ও summary. you work for an anonymous phone sex business on campus, and you would have never guessed that your first client would be the Atsumu Miya—most popular guy on campus who sits three seats ahead of you in calculus. and you’re pretty sure he doesn’t even know you exist. | wc. tbd.
cw/ tw. college au. nerd!reader, volleyball player Atsumu, phone sex, dirty talk, mild hurt/comfort, miscommunication, fraternity parties, rough sex, unprotected sex, praise kink, strangers to lovers
ও featuring. Atsumu x Fem!Reader
ও an. okay, i turned my self-indulgent fic into a multi-part fic:) please comment on this post if you’d like to be tagged. NOTE: the Taglist is closed
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
Please remember to read all content warnings before proceeding.
Part One—You get your first caller, and can’t tell why he sounds so familiar…until you do.
Part Three—Things get even more difficult when Atsumu needs help with his homework before his next game, and who better to help him than the class tutor.
cw/ tw. tba…
Part Four—The truth always finds a way of coming out.
tea’s note: haha just realized that ive been writing so much about the reader getting eaten out buuuut everyone deserves head so im gonna keep going hehehe, day 12 down, not proofread again sorry! maybe ill do it tomorrow probably not tho, enjoy anyways!! look forward to lauren’s fic tomorrow: megumi + aphrodisiacs!
wc: .8k
kinktober masterlist !
“Tsumu, I’m not sure about this,” you whisper, cheeks aflame as you hover directly over Atsumu’s open and drooling mouth. Your thighs tremble from anticipation and strain, letting out a meek whimper as you feel his hot breath hit your folds. “What if I hurt you?”
Atsumu barks out a laugh, he’s just so desperate to feel you on his face. You’ve been unintentionally teasing him for the past twenty minutes while you debate on whether to take a seat or not. It took ten minutes to get you to even bring your cunt anywhere near his face, and another ten of your hips floating right above him. Your pussy lips so close yet so far, just out of reach of Atsumu’s eager tongue. “You won’t, angel, now sit.” Atsumu’s thick fingers wrap around your thighs gently trying to tug you onto him.
You resist and pout. “But what if I suffocate you?”
“That’s the point, doll,” Atsumu sends you a lopsided grin, even though you both know he’s not joking.
“But-”
“No buts unless it’s yours on my face,” he’s been so patient with you all night, but now he’s getting restless. His dick twitches against his abdomen, bare, leaking and sensitive. One of Atsumu’s massive hands snakes down to grab it, giving a few rough pumps to keep himself at bay. This doesn’t help, in fact makes it so much worse when he sees the slick collecting at your core. His mouth waters, trying so hard not to buck his hips into his fist.
You glance behind you, hearing the raw slaps of skin on skin. You eyes widen and hole flutters as you see what exactly Atsumu’s doing behind your back. Being front and center of your reaction, Atsumu groans and raises his head enough to give your kiss a gentle kiss.
You jerk at the unexpected contact and glare down at him, tangling your fingers in his blond hair to hold his head down. You were intending to calm him down, but instead your action triggers the adverse reaction of Atsumu groaning at your force, hips jerking wildly.
“Baby,” his tone drips with desire and his half lidded eyes stare up at you pleadingly, “I can make both of us feel real good if you just. sit. down.” Both of Atsumu’s hands fly again to grasp your hips, pulling you unceremoniously down onto his face. After so much exertion of keeping yourself up, your thighs give in, allowing you to fully sink onto his extended tongue.
The wet muscle immediately laps up your juices, running over your slit repeatedly. The lewd noises Atsumu’s mouth makes leaves you squirming and bouncing on his face, completely overwhelming you. Your thighs squeeze the sides of his head deliciously, but not too tight that he can’t hear the sweet moans that fall from your parted lips.
Your hips rock into him harshly and you start riding him, angling your clit to brush against his tongue with every buck. The feeling of you losing yourself on him has Atsumu lightheaded and he’s drinking you in harder than before.
“Fuck, angel, you taste so good,” Atsumu’s growling between slurps, the intense vibrations on your folds has your eyes rolling back. “That’s it, sweet girl. Let me take care of you.”
And you do.
Your mind reels when you feel Atsumu’s tongue trace from your clit to prod at your clenching hole. Stuttering in his grip, he forces himself in. A wanton moan tears from you as you feel your walls stretch to accomodate the intrusion. His deft tongue hones in on the area that has you tightening around his tongue, stroking and flicking against it. His nose presses firmly against your clit and the sensations combined send you over the edge.
You throw your head back, fingers digging into Atsumu’s scalp as you cum on his tongue. A searing hot white blinds your vision and your form shudders in his secure grip. You ride out your high, Atsumu smugly enjoying his view from below. After only a few aftershocks still plague your body, you topple off of him, back hitting the soft mattress.
He gathers you in his arms, gently resting your head against his broad chest as he feels the tickle of your eyelashes fluttering shut.
“Get some rest, baby. We’re doing that again when you wake up.”
Blissed out and half asleep, you nod compliantly.
“Attagirl,” Atsumu smirks, kissing your forehead as you drift off next to him.
➵ kita shinsuke x f!reader
➵ 18+ only, minors dni
➵ contents: kita makes a simple wish.
➵ warnings: car sex, riding, creampie
admittedly, you probably could have waited until after the dinner to do this. until after returning to the safety and privacy of your hotel room.
but he’d looked so dashing in that suit of his, so serious and composed with his hair slicked back, one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting against the side of his head, and you just couldn’t help yourself. maybe a part of you deep down wanted to mess him up a little, ruffle his feathers the way he does for you just by looking like that.
you think you managed to restrain yourself fairly well up until this point, keeping your hands mostly to yourself as he drove the two of you from the hotel to the restaurant. it was only when he pulled into a dim parking spot behind the restaurant that you made your move, swinging your leg over the center console to settle onto his lap, ignoring the surprised sound he made. his adam’s apple bobs under your lips as you kiss his throat, slipping your hands between the two of you so you can undo his belt.
“ah…sweetheart,” kita breathes unsteadily, grip tightening on your hips when your hand curls around his cock, freeing it from the confines of his pants. “you’ll make us late.”
୨୧ ꒰ warnings ꒱ slight smut (mdni) (minor touching), established relationship, cooking for kita's birthday
୨୧ ꒰ word count ꒱ 0.9k
“There ya are, thought ya ran away from me or somethin’,” comes a sleepy drawl, and you smile knowingly to yourself.
Kita adores waking up to this: you dressed in nothing but his oversized shirt, easily swaying your hips in your shared kitchen as you cook breakfast. The smell of fluffy white rice and egg, mixed with some sweetened vegetables, permeates the air, and Kita swears he’s never been happier.
Turning your head slightly, you cease stirring the egg in the pan, having sufficiently scrambled it to your liking. Shinsuke looks adorably tired, pale strands of his hair messily ruffled on his head as he scratches the back of his neck, sleep still stained in his gaze as he makes his way towards you.
An easy grin makes its way onto your face as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back against him. His bare chest is still warm, carrying remnants of how soft and warm your bedding is.
“Happy birthday, Shin,” you tell him in a sing-song voice, happily humming to some random tune in your head. Ever insatiable, Shinsuke nudges his face in the crook of your neck, teasingly brushing his nose along the sensitive skin there.
“Thank you,” he muses, and you can hear the smile in his voice. Shinsuke presses his lips to your skin, trailing sweet kisses down the column of your throat, brushing his nose along your jaw before playfully, gently biting your neck.
