#osamu imagines

[dokifluffs]

How They Would Take Care of Their Sick Kids | Sakusa, Osamu

Pairings: Sakusa X Reader (female), Osamu X Reader (female)

Genre: good ol' domestic dad fluff heheheeh

tutuwusworld asked: Hi!! Glad you’re back here💗So I was thinking about is how (mainly Osamu), and Sakusa would take care of their sick child and the different ways of them comforting their kids💗

Author's Note: hehehe hi and thanks! I like being back heheh it forces me to write, which also helps me improve and get back to things hehe!

as much as he hated germs, he hated seeing his baby/ babies being sick and suffering

which ig would make him despise germs even more tbh

since they made his bb/ bbs (baby/ babies) sick

he would be gentle with them, and take care of them even if it meant getting his hands and himself dirty

but anything for his bb/ bbs

when it first happened where his bb/ bbs got sick, he rushed them to the hospital, insisting that they stayed there until his bb/bbs were better

he had the doctors and nurses on speed dial

but now this second time around, he was more ready having learned from the first time

he would be on a tight routine to change them out of any sweaty clothes, tucking them in, changing their cooling forehead patches

making fresh food with scrubbed clean ingredients

everything

if his bb or bbs couldn't sleep, you bet he would hold them close

he would make sure is body warmth was also keeping them warm too

cradling them, rocking them, rubbing their little backs until they were sound asleep

he didn't mind doing the extra laundry if it meant that they actually got rest and they slept

even just a short nap

as soon as they were sound asleep, this mans would be whipping out his steamer, steaming all high-touch surfaces like their toys, door handles, and tables, cleaning and disinfecting everything

but at night, he was also on high alert

even when you were home to take care of them and when you took his turn to watch over them, he insisted on staying with you

The two of you sat at the ends of their low cribs in your guys' bedroom and just watched the two of them sleep side by side in their own crib in the low light of the bedroom, the sound machine playing the soft sound of waves washing against a shore

tucked in, wearing their matching little pjs

"they seem to be doing better," you spoke in a soft voice to your husband as he sat beside you, his hand resting on your lower back, fingers drawing random small shapes against your soft skin, his chin resting on your shoulder

"mmhm," he agreed with you, nodding gently into your shoulder

his eyes glanced back and forth watching them slightly move every now and then

he never thought that one day, such small human beings would mean the world and everything beyond to him

he would some nights, depending on how his bbs were throughout the day, would stay up later or sleep less so he could watch over them, sitting right beside them at their cribs

he would be right beside them, helping their little immune systems fight off these bad germs

Warning! Spoilers to what osamu does post-time skip!

You know this mans was feeding his family good stuff

like when you were pregnant with your little buns (what samu thought they looked like when they were born)

you ate the best foods

you were surprised how you were able to push such plump little buns out of you, 2 of them as a matter of fact

but they were very healthy

over the years, their plumpness became proportionate to their bodies as they grew

now they were able to balance and walk, they started running, playing outside, building their immunes

that was until something apparently had been going around while they were at daycare

and some parent still brought their child in, even though they were very sick and it spread to your guys' little buns

the two of you were mostly calm

took them to the doctors the first thing a fever was detected

making sure they were drinking plenty of fluids and samu was their personal chef

he knew what each of his bbs liked and made sure they both got their nutrients and all the other good stuff

he seemed calm on the outside but he did have a subtle, consistent wave of worry

he would think about the worst-case scenarios and work harder to make sure the foods and soups they were going to eat would be the best

but over time as you saw progress in their recovery, you were able to wipe away his worries without even knowing they were there

"Look who woke up a bit early and wanted to see you," he turned at the stove, hearing the sound of your voice approaching as you walked into the kitchen

you held the younger twin in your arms, the twin that did seem clingier with him but he didn't mind at all

he loved his bbs equally

the little one turned their body and reached toward him upon seeing him

Osamu was used to this

before they were sick, he would hold one while cooking - mainly something simple like stirring a pot

nothing dangerous

he would give them little samples of what he was making, always blowing the spoon or spatula like crazy before feeding them

he wasn't gonna burn his bbs

during baths and put-downs for naps and sleep at night, he always made sure to cuddle his bbs

he knew they were just gonna get bigger from here

after baths were his favorite time

they smelled so clean and fresh in their little pjs

he lay right in between their two little bodies as they hugged his head, cuddling with him

he laid with them until they were fast asleep, listening to the soft chimes of the lullaby gifted from osamu's grandmother

"stay small," he whispered to them, pressing kisses to their heads before slowly rising, and tucking them into their cribs

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

[quirrrky]

—03. LEAVE ME LOVING YOU

『MASTERLIST』 PREV • NXT »

SAMU disguised himself as his brother to save you from embarrassment, but what should be just for a day ended up in more. How long could he keep hiding behind his brother's shadow?

secret admirer, unrequited love? timeskip, mini-series

baby, there's no drug quite like denial

The whistle blared through the gymnasium. It’s Inarizaki’s last game with the neighboring school for the present school year. The third years’ focus was on the game because it would be the last game they’d be playing for the rest of their high school life, but Samu had his mind elsewhere. 

You encountered him and Tsumu together the other day, yet you just played it cool. Your eyes were filled with astonishment and confusion but then you smiled through it saying, “Oh, there’s two Miya-san now.” You excused yourself afterwards and left everything hanging in the air. Earlier during lunch time, you still hung out with him on the rooftop. It was like nothing happened. 

The ball approached his way and he’s quick to toss it right back. The crowd cheered yet Samu didn’t care much less notice. His attention involuntarily shifted to you among the sea of people in the bleachers, and you looked back at him, smiling at a distance. Shyly, he averted his gaze in a snap.  

Have you found out that he’s just disguising as Tsumu all along or do you still think that he’s his twin? 

“Geez, bro. What’re ya bein’ shy for? It’s our last days in school.” Tsumu teased—a big grin was on his face as he saw the ball comin’ for him. “If ya already have the chance...” He leaped and passed the ball directly to his brother. “Ya, better take it!”  

Samu slammed the ball with precise strength and it landed straight on the opponent’s court, earning them their winning point before the time ended.   

Their schoolmates cheered while Tsumu screamed, claiming their final win in Inarizaki.  

ೀ ‧ ˚ 🍙 ⊹˚. ♡

It’s early in the morning when you headed to the pool. You were the one assigned in your class to clean up as part of your graduation turnover. They said a representative from Class 1 would also be there to help you and you were welcomed with a familiar figure. 

“M-Miya-san?” Your eyes were wide with surprise. He looked right in your direction. “Oh, sorry. I just...I just don’t know which Miya-san it is right now though.” 

Seeing you looking at him like that made him a little flustered. Rubbing the back of his neck, he informed you, “Samu...it’s Samu.” 

A prim smile spread across your face. “Samu...” 

It was as if time stopped while his heart drummed against his ear when he finally heard his name from your lips. 

“What do we have here?’ you asked, shifting your weight on your feet back and forth.  

“I’m almost done. We just have to rinse the soap,” he pointed to the pool’s surface, while prepping up the water hose. “I got this. Ya can go ahead.” 

“No, I’ll help you,” you took the water hose from him, your hand slightly touching his. He was feeling extra nervous now that he’s being just himself, but he didn't want to be anyone else around you. “Let’s do this together.”  

He turned the faucet on, and the water instantly blasted on you. “Y/N!” Samu immediately twisted it off. You were doused from head to toe. Both looking at each other, you turned the faucet on again, now completely soaking him too in retaliation.  

You both burst into laughter until Samu tried snatching the hose from you, but you’re never letting him get his way. You ran around the side of the pool, attempting to steal the water hose from each other which drenched the both of you even more instead. 

Your little moment of fun was interrupted by the roaring thunder. Sharing a glance, you both chortled until the skies showered. With the hose in one hand, Samu held yours in another as you ran through the rain towards the changing area. His grip on your hand was firm, careful not to let you slip.  

Finally getting under a shaded area, you picked up on your breathing. Remembering that you still had your phone in your pocket, you took it out and flipped it open. It’s dead.  

Samu snickered. Uncannily, his laughter sounded so soft and comforting in your ear. His eyes rested on your bewildered gaze, holding it for a while. His expression was filled with tenderness you couldn’t fathom but it made you happy. His Adam's apple bobbed as his eyes turned a little half-lidded. He was inching close to you, and you felt your toes tipping towards him. You could almost feel his breath with how near he was. Your eyelids were triggering to close, until a sneeze came through you.  

“Are ya alright? Do ya have a spare shirt?” 

The coldness of the rain got you shivering. With your arms around your frame, easing the freeze out, you shook your head dismissively.  

“Hold on,” Samu quickly went inside the boys’ changing room and came out with a spare shirt. You looked at him querulously. “I have extra. Go ahead, change. I’ll take it from here,” he reassured, and you heeded his advice, taking the black shirt from his hand.  

The rain soon subsided, and you emerged from the girls’ changing room wearing his Inarizaki jersey. You turned to him with a beautiful smile, and at that moment, he realized that you probably had the power to stop time, his lungs and his heart all at the same time. 

Samu gulped, dryly.  

It was a little big on you, but you looked in it. His number printed on it made it seem like you were made to carry every bit of him. It was made for you. He was made for you. He shook the thought away, or at least, he tried.  

“Thank you, Miya-san.” You tapped your head as if you committed a mistake. “S-Samu! Samu!” You blushed. What’s with his name that was making you so anxious and fidgety? “M-Miya S-Samu-san-" You sneezed and he lightly chuckled.  

“Y/N!” A classmate called out to you. “It’s time for our next class already.” 

“Oh!” you hastily bowed before him, a little nervous to show your face, scared that you’d embarrass yourself even more.” 

Samu watched as you left.  

If you already have the chance, you better take it. Tsumu’s words echoed through him.  

Eventhough you were calling him by his name just now, he still couldn’t differentiate where Miya-san ends and where does Samu begin. 

ೀ ‧ ˚ 🍙 ⊹˚. ♡

With a bento in tow, Samu quietly entered the clinic. He asked for the nurse on duty who happily assisted him towards the infirmary. 

He slid open the curtain covering the bed where you were resting. You’re sleeping so soundly but your expression gave away how feverish you were.  

He was supposed to tell you everything clearly, but when he went to the rooftop, there was not a single trace of you there. He stopped by your classroom and one of your classmates informed him that you went to the clinic. 

Seated on the stool beside you, he took out the bento he prepared for your lunch, just as usual, and left it atop the bedside table.  

You looked so peaceful, and cozy all tucked in the blanket. He could watch you like this for hours and hours long. His hand reached out for your face. You felt hot to the touch due to being drenched by the poolside a while ago.  

Warmth fluttered inside his chest as he studied your features. His finger ran through your lashes and skimmed through your fluffy cheek, thumb tracing your lower lip.  

Samu kept fighting the feelings arising deep within him. He convinced himself that this would be nothing more, but here he was unable to stop the back of his hand from stroking your soft cheeks lovingly. He thought it was gonna be just for a day yet he always chose to be beside you. He told himself that he’s alright with remaining behind his brother's shadow if it meant extending the time he had with you.  

A scoff escaped from him. How foolish. 

The school bell rang, signifying the end of the lunch period and prompting Samu to stand from his seat. However, you held his hand, stopping him on his tracks and not letting him go just yet. 

“M-Miya-san...” you murmured.  

Samu was tempted to stay, but his reflection in the nearby mirror was eating him up. His stomach twisted, unsatisfyingly. He’s wearing the shirt his twin lent him and while they wore the same size, Tsumu’s number imprinted on the jersey he’s wearing punched a cruel reminder. 

If you already have the chance, you better take it. 

Would you still accept who’s beneath his facade? Would you see past his mask?   

