiki, Tooru Oikawa, Atsumu Miya, Tomura Shigaraki, Taishiro Toyomitsu, Kurapika Kurta, Knuckle Bine, Giyuu Tomioka, Gyutaro

Thinking of men who lose control of their hips as their orgasm hits them. As soon as the rushed, husky groan of 'm coming, take it, fuck take it slips out of them, the rest of it is a blur. They aren't in control of themselves - their hips move on their own, following some carnal, natural instinct to fuck into you deeper, harder, longer until he's absolutely spent. He's physically crushing you, his hips pounding into you so hard that you're moved further and further up the bed (or the floor, if they couldn't quite make it there), your body merely dead weight. It stems from this urge to fuck their cum into you as deeply as they can, an instinct to claim and mark and breed you overclouding their mind.

There's no moment of rest with them, even after they've given you everything they have - their hips still twitch, pushing forward ever so slightly and making them hiss in pain-twinged pleasure, the oversensitivity and the gooey, warm feeling of their cum coating your walls making them bare their teeth and practically glare at you. You just feel too good - they're an animal around you, truly, and it's only after they're spent that they'll swallow heavily, licking their lips and letting themselves really look at you. To see the way you're panting, how your eyes are all wide, to feel the stinging against their back where you've clawed at them. The afterglow makes them giddy, and even if they don't show it, you'll feel it - the way they slowly grow hard inside of you again is difficult to ignore, after all.

Hajime Iwaizumi, Aran Ojiro, Daichi Sawamura, Yuu Nishinoya, Keishin Ukai, Sanemi Shinazugawa, Akaza, Phinks Magcub, Uvogin, Hisoka Marrow, Enji Todoroki, Keigo Takami, Kai Chisaki

Thinking of men who have to reach out and grab something to ground themselves with as their high approaches. It feels like a tidal wave, like there's something warm and big and hot building up in their navel, the sensation making their toes curl and their eyes cross and their muscles spasm and a hand reach out blindly, feeling, squeezing, groping - It's their tether to Earth as the wave crashes and breaks, ropes of cum shooting from their swollen, sensitive tip, something vaguely resembling your name falling from their lips as they pant into your mouth. It's the only thing keeping them aware of their surroundings, of you, as the pleasure overwhelms them.

And they're not especially picky about where they're grabbing onto for support, either - anything that's fatty and nearby will do. Your thigh, your hips, your stomach, your breast, your arm, hell, even your neck will do. Thick fingers wrap around the flesh, squeezing hard enough to leave light, finger-shaped bruises on your skin, their muscles still twitching against you as they groan and grunt, hips occasionally bucking into yours but losing momentum. You can actually feel how their orgasm and your cunt are affecting them this way - the way they grasp onto you even tighter when you accidentally clench down on them, the hiss they let out through clenched teeth seeming to make that spurt shoot into you even harder. And their hand doesn't always stay idle, either - they're actively moving it around as their orgasm continues on, switching from your chest to your hip to your cheek and back against to settle heavily against your nipple, burying their face between your tits as they groan and pathetically hump at you. And while they'll feel a bit guilty for the marks the next day, they can't hide the tent forming in their pants or the way they have to clear their throat to avoid telling you that they needs to leave more.

Nobunaga Hazama, Shalnark, Leorio Paradinight, Tetsurou Kuroo, Koushi Sugawara, Wakatoshi Ushijima, Lev Haiba, Gyomei Himejima, Douma, Kyojuro Rengoku, Toshinori Yagi, Spinner

[neiptune]

this town is fake but you're the real thing

cw: 11k wc, female reader, social media relationship, suna downloads an app that randomly matches anonymous users with each other because osamu thinks it'll help him open up more, strangers to lovers, romance, pining, so much texting, suna is as emotionally constipated as it gets

Against all expectations, it’s Osamu who managed to get under his skin.

An innocent night out to celebrate the new Onigiri Miya branch in Shizuoka, a few beers shared on a bench by the port, what started as innocent conversation about each other’s dating life soon turning into a painfully precise evaluation of why he can’t seem to find someone worth keeping around.

“You don’t really open up to them”, his friend shrugged.

“I open up to them plenty. I’ve been with Yuki for three months”, Suna refuted such harsh remark with a scowl.

“Yeah”, Samu mused, “have you ever shared anything about your friends and family? What’s the most vulnerable thought or feeling you discussed?”.

Rintaro took a moment to reflect, begrudging silence weighing more each second spent quiet.

“She met Motoya”.

Osamu rolled his eyes, “Shit, you’re right— can’t believe ya didn’t propose. Meeting Komori’s the real deal”.

“You know, if I wanted to hang out with the twin who’d be a pain in my ass, I would’ve called your brother”.

With a snort and a handsome grin, Osamu lightly bumped his shoulder against Suna’s. “Ya love us”, then his gaze softened as he took a swig from the bottle, “I’m just sayin’. Maybe a relationship is not what you need right now”.

“Then what do I need?”, despite a fiery remonstrance, Rintaro found himself leaning onto Osamu’s judgement. He’d always been very good at reading people, much like his brother, but Samu’s approach was always balanced and, most importantly, sincere. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps there was something he’s missing about himself, something that shined bright for his best friend to catch instead.

“A connection, dumbass”, Osamu lightly pat his shoulder, “it doesn’t have to be romantic. It definitely doesn’t have to be sexual. You need to find someone you can talk to”.

“I talk—”

“Someone who isn’t us. Not me, not ‘Tsumu”, he ignored Rintaro’s indignant scoff, “not Shinsuke, not Aran. You need to get out of your comfort zone with someone new. A stranger!”.

“A stranger? You want me to stop someone on the street and casually ask them to listen to whatever trauma is tied to my fear of flying?”.

“Start small”, Osamu’s eyes glinted with the excitement that a good idea usually brings, “try that app Bokuto was trying so hard to get Sakusa to download. Matchpal, was it?”.

“Sounds like a great way to have a fifty year old creep flash me with a dick pic. No, thank you”.

“I’d think about it. Ya know, we’re not getting any younger. Like ‘Tsumu said, you—”

“I should hurry up before I grow old with only my emotional unavailability to keep me company, I remember”, Rintaro finished his beer with a grimace. Osamu chuckled, eventually dropped the topic, but the suggestion remained unpleasantly hanging over his head both like a succulent fruit and a risky presage.

So now he’s slumped in the living room of the spacious apartment the EJP provides, a quiet Friday evening spent cooking some stew for dinner and facetiming his family. The tv is on as a distraction and an easy way out should things get uncomfortable. Surely Dwight will keep him grounded.

Suna’s already downloaded the app but it takes one episode and a half to muster the courage to actually tap on it. 

The interface is pretty easy to navigate. It seems he’s supposed to create a minimalist profile first and then he’d be free to start a new, random chat. Users can opt out anytime or, if they wish to keep a specific person as their anonymous match, add them as a friend and pin the conversation within their personal directory. Nothing too complicated.

Suna’s patience wears thin easily and after a few attempts at picking unavailable usernames, he settles for crysnoopy. Finally, original enough at last.

Since not revealing one’s identity seems to be the point of the entire thing, he can’t upload a profile picture and instead has to select one random avatar from the default library. He picks a cartoon frog with big eyes and no mouth on a light green background.

There he is, an anonymous online presence on a stupid app. His profile only contains a nickname, he/him pronouns, age and a cute icon. No interests listed, no boundaries, not a single space where he could leave a polite note— please don’t send unsolicited dick pics. Not that he ever plans on requesting one.

Suna starts a few new chats, faceless identities either ending the conversation right away upon his dry and unoriginal hey or being as odd as one would imagine strangers in an anonymous community could be.

Lavenderhaze

-> Hi.

Lavenderhaze

-> How are you?

He sinks deeper into the nice couch pillows Atsumu forced him to get.

crysnoopy

-> hey. all good, wbu?

Lavenderhaze

-> Good, bored.

Lavenderhaze

-> Should we exchange nudes or something?

Rintaro sighs. Hesitation is laced into the delay of his thumb but eventually he taps the skip option, Osamu’s ominous words still ringing loud and clear in his head. It’s not what he downloaded the dumb app for, it’s not what he needs right now. Fuck, maybe he really should’ve called Atsumu instead.

A new chat opens after a short loading time and his nose wrinkles when he realizes that he’ll probably have to send the first message this time. The username staring back at him is original enough to make Suna take a few seconds to think of something equally entertaining to say. The whole thing is never going to work if he doesn’t take it seriously and actually puts some effort in it, right?

He looks up from his phone for a second. Then, a loud ping makes him jump.

Unfinishedusernam

-> When you shower, do you actively wash your legs or just let soapy water rinse down on them?

Rintaro almost huffs out a laugh. Original username and approach? A good enough start to ignite the hope of finally be talking to someone sane.

crysnoopy

-> I don’t shower.

A beat passes, then the small animation of a hand idly scribbling with a pencil indicates that you’re typing something back.

Unfinishedusernam

-> That’s hot.

-> Why the username?

Suna’s lips twitch, not a smile but almost. He wants to type an equally sarcastic reply, brush the question off and maybe ask something more interesting instead. But then he remembers what he’s doing and forces an honest reply out of his fingers.

crysnoopy

-> my little sister used to scream like an eagle when she cried, the one thing that always shut her up was a snoopy plush I won at the arcade.

Suna barely registers that his leg starts bouncing lightly as he watches the little hand appear on the screen once more.

Unfinishedusernam

-> I’m glad it’s something cute :)

-> Lowkey thought you were an incel

This time he really does snort out half a laugh.

crysnoopy

-> if I was I would’ve asked why your username is edging me.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Fair. So… you do shower, right?

crysnoopy

-> I promise I do.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Damn, my incel detector has truly failed me.

-> You seem suspiciously normal btw, I feel like we could have a conversation that doesn't involve dicks

Suna’s hand blindly reaches for the remote to lower the volume of the show he currently doesn’t seem to need as additional emotional support.

crysnoopy

-> likewise. wanna make it official?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Jeez, at least buy me dinner first

Rintaro’s beat to it, before he can even click on the option there’s already a colorful notification popping up on his screen, informing that he has a new friend request.

He accepts it.

It took some convincing for Samu to agree but, eventually, the spot on the pull-out couch became his. Between Hyogo and Shizuoka, with imminent plans of further expanding in Tokyo, he’s always travelling to make sure the shops are keeping their top quality standard high. The Shizuoka branch is still too recent for him to retreat back to his hometown for good, so he’s there most of the time. Suna had to call him an idiot a million times before Osamu accepted his hospitality, never one to ask for anything, always first in line to help others instead. Suna thinks he still didn’t call him an idiot enough times.

They’re both gone most of the day anyway, between the restaurant and training. The season is about to start and the trip to Osaka feels more imminent than ever, Suna knows he has to be at the top of his game to perform exactly how he’s expected to. Which means, no distractions. He does a good job at avoiding those, dating apps left unopened and the way home now shorter than usual, to circumvent his favorite bakery. Those blueberry muffins will have to wait. Samu’s healthier alternative with gram oats and bananas is one hell of a substitute anyway.

Suna loves his friend, he really does. The house feels less empty when he’s around and there’s always a homemade meal tucked somewhere in the fridge. They share breakfast when they get up at the same time and night conversations at the kitchen table if Rintaro manages to stay awake late enough to wait for Osamu to be back.

But sometimes, being alone is easier. No explanations owed for the one distraction he seems unable to give up, no curious raise of the eyebrows he’d have to confront when the familiar ping from his phone prompts an immediate reaction the wrong twin would tease him endlessly for.

He’s always been a dry texter or so his friends, teammates and relatives have always told him. Suna didn’t ever think he was supposed to make an effort to become better at written communication, or communication in general. But now, there’s you. A faceless, perhaps not entirely sane someone who makes him check his notifications way too often, insides spasming when the message doesn’t come from one of his groupchats and the Matchpal icon flashes across the screen instead.

Suna likes talking to you, so much that he often finds himself being the one to text first. It’s okay if you’ll take hours to get back to him sometimes, he knows for certain that the message is eventually going to light up his screen and that’s enough to make him smile. Sometimes you text first, at either ungodly hours in the middle of the night or during the day, if you’re bored at work. He doesn’t know what your job is, you don’t know precisely what Suna does either because, again, anonymity. The only detail he’s familiar with is that you’re often around “wearing but rewarding humans”, as you’d once put it. The one thing you know about him is that he’s an athlete, something you had briefly teased him for.

When he’s not talking to you, when parts or even the entirety of days that used to belong to him and his routine alone are devoid of your messages, Suna finds himself thinking. Or rather, imagining. There’s a lot he doesn’t know and he refuses to overwhelm you with questions, therefore his mind desperately tries to fill in the gaps to no avail. Are you spending the evening reading a book, watching a tv show? Did you cook dinner or order takeout? How happy are you that it’s been raining for three days straight on a scale of ‘I can only function if it’s sunny and bright’ to ‘leave me in a storm and watch me flourish’ ?

