#and now haikyuu

[mad-serotonin]

Take It Easy☀️

[reineydraws]

i googled twin tshirts for these clowns' birthday and found a funny set 😂

sending a good hbd to my fave fictional twins 🎂🎂🎂

[kuroosdarling]

‎♡‧₊˚ ꒰ FEATURING ꒱ virgin!atsumu

‎♡‧₊˚ ꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI !! virginity loss, unprotected sex, overstimulation, tsumu and reader fuck each other dumb oops

check out the others here !

"what did ya do to me?” atsumu gasps out, resting his forehead onto yours before he starts moving again.

he can’t help erratically rutting into you, feeling your slick walls coat his cock, driving him further into insanity. the constant pulses your cunt emitted pulls him in a haze, fucking his cum further into you. the way you squeeze him so tightly was going straight to his head, clouding his vision until all he could feel was you.

he never knew it could feel this good. it honestly felt better than any win on the court, higher than any high he’s ever had. something was coursing through his veins, egging him on to push himself as deep as he could into your warm, welcoming cunt.

once you showed him where the clit was, it was game over. he had surprised you, he was a natural. but then again, he was always good at striving to be the best.

and you were being so good for him, laying there and taking it, guiding him with your legs wrapped around his waist. but what else would he expect from his cute manager. the one who had welcomed him to the team with a sweet smile and constant reassurance. he didn’t realize he had gotten any special treatment from you until bokuto commented on it. that’s when he knew you might’ve liked him. and that’s when he decided to make his clumsy move.

it doesn’t matter how many times you’ve cum or how he had already cum, he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. he kept spilling into you while simultaneously spilling out all the feelings he’s kept locked inside. it was like a dam breaking, once it started it couldn’t stop.

“cant believe i’m the one that gets to fuck ya.” he moans in your ear, hips stuttering against you before finding his pace again. the room was filled with the sound of your bodies slapping together, his balls feverishly clapping against your ass.

he knew he sounded whiny — but he didn’t care. not when every fiber of his being was on fire, the amount of pleasure was overwhelming. the overstimulation was starting to bite at him but there was no way he could stop, even if he wanted to. absolutely addicted to the way your body melded with his.

“shit-” you gasp out, clawing more into his back. the sensation of you drawing small scratches into him brought him back down to reality for a moment, letting out a deep groan.

his eyes quickly found yours as he tried to assess if you were feeling as good as he was feeling. but judging by the way those breathy moans and whimpers of his name were flowing out of your mouth, he hoped he was doing a good job. but he needed you to say it.

“does it feel good? when i fuck ya like this?” he pants, leaving open mouth kisses along your throat. his words were laced with insecurity despite his cocky question, absolutely desperate to know the answer.

“feels so good ‘tsumu.” your words slur together. the nickname caught him off guard and pride swells in his chest, driving him to drive into you harder, grabbing your legs and throwing them over his shoulders. the new position angled him deeper, and he knew he was a goner.

“fuck m’gonna cum again.” he panted out, driven by the need to fill you up more. he felt himself getting tired but he didn’t want to stop, not when you were babbling out for him. breathing wasn’t the priority right now, you were. tears pricked along his last line as his hips stuttered into you, trying to push himself all the way past your wall and lodge himself into your heart.

everything with blank for a moment, white filling his vision as he came in spurts, practically moaning out your name as he emptied himself into you. the way your walls were fluttering around him prolonged his orgasm and he could barely hold on, roughly gripping onto your waist as his lifeline.

but he wasn’t done.

after cumming twice already, overstimulation was ripping into him, the pain shooting directly into his tip. but the pleasure easily outweighed it. especially with the way your slick walls were clinging onto his cock, almost as desperate for him as he was for you. he knew he had another one left in him.

the two of you were drenched in sweat and who knows what else. but he had never seen you look more beautiful as you laid under him, pulling at him for more. his cock twitched at the sight, and he was more than ready to deliver what you both craved.