ೀ ‧ ˚ 🍙 ⊹˚. ♡

Atsumu stretched his arms. His action was paired with a satisfying yawn. “At last, no more wakin’ up early in the mornin’.” He turned to his brother whose mind seemed to be elsewhere. “Hey, hey...don’tcha worry now, ya can still dance with yer girl. We’ll get back in time for the graduation dance.” 

“What?” Samu finally snapped from his musings. 

“Hey! Don’t tell me ya forgot! Ya promised to go with me to the sports camp! It’s our last one ever,” he reminded. “It’s only for a few days then we go back, take her to dance with ya and then we graduate the next.” 

Samu’s eyes widened. That meant he won’t get to see you and he wasn’t even able to let you know about it. 

“Oh...” Tsumu picked it up quite easily. The look on his brother’s was a dead giveaway. “Hmm...ya borrowed my shirt, right?” 

“Already gave it to ya,” Samu replied a little annoyed. 

“Oops...my bad.” Tsumu pressed his palms together. “I think I left it in my locker.” 

They stared at each other as if they were transmitting a special and weird kind of message. 

Tsumu gave him a heads up and Samu hurriedly ran back to school on his way to the lockers as fast as he could.  

After what happened this morning, with you just spending time with each other and him not pretending to be someone else, he just wanted to see you, talk to you, be with you as himself. 

His chest rose and fell as he caught up with his breath. He had arrived at the lockers, but it was empty.  

No one was there.  

You weren’t there.  

His shoulder slumped in dismay while he opened the locker, which he somehow shared with his brother. The shirt wasn't even there and Samu knew it was just Tsumu’s phony excuse to let him off the hook. 

Closing the door, he resigned in defeat. Sighing as if fate was playing him all along. Everytime he wanted to come clean and make things clear, the opportunity was always not in his favor.  

However, a sliver of hope had lit him up as he heard faint footsteps approaching. 

It’s you. 

Suddenly, all the courage he had dissipated, and the anticipation turned him into a frozen mess. Your backs were against each other as you fetched your own stuff from your locker. Though he’s already done with his business, he remained standing there not lifting a finger nor saying a word. 

“I’m all okay now, thanks to you. The bento brought me a lot of comfort,” you initiated, closing your locker. “I know that the school year’s about to end and we might go our separate ways.” Samu took a sharp breath and clenched his fists as you continued, “But I really cherish every single second I’ve spent with you, Miya...”  

Before you could even finish, you suddenly found your back pressed against the locker, a hand over your eyes and his lips crashed against yours. The kiss took away his name from your lips before it could even escape. He couldn’t take the pain if you’d say his brother’s. He couldn’t bear to hear it.  

Right now...when he had you with your eyes closed and his kiss was disarming your very being, it’s just him. Just like each of the moment he shared with you. It’s just him. Samu...Osamu. 

You easily caved into him. His familiar scent, feeling and warmth were making you wish that this won’t end. Even with eyes closed, you knew him and you just melted in his arms, hoping that this very minute would turn into hours.  

His kisses felt like a plea. A desperate plea. Desperately, he was begging you to love him back.  

Love...He parted from you, now waking up from the realization. 

All this time, he’s not fighting his feelings for you...he’s escaping the pain if you don’t feel the same way too. 

Feeling the loss of his touch, you called out to him. His name softly breezed out of your lips, but when you opened your eyes, he was no longer there.  

Your fingers went over your lips, tracing every whisper of his. Your chest tightened--heart all squeezed out. Why did it all feel like goodbye? 

『MASTERLIST』 PREV • NXT »

super sorry for the delay! I got a little bit under the weather yesterday and though I'm done with the chapter, I can't bring myself to open my laptop. we're getting there! we're getting so close to where things would culminate and fall into place! thanks for sticking with me. updates will be bi-weekly, moving forward!

REBLOGS ARE DEEPLY APPRECIATED ♡

Please help me reach other viewers. Thank you so so much! 

TAGLIST

@miiyas @sagejin @wyrcan @dailyakira @pixelcafe-network

[valeriwa]

HOW IT'S LIKE TO LIVE WITH THEM

domestic hq boys!!!!!

characters: bokuto koutaro, miya osamu, kozume kenma

cw: petnames

req here

if you had to describe living with bokuto koutaro in one word, you would say chaotic. even if he means the best, things always get messy. but the messiest would be cooking together. he's not the best cook but he knows how to chop vegetables at least so you usually recruit him for dinner preps. but everytime, it's just chaos. he's very eager to help, but he's just one minute away to flipping the very boiling hot pan of deliciousness. and he always! i mean always! double dips. even if you stop him, he gets all whiny, saying "your food's so tasty, baby. can't stop myself."

ever since you started living with miya osamu, you've been the subject of experimentation (kind of?). your lovely partner brings you potential menu items every week, and usually they taste pretty good. but sometimes, they're just so bad, you can't believe what you put in your mouth can be qualified as food. when osamu sees your face, contorted in pain and disgust, his mood gets all sour and he takes the plate away saying, "i get it. ya don't like ma food anymore." pouty baby.

you've started staying up way too long ever since kozume kenma became a permanent fixture in your life. you like to see him game and stream from the bed as you do your own thing. it's always nice to see him so comfortable and in his element. but your favorite part of living with him are the home movie dates! you order a lot of food and kenma doesn't stream that night, and you both watch movies all night long. and somehow in the morning you're wrapped around his torso, and he wakes you up with a smile. "ready for breakfast, babe?"

[keisgirl]

flavours of love; osamu miya

pairing; post-timeskip!osamu x reader

wc; 0.7k

multi masterlist

the evening sun dipped low, casting a golden glow over the quaint shop named onigiri miya. inside, the air was filled with the comforting aroma of seasoned rice and fresh, savory fillings. the rhythmic sound of chopping and the sizzle of rice being prepared created a soothing symphony, underscoring the warmth and love that osamu poured into every piece of onigiri he made.

you pushed open the door, greeted by the familiar jingle of the bell. the moment you stepped inside, you were met with osamu’s bright smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. he wiped his hands on a towel and ambled over, his movements fluid and confident. “hey there,” he greeted, wrapping you in a quick, warm hug.

“hey, samu,” you replied, your voice carrying a hint of mischief. you leaned into him, savoring the comfort of his embrace. “i missed you.”

his smile widened as he pulled back slightly, leading you to your usual spot at the counter. “i missed you too. ready for your usual onigiri?”

you nodded, but a playful grin tugged at your lips. “actually, i tried something new today.”

osamu’s brow arched in curiosity. “new? like what?”

you hesitated for a moment, trying to contain your amusement. “i went to that new onigiri shop down the street. just wanted to see how it compared.”

the playful spark in osamu’s eyes flickered to a more dramatic expression of mock hurt. “you did what? you know my onigiri is the best.”

you laughed softly, reaching out to gently tap his arm. “i know, i know. it was just a little taste test.”

osamu’s eyes narrowed in a mock-serious glare. “so, you’re telling me you’re cheating on me with another onigiri shop?”

you chuckled, unable to hold back your laughter. “it wasn’t like that! i just wanted to see if they had anything different.”

“different, huh?” he feigned a dramatic sigh, then leaned in, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. “well, if you wanted to cheat, you could’ve at least picked a place that didn’t make me look bad.”

you grinned, shaking your head in amusement. “oh, come on. it was just one bite. your onigiri is still the best. i wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

osamu’s expression softened, his gaze warming as he reached over the counter to ruffle your hair affectionately. “i’ll let it slide this time. but next time, you better not even think about trying another place.”

you leaned into his touch, your heart swelling at his words. “deal. and while we’re at it, how about you make me one of your famous onigiri to remind me why i fell for you in the first place?”

his cheeks flushed slightly, but he quickly masked his shyness with a wink. “coming right up. and don’t think i’m going to go easy on you just because you’re my favorite taste tester.”

you watched as he moved with practiced ease, expertly shaping the onigiri with a precision that spoke of years of dedication. each movement was graceful and assured, a testament to his skill and passion. the sight of him working so diligently was both endearing and impressive.

as osamu handed you a freshly made onigiri, you took a bite, savoring the perfect blend of flavors. the rice was warm and fluffy, the seasoning just right. it was exactly as you remembered—simple, yet utterly delicious.

“see?” osamu said, his voice filled with satisfaction as he leaned on the counter, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of pride and amusement. “told you. no one does it better.”

you took another bite, closing your eyes in appreciation. “i’m convinced. your onigiri is the best, hands down.”

osamu’s smile grew wider, and he reached out to gently squeeze your hand. “good. that’s what i like to hear.”

the evening continued with laughter and lighthearted conversation, the warm ambiance of onigiri miya providing the perfect backdrop. as you sat there, enjoying the comforting meal and osamu’s company, you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of contentment. it was in these simple, everyday moments that you found the true essence of happiness.

with the sun setting outside and the shop slowly winding down, you both knew that this was where you were meant to be—together, sharing in the little joys of life, and savoring the love that grew stronger with each passing day.

[rinsoap]

˚ ༘ ♡⋆｡˚ ﾐ the big inarizaki three's favourite artists! (remastered)

✿²˖ ࣪ ➣ includes : suna rintaro. atsumu miya. osamu miya.

note : HEYYY IT'S BEEN A HOT MINUTE LMFAO my bad y'all... i'm hyperfixated on haikyuu again + i've been real fixated on music 4 the past year so i thought i should revisit this lol

SUNA RINTARO:

!!? of course he likes playboi carti. who do u think he is?! he found most of his favourite artists from tiktok or his friends and the one exception is playboi carti. he's BEEN a fan since his self titled debut album. he's so annoying about disliking carti's new era. def went as vamp carti for halloween. he was really into the corny ass opium aesthetic when it first became popular until his friends had to tell him it wasn't hard 😭 once he discovered real alternative like metal, he chilled out lol.

his favourite songs by playboi carti are:

★ lean 4 real (ft skepta) on the die lit album.

★ flex on the playboi carti album.

★ not pLaying on the whole lotta red album.

!!? i still believe he's a kpop fan and his favourite group is new jeans. don't talk to me. he loves all that melodic kpop like bibi and IU. don't worry though, he's not a weirdo about it, he just loves the mv lore. he's watched the ditto mv a hundred times over and TRUST the new ep had him geeked. he even has a stan twitter account but it's private and only the miya twins and iwaizumi are following it YES him and iwa r bffs YES iwa put him on most of favourite artists

his favourite songs by new jeans are:

★ get up on the newjeans 2nd EP 'get up'.

★ right now on the supernatural EP.

★ attention on the newjeans 1st EP 'new jeans'.

⌗ HONOURABLE SONG MENTIONS: LOOP (ft lil cherry) by yves. jennifer's body by ken carson. be quiet and drive (far away) by deftones. true romance by pinkpantheresss. I THINK by tyler, the creator.

OSAMU MIYA:

!!? he's been into metal since forever. he's the coolest deftones fan as in he's not fucking annoying about 🙏 he likes a lot of alt rock he might even be an honourary goth. he's still mad at anthony fantano for only rating koi no yokan a 6/10. has a big around the fur poster in his room that definitely has scared atsumu when he gets up in the middle of the night.

his favourite songs by deftones are:

★ 7 words on the adrenaline album.

★ dai the flu on the around the fur album.

★ rx queen on the white pony album.

!!? average MF DOOM lover... he started listening to him after hearing him on the gta 5 radio him n suna n atsumu play all the time and he was immediately obsessed. the orgin story to him being rap snob. it's not as bad as it was for suna with carti but he's big into old school alternative/underground hiphop and to the right crowd it can come off dorky which is who he is at heart!!! but mostly it just comes off sooo pretentious lol. "did you know mm... food is an anagram of mf doom 🤓" they faces killing me why no one gaf 😭

his favourite songs by MF DOOM are:

★ raid on the madvillainy album.