Most times, Suna simply plugs the charging cable into is phone, switches off the bedside light and hopes to wake up to one of your texts. They seem to be making an increasingly dangerous difference between a good day and a bad one. He’s not entirely sure it’s ideal.

Unfinishedusernam

-> The humans are testing me today. Whatever you’re doing, I hope you’re having fun!

-> Ah, look what my mom baked yesterday. Told her I have a friend who’d love these :)

-> [IMG_65209]

Rintaro, elbows resting on his knees and towel haphazardly thrown around the neck, smiles at the screen. God, he hasn’t had a blueberry muffin in over a month, but what he’s really focusing on is that you’ve mentioned him. To your mom. There’s a low, static buzz in his ears now, punctuated by the thumps of his heart growing louder. It makes you feel more real, it also makes something simmer in his stomach.

crysnoopy

-> I’m at training.

-> They look really good. Send me one immediately. How was family dinner?

He’s enabled auto-capitalization for the first time in his life, for god’s sake. The Inarizaki groupchat was so disturbed Atsumu decided to apply the same additional authenticator method used by his online banking and forced Suna to reply to a secret question. One only the real Suna would know the answer to.

He successfully demonstrated the needed personal knowledge concerning the color of Aran’s lucky underwear in high school and thus confirmed his identity.

Unfinishedusernam

-> It was nice! I love spending time with them

-> How’s training?

Rintaro finds himself wanting to give his identity shape too. It’s the first time he’s seen your hand, holding that tupperware underneath the dim light of your mom’s kitchen. He wants to feel more real for you, too.

He snaps a picture of his hand holding a half-empty water bottle, careful to hide his shoes. Not that you’d be able to immediately tell he plays volleyball from those, but just in case. You do get to see part of his legs though, shorts and their very recognizable colors kept out of frame.

crysnoopy

-> [IMG_65209]

-> Almost done, very tired

He watches as the little hand scribbles, then stops. It resumes the writing, then stops once more. His leg is bouncing again, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. He straight up jumps when, suddenly, someone loudly falls on the empty spot next to him and the bench creaks.

“We’re on a roll today, my blocks are almost as good as yours”, Washio grins, temples shining with sweat. He briefly glances down at the phone Suna almost drops when it vibrates against his palm.

“You okay?”.

“Yes”, Rintaro clears his throat, makes a show of shoving the phone right back into his bag, “you’re in shape today. Motoya too”.

“Ready for Osaka!”, Komori fist-bumps Tatsuki right before sitting next to him with an exaggerated groan, “hey, is your friend still in town? The Miya twin. We could go out tonight, get some drinks”.

“We literally leave in three days”, Suna’s fist lightly lands on his teammate’s head.

“Mocktails”, Motoya sticks his tongue out.

“I feel like I already see your faces enough. And I’m about to see them even more”.

“Rintaro don’t be a grumpy asshole, challenge once again failed”, Tatsuki rolls his eyes, “you’re always glued to that damn phone when you’re not playin’. Let’s go out, have fun, possibly get laid?”.

Suna sighs heavily. “Fine. I wanted to visit Samu’s new shop anyway, we can have dinner and take him with us afterwards”. He should get Osamu a gift, a nice plant or a maneki-neko. He’ll stop by a few shops on the way home, he decides.

“Now you’re talking!”, Washio smacks his shoulder with way too much energy, “let’s ask Nagito too, he’s gonna love some free onigiri!”.

“Hey, we’re payin’ for those”.

“Sure we are!”.

“I’m serious, you ass—”

“That’s enough gossiping, boys. Get back to work!”, by muscle memory, their legs react to coach’s boisterous voice and all three men jump up from their seats. Suna spends the rest of the late afternoon training thinking about the text message hidden in his gym bag.

It’s way past 6PM when training ends, the last half an hour was spent studying opponent videos and then simulating different match scenarios. Suna’s brain feels fried and on any other day he’d be so ready to get a massage, eat a well-balanced dinner and melt on his couch in front of a good tv show until his eyelids would grow heavy.

Instead, he takes the long way home, legs heavy as he explores different shops in search for the perfect gift. He settles for a very beautiful, handmade, porcelain maneki-neko, left paw raised instead of the right one because Suna knows Osamu will always care about having more customers who trust his restaurant rather than having more money.

The shop owner puts the gift in an elegant box and seals the bag with a delicate ribbon, he thanks the old lady with a deep bow and despite his limbs feeling heavy with fatigue, as he breathes in the cool air of the evening, Suna is content. He thinks of the message sitting pretty in his pocket as he heads home.

Unfinishedusernam

-> You have really nice hands

He didn’t open it, not yet. It’s reassuring to have the notification sitting there, untouched and polished against his lockscreen.

It shouldn’t matter that a stranger on an app is complimenting his hands, it really shouldn’t. Then why does it, somehow? Suna is happy you find his hands nice, which feels like a recipe for disaster. As he walks past his favorite bakery, he remembers you mentioning how you enjoy grabbing croissants for breakfast at times. When he told you that he was about to leave for a retreat with his team, after asking if their destination was one among Tokyo, Osaka and Yokohama, you proceeded to list all your favorite cafes, bakeries and restaurants for each of them. Just in case he had the time and wanted to check them out. As much as he tries to keep his distance, something as trivial as mentioning the correct city possibly resulting too risky, you always seem to go out of your way to reach closer. Taking the time to prepare three separate lists of suggestions while simultaneously respecting his boundaries is an effort he deems… unexpected. It feels weird in the best way. He almost wants to tell you it’s Osaka after all, give you something real, something new to hold on to. Maybe he’ll even tell you it’s volleyball.

“Coming home from another bad date?”, the unexpected quip startles Suna as he looks up from the sidewalk to find his not so friendly neighbor directing a saccharine smile at him, trash bags in hand. Not too long ago, he would’ve asked if she needed help with those.

“At least I still go on dates”, he purposefully eyes her attire, hoodie and sweatpants. Suna knows she’s just trying to annoy him, she can see the gym bag.

“With women who are blind, deaf, mute and desperate?”, she offers a sly smile and he rolls his eyes.

“That’s not a very flattering description of yourself, now”.

She huffs out a sarcastic laugh but Suna can see right through it: the irritation and the embarrassment.

“Always a pleasure running into you, Suna”.

“Likewise”, he smirks, “careful with those bags”.

Suna says goodbye with an unbothered wave of the hand despite her giving him the finger, positively happy that for a good while the chances of running into his neighbor will be reduced to zero. Osaka can’t come fast enough.

The thing is, he was surprised she lived so close when they first started chatting on a regular dating app. When Suna confirmed they were essentially in the same neighborhood, she was the one to propose a dinner right away.

Truthfully, it had been a bad day for him, for a number of reasons. Training was terrible, he was worried sick about his little sister’s sprained ankle, his own tendinitis was giving him hell and Atsumu had decided to call him to talk his ear off for an entire hour about the surprise party they were supposed to throw for Kita’s birthday. Yet, he didn’t feel like bailing on his date, so he forced himself out of the house with the worst mood.

Dinner was terrible. Awkward, tense, her growing increasingly impatient about his lack of responsiveness, him snapping at the tiniest, dumbest inputs. The entire night ended up being such a disaster she left halfway through her creamy salmon pasta, a few banknotes tucked underneath a glass of water, enough to pay half the bill. He remembers deflating in his seat, feeling terrible for five minutes, finishing his own dinner and then leaving as if nothing happened.

Suna thought about texting, maybe even apologizing, but he just never found it in himself to actually do it. It was just a bad date, bad dates happen. He’d never seen her before, or maybe simply didn’t pay enough attention to notice her presence, so there was no way he could’ve anticipated just how fucking often he’d run into her from that day onwards. She never failed to remind him of her resentment and, frankly, that ended up igniting his.

Of course Osamu’s leftovers are on his kitchen counter, neatly wrapped in tin foil. He remembers how hungry he’d feel after training, so when he knows Suna’s going to be busy until the late afternoon, he always makes sure to cook an extra portion.

Rintaro lets the gym bag fall onto the floor, right next to the couch he drops on with a groan. He’s already showered, he simply needs to change clothes and head out once more. When he checks the latest messages, his brows furrow in confusion.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Still at training?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Fuck, sorry, that was probably weird.  

Unfinishedusernam

-> I really didn’t mean to sound like a creep

Suna really, actually smiles at his screen. You’re insecure about complimenting him, which is sweet. He should’ve complimented you first.

crysnoopy

-> Just got home

-> You didn’t sound like a creep, I like your hands too :)

His heartbeat picks up in pace when the hand starts scribbling shortly after, indicating that you’re online and were probably waiting for his reply.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Ugh, see? Now you feel like you’re forced to compliment me

crysnoopy

-> No I don’t?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Liar. Here, if you’re sincere, compliment these.

-> [IMG_98279]

A laugh bubbles from his throat when he opens the picture of your feet in a pair of fuzzy fox slippers.

crysnoopy

-> They’re beautiful. I’d kill to have an identical pair

-> So you have nice hands and cool slippers, good to know.

Unfinishedusernam

-> You’re a flirt in your everyday life, aren’t you?

Once again, Suna hesitates. He is, clearly he is. In all likelihood, if he knew you in real life, he would be. You’re nice, intelligent, funny, someone he can easily see himself being interested in. But it’s not what he downloaded the app for, he shouldn’t wander in flirty territory, he really shouldn’t.

crysnoopy

-> Only if they own a pretty set of slippers

When has he ever been good at following judicious advice?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Knew it. Flirt.

-> Can I ask you something?

crysnoopy

-> Ask away

Unfinishedusernam

-> Why are you on this app?

He sighs. Flirty territory is easier than honesty territory. A quick glance at the clock on his kitchen wall instills a sense of urgency as he types a reply, as raw and sincere as it gets.

crysnoopy

-> I wanted to find out if I could open up to strangers more than I do with people I actually know

He really fucking hopes Osamu is proud. Let it be known that he’s trying.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Do you think you could open up to me?

Suna exhales from his nose. This is definitely not the type of conversation he wanted to have while on a rush.

crysnoopy

-> Maybe

-> I’d like that.

He waits for a few seconds, chat gone silent. Maybe you logged off, maybe you don’t know how to reply, either way Suna feels a weight lifting from his chest. It’s true, he thinks he might have a deeper conversation with you of all people. A faceless someone who sends him pictures of stray cats and nice sunsets, who makes him smile at silly jokes. He shortly wonders if you’d like to open up to him in the same way, if being vulnerable will ever be on the table. For now, he’s okay with simply letting you know.

Osaka ends up being extra motivating.

The EJP Raijin players have been training hard, religiously respecting their schedules: there’s no time for slacking off, days punctuated by a disciplined sleep routine, physical and tactical training, cool-down exercises, refuelling afternoons and evenings spent cross-training. The synergy within the team is off the charts, they have won every single practice match played so far and the excitement is palpable as the game with the Black Jackals approaches.

Their training sessions are usually shorter. Atsumu insists it’s because they’re in better shape, Suna’s almost punched him in the face over dinner.

When he’s not too exhausted, against all odds, he enjoys spending some time with old friends and acquaintances. He knows it’s going to be a difficult game, Sakusa is a pain in the ass to block and Inunaki, their libero, is very talented. But he thinks he’s ready.

As they stroll through the city when their free days or breaks coincide, Suna is sometimes hit with pangs of a sentiment not entirely foreign. Nostalgia, regret? He can never tell for certain. He misses having his friends around, being in the same place at all times, travelling less. As he thinks of Osamu currently being the only occupant of his large, painfully empty apartment, while he shares a portion of takoyaki with an ever annoyingly loud Atsumu, when he listens to Bokuto enthusiastically detail his relationship with Keiji, he thinks he’s missing out on too many things and he’s past feeling unperturbed about it.

“Shoyo says he’s very happy in Brazil, asked us to visit soon. Ya should come”, Atsumu lightly bumps Suna’s shoulder with his as they walk by the river, in search of a good viewing spot. The colorful procession carrying portable shrines is quickly filling up the boats to be paraded up and down the Okawa river. While it’s still early for fireworks, oh and bunraku performances are about to begin on different stage boats, and the air is filled with fragrances coming from the endless rows of festival food stalls. What an unexpected fortune, to be in town for the Tenjin Matsuri.

“Not gonna crash on your friend’s couch”, Suna’s peremptory tone makes Atsumu roll his eyes.

“Why are you being so pissy today? What’s up, scared you’re gonna lose?”.

Rintaro searches for something in his friend’s annoyingly familiar, limpid gaze as Bokuto snickers next to him. He finds his own affection, honed by years of joint quarrels, reflected in it.