[beybuniki]

captains

[renardiererin]

tattoo artist!suna who uses his surprising strength to keep your legs spread open with his head a little bit too close to your pussy as he presses the ink into the spot on your inner thigh you requested

tattoo artist!suna whose breathing gets heavier everytime you whimper at the pain of the needle

tattoo artist!suna who “accidentally” runs his fingertips lightly over your nipples when you come back in the next week saying you want a tattoo under your boob

tattoo artist!suna who holds you tightly by your throat when you say you want a tattoo on your collarbone

tattoo artist!suna who puts his thumb on your bottom lip and pulls it down with a light pinch of the flesh when you say you want a tattoo on the inside of your bottom lip

“this is gonna hurt a bit, pretty. you sure you’re ready?”

tattoo artist!suna who can barley contain himself when you realize the pain of a lip tattoo was worse than you expected, as you wrap your hands in his hair and tense every muscle in your body.

tattoo artist!suna who- once you’re dating, and have gotten used to him giving you random little tattoos at home all the time- will hold a pretty vibrator in your dripping pussy, overstimulating you and your pretty clit until you’re crying and shaking as he tells you to stay still so he can finish the tattoo on the back of your thigh

“stay still, doll face, i can’t fuck this up. the more you shake, the harder it is to ink you up”

tattoo artist!suna who happily engraves his name in your thigh, opposite of the spot where he gave you your first tattoo that time when he wanted so badly to take off your little shorts and dive into your pretty pussy right then.

tattoo artist!suna who now knows you’re his and his only, and can fulfill the fantasies that once clouded his brain.

tattoo artist!suna who forces patience out of himself so that first thing when he’s done writing his name on your thigh he can slide off your thin underwear and tell you for the thousandth time about how to take care of a new tattoo in between licks up your pussy, until he’s done and can finally tonguefuck his pretty girl into orgasm.

[avenoirn]

after school cat cafe visit

my full piece for @phreinne 's hq cookbook! leftovers are now open until august 23 :)

[emmyrosee]

She got her quiet sneaking in from you.

Kenma’s fingers tap roughly on the controller in his hands, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in focus. He’s died four times to this monster, its shrieks of agony scaring him once embarrassingly in front of his chat, the other three deaths because, now that he’s past being scared, Kenma realizes what a damn hard boss this is.

“Chat, I’m telling you right now, if I see this dev in the streets, I’m taking a crowbar to their knee caps- this is a promise, not a warniIIIIIIING!”

He lurches from the gentle tug of his elbow, heart sinking to his chest in complete fear and acceptance that this is it for him, he’s dead. His arm is ripped away from the source, but when he hears a tiny gasp in fear, Kenma’s heart beats calmly again.

“Daddy okay?” Maesi asks, and kenma pauses the game to turn to her.

“You startled me baby,” he teases, and she blocks up at him with doe eyes to coax him to forgive her. As if she really needs to do that. “But what’s up beautiful?” He asks, putting down his controller and stretching. “How are you, angel?”

Maesi hums and passes her father the plate, her eyes peering up at him timidly- a trait he wants to blame on you, but every time, he’s met with a cocked eyebrow from you. “Want french fry?”

Kenma chuckles and nods, “I mean, you know I’m never gonna say no to fries,” he says, reaching down to grab the lukewarm fry from her tiny plastic plate. God knows how long they’ve been out, at least four hours; but that doesn’t stop kenma from letting his little girl take care of him in her own way. “You wanna be in daddy’s stream? Say hi to chat?” When she nods, Kenma lifts her up and into his lap, and once done, he reaches over to pick up another fry. In his headphones, Kenma hears that he got a donation.

Thank you kuroosassscheek for gifted 75 subs: hey Kenma there’s something behind you

“Thank you, Kuroo,” he scoffs. “Spawn, say hi to chat and uncle Tetsu.”

“Hi chat, hi uncle Tetsu,” she hums shyly, and Kenma kisses her temple around his chewing. “What playin’?”

“Daddy’s playing a scaaaary game,” he says, voice hiked slightly while he gasps. Maesi giggles before passing him another fry, which he takes quickly.

“Gonna have nightmare,” she warns.

Kenma raises his brows in agreement, “mommy’s gonna have to tuck me in.”

“Me too,” she mumbles, curling into Kenma’s hoodie, nose burrowing into his neck and tickling his skin slightly. “Play Star Valley?” She asks.