Immediately, you squeal, attempting to wriggle out of his firm grasp. Shinsuke—expecting your actions—only tightens his grip around your waist, curving his body to lean over yours.
“Shin!” you cry, laughter ringing in the air. You quickly turn the knob of the stove, turning it off to avoid burning any food.
“That is my name,” he grins, mischievously, against you. The warm morning light that filters through the small window over the sink brightens Shinsuke’s face, and he’s quick to spin you around.
Pinning you to the counter, Shinsuke’s strong arms rest against the edge, the edges of his knuckles blushing slightly. You shoot him a playful look as you relax against the counter, raising a brow at his antics.
“Can I help you?” you question, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek. Shinsuke gives you a dopey, lovesick smile, instinctively leaning into your touch. He adores how your hand strokes his cheek, cupping his jaw, before trailing up and running through his hair. Your touch causes him to feel dizzy with love, especially when your fingers tighten through his hair, tugging ever so slightly on his roots.
Shinsuke follows your touch, allowing you to tug on his hair, causing his head to tilt back. Teasingly, you start to kiss his neck, tracing over a mark you left the previous night.
“Yeah,” he begins, the smile still evident in his tone. “I think ya can.”
His implications are clear, especially when he presses his hips forward. You feel his desire through his sleep pants, a tight bulge pressing against you.
He leans down to kiss you, and you gleefully reciprocate. His lips are soft as he smiles against you, hands thumbing at your sides. Shinsuke kisses you sweetly, and the smiles never fall from your lips, even as his hand cups your jaw, tilting your head so that he can brush his tongue along your bottom lip, pressing it into your mouth.
Shinsuke moans lowly at the taste of you, and he kisses you so slowly and intimately that you have to grip onto his biceps. A heady whimper falls past your lips as Shinsuke kisses you, slowly licking into your mouth, cupping your jaw as your mouth parts for him.
He breaks apart, smiling down at you as you chase his lips. It’s a sight he revels in, loving the sweet, blissed-out look on your face, now entirely distracted with thoughts of him. “Can I take ya to bed?” Shinsuke asks, tracing a thumb over your cheekbone.
Happily, dazedly, you nod, wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him one last time. Unable to help himself, Shinsuke lets two of his fingers trail down your side, tugging up the hem of his shirt that rests on your body, and slides them between your folds.
“Oh?” he asks, teasing. You playfully smack his chest, but you soon get interrupted as he slides his fingers across you, nudging against your clit, before he begins to circle the aching nub.
Not allowing him to get the upper hand, you quickly reach forward to cup his throbbing bulge. Shinsuke’s reaction is instantaneous: his hand on you falters, his hips jut forward, and a sweet sound spills past his lips.
“Oh?” you tease, a small smile playing on your lips.
Shinsuke takes a second, the dumbfounded look on his face quickly morphing into that of playful mischievousness. “Ya wanna play like that, huh?”
A short squeal slips past your lips as strong arms suddenly brace you, and Shinsuke easily lifts you up. His hands smooth over your thighs as he picks you up, and you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck. Laughter fills the air as you lean forward to kiss him, and he becomes distracted in the path to your bedroom.
“I thought the birthday boy gets whatever he wants?” he hums against you, still walking down the hall to your room. You smile and kiss his cheek as he repeats your words from last night, and nothing but love fills your chest for this sweet man.
“Yes, he does,” you agree, forever thankful for the boy who carries his love on the tips of his fingers, freely giving it to you in the purest form of intimacy.
contains: established relationship, implied childhood friends to lovers, pet name (darling & sweetheart), heavy petting, teasing shin -> teasing reader (still soft & intimate), handjob (clothed), reader takes the reins (all consensual), MINORS DNI
a/n: @sunkeiji sayu this one’s for you my love 🫵 since you reblogged that one kita post and it had me spiraling further into kita brainrot
Shinsuke is showering and you're sitting on the couch, patiently. He'd been gone for a week—a trip made for the sake of business—and while his short absence hadn't been something to mourn over, having him back was surely better.
You were in the living room when he came through the front door, towing a luggage bag tiredly behind him before setting it aside and removing his shoes. The wind outside biting angrily at his heels as it billowed into the home.
"Hi, darlin'," he had smiled, watching you make your way toward him with a bright expression, catching him in a loving embrace. Shinsuke held you to him, his fatigue made apparent in how he nudged his head gently against yours, kissing your temple between quiet words.
Lazy caresses soon turned into lazy presses of his lips to yours, one of his hands curling around your face and the other following the line of your back to pull at your waist. And as your own fingers twisted into his shirt, he told you, "Lemme shower first, 'n then you can have your way with me, okay?"
You had nodded, almost embarrassed at the forwardness of his words, letting him place one more kiss to your forehead, regarding the deep flush to his own face and his quickening breath.
Now, he steps into the living room with damp hair lying tousled along his brow, comfortable clothing replacing his sweater and jeans.
"Tell me about the trip," you say, head lolling onto the couch cushion to watch him walk into the kitchen before you ultimately find yourself rising from your seat to inhabit the countertops.
And Shinsuke does as you ask, making himself and you a cup of tea as he speaks: he recounts the drive there, the mild traffic and interesting scenery, the odd billboards with their odder advertisements; he recounts the people he met with, another generational company of rice farmers, the conversations he had with them.
You listen as he talks, his voice warm, almost veering into a murmur the more the story progresses. He catches your eye like he's anticipating a certain peak in this anecdote that he eventually reaches when he sets your cup of tea at your side, coming to stand in front of where you sit on the counter.
"And, of course, I missed ya'. But I'm sure you already knew that," he says, an undertone of laughter in his words that you hum pleasantly at, your hands bringing him closer. He heeds your silent request once more.
"Was it that bad to sleep all by yourself?"
Shinsuke's smile is wry when he offers it to you this time, stepping forward to lean his hip on the counter as he drinks from his tea. "Well, I can't imagine you slept any better yourself—someone usually wears ya' out at night."
You balk, truly. It's his favorite reaction, to catch you so utterly off-guard that you're left trying to start a new sentence and never quite getting it right. Instead, you opt to hit lightly at his shoulder. Because though the words weren't said in a sultry tone, weren't whispered in your ear, it's the blatantness, the brazenness, of the easily spoken comment. As if he was remarking on the weather.
Your slight laughter is almost chagrined, Shinsuke keeping your stare until you shake your head, looking away. Pin pricks of water darken his shirt where they've dripped from his hair, small circles that you follow with your eyes instead; sometimes, your lover held such intense expressions, it was easier to outline the planes of his body than to be willingly caught in however he looked at you. And he looked at you in many ways: lovingly, amusedly, seriously, happily, desperately.
Currently, Shinsuke has an expression on that only serves to worsen your blustering.
On a whim of coherency, you say, "I slept fine, actually. It's nice having the entire bed to lay in." The mirth is evident—simply a joke—to divert from your warmed cheeks.
Shinsuke leaves his tea on the counter. "Really?" he asks, chin tucking to try and catch your eye again as he brings himself further into your space.
You nod, simultaneously wanting to lean closer to him and push yourself further up the counter. Your face is impassive, save for the way you raise your brows when he crowds you with his hands braced by either side of you.
"Now you're just bein' cruel," he tells you, speaks it into the skin of your shoulder. He lays a kiss to the curve of your body there, one palm lowering to your knee. You can feel his breaths against you, his damp hair clinging momentarily to your skin.