“Rin?”, Atsumu’s worried now, head slightly tilted to the side. Suna offers a tiny smile.

“Do you ever miss Hyogo?”.

“No”, the answer comes quick, “I miss my family, I miss my friends. Yer ugly face especially. Places are just places”, he shrugs and Suna feels his shoulders relax.

“We’re lucky, we still get to catch up”, Bokuto smiles, “it’s okay to feel sad sometimes though”.

“I’m not sad”, Suna grimaces, “t’was just a question. Shut up”.

“Aw, don’t be shy! Keiji always says owning how we really feel is important”, Bokuto offers him one of his dangos and he begrudgingly takes it.

“I feel like… you should shut up”, he gruffs out. Atsumu snickers at that and Bokuto pouts. Suna doesn’t pay attention to any of them, too preoccupied with taking a decent picture of the boats. He wonders if he’ll be able to make the fireworks look as pretty as they’re in real life, to show them to you.

He doesn’t care that you’ll know where he is, it isn’t but a small part of himself he wishes to unravel for you. It’s what you two have been doing, no? Occasionally sending each other messages that go beyond jokes and memes. You now know he has twins as friends, just how much he loves his little sister, his favorite dish. Suna knows you live close to your family and visit them as often as possible, that you always bring a can of tuna in your bag should you come across stray cats on the way to work. He knows you’re scared of the dark and can’t look at blood without feeling dizzy. You’re trusting, extremely indecisive, a fierce procrastinator, you spend too much time on tiktok and are scared to death you’re not going to be able to keep those who are important to you in your life, forever. Suna gets it, really.

He hasn’t been able to say much, you opened up to him as if it was nothing and he still can’t bring himself to share much more than comforting words and feeble details. Who cares if he likes yakisoba? He hates how detached he feels from everyone else. He feels lonely. He wishes he still lived in the same town as his friends. Sometimes he goes to sleep with the tv left on, to simulate someone else’s presence in a cold, empty apartment. He misses his family, like, all the time. The thought of getting on a plane paralizes him. He doesn’t think he’s good enough at volleyball, his team may lose and it would be his fault. He doesn’t think he’s good enough.

“Taking cute pics for your mystery girl?”, Atsumu grins widely. Suna keeps a composed facade, calmly snaps a few additional shots, but internally he’s screaming. It’s his fault for expecting a twin to keep a secret, really.

“How d’you know they’re not for my instagram?”.

“You haven’t updated your feed in a year”, Bokuto points at his phone screen, sunarin profile open to prove a point. Rintaro almost snatches it from his hand to throw it into the river below.

“She’s not my girl”, he grumbles instead, “just a random person I talk to. It was Osamu’s idea”.

“It was a good idea. I’ve been trying to get Kiyoomi on that app too, you’re both so closed off”.

On any other occasion, Suna would’ve denied that and retorted with an abrasive remark. Not this time, though.

“Yeah. Trying to improve there”, he huffs, to which Atsumu’s ready-to-take-the-piss expression softens.

“Right. So how is she? Can’t remember the last time you texted with a stranger for more than a week before they were either ghosted or became your girlfriend”.

“She’s okay. I don’t know much”.

“Everyone on Matchpal is anonymous”, Kotaro fills in Atsumu’s knowledge gaps.

“She has to be more than okay if you’ve been talking for over a month”, the older Miya insists, prodding mercilessly at Suna’s discretion.

“She’s funny”, he finally concedes, “and smart. Makes opening up to a stranger look too easy”.

“Smart? Okay, ya definitely wouldn’t be her type then”, part of the tightness in Suna’s chest dissipates as his fist collides with Atsumu’s arm.

“I think that’s the point, though. You don’t know each other and will never meet, so you can admit things you wouldn’t normally mention. Be vulnerable”, Bokuto finishes his dangos and crumples up the small disposable cardboard box they came with.

“Yes but at this point she doesn’t really feel like a stranger anymore”, Suna pauses after saying that out loud, surprised by his own words. When has he stopped considering you a faceless someone on a random app, exactly? He realizes he’s given you a voice in his head. A smile he imagines reacting to his lame jokes, when he deflects tentative personal questions. He’s given you a routine, shared most of his. You don’t feel like a stranger anymore but you’re not exactly a friend. What are you, then?

“Uh-oh”, it takes a moment to realize that the teasing sound comes from Bokuto. Crap.

“And we could meet”, Suna pushes, “Shizuoka is not that big”.

“She’s from Shizuoka? Christ”, Atsumu lets out a low whistle, “does she know you live in the same city?”.

“She never asked”, if the justification sounds odd, his friends are kind enough not to point it out. He doubts Osamu would be as lenient. Truth is, he didn’t ask either: after some time, you had just randomly disclosed the information, probably because you perceived him as a very discrete person. Which, for the record, he is.

“I’m going to ask you this question just once. Do ya like this girl?”.

“No”, obviously not, “I don’t even know her”.

“Oh? But you just said she doesn’t feel like a stranger?”, Bokuto’s eyebrows shoot up.

Suna sighs. His limbs feel heavy but it’s a different feeling than the one he gets after practice, more draining.

“He’ll figure it out”, the weight of Atsumu’s hand on his shoulder feels weirdly comforting.

I don’t know what she feels like, Suna wants to say. He settles for saying nothing, as the hold on his shoulder grows tighter for a split second.

Coach is going to have an earful ready for Motoya if he doesn’t show up on time at practice, in the morning. He’s still out celebrating-drinking with other teammates, their first Tenjin Matsuri an excuse good enough to be late. Suna doesn’t mind having the hotel room to himself for the evening, a welcome novelty: he just hopes he won’t have to drag his friend out of bed the following day.

His hair is still wet, the bed way too comfortable to consider getting dressed. You, a distraction that fills his stomach with fuzzy warmth, something that for a second makes him forget why his phone has been exploding with notifications.

It’s that stupid instagram post he decided to share after a year of semi hiatus, online presence proven only by the occasional story he’d upload. Suna feels particularly caught in his feelings today, so why not post the selfie Atsumu took by the river? His comment is pinned at the top of the section, with over 8k likes.

miyatsumu brothers ❤️

Bokuto left a heart too, Samu and Kita some of their usual simple but genuine comments. Love you guys. Miss you :). It’s easy for them, a skill he wants to master as well. It’s not enough for the people in his life to simply know that he loves them, Suna wants tell them more.

He takes a look at other comments, smiling faces with heart-eyes emojis and inappropriate compliments from strangers that make him laugh. He shortly wonders what your instagram looks like. Filled with pictures of you with your friends and family, no doubt. A feed that showcases your favorite food and places, creative outfits, witty captions and sometimes no captions at all. It’d fit you.

His phone pings again.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Osaka!!!!

-> Fuck I’m so jealous, I never got to see the festival :( did you have fun?

crysnoopy

-> I did. Some old friends are in town too, we’re playing against each other soon

Unfinishedusernam

-> Your friends are also athletes???

-> Now I feel bad, this is literally how I’m spending the evening

-> [IMG_62371]

Suna smiles upon opening the picture. You’re sitting on your couch and the hand not holding the phone is doing a V sign, a lidded tray balanced on your legs, tv channel set on a show he’s never been interested in. The lights are dim, the room doesn’t seem too big but it feels so cozy. The way a home should feel. He sees a coffee table and some lit candles by the tv unit.

crysnoopy

-> Looks like a perfect evening to me

Unfinishedusernam

-> I only walked 200 steps today.

crysnoopy

-> I’m like trying really hard to find something nice to say

-> Every morning is an opportunity to create a masterpiece called life?

-> Stop surviving, start thriving?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Fuck you for making me laugh, I almost dropped my dinner

He laughs as well, out loud, then double taps your message to like it so that you know he’s still acknowledging it, despite something more urgent suddenly prompting the quick movement of his fingers.

crysnoopy

-> Hey, remember when we talked about how you’re really scared of losing the people you love?

Suna can almost sense your surprise, it’s evident in the way the little scribbling hand appears and disappears repeatedly as you probably try to think of something appropriate to say.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Yeah?

crysnoopy

-> I feel that too

-> Most days I wake up thinking I’m a bad person

Another pause. This must be the most exposed he’s ever felt and Suna is grateful your replies are not as fast as they usually are because his hands are suddenly cold, palms clammy and disgusting.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Why do you think that?

crysnoopy

-> I don’t do enough to show how I feel and one day that could make them leave

-> Maybe stability isn’t for me and that scares me

-> I get bored easily, I don't want to commit. What if what’s regular, easy for everyone else will never be my thing?

Well, that’s a whole lot of fucking baggage he just dropped on you. His first instinct is to apologize, to ask you to just forget it, deflect with some joke about having had too much to drink and being in his feels. But he doesn’t do that. Why? What makes him want to trust you with all that? Perhaps it’s just curiosity, wanting to find out what a complete stranger would think of the thoughts that eat him alive at night. Maybe he’s hoping for some miraculous solution offered on a silver plate. Or he just wants to check if he’s able to even do the whole being vulnerable thing in the first place.

Your response comes after a couple minutes and Suna doesn’t remember the last time he felt so nervous.

Unfinishedusernam

-> How did you meet your current friends?

He furrows his brows.

crysnoopy

-> Most of them I met in school

Unfinishedusernam

-> So they made the conscious decision of being your friends every single day, all this time

-> Btw getting bored easily is okay. A bad person wouldn’t be asking those questions about himself :)

-> You can always work on what you want to improve

crysnoopy

-> You make it sound too easy

Unfinishedusernam

-> Sometimes it really is tho

-> You’re not too late, you know. Tell your friends that you love them, tell your family that you miss them

Unfinishedusernam

-> It doesn’t have to be easy right away

-> You get to make your own regular. Create your new normal

Suna exhales, reads your messages over and over again. It’s oddly comforting realizing that he is, in fact, not too late yet. Why does he always think that he is?

His phone pings again.

Unfinishedusernam

-> I think you’ll find a person you’ll want to commit to

-> That’s what I tell myself after all my failed dates anyway lol

-> Remember, be the change that you wish to see on tinder

Suna snorts, heart lighter in the hotel room he sits alone in. He could get drunk on the relief suddenly filling his chest, it feels like the touch of a cool hand over a feverish forehead.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Still there?

crysnoopy

-> I’m here

How could he not be?

crysnoopy

-> Thank you

Unfinishedusernam

-> How’s opening up to a stranger feel? :)

Good, if the stranger is you. Apparently.

crysnoopy

-> Mysteriously comforting

-> How are you failing those dates? Do I have to beat anyone up?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Nah

-> It just seems the guys I’m into are never into me

crysnoopy

-> That sucks for them

It really, truly, actually does. He doesn’t remember the last time he felt as comfortable sharing something so personal over text, it’s all so natural Suna is convinced he’d be able to do that in person as well. How would it feel to meet you? Would the magic wear out, is this so easy only because an anonymous profile on a silly app?

Sure, Suna doesn’t know your name or what you look like, but that doesn’t make you a stranger. He knows you enough for the words to almost spill out of his hands, words that press threateningly against the pads of his fingers.

He’d be into you. He’d date you. That’s what he wants to say: there’s no need to know how you look or the name printed on some documents, he knows enough. It’s a weird feeling that scares him and clouds his mind for a brief moment, as he waits for your reply.

Unfinishedusernam

-> That’s sweet of you to say!

-> Last time I went out with a guy I really liked it was a disaster

-> He also lived pretty close to me, thank god he moved now

crysnoopy

-> Well, joke’s on him. He’s missing out big time

Unfinishedusernam

-> Stop being cute, I’ll fall for you

Suna takes a sharp breath. Reading the words does something funny to his stomach, something Atsumu would tease him for.

Shit, Atsumu. The game is so close. When’s the last time volleyball disappeared from his brain like that, with the snap of invisible fingers? Can he afford being this distracted?

Unfinishedusernam

-> This dinner fucking slaps btw

-> They opened a new place in my city, add that to the list of spots you have to visit if you swing by shizuoka

-> It’s called onigiri miya

Suna chokes on his own spit so badly he thinks he’s gonna die as he abruptly sits up, coughing fit that brings tears to his eyes. He stares at his screen in disbelief, sudden reminder of how tangible and close you actually are burning like a slap in the face.

Samu picks up after a few rings, it’s late enough for him to be either still in the shop or getting out of the shower.

“Hey, what’s up? Saw your pic with that scrub—”

“Did a girl come to the shop today?”, the question is uttered with so much urgency the line goes silent for a few seconds.

“My day was great, thanks for asking! I’m okay, eating dinner on your couch right now”, the fake singsong tone makes him roll his eyes.

“I’m sorry, this is an emergency. She just told me she was at your shop today”.

“Really? Did she like it?”.

“Osamu”.

He chuckles lightly.

“Okay. First, please tell me why we care so much that she came to the shop today?”.