★ vomitspit on the MM...FOOD album.

★ go with the flow on the operation: doomsday album.

⌗ HONOURABLE SONG MENTIONS: survival tactics by joey bada$$. love will tear us apart by joy division. through the wire by kanye west. pretty by korn. you know how we do it by ice cube.

MIYA ATSUMU:

!!? ooh i just KNOW he's a brent faiyaz stan. look at his stupid face and then look me in my eyes and TELL ME he's not blasting larger than life 24/7. he loves stereotypical rnb him n oikawa will literally arrange cry sessions to ctrl by sza... but anyways. the way he turns into the most conceited and insufferable mf when he listens to brent's music must be studied... bro he'll turn on role model and start winking at himself in the mirror like SOMEONE STOP HIMMM

his favourite songs by brent faiyaz are:

★ ALL MINE on the WASTELAND album.

★ upset on the larger than life album.

★ talk 2 u on the sonder son album.

!!? he loves his sexy rnb but he also lovesss his pop girlies and the bridge between that is doja cat. he's an og fan of course he was bumpin say so BEFORE it got big or so he says he's a big fan of the hiphop elements of her music. and ooh best believe he is LIVING for her scarlet era he is a demons defender till he dies. "you guys just didn't understand what she was going for" right..

his favourite songs by doja cat are:

★ bottom bitch on the hot pink album

★ go off on the scarlet album.

★ options (ft JID) on the planet her album.

⌗ HONOURABLE SONG MENTIONS: never lose me (ft SZA and cardi b) by flo milli. espresso by sabrina carpenter. feels like summer by childish gambino. ex for a reason (with JT from city girls) by summer walker. mrs. officer by lil wayne.

[bowtiepasta]

osamu god of aftercare miya who doesn’t know what leaving is. in gray sweats, shirtless, a ‘kiss the cook’ apron on while he’s making you breakfast the morning after? you don’t really want him to leave anyway.

butter, pancakes, and some secret third thing, pulls you from the haze of sleep before you even open your eyes. the sheets beside you are empty but still warm, proof that osamu hasn’t been up for long.

when you stir, stretching lazily, the first thing you see is him: standing by the stove in nothing but his sweatpants and an apron that hangs loose around his bare chest. he rolls his shoulders back, muscles bunching, the former act to perfectly flipping a sunnyside egg — yolk intact.

“you’re starin’,” he drawls, not looking away from the pan. who wouldn’t be? sleep is evident in his hair, apron dusted lightly with flour, and there’s a faint pink mark on his shoulder turning purple, one you don’t remember leaving but feel smug about anyway.

“you’re in my apartment, my kitchen, making me breakfast,” you manage to carry the tone through a mumble, “I think I’m allowed to look.”

he huffs out a laugh, setting a fresh pancake onto the growing stack on the counter. “fair enough.”

“planning on leaving anytime soon?” you ask, tucking your hair behind your ear and drizzling syrup over your portion. he stares a moment, eyes soft and crinkling at the ends, grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“I ain’t leavin’ until you're full.”

[makkir0ll]

between you and your husband, you were the one more…vocal about your love for him. leaving him sweet notes with doodles of the two of you in his lunch, ending all heartfelt messages with x’s, planting a big kiss on his cheek that he pretended to cringe at but in reality he looked forward to it everytime he left the house.

people would always come up to you, telling you that he doesn’t reciprocate his love with words and such and asking you how you dealt with it. truth be told it took a while for you to get used to but soon enough you began to see the signs.

it was the way that every time he got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom he would tuck your feet back into bed. the way he spent a solid twenty minutes cleaning your phone screen, and with furrowed brows as he placed your new screen protector on, making sure there were no bubbles. it was when you opened his wallet that you saw all the notes you wrote him saved in one pocket of his shitty leather wallet that was begging to be put to rest. it's the way when you come home after a long night out with your friends he takes his time undressing you, removing and placing your jewelry carefully on your bedside table and making sure to gently take off your makeup and of course do your skincare routine that he has memeorized. when he goes out and he spots a little something with your favorite character on it he buys it immediately, not bothering to look at the price tag because the way your eyes would light up when he brought home the little gift was worth more than a billion dollars to him.

it was when on your third month anniversary when the two of you were still dating, while the two of you sat down on the booth next to each other at a restaurant he held your hand and squeezed it three times. signifying the words, i love you. he knew he loved you from the start but was scared it was too soon to say it and this was his silent way of telling you so. and you picked up on it quickly when he started to do it more often.

and on your wedding day, as the two of you stand in front of all your loved ones and the officiator he says the most beautiful vows ever, telling you that "if death do us part then i hope to find you in every lifetime" and once he ended with that sentence, he squeezed your hand three times. i. love. you.

you always knew your husband loved you because his actions spoke a thousand words to you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜

sigh. TSUKISHIMA FREAKING KEI!!!!!!!!, akaashi keiji (he writes notes back to you), KITA. SHINSUKE., iwaizumi hajime (30) athletic trainer, suna rintarou, USHIJIMA, kageyama tobio (squeezed your hand a lot when you started dating), MIYA OSAMU, sakusa kiyoomi, OH OH OH AONE!!,

[noosayog]

[3:47 pm] ft miya osamu

wc: 700

--

When you slam open Atsumu’s bedroom door and plop yourself onto the carpet next to him, he barely looks up from his phone. 

“Ever heard of knocking?”

You lay belly down on the floor and scream into the worn fuzz of the carpet. 

“Gross. You know our bare, unwashed feet walk on this floor right?” 

He offers you a pillow and you take it, squishing it between the floor and your face. Atsumu waits for your breath to run out. 

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Atsumuuuuu…” you bemoan. “I’m going through a crisis.” 

He says nothing, continuing to scroll on his phone but you can tell you’ve garnered some of his interest. 

“I have a secret. Like one that I can’t tell anyone.”

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s so shameful. I’ve been keeping it to myself for, like, ever.”

“Yeah, I bet I couldn’t guess what it is.” The sarcasm is completely lost on you. 

“Yeah. You’d make fun of me. It’d be material for you to tease me for a lifetime,” you pause, take a deep breath. “I-

“-have a big fat crush on my brother?” 

You gape. “What?” 

He looks up from his phone. He blink at you, like you’re any simpleton. “You,” he says slowly, punctuating each word, ”have a big, fat, embarrassing, crutching, debilitating crush on my brother.” 

“I didn’t even realize you knew so many big words-”

“What?” 

The two of you freeze up. 

“‘Samu!” Atsumu exclaims. “Thought you weren’t gonna be back until later tonight.”

“I wasn’t.”

He gives no other explanation. You stay still, hoping that if you don’t move or breathe, he won’t notice you. The silence stretches.

“Ohhh.. kay. Well, I better go. You kids-”

You jolt awake at that, in disbelief that Atsumu would flee alone after what he’s done.

“I’ll go with!” You turn and run, making monumental efforts to avoid a dark eyes trained on you. 

You’re about to squeeze past when a hand slams against the doorframe, arm now blocking off your exit. Osamu stares hard at you while your gaze stays glued to the exit beyond, though it’s more like you’re staring at his bicep which is now stationed at your eye level. 

“I’m just gonna go…” you hear Atsumu mumble, ducking under Osamu’s arm barrier, stealing your escape route. 

“Jackass-” you mumble.

“Hey.” 

The low voice comes from right above your head.

“Osamu,” you greet, still staring at his arm. “I gotta go. I have plans-”

A finger comes up to lift your jaw. It’s careful, but still forceful. When your eyes finally meet his, the one finger turns into two which grip your chin in place. 

“Was what Atsumu said true?” 

It takes a lot for you to hold back a stutter. “Sounds like you heard him loud and clear to me,” you say, ready to slap his hand away. 

“I did.”

“Then why are you still asking-” 

“If it’s true,” he leans down, talking slowly. It makes you start to hyperventilate. You need a paper bag or something. “I don’t wanna hear it from my stupid brother.” 

His eyes are mesmerizing, captivating. Not even the many, many years of knowing him dulls the effect of his straightforward gaze on you. You think you hear someone concede, “it’s true.” 

“What’s true?” he whispers. He’s so close you feel his words ghost your mouth.

Autopilot talks. “That I have a big fat crush on you.” 

He eats up the next millimeter of space. 

“Yeah?” he murmurs against your lips.

Suddenly, his neck is caged inside of your arms and you’re licking up his familiar minty breath and surely this all isn’t your doing because your brain is still catching up. 

His smile widens against your lips and you can feel the smugness radiate off him. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have interrupted, then.” 

That clears the fog. You shove his shoulders away and try to ignore the fact that he doesn’t go very far.

“Why?” you demand. 

He kisses you again. “‘Cause my brother’s got a big mouth.” 

You tilt your head in confusion. Osamu takes it as an invitation to slot his face better against yours. 

His kiss almost makes you forget your train of thought, but that’s okay because he answers your question anyway. 

“And he probably would’ve blabbed that I have a big fat crush on you too.”

[biggianteggplant]

"Operation: Sit, Bounce, Vanish"

Just Y/N casually grinding and bouncing on them then proceeds to get up and leave lol

KUROO TETSURO

Kuroo was manspreading like he paid rent just to do that. Hair messy. Shirt slightly wrinkled. Smug expression baked onto his face like it was his full-time job. He looked like the human equivalent of a “you up?” text.

You stared. Then smirked. Then slowly—without a word—walked over and shoved him onto the couch with the grace of a goddess and the menace of someone who’s waited exactly three weeks and four hours for this moment.

“Whoa—okay, hi,” he chuckled, arms up like he was ready for a good time. “You finally giving in, huh? Couldn’t resist me?”

You didn’t answer.

You straddled him. Dead silent. No smile. Eyes locked.

And then you started moving.

Slow grind. Full bounce. Nothing wild, just enough to make him twitch like a malfunctioning robot. The pressure? Exactly dangerous. The eye contact? Murderous.

He choked on a breath.

You moaned.

“T-tetsu..u~”

Like it was the climax of a soap opera. Like you were standing on a balcony in the rain in a gown screaming your dying lover’s name. Like you were about to win a BAFTA for this role.

He blinked. “H-hey, uh—babe?” His voice cracked like cheap glass.

Your hands rested on his chest.

You moaned again. Softer. Darker.

Then… you stopped.

Got up.

Walked off.

Deadpan face. Not a single look back. Not a word. Not a smirk.

Kuroo sat up so fast he nearly pulled a back muscle. “Wait. Wait, wait, wait—what just happened?”

Silence.

“…Was that revenge? What did I do? BABE? WHAT DID I DO???”

He stood, nearly tripped over air, and yelled into the hallway.

“I—I LIKED YOUR INSTAGRAM POST. I SWEAR. I DIDN’T FORGET OUR ANNIVERSARY. PLEASE, WHAT’S HAPPENING?!”

You, meanwhile, were in the kitchen calmly eating cereal like none of that happened.

Kuroo, clutching the back of the couch, whispering to himself: “…I’m in danger.”

KENMA KOZUME

Kenma was in the zone—shoulders hunched, headset on, fingers moving with sniper-level precision. You could hear the quiet tapping of his keyboard, the occasional mutter under his breath, and the distant sound of his teammate yelling, "LEFT! LEFT—NO, YOUR OTHER LEFT!"

You approached silently, sock-footed like a cat with bad intentions.

He didn’t notice you at first. Typical. Zoned in.

Until you casually climbed into his lap like it was your god-given throne.

He froze.

“…You good?” he mumbled, barely glancing at you, one hand still on the mouse.

Then you started soft grinding—gentle movements, slow and warm. Nothing aggressive. Just… suggestive. Cozy. Dangerous.