He hugs her tightly with a fake groan of effort, and she giggles happily, “you want to watch daddy play Stardew Valley?”

“Yeah..”

“Does mumma know you’re in here?”

Maesi is quiet- he chuckles and shakes his head, letting her get comfortable against him. He knows you’re not far, probably asleep on the couch, and Kenma prepares himself to potentially have to carry his two sleeping babies to bed.

“Alright- one second chat,” he says simply, grabbing his controller to change the game to the easy, calming game Maesi loves to watch him play. “We’ll pick that up tomorrow. Gotta protect myself from nightmares.”

Once again, Maesi lets out a little laugh; she tucks her face as close as she can to him, only shifting to grab another fry to munch on. He tips his head slightly again, to plant a kiss on the crown of her head, the soothing music in his headphones gets placed on her head, and before kenma can start any of his tasks, he feels Maesi’s breathing even out, her plate of fries and nuggets placed somewhere on the desk for him to take.

And that’s okay. He’ll play for a while, just in case she wakes up, and he’ll let her sleep in confidence in her fathers arms. Kenma’s pleased as the numbers in his stream doesn’t immediately drop: it stays, even now as it’s been hijacked by the one he loves most.

This 🥺🩷

[hinata-boke]

Drawing a randomly generated Haikyuu character (almost) every day until I give up

67. Hinata Shoyo

[owlyflufff]

if bokuto teaching volleyball to little kids can become canon then bokuto and akaashi getting married, living the best domestic life and still loving each other at the tender age of 130 years old can become canon too

[luvring]

THE MOST ATTRACTIVE PERSON IN THE ROOM

timeskip iwaizumi x gn!reader ft. msby + osamu, akaashi | 1.5k words, swearing, implied alcohol, suggestive?

“okay, iwaizumi, i dare you to…” hinata drawls, tapping the wooden floor beneath him—the beat of the song that he’s gotten stuck in everyone’s heads today, you note.

“hmmm….”

“this is why we can’t play truth or dare with you, shoyo.” atsumu groans, though there’s a lopsided smile that accompanies it, before taking a sip of his drink. condensation drips down the side and he wipes it with the sleeve of his jacket.

“as if you didn’t steal my dare idea last turn!”

“can’t steal somethin’ that was never yours in the first place.”

“huh? i literally said it out loud.”

“i thought it before y’said it.”

“what?!”

“holy shit, get back to the dare.” osamu snorts and throws a pillow at their heads. “’m gonna have to retire by the time hinata comes up with 3 syllables.”

you laugh softly from your spot on the couch above. hajime snickers next to you, his arm hanging loosely above you.

not around you, of course. just above, on the couch, close enough to brush your head every time you lean a little too far back—which is why you’ve curled further into the edge instead, feet tucked under the throw blanket you had gifted hinata a few months earlier.

emboldened by the conversation as distraction, you let your eyes shift to loom at him. his cheeks are flushed, and eyes crinkled as he watches his team in amusement. there’s an almost empty drink in his left hand, more clinking ice than beverage. but he brings it to his lips to take another sip, and you watch, and you wish you could stop watching, but your eyes seem fixated on his lips as they meet the edge of his glass, and the way his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.

the sound of bickering is muffled, and you should look away, really, it’d be embarrassing if he caught you, but he’s scratching the side of his neck, and he looks really good, and—

“okay, fine, iwaizumi.” hinata brings your focus back to the room and stares with sudden determination. “i dare you to kiss the most attractive person in the room.”

the two stare at each other. no immediate snarky remark or laughter follows.

you blink.

you think everyone blinks, actually.

your eyes flicker to hajime again, and you watch his mouth again, though this time it opens and closes twice, three times, as if words would appear if it silently lured them. “...i—what?”

“pfft—”

“don’t feel like getting kissed tonight, sorry, bro. alright, bo, you’re up next, right?”

“oh! yeah, wait, we’re skipping iwa?”

“oh, shut up, ’tsumu, like yer dumbass is the most attractive person in here.”

“i am, actually. objectively, even.”

“you have a twin, atsumu.”

“not seein’ your point here ’kaashi?”

“y’callin’ me ugly?”