Suna loves his friend, he really does. Sometimes he wishes he was close enough to be punched in the face. “Stop being a dick”.

“Fine. A girl did come to the shop today”, Suna’s heart almost stops, “… along with a million others”, he deflates against the pillow once again, defeated. He knows it’s something he really shouldn’t do but he still sends the picture to Osamu, slightly cropped to leave out everything that’s not useful to the investigation. The two things his friend gets to see are your dinner and a V sign.

There’s a pause, one Rintaro swears is filled by the loud pounding of his restless heart.

“I know who she is”, Osamu speaks quietly, in a tone that leaves no room for sarcasm.

“What?”, Suna’s voice comes out thin, incredulous.

“I remember her. Came in as I was about to close the shop, bowed and begged for whatever leftovers I might’ve had. She looked like she had a horrible day, so I just…”.

“Put something together for her”, as you always do.

“Yeah! I usually don’t use those trays but I didn’t have any of the regular ones left”.

“Well, how is she?”, Suna cringes at the impatience vibrating in his voice, it makes him sound desperate. Osamu hums, it’s a voluntarily prolonged sound that makes him scoff.

“She’s really sweet. Apologized a million times, left a generous tip. I think you’d like her”.

“Yeah?”.

“Yeah, Rin”, he’s smiling, “I also think you should tell her”.

“Tell her what?”.

“That you want to meet her, dumbass”.

Suna runs a hand through his now dried hair, lightly ruffles it. This feels dangerously real now, something he could grasp if he so much as decided to hold out a hand. You’re so close. There’s something else simmering underneath the fear and Rintaro recognizes it easily. It’s an almost forgotten eagerness that he’s not entirely stranger to.

“Samu”.

“Hmm?”, he’s smiling again. The asshole.

“I think I like her”.

“No shit”, Osamu full on laughs now, jovial and relieved. Despite the annoyance, Suna feels the exact same way.

Shizuoka seemed different upon his return, an endless pool of possibilities where something would inevitably remind Suna of you. He’d made peace with the fact that he had a crush on someone he’s never met and with that truth also came an endless list of associations his brain couldn’t help but make.

Texting you first, whenever he wanted, became natural. What’s more, it was almost as if you were encouraged by his newly loosened state, that one evening in Osaka opening the floodgates of something else, something different. You trusted him with your most intimate thoughts and so did he. There was no more wondering if you were bothering each other or texting at an unconvenient time. You’d once told him you felt self-conscious about that specifically.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Sometimes I feel like I’m too much

-> Would you tell me if I was too much?

crysnoopy

-> What do you mean?

Unfinishedusernam

-> You know, if I was pestering you

crysnoopy

-> You’re not too much

-> And even if you were, I could handle you :)

You were the happiest when he had told you they’d won the game in Osaka. Heck, you baked blueberry muffins (“to celebrate!”) and asked him to go get himself one so you could pretend he was there to eat yours. And Suna did: he got up from his bed, grabbed a jacket, put on some running shoes and made his way to his favorite bakery with a dopey smile on his face. He then suggested a toast and, what a coincidence, you happened to have a bottle of white wine left unopened for the longest time. The occasion seemed worthy.

And so you both ate and drank and celebrated until his cheeks felt hot and your texts started lacking proper grammar. Suna remembers how it felt, slumped on his couch, lights low and mind dizzy as his eyes blinked and blinked and then blinked again while the message sat on his screen, black against white. He just stared at it, not entirely able to discern reality from fictitious.

Unfinishedusernam

-> I wish you were here

-> I’d probly just kiss you

Suna remembers staring at his screen as a wild joy exploded in his heart and took over his entire chest, scorching and vibrant like festival fireworks. He stared at it for so long he still doesn’t quite recall if he wrote the reply or if the reply wrote itself, because the only other solid memory in relation to that moment is drifting off with an empty bottle of wine precariously balanced on his lap.

He woke up the next morning with a sour taste in his mouth, a throbbing headache and sore neck. His phone had fallen to the floor and when he picked it up, it was with a heavy heart that he noticed you hadn’t replied.

crysnoopy

-> I want nothing more

-> I’m from shizuoka too. let’s make it happen?

It wasn’t unusual for one of you to leave the other on read and it wasn’t like Suna to hyperfixate on not receiving a reply but this time, for some reason, it felt different.

As he got up with a groan and shuffled to his bathroom to take a shower, a strange feeling of dread strangled his body from the inside, his mind running a million miles a minute. Were you disgusted? Mad, that he had kept his location a secret? That would’ve been unfair, though, and you had always proved to respect his boundaries. Maybe it was all a joke, then. You thought of all that flirting as nothing short of a game, something stupid to pass the time with a stranger online. Something that wasn’t real. Worse, something you’d never want to be real, especially if given the chance to make that happen. Fuck.

Suna succeeded in keeping himself fairly busy for a few hours that day: he cleaned his whole apartment, did some meal prep, called his mom, called his sister, even called Atsumu. Your silence kept throbbing at the edges of each minute, it became so unbearable he ended up sending you a picture of an aspirin package with a funny caption, to test the waters.

You never replied. Not that day, not the following day, a week later your chat is still painfully empty. Or rather, filled with all the messages he’s sent before giving up.

crysnoopy

-> Killer headache town, population: me

crysnoopy

-> How are you feeling?

crysnoopy

-> Hey, everything ok?

crysnoopy

-> I’m so sorry if I made you uncomfortable.

-> I was really tipsy, I didn’t mean it

crysnoopy

-> Or at least I didn’t mean to sound so pushy.

-> I’d never pressure you into doing anything, let alone meet me

crysnoopy

-> I’ll give you space if you need it, can you just please tell me that you’re okay? It’s been three days

crysnoopy

-> Okay. I’ll be here if you ever come back.

He’s so mad at you. Weren’t you the first one coming forward with all that stuff about wanting to kiss him? Why would you disappear? He’s apologized, what else can he do? Was it all seriously worth so little to you?

Suna feels as if the days are longer now, training unbearable. Instead of keeping his mind occupied, all it does is remind him of how badly his blocks suck lately. He doesn’t pick up when Osamu calls, he’d read everything there’s to read in his seemingly inexpressive tone. He’s mad at himself, for not noticing how stupidly attached he’d become. Is it normal to miss you so badly? He doesn’t remember the last time he missed someone just as much. The world is cruel in relentlessly reminding him of you: an advert you’d find funny, that movie you’d recently discussed making a comeback in cinemas, sunsets painting the sky in orange and lilacs so similar to the ones you’d send him, a pair of fuzzy fox slippers on display in a shop window on the way to the gym.

The toxic part of his brain is ruthless in reminding him that this is why he refuses to open up to new people. That this is why he never lets himself be actually vulnerable and simply plays along: it’s because he’d be left with nothing but mockery, humiliation and loneliness.

But Rintaro doesn’t want to give that part of his brain any more solidity. What he wants, is to be proud of himself. Relieved, even. He wants to feel happy for having been brave enough to take a risk, to trust, to open up. He wants to relish in the joy that the brief encounter with you, anonymous and all, gave him. So what if you never come back or talk to him again? That’s on you. He’ll miss you for a good while, will probably always wonder what you’re up to from time to time, but he’ll be okay. You gave him much more than what you’re probably aware of and truth is, he’s grateful. He just hopes you’ll always be okay too, he hopes life will treat you well. He hopes you don’t regret trusting him with your most intimate thoughts, ever.

It’s not like he doesn’t reread some of your messages, to keep himself company. The most recent ones still have the not entirely pleasant effect of twisting his insides. He’ll have to delete that folder of screenshots eventually.

Unfinishedusernam

-> I’m so glad I stumbled over you on this stupid app btw

Unfinishedusernam

-> You’re sweet, snoopy :)

Unfinishedusernam

-> Today was shit

-> Sometimes I think about how it’d be to have you here, at the end of shitty days

Unfinishedusernam

-> Stop flirting with me, it’s working

Unfinishedusernam

-> I feel so slilly

-> can you evne like someone you nevee met?

Turns out, you really can. He just never fully got around to telling you properly.

And then, one day, Suna’s blocks don’t suck anymore. In fact, they’re just as good as they’ve always been. He speaks with Osamu on the phone, a little bummed that his friend doesn’t have another trip to Shizuoka planned anytime soon: the shop is doing great, his presence is no longer required as often.

“I’ll miss you”, Rintaro still remembers the stunned silence following his words, “come back soon, shop or not”.

The younger Miya twin paused his ministrations, hands sticky with rice, and offered a surprised chuckle, “I’ll be back. Ya can also take a train every now and then, ya know?”.

“Maybe I will. Hey, next time you plan a trip to Osaka, can I come too?”.

“Hell yeah. I wouldn’t have to endure that dickhead alone”.

He talks to Kita and Aran way more these days: when he thinks of one of his friends, he simply grabs the phone and reaches out with a text, a meme or a funny reel. It seems to make them happy.

When his mom tells him that Kaori has been relentlessly asking about visiting her older brother, Suna assures her that he isn’t too busy to accomodate her for a week or for however long she wants to stay. Even if he was, he’d make it work. His mom clicks her tongue, gives her approval for a weekend only, less her daughter falls behind her homework even more. He grins when he hears Kaori scream MAKE IT TWO WEEKENDS in the distance.

Suna hasn’t seen his little sister in months and despite their relationship being exhaustingly conflictual (they are way too similar to each other and she gets a kick out of pissing him off), he loves her deeply and she trusts him just as much. Sometimes being home without him can become a lot and it’s not like she ever directly admits it but he’s pretty sure Kaori misses him, the little gremlin.

He was already 14 when she was born and little Rintaro had faced the news of a new addition to the family (a female, no less!) with infinite crankiness. He huffed and puffed and complained about having to share a room and a bathroom throughout his mom’s entire pregnancy, then a pink little bundle of dark hair and eardrum demolishing shrieks held his pointer finger in her tiny fist for the first time and he swore to guard her with his life, forever.

Suna wakes up extra early to clean the bathroom and his room, which he’s going to give to his sister, and make it girl-appropriate. He always goes on a tiny shopping spree before she visits: kitchen cabinets are now filled with her favorite snacks, there’s a colorful set of strawberry handcream, lotion and lip balm on his nightstand, a sweatsuit set neatly folded on his bed, the expensive vanilla body scrub their mom wouldn’t get her sits pretty in the shower.

He texts her before heading out for practice, demands she keeps him updated about her position. Kaori send a thumbs up and the picture of the blurred view outside the train window.

Unfortunately, as it often happens, coach announces the team is required to stay longer than he had anticipated and Suna doesn’t dare explain that he’s actually in a terrible rush because Motoya has been playing like shit and, of course, that becomes everyone’s problem.

“Get it together, man”, he hisses, way less patient than usual. Komori pouts.

“I’m trying”.

“Try harder!”, Washio snickers from the other side of the court.

It’s not until an hour later that Suna can dash through the gym doors, already forty minutes late to the appointment his sister had agreed on in the morning. When he notified her about the extra training, she didn’t falter.

-> No worries, I’ll find the house.

The train station isn’t at all far from his apartment, a mere 15-minute walk, but Kaori hasn’t visited in a few months and she’s not exactly known for her acute sense of direction. She’d get lost in her own house if it wasn’t impossible to achieve that in a small two bedroom apartment.

“Why is your damn phone going to voicemail?”, Suna grumbles to himself in the middle of the street, torn between running to the station or straight home. It’s not dark yet but the sun has set and Kaori knows very well the one thing she’s never allowed to do is turn her phone off, especially if him or their mom are not aware of where she is.

Right as he decides to head to the train station first, he hears her voice. There’s someone taller with her, which makes the hairs behind his neck stand up right away.

“Kaori!”, he damn nearly trips over his own feet as he rushes towards his sister in the opposite direction, gym bag almost falling off his shoulder while she chats with god knows who without a care in the world.

“Rin”, she stops right in her tracks, “sorry, kinda got los—”

“Why the hell is your phone turned off?”, as if to underline his point, he impatiently taps on his phone screen a few times, another call interrupted by immediately going straight to voicemail. He only now realizes how breathless he sounds.

“Battery died, I forgot my charger at home”, Kaori juts her bottom lip out. She’s the spitting image of her brother. “I was lucky to meet your friend right outside the station”, she looks up and so does he, features morphing into a horrified expression. Out of all people.

“You… what?”, Suna doesn’t know what to say. Was his neighbor even capable of smiling like that?

“It was nothing! We had fun, didn’t we?”.

Kaori nods. “We fed some stray cats on the way here. It’s so weird that you had canned fish in your bag, though”.

“I always carry some! Didn’t you see how hungry Mochi was?���.

For the following seconds, Suna is incapable of uttering another word. It becomes weird enough for his neighbor to wave a hand in front of his face, brows furrowed.

“Suna?”.