With little warning, the hand propped behind your body for support moves down between him and you. Shinsuke gives pause, watching, waiting ever-patiently for you to touch him; when you do, cupping your hand to his clothed erection, giving him the opportunity for friction, Shinsuke's head falls back to your shoulder, his hips instinctually pushing against you as he moans quietly.
Your own breathing has picked up as you say, "Am I?"
There's the sensation of his nose pressing into the side of your throat, his lips parting, body curving around you to continue rutting into your hand. And Shinsuke starts slow, a few experimental undulations of his hips, before he finds a different rhythm: quicker, desperate. The palm previously on your knee now holds the wrist of the hand you have squeezing at his cock, his other white-knuckled along the counter.
He tries to say, 'Darlin',' like a warning, though it comes from his tongue in the shape of a soft whine. And you attempt to move your hand with him to help with the pleasure, but his grip on your wrist is tight—tight, but not uncomfortable. Lifting his head, he presses his forehead to yours, kissing you then, groaning into it when you murmur his name.
This is your favorite reaction of his, to see him panting, near whimpering at such a simple touch. To watch Shinsuke—the boy you've known since middle school, fell in love with in high school, the one to set others in line with his authoritative demeanor—fall apart in your hands like this.
The soft fabric of his sweatpants, and the erect outline of him, is pushed against you with more vigor, near humping your hand dazedly as his climax begins to lick at his skin, taking form in a deep flush and poorly restrained noises.
"I did miss you," you tell him, whispering it like a confession, as his brow pinches in pleasure, pinkened lips slightly open, nostrils flaring delicately as if he can't quite catch his breath. His expression retains its intensity, but this time you don't look away.
Shinsuke's chest heaves, nearly breaking into a sob. His biceps strain and twitch, the short sleeves of his shirt rising slightly to reveal the tan lines and sunned freckles he's accrued while working in the fields.
You continue, watching those prettily bronzed eyes fall closed; hanging his head between his shoulders, letting it rest beneath your chin when you stroke his hair, holding his head to you while his body trembles with each press into your hand because he's tortuously close. "There wasn't a day I didn't think about you, Shin."
At your words, he ruts roughly into your palm, once, twice, leaning his body weight further into it, almost causing you to stumble back, but Shinsuke catches you at the waist with the hand that had been grounding him to the counter when a choked moan snags in his throat. His subsequent strokes are gentler as he cums fully clothed, riding out his orgasm, the vibrations of his sounds barely muffled against your chest, and the wetness of it quickly staining his sweatpants and your fingers.
When he finally pulls your hand away, he lets you wrap it around his shoulder to softly tug him closer into the cradle of your arms. Shinsuke sighs, inhaling sharply for a brief moment when the fabric of his pants moves unpleasantly against his softening, sensitive cock.
You kiss the crown of his head; he leaves his own at the hollow of your throat.
Then, he asks, breathless, "You gonna let me fuck ya' to sleep tonight, sweetheart?"
୨୧ ꒰ synopsis ꒱ "you wrote one-hundred letters just for me. and I find them in my closet in the pockets of my jeans. now I'm constantly reminded of the time I was nineteen."
୨୧ ꒰ warnings ꒱ smut (mdni), timeskip!kita x f!reader, cursing, emotional sex, established relationship, mentions of high school confessions, reader and Kita attended high school together (but are adults now), lovesick!Kita, a lot of prose
୨୧ ꒰ word count ꒱ 1.6k, for @atsumeii (here's more Kita crumbs for you, lover <3)
Kita Shinsuke remembers the first time he saw you.
Which, coincidentally, was when he fell in love with you.
It was a warm spring day, and the sun shined down on you as if you were its bearer. The streams of light wrapped around your body like a warm embrace as you spoke to your friends between classes, and Kita soon found that you had him wrapped around your finger, too.
He concluded then that he saw the sun in your eyes as you held his heart in your hand, balancing it gently between your fingertips.
He offered you a letter conveying his crush, an innocent blush staining his cheeks in the way it only could in high school. Kita had tucked it carefully in his jeans — the ones he wore when he worked early mornings in the field before hurrying to school. They were old and slightly scuffed, the wash of the fabric lightening due to all the time in the sun.
Before tugging on his uniform, he’d gently folded the jeans in his school bag — silently begging that the folded envelope encasing the precious letter wouldn’t become creased or torn. He resolved that he would give you the letter during lunch — when he would have enough time to properly go through his bag and relieve the letter from his jean pocket.
You accepted gratefully, albeit a bit bashfully, feeling the warm brush of affection spread down your arms when your fingers connected, briefly. You smiled at him, and his heart throbbed almost painfully in his chest, his tongue becoming heavy in his mouth.
Even when the sun hardly peeks through the grey clouds, hidden behind a thick veil of rain and stormy skies, Kita still has the sun. It beams through you whenever you grin at him, whenever you glance in his direction, whenever you offer him your hand — the one that holds his heart.
Years later — now as adults — your love pours out of you in waves, and as the harsh thrum of the rain batters against your shared bedroom window, Kita is reminded of the fact.
The noise is comforting, and as the water pools on the window’s glass panes — cooling it from the harsh summer heat, he’s sure — it trails down in little droplets, the streaks of water collecting to form larger drops.
While the rain thrums steadily against the roof of your traditional home — Kita’s childhood home, surrounded by beautiful fields of growing rice paddies — he makes love to you on your shared bed, hushed breaths of promises whispered against heated skin.
Kita spreads you apart gently and lovingly; warm, calloused hands smooth down your soft skin. He regards you with awe present on his features, not hiding the part of his mouth as you suck him in, the widening of his eyes as you softly call his name. You reach for him, and he falls gratefully into your embrace, bracing his forearm above your head so he can hold you adoringly in the other.
Kita’s breathing deepens as he slowly rocks into you, reveling in the moment as you clutch to him. He makes love to you languidly, almost lazily, but the passion and pure, unadulterated love he holds for you is evident in every touch. When he kisses you, he does so reverently, parted lips brushing over yours to savor the feeling, not meaning to tease you even when he does. When he ruts his length into you, you can feel his desire spill from the aching head of his cock. When the pads of his fingers catch on the curve of your breast, you can feel it embrace you warmly.
You feel his long lashes flutter over your cheekbones as he kisses you again, still as soft as the first time, which had been slightly rushed due to the fear of getting caught, homework books scattered and forgotten between your bodies.
“Ohh,” you moan, and the sound is music to his ears. Kita holds you a bit closer, burying his face against the crook of your neck as your hands tangle in his hair. It’s messy now, he presumes, likely due to your repeated actions every time he presses his cock home inside you.
He lets his own pants and groans of want spill free, pressed against your collarbone as his lips brush over your skin. Kita’s breath is hot as if fans over your chest, trailing up your neck as he kisses you softly.
The warmth from the clean sheets surrounds you, and as Kita moves to lie down, his hands soothe up your hips to replace that warmth. “I wanna see you better,” he explains, thumbing down your hip, gaze catching onto where you’re connected.
With you now on top, Kita’s eyes can gratefully roam over your body. Similarly to when he confessed as a teenager in high school, he feels his tongue become heavy in his mouth, watching you ride him. Still, he makes sure to hold you against him as you sink down on his cock, blissful moans slipping from his mouth as the pleasure threatens to overwhelm him.