“technically jus’ less attractive, but yeah, yer ugly.”

“guys,” you warn. you think bokuto’s still confused on who’s turn it is, while osamu’s put his drink down and sitting up straighter. “drop it. and hajime, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“yeah, but you’ll have to take a shot,” atsumu interjects.

“thought you as the self-proclaimed ‘most attractive person’ were gonna stop him anyway. was he supposed t’drink a shot if he picked ya?”

“no, we would’ve both taken shots.”

hajime raises a brow. “what? as the guy who’s supposed to have the dare—what the hell kind of logic is that? you know what—”

he lets out an exasperated sigh and moves his arm from behind you to rest on his thigh. and it’s not like it was touching you in the first place, but the vacancy makes the back of your neck feel a little colder. “fuck it, i’m tipsy enough.”

“fine, y’can kiss my cheek—”

“i’m not kissing you, atsumu,” hajime just less than growls.

atsumu puts his hands up in surrender while hinata snickers, and you think osamu’s building up to an “i told you so,” but you’re too busy watching the man next to you to really know.

there’s tension in his shoulders as he places his glass on his coaster—one of two that have actually been used, the other drinks leaving rings of water in their place. it’s a wonder that hinata has any in the first place.

your eyes move from his leg that’s started to bounce, to his hands that start to fiddle with the watch on his wrist, and then his mouth where he bites a lip.

and then they move up again, just a little higher, to his eyes—

which are already set on you.

neither of you say anything. but then his eyes flicker down to your lips, and a quick heat builds in your face, your ears, your neck. something in you thinks it must be a joke, but hajime’s already flushed face turns more red, and the (big) part of you that has a crush on him is just a little happy it seems to be because of you.

there’s no time to process that further though, his silence is enough to get the attention of the others anticipating his choice.

atsumu only looks between the both of you for a second before clapping his hands together. “ohh, ohoho—”

“ooh, iwa!”

“huh? ohh—”

“can you guys be normal for 2 minutes?” sakusa sighs and leans back into his chair, deciding to stare at the ceiling instead of his teammates if only for a moment. “and if you two are going to kiss, can you do it faster before my brain shuts down?”

“rude.”

hajime ignores them and clears his throat before facing you properly, shifting so one leg is propped on the couch underneath him. taking it as your cue, you sit up and collect your blanket to one side.

the room hasn’t been this quiet since you arrived first and offered to help set up. but it isn’t suffocating—the quiet is a buzz, and seems to sit in anticipation just as much as you.

“can i?” hajime asks softly.

you nod, your only hesitation is in wondering if he’s serious.

but even a little hesitation is enough. his lips purse, and a concerned crinkle appears between hajime’s brows that you almost want to reach to smooth out, its existence, you promise, unnecessary. he says your name. “seriously, we don’t have to if you don’t feel comfortable.”

you’re shaking your head before he’s done his sentence. “it’s okay, haji.”

“ooh, haji—”

“shuddup, ’tsumu.”

“is it weird i feel awkward watching this?”

“aw, c’mon, ’ji, they’re cute.”

the conversation is an odd comfort as it dulls the sharp attention on you, the tension your body seems to hold everywhere.

hajime moves closer, shrinking the gap between you until your legs touch and you can count the inches between you on two hands. his cologne is easy to notice, and you wish you could pinpoint the fragrant notes, maybe write them down in your head to look for later. (you wonder if that's a weird thing to do.)

the lips your eyes had lingered on maybe a dozen times just tonight are a lot easier to watch as his tongue pokes out to lick them. subconsciously, you do the same.

then a hand comes up, hesitates before finding place on your cheek, and you let yourself lean into its touch. it’s odd—how you wished the arm behind you on the couch would accidentally move a little closer just a few minutes ago, and now your face is being held instead. you wonder if you could ever get used to it.

for a split (embarrassing) second, you even let yourself wonder what it would be like to wake up to the same touch and owner in bed beside you.

hajime looks at you, and you smile when your eyes lock. and maybe it’s your own drink kicking in, but you reach for his free hand to lace your fingers in between his as you nod once more, look at his lips one more time.

his chest rises as he takes a deep breath.

