#MSBY Jackals

[somepinkthing]

Furudate made the post timeskip teams with comedy in mind. They said what is the funniest groups of ppl I can put together? And then did it. And then put yaku in a russian mob boss suit just to sprinkle that in

[shokobuns]

i asked you a question, i wanna know why!

why'd you have to make that record 'bout me?

song about me.

synopsis: writing songs about the fling that broke your heart catapults your band into fame. unfortunately, his bedroom won't be the last place you see him

ALTERNATIVELY — you and atsumu learn to get along for the sake of your best friends.

genre: romcom, some angst, smut in a wayyy later chapter (18+)

tags. band au, college au for a bit, chemical engineering major!reader, marketing major!kuroo, marketing major!kenma, lead singer!reader, drummer!shoko, bassist!getou, guitarist!utahime, ex fling to lovers, satosugu roommates, shokohime roommates/lovers, bokuaka, gojo is filthy rich, msby black jackals vs. schweiden adlers arc, kuroo is desperately looking for employment, small olympics 2024 arc w/ guest stars, kenma loves roblox, suna is locked into his lover

PAIRING(S): miya atsumu x f!reader, brief trashy!semi eita x f!reader ft. oc named mika x suna rintarou, shokohime, bokuaka, and satosugu if you squint

updates: ongoing series! monday, wednesday, friday (hopefully this is consistent)

taglist:: open! (send an ask off anon or with an account to be added)

masterlist

[apt. 202b + roaches] / [samu's kittens]

pt. 0 — sunday morning / pt. 1 — sweet nothing / pt. 2 — jumpscare / pt. 3 — situationship… / pt. 4 — gaydar / pt. 5 — count your days. / pt. 6 — short king showdown / pt. 7 — survive the killer / pt. 8 — radar! / pt. 9 — the oomflympics / pt. 10 — shit ur pants / pt. 11 — care / pt. 12 — untitled

[leafington]

(𝙞 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙖) 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙮, 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙚. - kiyoomi s.

content warning !! - angst to comfort so essentially fluff, blackfem!reader, drinking implied but no intoxication, suggestiveness if you squint, mayhaps ooc but idc i do what i want

This isn't him. No chance in hell. He's supposed to be big, ignorant, and one-track minded Sakusa—MSBY Black Jackal's infamous outside hitter. His identity's been tainted by some girl he managed to wriggle into his life, denting his plans but not quite hindering them.

He used to threaten others with his wrist, messing with little kids by folding his hands. Said person told him to stop it, and he did. He can't remember the last time he crouched down to an 8-year-old and watched them run for their mother because of him. Sakusa had a strict hair routine that wasn't going to change no matter how long his hair got, the same four products he's used since his mother taught him how to take care of his curls. That woman came along and he'd let her share his bathroom, adding one extra product she claimed would make his curls more full which indefinitely worked.

In his first year of highschool, he would've freaked out discovering his future self succumbed to his natural teenage tendencies and fell for what he can only describe as the prettiest girl in the world.

She looked so ethereal barging into their practice one day, approaching Komori and exchanging words regarding whatever required discussion. Days passed of just Sakusa debating putting his pride aside just to talk to a girl. In the long run he didn't, but thankfully lucked out when Komori picked up on his interest and invited them both over.

"'Coincidence' my ass."

To this very moment, he cherished every day spent they together. Hence why he's so pressed that he's missing her, sitting on his hotel bed, finger hovering over the 'My World 🗺️' UI in his contacts. He never changed it.

She plauged his mind with her being. He wants see her again, feel her hands in his hair, scrub the hard-to-reach spots on his back (he can reach them, he just prefers for her to do it), apologize for his ignorance, pride, and one-track mindset; all of it.

Damn it all.

The rowdy bunch kept him busy all day, it's their fault he's waiting for the stupid ring back to either stop or tell him he's reached her voicemail, he hopes it's the latter that way he can flush down that reprehensive feeling of reaching out to her so late. What were they thinking taking him out for drinks?