He feels dizzy with desire when you take his cock inside you — like you were made for him. Kita moans as he feels your slick coat his shaft, dripping almost obscenely down his balls, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Your tight walls wrap snugly around his cock, attempting to milk him of all his cum — and all his love he holds for you.
“Do I make ya’ feel good?” he asks, voice breathless and panting. It nearly causes you to swoon with how gruff and low his tone is — his sex voice, you will later tease him about, and laughter will be shared in oversized shirts pulled on hastily as you gently cup warm, steaming cups of coffee.
Kita’s hands grip your hips as he asks this, eyes still held open wide in admiration. His palms bleed warmth as they trace over your curves, dipping into every part of your body before he presses two fingers between your thighs.
The loud keen you let out is answer enough, but you know how much Kita adores it when you talk to him during such intimate acts.
“Yes,” you gasp, still maintaining the slow, languid pace your lover had set. It’s comforting, how Kita fucks up into you, meeting your thrusts halfway but still retaining the gentleness that emanates from him. “You always make me feel so good — I love you so much, Shin’.”
Your words have a clear effect on him; Kita swallows thickly, head rolling back to press against the pillow, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure. You feel his cock swell and thicken inside you, becoming almost impossibly bigger and filling you in the most intimate way possible. As you sink down on him again, you move even slower, moaning at every ridge of his cock, gasping as his fat, leaking tip catches along your entrance. You clutch hurriedly at Kita’s chest — blushing a light pink — as he stretches you open entirely, not stopping until your hips rest flush against his own.
He groans, allowing the full effect you have on him to be known, as he further spreads his thighs. It’s an action he doesn’t entirely understand; you’re already pulled flush against his body, with the entirety of his thick cock pressed inside you. However, the only thoughts running through his head are you, you, you, and the urge to feel closer to you doesn’t dissipate simply because you’re already as close as you can be.
Kita continues rubbing at your clit as you simply rest against him, panting from the exertion of slowly fucking yourself on his aching cock. It’s an adoring kind of intimacy that can only come from years of familiarity, trust, and love. Kita bites back a grunt as he feels you clench around him tightly, pulling his cock further between your walls as his fingers nudge at your clit. His touch is full of love as he pulls back the hood of your clit, grinning lopsidedly at the loud moan you let out.
“Always make me feel so good, too. Always loved ya’, ya’ know that? Ever since I first saw ya’ standing there. Fuck — ya’ had me even then,” Kita states, voice breathless and airy due to how you gush around his length. His words rush to your heart, sending a spike of adrenaline spreading throughout your body. The warmth settles low in your stomach, and all you can do is moan and whine at the pure honesty that laces his words.
He feels a bit desperate, his hands itching to hold you closer. Kita collects you in his arms, gathering your body against him as he continues carefully making love to you. He thrusts his cock between your thighs, smiling against your deep moans as you kiss him, wanting nothing more than to collect the sounds and encapsulate them into words scratched onto paper.
Like a letter.
“Ya’ have me,” he gasps against you, winding an around your waist as he sits up. He holds you on his lap, gently rolling his hips to grind his thickness into you, catching you as you fold into his touch. “Ya’ always have, and ya’ always will.”
And as the rain streams down the window, droplets pooling along the old glass panes, his gaze falls to the floor. The floor where, among a pile of hastily discarded clothes — hastily, yes, but gently peeled off as if you had all the time in the world — rests his faded, old jeans. And in the pocket of those jeans rests another letter, full of promises, pressed together carefully with love, just as he did when he was nineteen.
Kita Shinsuke is in love — fully, hopelessly in love, and he hopes you can feel it pour from him like he can feel the sun spill from you.
➵ kita shinsuke x f!reader
➵ 18+ only, minors dni
➵ contents: kita makes a simple wish.
➵ warnings: car sex, riding, creampie
admittedly, you probably could have waited until after the dinner to do this. until after returning to the safety and privacy of your hotel room.
but he’d looked so dashing in that suit of his, so serious and composed with his hair slicked back, one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting against the side of his head, and you just couldn’t help yourself. maybe a part of you deep down wanted to mess him up a little, ruffle his feathers the way he does for you just by looking like that.
you think you managed to restrain yourself fairly well up until this point, keeping your hands mostly to yourself as he drove the two of you from the hotel to the restaurant. it was only when he pulled into a dim parking spot behind the restaurant that you made your move, swinging your leg over the center console to settle onto his lap, ignoring the surprised sound he made. his adam’s apple bobs under your lips as you kiss his throat, slipping your hands between the two of you so you can undo his belt.
“ah…sweetheart,” kita breathes unsteadily, grip tightening on your hips when your hand curls around his cock, freeing it from the confines of his pants. “you’ll make us late.”
➵ kita shinsuke x f!reader
➵ contents: your husband takes up a new hobby
➵ warnings: suggestive themes, pregnancy
“…and loop there. yes, like that.”
you’re not exactly sure what you were expecting upon returning home after a long day at work, but the scene before you is certainly not it.
dropping your keys into your purse and pulling it off your shoulder to set it on the counter, you try to fight the smile that threatens to split your face open. your two favorite people in the world sit at the dining table next to each other, heads bent over whatever little project they’re working on. you lean against the wall, loathe to disturb them and content to just watch them work. eventually though, your curiosity gets the best of you.
“what on earth is all this?”
a basket on the table with balls of yarn piled in it. a strange stack of fabric next to it. scissors, sewing needles, a tape measure.
and, in your husband’s hands, a pair of knitting needles with an irregularly shaped piece of fabric attached to it. the stitches are neat and even, not something usually seen in the work of someone just starting out. but this is kita you’re talking about, and you know he doesn’t do things by the half measure.
kita looks up at the sound of your voice and blinks, taking a moment to come out of the intense focus he’d been in. the corners of his eyes soften and his lips turn up into a warm smile. “yer home.”
NSFW - MINORS + BLANK / AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED
content warning: smut, oral (m! receiving), light praise, gender neutral reader. atsumu has the tiniest pair of shorts known to man and boy do they look good on him
you look up from groggily checking the time on your phone when your lovely boyfriend speeds past the doorway of your shared bedroom.
a sly smile creeps onto your lips, and you call out, "where do you think you're going, handsome?"
it's bait and he knows it. he has a regular practice schedule, and you've memorized it by now, even the days when he's more likely to stay later and the different drills they have to do.
atsumu peeks his head in a moment later nonetheless, mischievous grin already in place. "i'm late, darlin'," he says, and doesn't look the least bit regretful or apologetic about it. he'd rolled out of bed mere minutes ago and thrown on a random set of his workout clothes, waking you in the process, and his hair is the perfect kind of messy and soft that gives you the urge to run your fingers through it.
you sit up a little more in your mess of sheets and pillows, knocking one to the floor and making him laugh, though you're pouting back at him. "at least kiss me goodbye."
his grin doesn't slip as he makes his way over to you, bag already slung over his shoulder. "wasn't gonna leave without givin' it to ya, baby."
you rub the sleep from your eyes just as he reaches you and pecks at your lips, and when your vision clears, you can't help your little gasp, eyes widening slightly, brows raised. "'tsumu," you breathe in awe, gaze sliding down his body in appreciation, honing in on the exposed muscle of his thighs, that smooth, golden skin you love so, peeking out at you from the tiny exercise shorts sticking to them that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination.
not that you needed to imagine.
the man in question only hums in acknowledgement, busy with kissing each of your cheeks and your forehead now, unperturbed by your open ogling.