“Yeah”, he replies on autopilot, “Yes. I mean, thank you. Kaori, let’s go”, he eyes his sister’s large, pink, glittery backpack. Hanging from his neighbor’s shoulder.

“Uh, actually”, his sister coughs.

“What now?”.

“I kinda need to use the bathroom”.

“You can use it at home? It’s a ten minute walk from here, let’s get going”.

“I kinda need to use it now”.

“Kaori”, he sighs, “it’s ten minutes”.

“I live right here”, the woman from his nightmares indicates the house behind her, “wanna make a pit stop?”.

“Absolutely not”, Suna clears his throat, “she can hold it”.

“She can’t”, Kaori shrinks in herself a little, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

“Fine, I guess we are making a pit stop”, he mutters and his sister exhales in relief, grabs his neighbor by the sleeve and urges her to open the door, quick quick quick please.

Suna watches his sister dash upstairs with a snort as he takes her backpack. It’s heavy as a rock. The hell did she put in there?

“You’re not gonna catch fire if you come in, you know”, his neighbor fixes him with a sarcastic glare as she takes off her shoes, letting her own bag fall to the floor.

“Sorry for the trouble”, he steps in at last, with a low grumble that allows a chuckle to surprise him.

“Don’t be too hard on her. She was panicking, I offered my phone but she didn’t remember your number. I asked where she was supposed to go and when she mentioned the neighborhood, I inquired about her brother’s name. Pretty lucky, huh?”, she’s not looking at him, busy taking off her jacket as well. Suna’s gaze softens.

“Yeah, really lucky. Thank you for taking care of her”.

“I also have a younger brother, I know what it feels like”, she smiles, looking at him at last, “one time we went to a festival without our parents, he thought it’d be funny to play hide and seek without telling me. I think I aged ten years that night”.

“She also used to run away so much as a kid. It’s in our blood, I was the exact same”.

“Doesn’t surprise me for some reason”.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”.

“I’m done, we can go now”, Kaori hops down the stairs, two steps at a time, then glares at her brother. Golden, foxy eyes narrowed. “You’re not being rude, are you?”.

He rolls his eyes but, before he can reply, someone beats him to it.

“He’s never rude to me. We’re friends, remember?”, Suna watches her wink with a smile so warm. Is that really the same person he runs into almost on a daily basis?

Astonished, he witnesses that little, usually quiet, reserved gremlin smile back at his neighbor. Then, remembering how important formalities are in their family, she thanks her with a deep bow. It’s only then that he notices them: fox slippers. Cute, pointed ears, bushy tales and everything.

They both jump when the steel water bottle hits the parquet flooring, Kaori dramatically clutching her chest. “Can you not be a weirdo for five seconds?”.

His neighbor (could it be…???) furrows her brows in genuine confusion. “I think volleyball finally started affecting his brain. Better take him home”.

“Yeah. Let’s go, loser”.

“Shut up, be thankful mom’s not here”, he fires back, fake annoyance to cover the fright that gnome’s actually caused. Suna’s heart is racing for an entirely different reason as he takes another furtive look at those slippers while pushing Kaori out the door, mind racing.

He is completely, absolutely unable to focus. Over dinner, he distractedly listens while his sister paints vivid pictures of boring classes, the art course their mom wants her to give a chance to, the latest fight she had with her best friend. He asks questions and fails to register the answers he gets, over and over again. It’s a relief when Kaori sprints to the bathroom, calling the shots for who gets to shower first. Suna is left rinsing the plates, with a brain that can’t think.

Would it be possible? You’re from Shizuoka. You have those exact slippers. You always feed stray cats. God, the fucking slippers. What are the chances?

He could call Osamu, ask a few questions. Instead, his sister’s voice keeps chipping away at what’s left of his sanity.

Your friend’s cool. I wish my teacher was that nice.

A teacher. Could kids be the wearing but rewarding humans you often mentioned?

He goes back to that disastrous dinner, desperately trying to recall how the conversation felt. What did they even text about prior to that evening? Was that woman as charming as you are? Fuck, he doesn’t remember a single word exchanged that evening. He just remembers being an asshole.

“I’ll be back in ten minutes”, from her comfortable spot on the couch, Kaori watches her brother march to the front door, then bend down to put on the same shoes he wore a few hours before, “lock the door, don’t burn the house down”.

“Where are you going?”, her brows are knit in confusion, never in worry.

“None of your business. Lock the door”.

“Sure, sure, bye”.

“Right now, Kaori”, something in his weirdly brisk tone makes the fourteen year old pause the show she’s watching, not without a dragged groan, and get up from underneath the blanket she had stolen from her brother’s room.

You’re so ready to go to bed early and declare the day officially concluded.

Work was tough, managing a new classroom of overexcited kids had proven to be particularly difficult. Between the increasing pressure from school administrators and the daunting task of creating engaging lesson plans for the new semester, you felt a heavy weariness threatening to swallow you whole.

As you brush your teeth, tired reflection staring back at you, he worms his way back into your thoughts once more. Saying that hearing his name and then seeing him again was unexpected would be an understatement: you were absolutely convinved (and thankful) he had moved. Where the hell did he disappear for over a month? Just to come back and show up like the annoying, irritating nuisance he is. One you can’t seem to whisk away.

Your date was one of the most disappointing nights of your life. Suna, the guy you had talked with for days, the same Suna who was so witty, intelligent and nice, was also just so blatantly uninterested. Bored. He didn’t even make the effort to ask about your day, eyes distant whenever you tried to initiate a conversation. And of course, because life hates you, you have to be reminded of that night every single day because you now see him every single day.

What’s more, you had failed the one person you’ve been able to feel interested in after that big, fat disappointment. Someone who just found himself trapped in the crossfire of your thoughts and stupid, stupid fears. Someone you were selfishly not ready to have so close. Someone wonderful who didn’t deserve your self-serving worries.

You’re already in your pjs when the doorbell rings multiple times, so insistent you almost trip down the stairs as you hurry, terrified that you’re gonna have to face an emergency with pandas printed on your pants.

“What the hell?!”, you instinctively step back as he leans forward, his entire weight resting against the doorframe.

“Sorry, I know it’s late”, Suna takes a deep breath but it’s not really needed. Prior warmup or not, he isn’t at all affected by the sprint through which he covered the distance between his house and yours. “I just had to… hey, can I come in? I’m probably gonna have a heart attack if I don’t sit down”.

You’re staring at him wide-eyed, completely startled.

“Yeah? Sure, come in! Is your sister okay? Did something happen?”, you’re quick to push the door closed as he heavily flops on your couch.

“No, no…”, Suna seems distracted for a moment, eyes scanning the room and zeroing on your tv, which is currently turned off. He stares at it for a while, then lets out a small laugh. “Actually, maybe it’s better if I stand up”.

“Suna, are you on drugs right now?”, the question is serious but his eyes, now fixed on you, don’t reveal any particular emotion besides genuine… amusement?

“I need to tell you something”.

The odd idea that he might be hiding a knife somewhere underneath that leather jacket crosses your mind for a split second.

“Sure…?”.

“When my sister was a baby, she’d cry a lot. I legit thought my ears would explode at some point”, he weighs the words carefully as he approaches you and, for some odd reason, you don’t take a step back. “She’d cry so much, all the time. And then, one day, I brought home a snoopy plush I won at the arcade. It became the one thing that would always shut her up”.

It feels like someone’s toppled a bucket of ice cold water over your head. Suna is standing so close while looking at you in a way you’ve never witnessed, a way so uncommon for him. You can’t focus on the desperation in his eyes and you’d never guess the hopefulness simmering behind a gaze that seems to be discovering you for the first time.

“It’s you”, barely a whisper, but it’s all the confirmation he needs. The relief in Suna’s exhale is intense as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in. Thank god he does, because your knees feel so wobbly.

It’s a weird sensation, being pressed against him, hanging onto his shoulders for support. He’s warm and smells so good, of bergamot and musk. Your brain can’t quite comprehend that he’s the person you’ve been talking to for the past months.

“I missed you. I’m sorry”, he confesses in the curve of your neck and the words dissolve underneath the thin fabric of your pjs, slowly sink into your skin and bones. “I’m so sorry”, he says again, carefully pulls back to look at you, eyes searching for any sign of discomfort. Mirth flashes across his features for a moment. “Hey, are you about to throw up?”.

“No, of course not!”, you take a tentative step back but he doesn’t trust your stability and keeps a gentle hold on your arms, “why are you apologizing? I disappeared. I should be the one… I should be…”, Suna’s gaze softens, one hand rising up to touch your face but then freezing mid-air, deciding against the risk of freaking you out even more.

“Please don’t cry”.

“What?”, you retort, “I’m not crying. Ew”, but when you touch your cheek, it’s shocking to find it wet. What the fuck.

“Oh, god. Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me”, a dry chuckle bubbles up from your throat, “listen, there’s no pressure on you. I’m sure this is a real disappointment so, like, we can pretend it never happened and just go on with our lives. I won’t—”

“Are you sure it’s you? The person I’m looking for is pretty clever”, he attempts a smile when you frown, familiar at last. “You think I’d leave my sister alone and race all the way here for a real disappointment?”.

“I think you just wanted to corroborate”.

Suna rolls his eyes, incredulous. “Well, I corroborated. I’m only gonna pretend it never happened if that’s what you want, because it sure as hell isn’t what I want. If you even care about that”.

You angrily wipe your tears, cheeks burning scorching hot with embarrassment. “I didn’t expect you to be so close. I freaked out. I’m freaking out right now because you’re even closer, apparently”.

“Are you disappointed?”.

You look at him, really look at him. His dishevelled hair, naturally narrowed eyes, the bridge of a perfect nose, full lips forced in a severe line. He’s searching for something in your gaze, with fierce determination. How can one person’s eyes be so penetrating? You feel naked, exposed. Vulnerable.

“No”, you reply, sincere, “no, I’m not”. If only you could feel the relief taking over his chest. “But… what now?”.

Suna feels as if he’s seeing you for the first time and, at the same time, it’s like he’s recovering something important, something precious. He’s already trusted you with some of the most important, hidden parts of himself. He hasn’t liked someone that way in such a long time and he’ll be damned if he lets this chance pass by. Again.

He’s not too late. Why does he always think he is?

You curiously watch as Suna takes his phone out and spends a few seconds tapping on it with a smile he can barely hide.

The familiar ping of a notification you haven't heard in weeks makes you stutter.

crysnoopy

-> Now we do this right.

[forusomimiya]

HQ guys B.D.V (big 🍆 vibes)

You sensed his size when you dropped your hand on his thigh in the car on the way home, slowly stroking it down to the prominent bulge beneath his trousers. Your eagerness to reach in and masturbate him mercilessly intensified when your thumb brushed his tip and he shivered from the touch.

You thanked God when he parked the car in the garage and you sat on his lap, discovering after pulling down his waistband, that under those old grey sweatpants there was no other garment covering his erection.

"God, it's exactly as I imagined" heedless of his desires, you hurriedly masturbated him slowly, salivating as you watched leaks appear from time to time as your fist squeezed the tip.

"Just sit down on it" his weak breathing became a torture. "Wanna you to take it whole"

You were going to fuck it. For your life you were gonna fuck that fucking cock. You got accustomed to the pain when you let him pound your weak spot over and over again, so you took advantage of it and used it as you please, turning your guts into chaos, driving you to madness between weeping and wailing, turning you into a drooling, desperate little mess.

"It's amazing to feel ya so deep inside baby" the palm of his hand on your belly helped you feel him every time you bounced, increasing the warm feeling growing in you. "Can't wait for you to take me just as good in your throat".

Iwaizumi, OSAMU, USHIJIMA, ARAN, BOKUTO, mattsun, DAICHI, asahi, LEV, kindaichi, WASHIO, futakuchi, daishou, terushima

[respectthepetty]

YinWar Hidden Gems Sorrows

It took me a bit to get to this because . . .

Backstory

War struggled (struggles?) with depression.

This interaction was filmed in 2021 for Yin's YouTube channel. War was explaining that he was struggling with depression because of the pandemic, lack of work, and, overall, feeling worthless. He was distant and withdrawn, but Yin checked in on him.

Yin commented that he struggled with figuring out what to do because he was worried that he was depending too much on War (like needing him too much and as a working relationship since they are a branded pair), and the way he deals with *feelings* is by throwing himself into work, but he noticed that was stressing War out more.

So even though he noticed War was growing more distant, he didn't want to flat out tell War he needed him in case it caused War even more stress.

And it boiled down to War, without work, didn't feel valuable, in life or his working relationship with Yin, but that caused him to not work at all, and he thought Yin would be better without him.

Yin, realizing how rough the conversation was for War, didn't want to continue to focus on it.

So that's why he said he wouldn't comfort him so they could move on because if he did, War would keep crying.

And that brings me back to the Aran x Tattoo scene.