"Hello?" Sleep and disorientation transmit on his side, regardless, he's grateful to hear her voice again.

"Baby? It's me," He sounds so pathetic, he can only imagine what she thinks of him for pulling such a stunt. "I miss you. So much, baby. You don't even know." It's unfathomable, not even Sakusa knows why he's doing this.

Yes he does. He wants his girl back. "I know it's late, I'm sorry for waking you, I just had to let you know." Sakusa speaks low into the phone, not so much a whisper, but to the point where she won't be disturbed. "Sakusa? The hell? It's like—"

"Kiyo. It's Kiyo to you." He never talked over her, except for this and one other time. He swears it's the last time, shutting up so she can finish. "Two in the morning? I have work." Either his surname or not at all, that's okay, he's determined to fix that. "Just listen to me, 'kay?"

"I never should've blown up at you. I was exhausted, tired, annoyed, I didn't mean anything I said. I should've talked to you, you know I would never voluntarily raise my voice at you, right? I can't keep this up. I wanna see you, I need to see you. Please, love." He's never felt more humiliated like this in his life, begging over the phone for his woman to take him back.

It's quiet, the faint squeak of her fan in the background. An annoyed grunt is detected presumably her sitting up. "Aren't you in Tokyo right now?" She has a point, but that's never stopped Sakusa from getting what he wants. "I'll make the flight, just say the word." He might just be willing to ditch the entire game, he'll do so at her command. "You're delusional. C'mon, you're not flying all the way out here just to see me. You better play tomorrow, I'm serious. I'm not in your way anymore, focus on volleyball."

He's not getting through to her. She's slipping from his fingers with the tight grasp he has on her. "Y/n. I'll say 'Fuck the team.' and blow it all for you. You've never been in my way, ever, so stop thinking like that. I'm sitting here, butt-naked in a towel on expensive ass bedsheets begging you to take me back. I don't know what I have to do, but I'll do it if it means I can be in your arms again, babygirl."

Silence again—meaning the worst or the best from her. She shuffles around a little, and digs through some type of drawer of sorts before finally speaking again.

"You better win."

Sakusa Kiyoomi is a lovesick fool, he admits it. Anything for his woman. And he means anything.

©2024 leafington dont steal please!! :)

[awaari]

It’s the Year of the Rabbit so decided to show what my 12 years old self can do 

[eightpercentao3]

A little sneak peak of chapter 15 !!! in the WORKS WOOOO

Their kiss changed his mind. 

Hinata froze, at first. Immobile like a statue while Atsumu curled his hands around his cheeks and pulled him in for a kiss. Desperately. Wanting beyond want for Hinata to return his affection. Pressing his lips against the slot of Hinata’s mouth hoping Hinata would kiss him back. 

Please. Please.  Atsumu begged. His heart roared loudly in his ears. His hands trembled. Don’t let this be something I’m feeling alone. Please- 

Then, as if dawn had broken, Hinata melted. As if a cloud had burst, bringing with it a revelation. 

Hinata had relaxed into the touch. Sighed so soft only Atsumu’s mouth could taste it. Sighing as if he released whatever held him back right there and then. 

Atsumu licked his lips. His mouth still tingled. As if the ghost of the kiss had come back to resurrect itself so Atsumu could never forget how it felt. Not like he would even if he tried. 

Hinata had kissed Atsumu back without mercy. He kissed Atsumu like he was starving. Like he ached to have all of Atsumu inside of him and around him and-

Then he bolted. 

As quickly as the kiss happened, it ended.

[freakurodani]

what if we start a trend where we draw ourselves with our faves like we just went to a game and were at the meet and greet?