You leaned forward, lips brushing the shell of his ear. “K..kozume~..hnn” you whispered.

The sound of gunfire blasted through his headset.

He paused mid-match.

Dead silent.

His cheeks flushed pink instantly, ears visibly heating. “...You’re being weird again.”

But his fingers slowly slipped off the keyboard. And he hit ESC.

HE PAUSED AN ONLINE MATCH. FOR YOU.

“Okay…” he mumbled, voice small, clearly rattled. “I guess I can play later.”

You smiled. Just a little.

Then without a word—you stood up and walked away.

Kenma sat there. Motionless.

He stared at the empty space on his lap like it had just punched him in the heart.

“…You can’t just cause emotional lag and leave,” he muttered, still stunned. “I—I PAUSED FOR YOU. That was ranked…”

In the distance, your soft laughter echoed like a final killcam.

BOKUTO KOUTARO

Bokuto was sprawled on the couch, legs wide, phone angled up, watching volleyball highlight reels like they were gospel. He was in the zone—nodding, hyping himself up, whispering “That’s how you block, baby, YES,” like he hadn’t watched the same clip five times.

You walked in with an expression that said destruction was on the menu and Bokuto was the special.

“Hey babe!” he greeted loudly, full beam smile. “You wanna see this cool spike from—”

You didn’t answer.

You straddled him.

He blinked. “…Oh.”

And then you started.

All in.

Full bounce. Hands draped dramatically behind his neck like a diva about to faint from the tension. Whimpers, soft moans, and your voice drawing out: “hngh..k-kou..a-aa~” Like he was a forbidden snack and you were on a juice cleanse.

His brain fried.

Completely.

“UH—UH—BABE?!” he half-yelled, hands hovering like he wasn’t sure where to touch, where to look, whether to cry or scream.

He was absolutely flustered, mouth slightly open, cheeks red, heartbeat syncing with every grind. Volleyball highlights? Forgotten. There was only you and his complete mental shutdown.

You gave a final whimper. Rested your forehead against his.

Then stood up.

And left.

Just.

Walked out.

Bokuto stared at the empty air where you once were. Still seated like a cursed statue.

“…BABE?!”

He launched up from the couch, flailing after you.

“HELLO?! WHAT WAS THAT?! COME BACK!! I WAS ENJOYING THAT! I WAS SO INTO IT!! DO IT AGAIN!!”

In the kitchen, you stirred your drink in silence, deadpan, as if you hadn't just mentally exploded a man with fully-clothed cardio.

Bokuto, clinging to the doorframe like a war widow: “I’M WHIPPED AND I DON’T CARE. PLEASE.”

AKAASHI KEIJI

Akaashi was having a peaceful afternoon. Chamomile tea. A book with too many footnotes. Lo-fi playing like the world made sense.

And then—you entered.

Dead silent. Eyes locked on him like judgment day just arrived in thigh-high socks.

He glanced up. "Hello, love," he said, suspicious but polite.

You didn’t answer.

You climbed into his lap like you had a mission, and his thighs were the launch pad.

His hands stayed frozen mid-page.

Then—bounce. Bounce. Bounce.

Soft and sinful, like a PG-13 exorcism. “K-keiji..h-ha-a~” you moaned.

A single vein in his forehead twitched. He blinked slowly, like a man calculating whether this was a dream, a prank, or divine punishment.

“Darling,” he said with dangerous calm, “what is this?”

But he was already gone. Mentally wiped. That page of the book? Unreadable. Text? Just blurry noodles. You were bouncing like this was a demonic ritual and he was the altar.

Then—you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

And LEFT.

You LEFT.

No explanation. No tongue. Not even a "brb."

Just... air.

Akaashi didn’t move for five whole minutes. Eyes glassy. Tea still steeping. Book sliding off his lap in slow motion.

Inside his head:

“Is this psychological warfare? Did I forget an anniversary? Did I accidentally vote for something evil in a group chat?”

Out loud, monotone: “…That was… bold of you.”

Another five minutes passed.

Still motionless. Still on the couch. The scent of your shampoo lingering like a war crime.

He finally muttered, “…Was I supposed to say something? Applaud? Cry? Ascend to heaven?”

Then he picked up his phone. Opened a group chat titled: “📚 Book Men and Bokuto.”

Akaashi:

She bounced on me, moaned my name, then left. What does it mean.

Bokuto:

BRO SAME I’M STILL BREATHING HEAVY SHE’S A MENACE 😭

Kuroo:

Just accept it. We’re dating chaos in eyeliner.

Akaashi looked out the window. Took a long, exhausted sip of his now-cold tea.

“…I am suffering. Elegantly.”

GOSHIKI TSUTOMU

Goshiki was chillin’. Hoodie on. Headphones in. Probably listening to something overly dramatic like the Haikyuu soundtrack or a TED Talk on mental resilience.

He didn’t stand a chance.

You walked in with zero warning. No explanation. No mercy.

Before he could say, “Huh?” you pushed him gently onto the bed. Straddled him. Planted yourself down like he was your chair and life was a stage.

Then you started bouncing.

Soft, slow. Intentional.

“Tsutomu..h-ha..why are so w-warm..hngh~” you moaned — drawn out, sugary-sweet, like you were reading it off a Wattpad page in real time.

His whole body seized up.

“W-WHAT THE—?!”

Hands flailed. Legs went stiff. Brain? Overheated. He felt like someone had kicked his soul out his spine.

You leaned in closer, let out the tiniest whimper — not loud, but close. Just enough to make his ears turn red and his heart go supersonic.

And then—you LEFT.

Just. Got. Up. No closure. No forehead kiss. You just dipped like this was some random Tuesday ritual and not his villain origin story.

He sat there frozen. Mouth parted. Chest rising and falling way too fast.

Then—he whimpered.

Just a tiny, high-pitched noise. Unplanned. From the throat. Like his soul sighed through his mouth.

“…Ahh—” Immediately slapped a hand over his lips. “WHY—WHY DID I MAKE A NOISE?!”

He flopped backwards dramatically, arms spread like a Shakespearean corpse.

“She’s going to kill me one day… and I’ll thank her.”

Face still bright red. Still hearing the sound of your voice like it was echoing in a cathedral. Still lowkey hoping you’d come back and do it again so he could “react better this time” (he wouldn’t).

And in the hallway, you smiled.

Mission: chaos. Status: accomplished.

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI

Ushijima Wakatoshi was doing his usual — sitting on the couch like a fortress, silently eating protein snacks and watching volleyball footage like it was the evening news.

Then she walked in.

Confident. Calm. Dressed like danger.

He didn’t even blink when she shoved him back gently onto the cushions and straddled him. That wasn’t what alarmed him. He’d seen many unorthodox warm-ups in his time.

Then—

Bounce. Bounce. “Wakatoshi~”

She moaned it with full anime-level dramatics, sultry and slow like she’d been practicing. Her hands went on his shoulders for balance, hips rocking in steady rhythm. Fully clothed. No actual plan. Just chaos and vibes.

Ushijima’s brows pulled together.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, voice low and deadly serious. “Is this… a new kind of stretch?”

You didn’t answer. You just gave one last confident roll of your hips, leaned in like you were going to say something profound…

And then you walked away. Like nothing happened.

Left him there on the couch — straight posture, blank expression… and fully hard.

Silence.

He stared straight ahead at the door like it had just personally betrayed him.

Took one slow breath through his nose. Chest rising just slightly.

“She’s strange,” he murmured. “I love her.”

Looked down at himself. Back up. Then whispered, louder this time:

“…She’s going to come back, right?”

Pause.

No answer.

He sat there, motionless. Internally screaming. Externally still built like a demigod statue.

Conclusion: Training couldn’t prepare him. Love is terrifying. And he’s going to need to shower cold water and repentance.

SHIRABU KENJIRO

Shirabu was minding his business, sitting cross-legged on the floor, skimming through his notes like he wasn’t 100% hot in a cardigan. Completely in peace.

Then she came in like a war crime.

With purpose. With eyebrow energy. With chaotic woman agenda.

She straddled his lap like he owed her rent and started bouncing. Not wild. Just steady. Unbothered. Calculated. Evil.

“jiro...h-ha!~” She moaned his name like it was the finale of a play and she was up for a Tony.

He blinked. His soul buffered.

“Tch. You’re annoying.” Tone flat. Words sharp. Voice trembling like a wet cat.

But his whole face was glowing red like a strawberry in denial. Hands on his knees. Back perfectly straight. Losing his will to live one slow grind at a time.

She gave one final roll of her hips. Then stood up like it was jury duty and left.

Walked away. Blank face. Like she didn’t just emotionally obliterate him.

He sat there in stunned silence. Hands still on his knees like he was in timeout.

Then he snapped.

“...I—HEY! WAIT! I didn’t mean it like that!”

Scrambled to his feet like he was being evicted from peace.

“Come back! I meant like... annoying in a cute way?? Like—you’re MY annoying?!”

Voice cracking, ego gone. Left behind, staring at the empty space where she used to be, gripping his own hair like a man who just said “I don’t care” and then immediately cared so hard.

HINATA SHOYO

Hinata was chilling on the bed, humming to himself and swinging his legs like a golden retriever who just discovered a new flavor of yogurt.

He didn’t notice her creeping up until it was too late.

Suddenly—

BOOM.

She dropped onto his lap like the final boss of temptation and started bouncing. Full send. Championship-level rhythm. Gold medal-worthy grind. Fully clothed but somehow emotionally naked.

Leaning in, she whispered into his ear, dripping honey and chaos:

“Sho~”

He flatlined.

“WH-WHA—BABE?! ARE YOU OKAY?!” His soul ejected through his nose. Brain? 404 not found. His hands were in the air like he was under arrest by the goddess of seduction herself.

She didn't stop. Just grinded harder. Whimpering softly. Like this was HER volleyball final and she was spiking with every bounce.

And then—HE MOANED.

A tiny, breathy “nn–ah,” like his dignity was trying to claw its way out of his throat and failed.

And then she LEFT. Skipped away. Humming. Like she just didn't emotionally set him on fire and walk away like an arsonist in glitter.

He sat there, cross-eyed. Face red. Hands on his chest like he just got hit by a car made of hormones.

“Oh my god.” “Oh my GOD.” “I’m in love. I’m in danger. I need water.”

Collapsed backwards into the bed like his body just said “I forfeit.”

TSUKISHIMA KEI

Tsukishima was on the couch, headphones on, pretending he didn’t need love or attention, when she pounced.

Literally pounced.

One second: peace.

Next second: Lap. Bouncing. Moaning.

“Tsukki” She purrs it in his ear like a cursed ASMR channel sent straight from hell.

He freezes. Eyes wide. Neck stiff. Blush detonates. You could roast marshmallows on his cheeks.

“Ugh. What are you doing?” His voice comes out flat. Emotionless. Lying. Lying through his damn teeth.

She keeps going. Little playful grind here, tiny whimper there, body warm against his in all the worst-best ways. Then—

She gets up. Walks away. Like she didn’t just shake the foundation of his emotional stability.

He’s left sitting there, arms folded, jaw clenched like a Victorian man whose ankle was just exposed.

Pushes up his glasses with a trembling hand “Why are you so weird.”

Deadpan voice. Wild panic.

Later, Yamaguchi walks in to ask if he wants to go out, only to find Tsukki sitting there, still pink, glasses fogged up, muttering to himself:

“I hate her. I love her. I hate her. I need her to do that again.”

KITA SHINSUKE

Kita was folding laundry.

FOLDING LAUNDRY.

Peaceful. Domestic. Soft music playing. He had just finished lining up the socks by size, color, and life purpose when—

SHE SAT ON HIM.

Not aggressively. Not violently. Just… sat. And started bouncing.

Gentle. Rhythmic. Purposeful.