“seriously, guys, if ya don’t kiss already ’samu’s gonna start going bald.”

“the fuck?”

you can’t help the laugh that escapes you or the warm breath that hits hajime’s skin, nor can you fully get rid of the smile on your face as hajime murmurs what sounds like a “for fuck’s sake,” beneath one of his own and leans in.

and then he kisses you.

and you think there’s cheering, clapping and something about losing a bet on who’d kiss who first.

but it doesn’t matter—not while you’re finally finding out how soft hajime’s lips are, while his grip on your hand tightens, while his thumb rubs your skin and fingers moves closer to the back of your neck to pull you closer, closer.

your free hand comes to wrap around his shoulder, and he lets go of the other to reach around your back. somewhere in the back of your head you wonder how long (how deep?) a kiss is acceptable in front of an audience, but you can hear, feel, hajime take a deep breath as he pulls you close enough that his chest is pressed against yours, and you think the others can look away themselves when it’s too much—there’s someone more important to you.

me after writing atsumu myself: wow he's so funny silly stupid 🫶 mann i don’t necessarily Want to know about perfumes and alcohol until i’m writing a fic and go ah. what the hell is a good scent. like girl what is Cedarwood ? not everyone can smell like..mint and vanilla. and how am i supposed to know what this guy would drink when all i’ve had is soju with raspberry gingerale / mango concentrate. which is rlly good btw. yummy...

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[kuroosdarling]

kuroo loves to sleep with his face smushed in the crook of your neck.

it doesn’t start off this way though. he always insists on having you tucked in his arms when you guys first lay down for bed. but sometime during the night, it all shifts.

in the morning you find his wild hair tickling your face, his arms securely wrapped around your waist with his head burrowing into the juncture between your collarbone and throat — his soft snores filling your ears.

when he wakes, he can’t help but lazily smile against your skin, placing sloppy kisses against it as he makes his way up to face you, rasping out the gentlest “good morning sweetheart.”

[omi-boshi]

big scary olympic athlete sakusa kiyoomi yelling for you in the other room with so much urgency you find yourself rushing over in worry thinking he got into an accident. only to see your big scary olympic athlete husband crouching on the chair with his eyes tracking the movement of a tiny cockroach. "please help me," he would plead breathlessly, hands posed to shield himself from the offensive bug and you would be rolling your eyes in fond exasperation as you make your way over.

"it's just a tiny bug, omi. it's not gonna kill you." you'd say, about to stomp on the tiny cockroach when it suddenly jerks and flies directly towards you. it's almost hilarious how the color drains so fast from both your faces - if only it wasn't a life or death situation. both of you scream in unison and with the adrenaline pumping through your veins, you run up to kiyoomi and he immediately catches you with a grunt before he starts sprinting all the way out of the room, both of you spitting out strings of curses in your panic.

he brings you both to the couch and now, it's you and your big scary olympic athlete husband clutching each other for dear life, as you argue over who's going to kill the big scary cockroach.

[foxhouse]

rewatching haikyuu recently…

[axoqiii]

hug your bros

[chimielie]

what it is

summary: Oikawa x Reader. he makes it out of the friendzone (with some help)

word count: 1.3k

cw: nothing, oikawa in glasses

a/n: i wrote this in under an hour while heavily caffeinated?;!;!4& brain melting

“You’re late,” you say with a grin. Oikawa Tooru pouts at you, his team jacket folded over his arms. He’s already changed out of uniform, you notice; must have exchanged it for a white t-shirt and slacks in the locker room.

“I was swarmed,” he claims as the two of you start to walk together. You roll your eyes and don’t even bother making a jab about his popularity with the girls (and people of all genders, really). At this point, you’ve accepted that deranged fans come with the territory of being friends with the volleyball team captain.

You met Oikawa on the first day of your first year at Aoba Johsai and had been friends ever since. Even though you had no interest in the sport at first, his love for volleyball was infectious. He had even roped you into being the team’s manager. You still weren’t sure how he had pulled that off, but you didn’t mind too much—you’d grown to love the team and the sport too, in your own way.