"'tsumu, i repeat," you start again, swallowing around the saliva that's quickly collected in your mouth, before grasping him gently by the shoulders to get his attention. "where do you think you're going?"
atsumu looks down at you just a little bit confused, until he sees the lustful gleam in your eyes as you stare him up and down in a way that makes him beam with a surge of pride and confidence - a look he knows all too well, that makes his heart start to speed up.
"in these?" you continue, hands at his hips now, thumb stretching the waistband of his shorts and snapping it back against his skin, making him shiver.
he bites his lip to rein in the brilliant grin that threatens to break. "too late to change now, baby," he says, playing along and moving closer to you on the side of the bed, the lecture he can imagine his captain giving him later already fading from his thoughts as he lets his bag fall from his shoulder and onto the floor with a soft thud. he's already late, right? a few more minutes won't make that much of a difference.
"actually, i don't think you should." you rub at his hips and the dip of his waist over his shirt, fingers sliding down to squeeze gently at the supple flesh of his ass and making him jump slightly, chuckling.
"yeah?"
"yeah." you tug him even closer, lick your lips and look up at him, only to see the devilish smirk you wear mirrored back at you. "you look so good, baby."
"ya think so?"
"mhmm," and you sit him down on the edge of the bed so you can kiss him more fully, sparks of desire igniting into a full flame when you straddle him and feel that he's already hard, from your praise and lustful attention alone. "so fucking good, i could just eat you up," and you move your hips against his, making a breath catch in his throat, a soft whimper swallowed down in your kisses. "and i'm going to," and you reach into those tiny little shorts of his to pull his dick out, eliciting a quiet moan when you thumb at the leaking head and trace the prominent vein that lines the underside of his shaft.
you smile at him when you reposition, licking his precum from your fingers and making him groan at the sight before you're situating yourself on your knees on the floor in front of him. "fuck, baby, you're killin' me," he sighs without an ounce of frustration, eyes glittering with mirth instead.
you peel those lovely shorts along with his underwear down and off his strong thighs, lavishing them with affection, the prominent cords of muscle flexing a bit when you nip playfully at them. and when you're finally in between, it's almost euphoric for you too, popping the head of his cock in your mouth and letting his headiness burst on your tongue. "gotta make this quick, since you're late and all," you tease with a wink when you pop off, and it's all he can do to nod and laugh breathlessly. his fingers find your hair, gathering it up in his fist when you lave at his length, coating it in your saliva and earning a deep, satisfied groan when you relax your jaw and slowly inch him in.
by the time the tip of your nose touches the short dark hair at the center of his pelvis, drool drips down your chin, and your instinctual swallow around your mouthful makes his hips twitch.
"f-fuck, that's it, baby," atsumu whines, and your chest swells with pride at the strain in his voice, the unsteadiness of his breathing and the grip he has on the roots of your hair. there's something tender there, too, however, in the way he doesn't cease his praise, even as his voice fluctuates from whispers to moans and back again, gasping about how well you're doing, taking him so sweetly down your throat; in the way his other hand caresses your cheek, catches stray teardrops that leak from the corners of your eyes in exertion.
you both can tell he won't last long, so you double your efforts, tugging at his balls and twisting your fist around what you can't cover with your mouth. atsumu can't help bucking up to chase the wet heat of your mouth, the irresistible sound you make to spur him on when he nudges the back of your throat, cock pulsing against your cheeks, head thrown back and losing himself in your rhythm, the way you almost seem to be enjoying yourself as much as he is.
you pull away once more only to ask a question that nearly makes him cum on the spot, your hand taking over what your mouth had been doing for the moment. "i can take it, okay, gorgeous?" you have the audacity to wink at him, and atsumu swears he could marry you right then and there, with his dick in your hand and your voice raw and huskier than normal from him, reassuring him from your position though he feels like it should be the other way around.
he is gorgeous like this, so lovely with that glazed over look in his eyes, mouth dropped open and brows furrowed, trying to process the pleasure he's feeling so profoundly. he looks as if he could be sculpted from marble, your fingers squeezing at the plush of those irresistible thighs, just to make sure they're real though you're caged between them, and from this close you can freely admire how his abs contract with each drop of bliss you give him, eyes softening at the rare freckles that adorn his pretty skin in places only you've memorized.
wasting no time, you take him back in your mouth, lolling out your tongue to trace at the underside of his cock again, before pulling back to swirl at the head. atsumu squirms in his seat, groans an incoherent string of words he's sure wouldn't make sense in any language or iteration, because you're driving him absolutely insane and god, does he love you. before he knows it you're swallowing him back down your throat, bobbing your head and hollowing out your cheeks. when you pull back again and suction at the swollen tip, hand twisting at the base, his body seizes up, and you know he's done for.
atsumu all but cries out your name, nearly lost in the babble of curses and proclamations of love that escape him. you moan along with him in encouragement, the vibrations of your voice around his length making him shudder pleasantly and curl in towards you, back bowing until he can nearly kiss the top of your head even with your nose pressed snugly to his pelvis, swallowing down all you can, a small dribble of his cum and your spit escaping, dripping down the corner of your mouth.
when he finishes, mind reeling as he gasps for breath, he wipes at the mess on your face and massages your jaw, melting at the loving look in your eyes and laughing breathlessly, disbelievingly. "you're somethin' else," he says, and drags you back up into his lap, kisses you until you're just as breathless, humming at the taste of himself that lingers in your mouth when he pries it open with his tongue, slow and deep, in quiet appreciation.
"and you're really late, baby," you tell him when you manage to gather the willpower to pull away from his lips.
atsumu grins against your cheek, you can feel it scorched into your skin when he trails up the line of your jaw to nip playfully at your earlobe. and then he's moving you, shifting you easily in his strong arms to lay flat on your back on the bed, the speed of the motion evidence of his eagerness. it makes you giggle. he only hums, barely looking up from his self appointed task of branding his lips into every part of you he can, settling in between your thighs. "there's somethin' i gotta do first," he drawls, sending pleasant shivers down your spine as he carefully moves your legs over his shoulders, that dangerous, hungry glitter in his eyes that makes your thighs squeeze around him instinctively.
you laugh, giddy even as your arousal spikes and bleeds into the rest of your body, fingers finding the soft blonde of his bedhead as he ducks his head with a grin just as carefree and joyful.