Like she was trying to awaken something ancient inside him.

“Shinsuke~” She moaned it like she was trying to get cast in the spiciest drama Japan's ever banned.

He blinked. Once. Heart rate: up. Stability: on fire.

“Are you… feeling unwell, love?” he asked, as if his voice wasn't one octave higher and vibrating with restraint.

She grinds again.

His hands grip her thighs like prayer beads.

He grunts. Then a tiny whimper slips out—traitorous. He covers it with a cough like he’s trying to convince God he’s still worthy.

His face is red, like a polite tomato having a breakdown.

“Darling, this isn’t sanitary. The clean towels are right there…”

She just smiles sweetly. Innocently. Like she didn’t just weaponize softness and decimate his will to stand.

And then?

She walks off. Like it was just another Tuesday.

Kita remains seated. Hands politely folded behind his back. Eyes blank. Soul ascending.

“…That girl’s gonna give me gray hair.” “And I’ll thank her for every strand.”

MIYA OSAMU

It was a quiet afternoon at Onigiri Miya.

The rice was hot. The kitchen was calm. Osamu was in his element, apron on, hair tied up, wrist flicking like a trained chef-slash-lowkey-dilf—

Until she pounced.

No warning. No hesitation. Just: BOUNCE.

Lap? Occupied. Voice? Breathless.

“Osamuuu~” She moaned it like she was trying to get arrested and liked the idea.

He blinked up at her with a smile that said “ha ha you’re cute” but his BRAIN said:

“YOU WANNA DO THIS RIGHT NOW WHILE I’M HOLDING A RICE SCOOP?!”

“Keep this up and I’m proposing today,” he teased, hand sliding to her waist like it wasn’t lowkey trembling.

She just smirked. Gave one last bounce for dramatic effect. Then stood up.

Winked.

Walked off.

Like she didn’t just shake him to his core and make him rethink his whole life plan in one minute.

Osamu sat there. Alone. Flushed. Emotionally fried like his best tempura.

He put down the rice scoop, stared at the door she disappeared through, and whispered like a man in a Netflix romance mini-series:

“...I’m actually gonna propose. Damn.”

MIYA ATSUMU

Atsumu was reclining like he owned the Earth.

Legs spread, arms up, smug levels critical. Smirking like, “Yeah, baby, you’re lucky I’m free today.”

That was before she sat on him. Hard.

Started grinding and moaning “tsumuuu~ a-ah! fuck..” like it was a performance art piece for chaos and psychological warfare.

His smirk faltered. Just a little. Then—bounce.

“H-hah—okay—okay! Someone’s feelin’ frisky t’day—!” Smug was cracking like drywall in an earthquake.

Another bounce.

He whines.

Then WHIMPERS. LOUDLY. Voice breaks. Accent slips.

“Aw hell, darlin’—wh-what’re ya tryna do t’me?!”

FULL SOUTHERN DESCENT. Kansai accent hitting so raw it sounded like a back-alley confession.

He’s sweating. Whining. Head back like he saw God and got rejected.

Then.

SHE GETS UP. AND WALKS AWAY.

Like she didn’t just spiritually decimate one of Japan’s finest athletes in under 2 minutes.

Atsumu sits there, jaw unhinged. Hands limp at his sides. Soul in orbit.

He blinks slowly. Watches her leave like she’s walking away from the wreckage of his ego’s funeral.

“...Ya can’t just leave me like this,” he mutters to the door. “That was... illegal. You’re illegal.” “I whimpered. I ain't never whimpered in my damn life!”

Silence.

Then he YELLS:

“WAS IT THE ACCENT?! I SWEAR I’LL TONE IT DOWN—JUST COME BACK!!!”

KYOTANI KENTARO

She didn’t ask. Didn’t warn. Just straddled his lap with the calm audacity of someone who knew exactly what she was doing.

He was mid-sentence. Now? He was mid-heart attack.

“H-Hey—wait, what—”

Then she leans in. Close.

Hot breath against his neck. Her lips ghost over his jaw. Slowly. Softly. Like she’s learning the texture of his skin just to haunt him later.

And then—she kisses him.

Not a quick peck. Not playful.

It’s deep. Slow. Spicy as hell. The kind of kiss that clings to his mouth even when it’s over.

His hands shoot up, gripping her waist so hard he thinks he might bruise her, but she just presses in more, bounces slowly in his lap like she’s reading every single one of his reactions.

“Kentaro~ nn- HaH!” she breathes right into his mouth. Bounces again.

He sees god. Then he sees hell. Then he forgets how to see.

“W-what the—what is this?!” His voice is too high, too desperate. He’s already hard. Already clenching her thighs like they’re life rafts.

She just leans in again, brushes his ear with her lips, and whispers filth that fries what’s left of his sanity.

“You’re so easy to break, you know that?”

Kisses him again. He groans into her mouth—loud—almost embarrassingly so. He grabs at her again, this time more forcefully—

And she flicks his hand away.

Stands. Fixes her shirt. Walks away like she just didn’t turn him into a walking hormone cocktail.

Kyotani is left on the couch, sweating, hard, and absolutely stunned. Face flushed, fists clenched, lips swollen, staring at the empty hallway like it personally betrayed him.

“That was love,” he mutters hoarsely. “I hate it here. I love it here.”

He doesn’t move for five full minutes. Still. Quiet. Processing.

Then under his breath:

“...I’m gonna marry her or die trying.”

IWAIZUMI HAJIME

She straddles him on the couch like it’s her throne and he’s just lucky to be her footstool. Hands on his chest. Eyes locked on his.

Then the bounce starts.

Slow. Rhythmic. Intentional. And then—

“haji~” she moans like she’s reading lines in a romance drama with too much budget and not enough shame.

His jaw tightens.

“Oi,” he warns, gripping her hips, “don’t start something you can’t finish.”

He's blushing. Hard. And it only gets worse when she grinds a little too good and too slow—right there.

His hands twitch on her waist. His whole body flinches like someone hit him with a volleyball spike to the soul.

“Seriously—stop playin’ around,” he mumbles, but it sounds more like a plea than a threat. He’s getting warm. Real warm. Real fast.

She just leans forward like she’s gonna kiss him.

Spoiler: she doesn’t. She hovers. Inches from his lips. Bounces again, lips curled in mischief.

He groans. Low. Threatening. Desperate. Hard.

And then?

She gets up.

Just hops off. Fixes her shirt. Leaves. No explanation. No glance back. Just vibes.

Iwaizumi sits there—wide-eyed, wrecked, emotionally tazed.

Staring into the middle distance like a man who saw the future and it was terrifyingly horny.

“...She’s gonna be the death of me,” he mutters to no one.

He stays there. Still blushing. Still adjusting his pants like his life didn’t just flash before his eyes with soft moans and denim friction.

And yet? He smiles.

“...Not a bad way to go, though.”

SAKUSA KIYOOMI

Sakusa Kiyoomi didn’t ask for this.

He was just sitting on the couch, minding his business, sipping tea, probably judging someone silently for existing wrong.

Then she came in. Straddled him like she paid rent on his thighs. Set her hands on his chest like it was hers—which, okay, maybe it was—and gave him a smile that screamed danger.

“Get off,” he muttered, wrinkling his nose. “You didn’t even wash your hands after touching the doorknob—”

Then she started bouncing. Slow. Hypnotic. Criminal. And the worst part? She moaned his name.

“Kiyoomi~” Like she was casting a spell. Like he was the main character in a fanfic. Like she knew what she was doing.

His breath caught. His tea almost fell. His sanity left the group chat.

“Y-you—what is this?!” he choked, voice jumping an octave. He wasn’t ready. His thighs weren’t ready. His pants? Absolutely not ready.

She leaned forward, breath hot against his neck, lips just close enough to not be kissing him.

“You mad?” she whispered.

“No,” he whispered back, voice shaking. “I’m terrified.”

Her hips moved. Again. Slower. Deeper.

He whimpered. Quiet. Shameful. Hidden behind gritted teeth and clenched fists.

But she heard it. She felt it. She thrived.

“Oh my god,” he groaned under his breath, gripping the couch cushion like it personally offended him. “You’re actually evil. You were sent to test me. This is a biohazard.”

Another bounce. Another whimper. This time louder. Desperate.

She kissed under his ear. Not sweet. Not soft. Intentional.

“Stop,” he whispered, clearly not meaning it.

“Make me.”

He groaned. His hands trembled on her thighs, like he didn’t know whether to push her off or pull her closer and die honorably.

“You’re ruining my life,” he hissed, head thrown back.

“And your boxers.”

She grinded one last time, slow enough to melt bone. Then—like a demon in disguise—she got up.

Just stood, fixed her shirt, and walked away.

No eye contact. No goodbye. Not even a damn wipe of his forehead.

Sakusa sat there. Breathing like he just ran a marathon. Harder than a physics exam. Staring into the void like he saw God and God was a woman with killer thighs.

He pulled a throw pillow into his lap and whispered to no one: “…I’m filing a report.”

[yamsfrecklvs]

cw: implied fem reader, spanking, fingering, biting, post-timeskip - not proofread

thinking about osamu miya and his big strong hands and his sudden discovery of the fact that he likes to spank you - but most importantly, that you enjoy it. it all starts out as a joke, really. you two love to playfight - in a way that never ever results in you getting hurt, of course. but this one particular time, you’re pretending to fight on the couch, laughing ‘til your ribs got tough, until he yanks you up by your waist and sprawls you on his lap, face down, ass up. he playfully bounces you on his knee before he lands a sound slap to your ass. it’s hard. a little too hard, somewhat painful, even. sure, it’s not the first time he’s ever smacked your ass - it’s a habit of his. he does it when passing by you around the house, if you’re laying on the bed, during sex, of course, or whenever he feels like it. but it was never like this, mostly because he’s aware of his strength. but today, he didn’t control the amount of force he put into the slap properly. it hurts - but oh, you love it.

you wince a little, a loud gasp coming from your mouth, eyes wide from surprise because why are you even enjoying it?

mistaking your mildly confusing pleasure for pain, his expression immediately softens, pretty eyes staring at you in worry.

“i’m so sorry, angel, did that hurt?”

it’s a little embarrassing, really. you shake your head no while he coos in an almost condescending way, his hand rubbing the reddened spot on your butt. but osamu knows you, and the fact that you’re not cracking a joke or turning to look at him in annoyance is absolutely telltale. and when he realizes it? oh.

so he tries again — he spanks you hard, exactly as he’s done instants before, and carefully observes your reactions. when he hears that cute little sound you make again, something inside him snaps. he gets it.

“you liked that, didn’t ya?”

and oh he’s such an asshole about it too, in his own, little sarcastic way. when you turn to look at him, lips in a pout and eyebrows furrowed in a mixture of embarrassment and admission, you see a flicker of sheer joy in his irises.

“don’t make a big deal out of it, ‘samu, i swear-“ you begin, only getting cut off by him spanking you again. and the little post-smack burn feels so good that you can feel the heat pooling between your thighs and you instinctively arch your back a little. he says nothing, but he takes the sight of you like this in like he’s never gonna get another chance like this, knowing damn well that yes, he will, because you can’t resist him anyway.

two minutes later, you’re still bent over on his lap. but your panties are around your ankles and he so surprised at just how wet you are from him doing so little. he’s got two fingers knuckles-deep inside you while his other hand lazily spanks you. and you could swear that it’s heaven, the way his fingers curl up inside you so perfectly, how he knows how and where to touch you. and while he says nothing, you can definitely feel his bulge poking against you. but this is not about him, no. it’s about you. it’s about making you feel good, the way you can’t help but let out gasps and moans at every single touch he reserves for you and you only. of course, it’s also about the way he can’t wait to see the purplish imprint of his hand on your ass tomorrow.

when he makes you cum on his fingers, you can tell he’s just so satisfied with himself. his hands, so big and rough now gentler against your bruised skin, cup at your ass once more. but then, he clicks his tongue in… disappointment?

you turn to him, breath still hitched. “what?”

