araragomennnn

[araragomennnn]

set up | chapter one

miya atsumu x reader

When the new MSBY Black Jackals's PR head comes to town, you have three rules: stay focused, stay sharp, and stay away from Miya Atsumu. From your worst nightmare at sixteen to Japan’s heartthrob, Atsumu has always attracted trouble. You're here to do your job but unbeknownst to you, the universe has other plans. So when fate sets the ball, will Atsumu be the one to receive it? tags: fluff, angst, enemies to lovers, slow burn, pining, childhood rivals, second chance romance, humour, suggestive themes, explicit smut. notes: 4k words. I'm really excited for this series. I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

series masterlist -> chapter two

The Miya Atsumu that you knew was, without a shadow of a doubt, the most irritating man you had ever met.

He was the jerk who would hold your things above your head and make you jump like an idiot to grab them back. He was the insufferable prick who would chase your dates away, acting like your boyfriend, delivering rehearsed lines that, if you remember correctly, were something along the lines of “ Y/N, who is that?”

“Are ya cheating on me?” with mock hurt trained on his features, you remember the vivid urge you had to slap that pout off his face.

You wholly blame him for your very dry love life in high school.

All things considered, your history with Miya wasn’t the best. He was the kind of guy you'd cross the road to avoid. He was loud and charming, charisma dripped from his every pore, but his actions were coated thick with ego. Everything about him screamed ‘look at me!’, he was a head-turner, you per se were not, deliberately though. Constantly under the spotlight, to be close to him would mean you too would be under the eyes of scrutiny, so you avoided him from your very first day however, unfortunately for you, that’s exactly what drew him closer to you.

He was stubborn and oh so annoying, he’d take your stuff just to get a reaction out of you, blame things on you to get you into trouble with a smirk plastered across his lips the entire time.

You despised him with every fibre of your being.

At sixteen, he made your life a living hell, and unfortunately for you, at twenty five, not much has changed.

It was a long time ago, you had rationalised when you took the job though deep down you had known better, your pay check effectively blinding you.

The pay was good, like good good, enough to make you swallow your distaste for him. Being the head of the MSBY PR team, that was expected. So, why let some old childish bickering stand in the way of you and your bag?

It couldn’t possibly be that bad, you had thought. Awkward? Maybe. But bad? No, right?

Perhaps if he brought up your far from civil past together, you could laugh it off and settle things professionally and politely. No need to worry, right?

Never had you been more wrong.

It’s barely 1 am when the calls and texts start flooding in. You pull the covers over your head, groaning loudly as the vibrating of your phone becomes unignorable. Groggily switching on your lampshade you turn over to pick up your phone and your suspicions are confirmed.

Fucking Miya.

It’s the sixth time this month, paparazzi pictures of Miya at a club with a new girl on his lap in each one, sucking each other’s faces and a firm grip on their ass, have been released.

Every single picture looked like that.

Every single one.

Fully awake now, you sit up and scroll through the pictures, estimating the damage and then you get into action. Notifying those in the team that didn’t already know. Anticipating this, after the second incident, you had drawn out multiple plans and outcomes in advance, and after a couple of hours of calls and emails, most of the evidence of Miya’s late-night endeavours were, for the most of it, gone. The only thing left to do for the night was berating him.

The anger you had suppressed while cleaning his mess, was now taking over. Your breaths became heavier as you stabbed at the call button.

He picked up on the first ring, almost as if he had been waiting.

“Hey sweetheart,” he drawls lazily, you can almost hear him smirking.

“Fucking again Miya? Seriously?” you exclaim, basically seething at this point, might as well take it out on him.

“M sorry babe,” he says, in a tone that gives away exactly how sorry he is. You can almost picture him smirking, lazily sprawled on his bed, still in his clubbing clothes.

“The nicknames are not helping, I will report you to HR,” you say through gritted teeth. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you let out an exhausted sigh. “You are the worst part of my job.”

“C’mon I said I said I was s-” 

You don’t hear what he has to say next because you hang up on him.

“Asshole” you mumble as your eyelids begin to get heavy with exhaustion, slowly drifting you off to your well deserved slumber.

Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

The thing is, Atsumu has been everything but civil to you since you arrived, giving no care to professionalism. It was as if no time had passed, he was still the same annoying, insufferable man child he was in high school.

When you finally took the job, meeting him again in a professional setting in front of a shitload of people, after all these years when you held out your hand to shake his and he brought your knuckles to his lips instead, you instantly knew that he was not going to be making this job easy for you. 

You did not hide your grimace.

Normally, you wouldn’t need to speak to him as much as you do but Miya if anything was an absolute pain in the neck. You were a fool to think he’d let you get away unscathed. Not a week passes without him spending at least an hour in your office, talking your ear off about something that has absolutely nothing to do with why he was called and unfortunately for you today was one of those days.

“Miya, I couldn’t be bothered with who you hook up with, but at least have the decency to do it behind closed doors.”

“Really, because you seemed awfully bothered last night,”

“Because that’s my job, idiot.” You groan, leaning back into your chair, arms folded across your chest.

He flashes his palm in mock defence, rolling his eyes. “Right.”

“I know this is a huge pill for you to swallow, but not everybody you know is in love with you.” 

You find yourself here with him quite often, bickering aimlessly. He absolutely loved getting under your skin.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, sweetheart” he drawls as he leans back into the chair, the fabric of his shirt stretching across his chest.

“What did I say about the nicknames!” you exclaim, palms lightly slamming the table.

 He rolls his eyes, lips upturned slyly, “alright, Y/N”

“That’s L/n to you,” you huff with furrowed brows and squinted eyes.

His face falls for a moment but it’s gone as fast as it came and you contemplate whether you imagined it.

And as if to save you from the impending nightmare that is Miya Atsumu your phone rings in your pocket and you make shooing motions with your hand, signalling for him to get out.

“I need to take this, go annoy someone else.” you state without sparing him a glance.

“Who is it?” he asks, getting off his chair to lean over your desk.

“None of your business, leave.”

“Fine, be like that.” he huffs as he stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jacket, turning on his heels.

You answer the call, a relaxed smile contorting your features, “Hey, yeah we’re still on for tonight.”

That’s all Atsumu hears before he begrudgingly closes the door behind him.

You had a date.

And you were embarrassingly nervous about it, shuffling and trying out variations of outfits in front of the mirror. 

If truth be told, despite being twenty five, you've never had any substantial dating experience from the zero romantic relationships in high school to a college boyfriend you dated simply for the sake of dating. When you were young, you had imagined your love life would look like something akin to what you’d read in all those Shoujo mangas. However, what awaited you in high school was anything but.

If you had to think back to any man that you had an interest in or had an interest in you, you remember how Astumu would go above and beyond to make you look stupid in front of them.

Like that one time.

“Rin-kun..”, you start, standing in the school hallway. Your face feels warm, and your fingers find the hem of your sweater. Suna was cute, quiet and stayed out of trouble and in your sixteen year old head, arguably the perfect match for you. You remember thinking that this is how they do it in the manga, a box of homemade chocolates wrapped in pretty pink ribbon, a note neatly folded inside. 

Suna was looking at you with his head tilted in confusion before you heard footsteps behind him. 

“SUNARIN!” 

The loud shrieking coming from behind Suna makes you jump. That sounds like…-

“Ah, Atsumu,” Suna responds, turning in his direction.

You panic internally, no, no, no, your perfect Shoujo moment!

Atsumu falls next to Suna, throwing an arm around his neck.

“Ah choco!” he exclaims.

“No, wai-” but before your words reach his ears, Atsumu has already ripped the lid of your perfect box off, digging his grubby fingers in and pulling out a fistful of your perfectly made hazelnut homemade chocolates before stuffing them in his mouth.

Your jaw falls in horror.

“Ah, Y/N didn’t know ya made snacks for the class,” Atsumu says through a mouthful.

“Ahh,” Suna hums in realisation to Atsumu’s words. 

“Thanks Y/N,” Suna says, shooting you a small smile and picking a piece before walking off. You watch in horror.

A beat passes.

Atsumu is looking at you smugly, hands in his pockets.

“Miya, you absolute fuc-” 

“You have something in your teeth.”

“Huh? What-” You pull out your hand mirror, flashing your teeth to check. What’s he talking about? Your teeth look fi-  before the realisation falls upon you. 

You angrily snap your mirror shut, “ATSUMU GET BACK HERE!!!”

But he’s already walking away, hands in his pockets, his hearty laughter echoes in the corridor. 

--

Zipping the nth minidress of the night, you checked yourself out in your reflection. Your hands traced the sides of your body, sliding down your curves. You let out a contented sigh as your lips slightly curve at the pretty sight. This is the one.

You don’t know why you were putting all this effort into a Tinder date with a half-handsome, half-  okay guy you’d barely spoken to. If truth be told, you can’t remember the last time you’d been to dinner with a man or the last time you put this much effort into your appearance. You lean into the mirror, assessing your features with squinted eyes. Your makeup was done well, mascara perfectly applied, such that there were no remnants smudged on your lids, your base was flawless, and to finish the look, you’d swiped on your favourite lip combo. You smile at the mirror and wonder when the last time you did something like this in your off time was.

Your thoughts were cut short by the frantic ringing of your doorbell.

“Coming!” you half shriek. Much to your annoyance, the constant ringing does not stop, “Jesus fucking christ, I said I was coming.”

Swinging the door open, you immediately slam it shut, but to no avail as Atsumu stops you from doing so with his foot.

“Why are you here?”

“Well, hello to ya too,” he pouts, brows knit together as if he wasn’t expecting you to slam the door in his face.

You glare at him, huffing as you try to shut the door despite his foot still blocking the way. Curse his pro athlete strength.

“Yer wasting yer energy.”

You let out a defeated sigh and look up at him wearily, “Why are you here Miya?”

He waves a bouquet of tulips in front of your face, “to apologise to ya” he huffs.

You blink, there’s a beat of silence. “Obviously” he mumbles, scratching his neck sheepishly.

You snort, “By punishing me?”

“Oh ha ha, yer so hilarious” he deadpans and your lips momentarily curve into a smirk.

He nudges the door open with his foot and slides in, you scowl, “I wasn’t even going to let you in.”

“Yeah, that’s why I let myself in.” 

Psychically restraining yourself from punching him in the face, you shut the door behind you with a sigh.

“How did you even get my address?”

He ignores your question and shoves the bouquet into your hands, “m sorry for makin yer job harder for you, considering yer new and all”

“So you apologise by barging into my home and giving me something that attracts insects?” you deadpan, quirking a brow.

But you have a feeling that he isn’t listening as you watch his eyes trace your figure, drinking you up like your his, his adam’s apple bobs and you swear he just gulped.

“Take a picture, it'll last longer.”

Atsumu perks up, eyes wide, and you bite back a triumphant smile.

“Maybe I will,” he responds slyly.

You scoff, rolling your eyes.

“What ya all dolled up for?” he asks all while shamelessly eyeing you. Curse this man.

“A date, so if you would please leave,” you reply, gesturing towards the door.

His smirk, for the first time in a long time, drops. Any signs of joking, completely gone. 

His face is solemn as he asks, “With whom?”

“Just some guy I met on Tinder” you shrug, “now why are you asking me this?”

His gaze that you were indifferent to, bore into you with a foreign expression; it took everything in you not to squirm. “Don’t go.”

“What?”

“Don’t go”, he repeats like it’s the most obvious thing ever.

“Now, why would I do that?” 

“Where is he takin ya?” he asks, ignoring your previous inquiry.

“And I should tell you because…?”

“Because it’d make you 20,000 yen richer.”

“That Italian place a couple of blocks from here,” you respond.

He scowls, “That dump?”

You roll your eyes and scoff at his audacity, “Oh I’m sorry we’re all not pro athletes that earn 6 figures,” slumping against the door, “now would you please just leave?” you groan.

“How about I take ya out instead, as an extended apology, of course”, he proposes.

“How about no?”.

He rolls his eyes, hands propped on his hips, “You are one stubborn woman, ya know?”

“Are you really saying that after inviting yourself over to my place?” you hiss.

He scrunches up his nose and reluctantly responds, “touché.”

“Anyways,” he continues, “what if I took ya to that Michelin star restaurant ya wouldn’t shut up about in high school? Everything on me, of course”

You blink, the proposal hangs in the air for a bit and Atsumu gets visibly nervous.

“You remember?”

“Yeah,” he replies, avoiding eye contact.

Oh, you think.

“Oh,” you say.

You almost smiled, and then you remembered who the person in front of you was again.

“What’s the catch?”

“Jesus, give me some credit for fucks sake”

“Our past makes this very unconvincing” You scrutinise every muscle on his face, searching for a giveaway.

Finding nothing but an annoying pout that you don’t want to look at anymore, your expression relaxes a bit as you weigh the pros and cons of agreeing to go out with him.

Pros

Free food

Free good food 

Free good food at your favourite place of all time.

Cons

Atsumu’s yapping

Atsumu

Maybe you could reschedule with the Tinder guy? You turn his proposal over in your head. Atsumu's apologising is uncanny and considering he went out of his way to make it up to you,

you sigh. 

He smiles genuinely; you almost die of shock.

 “Give me five minutes to finish my makeup.” 

It’s been years since you’ve been alone with Atsumu, putting aside the time spent at work where you breezed through the banter, often yelling profanities at each other. 

More accurately, it’s been years since you’ve been alone with Atsumu willingly. 

You can feel his gaze flicker between you and the road every couple of seconds, “What?” you ask, tilting your head away from the window to look at him. 

“Nothing”, he responds a touch too fast.

You eye him suspiciously before returning your gaze to the passing scenery, the gears begin to turn in your head.

You saw this coming. 

Of course, Atsumu has never been this kind.

He pulls out your chair for you, you cock your brow questioningly, and he shrugs.

You watch him as he scans the menu, so he’s waiting for you to order, huh?

How despicable.

You picked what you wanted and he signalled for the waiter, giving your order as well as his. 

“Oh an’ no walnuts please, she’s allergic”

The waiter bows and takes their leave. You blink at him, he gives you a puzzled look, “What?”

“How did you know that?”

“That yer allergic?” you nod and he continues, “Well, you would avoid them like the plague in high school,”

You raise your eyebrows, signalling for him to continue.

“And I remember at our graduation party, you asked someone if there were walnuts in the brownies and later came back from yer ‘bathroom break’ lookin really pale.” He finishes and the last few words come out quieter than the rest.

Your mouth hangs ajar. “You noticed all of that?”

“Yeah”, he replies in a voice softer than you remember, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

For the first time in what seems like forever, you were dumbfounded.

“Oh, um”, you try to reply with something sarcastic or witty like you usually do, but your chest felt weird, and his words were all you could think about.

As if to spare you from any upcoming embarrassment, the food arrived. It should be any moment now.

You carefully swallow down the first spoon, and as anticipated, he’s looking straight at you, elbows propped on the table, fingers interlaced.

He’s so obvious you might laugh.

 “So about the msby anniversary gala, my date cancelled and I was hoping that you’d come as my date instead”

“Huh”

Did you hear him right?

“See, before you get mad at me for lying, in my defence-”

“That’s the catch?” you exclaim, “There is no way that this is equivalent exchange, I was not expecting that-”

“Expecting? Wait, ya knew?”  he asks, confused, shocked and slightly impressed.

“I’ve had the unfortunate experience of knowing you in high school, and I’m sorry, but your tells are so very obvious.”

“They are not!” he exclaims, childishly pouting. 

“You are a man of ulterior motives!” you exclaim, pointing a finger at him.

“Oh shut yer trap,”

You roll your eyes, “whatever, I’m not going as your date’s stand-in”

“Oh come on, please okay, I’ll ask nicely,” he whines,

“No,” a moment passes with him looking at you with an uncharacteristically pleading look in his eyes. 

You scowl, “Is there nobody else you can bother with this?”

“If there was, do ya think I woulda come to ya?” he huffs as he folds his arms across his chest.

You should have left when you had the chance, you thought to yourself. “You must be desperate.”

He grits his teeth and looks away,

 “If I were to say yes” you continue, he whips his head in your direction, eyes wide, “What’s in it for me?”

“I’ll leave you alone for a month..?” Atsumu proposes, unsurely shrugging his shoulders.

You click your tongue. 

“Okay, okay,” he eases you, flashing his palms nervously. 

“Name your price, anything.”

“Anything?” you inquire with a very concerning look in your eyes and a devilish grin on your lips. 

Atsumu swallows in fear. Is it too late for takebacks?

“Until the gala, you have to do whatever I tell you. No questions. No complaints. You’re officially at my mercy, then I’ll come with you.”

Atsumu clicks his tongue, eyebrows scrunched. He grins devilishly, “I’m game.”

He interlaces his fingers and with his elbows on the table, he leans in, bordering your personal space.

“Try to make it worth my while.”

This man. 