I believe that all the guys are hiding parts of themselves in Jack and Joker, and if so, I read this scene not as Tattoo not wanting to deal with Aran's emotions, but as Tattoo not wanting to see Aran in pain over something he shouldn't be taking the blame for and clearly wasn't ready to discuss.

Aran is carrying a lot of guilt for not being the son his father wanted and missing his dad, so even though he shouldn't feel guilty,

He does.

And I think that's something Tattoo, a fictional character, and Yin, a real person, didn't want the other person to experience.

Which aligns with what Perth Nakhun just mentioned on his YouTube channel about branded pairs and the pressure of being responsible for another person's career.

So, yeah. That's it. That's the hidden gem sorrow.

Basically, shit's rough, but people shouldn't feel worse for things they can't control.

[sunarots]

how haikyuu boys show their love

words of affirmation. they’re not usually good with their words and often stumble over their sentences. but when it comes to you, all they want to do is scream their love for you off the rooftops. instead, they offer quiet whispers about your beauty and sing to you about how much you mean to them.

tadashi yamaguchi. nishinoya yuu. tendou satori. hinata shoyo. eita semi.

acts of service. growing up, their chores were their least favourite thing ever. but ever since they met you, all they can think of doing is spending their time cleaning the house for you so you can come home after a long day and relax. they take every opportunity to cook dinner for you, make you breakfast in bed every sunday — anything to make your day slightly easier.

azumane asahi. miya osamu. tanaka ryuunosuke. haiba lev. ushijima wakatoshi. kita shinsuke.

gift giving. handing over a small gift bag to you with the watch you’d pointed out in a shop just to see the look on your face when you open up the package. whenever they see something they think you’ll like, whether it be a ring, book or a snack, they don’t think twice about buying it for you. it’s always worth it to them.

kageyama tobio. ojiro aran. oikawa tooru. akaashi keiji. miya atsumu.

quality time. they love being in your presence more than anything. you don’t even have to be sat beside them — as long as you’re in the room, they’ll have a great time anywhere. there’s just something about your aura that can brighten up any room.

daichi sawamura. kuroo tetsurou. tsukishima kei. sugawara koushi. kozume kenma. suna rintarou.

physical touch. the feeling of your skin on theirs as they pull you in for a hug, or the smell of your hair when you fall asleep on their shoulder. they love the way you always make them feel at home just by something as small as holding their hand; an ability to turn the most dangerous places into the safest place for them.

ukai keishin. sakusa kiyoomi. iwaizumi hajime. bokuto koutarou. terushima yuuji.

# bonus !

you cannot convince me that semi wouldn’t put his love for you into songs or something (singer!semi truther sorry not sorry)

[miiyas]

hello atlas i am anonymous anon because anon is shofrt for anonymous and anymous means unknown did you knowi ghat

i am in love with arsumu miya but hea in lvow wirh this giel bamed lyn van you wrie their wedding thank you

CANT TAKE MY EYES OFF OF YOU !!

wedding day with atsumu miya

wc: 517, fluff, fem reader (can be gn but reader has a dress), post-ts, wedding, lovesick atsumu agenda, not proof read

atsumu thinks he’s the luckiest man alive.

he’s aware that almost every man thinks that during his wedding, i mean, who wouldn’t ? to be bounded together by a pretty diamond ring that you’re soon going to show off to all your friends and co-workers, it’s a great ego boost. the greatest, he thinks.

currently, the two of you are standing next to each other, talking to a few group of friends with the champagne that you like, with the jazz playlist the two of you made, and osamus kitchen skills that continues to spread around the large party room.

there’s a soft smile on the blondes face as his loose fingers drum around your waist, taking sneaky glances at you and your pretty white dress whenever he can. he's only barely hearing the conversation you and your friends are having, eyes glazing around the party room and mouthing out words to his twin whenever they make eye contact.

but atsumu is caught a little off guard when you throw your head back and burst out laughing with your maids of honor, the champagne glass in your hands swishing around in the oval glass. your laughter is terribly infectious to him and the blonde feels his smile grow wider, slyly taking the glass from your hands and holding it for you, taking a sip or two himself to conceal his smirk.

from the corner of atsumus eyes, he can see osamu set up the large, towering wedding cake. from the help of aran, suna, kira, a few other guys, the cake is displayed in the middle of the room and as people get a glance at it, the exclamation of awe starting to echo in the room.

he’s been keeping you distracted enough, the blonde thinks. he poked at your side, making you twitch at the ticklish feeling and just before you scold him, he points his head to the cake, basking in your surprises squeal and laughter.

“how the hell did you get this ?” you beam out, rushed steps walking over to the cake with atsumu following behind you.

“he got on his knees ‘n started ta beg for me to make the cake.” osamu comments, putting his sleek dark blue suit back on, dusting off his hands as he nods at you.

“wha ?! hey ! you weren’t ’posed to say anythin’ !!” the blonde bickers back, the cake knife in his hands pointing at his twin. you laugh again, shaking your head and atsumu swears this marked the hundredth time you’ve laughed tonight.

he waits for your smaller hands to hold onto the knife with him and he adjusts the positioning of his hands, placing yours under his warm ones, allowing you to have a firm grip on the knife.

atsumus chest is pressed against your back, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek as you laugh and slice through the wedding cake with him. the matching wedding rings clack against one another ever so quietly, reminding you two of your now shared last name— a testament of your love for one another.

[merakidoll]

ೃ࿐ plug boyfriend things

leaning back into the seat of the sports car he blew out smoke looking down at his phone where you sat on facetime. the phone propped and legs spread, freshly done acrylic spreading your fat brown lips and rubbing your clitoris, soft moans going though his speaker.

“speed up princess” propping the phone against the wheel and his knee, he enjoyed the show with his blunt, dick growing in the loose fitted sweats making a print began to show precum making a small circle against the grey fabric. his tongue swiped over his plump lips crinkles of a water bottle loud as he took a sip, never once moving his eyes. “s-shit baby, she’s s’wet for you” flipping over you pressed your head into the silk pillow, ass in the air and pussy front and center to the screen.

you knew your man was smiling, watching your hands work your pussy, pressing against your holes, showing off the long duck nails that had a single letter- that happened to be his first name’s initials so others knew not to mess with you, along with the engagement ring.

“wet ass pussy, really fuck the shit out of you”

“then come do ittt”

“oh, yea?” smirking he looked out the window nodding at someone and picking up the phone. “keep that pretty pussy wet for me, i’ll be there in a minute

onyankopon, eren, connie, aran,

[osamiiya]

Poolside Confessions - Atsumu x Reader

Summary: Atsumu’s so concerned about your love life and who you like, he doesn’t consider that it might be him.

Warnings: None! Like one (1) ‘damn’

a/n: i’m so tired from my summer job (edit: forgot to add the summary i’m so sleepy)

———

“Stop! You’ll catch a cold!”

Atsumus voice grows louder as you stop, chest heaving with effort.

He had taken you swimming, a normal hang out instance between the two of you.

And, as time, as it usually does, passed and the sun started to set, the two of you abandon racing and splashing each other in favor of sitting at the ledge of the pool, watching the sun set. The atmosphere is perfect for conversation as the two of you swing your feet in the pool, shivering slightly as the summer night winds begin to pick up.

As friends (although you had hoped for more), it was a common occurrence for him to grill you about who you liked, or which of your friends liked each other. It’s in his nature to be curious about people’s love lives. Even if people (Aran) don’t want to tell him, he’ll figure it out eventually.

You’re used to it by now, but after the fluttering feeling when Atsumu landed a good set happened when he smiled, then when spoke, then when he was… him, increased, you had grown to dread it.

It started off like it usually did:

“Do you have a crush right now?”

“I think so.”

That then led to a smile a smidge more mischievous and evil than it had been before.

“Do I know him?”

“Yeah.”

At this point, Atsumu usually hums in acknowledgment and continues onto whatever mundane topic that comes to head. But, this time, he pushed.

“Is he in our class?”

“Do you know people outside of our class?”

He paused in contemplative thought before laughing and listing those that he knew. You thought it ended there.

“Is it Suna?”

“Ew.”

He laughed so hard he started coughing at that one.

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Absolutely not.”

His pleads get you to a point where you swear your eye is twitching and your impulse control plummets.

And you kiss him.

You really grab his face and plant one right onto his unsuspecting lips.

There’s a moment of pause, like the world has stopped turning, or someone clicked “pause” on the remote control of life.

And then you run.

You almost trip over your flip-flops, but you don’t. You do, however, forget your towel and cover-up at the pool, running down the street outside the public pool in nothing but flip flops and a bathing suit.

It takes Atsumu a minute, but with his volleyball athleticism, he’s able to catch up to you, arms holding all of the belongings the two of you left at the pool, bag flailing helplessly behind him.

“Wait!”

His voice echos down the empty streets, and your lungs burn with exertion.

“Stop! You’ll catch a cold!”

His voice is stern enough to make you skid to a halt, panting slightly as you take breaths of air.

It takes a couple seconds, but soon Atsumu is caught up, breathless, but he recovers quickly.

“Stupid.” He chastises as you shiver, the wind and night air settling into your skin.

He wraps a dry towel around you like a cape, holding it tight around you until you get the message and hold it yourself.

It’s quiet as he rearranges the things he brought to the pool into his bag, and you take the time to study his expressions and look away. The result is an awkward back and forth between your own feet and Atsumu’s face.

It’s like hours has gone by when it’s only been seconds before Atsumu stands and looks you in the eye.

“Why did you run?”

Your answer is nothing but a mumble, and your eyes decide that the ant crawling on the sidewalk is a better place to look than Atsumu.

He leans in, ducking so that his face fills your vision, and he stays there for a moment, simply looking. Atsumu studies your face, looking from your eyes to your nose, taking in its slope, to your lips. It’s as if they’re the most interesting thing to him as he studies them intensely, as if deciding what he would name the color of your lips.

“What are you doing?” Your voice is a whisper, and your breath fans across his lips.

His eyes snap to yours at your words, and a hand comes up to cup your cheek. Atsumu’s palm is warm and slightly calloused. And, it shakes slightly as his thumb brushes your cheekbone with the most care he’s ever used with his hands.

“Thinking of doing something stupid.”

Atsumu’s eyes then drop to your lips, as if he’s already gotten addicted to simply the proximity to them.

His hand shifts so his thumb can brush over your bottom lip gently. It’s slow, and you’re sure he can feel every crack, ridge, and texture your lips hold.

He leans in slightly, hand shifting to hold your jaw as his lips hover over yours.

His voice comes out in a hoarse whisper, as if he’s Atlas, and your face is his world.

“You’re so damn beautiful.” He chokes out before his eyes fully shut and he presses chapped lips to yours.

It’s a small thing, but softer and gentler than the kiss you had given him, what seems like almost decades ago.

He pulls away, but his eyes stay half lidded and trained on your lips. His hand doesn’t dare to move.

“The sun set.”

You risk a glance to the side, past Atsumu’s head, and sure enough, inky black sky and bright stars greet you.

The nod you give him has Atsumu leaning in again, capturing your lips in his. It’s warm in his grasp, and his other hand comes up to rest on your waist.

When you pull away, Atsumu chases the feeling of your lips slightly before opening his eyes.

“Please tell me that I’m the one you like.”

“That much should’ve been obvious right now.” You snort, leaning into his touch.

His smile sends butterflies into your stomach, and he licks his bottom lip slightly before cocking his head slightly to the left.

“Let’s get you home.”

[liillyliilly]

Run Club

suna rintarou x reader words; 4679 synopsis; she's the best runner at inarizaki, he wants to spend more time with her- so the natural conclusion? offering to make a run club with her

It was practically 1,000 degrees outside and Suna was melting in the heat. The rest of the volleyball team was excited to finally be outside for once, the gym was beginning to grow old. Kita, in his ever intelligent wisdom, decided he wanted to do some more intensive cross training. Suna was covering his eyes with his hand, not even hooded eyes could deflect a boiling sun.

And there she was.

“Kita, who is that?” Atsumu got to the jump before Suna did, but Suna listened just a little more carefully to Kita’s words in response to Atsumu’s words.

“That’s L/N. She’s in my class. She’s the track captain, she’s also the one who’s going to help us with cross training today.”

In front of a group of other runners, including guys, was her. She was wearing a black sports bra and quite possibly the shortest shorts Suna had ever seen on a girl. She seemed to be leagues ahead of the other runners, yet she still was yelling at the kids to keep running. Keep pushing forward without thinking about the pain.

Suna thought she was crazy. Beautiful and crazy.

Eventually, she came up to the volleyball team, leaving her team of runners lying on the track practically crying and downing entire water bottles. She messed around on what appeared to be a fitness watch, frowned a little but then tapped around before finally walking over to Kita. Suna was thinking that she was going to kill the volleyball team with the same workout she must have just done with the track team.

