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Chomp You!—⁠☆

Summary: Your boyfriend making you feel seen.

Warnings: fluff, cubby!female!reader x hq!boys, insecure reader(kinda), can trigger eating disorder but is not too serious, pinching, and lots of fluff.

Characters: Tsukishima Kei, Kuroo Tetsurō, Sugwara Kōushi, Nishinoya Yū, Akaashi Keiji, Lev Hiba, Kageyama Tobio, Kenma Kozume.

A/N: I included as many characters as I could since it wasn't stated in the request and should I continue it?

✯Tsukishima Kei*⁠.⁠✧

The Karasuno gym echoed with the sound of volleyballs smacking the floor.

You sat on the sidelines, scrolling on your phone as you waited for practice to end. It was supposed to be quiet time—until you noticed Tsukishima’s gaze flick toward you for what had to be the fifth time in two minutes.

When you caught him looking, his eyes darted away, and he muttered something under his breath before adjusting his glasses like that would hide anything.

You smiled. You knew that look. It was his “I’m pretending I’m not soft” face.

Practice ended soon after, and as the rest of the team collapsed into laughter and chatter, you stood to hand him a towel. “Good job today, Kei.”

He took it with a noncommittal hum, then looked down at you—tall, tired, and pretending to be uninterested. “You didn’t have to wait.”

“I wanted to,” you said, cheerful as ever.

That earned you an eye roll and a faint flush creeping up his neck. “You’re ridiculous.”

Before you could retort, you felt his hand reach out—and then, pinch.

Right on your cheek.

You gasped. “Kei!”

He didn’t even look embarrassed. “What? You’re being smug.”

“I wasn’t—hey!” You swatted his hand away, cheeks puffing up. “That’s mean.”

He gave the smallest, most traitorous smile. “You look like a hamster when you’re mad.”

That, unfortunately, was the exact moment Hinata and Kageyama turned around.

“TSUKISHIMA’S SMILING!” Hinata shouted, pointing dramatically.

“Did he just—pinch her cheek?” Kageyama blinked like he couldn’t believe it.

In an instant, the whole team looked over. Tanaka whistled low. “Yo, Tsukki, didn’t know you had it in you!”

Nishinoya threw a towel over his shoulder, grinning. “So soft! So romantic!”

Tsukishima froze mid-glare, then sighed so deeply you could almost feel the soul leaving his body. “You’re all idiots.”

“Ohhh, look, he’s blushing!” Sugawara teased, voice full of amusement.

“I’m not blushing,” Tsukishima said, adjusting his glasses again—which of course made everyone laugh harder.

You tried not to giggle, but when he shot you a look—that mix of mock-annoyed and secretly fond—you couldn’t help it.

He leaned closer, muttering under his breath, “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Maybe,” you whispered back, “but you started it.”

His eyes narrowed—but that small, reluctant smile was back.

This time, when he pinched your other cheek, it was so gentle you almost didn’t feel it.

“Fine,” he murmured. “Now we’re even.”

“Stinkyshima’s being sweet again!” Hinata yelled.

Tsukishima groaned. “I’m transferring schools.”

But as you followed him out of the gym, still giggling, he reached back without looking and laced his fingers with yours—quiet, casual, and perfectly him.

✯Kuroo Tetsurō*⁠.⁠✧

The hallway between classes was noisy, a mix of laughter and sneakers squeaking against tile.

You were standing by your locker, trading textbooks, when a pair of voices drifted over from behind you.

“She’s cute, I guess,” one girl said, tone just a little too light.

“Yeah,” another replied, “if you like that soft kind of cute. Kuroo must have a type.”

You froze, pretending to keep flipping through your bag.

They didn’t stop.

“I mean, she’s sweet, but imagine trying to keep up with him. He’s the captain—he could date anyone.”

The laughter that followed was quiet but sharp enough to cut.

You took a slow breath and shut your locker, willing your face not to show anything. You didn’t want to give them the satisfaction.

“Hey sweetheart~”

Kuroo’s voice came from behind you—smooth, lazy, the kind that made people turn even before they realized it was him.

He had his hands in his pockets, hair still a little messy from the early-morning practice, eyes narrowing just slightly as he looked between you and the girls.

“Morning,” he said easily. “Everything okay here?”

The girls straightened up fast. “O-oh! Kuroo-san, we were just—”

He tilted his head, smile polite but not exactly friendly. “Just what?”

Silence.

They mumbled something about class starting and disappeared down the hall, their laughter suddenly nervous.

Kuroo waited until they were gone before turning to you. His expression softened immediately. “Hey.”

You sighed. “They weren’t worth it.”

He frowned. “Maybe not. But you are.”

You blinked up at him, caught off guard.

Before you could answer, he stepped closer and wrapped his arms around you—all warmth and broad shoulders and the faint scent of detergent and gym dust.

He hugged you tight, like he was trying to make up for every harsh word in the world.

You mumbled into his chest, “Tetsurō, people are staring.”

“Good,” he said without letting go. “Then they’ll know you’re mine.”

You laughed softly. “You’re impossible.”

He leaned back just enough to meet your eyes. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. Don’t let anyone make you forget that, okay?”

You nodded, smiling despite yourself.

He grinned—that classic Kuroo grin, the one that managed to be both mischievous and tender. “That’s better. Now, come on. I’ll walk you to class before someone else tries to talk nonsense.”