Despite your closeness, you’d never really understood why he had a fan club, especially as a teenage school athlete. You expected his popularity to grow when (not if) he went professional, but the idea of swooning over some guy you had pre-calculus classes with was totally foreign to you. It was a running joke among your friends that you were immune to Oikawa’s looks and charming magnetism (and, honestly, to all four of the team’s upperclassmen. You could acknowledge how objectively attractive they all were even though none of them seemed to fit your niche).

Sometimes, you caught Oikawa making strange expressions while your friends teased you about not liking him. It felt like you were the only one who noticed these kinds of things, sometimes. You really liked being able to read him so easily: both of you had saved each other under the contact name “Platonic Soulmate” in your phones.

You chalked up the weird faces to your friend’s first-rate ego, and even though you knew that the notion of one person not being desperately in love with him wouldn’t scratch the surface of his self-esteem, you always found yourself taking his hand surreptitiously or leaning your head on his shoulder when you did see him looking mopey. He always perked up, after that, and all would be sunshine again.

Today, everyone else had bailed on you when you suggested a joint ice-cream-and-study-date before next week’s exams. Iwaizumi had claimed that Oikawa was too loud and always distracted him, so he couldn’t seriously try to study together. Matsukawa had to babysit and refused to bring the brats, as he affectionately called his siblings, to get sweets. Hanamaki had just quirked his eyebrows at you and said, “I don’t feel like third wheeling. Thanks, but no thanks.”

You hadn’t really understood what he meant, but you hadn’t questioned it.

Oikawa had almost begged off to do some solo practice, too, but you’d made a fuss about nearing the end of your high school experience and worrying that you would fall out of touch when volleyball became his whole life (even moreso than it was now!), and he’d caved with an overdramatic sigh and a soft look that told you he wasn’t all that mad about your guilt-tripping.

You’re broken from your thoughts when you reach the ice-cream shop, Oikawa jabbering in your ear about some drama you can’t keep up with.

“And then she told me—ah, I can’t read the menu. You know, they were late refilling my contact prescription this month, so I’ve been carrying around my glasses, I hate it. So unflattering.”

You worry your lip as you stare at the flavor chart, barely listening to him talk.

“I’m sure it’s,” you start, turning to him as he slides the case out of his pocket and puts the frames on his face in a smooth motion. “Um.”

The glasses are not unflattering, you think dumbly, staring at him, your sentence hanging unfinished. The glasses perch on his nose perfectly, making you appreciate, for the first time, the shape of his nose and his cheekbones. Had they always been that sharp? And since when had his eyes been so pretty, reflecting the sunlight in so many shades, framed with long eyelashes that would have made you jealous if you weren’t so—

You reach out and lift the glasses off his face slowly, hoping that the old, familiar features that you’d never felt anything but friendship-friendly feelings towards would return. You can still see it, though: the divot of his Cupid’s bow is appealing, now, his smooth skin glowing to you, his surprised expression fucking adorable. You drop the frames back onto his nose.

Very abruptly, whatever immunity you once had to Oikawa’s looks is demolished in one fell swoop.

“I have to go have a midlife crisis,” you say decisively, and march out of the shop.

“Hey! What—where are you going? You’re not even middle-aged?” Oikawa calls after you, and you try steadfastly to ignore him, but every sense seems to have been awakened to your friend. Your face flushes, and you start walking faster, nearing the pace of a jog even though your limbs are stiff.

You finally pull over in a quieter, slightly more secluded spot between two buildings. You lean against the wall, closing your eyes, trying to remind yourself to take deep breaths.

“Are you okay?” Oikawa says, and you curse his long, athlete legs for having followed you so swiftly. “What’s wrong?”

You open your eyes. He’s still wearing the fucking glasses. Rest in peace, you think to yourself, surely my heart is going to give up soon, at the rate it’s going. Your lips part, but you can’t seem to get the words out. His worried gaze studies you until he finds something—exactly whatever you didn’t want him to see. A slow smile unfurls over his face, and you narrow your eyes. Ugh, how dare his smugness be attractive too, now?

“I should wear the glasses more often, huh?” He says, and you shake your head no frantically.

“Please don’t,” you say. “It’s, like, it doesn’t even matter anymore, anyway, I can’t unsee it now.”