“one sec.” he says, and he just stares at your ass for a couple of seconds before he leans down. then, a sharp pain - his teeth sinking into you. he’s biting you, the soft flesh already bruised by his digits now marked by the crescent moon of his teeth. he’s so mean and smug with it that his amusement is almost infuriating.

“sorry, baby. looked way too pretty. had to leave m’signature.”

@yamsfrecklvs i hate this but i haven’t posted in a while so ummm here ya go ig ALSO check out the lorde ref at the beginning lol

[quirrrky]

—02. LEAVE ME LOVING YOU

『MASTERLIST』 PREV • NXT »

SAMU disguised as his brother to save you from embarrassment, but what should be just for a day ended up in more. Could he really keep this secret before you find out?

secret admirer, unrequited love? timeskip, mini-series

what if I just hold on for a while?

The cooking oil sizzled when he added the chopped onions and tomatoes. The aroma easily filled the air as he sautee the ingredients altogether.

Samu’s mind travelled to the very first time he saw you while he busied himself with what he was cooking. It was a clumsy accident. Your books fell on your way to your locker and he helped you pick them up.

A smile appeared on his face as he cracked two eggs in the bowl and beat them with a fork. Carefully, he poured the scrambled egg mixture in the pan.

He could remember your flustered expression that day and his memory was still clear to recall that he chuckled inwardly at how pure the moment was. Who would’ve thought that it was already three years since that day? Who would have thought that he’d get a chance to connect with you beyond that encounter?

He heard a big yawn and it’s probably from his brother, who was now coming down from their room. “Ohhhh...” Tsumu cooed. “Is it just me or yer cookin somethin’ good?”

Samu didn’t respond. Instead, he scooped up a cup of rice and placed the cooked omelette on top.

“Is that for me, huh? My brother loves me that much?” the older one teased.

“No, that one’s yers,” Samu replied pointing out to the other bento box.

“Wait! Onigiri? How come? I want that omurice more!”

The younger twin just shook his head not entertaining his brother’s protest.

“Oh, I see,” Atsumu chimed and teased, “I know who’s that for.” Samu quirked up a brow and Tsumu leaned forward to whisper. “That’s for the girl you were with yesterday.”

“S-Shut up.”

“Oho! My little bro is a young man now, ain’t he? Goin’ on dates and borrowin’ his big bro’s get up.” Tsumu cupped and squeezed Samu’s cheeks. Much to the older twin’s amusement, his brother seemed to be less dismissive. It was like he wanted to be teased a little too. “Lemme tell ya a secret. Someone saw one of us with a girl yesterday and nobody knows who she is…But looks like I do.”

Samu just gulped pretending not to care.

“Was it...the girl whose locker is in fron’a yers?” Tsumu snickered, catching his brother right on the spot as he noticed him fidget a little. “Y/N, amiright?” Samu blushed, averting his gaze away from his twin. “Woooh! Gotcha!” Tsumu pressed his index fingers on both sides of his temple. “That’s Twin telepathy for ya. Wait- Twin Telepathy or Telepathy twin? Tele...Telepa-twin!”

Samu let out a sharp exhale, feeling embarrassed both at hearing your name and at his brother’s corny joke.

ೀ ‧ ˚ 🍙 ⊹˚. ♡

Your eyes sparkled the moment you opened the bento box. “Omurice?!” you exclaimed in excitement. “You made this?”

“Hmm...yeah.”

Samu met up with you at the rooftop during lunch just like he promised yesterday. He was no longer wearing the black cap on now that he had already dyed his hair back. Atsumu and him were no longer distinguishable apart from the huge differences in personality and the way they chose to part their hair.

“It really looks good!” you complimented with a mouth full. “You could be a great cook, well- Aside from being a volleyball player, I mean.”

Samu chuckled seeing your puffy cheeks. “How ‘bout ya?” He hesitated to ask, mindful not to come across as intrusive. “What’re yer plans after graduation?”

Taking in a huge chunk with your chopsticks, you answered, “Hmm...I’m going to uni in Tokyo. My parents are rushing me though, so I don’t really know.”

“Are they?”

“Hmmm...yeah.” You sighed and swallowed. “It’s such a hassle to pack things,” you ssid, getting a huge pinch of the omurice and taking in another round.

Your eyes closed at how tasty it was. It’s close to your mom’s cooking and now, you’re even confused which one’s better.

People say that your emotions while cooking have a direct correlation with the taste. That’s why cooking could also be a way to express one’s feelings--the sweetness, bitterness, sourness, saltiness and even the blandness—it all symbolizes life and the many flavors it holds.

Maybe that’s why Samu loved cooking. Apart from cooking, nothing beats the picture of someone savoring the moment as the food touched her tastebuds. A smile of satisfaction lit up her face like she really conveyed the same bubbly feeling he had while he was making the food.

“This is the best!” you proclaimed. “I never had an omurice like this before."

“Really?” A shy smile appeared on his face and you gulped.

He usually had a big grin you only saw from afar, but this bashful and prim smile was something else. You liked it more. It was so endearing and special much like the omurice. It was like...

 “It’s like...the first breath of dew in the morning,” you said, lost in the sight of him. “Something you’d love to wake up to.”

He blinked twice. Never did he meet someone who explained in detail how his cooking feels like. With gaze holding yours, he extended his hand and wiped the stray rice from your face. It was automatic. It felt natural. It was as if he was meant to do this.

Your hearts beat loud against your chests…if time could stop, it did right now. The world outside might be buzzing but there’s peace in moments like this.

That’s until...

A burp loudly roared out of your mouth. Your hand quickly flew over your lips, and he burst out laughing at the suddenness. Instead of feeling embarrassed, you found yourself comfortably laughing your heart out too.

Holding out over his stomach with a few tears at the corners of his eyes, he said in between of laughing, “Wait, wait...I think mine’s comin’ too.”

“What?” You laughed.

He burped just as loud too, and you both couldn’t catch your breaths cackling.

ೀ ‧ ˚ 🍙 ⊹˚. ♡

“I never saw Samu smile like that,” Kita, their senior, said to his former teammates. He visited them for a final game before their upcoming graduation. Time flies so fast and his kouhai before are now full-pledged adult about to step out to the real world.

“He’s been like that for a week now,” Tsumu chirped, shooting Suna a knowing look.

“Is there somethin’ I should know?” The silver-haired man wondered with a curious smile on his face.

Suna just simply tapped his phone and showed something to his senpai, scrolling through the exclusive photos.

He got those whenever he’d pass by and would see you and Samu hanging out at the rooftop every lunch. It had been happening frequently now. Perhaps, since the day the rumors about you having a date with one of the Miya twins began. No one really knows which of the twins. Well, it was sort of an Inarizaki secret since Samu was acting quite fussy about it.

“Oh, that kinda’ somethin’, huh?” Kita mused. “Always thought you’d have it first.”

“H-Hey! I went to a few dates here and there, ya know!” Tsumu protested. “In speakin’ of… Samu!” he called out to his brother who immediately tucked his smile in.

Atsumu laced an arm around his shoulders. “I left my volleyball shoes inside my locker,” he said as if he’s suggesting something. “Could ya fetch it for me?” Samu just darted a glare towards him and Tsumu elbowed his side. “Oh, ya know what I mean! It’s gettin’ late. Ya better catch up to her.”

“Ugh...Cut it off.” Samu unlaced his arm and walked away to heed his twin’s request. “Next time get it yer own.”

Tsumu’s mouth puffed up with laughter. “Geez! It’s so obvious!”

Samu loosened his tie as he walked towards the locker area. Come to think of it, he hadn't changed to his jersey yet. His head was swimming in thoughts of you, no- he meant thoughts of how you would react to the next thing he’s gonna cook. After all, you gave really good feedback and his cooking improved after he shared with you his creations every lunch time.

He ran a hand through his hair. The sun was setting and he felt a little off kilter. The day was about to end just as your high school days. He never felt this way before but now... He couldn’t even explain it. There’s a part of him that wanted to stop time even just for a while.

Time! He better hurry up. It’s already 6pm. 

You looked at your watch. It’s getting late now. Usually, he’d stop by his locker at this time. Clicking your padlock close, you drew a breath of resignation until you heard footsteps, and your head immediately turned in their direction.

 He approached closer to you. His scent was that of home and comfort. The serenity in his face was an all too familiar expression—one that got you smiling so ridiculously you had never been happy seeing someone.

“Miya-san,” you uttered.

You slowly watched as his mouth opened, anticipating your name to roll out of his lips.

“Samu!” you heard someone call instead. Your attention was drawn by the loud voice from someone approaching the both of you.

Your eyes widened in sheer astonishment. They bore similar features, yet this one…The one who just arrived…he was so much of a stranger.

His arms laced around his twin’s shoulders. “Whatta we have here?” His face split into a grin.

Your eyes travelled to his jersey. The number...This is—Miya Atsumu.

『MASTERLIST』 PREV • NXT »

aaahhhh! we're halfway next chapter 🥹 and it's going to be a bomb! I'm telling yall now 🫣 I hope you guys liked this chapter and I'm definitely excited to hear your thoughts. again, thanks to @starlostlaiba for betareading.

REBLOGS ARE DEEPLY APPRECIATED ♡ Please help me reach other viewers. Thank you so so much! 

TAGLIST@miiyas @wyrcan @sagejin @pixelcafe-network

[kurooh]

MIGHT LET YOU MAKE ME JUNO ! — HAIKYUU

⊹₊˚. featuring timeskip! miya atsumu, miya osamu, kuroo tetsurō, iwaizumi hajime, & suna rintarou tryin’ to knock up their pretty wife !

warnings ★ 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, breeding, cuddlefucking, doggy, talk of kids & pregnancy, fluff, creampies, shower sex, minor cockwarming, squirting, full nelson, mirror sex, mention of lactation, mating press, cum in panties (offscreen), not proofread.

xoxo, juno ★ my namesake?! hehe, cheers to the surviving haikyuu fuckers on my blog <33 ty for your patience!! as always, send in some asks/reblog if you enjoyed, i love reading comments/tags

— MIYA ATSUMU

“go ahead ‘n slut yerself out all over my cock, baby.. fuuuck, jus’ like that.”

atsumu’s lips part around a needy moan, jaw hanging slackly in some kind of disbelief. after such a lengthy, tiring day, he found himself trudging into your shared bathroom to greet you.

he’d gotten hard in seconds, seeing your tits pressed against the glass door as well as your face, lidded eyes and cute pout enticing him to come join you. when he got onto his knees to get you ready, you’d bent over and tossed him a knowing smirk over your shoulder.

“lemme see that ass move again.. shit, ‘s perfect. yer perfect.” you giggle, throwing your ass back onto his cock, eyes rolling back when his tip kisses your cervix just right, sending sparks of pleasure right through your veins.

“tsumu, this isn’t all that fun,” you huff, the wild need for him to truly ruin you growing by the second. “wan’ you to fuck me, and make me yours.”

“baby, yer already mine,” atsumu lands a slap on your wet asscheek, startling you enough for your legs to spread further. “good girl,” he praises, hushed and under his breath. he reaches upwards and pulls the shower head down, pushes it into your hand and changes the setting.

“use this on yer clit, ‘kay? when yer feelin’ like ya wanna cum, don’t. hold it ‘n we’ll cum at the same time, yeah baby?”

you nod, and he smacks your ass hard, leaning backwards. atsumu pushes a hand through soaked gold strands, chuckling lowly although his voice has a serious edge to it. “‘s not how we say yes, is it?”