Synopsis: beefy men using their weight to their advantage during sex
Notes: I learned that wonho is less beefy than bokuto, atsumu and others and I haven’t been the same since. Just eagerly horny to be crushed, like please sit on me.
warnings: fem body parts, public sex, handcuffing, MAJOR breeding kink, manhandling, unprotected sex
suna who fucks you up against the wall of the janitor’s closet. you’re the manager for his team and have been in a secret relationship for the past few weeks. it’s safe to say that the sexual tension between you two had increased overtime. most of the time it was the cause of you doing innocent things like bending over, chewing on your bottom lip, laughing at something someone said or the worst, touching another player as you help them. suna is notorious for getting jealous and in result fucking the shut out of you. you have your legs around his waist, his hips are doing most of the grunt work out of anger. not only are they holding you up but their movement causes rin’s fat tip to hit up against your gspot every time. your eyes roll back in your head and before you can let out a moan, the middle blocker shoves two of his fingers in your mouth. “look at you, acting like a bitch in heat around my cock right now. if you can’t shut the fuck up ill give you a reason to be loud.” he hissed, pressing more of his weight into you. but it doesn’t matter how quiet you are, not when anyone within a 20 foot radius could hear his fat balls clapping against your ass and the ‘thump thump’ of the door…
atsumu who drags you both to the rooms at the victory village to test out the beds durability…and your flexibility. you’re there for gymnastics, he’s there for volleyball. the minute he got alone time in the room without any of his roommates, he didn’t hesitate to tear off your clothes and his. next thing you know you’re folded over in a mating press, your boyfriend pounding your cunt. you’re a bawling mess as his pace doesn’t let up and your breathing is restricted because of his weight. if atsumu is one thing, he is thick. his muscular thighs hug your sides, caging your body. the place where both of your bodies meet is obscenely messy. there’s a loud squelch from every time the faux blond pulls out and he can’t help but crave more of it. he wants you be entirely ruined for him. and that’s exactly what he’s going to do. he’s going to go for as long as it takes to break you. “you can take more can’t ya angel? gotta see just how good these beds are…and how far i can spread these pretty legs.”
ushijima who batters your pussy with his absolute fat rod of a cock. the ace hadn’t used his full strength in the past but when you begged him to, saying that you could ‘handle’ it, you really didn’t know what you were signing up for. currently he has you laid out for him pretty on the bed, hips pounding your ass and causing your whole body to move up the bed each time. “t-toshi, slow down…” you whine, trying to grab his forearm but failing. he only takes your hands and pins them down to the bed, his hulking figure smothering yours as he readjusts his hips to move at a faster pace. a shrill cry escapes you as you lay there, unable to do anything but take it all. the ace tsks at your whining and shakes his head. “you asked for this love. you said you could handle it so that’s what you’re going to do. you’re going to be a good girl for me and take it all. got it?”
bokuto who absolutely lost it when he saw you holding your friend’s baby at a party you two went to. he can’t help but imagine you pregnant with his child and how cute you would look. that night when you both got home, he pushed you both into the bedroom and shut the door. bokuto pulls off your bottoms before removing his own. he strokes himself and whines when his hands come in contact with his sensitive balls. the man is just about ready to burst. he hooks your legs around his waist, instructing you to lock your legs together. the first time he pumps his load into you, there’s an animalistic look in his golden eyes as he feels your cunt milk him so well. he has you laying on your stomach, his weight basically on top of you as he drills into your pussy again and again. the best you can do is hold onto his arms and listen to his grunts. the poor baby has overstimulated himself for so long that he has both of you shaking. “i’m sorry baby, can’t help it…need to make sure that i fuck a baby into you by tonight. i can’t wait any longer-ha, you’re going to look so beautiful carrying our babies…my babies. you’ll give me a whole volleyball team, right? they’re going to look so cute…”
hate fucking with osamu. you’re business rivals and your relationship has never been the best. there is constant bickering and criticism of food ideas and recipes, often getting the better of you two. but one thing neither one of you two could admit was the underlying sexual tension that’s there. so one day when he sees you flirting chatting with another restaurant owner, one that you happen to be on way better terms with than him, he snaps. osamu marches over to your restaurant and drags you into his own, not caring that he interrupted your conversation. you sputter and complain the entire time, calling him an ‘asshole’ and a ‘human with no decent respect’. but as soon as he’s in his office he shreds your clothes before he fucks you over a chair near the window. he presses your bare body against the glass. “not so talkative now, are ya?” he breathes into your ear. “yer such a slut, anyone could walk by and see ya like this and you’d like it, wouldn’t ya?” he pushes your tits against the transparent surface, groaning when your plush ass grinds back on his cock. you whimper in response, the pressure too much but he only pins your hands above so they can’t move. “aht aht baby, you take what i give ya.”osamu really hopes that the man can see how well he fucks you and that he’s the only one who can make you feel this good.
daichi who handcuffs your wrists so you can’t move or touch him as part of your ‘punishment’. currently he fucks you from behind, his strokes slow and deep. each time he fully thrusts back in you feel yourself coming close to release but then daichi deprives you of it by pulling away. you whine, your hand itching to grab ahold of his thick thighs to bounce yourself back on him. “what’s wrong, baby?” he asks, thrusting into you for the umpteenth time. “want more, dai. want your cock.” “but that’s what i’m giving you right now, right? i’m being a lot nicer than i should be aren’t i? maybe if you ask politely i’ll let up on your punishment.” he doesn’t have to tell you twice. “please fuck me harder, i’ve been good m’deserve it! i promise i’ll be on my best behavior!” you plea, trying to back into his touch. he chuckles before he yanks back your tied up wrists so you’re pressed flush to his chest. he swiftly grabs ahold of your thighs before pinning you under him. police training has really paid off, huh? next thing you know daichi is bullying your cunt, his pace unruly. there’s nowhere for you to go or budge. instead of begging for more you’re now begging him to slow down. your thighs cramp from where he holds you in place and you hear him snicker. “but this is what you wanted, right? this is what you were begging for? my cock? i don’t think criminals get to decide what they don’t or do get and when.”
do not copy and or repost. likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated though! (c) 2022 hyque
contains: suggestive photoshoot w/ atsumu, bestfriend!atsumu, mutual pining, no confessions, major sexual tension, teasing!atsumu, suggestive posing
warnings: minors and ageless blogs dni
a/n: i can envision this scenario applying to many of the hq men, but atsumu is hot on the brain rn so yall are getting atsumu content lmaoo
Atsumu is smiling at you. It's a pleading expression in how it falters when you don't answer his question immediately. His raised brows begin to crease, his excited eyes smooth into a wince; and his smile toes the edge of a grimace.
"Ya' don't have to if you don't want to, ya' know?" he tells you in supplication, leaning back in the kitchen chair opposite you.
Atsumu has just asked you to participate in a photo shoot with him for a men's apparel magazine.
You part your lips to speak, your stare moves along the table, to your hands, then to your best friend of many years. He's waiting with bated breath for you to say something.
"I thought they usually have models to do that kind of job?" you ask hesitantly, a bit quiet. Atsumu had told you that the photo shoot was directed for an adult audience, which likely called for a serious and sensual atmosphere if his mitigation of 'I don't think I'd be comfortable takin' those kinds of pictures with someone I didn't know' was anything to go by.
"They do," he says slowly, scratching idly at the side of his nose. You're regarding him with a wary expression and Atsumu is beginning to worry he may have nudged a boundary too much.
You're silent for a moment before you ask, "Would I be getting paid?"
And Atsumu near perks upward. "Yeah, you'd be gettin' paid for your time on set."
"Okay," you nod, mulling over his words. "I'll think about it.
-----
By some whim, you say yes. Atsumu's elated when you call him the next day to tell him of this, and he begins giving you a base outline of how the photoshoot will go.
"We'll have to be there by seven," he had said, "in the mornin'." You'd groaned at this.
"They won't position you for your face to be in frame if ya' don't want it to be."
"It'll be an all-day ordeal, so we'll eat on set or get somethin' in the area."
And you had listened to him intently, a new anxiety forming at the internal question of if this had been a good idea to agree to.
-----
You were right to be worried, truthfully, but you'd been worried for the wrong reasons.
An older woman is powdering your face now, painting a natural-colored lipstick to your lips. Your hair has been styled and set; they've put you in a set of clothing that accentuates your figure, a color to liven your skin.