Kita gave her a high five, an actual high five, and she mimicked a volleyball spike, laughing at Kita’s eye roll.

“Okay listen up, I’m going to put y’all through some actual training. Not any of this jumping around and diving bullcrap, but actual intensive running to build stamina and power.”

They ran. And then they ran again. They drank a little water, and then they ran again. Eventually even the Miya twins and Aran were sitting down on a grass patch picking strands out of the field and sweating so much that they could’ve produced enough liquid for a hydroelectric dam.

She was just stretching, preparing for one more lap. Kita thanked her for the help, and told the team to head back to the gym so they could go over a few plays. All the boys were leaning on each other and dragging their feet as they meandered back to their hideout. Suna wanted to stay though. So he asked Kita if he would just run one more time, and he could get the plays from Atsumu or Osamu the next day. Kita let him, on the condition that Suna wouldn’t try to outrun L/N.

“I’ve tried, it’s not something I can realistically say is possible for me. But I’m all for a good run, make sure you eat a good dinner when you get back to your dorm.” Kita waved him off and Suna snuck his way over to her.

He leaned his head over her shoulder, inspecting what exactly was on her watch, but she turned around before he could see anything.

“Ever heard of hello?” She poked him in the chest lightly. Suna shrugs. She continues speaking when he doesn’t make a move to leave her be, “This is my long run for today, 8 miles. Think you can stay on my pace? I’m not slowing down for you.”

“I’ll manage.”

So they ran, Suna got winded earlier than he thought, around the third mile. So he had to run slightly behind her, still trying to keep up and not get left behind. She talked to him, easily and without losing much steam. She talked mostly about running, Suna listened. At the end of the fourth mile, she paused.

She said something about stretching for a minute or two and then finishing the run and getting back to Inarizaki. He swallowed the gel tube she had offered him, letting the instant energy soak into his body. She did little hops and jumps, lunges and toe touches, Suna just sat down and tried to reset his energy.

He liked her shoulders, her legs, the way she did her hair, he especially liked the way she sweat. It wasn’t a waterfall like Atsumu and Osamu, it was a sheen on her body. The film of sweat coated her, and it made her shine, her face was flushed from the run, but she was still just smiling. Suna could finally care less about the single sun’s brutality, because she was worth a thousand vibrant suns in his eyes.

Screw Vitamin D, he needed Vitamin Her.

He kept up with her on the way back to Inarizaki, though he suspects that she slowed down slightly so he could keep in time and pace with her. Despite him being taller, and having longer legs, with the way she ran it was clear he was no match for her instinctive athleticism when it came to running.

With the stories she told about her failures in a bunch of other sports, and how she came to running in the first place, Suna was surprised. He hid it well, just nodding and trying to keep his breathing deep and long so that he wouldn’t croak like a fool in front of her. She liked to run because it was the only sport where she didn’t need to be good at anything besides breathing.

Her biology teacher, when she was in first year, said that the only thing needed for life is the ability to cellular respirate. To convert energy from sugars and food into ATP, the chemical reaction utilized breathing. Breathing allows the process to flow. Breathing to facilitate the conversion of sugar to ATP. Or something like that, Suna was getting distracted by the way her arm would occasionally brush his as she strode forward.

Getting back to Inarizaki was disappointing for Suna, he wanted to run with her for longer. Just to be with her for longer. Maybe that’s why he asked if she wanted to be in a run club with him. What he had meant to ask was if she wanted to run with him more often, but a run club comment came out before he caught it.

“Run club sounds like a great idea! It would be perfect for intra-athletic cross training, like volleyball did today at the track. I’ll talk to a few more of the other captains, I can be in charge and if you want, you can be second in command?”

“Yeah. I can do that.” He could not do it.

To call it a running club was a tortuous attempt at trying to tone down the reality of what it was. It was a group of boys who liked to watch her run. She knew that, and Suna knew that. She still beat them in every single race. The basketball captain, the tennis captain, even the swim captain came around and tried to beat her. She reigned on top of Inarkizaki’s holy track field. She was who they came to see. She was the shrine that the foxes would pray at.

The coaches saw her outstanding dedication to helping all the kids at Inarizaki, she won a coaches’ award for Most Dedicated Student Athlete. Suna thought it was extremely well earned for her.

Run club died down, and eventually it was just Suna and L/N again, the other boys got tired of just running all the time. Albeit, the sports teams were objectively just a little bit better that year. Running had shaped the teams into stamina beasts, Inarizaki could outlast any other team for the most part.

Suna had begun asking Kita more and more frequently to do running as an alternative to other conditioning routines. Kita agreed every single time. Suna supposed that Kita knew the real reason why he took breaks from training with the team, it was so he could spend more time with her.

Freaking track kids. Always freaking running around thinking they owned the place. Especially Ito Yuuta, freaking Ito always running with freaking Y/N. Even going as far to be freaking duo partners in all the freaking track competitions.

“If you sulk anymore I think your face will stay like that.” Aran then took a picture of Suna sitting on the bleaches with his shoulders hunched into himself and a disgusting scowl on his face.

“I just don’t know why we, as the volleyball team, have to watch the track competition.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re just mad because Ito gets to run with L/N instead of you running with her.” Osamu could suck an egg for all Suna cared.

Atsumu wanted to play a little game with Suna, just to see his reaction. Atsumu was also glad that Kita was with all the other sports captains cheering the runners on.

“I heard from a very reliable source that Ito copped a feel of her thigh before one of the races yesterday, and that he got a kiss from her when he won in his category.” Atsumu told Omimi just loud enough for Suna to hear.

The way Suna spun his head around was almost enough to have Atsumu falling to the ground in delight. Suna stood up and went right down to the field, folding his arms and shifting his weight from side to side.

She came barreling down the track from her race, giving high fives to her friends and hugs to her even closer friends. She had just won another first place prize, which made Suna unbelievably happy, but also he was seething.

Kita had finally caught wind of what was about to occur, and he tried to get down to the track to get Suna away from the track. But one of the adults had stopped him from going down, so Kita and the rest of the team just had to sit back and watch as the horror was about to unfurl.

Ito Yuuta also had just finished his race, giving Y/N a hug and twirling her around, which made her laugh.

Suna snapped.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Ito held up a hand in shock, clearly not understanding what was going on. “Celebrating a win?”

“Bet you’re thinking you’re going to celebrate with more than just a hug.”

She caught on faster than Ito did. She began to tell Suna to get back to the stands.

“So, you’re hiding stuff from me too? Is it because he’s a runner? What does he have that I don’t? I have like four inches on this guy.”

Suna was miserable now, completely distraught. He was only moderately calm when she pulled him away and sat him down on a bench reserved for the track kids.

“Let’s just take a deep breath Rintarou. Look, it's easy.” She inhaled deeply and then let out a breath.

“It’s not fair.” He whined. Suna didn’t think he was capable of whining. He also didn’t think he was capable of being so blindsided by his own jealousy. He dragged his hands down his face and realized he had fallen for bait given to him by Atsumu. He had fallen for a trap set up by a notorious jokester.

Only when Suna saw Ito kissing his boyfriend did Suna really get embarrassed. “I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not, you just acted like one for a few minutes.” She was rubbing his back and he felt even worse, he had acted like a complete child and there he was getting soothed by the same girl he had wanted to fight for.

“Just forget I said anything, I did anything, just forget I even exist please.”

“But you had at least four inches on that guy?” Suna groaned and ducked his head down even further. “That one was actually kinda funny, Rintarou.” She ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it.

She wanted to get one more kick out of the whole situation, “I think you have some kind of teenage hormonal rage going on, but based on Ito’s reactions, I fully believe you won. So, are you gonna celebrate with more than just a hug?”

“Y/N!”

Atsumu had to do 100 diving laps per Kita’s instruction as punishment for causing an embarrassment out of the volleyball team and for pushing Suna to his mental limits.

Suna always liked to lurk around her, even when she was tired of him. Getting asked how you were doing multiple times a day by the same person could in fact grow slightly old. When he got a hold of her number, he had made her number his personal journal.

Everything from complaints to worries were sent to her. One time, in class, she had her headphones in and was solving some problems. Kita, her seatmate, was getting slightly annoyed by all the buzzing from her phone that he just had to check and see what was going on. Kita did not expect to see twenty messages from Suna. So that's what he was doing on his phone during practice.

She did like having him around though, despite his clingy nature. Sometimes he wouldn’t even talk to her, he just wanted to be where she was. She could be in the library doing some research for a class, and he would ask if he could come and work on homework with her. She would be in her dorm folding clothes and he would be sitting at her desk trying to bask in the smell of her room without seeming like a creep.

They were sitting on the field, and the sun had just gone down. She used a flashlight to keep some light around so they wouldn’t be stuck in the dark. She was reading a book, for fun, which made Suna more intrigued. She had a small booklight, attached to the novel, lighting the pages in yellow. She would ask when it was good for her to flip a page, so Suna could read along. He was a slower reader than she was, he remembered that she shared classes with Kita, so obviously she would be smart.

It was a book about a younger guy meeting an older girl, and he was hopelessly in love. How ironic Suna thought. Fate was truly ironic, it loved to play little games on Suna like this. All the time, any chance it got, attempting to make Suna play along with the games at hand.

A few pages of reading together passed before Suna decided to stick her bookmark back into the book, taking it from her before she could complain. He set it aside, using his arm to push it far enough away so that she couldn’t just grab it back.

Sweat was still on their bodies from the run they had finished. But this was far more heart-rate inducing than any run they had ever gone on.

“I think I like you.” Suna used a hand to hold her face, looking right at her.

“That’s nice.” Suna shoved her shoulder, making her fall on her back as she started laughing and slightly rolling from side to side. Suna scoffed, rolling his eyes and falling onto his own back.

“That was and is going to be my only attempt at romance ever. I hope you know that. You’ve crushed any other chance for me being any sort of cute.” Suna mourned the fatality that had just occurred.

She pressed his shoulders down, and leaned over him. Then, she kissed him and ran.

Suna took chase quite quickly, stumbling a little at the shock, but he was racing for more than just training for volleyball. He had to win this race. Suna knew she let him catch up to her. She was spoon-feeding him all the right chances and opportunities, and he ate it all up.

“I need water.” He was holding her over his shoulder, and he was exhausted after running. He walked to the water cooler by the field bleachers.

“Let me down from here, I belong on the ground.” She kicked her feet a little, but he just clicked his tongue, shaking his head.

“You’d be on the ground if you didn’t make my heart sink into my stomach at your response to my confession.”

“I’d really truly not call that a confession. You just said you liked me, which is true for an awful lot of people. I think even Kita-”

He put her back on the ground and covered her mouth with his hand. He raised his eyebrows, just asking her to try that one more time. She raised her hands in surrender.

The rest of the year went by swimmingly (read: runningly). Run club almost every other day, which now featured eating at the dining hall together for the last call meal.

One of his favorite memories from that year was buying running shoes together.

When they went to buy running shoes, it had been a whole day affair. She took her crossbody bag and waited for him at the front of the school gates way too early in the morning. A disastrous nine in the morning meeting time, and on a Saturday too. He was tired only because he had made the unfortunate decision to call Osamu and Atsumu to his dorm that night for both outfit advice and behavior advice.

“I think you should nix the shoe-buying and just make-out the whole day while you’re away from school.” Atsumu ate another chip from the bag that was laying on his stomach, he was lounging on Suna’s bed without a care in the world.

Osamu took the chips and shoved them into the garbage bin. After throwing Atsumu the middle finger, he spoke to Suna, “Just be yourself, you haven’t started calling the pair of you a couple or anything yet, so as far as you know, it’s just a hang-out between friends.”

Suna held up a linen shirt in front of himself, waiting for Osamu’s genuinely constructive assessment. As he did so, Kita walked past the open dorm room and watched as Suna kept switching between the linen shirt and a regular Uniqlo grey shirt.

“She likes boys who wear basic clothes, go with the grey shirt. Linen can be for your first wedding anniversary.” Atsumu howled at Kita’s comment, and Osamu threw a volleyball at Kita through the door, which he caught effortlessly.

The grey shirt was the best decision he made, because their outfits ended up matching. Grey shirts and green cargo pants. She took a photo of them to celebrate a boy actually having fashion taste at their school. She was holding up a peace sign and Suna had his hand on the top of her head.

He didn’t mind that she took her time trying on all the shoes, every new pair she calculated and did little motions in. He just sat on the bench as she kept walking back and forth trying to imagine running in the shoes.

It was either the beige pair or the black and white pair. He was partial to the black and white pair because they looked like his own shoes, both for running and for volleyball. But the beige shoes had an appeal because she looked at them like they were just perfect.

So, he bought her the black and white pair.

They were sitting on the train and he was holding the shoe boxes on his lap, and she was holding her phone in front of the both of them, they were watching a video about volleyball. When he had expressed that his favorite team was EJP Raijin, she picked that as her favorite team too, and they watched all the games together. The video was a highlight reel of some of the best plays done by EJP Raijin.