[qtipcottonbuds]

𝙆𝙄𝙉𝙆𝙏𝙊𝘽𝙀𝙍 '𝟮𝟮 ; 𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝘼𝙏𝙎𝙐𝙈𝙐 [SEMI-PUBLIC + CLOTHED SEX]

jealous atsumu when someone won’t take no for a answer for yous lot tbh i rushe dthis o balls

warnings ;; possible mild language, jealousy, jealous sex, semi-public sex, clothed sex (sort of), humiliation and slight degradation, rough-ish sex, atsumu is vulgar in this i apologize etc

by qtipcottonbuds 2022. do not repost.

𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗨𝗠𝗨 𝗫 𝗚𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥;

“C’mon, answer it. Wouldn’t wanna keep him waitin,’ sweetheart, would ya?”

The mobile phone continues to buzz atop the bedside table, vibrating against the wood; and it’s irritating, grating at his ears, but more than anything, the bright screen flashing intermittently with both the number, and their name, is what gets Atsumu the most. Always ringing near enough to every hour of everyday - you were too soft, too sweet, brushing them off gently - you didn’t want any confrontation. But, Atsumu knew, he knew first hand their intentions.

It was far from innocent.

Keening into his hand, muffling your whines, you insistently shake your head back at him - maybe if he was in your position, Atsumu would consider responding in the same manner you just had. Resisting initially, and attempting to shrug his palm firmly situated across your lips off to stop him; it was adorable, the eagerness of your will to fight back, to push him off. Yet, only to relax in the said hold, complacent and pliable with each roll of his hips, slow and methodical, sinking deeper, kissing your insides. A perverse pacifier.

(People aren’t kind, and Atsumu is far from kind).

“Well, if you ain’t gonna do it, I’ll do it for ya.”

Leaning downwards and grasping onto the mobile, Atsumu swipes across the call button allowing it to connect; a smile, plastered with ill-intent, on his lips. His gaze is heavy, holding your own, and he can tell you hate it. The helplessness, the fear - a restrained pleading to stop - if anything, it was fueling the fire further.

“So, yer the so-called colleague, yeah? Workin’ with them on that project,'' a hum, masked with civility, “What’s with the confusion, m’sure ya know who I am, right? Most people do, when they listen. Are ya any good at listenin?’ Takin’ in information?”

Easing his grasp across your mouth, patting the side of your cheek affectionately, Atsumu rolls his hips yet again, languidly, the fat glans of his cock angling in such a way you abruptly arch up into the touch, your thighs parting wider, almost eagerly. 

“Good, good. I like t’hear that. Love it when people listen, ya’know, makes ya feel heard. Seen. Anyway; I know all about ya. My sweetheart, pretty thing, too nice, too soft - just can’t be mean - but, I can. They told me everythin’. Askin’ ‘em for a date, not leavin’ ‘em alone, even when they said no. That they’ve got a boyfriend. Ya’know what no means, don’t ya?”

Sliding in with an audible squelch, he continues, tutting at the whine you let out.

“Y’wanna know why they were takin’ so long to respond, why they weren’t pickin’ up? ‘Cause we were fuckin,’” the audible spluttering on the other end of the receiver has Atsumu questioning how long he can maintain this facade, playing civil, when he’d rather lay them flat out cold, “I bet, you’ve thought about fuckin’ em too. Haven’t you? Creamin’ yourself over the thought of it, doing sappy shit. I can’t blame ya, I’m the same; but the difference is, I’m the one actually doing it - ya wanna hear it? A little ASMR for ya.”

Thumbing across the circular icon of the ‘speaker’ button, he repositions the mobile directly above the base of his cock, coated in a creamy ring, before dragging his cock back out, resting at the fat slit with a squelch!

Atsumu goes to respond, a petty remark on his lips, but the dial tone that cuts through the line confirms everything.

“I fuckin’ thought as much. Now, where were we, sweetheart?”