You feel irritation prick your skin. His golden orbs bored into you with his face mere inches away as you held his gaze in contempt. Releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding, when he finally leaned back into his seat, propping his arms on both armrests, manspreading. 

Stupid indifference tugging at his features.

You clear your throat.

 “Anyways, I don’t have a dress-”

“That’s not a problem, I’ll buy ya one,” he says nonchalantly.

Your eyebrows shoot up, “ I’ll take ya shopping”

“That’s not nece-”

“No”, he places a finger flat on your lips, and you blink in surprise. 

You reach to swat his arm away, but he catches your wrist and lays your hand gently on the table, looking you straight in the eye with his standard shit-eating grin. You scowl.

—

Leaning against his sports car, he watched you as you began to retreat into your apartment complex.

“No goodbye kiss?” he taunts with a mock pout. 

“Sure.” You shrug, completely indifferent. 

You snicker inwardly, he’s not the only one who knows how to get under somebody’s skin.

His eyebrows shoot up, orbs blown wide. “Wh-what?” he stammered. The moonlight catches in his hair, the mixed light from the lamp posts and moonlight reflecting off his car. His hands are shoved in his trouser pockets, and he looks as if he’s gone into cardiac arrest.

You shove down the urge to take a picture for blackmail purposes. 

You gingerly place a hand on his cheek, he stiffens under your touch but makes no move to brush it off, tentatively leaning in, his gaze flickers between your eyes and lips, and for a reason unbeknownst to you, heat rushes to your cheeks.

You’re close enough to see the tinge of red that has spread across his cheeks, and just as you think his eyes are about to flutter shut, you smirk.

You pinch his cheek, and he lets out an indignant yelp.

You howl, head thrown back in laughter, and though it’s at his expense, it’s bright and captivating. He swats your hand off his cheek and rubs at the sore patch of skin, “You are so fucking annoying”, he mumbles, rubbing his temples with his pointer finger and thumb.

“Aw, did you actually think I was going to kiss you?” you tease, and for a moment something akin to hurt washes over his features, you blink, and then it’s gone.

In a flash, his hand is right in front of your face, and he flicks your forehead. You jolt back, bringing your hands up to soothe the burning of your skin. You scowl at him. He smirks. “Whatever, now fuck off.”

You roll your eyes, “gladly.”

The following week flies by with you knee deep in deadlines and paperwork. Atsumu managed to stay out of trouble ever since the incident, and though begrudgingly, you had to give credit where it was due. For reasons you couldn’t pin down, you found your mind going back to the intensity of Miya’s gaze as you leaned in, how his lips were parted slightly in anticipation and what would have happened if you had closed the distance. Your mind wandered without your consent to the possibilities and outcomes, if his lips were just as soft as they looked, what his hands would feel like if they were wrapped around your waist or even better, your ne -. 

You mentally slap yourself and push these nauseating thoughts down, your heated face in your hands, accompanied by an accelerated heart rate. What the fuck.

series taglist (comment to be added): @isaisio , @shooketh-h0e , @fweakygyatt , @animebabe19 , @anahid23285 , @mean-mandyy , @bakingcuriosity , @timeskipkenma , @nnchiichii , @that-lady ,@mon-cherries , @kryzi , @followingmysunsposts ,@kokoiinuts ,@kokoiinuts , @wh3reforangst ,@ccllaaiirreeeee , @homeslices , @sillypenguinangel , @itsclda , @casua11ycrying , @anshika111 , @sophiahearttss , @xyyyulat , @01heyheyhey

[araragomennnn]

HOT AND BOTHERED

pairing : shoyo hinata x f!reader summary : how wonderful... the hottest day of the year decides to strike in the midst of exam season. and lucky you, coming home to find out your ac is broken. however, your attention is more directed at your roomate stood sweaty and shirtless, trying desperately to fix it cw : friends to lovers trope, roomates au, reader is thirsty, ooc?, teasing, suggestive/lusting, shirtless, mild kys comment ("go die"), profanity, no use of y/n word count : 2.4k

for mel : hiii love ( @deltamel ) lucky was i to have you as my giftee for lale's ( @sodaneko ) summer fic exhange event. and my goooood did i have fun writing this. it's nice to do some fluff every now and then lol. hope this lives up to the expectations, giving us some summer vibes with best boy sho <3 mwah love you

It felt as if walking straight into a wall, the unbearable heat that filled the small apartment hitting you right in the face the second you opened the front door.

Dry and heavy air filled your lungs, feeling the sweat droplets form on your forehead before you heard a frustrated and loud “go die!” travel down the hallway.

You dropped your bag on the floor before slowly making your way further into the apartment, curiously peaking your head around the corner into the living room and was met with quite the scene.

Every single window was wide open in an attempt to let fresh air in, every tool imaginable scattered all over the floor, coffee table had somehow been tipped over and the items usually placed on top, now spread about.

And lastly, your roommate stood on the back of the couch with his bare back facing you, both hands gripping onto the AC. It nearly looked as if he was about to rip the thing off the wall.

“Sho?” You asked in confusion, causing him to quickly take a glance over his shoulder and you spotted how his face was nearly the same color as his hair due to the raging, still heat, growing more and more suffocating by the second. “What’s going on?”

With a groan, he jumped down from the couch and grabbed his t-shirt from the floor to wipe the sweat off his face — and to your surprise, it caused you to draw a sharp breath, trapping it behind sealed lips.

Oh lord.

It wasn’t until that moment you realised you had never really seen him without a shirt on, let alone sweaty and glistening due to the heat, as well as having worked himself exhausted trying to fix the damn thing — and it was definitely a sight to be seen.

Who knew that was what he hid under his vast selection of plain, white t-shirts that he always wore. You guess you should have figured. He was an athlete after all, dedicating his life to volleyball.

It was just the fact that you’d known him all these years as the small guy, always bouncing around with all the energy he had in his body, and a fiery personality to match it.

This evolution into an adult, and a hella attractive one at that, had just flown right over your head.

Or maybe it was because you had always looked at him with a little extra twinkle in your eyes, so it wasn’t something that came as a surprise to you — it just caught you off guard.

Nonetheless, your mouth was running dry as you fought the urge to let your eyes trail his toned torso — suddenly you were thankful for the abominable temperature of the apartment, so you could blame it for causing your face to heat up.

“You okay?” Tossing his shirt aside again, he kept his eyes on you as he passed you on his way to the kitchen to fix himself a glass of water.

You cleared your throat, “yeah,” you said, voice coming out just the tiniest more high pitched than you would have preferred, “just hot in here, ‘s all!”

He slammed the empty glass on the counter after emptying the whole thing in one chug. “Stupid AC’s broken and I’ve spent all day trying to fix the thing!” He whined and threw his head back.

Did you feel a little nasty for taking the opportunity to ogle him? Sure, but you just couldn’t help it when his chest rose and sank slowly as he took deep, exasperated breaths.

“And it’s not like it’s any chillier outside,” he continued to complain, snapping you out of your stare when he threw his arm out to gesture towards the open windows. “So this doesn’t help!”

“Why don’t you just call the janitor?”

His arms fell to his side, turning his full attention to you, looking at you with big eyes. “The janitor?”

You huff a little chuckle, using the back of your hand to dry your forehead — god, it was absolutely unbearable to be here. The fact that you were wearing a tank and shorts didn’t even help.

“Not the sharpest tool in the shed are you, Hinata,” you sighed and walked over to the cabinet above the stove to grab the list of contact information to everyone working in the building — but not before peaking a quick, innocent glance at his abs.

Your finger traveled the page, scanning for the janitor’s number. However, you were unable to read any of the words on the page, too flustered by Shoyo suddenly standing right behind you to look over your shoulder.

He was so close you could feel his breath fan the side of your neck, and if you were to move not even an inch, you would feel his skin make contact with yours. It had the hairs on your neck stand straight up.

Quickly you swallowed the massive lump that had formed in your throat and tried to retort back to your usual self. With a groan, you turned ever so slightly and placed a flat hand on his chest, trying not to pay attention to how hot his skin felt against your palm, as you shoved him away.

“You’re breathing down my neck, freak!” You snared at him, jumping back to the act you were used to of pretending he had no effect on you. “Not to mention it’s too hot in here for you to be that close!”

“Sorry,” he said, not a drop of sincerity in his apology as he rolled his eyes at your little outburst before leaning against the counter behind him.

Growing even hotter, you tilted your head further and raised the catalog slightly, hiding your embarrassment behind the piece of paper. You just knew he wouldn’t be able to piece two and two together, and would end up spewing a string of questions to why you suddenly became so hot and bothered — and you would have to explain yourself.

“Here, janitor,” you cleared your throat as you fished your phone out from your back pocket. “Can’t believe you haven’t passed out in here already,” you joked as you placed the phone to your ear.

He shrugged, defeat covering his face. “Wanted to fix it,” he mumbled grumpily.

“You’re ridiculous sometimes, you know- hi there!” You cut yourself off mid sentence as the janitor suddenly picked up on the other end.

You didn’t hesitate to cut to the chase, explaining the situation and giving him the apartment number. “I’ll just leave the door open, it’s too hot for us to stay here,” you chuckled politely before eventually saying goodbye.

The phone call ended, and somehow Shoyo looked even more defeated now than he did before you ever picked up the phone, arms knitted in front of him with a pout he tried to bite back.

“Shoyo-“ you sighed, grabbing his attention. Your frustration was strangled in your throat when he managed to take your breath away again for a split second once you locked eyes. Quickly you tried to shake out of it, hoping you caught yourself fast enough for him not to notice how he was causing you to act so giddy.

“What?” He complained childishly.

“He wasn’t available just yet, and we’ll die from heat exhaustion if we stay here,” you averted your gaze, wiping some imaginary dust off the counter behind you. “And seeing as you’re in such a mood-“ he huffed disapprovingly, “how about you put a damn shirt on, and I’ll treat us for some ice cream.”

Even through the thick heat you could sense how the atmosphere changed at the mention of ice cream. And when you turned to look at him again, confident you’d be able to meet his gaze this time, he was already gone to do as you had requested.

“You know, sometimes you’re really a genius,” Shoyo gushed before going in for a huge lick of his soft serve.

Though amused, you narrowed your eyebrows at him. “Sometimes?”

“Yeah,” he smiled and turned to you, “like, rarely! But you have your moments. Like going for ice cream!”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you exclaimed dramatically, “but as I recall it, you’re the one who basically spent hours in the pits of hell because you forgot there was such a thing as a janitor!”

“Not my brightest moment,” he defended himself. He went in for another lick, not really expecting you to continue the little spat.

“So the way I see it, just today, I’ve had two strikes of genius. What do you bring to the table?”

Again he turned to you, squinting with clear offence — though you saw how he was actively fighting to keep his lips closed and the corners of his mouth from angling upwards.

“If anything, you might actually have lost brain cells while torturing yourself in there. Which is definitely critical, seeing as you don’t have all that many to spare.”

Unlike him, you did not try to hide the genuine joy that traveled through your body. Your smile was as wide as your face, flashing your teeth with pride as you saw how he too did find you funny — he just didn’t want to admit that.

“Damn, aren’t you funny,” he said sarcastically, noticing how he was leaning closer, redirecting his ice cream.

“Thanks, I know,” you giggled, slowly leaning away as you just couldn’t help but continue to deliberately push his buttons.

“Wait a minute-“ he turned his gaze to the tip of your nose.

“Sho-“ you warned.

“You got something right there,” he pointed with his free hand, instantly causing you to grab ahold of his wrist to twist his hand away.

“Stop, I was only joking,” you continued to giggle, still leaning back further and further. It also became very evident you would have no chance in fighting him off — whatever he was planning to do to tease you, he would succeed in doing it.

“Lemme just-“ in the blink of an eye, you felt your face turn cold. It had happened so quickly, there was no chance of you ever stopping him from shoving his soft serve in your face.

“My god,” you groaned, feigning frustration. He could tell, which is why there was not a single drop of remorse as his victory smile grew. “Just means less ice cream for you.” With the back of your hand you wiped your nose.

“You didn’t get it all,” he said, his own laughter slowly fading out.

“Hm? Where?”

“There,” he attempted to gesture towards his own face. Trying to follow his vague directions, you wiped across your lips.

“Now?”

“No,” he laughed. “Right there,” he now pointed just below your bottom lip, and again you tried to wipe it off. Apparently you were unsuccessful, evident by his eye-roll. “I got it.”

“Shoyo!” You burst out and placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him — because if you didn’t know any better, your friend was currently leaning forward as if he was going in for a kiss to lick off whatever residue was left.

Maybe you actually didn’t know better.

It was an action that instantly had you turn mute, and now there was no hiding any signs of embarrassment that washed over you.

You kept letting your eyes roam his face, hoping to see anything that resembled the sheer horror you were feeling on his features — but there were none. He had that faint smile still plastered on his lips, and he looked right into your eyes.

And bold as he was, he let his gaze jump to your lips — worse was he let it rest there for a solid three seconds before making eye contact again.

“What are you doing?” You said breathlessly, hand still with a soft grip on his shoulder. It was honestly the only thing that kept you planted in reality.

With an unexpected amount of confidence, he shrugged, smug smirk still on his lips. “Helping you out.”

“Were you going to-“ you stuttered, finger flipping back and forth between your own lips and his.

Suddenly it seemed like the Shoyo you knew returned to his body as his expression twisted into one of terror — like he hadn’t been aware of his own actions until you so abruptly stopped him.

“What? Pfft, no!” He stressed out, a continuous line of embarrassed excuses following.

You couldn’t think of what else to do than just look at him as he continued to try and explain himself. Not a single ounce of the confidence that was present mere moments ago was to be spotted.

Years — you had known the rambling boy sitting beside you for years, and always fought that little voice in the back of your mind that was so soft for him. Softer than one should be for a friend.

You had just fooled yourself to think that these feelings were normal to have for someone you’d known for so long.

They weren’t.

Because any forced restraints were now broken — not even a single thread holding it together as you dipped your own soft serve towards him, immediately shutting him up when the cool treat made contact with his lips.

“What are you-“

“You got a little something there,” you interrupted him with a low voice before closing your eyes and colliding your lips with his.

Without a single thought — and no hesitation — Shoyo kissed you back, soft and passionate at the same time, just like him.

His free hand came up to capture your jaw, deepening the kiss, pouring years of emotions into it.

The scene that now played out, had occupied a reserved corner of your mind. A secluded and hidden away corner, of course, as just the idea of this ever happening was something you had never dared given attention. Should the fantasy float to the surface, you would just ignore it until a distraction caused the moment to pass.

But there was no smothering any fantasies anymore.

You were actually kissing Shoyo.

It was only the feeling of cold liquid running down your fingers that sadly had you cut the kiss short.

“Shit,” you groaned, “shit, shit, shit-“ repeatedly muttering to yourself, desperately trying to clean yourself up before it became too bad.

Shoyo had other plans.

“Screw the ice cream,” he smiled.

He then knocked it out of your hand, but not before dropping his own — and once again his hands found your jaw so he could guide you closer, securing your lips in a deep kiss once more.

tags (open — link to taglist form) : @megapteraurelia . @loveyislost . @poopooindamouf

©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[araragomennnn]

set up | chapter one

miya atsumu x reader

When the new MSBY Black Jackals's PR head comes to town, you have three rules: stay focused, stay sharp, and stay away from Miya Atsumu. From your worst nightmare at sixteen to Japan’s heartthrob, Atsumu has always attracted trouble. You're here to do your job but unbeknownst to you, the universe has other plans. So when fate sets the ball, will Atsumu be the one to receive it? tags: fluff, angst, enemies to lovers, slow burn, pining, childhood rivals, second chance romance, humour, suggestive themes, explicit smut. notes: 4k words. I'm really excited for this series. I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

series masterlist -> chapter two

The Miya Atsumu that you knew was, without a shadow of a doubt, the most irritating man you had ever met.

He was the jerk who would hold your things above your head and make you jump like an idiot to grab them back. He was the insufferable prick who would chase your dates away, acting like your boyfriend, delivering rehearsed lines that, if you remember correctly, were something along the lines of “ Y/N, who is that?”

“Are ya cheating on me?” with mock hurt trained on his features, you remember the vivid urge you had to slap that pout off his face.

You wholly blame him for your very dry love life in high school.

All things considered, your history with Miya wasn’t the best. He was the kind of guy you'd cross the road to avoid. He was loud and charming, charisma dripped from his every pore, but his actions were coated thick with ego. Everything about him screamed ‘look at me!’, he was a head-turner, you per se were not, deliberately though. Constantly under the spotlight, to be close to him would mean you too would be under the eyes of scrutiny, so you avoided him from your very first day however, unfortunately for you, that’s exactly what drew him closer to you.

He was stubborn and oh so annoying, he’d take your stuff just to get a reaction out of you, blame things on you to get you into trouble with a smirk plastered across his lips the entire time.