“Unsee what?” He cocks his head, and he’s getting closer, and there’s nowhere to back away from him because you’re up against a wall—

“You’re hot!” You wail. “I saw it and I’m never gonna stop thinking it now, it doesn’t even matter what you wear, I’m doomed! This is the worst thing ever, ‘Kawa, how’m I supposed to go on… I can’t be your friend and a part of your fan club. I don’t think I can even be a part of your fan club ‘cause I don’t just think you’re hot, I think I have a crush on you—oh, my God, I have a c—”

Your increasingly frantic rambling is cut off by Oikawa sealing his lips to yours. The kiss is quick and sweet, and when he pulls away he still looks so, so handsome, and so concerned.

“Please breathe,” he says, and you nod, gaping at him in shock. “I like you too, okay? Please stop having a crisis.

“Okay,” you exhale, bracing your hands on his shoulders. “Okay. I’m still freaking out, though. I think the only way to stop it is to keep kissing me.”

Oikawa heaves a big, overdramatic sigh, and leans in, his glasses bumping your face; giving in to you, just like he always does.

[renardiererin]

rintarou suna who carefully planned out your entire wedding and how he would propose to you after dating you for three months

rintarou suna who lets you help babysit his younger sister and looks at you as if his eyes are hearts bulging out of his head at how good you are with kids and thinks to himself how badly he wants to have a family with you someday

rintarou suna who rubs your back and hums your favorite songs and strokes your hair when hes trying to help you sleep

rintarou suna who swears he loves you more than anything measurable- more than the entire universe x10 and back- because he says you saved him

rintarou suna who offers to let you wear his clothes when you’re sad, hoping that it’ll cheer you up to be engulfed in his clothes, seeing as he’s more than twice your size

rintarou suna who knows you’re indecisive and will pick things for you if you truly can’t decide, but will base his choices on what he knows you secretly want more

rintarou suna who carries random offbrand fruity candy assortments in his pocket like a grandma to share with you and his friends

rintarou suna who vowed to protect you from the metaphorical monsters in your head from the day you met all the way to adding it in to his wedding vows as he slides the ring on your finger- the ring he picked out the second he knew you were the one, which in his case was after about 5 months into the relationship

rintarou suna who paints portraits of you but always gets upset that they “never truly captivate your complete and total beauty”

rintarou suna who daydreams about running off to the south of france with you to open a small flower shop where your shared apartment rests on the upstairs of your shop, with a good view so he can sit at his canvas and paint the scenery and know he’s only there because of you

rintarou suna who said “i love you i love you i love you” in the very first letter he ever wrote for you, resulting in saying the pretty words three times in a row becoming a regular inside thing for the two of you that nobody gets but you two

rintarou suna who started by only wanting one kid, having to be heavily convinced to have a second (because you don’t want the first to be lonely), but after you crack him and get him to agree to a second kid he wants a third and a fourth and a fifth and three cats and a dog and a snake because he wants to raise everything with you because life is short and he wants to live it with you and only you

rintarou suna who builds you beautiful minecraft builds, complete with chests filled to the brim of books he’s thoroughly typed out with all of his love and thoughts spilled on every page

rintarou suna who runs up to you in minecraft just to deliver you a pretty flower he picked because he thinks it’ll match your eyes

rintarou suna who was emotionally numb when he met you because of everything he’d been going through at home, but knew you were the one he wanted for the rest of his life the second he laid eyes on you and realized that you made him feel something- which was an occurrence that hadn’t happened in years

“you made me feel again, love. i never thought i would be able to do that.”

rintarou suna who lets you play games on his phone and trusts you with his life, who would never ever let go of you in a million years because he wants you for himself until the end of time because he simply can’t risk losing you

rintarou suna who buys you rings and diamond necklaces and clothes and the most absurdly expensive gifts just for the purpose of wanting to spoil you rotten

rintarou suna who loves you too much to ever leave without telling you how much he loves you. he won’t shower or go to practice or go to the bathroom or leave to go to the kitchen or hang up the facetime without telling you what to mean to him

rintarou suna who loves you no matter what, and will keep it that way until the end of time…

no matter what it takes <3