[chocopuchino]

cw: SFW, FLUFF

BOKUAKA. BOKKUN AND MSBY <3 I made this in 20 mins, idk shit about motorcycles and streets in english so don't come at me pls (ducati bike looks good) and yes this is the elaboration for my biker bokuto koutarou thought ᕙ⁠(⁠ ⁠ ⁠•⁠ ⁠‿⁠ ⁠•⁠ ⁠ ⁠)⁠ᕗ

MSBY BJ at their prime locker talks but they're flexing their rides. Someone has a Ferrari, someone a Porsche, someone a Lamborghini and the list goes on, until a very intrigued Bokuto chimes in with a smirk, talking over.

"oh, you guys have cars? that's cool! I don't have one, 'cause I ride a motorcycle. :D"

The team immediately whips their head in disbelief to look at Bokuto, who's currently topless and confused at the stares.

"You... you have a motorcycle?" Sakusa asks with uncertainty, pointing a finger at him.

"Seriously, Bokkun? I don't believe ya one bit. You, out of everyone? No way," Atsumu laughs, pulling over a t-shirt on top of him.

"Woah, seriously Bokuto-san? You have a motorcycle? How come? We've never seen it, and we haven't seen you on it!" Hinata questions, and the whole team agrees.

In the span of a moment, from his overly big and messy gym bag, he pulls out a car— no, a key. A black, motorcycle key. with a smidge of red shaped like a shield at the top, silver borders with a strike in between, and the word DUCATI written neatly.

And as much as the men don't want to believe it, they're now suddenly faced to.

"Tadaa! Isn't she just gorgeous?" Bokuto exclaims proudly.

"Isn't... Akaashi-san a boy though?" Hinata asks confusedly.

Practice is over and they're all in front of the gym, seeing how Akaashi parks the bike in front of them, dusting his coat off and fixing his glasses as he makes his way towards him. He politely bows to them.

"Akaashi Keiji, editor in shonen manga magazines in a major publishing company. Bokuto-san had asked me to bring his bike over, so here it is." Akaashi greets calmly, glancing at everyone's faces, smiling a little at seeing Hinata.

"I-I meant the bike. Not Akaashi, but even though it's still true! both things. they're both gorgeous." Bokuto exclaims, hiding his embarrassment and stuttering, his cheeks warming up. He gently pecks Akaashi on the cheek, quite literally shocking the whole team (he forgot to tell them he's dating keiji) and asks once again.

"So, who wants a ride first !!?"

——————

"w-woah!! Bokuto-san, so fast!!!" Shoyo yells, clutching onto Bokuto even tighter. Bokuto leans front, increasing speed, fully focused on the road, not a single sound coming out of him. Shoyo's eyes sparkle at his energetic, loud and owl-like senpai, currently very quiet, serious and very cool looking.

After a quick round around a nearby highway, they're back again In front of the gym, the volleyball team surprised at seeing Shoyo in one piece. (bokuto obliged them to wait, akaashi kept them entertained.)

Shoyo gets off the bike, taking off the helmet, wobbly making his way to the men staring at him, arms dangling off his shoulders, almost able to puke. His hair is a mess after wearing the helmet, while Bokkun's hair looks even spikier. He grips on Atsumu's sleeve and almost collapses, clearing his throat and looking up at him— big shiny stars in his eyes.

"that was super cool!! You have to get on, Bokuto-san is an amazing driver!!! You might not believe me, but he was insanely quiet, he looked so cool and serious too!! I really, really didn't expect him to drive like that!!" Shoyo exclaims, looking over at the other men staring at him in disbelief.

Atsumu's eyes widen and he scoffs, taking Shoyo's hands off his sleeve, making his way towards owl head. "No way, Shoyo can't be serious? You? Quiet? Yeahhhhhhh... Can't believe 'at. Give me a ride and we'll see, yeah?"

the whole of MSBY rode Bokuto's bike that evening, and, never underestimated or didn't believe him ever again.