You despised him with every fibre of your being.

At sixteen, he made your life a living hell, and unfortunately for you, at twenty five, not much has changed.

It was a long time ago, you had rationalised when you took the job though deep down you had known better, your pay check effectively blinding you.

The pay was good, like good good, enough to make you swallow your distaste for him. Being the head of the MSBY PR team, that was expected. So, why let some old childish bickering stand in the way of you and your bag?

It couldn’t possibly be that bad, you had thought. Awkward? Maybe. But bad? No, right?

Perhaps if he brought up your far from civil past together, you could laugh it off and settle things professionally and politely. No need to worry, right?

Never had you been more wrong.

It’s barely 1 am when the calls and texts start flooding in. You pull the covers over your head, groaning loudly as the vibrating of your phone becomes unignorable. Groggily switching on your lampshade you turn over to pick up your phone and your suspicions are confirmed.

Fucking Miya.

It’s the sixth time this month, paparazzi pictures of Miya at a club with a new girl on his lap in each one, sucking each other’s faces and a firm grip on their ass, have been released.

Every single picture looked like that.

Every single one.

Fully awake now, you sit up and scroll through the pictures, estimating the damage and then you get into action. Notifying those in the team that didn’t already know. Anticipating this, after the second incident, you had drawn out multiple plans and outcomes in advance, and after a couple of hours of calls and emails, most of the evidence of Miya’s late-night endeavours were, for the most of it, gone. The only thing left to do for the night was berating him.

The anger you had suppressed while cleaning his mess, was now taking over. Your breaths became heavier as you stabbed at the call button.

He picked up on the first ring, almost as if he had been waiting.

“Hey sweetheart,” he drawls lazily, you can almost hear him smirking.

“Fucking again Miya? Seriously?” you exclaim, basically seething at this point, might as well take it out on him.

“M sorry babe,” he says, in a tone that gives away exactly how sorry he is. You can almost picture him smirking, lazily sprawled on his bed, still in his clubbing clothes.

“The nicknames are not helping, I will report you to HR,” you say through gritted teeth. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you let out an exhausted sigh. “You are the worst part of my job.”

“C’mon I said I said I was s-” 

You don’t hear what he has to say next because you hang up on him.

“Asshole” you mumble as your eyelids begin to get heavy with exhaustion, slowly drifting you off to your well deserved slumber.

Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

The thing is, Atsumu has been everything but civil to you since you arrived, giving no care to professionalism. It was as if no time had passed, he was still the same annoying, insufferable man child he was in high school.

When you finally took the job, meeting him again in a professional setting in front of a shitload of people, after all these years when you held out your hand to shake his and he brought your knuckles to his lips instead, you instantly knew that he was not going to be making this job easy for you. 

You did not hide your grimace.

Normally, you wouldn’t need to speak to him as much as you do but Miya if anything was an absolute pain in the neck. You were a fool to think he’d let you get away unscathed. Not a week passes without him spending at least an hour in your office, talking your ear off about something that has absolutely nothing to do with why he was called and unfortunately for you today was one of those days.

“Miya, I couldn’t be bothered with who you hook up with, but at least have the decency to do it behind closed doors.”

“Really, because you seemed awfully bothered last night,”

“Because that’s my job, idiot.” You groan, leaning back into your chair, arms folded across your chest.

He flashes his palm in mock defence, rolling his eyes. “Right.”

“I know this is a huge pill for you to swallow, but not everybody you know is in love with you.” 

You find yourself here with him quite often, bickering aimlessly. He absolutely loved getting under your skin.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, sweetheart” he drawls as he leans back into the chair, the fabric of his shirt stretching across his chest.

“What did I say about the nicknames!” you exclaim, palms lightly slamming the table.

 He rolls his eyes, lips upturned slyly, “alright, Y/N”

“That’s L/n to you,” you huff with furrowed brows and squinted eyes.

His face falls for a moment but it’s gone as fast as it came and you contemplate whether you imagined it.

And as if to save you from the impending nightmare that is Miya Atsumu your phone rings in your pocket and you make shooing motions with your hand, signalling for him to get out.

“I need to take this, go annoy someone else.” you state without sparing him a glance.

“Who is it?” he asks, getting off his chair to lean over your desk.

“None of your business, leave.”

“Fine, be like that.” he huffs as he stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jacket, turning on his heels.

You answer the call, a relaxed smile contorting your features, “Hey, yeah we’re still on for tonight.”

That’s all Atsumu hears before he begrudgingly closes the door behind him.

You had a date.

And you were embarrassingly nervous about it, shuffling and trying out variations of outfits in front of the mirror. 

If truth be told, despite being twenty five, you've never had any substantial dating experience from the zero romantic relationships in high school to a college boyfriend you dated simply for the sake of dating. When you were young, you had imagined your love life would look like something akin to what you’d read in all those Shoujo mangas. However, what awaited you in high school was anything but.

If you had to think back to any man that you had an interest in or had an interest in you, you remember how Astumu would go above and beyond to make you look stupid in front of them.

Like that one time.

“Rin-kun..”, you start, standing in the school hallway. Your face feels warm, and your fingers find the hem of your sweater. Suna was cute, quiet and stayed out of trouble and in your sixteen year old head, arguably the perfect match for you. You remember thinking that this is how they do it in the manga, a box of homemade chocolates wrapped in pretty pink ribbon, a note neatly folded inside. 

Suna was looking at you with his head tilted in confusion before you heard footsteps behind him. 

“SUNARIN!” 

The loud shrieking coming from behind Suna makes you jump. That sounds like…-

“Ah, Atsumu,” Suna responds, turning in his direction.

You panic internally, no, no, no, your perfect Shoujo moment!

Atsumu falls next to Suna, throwing an arm around his neck.

“Ah choco!” he exclaims.

“No, wai-” but before your words reach his ears, Atsumu has already ripped the lid of your perfect box off, digging his grubby fingers in and pulling out a fistful of your perfectly made hazelnut homemade chocolates before stuffing them in his mouth.

Your jaw falls in horror.

“Ah, Y/N didn’t know ya made snacks for the class,” Atsumu says through a mouthful.

“Ahh,” Suna hums in realisation to Atsumu’s words. 

“Thanks Y/N,” Suna says, shooting you a small smile and picking a piece before walking off. You watch in horror.

A beat passes.

Atsumu is looking at you smugly, hands in his pockets.

“Miya, you absolute fuc-” 

“You have something in your teeth.”

“Huh? What-” You pull out your hand mirror, flashing your teeth to check. What’s he talking about? Your teeth look fi-  before the realisation falls upon you. 

You angrily snap your mirror shut, “ATSUMU GET BACK HERE!!!”

But he’s already walking away, hands in his pockets, his hearty laughter echoes in the corridor. 

--

Zipping the nth minidress of the night, you checked yourself out in your reflection. Your hands traced the sides of your body, sliding down your curves. You let out a contented sigh as your lips slightly curve at the pretty sight. This is the one.

You don’t know why you were putting all this effort into a Tinder date with a half-handsome, half-  okay guy you’d barely spoken to. If truth be told, you can’t remember the last time you’d been to dinner with a man or the last time you put this much effort into your appearance. You lean into the mirror, assessing your features with squinted eyes. Your makeup was done well, mascara perfectly applied, such that there were no remnants smudged on your lids, your base was flawless, and to finish the look, you’d swiped on your favourite lip combo. You smile at the mirror and wonder when the last time you did something like this in your off time was.

Your thoughts were cut short by the frantic ringing of your doorbell.

“Coming!” you half shriek. Much to your annoyance, the constant ringing does not stop, “Jesus fucking christ, I said I was coming.”

Swinging the door open, you immediately slam it shut, but to no avail as Atsumu stops you from doing so with his foot.

“Why are you here?”

“Well, hello to ya too,” he pouts, brows knit together as if he wasn’t expecting you to slam the door in his face.

You glare at him, huffing as you try to shut the door despite his foot still blocking the way. Curse his pro athlete strength.

“Yer wasting yer energy.”

You let out a defeated sigh and look up at him wearily, “Why are you here Miya?”

He waves a bouquet of tulips in front of your face, “to apologise to ya” he huffs.

You blink, there’s a beat of silence. “Obviously” he mumbles, scratching his neck sheepishly.

You snort, “By punishing me?”

“Oh ha ha, yer so hilarious” he deadpans and your lips momentarily curve into a smirk.

He nudges the door open with his foot and slides in, you scowl, “I wasn’t even going to let you in.”

“Yeah, that’s why I let myself in.” 

Psychically restraining yourself from punching him in the face, you shut the door behind you with a sigh.

“How did you even get my address?”

He ignores your question and shoves the bouquet into your hands, “m sorry for makin yer job harder for you, considering yer new and all”

“So you apologise by barging into my home and giving me something that attracts insects?” you deadpan, quirking a brow.

But you have a feeling that he isn’t listening as you watch his eyes trace your figure, drinking you up like your his, his adam’s apple bobs and you swear he just gulped.

“Take a picture, it'll last longer.”

Atsumu perks up, eyes wide, and you bite back a triumphant smile.

“Maybe I will,” he responds slyly.

You scoff, rolling your eyes.

“What ya all dolled up for?” he asks all while shamelessly eyeing you. Curse this man.

“A date, so if you would please leave,” you reply, gesturing towards the door.

His smirk, for the first time in a long time, drops. Any signs of joking, completely gone. 

His face is solemn as he asks, “With whom?”

“Just some guy I met on Tinder” you shrug, “now why are you asking me this?”

His gaze that you were indifferent to, bore into you with a foreign expression; it took everything in you not to squirm. “Don’t go.”

“What?”

“Don’t go”, he repeats like it’s the most obvious thing ever.

“Now, why would I do that?” 

“Where is he takin ya?” he asks, ignoring your previous inquiry.

“And I should tell you because…?”

“Because it’d make you 20,000 yen richer.”

“That Italian place a couple of blocks from here,” you respond.

He scowls, “That dump?”

You roll your eyes and scoff at his audacity, “Oh I’m sorry we’re all not pro athletes that earn 6 figures,” slumping against the door, “now would you please just leave?” you groan.

“How about I take ya out instead, as an extended apology, of course”, he proposes.

“How about no?”.

He rolls his eyes, hands propped on his hips, “You are one stubborn woman, ya know?”

“Are you really saying that after inviting yourself over to my place?” you hiss.

He scrunches up his nose and reluctantly responds, “touché.”

“Anyways,” he continues, “what if I took ya to that Michelin star restaurant ya wouldn’t shut up about in high school? Everything on me, of course”

You blink, the proposal hangs in the air for a bit and Atsumu gets visibly nervous.

“You remember?”

“Yeah,” he replies, avoiding eye contact.

Oh, you think.

“Oh,” you say.

You almost smiled, and then you remembered who the person in front of you was again.

“What’s the catch?”

“Jesus, give me some credit for fucks sake”

“Our past makes this very unconvincing” You scrutinise every muscle on his face, searching for a giveaway.

Finding nothing but an annoying pout that you don’t want to look at anymore, your expression relaxes a bit as you weigh the pros and cons of agreeing to go out with him.

Pros

Free food

Free good food 

Free good food at your favourite place of all time.

Cons

Atsumu’s yapping

Atsumu

Maybe you could reschedule with the Tinder guy? You turn his proposal over in your head. Atsumu's apologising is uncanny and considering he went out of his way to make it up to you,

you sigh. 

He smiles genuinely; you almost die of shock.

 “Give me five minutes to finish my makeup.” 

It’s been years since you’ve been alone with Atsumu, putting aside the time spent at work where you breezed through the banter, often yelling profanities at each other. 

More accurately, it’s been years since you’ve been alone with Atsumu willingly. 

You can feel his gaze flicker between you and the road every couple of seconds, “What?” you ask, tilting your head away from the window to look at him. 

“Nothing”, he responds a touch too fast.

You eye him suspiciously before returning your gaze to the passing scenery, the gears begin to turn in your head.

You saw this coming. 

Of course, Atsumu has never been this kind.

He pulls out your chair for you, you cock your brow questioningly, and he shrugs.

You watch him as he scans the menu, so he’s waiting for you to order, huh?

How despicable.

You picked what you wanted and he signalled for the waiter, giving your order as well as his. 

“Oh an’ no walnuts please, she’s allergic”

The waiter bows and takes their leave. You blink at him, he gives you a puzzled look, “What?”

“How did you know that?”

“That yer allergic?” you nod and he continues, “Well, you would avoid them like the plague in high school,”

You raise your eyebrows, signalling for him to continue.

“And I remember at our graduation party, you asked someone if there were walnuts in the brownies and later came back from yer ‘bathroom break’ lookin really pale.” He finishes and the last few words come out quieter than the rest.

Your mouth hangs ajar. “You noticed all of that?”

“Yeah”, he replies in a voice softer than you remember, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

For the first time in what seems like forever, you were dumbfounded.

“Oh, um”, you try to reply with something sarcastic or witty like you usually do, but your chest felt weird, and his words were all you could think about.

As if to spare you from any upcoming embarrassment, the food arrived. It should be any moment now.

You carefully swallow down the first spoon, and as anticipated, he’s looking straight at you, elbows propped on the table, fingers interlaced.

He’s so obvious you might laugh.

 “So about the msby anniversary gala, my date cancelled and I was hoping that you’d come as my date instead”

“Huh”

Did you hear him right?

“See, before you get mad at me for lying, in my defence-”

“That’s the catch?” you exclaim, “There is no way that this is equivalent exchange, I was not expecting that-”

“Expecting? Wait, ya knew?”  he asks, confused, shocked and slightly impressed.

“I’ve had the unfortunate experience of knowing you in high school, and I’m sorry, but your tells are so very obvious.”

“They are not!” he exclaims, childishly pouting. 

“You are a man of ulterior motives!” you exclaim, pointing a finger at him.

“Oh shut yer trap,”

You roll your eyes, “whatever, I’m not going as your date’s stand-in”

“Oh come on, please okay, I’ll ask nicely,” he whines,

“No,” a moment passes with him looking at you with an uncharacteristically pleading look in his eyes. 

You scowl, “Is there nobody else you can bother with this?”

“If there was, do ya think I woulda come to ya?” he huffs as he folds his arms across his chest.

You should have left when you had the chance, you thought to yourself. “You must be desperate.”

He grits his teeth and looks away,

 “If I were to say yes” you continue, he whips his head in your direction, eyes wide, “What’s in it for me?”

“I’ll leave you alone for a month..?” Atsumu proposes, unsurely shrugging his shoulders.

You click your tongue. 

“Okay, okay,” he eases you, flashing his palms nervously. 

“Name your price, anything.”

“Anything?” you inquire with a very concerning look in your eyes and a devilish grin on your lips. 

Atsumu swallows in fear. Is it too late for takebacks?

“Until the gala, you have to do whatever I tell you. No questions. No complaints. You’re officially at my mercy, then I’ll come with you.”

Atsumu clicks his tongue, eyebrows scrunched. He grins devilishly, “I’m game.”

He interlaces his fingers and with his elbows on the table, he leans in, bordering your personal space.

“Try to make it worth my while.”

This man. 

You feel irritation prick your skin. His golden orbs bored into you with his face mere inches away as you held his gaze in contempt. Releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding, when he finally leaned back into his seat, propping his arms on both armrests, manspreading. 

Stupid indifference tugging at his features.

You clear your throat.

 “Anyways, I don’t have a dress-”

“That’s not a problem, I’ll buy ya one,” he says nonchalantly.

Your eyebrows shoot up, “ I’ll take ya shopping”

“That’s not nece-”

“No”, he places a finger flat on your lips, and you blink in surprise. 

You reach to swat his arm away, but he catches your wrist and lays your hand gently on the table, looking you straight in the eye with his standard shit-eating grin. You scowl.

—

Leaning against his sports car, he watched you as you began to retreat into your apartment complex.

“No goodbye kiss?” he taunts with a mock pout. 

“Sure.” You shrug, completely indifferent. 

You snicker inwardly, he’s not the only one who knows how to get under somebody’s skin.

His eyebrows shoot up, orbs blown wide. “Wh-what?” he stammered. The moonlight catches in his hair, the mixed light from the lamp posts and moonlight reflecting off his car. His hands are shoved in his trouser pockets, and he looks as if he’s gone into cardiac arrest.

You shove down the urge to take a picture for blackmail purposes. 

You gingerly place a hand on his cheek, he stiffens under your touch but makes no move to brush it off, tentatively leaning in, his gaze flickers between your eyes and lips, and for a reason unbeknownst to you, heat rushes to your cheeks.

You’re close enough to see the tinge of red that has spread across his cheeks, and just as you think his eyes are about to flutter shut, you smirk.

You pinch his cheek, and he lets out an indignant yelp.