“y-yes, tsumu. at the same time.”

he draws his hips back, then finds himself advancing forward brutally. he doesn’t think about anything beside you — you, you, you. with the scent of your body wash tangling in the hot air, the beautiful curves and slopes of your body, the noises you make for him only.

your chest heaves when the steady spray of the shower head soon reaches your clit, immediately proving to be overwhelming and intense paired with him fucking you.

“so god damn tight,” atsumu hisses, nails digging crescent moons into the plush skin of your hips as his own collide with your ass. the bathroom is full of steam and the rhythmic clap of skin against skin — it’s hard to keep from trembling with how good everything feels, all over.

frantic panting cuts through the sound of your whimpers as atsumu feels himself nearing his peak. it’s nasty, downright filthy, the way your nails drag down the wall tiles as you desperately hump your ass back into him.

gasps of your name and affectionate nicknames fall from his lips like a sacred prayer, blending into a whiny harmony as atsumu’s thrusts grow rougher.

“baby,” he chokes, voice tight. “ya better be close, can barely last.”

“tsumu, cum inside me,” you beg, skin burning and pussy squeezing uncontrollably, squelching growing louder. “p-please, i can’t— i’m gonna cum, ‘m gonna—” your body tenses, and the shower head falls to the floor with a clunk that neither of you register.

luckily atsumu looks down at the right moment, sees you squirt, pussy gushing onto his pelvis. as if your back arching and your clenching pussy wasn’t enough, he ends up cumming too hard, ribbons of white gushing deep into your awaiting pussy.

“fuckkk,” he groans, overstimulation setting in way too quickly and causing him to pull halfway out of your fluttering cunt.

“no, tsumu,” is all you can heave out, pushing back hard enough to send him into the wall behind him, muscled back hitting the tiles as he lets out a startled oomph. “wanna keep it inside, feels so good.”

— MIYA OSAMU

“samu,” you mumble into his lips, tossing a leg over his hip. he grunts, nose nudging your cheek as he pulls back. “yeah? what’s on yer mind, angel?”

“had a dream about a baby,” the words are spoken softly, and osamu’s fingers lightly graze your chin as he makes you look up at him. “i know it’s kinda stupid, but it was so..” your voice trails off sheepishly and there’s a pause before you admit, “you were such a good dad, samu, ‘n so sexy too.”

your bare bodies are bathed in the morning sunlight, warm and comforting as it peeks in through the curtains. this is the perfect moment with him, skin to skin, his cock still inside you as you kiss and talk about dreams of the future.

in his chest, feelings stir and ideas come to life in his head; osamu presses his hips forward with a hushed moan.

“well, i’ll give ya a baby, angel,” large hands smooth over your hips as he helps you turn away from him; then they pull you close, grabbing at your tits and tugging your nipples between his fingers.

“samu,” you sigh, words fading into a content moan as you feel his hips draw back, then advance forward, against your ass. “i want you to fill me up, give me everything.”

“only if ya take it all,” osamu huffs, tucking his face into your shoulder and closing his eyes as he starts to fuck his cock into you deeply. the thick tip kisses your sweet spot over and over, and if that wasn’t already overwhelming enough, your hand wanders towards your swollen clit.

somehow, osamu’s faster than you, releasing one of your tits and swatting away your hand before he’s finding your clit with his index finger and rubbing it in messy circles.

“s-samu, fuck— jus’ like that, don’t stop!”

your back arches against him, hips twisting as a heat spreads through your veins, fiery and intense in the best ways possible. the movement of your body and then the frantic clenching of your pussy is too intense for him; sharp whines escape his throat, muffled as osamu bites into your shoulder desperately.

“i-i— shit, ‘m gonna fill you up,” is all you can make out from his rushed mumbling, and you turn your head quickly, desperate for his lips.

“kiss me, samu. kiss me as you cum inside, please.”

it’s as though the words break him — his face twists as he kisses you, whole body tensing. he presses his cock deep, thickening and throbbing before he’s gushing cum and can’t seem to stop.

“ah, fuck,” he tosses his head back, fingers scrabbling at your nipples as his chest heaves against your back, heart pounding steadily.

you cum with a whine, grinding down on his cock in an effort to get him impossibly deeper. as you ride out your highs together, trembling deliciously, he can’t help but dissolve into giggles of pure happiness.

“angel, ya got that baby for sure, jus’ like ya wanted, hm? ah, i can’t wait for a mini-me or a mini-ya. yer gonna be the prettiest mom, swear.”

— KUROO TETSURŌ

“fuck, babe. you’ve got no idea about what i saw today,” tetsurō huffs, warm breath fanning over your tits as they bounce, controlled by your bra.

spices clatter as tetsurō sweeps his arm across the kitchen counter behind you, clearing the space so you can lean back a little easier. his grip on your thighs doesn’t waver, nor does the ruthless tempo of his hips.

“tetsu, what’d you see?” you gasp, tears threatening to pour over your waterline.

“well, i saw this family,” he grunts, thrusting into you particularly hard now that he’s recalling the memory. “the dad had their kid on his shoulders, and the mom was pregnant. they looked so happy, and it made me think of you.”

“is that so?” you ask, spreading your legs impossibly wider as an invitation. you bite your lower lip, rolling your hips against his in an effort to get his cock deeper.

“tetsu,” he raises his eyes from the mess between your legs to your face, earnest and flushed. “kiss me, baby.”

tetsurō obliges, lets you tug him forward by the chin, mesh his lips with yours. it’s warm and sweet, the aftertaste of the dessert you’d been making as his surprise for when he’d come home. your tongue slips between plush, parted lips and moves with his gently, quite a contrast from the rough way he’s fucking you.

“ah, shit,” he moans, struggling to kiss you back when he feels your sticky walls clenching down on his too sensitive cock.

tetsurō leans forward and buries his flushed face in your shoulder, kissing the tender skin a few times before nipping it and then finally biting down into your shoulder.

he practically loses it when you wrap your legs around his back, heels digging into muscle as you push him forward. in a hushed tone and into his ear, you say sweetly, “tetsu, fuck a baby into me.”

“oh, i fucking will, princess.”

although, despite his rough words, he’s wheezing and whining every now and then into your shoulder, hoping it muffles his sounds.

your hand slides up his neck and tangles into dark tufts of hair, pulling tight as your own orgasm approaches. your pleasure mixes with his own, and just before the knot in your belly snaps, you feel a strong pulsing deep within your pussy.

he groans loudly, burying his cock deep just as it starts to gush, painting your walls white. your nails dig hard into his scalp and the sting of pain only seems to make him get a little more vocal.

tetsurō pants into your neck, trying to find his bearings now that his limbs feel like jelly.

“hold me?”

— IWAIZUMI HAJIME

“h-haji, this was a good call..”

“oh yeah?” hajime’s voice rumbles in his chest, strong and steady against your back as he keeps your legs wide open. “have we ever tried this one?”

“i don’t think so, but we definitely will in the future.”

“feels that good, princess?” hajime chuckles, eyeing your reflections in the mirror mounted across the bed. for a moment, he considers the two of you puzzle pieces — he sees that his cock fits snugly inside you, and the thought that you may be made for each other briefly crosses his mind.

“of course it does,” a sheen of sweat glimmers on your face, skin glowing beautifully in the mirror. “god, hajime, y-you’re so deep..”

he notices your eyes falling shut, head tipping back, and he raises his hand to lightly smack your cheek. “mm, princess, gotta keep watching. i want you to see yourself cum, alright?”

“fine,” you huff, feet dangling in the air and bouncing every which way as he fucks into you, heavy balls smacking your pussy with each stroke.

“what made you wanna try this?” you ask, knowing you should save the question for later, but you’re too curious not to ask. why would your husband come home someday and randomly want to try a new position you’d never heard of?

“well, you know..” in the mirror, you catch the flush on his tanned cheeks. “we’ve both caught the fever recently, and this is a solid position for makin’ babies.”

you gasp sharply when hajime turns his hips ever so slightly, and the resulting sensation causes pressure to build in your pelvis. “shit— right there, haji, just like that..”

he grunts, body stiffening as he tightly holds you in place and fucks into you like it’s the last time you’ll ever be like this together.

“wanna get you pregnant,” hajime groans, abs flexing with the effort of maintaining his merciless pace, “i wanna—shit—wanna breed you.”

“you want it that bad?” you breathe, just barely keeping your eyes open and focusing on your bouncing reflection. “fuck me full, then, haji.”

hajime doesn’t question it, thinks of you with a swollen belly and milky tits all for him to hold and take care of. you, with your glowing skin and beautiful body from all the pregnancy hormones.

the idea of it all is too much to bear, not to mention cumming deep inside your cunt, this time with the intent to breed.

he can’t even muster the words to warn you that he’s cumming as hard as he is; after a choked, tight groan, he falls silent and rocks his hips into you.

“fuck it deep, haji,” you whisper, on the edge yourself. obedient and too far gone in his fantasy, he does exactly what you ask, whining very quietly from the sensitivity.

shaking on top of him and watching the reflections in the mirror, you cum hard, dissolving into unmatched pleasure. and you’re thankful you keep your eyes open, moaning at the very sight— hajime doesn’t even pull out, he’s still pushing his cock in and out of you, but cum races from your cunt in thick white rivulets.

“i’m trying,” he huffs, sensitive when he glances up and notices how intently you’re watching the mirror. his cheeks flush lightly when you both notice that most of his cum ends up dripping down his balls and out of you.

“don’t worry, princess. i’ll cum however many times it takes, sound good?”

— SUNA RINTAROU

“you want a few brats? oh, i just felt your pussy squeeze up. ‘s what you want, huh?” rintarou bites, harshness of his thrusts drawing whimper after whimper from your kiss-swollen lips.

“i want it, rin,” you feel one of his palms smoothing over the plushness of your lower stomach, just above your pelvis. “w-what’re you doing?”

he laughs at your stutter, keeps your legs steady over his shoulders. rintarou draws his hips back, leaving just his tip inside your quivering pussy. then, he presses down on your lower stomach and slides in, adding more pressure with each inch.

“rintarou!” you wheeze, jerking your hips to the side in a pathetic attempt to run away from the overwhelming pleasure he gives you with every movement, big or small.

“nuh uh, pretty girl,” his free hand grabs ahold of you tightly, tugs you towards him and then settles to rest on your neck. rintarou’s fingers are loose on each side of your throat, hand placed there in a demonstration of control. but what’s the point of that, when he’s already made it clear by hoisting your legs over his shoulders and folding you in half?

“you’ll take it, all of it.”

“but ‘m sensitive, i’ve cum too many times,” you can’t even recall a number or remember how long he’s been fucking you like this.

you’re both sticky with sweat, your thighs stained white with dried cum from previous rounds and marked with love bites he’d given you in his excitement to get a taste of your pussy.

it’s so fucking messy because rintarou’s the one who can’t stop asking to eat you out and push the cum back inside; you always say yes, then cum until you’re dizzy and can’t see straight.

you taste yourself from earlier on the corners of his lips when he bends forward and gives you a chaste kiss. “l-last time, okay? i’ll give you your brats, pretty girl.”

the sweet pout on your lips that’s quickly replaced with something else and wail of his name that leaves you when he starts jackhammering your pussy turns him on to the max.

incoherent babbling of what he’ll give you and how good you feel blend together, and before you can fully register it, rintarou’s folding forward with a deep groan. “shit, i’m gonna cum so fucking hard, i—”

he shuts up and gives you a few more thrusts before he’s pushing deep and cumming — he’s not done when he pulls out and covers your pussy in cum.

“r-rin, keep it inside,” you whine sadly, watching as he collects it on his tip and then plunges it back inside.

“jus’ needed some extra lube,” he says coolly, but he really just wants to cum all over you. “how’s it feel inside, pretty baby?”