She was leaning her head on his shoulder, and he thought that this was the best that life could get for him.

The worst was when she and all the third years on his team graduated. He had never been one for goodbyes. Especially since he knew she would still be around the next year going to university in central Hyogo, and she had been talking to her coaches about letting her be an assistant coach for the Inarizaki track and cross country clubs. It was just giving up on his close relationship with her so she could go and do her own thing in college.

Then his birthday rolled around, January 25th. It was cold outside and Suna was throwing his volleyball up into the air as he laid on his back. It had been a year since she had graduated. She visited frequently, but she was always so busy with only doing her job that Suna could only sit aside and pout.

She had never asked him to be her boyfriend, but he supposes that he never asked her to let him be her boyfriend either. He had been in a mood the whole day. He really did just miss being with her. He also missed running. The cold weather had made Atsumu ban everyone from staying outside too long, so no running in the fresh air, only in circles in the gym while Osamu just shouted out things that L/N was probably doing with other boys so Suna wouldn’t stop running from boredom.

Atsumu texted him and told him to come to the track field. So obviously, it had to be some form of a joke. Atsumu never encouraged his players to disobey the rules, especially the ones he made up himself.

Still, Suna put on his heaviest coat and stomped outside.

It was the best birthday present ever.

His favorite person was warming up on the track, stretching out her legs and doing her little hops that drove him crazy. He thinks he never ran faster.

“What are you doing here? Track season doesn’t start for another month?” He held onto her like she would disappear if he let go, playing with her hair and rubbing his freezing nose into her neck.

“It’s your birthday? What kind of friend am I?” She held her hands behind his neck. Somehow her hands were always warm, so the skin on his nape prickled for a second before he realized that he actually wanted her hands all over his exposed face.

“I would hope you’re not a friend at all, especially considering the things I think at night.”

“You murder me in your dreams?”

“You’re so annoying, I could actually just squish you right now.”

“Squish me?” She laughed and he could feel her whole body shake with joy. “And you said you’d never say anything cute ever again.”

They went for a short jog, and Suna realized she had gotten even better at running. They stopped their run at a small convenience store, and she was picking through the hot drink section. Suna just rested his head on his hands that were resting on the length of a shelf, watching her inspect the different cans.

She bought two green teas and threw one to Suna as they sat outside the store, watching the snow begin to fall and make a frosted world the new normal.

“What did you get me as a birthday present?” Suna pushed his knee against hers. Tilting her head, she held up the green tea. “That does not count as my birthday present.”

“Okay, now that I make somewhat grown up money, what is it that my favorite Sunarin wants for his little birthday?” She made an effort to baby talk as corny as she could.

He started at her jaw, pressing small kisses, giving her an out if she wanted, but she just happily sipped her tea. He pushed the can down so he could finally kiss her the way he wanted to all those times he had chickened out.

When he licked her bottom lip, and tried to open her mouth more, she pushed him away, just slightly.

“Woah there buddy.” Suna bit her ear in response, “At least make me your girlfriend geez.”

“Done.”

He just wouldn’t let her break up with him. He committed so hard to that philosophy that she had a ring on her finger to prove it the very next year. It was just the engagement ring he said, he had another one planned for when they would actually get married.

She got even better at running, but her real passions lied in helping others advance their physical skills, which is why Suna got her the athletic trainer position on his team, EJP Raijin. Half so he could see her everyday, and half so that he could get mandated massages from her.

She still made him run though, and he enjoyed it more everyday.

It was a run club, with just the two of them.

8 YEARS LATER...

“Ryohei! Remi! Slow down!” Suna yelled after the twins. She was busy with a new workout for some of his teammates, so he had to take their sons out for a run. He was still trying to teach them how to pace themselves when it came to the longer runs. They were only 6 but they had the energy of firecrackers, at least for the first ten minutes of the run.

He quickly caught up and his kids were both panting and insulting each other.

“I beat you!” Remi put his hands on his hips.

“No way! I touched the tree years before you did!” Ryohei was close to punching the identical copy of himself.

Suna just rubbed his hands on their heads. Turning them around so they could make their way home. On the way back, they stopped at the bookstore so Suna could buy some of the books he remember Y/N had mentioned a few weeks ago. Ryohei was the bookworm out of the two, so he asked for a new book as well. Remi just poked around until he found the video game section and asked if he could get a new game. Suna was weak to resist.

They were dragging their feet and complaining. Suna could feel his eye twitching slightly, before he remembered what was planned for dinner.

“I think mommy’s got udon waiting for us at home.” That put the right amount of pep in their step to get them running again.

Ryohei and Remi were kicking each other under the kotatsu table until Suna pulled them up so they were standing and told them to go get sleep clothes on. Letting Suna kick Y/N instead.

“Stop it.” Suna nudged his knee against her’s. “I mean it, I’ll make you sleep in their room instead of ours.”

Suna shrugged.

“Did you run today?” Suna ate another bite of his food.

“No, I was too busy dealing with your ragamuffins until you got back from practice.” She rested her head on the table, finally enjoying a moment of peace and silence.

“I know just the right workout to make up for missing a run.”

“I’ll kill you.”

“Easy there, I can see where our kids get their energy from. Because we both know it’s not me.”

She raised an eyebrow, “I don’t know about that, there’s a few times where you really let loose and went stir crazy. I recall multiple times when I was in college, oh and that time in high school when you chewed out a gay man because you believed Atsumu’s lies.”

Suna scoffed, asking her to let that one go, because Ito just had to tell that story at their wedding reception and his mom still called him about it for a good laugh.

When Suna and Y/N heard a crash in the upstairs bathroom, where their kids were supposed to be brushing their teeth, and then complete silence. They looked at each other and just laughed.

Maybe a run club of four was just a little bit better than a run club of just two.

[unholy-idiot]

I absolutely adore this fem design made by @peppermintpillz grraaah I couldn’t help myself she’s so fun to draw >_>

pleaseeeeee save me disco girl please please please

also bonus doodle I did with Aran and disco they’re kinda growing on me 💔

Stupid idiot, who does she think she is.

[neiptune]

hello santa neiptune for your holiday servings i think christmas pudding with either shoyo + a prompt 6 (family invited an old crush/first love to a dinner party) or sunsrin with prompt 19 ("I'm going to buy/make the worst secret Santa gift humanly possible") or atsumu with prompt 13 (neighbourhood festive decoration competition becomes dangerously competitive) smooch smooch smooch smooch

rintaro suna x I'm going to buy the worst secret santa gift humanly possible

“Shut up everyone, it’s time!”, Atsumu’s comically authoritarian tone swallows the chatter, the living room of his apartment growing silent.

“Why can’t we pick who we want to get a gift for?”, Aran grumbles from his end of the couch. The setter frowns.

“Because I think none of you assholes would pick me”.

“Whatever gave that away”, Suna clicks his tongue. A soft, empty stocking collides with his face.

“Yer picking first!”, Atsumu holds the old dunkin donuts box under his nose, shaking it slightly to further shuffle the folded pieces of paper in it.

“I’m going to buy the worst secret santa gift humanly possible”, Rintaro, ever the grinch, grumbles as slender fingers randomly draw a name.

“Rin, you’re supposed to look at it later!”, you lightly elbow him in the ribs but he pulls back, avoiding the jab. The only sign of something flashing across his deadpan features is a slight twitch of the brow as he reads the name he pulled out. Then it’s gone, small piece of paper tucked safely into the pocket of his sweatpants.

“Your turn”, Atsumu brings the box to you with a grin. You know he hopes you draw his name, you’re notoriously the best gift giver of the group and he wasn’t exactly ecstatic about the Blue Lock themed calendar Osamu got him the previous year, especially with that insufferable Rin dude occupying the page dedicated to his birth month.

“I hope it’s me”, Osamu crosses his fingers from the other side of the room, where he’s resting his back against the fireplace. You chuckle, keep the small piece of paper in your closed fist as you patiently wait for everyone else to draw their names.

The boys make a whole spectacle out of unfolding the pieces of paper, Atsumu the most teased one between whistles, oohs and ahhs. You make sure not to let the small pang of disappointment shine through your smile: you’re happy it’s Kita, you love Kita. You just would’ve loved for it to be Rin more.

The designated gift exchange day is a week later, right on christmas eve. The anxiety churning in your stomach is suffocating because why would you even get something for him too? All you had to do was pick a nice gift for Shinsuke, the easiest person to please on planet earth. But now there are two extra nicely wrapped presents under the tree in your living room, one of them will make you look like a complete dumbass because there won’t be any logical explanation to justify an additional gift. Atsumu will never shut up about it, like, ever. Fuck.

You’re abruptly pulled away from your thoughts when the doorbell rings, the sound making you jump. Confusion is still written all over your features when you open the door, not expecting any guest or delivery.

“Hey”, Rintaro tosses you a tiny smile to balance the hesitancy out.

“Rin”, surprised, you blink a few times, “you okay?”.

“Yeah. Can I come in?”.

“Of course!”.

He takes off his shoes and slowly steps into your apartment, cheeks unusually flushed courtesy of the cold outside.

“What’s that?”, you curiously peek at the bag he holds in his hand while he walks to your couch and you gingerly trail behind him.

“I’m your secret santa”, he clears his throat, “didn’t wanna give this to you in front of everyone. Don’t make it weird”.

You sit next to him with mirth swarming in stupidly bright eyes. Suna feels his palms getting clammy.

“So you wanted to give me the worst gift humanly possible… early?”.

“Exactly. Here”, he hands you the small paper bag, “you’re welcome”.

“You’re a dick”, you giggle, unable to disguise the affection in your voice.

Inside the bag there are two numbered envelopes. You open the first, smaller one.

“What the…?”, it’s a regular yellow post-it, with a handwritten note.

Congratulations on your hardly earned free time. Make the most of it :)

“Check the other one”, Suna indicates the remaining envelope.

“I’m confused”.

The second gift is… handmade coupons for messy, scribbled options: concert, one meal, roadtrip, win an argument, breakfast.

“You get two coupons. I kinda already have tickets for your favorite band”.

“But”, your throat feels dry, “I don’t… I have to work?”.

“You don’t. I emailed your boss, got you some time off, something you never would’ve done for yourself”, Suna looks away, inscrutable as always. Your heart slams harder against your ribcage.

“Rin”.

He meets your gaze and you offer a smile.

“I got you something too”.

thank you for trusting my writing, hope you enjoy! happy holidays mwah

[forusomimiya]

"Strip for me honey, slow. I want to savor every inch of you" with those lustful dark eyes burning into your skin, you stripped before him as he asked you to, leaving you only that lace outfit, and eager to be touched as soon as possible by that businessman, who had not yet taken off his suit, and who remained seated in that leather armchair, illuminated from behind with the lights of the city that could be seen from up there, as if it were a field of fireflies.

"This is going to be the dirtiest night of your life, c’mere" the tap on his leg forced you to walk towards him. Sitting on his lap and entwining your hands behind his neck, he hid his face between your breasts, smelling them, restraining himself from leaving the marks of his fingers on your waist with his grip, when he let his lips walk down your neck, in the direction of your ear, where he whispered to you: “try to stay quiet, understand?”

You nodded silently. The grip on your chin melted you so extremely badly, that when you looked up and read the "good girl" on his lips, you swore you whined.

Soon he would fuck you raw on that couch. He would make you kneel before him and make you choke on his cock under the nickname of "pretty cock sucker", which would snatch your first orgasm, and then give a good show to those watching from below that tall office block.

"Show them how pretty you get when daddy fucks you rough and let you cum around his cock after you've been good for him" the thought that someone might be watching makes the fear grow in your body, but, no one here knows you. You just came to meet that man who courted you two days ago in a bar, to fulfill your fantasy of being fucked by a businessman in his own office.

It didn't matter who was watching, ‘cause the reflection of the lights in the glass of the window in which he had you trapped, would show the details that you like in such a man, reminding you for an instant what you are doing with your life right now.

A tall, broad-shouldered man, dressed but with his blazer long forgotten. Sleeves rolled up, revealing a trail of veins on his forearm, and an expensive black and silver watch on his wrist. The top buttons of the shirt open, as a good and sexy solution to the heat on his body, but not for you when you focused on his boobs. So big... you drooled. His tie tied around your wrists, and while with one hand he leaned on the glass, with the other he held your chin, encouraging you to raise your head to see you suffer better.

He wouldn't be long before he dropped his hand on your neck to squeeze it, the veins on the back of his hand showing as he put more pressure on your throat

"C’mon pretty girl, cum with me"

This man would be your ruin in the coming months.

IWAIZUMI, USHIJIMA, OSAMU, BOKUTO, LEV, DAICHI, MATTSUN, ARAN, KUROO