You howl, head thrown back in laughter, and though it’s at his expense, it’s bright and captivating. He swats your hand off his cheek and rubs at the sore patch of skin, “You are so fucking annoying”, he mumbles, rubbing his temples with his pointer finger and thumb.

“Aw, did you actually think I was going to kiss you?” you tease, and for a moment something akin to hurt washes over his features, you blink, and then it’s gone.

In a flash, his hand is right in front of your face, and he flicks your forehead. You jolt back, bringing your hands up to soothe the burning of your skin. You scowl at him. He smirks. “Whatever, now fuck off.”

You roll your eyes, “gladly.”

The following week flies by with you knee deep in deadlines and paperwork. Atsumu managed to stay out of trouble ever since the incident, and though begrudgingly, you had to give credit where it was due. For reasons you couldn’t pin down, you found your mind going back to the intensity of Miya’s gaze as you leaned in, how his lips were parted slightly in anticipation and what would have happened if you had closed the distance. Your mind wandered without your consent to the possibilities and outcomes, if his lips were just as soft as they looked, what his hands would feel like if they were wrapped around your waist or even better, your ne -. 

You mentally slap yourself and push these nauseating thoughts down, your heated face in your hands, accompanied by an accelerated heart rate. What the fuck.

series taglist (comment to be added): @isaisio , @shooketh-h0e , @fweakygyatt , @animebabe19 , @anahid23285 , @mean-mandyy , @bakingcuriosity , @timeskipkenma , @nnchiichii , @that-lady ,@mon-cherries , @kryzi , @followingmysunsposts ,@kokoiinuts ,@kokoiinuts , @wh3reforangst ,@ccllaaiirreeeee , @homeslices , @sillypenguinangel , @itsclda , @casua11ycrying , @anshika111 , @sophiahearttss , @xyyyulat , @01heyheyhey

[araragomennnn]

SET UP

When the new PR head of the MSBY Black Jackals comes to town, she has three rules: Stay focused. Stay sharp. And stay the hell away from Miya Atsumu. From your worst nightmare at sixteen to Japan’s heartthrob on the court, Miya Atsumu has always attracted trouble. But when the Black Jackals offer a paycheck too good to ignore, you bury the past and all the unpicked bones with it. You are here to do your job, not get distracted by the smug setter with a smirk that time hasn't changed. You want nothing to do with him but unfortunately, he does not feel the same. So, when fate sets the ball... will Miya be the one to receive it?

pairing: atsumu x fem! reader

tags: fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, pining, childhood rivals, workplace romance, second chance romance, humour, explicit smut.

chapter 1 + chapter 2 + chapter 3 + chapter 4 + ongoing.

comment to be added to the taglist!

[araragomennnn]

set up | chapter one

miya atsumu x reader

When the new MSBY Black Jackals's PR head comes to town, you have three rules: stay focused, stay sharp, and stay away from Miya Atsumu. From your worst nightmare at sixteen to Japan’s heartthrob, Atsumu has always attracted trouble. You're here to do your job but unbeknownst to you, the universe has other plans. So when fate sets the ball, will Atsumu be the one to receive it? tags: fluff, angst, enemies to lovers, slow burn, pining, childhood rivals, second chance romance, humour, suggestive themes, explicit smut. notes: 4k words. I'm really excited for this series. I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

series masterlist -> chapter two

The Miya Atsumu that you knew was, without a shadow of a doubt, the most irritating man you had ever met.

He was the jerk who would hold your things above your head and make you jump like an idiot to grab them back. He was the insufferable prick who would chase your dates away, acting like your boyfriend, delivering rehearsed lines that, if you remember correctly, were something along the lines of “ Y/N, who is that?”

“Are ya cheating on me?” with mock hurt trained on his features, you remember the vivid urge you had to slap that pout off his face.

You wholly blame him for your very dry love life in high school.

All things considered, your history with Miya wasn’t the best. He was the kind of guy you'd cross the road to avoid. He was loud and charming, charisma dripped from his every pore, but his actions were coated thick with ego. Everything about him screamed ‘look at me!’, he was a head-turner, you per se were not, deliberately though. Constantly under the spotlight, to be close to him would mean you too would be under the eyes of scrutiny, so you avoided him from your very first day however, unfortunately for you, that’s exactly what drew him closer to you.

He was stubborn and oh so annoying, he’d take your stuff just to get a reaction out of you, blame things on you to get you into trouble with a smirk plastered across his lips the entire time.

You despised him with every fibre of your being.

At sixteen, he made your life a living hell, and unfortunately for you, at twenty five, not much has changed.

It was a long time ago, you had rationalised when you took the job though deep down you had known better, your pay check effectively blinding you.

The pay was good, like good good, enough to make you swallow your distaste for him. Being the head of the MSBY PR team, that was expected. So, why let some old childish bickering stand in the way of you and your bag?

It couldn’t possibly be that bad, you had thought. Awkward? Maybe. But bad? No, right?

Perhaps if he brought up your far from civil past together, you could laugh it off and settle things professionally and politely. No need to worry, right?

Never had you been more wrong.

It’s barely 1 am when the calls and texts start flooding in. You pull the covers over your head, groaning loudly as the vibrating of your phone becomes unignorable. Groggily switching on your lampshade you turn over to pick up your phone and your suspicions are confirmed.

Fucking Miya.

It’s the sixth time this month, paparazzi pictures of Miya at a club with a new girl on his lap in each one, sucking each other’s faces and a firm grip on their ass, have been released.

Every single picture looked like that.

Every single one.

Fully awake now, you sit up and scroll through the pictures, estimating the damage and then you get into action. Notifying those in the team that didn’t already know. Anticipating this, after the second incident, you had drawn out multiple plans and outcomes in advance, and after a couple of hours of calls and emails, most of the evidence of Miya’s late-night endeavours were, for the most of it, gone. The only thing left to do for the night was berating him.

The anger you had suppressed while cleaning his mess, was now taking over. Your breaths became heavier as you stabbed at the call button.

He picked up on the first ring, almost as if he had been waiting.

“Hey sweetheart,” he drawls lazily, you can almost hear him smirking.

“Fucking again Miya? Seriously?” you exclaim, basically seething at this point, might as well take it out on him.

“M sorry babe,” he says, in a tone that gives away exactly how sorry he is. You can almost picture him smirking, lazily sprawled on his bed, still in his clubbing clothes.

“The nicknames are not helping, I will report you to HR,” you say through gritted teeth. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you let out an exhausted sigh. “You are the worst part of my job.”

“C’mon I said I said I was s-” 

You don’t hear what he has to say next because you hang up on him.

“Asshole” you mumble as your eyelids begin to get heavy with exhaustion, slowly drifting you off to your well deserved slumber.

Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

The thing is, Atsumu has been everything but civil to you since you arrived, giving no care to professionalism. It was as if no time had passed, he was still the same annoying, insufferable man child he was in high school.

When you finally took the job, meeting him again in a professional setting in front of a shitload of people, after all these years when you held out your hand to shake his and he brought your knuckles to his lips instead, you instantly knew that he was not going to be making this job easy for you. 

You did not hide your grimace.

Normally, you wouldn’t need to speak to him as much as you do but Miya if anything was an absolute pain in the neck. You were a fool to think he’d let you get away unscathed. Not a week passes without him spending at least an hour in your office, talking your ear off about something that has absolutely nothing to do with why he was called and unfortunately for you today was one of those days.

“Miya, I couldn’t be bothered with who you hook up with, but at least have the decency to do it behind closed doors.”

“Really, because you seemed awfully bothered last night,”

“Because that’s my job, idiot.” You groan, leaning back into your chair, arms folded across your chest.

He flashes his palm in mock defence, rolling his eyes. “Right.”

“I know this is a huge pill for you to swallow, but not everybody you know is in love with you.” 

You find yourself here with him quite often, bickering aimlessly. He absolutely loved getting under your skin.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, sweetheart” he drawls as he leans back into the chair, the fabric of his shirt stretching across his chest.

“What did I say about the nicknames!” you exclaim, palms lightly slamming the table.

 He rolls his eyes, lips upturned slyly, “alright, Y/N”

“That’s L/n to you,” you huff with furrowed brows and squinted eyes.

His face falls for a moment but it’s gone as fast as it came and you contemplate whether you imagined it.

And as if to save you from the impending nightmare that is Miya Atsumu your phone rings in your pocket and you make shooing motions with your hand, signalling for him to get out.

“I need to take this, go annoy someone else.” you state without sparing him a glance.

“Who is it?” he asks, getting off his chair to lean over your desk.

“None of your business, leave.”

“Fine, be like that.” he huffs as he stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jacket, turning on his heels.

You answer the call, a relaxed smile contorting your features, “Hey, yeah we’re still on for tonight.”

That’s all Atsumu hears before he begrudgingly closes the door behind him.

You had a date.

And you were embarrassingly nervous about it, shuffling and trying out variations of outfits in front of the mirror. 

If truth be told, despite being twenty five, you've never had any substantial dating experience from the zero romantic relationships in high school to a college boyfriend you dated simply for the sake of dating. When you were young, you had imagined your love life would look like something akin to what you’d read in all those Shoujo mangas. However, what awaited you in high school was anything but.

If you had to think back to any man that you had an interest in or had an interest in you, you remember how Astumu would go above and beyond to make you look stupid in front of them.

Like that one time.

“Rin-kun..”, you start, standing in the school hallway. Your face feels warm, and your fingers find the hem of your sweater. Suna was cute, quiet and stayed out of trouble and in your sixteen year old head, arguably the perfect match for you. You remember thinking that this is how they do it in the manga, a box of homemade chocolates wrapped in pretty pink ribbon, a note neatly folded inside. 

Suna was looking at you with his head tilted in confusion before you heard footsteps behind him. 

“SUNARIN!” 

The loud shrieking coming from behind Suna makes you jump. That sounds like…-

“Ah, Atsumu,” Suna responds, turning in his direction.

You panic internally, no, no, no, your perfect Shoujo moment!

Atsumu falls next to Suna, throwing an arm around his neck.

“Ah choco!” he exclaims.

“No, wai-” but before your words reach his ears, Atsumu has already ripped the lid of your perfect box off, digging his grubby fingers in and pulling out a fistful of your perfectly made hazelnut homemade chocolates before stuffing them in his mouth.

Your jaw falls in horror.

“Ah, Y/N didn’t know ya made snacks for the class,” Atsumu says through a mouthful.

“Ahh,” Suna hums in realisation to Atsumu’s words. 

“Thanks Y/N,” Suna says, shooting you a small smile and picking a piece before walking off. You watch in horror.

A beat passes.

Atsumu is looking at you smugly, hands in his pockets.

“Miya, you absolute fuc-” 

“You have something in your teeth.”

“Huh? What-” You pull out your hand mirror, flashing your teeth to check. What’s he talking about? Your teeth look fi-  before the realisation falls upon you. 

You angrily snap your mirror shut, “ATSUMU GET BACK HERE!!!”

But he’s already walking away, hands in his pockets, his hearty laughter echoes in the corridor. 

--

Zipping the nth minidress of the night, you checked yourself out in your reflection. Your hands traced the sides of your body, sliding down your curves. You let out a contented sigh as your lips slightly curve at the pretty sight. This is the one.

You don’t know why you were putting all this effort into a Tinder date with a half-handsome, half-  okay guy you’d barely spoken to. If truth be told, you can’t remember the last time you’d been to dinner with a man or the last time you put this much effort into your appearance. You lean into the mirror, assessing your features with squinted eyes. Your makeup was done well, mascara perfectly applied, such that there were no remnants smudged on your lids, your base was flawless, and to finish the look, you’d swiped on your favourite lip combo. You smile at the mirror and wonder when the last time you did something like this in your off time was.

Your thoughts were cut short by the frantic ringing of your doorbell.

“Coming!” you half shriek. Much to your annoyance, the constant ringing does not stop, “Jesus fucking christ, I said I was coming.”

Swinging the door open, you immediately slam it shut, but to no avail as Atsumu stops you from doing so with his foot.

“Why are you here?”

“Well, hello to ya too,” he pouts, brows knit together as if he wasn’t expecting you to slam the door in his face.

You glare at him, huffing as you try to shut the door despite his foot still blocking the way. Curse his pro athlete strength.

“Yer wasting yer energy.”

You let out a defeated sigh and look up at him wearily, “Why are you here Miya?”

He waves a bouquet of tulips in front of your face, “to apologise to ya” he huffs.

You blink, there’s a beat of silence. “Obviously” he mumbles, scratching his neck sheepishly.

You snort, “By punishing me?”

“Oh ha ha, yer so hilarious” he deadpans and your lips momentarily curve into a smirk.

He nudges the door open with his foot and slides in, you scowl, “I wasn’t even going to let you in.”

“Yeah, that’s why I let myself in.” 

Psychically restraining yourself from punching him in the face, you shut the door behind you with a sigh.

“How did you even get my address?”

He ignores your question and shoves the bouquet into your hands, “m sorry for makin yer job harder for you, considering yer new and all”

“So you apologise by barging into my home and giving me something that attracts insects?” you deadpan, quirking a brow.

But you have a feeling that he isn’t listening as you watch his eyes trace your figure, drinking you up like your his, his adam’s apple bobs and you swear he just gulped.

“Take a picture, it'll last longer.”

Atsumu perks up, eyes wide, and you bite back a triumphant smile.

“Maybe I will,” he responds slyly.

You scoff, rolling your eyes.

“What ya all dolled up for?” he asks all while shamelessly eyeing you. Curse this man.

“A date, so if you would please leave,” you reply, gesturing towards the door.

His smirk, for the first time in a long time, drops. Any signs of joking, completely gone. 

His face is solemn as he asks, “With whom?”

“Just some guy I met on Tinder” you shrug, “now why are you asking me this?”

His gaze that you were indifferent to, bore into you with a foreign expression; it took everything in you not to squirm. “Don’t go.”

“What?”

“Don’t go”, he repeats like it’s the most obvious thing ever.

“Now, why would I do that?” 

“Where is he takin ya?” he asks, ignoring your previous inquiry.

“And I should tell you because…?”

“Because it’d make you 20,000 yen richer.”

“That Italian place a couple of blocks from here,” you respond.

He scowls, “That dump?”

You roll your eyes and scoff at his audacity, “Oh I’m sorry we’re all not pro athletes that earn 6 figures,” slumping against the door, “now would you please just leave?” you groan.

“How about I take ya out instead, as an extended apology, of course”, he proposes.

“How about no?”.

He rolls his eyes, hands propped on his hips, “You are one stubborn woman, ya know?”

“Are you really saying that after inviting yourself over to my place?” you hiss.

He scrunches up his nose and reluctantly responds, “touché.”

“Anyways,” he continues, “what if I took ya to that Michelin star restaurant ya wouldn’t shut up about in high school? Everything on me, of course”

You blink, the proposal hangs in the air for a bit and Atsumu gets visibly nervous.

“You remember?”

“Yeah,” he replies, avoiding eye contact.

Oh, you think.

“Oh,” you say.

You almost smiled, and then you remembered who the person in front of you was again.

“What’s the catch?”

“Jesus, give me some credit for fucks sake”

“Our past makes this very unconvincing” You scrutinise every muscle on his face, searching for a giveaway.

Finding nothing but an annoying pout that you don’t want to look at anymore, your expression relaxes a bit as you weigh the pros and cons of agreeing to go out with him.

Pros

Free food

Free good food 

Free good food at your favourite place of all time.

Cons

Atsumu’s yapping

Atsumu

Maybe you could reschedule with the Tinder guy? You turn his proposal over in your head. Atsumu's apologising is uncanny and considering he went out of his way to make it up to you,

you sigh. 

He smiles genuinely; you almost die of shock.

 “Give me five minutes to finish my makeup.” 

It’s been years since you’ve been alone with Atsumu, putting aside the time spent at work where you breezed through the banter, often yelling profanities at each other. 

More accurately, it’s been years since you’ve been alone with Atsumu willingly. 

You can feel his gaze flicker between you and the road every couple of seconds, “What?” you ask, tilting your head away from the window to look at him. 

“Nothing”, he responds a touch too fast.

You eye him suspiciously before returning your gaze to the passing scenery, the gears begin to turn in your head.

You saw this coming. 

Of course, Atsumu has never been this kind.

He pulls out your chair for you, you cock your brow questioningly, and he shrugs.

You watch him as he scans the menu, so he’s waiting for you to order, huh?

How despicable.

You picked what you wanted and he signalled for the waiter, giving your order as well as his. 

“Oh an’ no walnuts please, she’s allergic”

The waiter bows and takes their leave. You blink at him, he gives you a puzzled look, “What?”

“How did you know that?”

“That yer allergic?” you nod and he continues, “Well, you would avoid them like the plague in high school,”

You raise your eyebrows, signalling for him to continue.