“like i need some more.”

rintarou laughs at the way you turn away, cheeks hot in embarrassment because you were the one who wanted a break. “we are going out later, hm?”

your nod makes him smile, green eyes crinkling at the corners. “how about i cum in your panties and you walk around with ‘em?”

[alpali]

asking bestfriend!haikyuu boys for a kiss?

kenma

stares at you like you’ve grown two heads

LEEEETHAL. side eye.

“um. no.” He blinks

and you pout

“but why?”

YOURE HIS BESTFRIEND THATS WHY

but he’s also has had the fattest crush on you since like ever

yet he’s still skeptical

“what’s the catch?”

“there isn’t one…?” You tilt your head.

a blush rushes to his cheeks when he nods. your big eyes gleaming at him as you scoot closer

your hands cage his face and his lip juts out, staring at the side

when your noses touch he finally looks at you

a small gasp erupting from him when your lips finally meet his

it’s quick, between a peck and a kiss

you pull away with a smile, giving him an exaggerated kiss on the cheek

“Thanks Ken!”

“Mhm.”

he’s still thinking of the warmth from your lips

yuu

A KISS!?!;$:&;

F-F-FROM YOU!?!

he’s praising every deity known to man

THANKING ALL

for this grave opportunity

“I would be honored.”

he’s so fucking dramatic bye-

on a knee and a hand covering his heart

you snort at his reaction but he doesn’t let up

HES ALLL BARK NO BITE

because the minute your face to face

he is CRUMBLING

his whole body is buzzing, face completely tomato red

“So do we just, like just a kiss, or what did you-”

STEAL THE MANS POOR WORDS FROM HIS MOUTH

because your lips are on his and he’s on cloud nine

his hands twitch but they fly to your waist, squeezing it when you deepen the kiss

he definitely chases your lips when you pull away

successfully landing a peck that makes you giggle

he’s BREATHLESSsss

tsukishima

“Absolutely not.”

“Aw come on Kei, I don’t bite.”

you were his childhood bestfriend

he grew up with you!

And you wanted to kiss him?

scratch that.

just for fun?!

ok MAAAYYYYBE HES thought of it.

BUT ONLY LIKE ONCE…or twice…or

“just a quick one I promise~” you tease, pushing his glasses to the top of his head

he glares at you but of course you don’t miss the way his neck and ears flush red

“this is so dumb.”

As his hands literally circle the small of your back???

“You look cute right now.”

“You said kiss not compliment me.”

“I can’t flatter my bestfriend?”

“Just shut up and kiss me.”

“Oh?”

He’s gonna die from your teasing

Kei has the biggest soft spot for you so he always goes easy with the come backs

“You’re too tall!” You pout and he grins.

“Oh well.”

You take that as a challenge, pushing him on the couch and kissing him straight on the lips

HE IS FROZEEENNN

EYES WIDEEE

with a furious blush on his face

Literally panting after, staring at you in complete awe

osamu

Blushes almost IMMEDIATELY

but he absolutely swears he’s nonchalant

like bro you’re about to shit yourself.

He has to make sure he heard you right

“Ya want a kiss?”

You hum and he quirks a brow

He leans down swiftly, pecking you on your temple

You melt at the act but laugh

“No on the lips silly.”

“Yer crazy.” He huffs, crossing his arms

“Come on samu!”

“No.”

“Please!!”

He glances at you.

“This ain’t gonna change anything?”

“Of course not.”

You wanted to be reassuring but he wished you said it would.

“Fine, C’mere.”

HE ACTS LIKE HE DOESNT WANT IT

grumbling and everything

But the minute your lips meet his, he’s softening

At your disposal

His hands quickly cupping your face, pulling you into him

kinda a makeout sesh tbh….

You guys def had a lot to talk about after that…

© alplai

[lotus-pear]

horrendously late entry for @luneariann’s dtiys!! congrats on one million ely i’m so proud of you <3

[sodaneko]

❥ 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 ↳ 𝐰/ 𝐀𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐮, 𝐎𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮, 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐨, 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐦𝐚, 𝐎𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚, 𝐈𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐳𝐮𝐦𝐢 & 𝐒𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐬𝐚

a/n: reader is gn! i started drafting those during one of the first sticky hot summer nights of the year, then forgot about it until this came over me once again like a fever, and now here we are. i love writing drabbles because they force you to really think about the chars, how you perceive them and how to nail their unique personalities in 200 words or less. anyway, this is my first time writing for HQ after the brainworms got me down bad and i had lots of fun! hope you'll enjoy them too ♡

word count: 1.3k

𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐔 whines when you have the audacity to kick him back towards his end of the couch, catching your ankle and pulling you towards him in return, stubbornly ignoring your protests. Too hot to cuddle, my ass, he pouts, genuinely offended that you’d even consider that; when the only time Atsumu ever feels a sense of calm is when part of you touches him. Your hand playing with the shaved hair in the back of his neck, your leg hooked over his hipbone as you sprawl out in bed together, hell, even your icy cold feet shoved underneath his butt during winter. Something was missing when he couldn’t have your proximity. Yer so needy, Tsumu. So what if he was? He pulls you into his lap, face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, hands tightening around your waist. His breath fanning over your skin, hot and cool against it. Atsumu takes, he demands, but with you he is pleading, silent for once. Just a little longer–dreaming, breathing you in, kissing till he feels you smiling against his lips.

𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔 wears his hair shorter now, back at its natural dark color, too. You helped him buzz it off during one of those sticky summer nights. Both of you in nothing but your underwear, Osamu sitting on the edge of the bathtub in your cramped bathroom. One hand of yours holding a razor and the other clamped over your mouth because you horribly messed up a setting and now he had a funny little edge in his hair, throwing you both in a laughing fit. It was your first summer together and Osamu couldn’t help but hope that there would be many more like this to come, with your bodies orbiting each other, unable to keep your hands off despite the heat and the sweat, the air heavy and electric and yet so light whenever he hears you laugh. Nothing beats the feeling of lifting you up on the kitchen counter and your eyes lingering on his hands, shaping a midnight snack for the both of you, getting drunk on stolen glances and kisses. There’s many metaphors for food and love and right now, Osamu can taste them all on the tip of your tongue.

𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐎 hasn’t even kicked his shoes off at the entrance yet and is already loosening his tie, before slender fingers work down button for button on his shirt. He hears you laugh about his demeanor from the other end of the hallway. How lucky, he thinks to himself. To have someone waiting for him at home, making even long work days during the most miserable summer heat bearable. His shirt has barely hit the floor and he’s already on you, caging you in with his arms and covering every inch of your skin he can reach in kisses, despite your giggling and feigned huffing over how sticky he is, sending him to shower first (as if you wouldn’t come right after him). Kuroo purrs when your hands tangle in his hair. In the end you always pull him back towards your lips again, swallowing every little quip and taunt like candy, sweet and syrupy in your mouth. It reminds him how he fell in love with you many summers ago, his heart ablaze ever since.

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐀 is glued to the fan at this point. He even switched gaming from his desktop set-up to a handheld console, reluctantly admitting that his old house would heat up even more with his computer running at full blast. His expression really says it all when you approach him, silently pleading for cuddles. Kenma just can’t understand how anyone would seek someone else’s body heat when the sun outside was already doing a pretty good job in trying to end him. Still, he isn’t immune to your charms, never was (one time he mumbled something about your stats being way too high and how everything changed once he received a love buff of yours). When you hold out a popsicle as a means of bribery and blink at him with those damn soft eyes of yours, Kenma pauses his game and holds out his arms. He hums into the kiss you give him before sitting down in his lap, your lips tasting like ice cream and summer love. He rests his chin on your shoulder, face nuzzled against your neck, before he continues his game, letting you feed him the sweet cold treat. Summer might have become a little more bearable with you in his life–though he was already looking forward to many winters under the kotatsu with you. 

𝐎𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐖𝐀 is squishing your cheeks together, his thumb brushing over the corner of your mouth. Collecting evidence, but also wanting to feel your tongue poke out slightly against it, cheeky as ever. Just how could you eat the last ice cream in the freezer without him? He lets out an exaggerated huff, feigned indignation, both of you knowing he can never keep this up for too long–not when it comes to you. Oikawa leans down to kiss you, your face still in a tight grip, tasting the remains of the ice cream on your lips, as if you weren’t sweet enough already. Maybe he can be bribed for another kiss when you offer a midnight walk to the 7/11 down the street, promising to pay for a cool sweet treat to make it up to him. He had already forgotten what he was mad about the moment you leaned into the kiss, but he’ll never say no to a chance to hold your hand, even if it’s sticky with leftover ice cream and the summer heat. To Oikawa, love is stored in the mundane things, even if his love for you is anything but that.

𝐈𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐈 is standing in the kitchen past midnight, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers while he roams the freezer for anything to help him cool down; even a pack of frozen peas would do. He feels a pang of guilt for having peeled away from you, your form pressed so tightly against him in his sleep, it almost gave him a heat stroke–for more reason than one. Everything is sticky and airless and Iwaizumi is sure that if he would have glanced at you even a minute longer, his heart might have just given out on him. All this love he holds for you, burning him up from the inside, like a fever. He lets out a long exhale when he presses an ice bag against the back of his neck, but it’s not that what causes a shiver down his spine; it’s two arms sneaking around his waist from behind, your sleepy voice mumbling out his name, your body melting into his again. The first kiss pressed on the side of your neck is an apology, the second one a promise. The third–to devour you.

𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐒𝐀 grumbles something about you being too sticky and sweaty, making a weak attempt to shove you back to your side of the bed, only to pull you back by your hips when you actually do leave some room between you. He can’t help it, you fit so perfectly in the curve of his body, your back pressed against his chest, one of his knees nudged between your legs, all tangled up. It’s the perfect position to plant kisses on the back of your neck, too. Kiyoomi loathes those hot summer nights in the concrete city. He’d rather be somewhere else with you, somewhere to breathe more easily through this heat. Maybe you should move to the countryside, yes. A small house with lots of green surrounding it. Less people and noise, just you and him. Yeah, he would like that. He kisses the back of your neck once more and takes a slow, deep inhale of your sweet scent, before sleep finally crawls upon him again. For now he’ll endure this heat, anything, as long as he can hold you in his arms like this–and have a cold shower with you in the morning, maybe.

[unicornpopcorn14]

So we all know by now that Dazai is comfortable enough around Chuuya to show nervousness/worry.

Enough times for Chuuya to pick up on that pattern. The pattern, may I remind you, that doesn't have evident correlation to either nervousness or worry to most people. One that can even be interpreted as misplaced given the situation.

Which means that Dazai has done this in front of Chuuya so often, that Chuuya at first was hella confused, before he finally made a connection between when and why it happens. And still remembered that connection after four years of separation. Which gets us to my point:

What if this isn't the only emotion Dazai displays weirdly?

What if he has multiple unconventional patterns he displays for sadness, frustration, content, or disgust? The times he really feels them, and they become too strong for him to just deal with normally? What if these are the only times he's actually being genuine with his emotions?

And Chuuya is the only one who is familiar with them all?

Dazai would be jumping rope and Chuuya would be like, "quit sulking, let's get icecream"

Dazai hanging upside down on the couch and Chuuya going, "It's okay, mackerel. You can cry."

Dazai actually crying, full on heart-wrenching sobs, and Chuuya unironically going, "What, good news?"

It's just... comforting, for one person in Dazai's life to read him like a book. Everyone else would look at him like he's crazy, displaying wrong emotions/behaviors at the wrong time, but Chuuya knows that it's just how he processes feeling properly, and thus he's the only one Dazai can count on to put things into context and understand, which makes him display them even more openly.

Because Chuuya never shamed him for his quirks, as much as Dazai never did his.