You're amazed at these peoples' work, but your thoughts have long wandered to how Atsumu might look. And unbeknownst to you, he's been pondering the same of you since you'd said 'yes.'
When you're guided to the set, he's already there, talking with one of the photographers. His hands are moving as he speaks, his attention on the person in front of him until the man leading you brings you over.
"She's all yours," he tells Atsumu cheerily.
Atsumu is no longer speaking to the photographer, his focus is now on you. And he's opening and closing his mouth, blinking a bit, shaking his head lightly; they're miniscule movements, really, but they’re painfully apparent to him.
You're devastating, he thinks. You're devastating and beautiful and you've always been, though he's never quite gotten the chance to tell you so.
He recovers quickly, offering you a lopsided grin. "Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" It's stupid and ridiculous and he knows but he's too addled to say something more clever.
Soon enough, the photoshoot begins. A younger woman is guiding Atsumu and you into different positions, looking back to her director for approval until she settles on one of the earlier poses.
You're sat in a plush chair; it's a finely made piece of furniture, undoubtedly expensive. And Atsumu is at your feet, settled lazily between your legs that bracket either side of him. You're both facing the camera and you're grateful because if he turned his head ever so gently to the side, he'd be flush against the inside of your thigh. The thought has your cheeks warming.
You let them take their pictures because this is your job for today: sit pretty for Atsumu and do as you're told.
He shifts on the floor, his shoulder inadvertently pressing to your knee. They ask you to set your arms on the armrests. They have him turn his head, tuck his chin, look to the left.
You're suddenly taken out of your listless state when Atsumu curls his fingers around the curve of your calf and lifts your right leg to rest on his shoulder. You tense and you're aware he feels it when he taps gently on your ankle.
There's a collective excited murmur from behind the cameras. Atsumu is beginning to take the lead now and the director seems to be enthralled with his enthusiasm.
Though, all you can focus on is the warmth of his hand laid heavy on your lower leg as he keeps it in place. He's circling a callused thumb on your skin in what he likely believes is soothing but is near driving you insane.
He does it for many more poses.
He takes that same initiative when your body, only below your chin, is in frame with his. You're still in the chair, and he on the floor. However, Atsumu is facing you now, a hand placed behind him to prop himself upwards as you press one heel to his chest and he holds it.
And Atsumu is enjoying this photoshoot even more than he had initially thought. He finds himself reveling in being able to look up at you with that hazed over expression because when else would he be granted the chance to do so unabashedly and with an excuse?
He also becomes terribly interested in how your body reacts to him. If he moves with little warning, you're startling under his touch, almost jumping at the contact. If he's facing you, you look absolutely flustered, glancing to him and away again.
There are wardrobe changes and there are times the director asks for Atsumu to forgo any clothing on his upper body. He's always more than willing to comply.
Especially for the final pose the two of you are asked to do before lunch break is called. You're on the floor with Atsumu now, though you're lying on your back while he hovers over you.
"Stop that," you hiss when he raises his brows suggestively at you, the usual bite to your words lost on the way he, again, brings your leg up to rest on his shoulder.
"What?" he asks innocently, peering down at you before sitting back on his knees. "'M just doin' what they're tellin' me to do."
He adjusts your leg to lower it, your ankle now beside his face. The camera is positioned adjacent to the two of you, so Atsumu is looking to his left. Truth be told, he'd rather be looking at you, sprawled out below him; he'd rather be at home, in his own bed, with you in such a compromising position, but he'll make do.
Atsumu is dipping his face downwards a tad, and the photographer says, "Keep that pose, it looks great on camera." The corner of his lip twitches up before Atsumu is pressing a kiss to your ankle, right on the buckle of the heel. And his placement is purposeful, he's scarcely grazing skin but he knows you feel it, he knows you're watching him.
character: miya atsumu
words: 600+
tags: fluff. female reader.
notes: this is really all @augustinewrites’ fault
“hey,” atsumu’s familiar voice says, but it’s odd. the words are low and menacing, and you’ve never heard him this threatening in the months that you’ve been dating.
it makes you freeze in your tracks, halfway through the kitchen from the living room, the objective of getting a drink for your date forgotten.
he speaks again. “i’ve had just about enough of you."
what? you turn back to look at the doorway to the living room. did you do something?
"i know what you’re doing,” atsumu says in a hiss, and you try to rack your brain for explanations. who’s he talking to? is he on the phone?
you hear a growl, and an unmistakable feline hiss. your eyes widen when you realize he’s talking to your cat.
CW: lots of swearing, furries (idk if I need to put a warning for that?? I‘ll just put it here like I do w/every kink/fetish related stuff lol), descriptions of violence
A/N: I‘m having WAY too much fun doing these quotes,,, if you want more parts/ other shows let me know!! Requests are open so feel free! 🤍
anyways small shinsuke thought b4 i go to bed. is the type of guy to ring u every night before u go to bed and when u ask him why he just mf goes “oh. i wanted to hear ur voice before i sleep. it helps me rest better.” he’s just being honest in his eyes yet ur on the other side of the phone like 0_0 “WHAT DID HE SAYYYYYY” and he chuckled when u try to mumble out a reply. I’m Sorry (no i am not mr shinsuke ur hand in marriage)
it’s 5:25am (five minutes before his alarm is set to go off), but kita’s already awake due to his phone buzzing insistently on the nightstand. his first thought naturally goes to you. what if you need him?
he rubs the sleep from his eyes and sits up, grabbing the device and scrolling through the pile of messages. it's not you, apparently the miya twins have woken up in a mood, and they wanted everyone in the group chat to know it.
sometimes, it feels like he's never left high school.
[atsumu] how long do i boil an egg if i want the yellow kind of runny but not too runny?
[omimi has left the chat]
[osamu] are you stupid or are you dumb
[atsumu] are YOU stupid or are YOU dumb?
[osamu] what a weak comeback
[osamu] you’re dumber than a bowl of oatmeal
[atsumu] thicker*
[gin] dumber
[osamu] https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=N_m5Mwb6U5w
[osamu] how you actually live alone confuses me
[suna] shut the fuck up it’s not even 6
[atsumu] but i want soft boiled not hard
[osamu] just scramble them the way your brain was when you were dropped
[suna] damn lol
[atsumu] i’m telling ma you said that
[osamu] doesn’t matter cause i’m the favourite
[atsumu] no you’re an accident
[suna] you’re literally twins
[atsumu] but i’m older
[aran] google says less than six minutes
[atsumu] for what
[aran] the soft-boiled eggs.
[atsumu] oh thanks :D
[atsumu] also does anyone wanna hang out today??
[aran] no.
[suna] nah
[osamu] no i have work
[atsumu] D:
[aran] osamu isn’t your restaurant closed on sundays?
kita doesn’t think engaging is wise, so he closes the chat, instead checking if there are any messages from you he might have missed.
but there's nothing after the night before, when you’d texted him goodnight.
there’s a little red heart emoji beside the text that still makes him smile as he shuts his phone off, doing a few stretches before heading off to the bathroom.
13:30
kita pulls his cap off, using his forearm to wipe at the thin sheen of sweat on his face as he makes his way back towards the farm for lunch.
he’s sitting on the edge of the deck and shaking the mud from his boots when he hears it.
a single, sharp whistle from his gran in the garden. kita immediately looks to the front gate, where you’re currently parking your bicycle. his gran flashes him a toothy smile and a wink.
he runs a hand through and shakes his hair out a bit, sweeping aside the strands that are stuck to his forehead. he can feel the sweat staining the back of his shirt, but he figures you won’t mind.