“And I remember at our graduation party, you asked someone if there were walnuts in the brownies and later came back from yer ‘bathroom break’ lookin really pale.” He finishes and the last few words come out quieter than the rest.

Your mouth hangs ajar. “You noticed all of that?”

“Yeah”, he replies in a voice softer than you remember, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

For the first time in what seems like forever, you were dumbfounded.

“Oh, um”, you try to reply with something sarcastic or witty like you usually do, but your chest felt weird, and his words were all you could think about.

As if to spare you from any upcoming embarrassment, the food arrived. It should be any moment now.

You carefully swallow down the first spoon, and as anticipated, he’s looking straight at you, elbows propped on the table, fingers interlaced.

He’s so obvious you might laugh.

 “So about the msby anniversary gala, my date cancelled and I was hoping that you’d come as my date instead”

“Huh”

Did you hear him right?

“See, before you get mad at me for lying, in my defence-”

“That’s the catch?” you exclaim, “There is no way that this is equivalent exchange, I was not expecting that-”

“Expecting? Wait, ya knew?”  he asks, confused, shocked and slightly impressed.

“I’ve had the unfortunate experience of knowing you in high school, and I’m sorry, but your tells are so very obvious.”

“They are not!” he exclaims, childishly pouting. 

“You are a man of ulterior motives!” you exclaim, pointing a finger at him.

“Oh shut yer trap,”

You roll your eyes, “whatever, I’m not going as your date’s stand-in”

“Oh come on, please okay, I’ll ask nicely,” he whines,

“No,” a moment passes with him looking at you with an uncharacteristically pleading look in his eyes. 

You scowl, “Is there nobody else you can bother with this?”

“If there was, do ya think I woulda come to ya?” he huffs as he folds his arms across his chest.

You should have left when you had the chance, you thought to yourself. “You must be desperate.”

He grits his teeth and looks away,

 “If I were to say yes” you continue, he whips his head in your direction, eyes wide, “What’s in it for me?”

“I’ll leave you alone for a month..?” Atsumu proposes, unsurely shrugging his shoulders.

You click your tongue. 

“Okay, okay,” he eases you, flashing his palms nervously. 

“Name your price, anything.”

“Anything?” you inquire with a very concerning look in your eyes and a devilish grin on your lips. 

Atsumu swallows in fear. Is it too late for takebacks?

“Until the gala, you have to do whatever I tell you. No questions. No complaints. You’re officially at my mercy, then I’ll come with you.”

Atsumu clicks his tongue, eyebrows scrunched. He grins devilishly, “I’m game.”

He interlaces his fingers and with his elbows on the table, he leans in, bordering your personal space.

“Try to make it worth my while.”

This man. 

You feel irritation prick your skin. His golden orbs bored into you with his face mere inches away as you held his gaze in contempt. Releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding, when he finally leaned back into his seat, propping his arms on both armrests, manspreading. 

Stupid indifference tugging at his features.

You clear your throat.

 “Anyways, I don’t have a dress-”

“That’s not a problem, I’ll buy ya one,” he says nonchalantly.

Your eyebrows shoot up, “ I’ll take ya shopping”

“That’s not nece-”

“No”, he places a finger flat on your lips, and you blink in surprise. 

You reach to swat his arm away, but he catches your wrist and lays your hand gently on the table, looking you straight in the eye with his standard shit-eating grin. You scowl.

—

Leaning against his sports car, he watched you as you began to retreat into your apartment complex.

“No goodbye kiss?” he taunts with a mock pout. 

“Sure.” You shrug, completely indifferent. 

You snicker inwardly, he’s not the only one who knows how to get under somebody’s skin.

His eyebrows shoot up, orbs blown wide. “Wh-what?” he stammered. The moonlight catches in his hair, the mixed light from the lamp posts and moonlight reflecting off his car. His hands are shoved in his trouser pockets, and he looks as if he’s gone into cardiac arrest.

You shove down the urge to take a picture for blackmail purposes. 

You gingerly place a hand on his cheek, he stiffens under your touch but makes no move to brush it off, tentatively leaning in, his gaze flickers between your eyes and lips, and for a reason unbeknownst to you, heat rushes to your cheeks.

You’re close enough to see the tinge of red that has spread across his cheeks, and just as you think his eyes are about to flutter shut, you smirk.

You pinch his cheek, and he lets out an indignant yelp.

You howl, head thrown back in laughter, and though it’s at his expense, it’s bright and captivating. He swats your hand off his cheek and rubs at the sore patch of skin, “You are so fucking annoying”, he mumbles, rubbing his temples with his pointer finger and thumb.

“Aw, did you actually think I was going to kiss you?” you tease, and for a moment something akin to hurt washes over his features, you blink, and then it’s gone.

In a flash, his hand is right in front of your face, and he flicks your forehead. You jolt back, bringing your hands up to soothe the burning of your skin. You scowl at him. He smirks. “Whatever, now fuck off.”

You roll your eyes, “gladly.”

The following week flies by with you knee deep in deadlines and paperwork. Atsumu managed to stay out of trouble ever since the incident, and though begrudgingly, you had to give credit where it was due. For reasons you couldn’t pin down, you found your mind going back to the intensity of Miya’s gaze as you leaned in, how his lips were parted slightly in anticipation and what would have happened if you had closed the distance. Your mind wandered without your consent to the possibilities and outcomes, if his lips were just as soft as they looked, what his hands would feel like if they were wrapped around your waist or even better, your ne -. 

You mentally slap yourself and push these nauseating thoughts down, your heated face in your hands, accompanied by an accelerated heart rate. What the fuck.

series taglist (comment to be added): @isaisio , @shooketh-h0e , @fweakygyatt , @animebabe19 , @anahid23285 , @mean-mandyy , @bakingcuriosity , @timeskipkenma , @nnchiichii , @that-lady ,@mon-cherries , @kryzi , @followingmysunsposts ,@kokoiinuts ,@kokoiinuts , @wh3reforangst ,@ccllaaiirreeeee , @homeslices , @sillypenguinangel , @itsclda , @casua11ycrying , @anshika111 , @sophiahearttss , @xyyyulat , @01heyheyhey

[araragomennnn]

about me ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

hi i'm ren! I she/her I intj I twenty

kins: gojo, akaashi, killua, annie, osamu.

likes: art, long walks, makeup, pretty things, the enemies to lovers trope.

dislikes: inconsiderate people, dumb men, no down time:(

I really appreciate any and all interactions on my works!! It's really motivating and pushes me to write and release more on this platform<3 (every now and then someone leaves a really long comment of their thoughts on one of my pieces and it makes my day!)

byf/rules:

this is a nsfw blog so mdni!!!

haikyuu & jjk blog only.

feel free to reach out to me via inbox anytime!! (I love speaking to my readers)

this is a character x reader blog and I'll only take requests pertaining the same

[araragomennnn]

SET UP

When the new PR head of the MSBY Black Jackals comes to town, she has three rules: Stay focused. Stay sharp. And stay the hell away from Miya Atsumu. From your worst nightmare at sixteen to Japan’s heartthrob on the court, Miya Atsumu has always attracted trouble. But when the Black Jackals offer a paycheck too good to ignore, you bury the past and all the unpicked bones with it. You are here to do your job, not get distracted by the smug setter with a smirk that time hasn't changed. You want nothing to do with him but unfortunately, he does not feel the same. So, when fate sets the ball... will Miya be the one to receive it?

pairing: atsumu x fem! reader

tags: fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, pining, childhood rivals, workplace romance, second chance romance, humour, explicit smut.

chapter 1 + chapter 2 + chapter 3 + chapter 4 + chapter 5 + chapter 6 + chapter 7 + ongoing.

comment to be added to the taglist!

[araragomennnn]

SET UP

When the new PR head of the MSBY Black Jackals comes to town, she has three rules: Stay focused. Stay sharp. And stay the hell away from Miya Atsumu. From your worst nightmare at sixteen to Japan’s heartthrob on the court, Miya Atsumu has always attracted trouble. But when the Black Jackals offer a paycheck too good to ignore, you bury the past and all the unpicked bones with it. You are here to do your job, not get distracted by the smug setter with a smirk that time hasn't changed. You want nothing to do with him but unfortunately, he does not feel the same. So, when fate sets the ball... will Miya be the one to receive it?

pairing: atsumu x fem! reader

tags: fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, pining, childhood rivals, workplace romance, second chance romance, humour, explicit smut.

chapter 1 + chapter 2 + chapter 3 + chapter 4 + chapter 5 + chapter 6 + chapter 7 + ongoing.

comment to be added to the taglist!

[araragomennnn]

this site needs more shy!iwa content

[araragomennnn]

SET UP

When the new PR head of the MSBY Black Jackals comes to town, she has three rules: Stay focused. Stay sharp. And stay the hell away from Miya Atsumu. From your worst nightmare at sixteen to Japan’s heartthrob on the court, Miya Atsumu has always attracted trouble. But when the Black Jackals offer a paycheck too good to ignore, you bury the past and all the unpicked bones with it. You are here to do your job, not get distracted by the smug setter with a smirk that time hasn't changed. You want nothing to do with him but unfortunately, he does not feel the same. So, when fate sets the ball... will Miya be the one to receive it?

pairing: atsumu x fem! reader

tags: fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, pining, childhood rivals, workplace romance, second chance romance, humour, explicit smut.

chapter 1 + chapter 2 + chapter 3 + chapter 4 + chapter 5 + chapter 6 + chapter 7 + ongoing.

comment to be added to the taglist!

[araragomennnn]

SET UP

When the new PR head of the MSBY Black Jackals comes to town, she has three rules: Stay focused. Stay sharp. And stay the hell away from Miya Atsumu. From your worst nightmare at sixteen to Japan’s heartthrob on the court, Miya Atsumu has always attracted trouble. But when the Black Jackals offer a paycheck too good to ignore, you bury the past and all the unpicked bones with it. You are here to do your job, not get distracted by the smug setter with a smirk that time hasn't changed. You want nothing to do with him but unfortunately, he does not feel the same. So, when fate sets the ball... will Miya be the one to receive it?

pairing: atsumu x fem! reader

tags: fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, pining, childhood rivals, workplace romance, second chance romance, humour, explicit smut.

chapter 1 + chapter 2 + chapter 3 + chapter 4 + chapter 5 + chapter 6 + chapter 7 + ongoing.

comment to be added to the taglist!

[araragomennnn]

SET UP

When the new PR head of the MSBY Black Jackals comes to town, she has three rules: Stay focused. Stay sharp. And stay the hell away from Miya Atsumu. From your worst nightmare at sixteen to Japan’s heartthrob on the court, Miya Atsumu has always attracted trouble. But when the Black Jackals offer a paycheck too good to ignore, you bury the past and all the unpicked bones with it. You are here to do your job, not get distracted by the smug setter with a smirk that time hasn't changed. You want nothing to do with him but unfortunately, he does not feel the same. So, when fate sets the ball... will Miya be the one to receive it?

pairing: atsumu x fem! reader

tags: fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, pining, childhood rivals, workplace romance, second chance romance, humour, explicit smut.

chapter 1 + chapter 2 + chapter 3 + chapter 4 + ongoing.

comment to be added to the taglist!

[araragomennnn]

ALL IN - KUROO

sum: bored at a party. kuroo offers to play you a game of cards, except playing this game comes with a naughty twist. ft: kuroo x fem!reader cw: smut, fluff, oral (giving & receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, cream pie, praise<3

“Bluff,”

You reach for the pair of threes Kuroo claimed to put down, turning them over.

A jack and four of diamonds. Your lips curve in a sly smirk as you look at him from under your lashes because this wasn’t your regular game of cards.

He inhales deeply before biting at his lower lip, “well,” he sighs voice octaves lower than you remembered before reaching for the buttons of his jeans and undoing them, tossing the discarded piece of clothing to the side.

You don’t quite remember how you got here, drunk out of your minds nor do you remember who proposed the idea of playing a stripping game. The music from the forgotten frat party booms through the locked door. Your thoughts feel muddled and cloudy and your skin feels warm in this dim-lit room you’ve found yourself in. Your heart thuds in your chest and your breath feels hot and heavy.

The first to strip naked loses and so far things weren’t looking good for Kuroo but then again with the ache between your legs, things weren’t looking great for you either. The only articles of clothing you had discarded were your shoes and socks while Kuroo on the other hand was in nothing but boxers.

Your eyes didn’t dare to leave your deck of cards, an electrifying feeling rushes through your body at the prospect of stripping him whole but with every piece of clothing gone, you find yourself getting more and more distracted almost as if he had planned it.

You swallow thickly before setting three cards face down, “three sevens,”

He gazes at you and then at the pile of cards, you nibble at your lips in nervousness. 

“Bluff,” he calls out before reaching to turn over the cards. A seven, a queen and a two. 

A string of profanities run through your mind. He leans against the wall, elbow propped on his knee before giving you a devilish grin, making your stomach flip. You take the pile of cards into your own deck before reaching for the hem of your shirt, inhaling deeply before pulling it over your head and throwing it across the room. 

Kuroo’s jaw visibly tightens, gaze heavy and you try to ignore the hammering of your heart against your chest or the pressure building up between your legs. It’s his turn now and excitement courses through your body, one right guess and his last piece of clothing will be off. The thought makes your breathing quicken. 

“Four queens,” he calls out before resting the back of his head against the wall.

Bullshit, you think to yourself. This is too easy.

“Bluff,” you call, reaching to turn over the cards.

Huh?

He huffs, amused when you reveal four queens, exactly as he had called out. Shit shit shit.

If you take off your skirt, he’ll see the stains of arousal on your panties. You swallow hard before your lips curve in a wicked grin. 

Adrenaline courses through your veins as you reach under your skirt and pull down your lace underwear. Quickly bunching it up and tossing it to the side. You stifle down a laugh when Kuroo’s eyes widen as if he wasn’t smug just seconds ago.

You coyly cock your head to the side, flashing your pearly whites in a wicked smile. 

He drags a hand down the length of his face. “Fucking hell,” chest rising and falling rhythmically. 

You run a few fingers through your locks, eyes daring to rake his body. Fuck this stupid game, you think.

“Fuck this stupid game,” he says.

You raise a brow as he beckons you over and pure adrenaline gets you on your feet as you walk over to his spot on the carpet.

He brings his hands to rest above the backs of your knees and you feel your face heat up when he looks up at you, face inches away from your clothed core. His gaze bores into you questioningly waiting for a yes or no, for permission for him to touch you. You nod.

“I need to hear you say it,”

“Touch me.”

His eyes burn with something thick and heavy before he exhales, “whatever you want, princess,”

Hands slipping under your skirt, the pads of his fingers run along your skin, drawing circles at your hip bone before running back down. You click your tongue in annoyance.

“Impatient,” he hums, lightly pinching at your skin, you fist your hand in his hair in response. 

Bringing a hand to massage your inner thigh, he inches it closer and closer to your heat. Eyes locked in yours as he measures every grind of your teeth and shudders of your chest.

And just as you’re about to receive some long-awaited friction, he pulls away.

“Kuroo,” you groan in annoyance. 

“Shh, I know,” he comforts you, hands soothingly rubbing the back of your thighs.

“Stand against the wall and this,” he swipes a finger below your bra strap before snapping it lightly against your skin. “Take it off.”

His words go straight to your core and your breathing hitches in your throat. 

Under his gaze, you reach for your clasp, undoing the piece of garment as it falls to the floor. Kuroo’s gaze trails across your chest, skin burning where his eyes have left. Your cheeks feel hot when you reach for your breasts, squeezing them in your hands making him inhale sharply.

You back up against the wall and he follows, kneeling before you. The very sight of him on his knees to taste you was enough to make your lungs devoid of air. Holding your gaze with his, he brings his hands over your clothed hips. Fingers toying with the zipper of your skirt before pulling it in one swift motion making it fall to the ground. Funny, just a few minutes ago, you thought he’d be the one to strip naked first.

His eyes devour the sight of you bare, bare for him. It makes his cock ache in his boxers.

He brings a thumb to run through your folds, collecting your arousal as your back involuntarily arches at the long-awaited touch. 

“So wet,” he hums before bringing a calloused thumb to lightly circle your clit. A gasp rips from the depths of your throat. 

Retracting his slick coated thumb, he brings it to his lips. 

“So wet for me,” humming as he takes the finger in his mouth. You feel your breath hitch. 

He leans in painfully slow, parting his lips to run his tongue along your folds. Sucking lightly when he reaches your clit and smirking while doing it. Head resting against the wall, your eyes shut in pleasure. Panting at every lap and suck of his tongue, the room is filled with lewd slurping sounds. He licks and sucks at your clit before pulling away, arousal coating his lips as he catches his breath, grinning. You shoot him a look, intending to ask him why he stopped but before the words get to leave your lips, he hooks his hands under your thighs, lifting your legs off the ground and on his shoulders. Licking his lips at the sight in front of him. 