[basically-an-anime-stan-acct]

Source: Google

I really love this picture! I wish I could find the artist to credit them because this picture is IT ✨

[onceabluemoonwrites]

I'm finally posting my piece from the @msbybjzine! A comedy piece about how Bokuto recruited Hinata! Atsumu may have misunderstood as well... 😂

[starglossie]

CHAPTER SIX OF EIGHT PERCENT PREVIEW: 

“Yeah. You’re all Metas but that doesn’t automatically make you worse than me, or me better than you because I’m a human. We have the same flesh and bones. We’re breathing the same air. Hell, we just spoke for thirty minutes about our favorite bands and exchanged Spotify Playlists.” Iwaizumi gave a half-shrug, “Nothing about that sounds monstrous to me.”

Bokuto’s heart squeezed so tightly he feared it would burst out of his chest, bleed onto the floor, and cover him under a rush of … God. He doesn’t even know how to describe that. He inhaled sharply. The sound was barely audible. How long had it been since someone outside of their little world saw them as themselves? Not a Meta but as Bokuto, Hinata, Atsumu, Sakusa? How long had it been since he looked at someone in the eyes and didn’t see an immediate barrier built? One that screams: YOU ARE NOT WHAT I AM / AND I DO NOT WANT YOU NEAR ME. 

READ CHAPTER SIX HERE

READ FROM CHAPTER ONE HERE

[crazycoke-addict]

Sakusa: I put the packet on the glass

Bokuto: What glass?

Sakusa: the little glass dish in the microwave.

Bokuto: got it

Sakusa: I close the door

Bokuto: which door?

Sakusa (getting frustrated): the door to the microwave!! What is wrong with you?!!

[leafington]

shoyo hinata ⤷ error!

tobio kageyama ⤷ error!

ryunosuke tanaka ⤷ error!

yuu nishinoya ⤷ error!

kei tsukishima ⤷ error!

tadashi yamaguchi ⤷ error!

koshi sugawara ⤷ error!

daichi sawamura ⤷ error!

akiteru tsukishima ⤷ error!

tetsuro kuroo ⤷ error!

kenma kozume ⤷ error!

kiyoomi sakusa ⤷ i still love you.

osamu miya ⤷ error!

atsumu miya ⤷ error!

shinsuke kita ⤷ error!

hitoka yachi ⤷ error!

kiyoko shimizu ⤷ valentine!

saeko ryunosuke ⤷ error!

toru oikawa ⤷ error!

hajime iwaizumi ⤷ error!

keiji akaashi ⤷ error!

koutaro bokuto ⤷ error!

wakatoshi ushijima ⤷ error!

satori tendou ⤷ error!

eita semi ⤷ error!

rintaro suna ⤷ pre-game snack!?

[eightpercentao3]

on april 7, 2013, eight percent of japan's population mutated into metahumans. out of that eight percent, only four men went on to become: the jackals. msby's elite and best group of superpowered agents.

thank you soooo much @h4mmiee for the wonderful art done for this universe!!!!

you can stream eight percent: here

[kkumri]

sleeper build omiomi 😷💪✨

[qtipcottonbuds]

𝙆𝙄𝙉𝙆𝙏𝙊𝘽𝙀𝙍 '𝟮𝟰 ; 𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝙈𝙎𝘽𝙔 𝙅𝘼𝘾𝙆𝘼𝙇𝙎 [MORESOME + BUKKAKE]

m actually really proud of this qofqown, it’s a mess, i had a bit more inspiration as i was a little burnt out >:(( but, i really hope i did i justice trying to work out the friggin positioning @lovinglyselfish​ dis one is for u stonks 

warnings ;; moresome, mild language, double penetration, slight praise kink with degradation, assisted masturbation, bukkake, cumplay, possibly cum eating, marking, slight voyeurism on behalf of one or two of the teammates, belly kink, belly bulge, cumflation sort of, i think thats it for now etc update !!! manager!reader etc

by qtipcottonbuds 2022. do not repost.

𝗠𝗦𝗕𝗬 𝗝𝗔𝗖𝗞𝗔𝗟𝗦 𝗫 𝗚𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥;

“You’re doing so, so well, baby. Servicing the team like this. Taking me, like this.”