(you certainly never let it bother you last week, when you’d ridden him in the seat of their tractor immediately after a day of work.)
you’re coming up the dirt path now, the light sundress barely brushing the hems of your knees and doing things to his body that shouldn’t be happening this close to his grandmother.
you stop to chat with her for a few minutes, kita taking the chance to sneak into the house and lean over the kitchen sink. he’s washing his hands and splashing some cool water over his face when the scent of fresh bread wafts through the room.
he twists to greet you, water dripping down the sides of his face and making him glisten in the afternoon sun.
“hi,” you smile, setting two loaves of sourdough on the table.
“good afternoon,” he grins, opening his arms to let you step into them, wrapping your own around his waist. “what are you doing here?”
humming, you press a light kiss to his jaw. “i came to check on you and see if you’re still up for tonight.”
kita, in turn, presses a kiss to your forehead. “like i’ve insisted almost every day for the past week, of course i am.”
the two of you are headed into the city tonight to meet your parents for dinner. he thinks you’re more nervous than you are at this point, with all the little check-ins and offers to reschedule.
“okay, okay,” you laugh, sounding a little lighter. “here, let me help you make lunch.”
he pouts a little when you slip out of his hold, grabbing one of the loaves and rummaging around the cabinets for a bread knife. while you slice a few pieces, kita grabs some deli meat and lettuce from the fridge, setting them on the counter along with a pitcher of water.
“my dad’s probably going to ask you something cliche, like what your ‘intentions’ are with me,” you sigh as he lets his hands skim up and down your sides. “so just be honest.”
kita knows what his intentions are, and he knows that you know them too. one day he’s going to build a life that you deserve, and more.
but today he feels like teasing, so his lips brush the shell of your ear as he whispers, “and what if my intentions are to fuck you into next week?”
he smirks when he feels you shudder against him, gripping the counter when his hands slip up past the hem of your dress, giving your ass a light squeeze. “d— do you want turkey or ham on your sandwich?”
“doesn’t matter,” he murmurs, kissing down the column of your neck.
he’s toying with the hem of your panties when the front door opens, accompanied by a shout of “shin-chan!” from his grandmother.
he pulls his hands away and places a quick kiss to your warm cheek. “looks like we’ll have to wait until tonight.”
[omimi has been added to the chat]
[atsumu] guys i’m bored. someone play imessage games with me
[osamu] you’re literally sitting in my living room
[atsumu] exactly. gettin bored of seeing ur ugly mug
[aran] you have the same face.
[aran] and why are you guys texting? just talk to each other
[atsumu] no
[osamu] no
[suna] atsumu we were playing 8 ball last week and you still haven’t played back
[osamu] cause you were about to win
[atsumu] no!!! i didn’t see the message
[suna] lol read receipts are on
[suna] attachment: 1 image
[osamu] confirmed: the only thing miya atsumu can finish is himself
[suna] HA
[aran] oh my god
[atsumu] kita-san please help i’m being bullied :(
[atsumu] can i run away to your farm because i’m obviously not appreciated here
[kita] no.
[atsumu] :’(
[kita] i have an important date tonight.
[kita] and no, you can’t come.
22:13
“you said all the right things tonight,” you breathe between kisses that taste like red wine. “dad really likes you. pretty sure mom is in love with you.”
the ‘build a life’ speech he’d been practicing for the past two weeks had earned him an approving handshake from your father and a tight hug from your mother.
he’s pretty sure it’d worked on you too. he’s always had you, sure, but with your parent’s stamp of approval, now he has you for good.
and you’re showing him, alright.
cause now you’re tugging his loosened tie over his head, tossing it somewhere onto the floor as he fumbles with the buttons of his shirt. once it’s off and out of the way, he walks the two of you backward until the backs of your knees hit the mattress and you fall into a heap on the bed.
his phone buzzes and lights up insistently on the nightstand, your eyes briefly flicking to it as he works your tights down your legs.
“they always need you, huh?”
“they don’t matter.” kita reaches for his phone, flipping it screen-down and pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. “only you do.”
[atsumu] who here has met his girlfriend
[aran] i have. multiple times
[suna] i’ve met her once or twice
[osamu] yeah she comes by the shop when he makes deliveries
[atsumu] WHAT??? am i the only one who hasn’t?
[osamu] maybe he’s embarrassed of you
[aran] ^
[suna] ^
[atsumu] that can’t be it i’m the coolest one here
[osamu] you must mean funniest cause that’s a joke if i’ve ever heard one
If there’s one person at Inarizaki who knows all the drama from the volleyball team, it’s Suna Rintaro. Ginjima gets hit in the face by a stray spike? Suna has his phone out. Aran mumbling unflattering words about Atsumu? Suna has his phone out. The twins are fighting again? Suna has his phone out. But for the first time, Suna lacks his phone when he’s standing around the rest of the team for a water break in the middle of practice. The gym is far too hot and all the boys are sweating, tired from the amount of practice they’ve been putting in. But it isn’t long before Kita’s calling them back to the court, ready to run more drills. It’s a routine, one that their captain has established once he was given his position as a leader. And while the twins (mostly Atsumu) may complain, Kita’s never-wavering resolve remains the same.
Until you enter the gym. You’re no stranger to the team, you’ve come to pass on bento boxes to the third years occasionally. But it’s not as if they all know you very well. On a normal day, everyone would call out a greeting to you before getting back to their drills, glancing over at you every so often to see what you were doing. There were days when you would sit on the side of the gym with their team manager, pulling out your textbooks and paper to get work done. Other days you would watch with fascination as the boys practiced drill after drill, nothing but hard determination evident in their eyes. And today feels no different, as you slip through the doors with a wave. But Suna notices the smallest of details, and he’s suddenly aware of how often you’ve been glancing at Kita within the last few seconds of you entering. And to his surprise, their captain is looking back over at you with furrowed brows.
“Kita.” You’re suddenly aware of all the eyes on you and nervousness floods your mind but you clear your throat and call out Kita’s name, asking if you can talk to him for a moment. This throws off the entire team. Because Kita sticks to routines, and they’re sure he would ask you to wait until their next break, but then Kita’s murmuring to Aran before leaving the court and guiding you to the sidelines. There’s a hint of a smile upon his face, eyes softening as he reaches to touch your arm gently. None of them can hear what the two of you are talking about, but that doesn’t mean they can’t try to figure it out. You’re both talking in hushed voices and then suddenly a grin breaks through your features and you’re laughing at something Kita’s said. And now Suna’s itching for his phone so he can record every second that’s playing out in front of him. He, and the rest of the team can only watch in surprise as a smile graces Kita’s lips, his eyes crinkling as laughter slips from his own.
Aran snaps him back to attention, reminding him to pay attention to the drill. But it all goes down the drain when Suna sees you reach for Kita’s hand and move closer, your lips pressing a quick kiss to his cheek and murmuring a goodbye before you’re swiftly making an exit to the gym. There’s lingering colour on Kita’s cheeks and everyone sees. And Atsumu’s loud, his shock ringing out through the gym as he’s suddenly advancing upon Kita with questions pouring from his lips. But their captain’s face has returned to its usual stoic features as he raises his eyebrows with unamusement.
“Is it so odd for my girlfriend to visit?”
The twins’ jaws drop. Aran looks amused. And Suna immediately goes for his phone.
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