“Don’t think you’ll be able to stand in sometime sweetheart,” he mutters. Bringing two fingers to spread your pussy before running his tongue along your folds and teasingly around your hole, nose bumping your clit. Moans and hums of pleasure both from you and him, resonate in the room. Pressure builds in your lower stomach as your breathing quickens, you bring fingers to play with your nipples and he watches intently as you do so. 

“Finger me,” you hum breathlessly.

He smiles, mouth never leaving your heat. Lapping at your clit, he brings a finger to your aching hole, pushing it in with ease. Your back arches against the wall and your eyes screw shut, “yes” you whisper breathlessly, “more,” and he almost cums in his boxers.

Tongue leaving your swollen red clit, he cautiously eases another digit in. Curling his fingers inside you as he begins to pump in and out of you. A high pitched moan leaves your lips in response. His fingers gradually begin to increase their pace. He watches you intently, drinking in how your eyes shut and lips contort in pleasure. He aches to be inside you.

He increases his pace and your lips part, head angled towards the ceiling. “I'm-I'm close,”

“I know doll,” he hums as you clench down on his fingers, the knot in your lower stomach getting impossibly tighter. Your vision begins to blur with white dots as your moans fill the room. 

“Fuck Kuroo,” you gasp and he grins at you wickedly, curling his fingers to hit the spot making you gasp.

You say his name with parted lips and flushed cheeks as your arousal coats his skin and lips.

“You’re beautiful,” he hums as you hit the peak of your orgasm, a hand holding your waist, keeping you steady while his fingers kept pumping in and out of you, helping you through your orgasm. 

You slump against the wall painting and he grins licking his lips. You meet his gaze, panting heavily as he simply kisses the insides of your thighs, the action making your chest feel warm.

You bring a hand to caress his cheek, “let me return the favour,”

He brings you down on his lap, arms secured around your waist as you wrap yours around his neck. Loud sounds of breathing accompany the thumping of your hearts and Kuroo finally does what he’s been aching to do ever since you entered this room.

Calloused fingers run through your hair as he tentatively leans in, capturing his lips in yours.

You get lost in the feeling that is him, the warmth of his lips against yours makes you wish to never part. His hands find the back of your head, the feeling of his tongue overwhelming you as you taste your very own arousal from his lips. When you part, you’re breathless, heaving for air and a string of saliva connects your lips. Your eyes find solace in his obsidian ones, akin to black holes, sucking you in.

“You don’t need to do it if you don’t want to,” he says carefully.

You shake your head, “I want to.”

And his eyes go dark again, jaw tight as he simply nods. You begin to lightly rock your bare core against his clothed cock, his hands finding solace on your hips, squeezing and massaging the bare flesh. Your fingers reach to cup his defined jaw that you remember admiring from afar far too many times. Leaning in to kiss it tentatively. He groans as you rock against him, eyes shutting, making you smile.

Your movements come to a halt as you scoot off his lap, his gaze follows you. You reach for his clothed cock, carefully stroking it as a muffled hum leaves his throat.

“Take me out,”

You're glad you aren’t standing because he sure knows how to make your knees weak. 

Following his instructions, his cock springs out of boxers and the sight almost makes you drool.

Long and girthy with a single vein running along the side. Smooth with the prettiest brown tip you’ve ever seen slicked with pre cum. He smirks at your gaping before you wrap a manicured hand around his length making his breathing falter. Slowly pumping along his cock, you look at him from under your lashes to find his gaze already on you, burning with desire and something much more. It makes your stomach feel warm. 

His tip leaks with pre cum invitingly, licking your lips, you lean in to give it a tentative lick making him inhale sharply. His hand moves to your hair, gently brushing the loose strands out of your face before finding solace at the back of your head. 

Parting your swollen pink lips, you take in the tip, swirling your tongue while holding his gaze. He hisses before dragging a calloused hand down his face, “fuck,” he curses and a feeling of pride erupts inside you.

Your eyes don’t leave him as you begin to take more and more of his length, hand pumping whatever is not in your mouth. He groans loudly and the sound makes desire pool in your belly.

You bob your head up and down his length, noticing the quickened rise and fall of his toned chest and the sound of his breathing. His abs tense, sweat glistening off of his smooth skin. You hollow your cheeks, tongue swirling the underside of his cock. The sight of him glassy eyed with his muscles tense under your touch and redness creeping up his neck, spreading across his cheeks makes your lower belly pool with desire.

His hips jerk slightly, and you feel the tension rippling through his entire body. His hand tangles in your hair as he gasps your name like it’s the only word he remembers.

“Fuck—I'm gonna…”

But he doesn't get to finish the sentence. With a deep moan, he spills into your mouth, warm and sudden. 

You drink every last bit of him up greedily like a starved woman. Opening your mouth naughtily to show him what you’ve done.

Kuroo drags a calloused hand down the length of his face, “Fuck y/n, what are you doing to me?” he rasps, a smile at his lips. 

You grin devilishly before wrapping your fingers at the back of his neck. You press your lips passionately against his and he matches your rhythm, biting and sucking at your lower lip. He moves his hands to grab the flesh of your ass before pulling you on to straddle him, kneading and squeezing the flesh like dough. Humming into his mouth you feel need prick your skin, your core throbbing and asking for more.  

You begin rocking against his already hardening length in soft rhythmic motions and Kuroo hums in approval.

“So needy,” he exhales, lips leaving yours before moving his mouth to the junction of your jaw. Licking and sucking your skin before slowly moving south. 

You sigh in pleasure at the feeling of his hot breath against your bare skin.

He litters your necks with kisses and rose marks before locking his arms under your knees and getting on his feet. 

You gasp as in one swift motion, he pushes you onto the bed. Your mind goes into a frenzy when you feel his hardened cock press between your legs, the shaft rubbing against your red and swollen clit.  Inhaling sharply, you run your hands at the back of his neck through his hair.

His lips don’t leave your skin, instead they move to the swell of your breasts before ultimately finding your nipple. His eyes look up to meet yours as his tongue plays with your sensitive bud, licking and sucking as your nails dig into his defined shoulders. He looks at you, eyes dark with desire and the need for more and you can’t help but feel your face heat under the intensity of his gaze. 

The feeling of his arms propping up your legs as his hard cock presses against your core almost teasingly makes the ache in your gaping hole pound louder than ever while he relishes your breast in his mouth.

You press your head into the mattress, groaning. “Fuck- Kuroo,”

His mouth leaves the swell of your breast with a plop, “Yes, baby?” 

The affectionate nickname takes you by surprise and an odd feeling spreads at your chest.

Your place a palm at his cheek slowly guiding his face parallel to yours. His gaze feels heavy, dripping with intent as your orbs meet his. 

You speak, barely a decibel but Kuroo feels every inch of his skin burn at the words you say.

“Fill me up,” you exhale, raspily. 

His heart racing, eyes wide, “are you sure love?” he confirms but his voice is breathy and it drips with the desire. He wants this more than you could ever imagine. The image of his load coating your walls painted his mind, driving him wild.

The raw want in his tone paired with the way his sweet nickname sent ripples through your body. You felt heat collect both at your cheeks and your core. You wanted this 

You nod with raw intent and he feels every last string of restraint snap as he angles his cock at your entrance and pushes it in. Your back arches at the sudden sensation.  Fingers clinging on the fabric of the bed as he eases his way in. Your face scrunches as tinges of pain shoot due to his girth causing Kuroo’s eyes to look at you with concern. 

He furrows his brows, “are you in pain?” he asks.

 “If you are lets stop-” 

He slowly begins to slowly shift off you but you grab his face, your palms holding his cheeks. 

“Kuroo,” you start, “I want this,”

He gulps. You look at him intently before you confess.

 “I want you.”

Kuroo knows that it’s the pheromones talking. Sex, you’re talking about sex, he reminds himself but the more irrational part of him hopes that this situation that has you bare between his arms, inches deep wasn’t just due to your combined inebriation. 

Kuroo likes you, irredeemably so and when he heard that you were coming tonight, he found himself scrambling off his bed to his wardrobe, pulling on his best polo and spraying his most expensive cologne. He remembers Kenma rolling his eyes to the sight.

And as mother luck would have it, downing one drink after another, he found himself by you. He remembers your breath against the shell of his ear, confessing to your boredom. You were drunk and so was he when he proposed to this game on liquid courage as you stumbled into this empty bedroom together. 

Not even in his most far-fetched fantasies of you would he have imagined that the result would be his bare cock buried within you.

His lips crash into yours in wordless submission. You wrap your arms around his neck as he eases his length in you, meeting the passion of his kiss with equal if not more fervor. 

You wanted Kuroo and you wanted him now,

Kuroo begins to move his length in and out of you, finding his momentum and you groan against his lips. He feels himself going breathless at the sensation of your warm walls wrapped around him and your moans humming against his lips.

He momentarily breaks the kiss, eyes shut in pleasure as begins to snap his hips against yours, pace increasing.

“You feel so fucking good y/n” he confesses breathlessly.

The room sounds of lewd squelching noises as ploughs himself into you repeatedly. You smile, head rolling back and Kuroo pushes you further into the bed, climbing on with you. He grabs your ankles, placing them at his shoulders and pushes himself in, deeper than before with his arms propped at the sides of your face. You arch your back reflexively at the stimulation of your g spot. 

“Kuroo I-” but you don’t get to finish as he begins to pound into you. You gasp, hands finding its way in his hair. Kuroo watches you wild with desire as your soft breasts bounce repeatedly with the impact. Sweat glistens your face as the room is filled with loud moans and profanities. 

Your eyes are screwed shut in pleasure but Kuroo’s gaze is trained on you with indescribable desire. 

“You’re so fucking beautful yn,” he professes. “So beautiful,”

The coil in your lower stomach begins to coil as the both of you chase your high. Kuroo’s cock ramming inside of you made you feel numb to any sensation that wasn't him. You were woozy with desire, overstimulated with the pounding, you could feel the arrival of your release. 

“Kuroo, I’m gonna, I’m gonna-” you pant before the coil finally breaks. Your body shakes uncontrollably as you ride your release, lips forming an ‘O’. You bury your head into the nook of his neck and he holds you through your trembling high. You moan into his neck and Kuroo feels goosebumps riddle his skin at the sensation before he finally allows himself to release. 

“Cum inside me.” you order and who is he to not oblige. 

He groans loudly, before letting his seed gush into your walls and you gasp at the feeling before he crashes on top of you panting. You breathe into the shell of his ear as you hold each other.

A couple beats pass as you both respectively come down from your highs.

“Well,” you grin. “that escalated.”

Kuroo lets out a breathy laugh, rolling off from on top of you. He then tilts his head to the side to meet your gaze, a grin dancing at his lips. His hair’s a mess, cheeks flushed, eyes a little too honest under the dim light.

“Yeah,” he says, voice lower now. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

You sit up and his eyes don’t leave you as you move closer to him, head on his chest now. He wraps his arms around you, nuzzling his cheek into the crown of your head.

“Wow, your heart is racing.” you tease, angling your head to look at him. 

“Are you sure you don’t have something more to say to me?” you probe.

He rolls his eyes playfully but you don’t miss the crimson at his cheeks as gives you a soft, almost self-conscious smile. 

Your palm finds its way to his cheeks, cupping his face. 

“I don’t want this to be our only time,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.  You raise your eyebrows, an inquisitive hum leaving your throat. 

Kuroo looks at you, this time with sincerity as he moves to meet you in the eye but you smile knowingly, placing a finger on his lips.

 “Are you asking me out, or trying to schedule round two?” 

Kuroo laughs, it's joyous and sincere and his heart feels like it's about to burst.

He returns your gesture of being in mock thought.

“Hmm” he thinks out loud, a triumphant smile daring to rip through.

“How about both?”

a/n: I had the absolute time of my life writing this. also this is lowkey not proof read oopsies

[araragomennnn]

Akaashi’s vision was blurry.

His knuckles were white from the hard grip he had on the steering wheel as he drew in calculated breaths, images of your lips slotted against bokuto’s clouding his mind.

The road ahead was unclear- figuratively and literally as his glossy eyes simmered with tears threatening to adorn his cheeks.

The scene of you scrambling away from his best friend when he entered your shared home earlier than he was supposed to, was still fresh in his mind, playing on an endless loop.

How could you?

Your screams still rung in his ears, telling him to wait, that you could explain.

What was there to explain? he thought to himself. He saw whatever he needed to.

His feet carried him before his mind could fully comprehend what had happened, what he saw.

He vaguely remembers tripping over his feet a couple of times in his haze which explains the burning in his knee.

You were behaving rather strangely lately, distant. You must be lonely, he had thought to himself, considering the extended long hours he spent at work and the regular overtime.

He had hated it, how you didn’t kiss him as much anymore, how he was met with silence instead of your warm body that used to leap towards him when he came back home from work, how you didn’t go on dates with him anymore and how you stopped saying the three words that always made his heart spring out of his chest in euphoria.

He had blamed himself. He must have been neglecting you, right? Chastising himself he sought out to make it up to you, to smother you with kisses and affection the way he was longing to.

So he, oblivious to the real reason behind your strange behaviour, requested to get off early today and even took a detour to pick up all of your favourite snacks.

Driving aimlessly in his haze, he had nowhere to go. The two most important people to him, the people he kept closest to his heart, played him like the fiddle, toyed with him.

They made a fool out of him.

His chest was heavy with emotion. Anger, sadness, despair but no hate.

Because no matter how battered his heart may be he couldn't find it within himself to hate you. He could never hate you. You could break his heart a thousand more times yet he’d love you just the same. You were both the reason and the bane of his existence, the poison he’d drink willingly.

That was his curse, he loved you and you didn’t.

It was getting hard to breathe with the weight of his sobs. He accelerated his car and tightened his grip on the steering wheel as he continued to drive without any destination in mind.

He blinked in an attempt to clear his cloudy vision, cloudy due to the tears that wouldn’t stop spilling.

Betrayed by the two people he trusted the most, he wanted to cry and scream his heart out until his throat couldn’t project any more sound. It was torture, as scenes of your first date played out in his head, your first kiss and the first time he told you that he loved you.

You had seemed so happy and filled with joy at that time, maybe he failed to make you feel like that again, maybe he didn’t love you enough, maybe it was his fault.

His audible sobs reverberated through the car as his sight continued to blur with tears.

His vision was tainted, all he could see was you and Bokuto in your shared home, in a situation that didn’t include him.

All he could think of was your lips on someone else, your hands tracing someone else and their hands tracing you, touching every curve and dip of your skin, breathing in your scent, doing everything he learned to do with you.

And as he drove aimlessly through the streets, maybe it was the tears that clouded his line of sight, maybe it was his inattentiveness towards the road but it happened and all he could do was watch as in a split second a vehicle much bigger than his own collided into his.

So maybe it was the tears or his inattentiveness towards the road

or maybe it was you.

But whatever it was, on that ill fated day, you destroyed him,

both literally and figuratively.

a/n: i found this old fic in my drafts😭😭 yo what was i going through when i wrote this tf💀💀

[araragomennnn]

SECOND CHANCES - OIKAWA

sum: It’s been years since everything fell apart. But when a familiar voice cuts through the noise of his favourite bar, Oikawa realises some ghosts never really leave — and maybe, this time, he won’t let you go.

cw: angst, fluff, mentions of domestic violence, fighting, pining, slightly toxic!iwa, swearing.

wc: 3.8k

Oikawa knows how wrong this is. Hell, he’s known for years, yet when he heard the familiar clicking of heels against the hardwood floor along with snippets of a voice that rings in his ears and makes his heart race a million miles per hour, a voice that sounds a lot like yours.

He springs out of his seat, shuffling towards the sound, leaving his very unhappy date behind. Manoeuvring his way through the bustling crowd at his favourite Argentinian bar, his eyes frantically search the gathering and when they meet yours, it’s as if no time has passed at all. You’re leaning against the counter, elbows resting on its surface, gaze fixed on him and then you smile and it’s one that knocks all the air out of his chest as everything other than you begins to blur into the distance and he returns it, but wider.

He feels his conscience dissipate into the air when you pull out a barstool beside you, beckoning him to come over and when your arms envelope around his neck, your face meeting his chest, he feels it reduce into nothingness. He hugs you back, enjoying the moment, savouring it before he has to loosen his hold on your frame.

“Oh I’ve missed you,” you hum and it does inexplicable things to his heart.

“Makes sense,” he drawls playfully and he swears he can hear you roll your eyes.

You begin to pull away from him and he instantly misses your warmth, “I see age has not changed you,” you tease.

“What are you doing in Argentina?” he asks through a grin.

“Just work stuff,” you sigh before your lips curve into an excited smile, “enough about me, what about you, setter for the Argentinian volleyball team?” You playfully punch the side of his arm mid squeal and he chuckles, hoping you miss the way his cheeks redden at your excitement.