Bokuto lies beneath you, on his back, flat atop the bed sheets. 

He’s leaving soft kisses across your temple, running a hand through your hair, threading fingertips through the messy tufts; and you, you’re slumped across his bare chest, fucked out of your mind, babbling incoherent nonsense into his skin. Bokuto can just about make out a few words in-between the slurring, the drawn out phrasing of ‘more, please.’ 

Each thrust, deep-seated and measured, nudges further and farther in, kissing your insides, rubbing up alongside gummy, ribbed walls - in tandem with Atsumu, situated behind you - fat glans, slits weeping, brushing and knocking up against one another.

Abruptly, Atsumu hauls you off from the comfort of Bokuto’s embrace, dragging you upwards by the back of your head. It’s harsh, carnal, and you’re left keening out from the sting. His fingers clench into your hair, tugging on the roots - but, it enables him to keep you stable against his own chest, neck arched, and hands loosely hanging at your sides.

“Messy thing, ain’t ya? An’ Bo, ya can’t hog ‘em all to yourself, sharin’ is carin’, yeah?”

Atsumu swipes the saliva, collecting in the divots of your lips, with his thumb; your chin is decorated in drool, glazing over the skin sloppily, and Atsumu holds his tongue, biting back any crude remarks - it wasn’t as if you were coherent to acknowledge his words. Cognitive functions, or what was left of them, had been rendered temporarily - you, having been reduced to a default of whimpering and airy whines.

“‘Sumu, they do need a little help, y’know? Considering how cock-drunk they are.”

Tilting your head, still lax in his hold, Atsumu guides you to face him, eyeing you carefully, “Ya still in there, ‘lil manager? Too much dick for ya to handle?”

The only response you offer, far from distinguishable, instead jumbled and blurred, is a whine of ‘no.’

You couldn’t even fully register his sentences.

Dismissing the pathetic attempt of an answer, he readjusts his grip in your hair with one hand, the other situated on your hip, Atsumu noses against your jugular, nipping and soothing at the inflamed skin, his eyes meeting with Hinata’s.

“Whaddya think, ‘Sho? Think they need more? Might make ‘em think a ‘lil more clearer.”

Taking the opportunity at the acknowledgement, Hinata wordlessly shoves himself into your chest, burying himself in the heated flesh; lips searching for your nipples, to suckle, to pinch at the buds with his canines, pulling them back and forth teasingly. Rendering them swollen and puffy. 

Fisting his cock, unrestrained and firmly, pulling at the skin, he guides the head of his cock, reddened and engorged, over the material of your loose fitting MSBY Jackals jersey (a personal anniversary gift into your first year of managing the team). It had been discarded onto your lap, caught in-between your thighs.

“Uh-huh, mh- give them more and more and more, Atsumu, wanna give them everything.” 

Whining high in his throat, Hinata muffles himself in your skin, the steady stream of thick pre-cum increasing in volume, bubbling over his slit.

“So needy; it’s embarrassing.” 

Pulling you from Atsumu’s grasp, now having relaxed entirely - his concentration now notably focused on the creamy ring coating both the head and base of his cock, being pushing back and forth with each roll of his hips - Sakusa, kisses you aggressively - there’s no implications of kindness in it whatsoever. It’s pure lust and nothing more.

Biting on your bottom lip, the skin breaking somewhat from the pressure, he takes the incentive to push forward, past your lips; said tongue slides across your teeth, brushing against the divots and crevices, before returning the focus towards your own tongue, sucking harshly. With his palm, Sakusa encases your own hand around his cock, guiding your thumb with his own, to dig into the fat slit, urging more pre-cum to bubble up.

“Hinata’s needy, but you, you’re pathetic,” its murmured, hushed against your lips as he pulls back momentarily, “A so-called, prime example of a manager; a pretty slut to be whored out to the whole team. Maybe, we should do this more often to keep you in check, what do you think?”