“How do you like it here?” you ask and you’re so happy, so proud of him, it almost makes him want to lie.

So, he does.

“I love it here,” he pauses, getting lost in the way you’re looking at him, “it’s exactly what I dreamed of,” lies.

Your face lights up and you clasp your hands together before reaching over to mush his cheeks. He rears his head back, flashing his palms, “hey, not with goods,”

You scoff playfully, smile never leaving your lips. “And to think you couldn’t get any cockier after high school,”

He chuckles and soon after you join him.

You talk for what seems like an hour after that, catching up on each other’s lives as old friends do before the dreaded question comes.

You fall silent, gaze fixed on your fingers as you fiddle with them and he tries to ignore how his heart squeezes tightly in anticipation, picking up his untouched glass to swallow the liquid in one go.

“How’s Hajime?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper as if it tastes stale in your mouth and he inhales sharply as if in physical pain but his smile doesn’t falter, he’s used to this after all.

“He’s good,” you nod, “I mean after all he is going to be the coach of the japan national volleyball team,” Oikawa shrugs.

You let out a relaxed exhale. “He’s come far,”

Oikawa nods, calling for the bartender, the nostalgic ache beginning to pour in.

It’s wrong, disloyal, betraying, the list goes on but above all, it’s his fault.

His fault for falling for his best friend’s ex.

He’d met you before Iwaizumi did and he remembers his first impression of you was that you looked a little nerdy but not in the stereotypical glasses-wearing way but the kind that makes people presidents.

He liked that, he admired that like he admired everything else about you and within the blink of an eye he couldn’t seem to remember a time without your presence in his little friend group and it seemed that with every little thing he uncovered about you, he only fell deeper.

He also remembers the day you went from iwaizumi’s lab partner to his girlfriend. Iwaizumi banged on his room door, screaming that he got a girlfriend before Oikawa did and before he got the chance to speak Iwaizumi told him that his girlfriend was none other than you.

But he would be a liar if he said that he was surprised. He always felt like an observer, scratch that he was an observer. It seemed that when you two were together you spoke in a language he never seemed to understand, a language that had no place for him.

He acted as if he never noticed the longing glances shared between you and Iwaizumi in hopes that you wouldn’t notice his.

He remembers that the breakup was messy, it was what led Iwaizumi to leave for California, and as quick as you entered Oikawa’s life you had left. You did keep in touch a little bit, but life and ambition pulled you in two different directions and it just wasn’t the same anymore, it couldn’t be. So, he moved on or he thought that he did but you, his first love always lingered in the back of his heart and mind when he was with anyone that wasn’t you.

The years have been good to you, he thinks as your laugh fills the canals of his ears and the chambers of his heart and a familiar feeling of longing begins to seep in.

They say you never really get over your first love. Oikawa hates how right they are but then you look at him like that, lips curved in an easy grin, cheeks flushed and eyes simmering with something he can’t put a finger on and he hates them a little less.

“My instructor said I picked up the language pretty fast,” Oikawa boasts,

You narrow your eyes at him, “say something in Spanish then,”

He scoffs pridefully before his gaze positions itself on the ceiling, in thought.

He sighs, “Todavía pienso en ti todos los días”

You still in your seat, eyes widening for a moment before you clear your throat, “what does that mean?”

He leans into your personal space on liquid courage, hot breath tickling the shell of your ear. “Figure it out yourself,”

You roll your eyes, leaning into the palm propping your face before the bartender shuffles over informing both of you that it’s almost an hour past closing time and that you both need to leave.

Oikawa turns to look around, the tables and barstools are empty. His time with you has come to an end.

His chest begins to hollow and dread begins to flood in as he shrugs on his coat after you.

The air is crisp and frigid once the doors close behind you, Oikawa notices you rubbing your palms together from the corner of his eye as he falls into step beside you.

He realises he barely asked you about yourself in the hours you spent together,

“What do you do?”

You perk up, tilting your head to meet his gaze and humming questioningly.

“Your job” he confirms, “what do you do for work?”

You smile knowingly and oikawa cocks a brow in confusion.

“Well,” you chew at your lower lip, “I'm an interpreter,” you confess.

Your cheeks redden, oikawa blinks before he halts in his steps.

“Wait..” he trails off, “when you said you were here for work...”

You spin to look at him, lips curved in a shy grin. “I’m a Spanish interpreter,”

Oikawa’s mouth opens before closing again, blinking before repeating the same process.

You shift your weight to your side, grin getting impossibly wider. Oikawa has no idea what any of this means but for a brief second he notices something flash across your face, a feeling he is all too familiar with but he buries that thought.

A dark red blush blooms across the skin of his face, he blames the cold. No one speaks for a few moments with oikawa gaping and blinking at you.

“Why did you act as if you didn’t understand?”

“To check if you were just messing with me,” you shrug before walking towards him. Your expression turns calmer, eyes wide and Oikawa is unsure of what to make of this. “or if you actually meant it.”

Oikawa waits for the ground to crack open and swallow him whole but sadly that doesn’t happen.

He tries to charm his way out of this by smirking but it ends up coming out pained and he sees you visibly biting the inside of your cheeks to prevent yourself from laughing.

“So what was the conclusion that you came to?” he tries to inquire cooly but it comes off wobbly and nervous.

You inhale deeply before aligning your gaze with the stars. “That it’s safe to tell you that I too thought of you everyday.”

Oikawa freezes, feet planted to the ground as he tries to make sense of the words that left your mouth but you’re already walking towards your car.

“W-wait,” he pleads to the back of your figure.

He can’t let you go. Not again, not this time.

This is wrong. He knows it is but safe guarding his best friend’s feelings led him to hurt his own.

He’s tired of trying to find a replacement for a position you never filled. He’s tired of pretending that this never happened, that you never happened but Unfortunately for him and Iwaizumi, you weren’t just a silly high school crush that persisted for a little too long and unfortunately for them you weren’t someone he was able to forget.

This is wrong he knows it is but he grabs your wrist pleadingly, he can’t for the life of him think of any other way to make you stay. Hoping the raw desperation in his eyes puts across what he’s been concealing in them for years.

But you loosen your hand out of his grip and the glaringly obvious realisation makes itself a little more obvious again.

You aren't his to keep, you never were.

He used to often think back to before Iwaizumi and you started dating. He’d kept his feelings hidden because he was afraid. A pure, simple and childish fear of rejection. It seems frustratingly stupid now.

But then, he saw how Iwaizumi looked at you and it felt like a punch in the gut and just like that it was too late. Iwaizumi had asked you out, and you said yes.

Then a month passed, a year, two years, yet the both of you were the very picture of young love and just like that Oikawa was left behind.

So, he put everything he had into volleyball and climbed his way up all the way to Argentina at the expense of his own blood, sweat and the many lonely nights in a bed too big for one and as time passed funnily enough Iwaizumi had called him, furiously delivering the news of your breakup.

He hates that all he felt was joy.

You look him in the eye, a bittersweet expression.

Oikawa’s hands are balled into fists at his sides.

“What did you mean by that?”

You sigh, it's one of exhaustion before screwing your eyelids shut.

“Tooru..I”

He inhales sharply at his first name. It’s been a while since he’s heard you call him that.

“What did you mean by that?” he pleads, brows knit together as a small spark of hope begins to ignite in him.

You glance at his hand at his side, clenching and unclenching like he’s holding something in — and you hate that you know exactly how that feels.

“I made a mistake,”

Tooru’s brows spread in confusion, “what?” he fumbles for words.

“What do you mean?”

“I made a mistake dating Hajime,”

This doesn't make sense, Oikawa thinks.

“What?”

You didn’t mean to let this get out. In fact you planned on locking how you felt within yourself for eternity. Hajime was a good man, deep down he was but you had grown tired of him, of his anger.

When the screaming matches made you long for silent dinners you knew that this had gone too far. You remember being a shell of a person you once were, pressing your palms against your ears like a cornered child when Iwaizumi shoved the china off the dinner table. The shards of glass spread across the living room like a tsunami and though regret immediately washed over his face. You knew apologies couldn’t save this relationship anymore.

You had chosen the wrong man.

**

You remember you were teetering at the edge of the court shyly observing the cool setter your classmate had told you about. He’s cute, you think. Your friends run on to the court after his match concluded, screaming greetings each one louder than the other. You had trailed slowly behind, unsure of what to do with your hands awkwardly in your pockets when a loud screech brought you back.

“Watch out!”

You turn to the source of the sound and as you know it, a ball is approaching you at mach speed.

This is it, you think to yourself. Of course you enter the Aoba Josei court for the first time and get hit in the face.

You close your eyes bracing for impact but none comes.

Hesitantly, you slowly open your eyes to a back facing you and the wretched ball rolling at your feet.

Oikawa slowly turns around, coughing with a pained smirk at his lips.

“You okay?” he wheezes out. His face was contorted in a weird expression in an attempt to hide the pain he was in while attempting to play off his hero moment in nonchalance.

You remember thinking he looked silly.

You hastily thanked him, hurrying off the court before you got the chance to be hounded by his fangirls.

You became friends with Hajime knowingly, and as you’d hoped you later became friends with Oikawa too, marking the beginning of your highschool crush.

You three were inseparable but the more time you spent with Oikawa, the farther he seemed to be from your reach. A man with big dreams, a star setter, the school heartthrob, he had almost everything so much so that you felt like you paled in comparison.

So the dream of Oikawa remained a dream, he was a silly day dream you played in your head in class, or when he’d come a tad too close for a friend, or when he’d brush his fingers against yours and you’d leave them there. He was your fleeting chance to escape the mundane in your head, you don’t remember exactly when you stopped thinking of him as anything else.

So, when Hajime asked you out, you said yes because while Oikawa was nothing but a dream, Iwaizumi was ready to be a part of your reality and though you’d never planned for it, you began to fall for Iwaizumi.

He made grand gestures to win you over, bought you flowers and took you on nice dates, he seemingly did everything right and those dreams you had of anything with Oikawa left at the back of your head, forgotten.

It was young love, fresh and yet to blossom but when life got to the both of you, the petals of a flower that never blossomed began to wilt. Iwaizumi was getting left behind, his classmates were training talented athletes or were becoming them but there seemed to be no room suited for Aoba Josai’s ex - spiker. He was frustrated, he knew that he still needed to grow but one harsh rejection after the other made him take out his pent up pain on you. So, you left him.

The break up was bad, Iwaizumi didn’t take it well and left for California right after.

Now, looking at how things panned out, it was for the best.

So you restarted your life without him but every now and then you couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if you’d taken that leap of fate and chosen Oikawa instead.

​​If those fleeting glances meant anything- him staying back after school to help you with cleaning duty, offering you his coat in the cold, the all nighters he had pulled to teach you for your tests, sharing his umbrella in the rain and tilting it so you stayed dry while his shoulder got soaked, if any of it meant anything.

You didn’t think the universe would give you a second chance but now looking at Oikawa’s desperate eyes you rethink every moment with him, every encounter, every conversation and wonder whether you had it wrong all along.

You now realise, you may have.

Maybe, this was your second chance.

You smile brightly, the weight of a thousand bricks off of you, “Tooru,” you say almost above a whisper but your eyes gleam with an indescribable light and Oikawa feels his knees go weak.

“I loved you first.”

And Oikawa for the first time in years believes that maybe this time he won't have to let you go.

a/n: reader little dense in this. also i still need to make a new taglist😢😢

[araragomennnn]

SECOND CHANCES - OIKAWA

sum: It’s been years since everything fell apart. But when a familiar voice cuts through the noise of his favourite bar, Oikawa realises some ghosts never really leave — and maybe, this time, he won’t let you go.

cw: angst, fluff, mentions of domestic violence, fighting, pining, slightly toxic!iwa, swearing.

wc: 3.8k

Oikawa knows how wrong this is. Hell, he’s known for years, yet when he heard the familiar clicking of heels against the hardwood floor along with snippets of a voice that rings in his ears and makes his heart race a million miles per hour, a voice that sounds a lot like yours.

He springs out of his seat, shuffling towards the sound, leaving his very unhappy date behind. Manoeuvring his way through the bustling crowd at his favourite Argentinian bar, his eyes frantically search the gathering and when they meet yours, it’s as if no time has passed at all. You’re leaning against the counter, elbows resting on its surface, gaze fixed on him and then you smile and it’s one that knocks all the air out of his chest as everything other than you begins to blur into the distance and he returns it, but wider.

He feels his conscience dissipate into the air when you pull out a barstool beside you, beckoning him to come over and when your arms envelope around his neck, your face meeting his chest, he feels it reduce into nothingness. He hugs you back, enjoying the moment, savouring it before he has to loosen his hold on your frame.

“Oh I’ve missed you,” you hum and it does inexplicable things to his heart.

“Makes sense,” he drawls playfully and he swears he can hear you roll your eyes.

You begin to pull away from him and he instantly misses your warmth, “I see age has not changed you,” you tease.

“What are you doing in Argentina?” he asks through a grin.

“Just work stuff,” you sigh before your lips curve into an excited smile, “enough about me, what about you, setter for the Argentinian volleyball team?” You playfully punch the side of his arm mid squeal and he chuckles, hoping you miss the way his cheeks redden at your excitement.

“How do you like it here?” you ask and you’re so happy, so proud of him, it almost makes him want to lie.

So, he does.

“I love it here,” he pauses, getting lost in the way you’re looking at him, “it’s exactly what I dreamed of,” lies.

Your face lights up and you clasp your hands together before reaching over to mush his cheeks. He rears his head back, flashing his palms, “hey, not with goods,”

You scoff playfully, smile never leaving your lips. “And to think you couldn’t get any cockier after high school,”

He chuckles and soon after you join him.

You talk for what seems like an hour after that, catching up on each other’s lives as old friends do before the dreaded question comes.

You fall silent, gaze fixed on your fingers as you fiddle with them and he tries to ignore how his heart squeezes tightly in anticipation, picking up his untouched glass to swallow the liquid in one go.

“How’s Hajime?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper as if it tastes stale in your mouth and he inhales sharply as if in physical pain but his smile doesn’t falter, he’s used to this after all.

“He’s good,” you nod, “I mean after all he is going to be the coach of the japan national volleyball team,” Oikawa shrugs.

You let out a relaxed exhale. “He’s come far,”

Oikawa nods, calling for the bartender, the nostalgic ache beginning to pour in.

It’s wrong, disloyal, betraying, the list goes on but above all, it’s his fault.

His fault for falling for his best friend’s ex.

He’d met you before Iwaizumi did and he remembers his first impression of you was that you looked a little nerdy but not in the stereotypical glasses-wearing way but the kind that makes people presidents.

He liked that, he admired that like he admired everything else about you and within the blink of an eye he couldn’t seem to remember a time without your presence in his little friend group and it seemed that with every little thing he uncovered about you, he only fell deeper.

He also remembers the day you went from iwaizumi’s lab partner to his girlfriend. Iwaizumi banged on his room door, screaming that he got a girlfriend before Oikawa did and before he got the chance to speak Iwaizumi told him that his girlfriend was none other than you.

But he would be a liar if he said that he was surprised. He always felt like an observer, scratch that he was an observer. It seemed that when you two were together you spoke in a language he never seemed to understand, a language that had no place for him.

He acted as if he never noticed the longing glances shared between you and Iwaizumi in hopes that you wouldn’t notice his.

He remembers that the breakup was messy, it was what led Iwaizumi to leave for California, and as quick as you entered Oikawa’s life you had left. You did keep in touch a little bit, but life and ambition pulled you in two different directions and it just wasn’t the same anymore, it couldn’t be. So, he moved on or he thought that he did but you, his first love always lingered in the back of his heart and mind when he was with anyone that wasn’t you.

The years have been good to you, he thinks as your laugh fills the canals of his ears and the chambers of his heart and a familiar feeling of longing begins to seep in.

They say you never really get over your first love. Oikawa hates how right they are but then you look at him like that, lips curved in an easy grin, cheeks flushed and eyes simmering with something he can’t put a finger on and he hates them a little less.

“My instructor said I picked up the language pretty fast,” Oikawa boasts,

You narrow your eyes at him, “say something in Spanish then,”

He scoffs pridefully before his gaze positions itself on the ceiling, in thought.

He sighs, “Todavía pienso en ti todos los días”

You still in your seat, eyes widening for a moment before you clear your throat, “what does that mean?”

He leans into your personal space on liquid courage, hot breath tickling the shell of your ear. “Figure it out yourself,”

You roll your eyes, leaning into the palm propping your face before the bartender shuffles over informing both of you that it’s almost an hour past closing time and that you both need to leave.

Oikawa turns to look around, the tables and barstools are empty. His time with you has come to an end.

His chest begins to hollow and dread begins to flood in as he shrugs on his coat after you.

The air is crisp and frigid once the doors close behind you, Oikawa notices you rubbing your palms together from the corner of his eye as he falls into step beside you.

He realises he barely asked you about yourself in the hours you spent together,

“What do you do?”

You perk up, tilting your head to meet his gaze and humming questioningly.

“Your job” he confirms, “what do you do for work?”

You smile knowingly and oikawa cocks a brow in confusion.

“Well,” you chew at your lower lip, “I'm an interpreter,” you confess.

Your cheeks redden, oikawa blinks before he halts in his steps.

“Wait..” he trails off, “when you said you were here for work...”

You spin to look at him, lips curved in a shy grin. “I’m a Spanish interpreter,”

Oikawa’s mouth opens before closing again, blinking before repeating the same process.

You shift your weight to your side, grin getting impossibly wider. Oikawa has no idea what any of this means but for a brief second he notices something flash across your face, a feeling he is all too familiar with but he buries that thought.

A dark red blush blooms across the skin of his face, he blames the cold. No one speaks for a few moments with oikawa gaping and blinking at you.

“Why did you act as if you didn’t understand?”

“To check if you were just messing with me,” you shrug before walking towards him. Your expression turns calmer, eyes wide and Oikawa is unsure of what to make of this. “or if you actually meant it.”

Oikawa waits for the ground to crack open and swallow him whole but sadly that doesn’t happen.

He tries to charm his way out of this by smirking but it ends up coming out pained and he sees you visibly biting the inside of your cheeks to prevent yourself from laughing.

“So what was the conclusion that you came to?” he tries to inquire cooly but it comes off wobbly and nervous.

You inhale deeply before aligning your gaze with the stars. “That it’s safe to tell you that I too thought of you everyday.”

Oikawa freezes, feet planted to the ground as he tries to make sense of the words that left your mouth but you’re already walking towards your car.

“W-wait,” he pleads to the back of your figure.

He can’t let you go. Not again, not this time.

This is wrong. He knows it is but safe guarding his best friend’s feelings led him to hurt his own.

He’s tired of trying to find a replacement for a position you never filled. He’s tired of pretending that this never happened, that you never happened but Unfortunately for him and Iwaizumi, you weren’t just a silly high school crush that persisted for a little too long and unfortunately for them you weren’t someone he was able to forget.

This is wrong he knows it is but he grabs your wrist pleadingly, he can’t for the life of him think of any other way to make you stay. Hoping the raw desperation in his eyes puts across what he’s been concealing in them for years.

But you loosen your hand out of his grip and the glaringly obvious realisation makes itself a little more obvious again.

You aren't his to keep, you never were.

He used to often think back to before Iwaizumi and you started dating. He’d kept his feelings hidden because he was afraid. A pure, simple and childish fear of rejection. It seems frustratingly stupid now.

But then, he saw how Iwaizumi looked at you and it felt like a punch in the gut and just like that it was too late. Iwaizumi had asked you out, and you said yes.

Then a month passed, a year, two years, yet the both of you were the very picture of young love and just like that Oikawa was left behind.

So, he put everything he had into volleyball and climbed his way up all the way to Argentina at the expense of his own blood, sweat and the many lonely nights in a bed too big for one and as time passed funnily enough Iwaizumi had called him, furiously delivering the news of your breakup.

He hates that all he felt was joy.

You look him in the eye, a bittersweet expression.

Oikawa’s hands are balled into fists at his sides.

“What did you mean by that?”

You sigh, it's one of exhaustion before screwing your eyelids shut.

“Tooru..I”

He inhales sharply at his first name. It’s been a while since he’s heard you call him that.

“What did you mean by that?” he pleads, brows knit together as a small spark of hope begins to ignite in him.

You glance at his hand at his side, clenching and unclenching like he’s holding something in — and you hate that you know exactly how that feels.

“I made a mistake,”

Tooru’s brows spread in confusion, “what?” he fumbles for words.

“What do you mean?”

“I made a mistake dating Hajime,”

This doesn't make sense, Oikawa thinks.

“What?”

You didn’t mean to let this get out. In fact you planned on locking how you felt within yourself for eternity. Hajime was a good man, deep down he was but you had grown tired of him, of his anger.

When the screaming matches made you long for silent dinners you knew that this had gone too far. You remember being a shell of a person you once were, pressing your palms against your ears like a cornered child when Iwaizumi shoved the china off the dinner table. The shards of glass spread across the living room like a tsunami and though regret immediately washed over his face. You knew apologies couldn’t save this relationship anymore.

You had chosen the wrong man.

**

You remember you were teetering at the edge of the court shyly observing the cool setter your classmate had told you about. He’s cute, you think. Your friends run on to the court after his match concluded, screaming greetings each one louder than the other. You had trailed slowly behind, unsure of what to do with your hands awkwardly in your pockets when a loud screech brought you back.

“Watch out!”

You turn to the source of the sound and as you know it, a ball is approaching you at mach speed.

This is it, you think to yourself. Of course you enter the Aoba Josei court for the first time and get hit in the face.

You close your eyes bracing for impact but none comes.

Hesitantly, you slowly open your eyes to a back facing you and the wretched ball rolling at your feet.

Oikawa slowly turns around, coughing with a pained smirk at his lips.

“You okay?” he wheezes out. His face was contorted in a weird expression in an attempt to hide the pain he was in while attempting to play off his hero moment in nonchalance.

You remember thinking he looked silly.

You hastily thanked him, hurrying off the court before you got the chance to be hounded by his fangirls.

You became friends with Hajime knowingly, and as you’d hoped you later became friends with Oikawa too, marking the beginning of your highschool crush.

You three were inseparable but the more time you spent with Oikawa, the farther he seemed to be from your reach. A man with big dreams, a star setter, the school heartthrob, he had almost everything so much so that you felt like you paled in comparison.

So the dream of Oikawa remained a dream, he was a silly day dream you played in your head in class, or when he’d come a tad too close for a friend, or when he’d brush his fingers against yours and you’d leave them there. He was your fleeting chance to escape the mundane in your head, you don’t remember exactly when you stopped thinking of him as anything else.

So, when Hajime asked you out, you said yes because while Oikawa was nothing but a dream, Iwaizumi was ready to be a part of your reality and though you’d never planned for it, you began to fall for Iwaizumi.

He made grand gestures to win you over, bought you flowers and took you on nice dates, he seemingly did everything right and those dreams you had of anything with Oikawa left at the back of your head, forgotten.

It was young love, fresh and yet to blossom but when life got to the both of you, the petals of a flower that never blossomed began to wilt. Iwaizumi was getting left behind, his classmates were training talented athletes or were becoming them but there seemed to be no room suited for Aoba Josai’s ex - spiker. He was frustrated, he knew that he still needed to grow but one harsh rejection after the other made him take out his pent up pain on you. So, you left him.

The break up was bad, Iwaizumi didn’t take it well and left for California right after.

Now, looking at how things panned out, it was for the best.

So you restarted your life without him but every now and then you couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if you’d taken that leap of fate and chosen Oikawa instead.

​​If those fleeting glances meant anything- him staying back after school to help you with cleaning duty, offering you his coat in the cold, the all nighters he had pulled to teach you for your tests, sharing his umbrella in the rain and tilting it so you stayed dry while his shoulder got soaked, if any of it meant anything.

You didn’t think the universe would give you a second chance but now looking at Oikawa’s desperate eyes you rethink every moment with him, every encounter, every conversation and wonder whether you had it wrong all along.

You now realise, you may have.

Maybe, this was your second chance.

You smile brightly, the weight of a thousand bricks off of you, “Tooru,” you say almost above a whisper but your eyes gleam with an indescribable light and Oikawa feels his knees go weak.

“I loved you first.”

And Oikawa for the first time in years believes that maybe this time he won't have to let you go.

a/n: reader little dense in this. also i still need to make a new taglist😢😢

[araragomennnn]

caught - tsukishima

Your heart was thumping hard against your chest, your panties wet with your slick, clenching your thighs together as you tried to do something, anything to get yourself off.

The sight in front of you was one to behold as you watched through the small gap between the door.

Tsukishima was on his bed one hand behind his head, shirt off, shorts pulled down to reveal his hard 7-inch cock and pretty pink tip beading with precum. 

You watched in awe as he stroked his girthy cock slowly increasing his pace. He bit his lip, head rolling back with pleasure as he said your name. "Fuck y/n you’re so good , pretty girl.”

Your eyes widened, he was getting off to you? This makes things so much more interesting you thought as your lips curved into a devilish grin.

He moaned your name loudly as he felt himself approach his high, soft whimpers leaving his mouth. You were absolutely hooked on the sight.

Opening the door, you leaned on the door frame, arms folded across your chest.

“I heard you call me is something the matter?,” you asked innocently, feigning concern

“Oh my what do we have here,” you said a smirk spreading across your face

His bright red face made you giddy, his eyes went wide in shock as he sat up to make efforts to cover himself.

“ I..I can explain-”

“What’s there to explain?” you said cutting him off, smirk still evident across your face.

“You were getting off to me weren’t you,” you said, approaching him, leaning close to his face as you lift his chin with your thumb, savouring his flustered expression.

You move closer, expression cocky, your lips hovering inches away from his.

You could feel his breathing quicken, his wide eyes looking at your lips in anticipation, gulping and his face still very much red.

You couldn’t get enough of this rare sight. You could see his pretty cock twitch under the thin blanket he threw on through your peripheral vision. Deciding to enjoy this situation a bit more as you move away, you rest your hands on your hips. 

Embarrassed, Tsukishima looked anywhere but at you as he started pulling his shorts back up only for your hand to stop him and tug his blanket off with one swift motion. His cock springs straight, pretty pink flushed tip, beading with precum. You lick your lips.

He looks at his wrist where your hand holds his, positioned painfully close to his cock.

“Wh-  what are you doing” breathing heavily, face still burning with the shame of being caught.

“Enjoying this” you said with a cocky smirk across your face.

Without giving him any time to respond you lifted your leg and placed it on his shoulder, giving a good view of what was under your skirt. 

He could feel the wind knock out of him, face heating up as he looked at the wet splotches on your panties. 

Not wasting any time, you kick his shoulder, making him fall flat across the bed.

Like clockwork, you climb on, straddling him.

He looks at you eyes wide, unable to utter words with your clothed core pressed against his bare cock as he draws in a sharp breath, face getting redder with each passing second.

Enjoying his flustered state you start grinding against his hard cock making him throw his head back, eyes closing in pleasure as he bites his lip trying to muffle his whimpers and moans. 

“Wa- wait”

You stopped your movements, slightly tilting your head to the side.

 “Hm, why? I thought you wanted this with how loud you were moaning my name?” you ask him feigning innocence, as you traced your finger along his hip bone.

With your clothed core pressed against him so intimately and your fingers touching him like that he could barely think straight let alone form sentences. He doesn’t even know for how long he’s wanted this, wanted you.

Your mocking expression slowly fades away and is quickly replaced with a look of concern.

“If this makes you uncomfortable i'll stop, just tell me the word”

“No no it’s not that it’s just that I don’t know how if you actually want this”

You raise your eyebrows, 

“Like want this with me I mean” he completed, eyes barely meeting yours.

He looked so vulnerable in front of you right now, a stark contrast to his usual cold and calm demeanor, making heat burn between your legs.

Your eyes softened

“Only if you do” 

“I do”

Immediately, you leaned towards his face, his lips meeting yours. He seemed shocked at first but slowly found his rhythm, tongue fighting for dominance.

His hands wandered up your skirt as he cupped your ass kneading the flesh in his hands.

Small moans and whimpers escaped your mouths as you continued grinding on him.

He abruptly pulled away and in one swift motion placed you underneath him. His eyes drank in your dishevelled state, lips swollen dripping with your mixed spit with your skirt hiked above your underwear.

You gulped, the way his eyes bore into you dark with lust and desire made you clench your thighs.

He quirked an eyebrow as his lips turned into a smirk.

“Not so cocky anymore huh?”

You rolled your eyes “Shut up and fuck me already.”

His eyes widened as he felt his face heat up and with that, every last bit of self-control he had was out of the window.

He kissed you passionately as his hands worked with the buttons of your shirt, pulling it off within seconds.

He then with one swift movement, undid your bra and pulled away from the kiss to look at you.

“Holy fuck.” 

He felt his mind go blank as he stared at your tits, nipples already hard. Looking into your eyes  as he sank his teeth into one of your nipples and his hand rolled the sensitive bud of your other breast between his fingers. Slowly licking and every now and then grazing his teeth against it, your pussy was now throbbing you needed him, now.

“Kei..” you whispered softly between your soft whimpers.

As if he read your mind, he slowly started rubbing his fingers against your seeping clothed cunt making you arch your back at the sudden sensation.

His mouth and hand left your breasts and he started slowly tugging off your panties.

He sucked in a sharp breath, eyes going wild with desire as he gaped at your dripping pussy.

His fingers glided across your glistening slit making you moan, making direct eye contact as he started rubbing circles on your clit relishing your flustered expression as you moaned under the intensity of his gaze.

He didn’t break eye contact as he pushed in one finger then two into your dripping hole and he started pumping in and out of you all while still rubbing your clit. You arched your back, eyes closed in pleasure, moaning loudly as he increased his pace.

He couldn’t take his eyes off you looking so pretty moaning his name so loudly, the sight almost made him cum then and there.

“Wa- wait” you said breathlessly between pants “ i want to make you feel good too”

You sat up and he gasped as he felt your hand around his throbbing cock. 

You bent over and tentatively licked the precum off his tip. 

He unconsciously bucked his hips up, forcing his cock into your mouth.

“i- im sorry i didn't mean to-”

You held a hand up for him to stop and started bobbing your head up and down his length, hollowing your cheeks.

He gasped and placed his hands in your hair moving it out of the way, to get a good look at your pretty face.

“You’re so beautiful.”

You looked at him, an eyebrow raised as you increase your pace causing him to moan loudly.

He could feel himself once again approach his high, he was so close just a little bit more but then you stopped.

He looked at you in confusion, almost irritated with your smug expression.

You licked the drool escaping your lips with one swift swipe of the tongue making him gulp.

“I can’t have you cumming before you fuck my pussy, isn’t that right?” you say breathlessly as you twirl strands of hair around your finger.

“You’re crazy,” he whispers breathlessly.

He pulls you into another fierce kiss, his lips so soft against yours as he slowly lays you back down and removes your last remaining article of clothing, throwing your skirt to the floor.

Now completely naked before him his eyes greedily drink you in. 

He pauses.

His eyes roam hungrily as if he’s memorizing you. Every curve, every inch of exposed skin, every little detail he's dreamed about—now right in front of him. His throat bobs as he swallows hard.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “You’re… beautiful.”

There’s no teasing in his voice. Just awe. And heat. A kind of wonder that makes your skin flush under the intensity of it.

You instinctively wrap your arms around your chest and push your head to the side, embarrassed.

“Not so cocky now?” he teases back to his usual demeanor, a grin at his flushed lips. You gulp.

He leans in, tenderly cupping your red hot face. So close that you can feel his breath against your skin.

He’s wanted this ever since he saw you waltz into his political science class. Laptop clutchted to your chest, you had scrambled to the only vacant seat next to him. You were late on your first day and apologetically asked him to catch you to speed. Being the bubbly and easy going type, thus began your college friendship or that’s what you had thought at least. 

Tsukishima was a respectful man. Probably more well mannered than most but when you’d accidentally brush your chest against him or bend over to pick up a pencil, giving him a good view of the lace panties you were hiding beneath your skirt. 

He’d feel foreign amounts of heat gather at his core, heat that he would need to extinguish by excusing himself to a bathroom break.

This is the last time, he’d tell himself when he’d pull his hard cock out of his pants, your sweet voice from the phone’s speaker talking about the latest book you’d just read. 

He was down bad, disgustingly so. 

So when the image of those panties crossed his mind, he couldn’t help himself. The urge to touch, to imagine, to want—it took over, the way it usually does.

Never in a million years did he think this would actually happen.

Now, your soft breasts bounce with each thrust, your arms stretched high above your head, wrists locked together in his grip. You’re pinned, completely at his mercy and him at yours.

Every time he drives into you, your voice spills out in gasps and cries for more.

“Kei—fuck!” you choke out, breath raspy and raw.

He’s above you, flushed and glistening, eyes blown wide with lust. His gaze meets yours—dark, intense—and the knot in your core finally snaps. Your back arches instinctively, pleasure coiling until it bursts, shaking through your entire body.

You cry out, loud and unrestrained, as your release ripples over you.

With a groan, Tsukishima finally lets go. He pulls out just in time, spilling his seed onto your stomach before collapsing beside you, chest rising and falling against yours.

You’re both wrecked—sweaty, trembling, but smiling through the afterglow.

You turn your head to him, lips curling with mischief.

“Again?”

p.s: please don't add yourself to the old tag list, I lost the mail address attached to it :((!! making a new one asap!!!