He laced his fingers through yours as you walked, squeezing lightly every few steps—his quiet way of saying I’ve got you.

When you reached your classroom door, he gave you one more quick hug—still too tight, still perfect.

“Later, at practice,” he whispered with a grin.

And as he disappeared down the hall, head held high, you realized the ache in your chest had been replaced by something else entirely—the steady warmth of being loved out loud.

✯Sugawara Kōushi*⁠.⁠✧

The classroom was quiet, except for the soft tick of the clock and the sound of papers being shuffled.

You were supposed to be studying for midterms, but your head was already drooping onto your notebook.

Sugawara looked up from his seat across from you. “Hey,” he said, voice low and amused, “you’ve been staring at that same page for ten minutes.”

You groaned, pressing your forehead to the desk. “Because math hates me.”

He laughed softly. “Math doesn’t hate you. It just wants attention.”

You peeked up at him. “You’re too cheerful for someone who finished everything already.”

He shrugged, smiling. “I’m just happy I get to keep you company.”

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks warmed anyway. “Smooth, Sugawara.”

“Who, me?” he said, mock-offended. “I’m honest.”

He reached into his bag and pulled out a small container. “Also, I brought snacks. You didn’t eat lunch, right?”

You blinked. “How do you always know?”

“I’m a setter,” he said simply. “I pay attention.”

Inside the container were onigiri and a few pieces of cut fruit. Nothing fancy, but it smelled good—like home.

He slid it toward you. “Eat while you study. You’ll focus better.”

You hesitated. “I shouldn’t. I’ve been trying to—”

“—skip meals?” he interrupted gently. “That’s not a good plan.”

You frowned a little. “I just… feel like I should eat less sometimes.”

Sugawara leaned back in his chair, eyes soft but serious. “You know, I think about this a lot,” he said. “How everyone’s built different. On the court, too. It’s not about being the same; it’s about being strong in your own way.”

You looked at him, unsure what to say.

He smiled again—that quiet, patient smile that always made people calm down without realizing it. “You’ve got this warmth that makes people relax around you. Don’t lose that trying to be something else.”

You laughed weakly. “You’re too good at this.”

He grinned, eyes glinting with humor. “Yeah, it’s my secret skill. Works better than any serve.”

You finally took a bite of the food, and his expression softened even more. “See? You look happier already.”

“Stop staring,” you said, embarrassed.

“Can’t,” he said simply. “You’re cute when you eat.”

You froze. “Kōushi!”

He chuckled, leaning forward on his elbows. “What? It’s true.”

You buried your face in your hands. “You’re impossible.”

He tilted his head. “Maybe. But I make you smile, so it's a good thing.”

The clock ticked on quietly, and sunlight drifted across the desks.

You finished eating, and Sugawara gently took the empty container back. “Thank you,” you said softly.

He gave that same warm smile—the one that always made you feel like you were exactly where you were supposed to be. “Anytime. I like taking care of my most beloved person after all.”

You tried to protest, but he was already back to his notes, pencil tapping rhythmically.

Somehow, the room felt lighter—and so did your chest.

✯Nishinoya Yū*⁠.⁠✧

Practice had ended, and the gym lights glowed soft and yellow.

Most of the team had already gone home, but Nishinoya was still there—sprinting after every stray ball like it was a championship match.

“Yū,” you called, sitting on the sidelines. “Practice is over.”

He turned, grinning. “Not for me! A true guardian never rests!”

You sighed, smiling despite yourself. “You’re going to wear yourself out.”

He jogged over, hair wild, cheeks flushed. “Nah! This is peak form!” Then he noticed the water bottle in your hands and blinked. “Wait—did you stay the whole time?”

You shrugged. “I like watching you play.”

That froze him mid-movement. “Wha—! Really?!”

He nearly tripped over a ball before catching himself, cheeks turning pink. “I mean—uh—cool! Yeah! I play great, right?”

You laughed. “Very great.”

He grinned so wide it almost hurt to look at. “You always know how to boost me up, huh?”

Before you could reply, your stomach let out a small, unmistakable growl.

He blinked, then looked horrified on your behalf. “Did—did you just—?!”

You covered your face. “Oh my god, Yuu, please don’t make it a big deal—”

He threw both arms in the air. “AHA! That’s my cue!”

You groaned. “What cue—”

But he was already digging through his bag, producing two rice balls wrapped in foil. “Saved these from lunch! I knew I’d find a use for ‘em.”

You blinked. “You… packed extra?”

He puffed out his chest proudly. “For emergencies! And feeding you totally counts as one.”

He tossed one your way. “Catch!”

You caught it, still laughing. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously thoughtful,” he said, flashing a grin before biting into his own.

You sat side by side on the gym floor, eating in comfortable quiet for a few minutes.

Then you mumbled, “You didn’t have to share, you know.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to.”

You hesitated. “You don’t think I eat too much?”

He froze mid-bite. “What? Why would I—?!”

Then his voice went full volume again. “Hey! You think that’s bad? I eat, like, six of these a day!”

You laughed. “That’s because you run more than anyone here.”

He waved a hand. “Nah, nah, nah. Listen.”

He looked at you, suddenly serious in that rare Nishinoya way. “You’ve got the best laugh in the world. If food makes you happy, then eat all you want. Anyone who says otherwise can fight me.”

Your heart twisted—because he meant it. He always did.

You smiled softly. “You’re too nice, Yū.”

He blinked, then scratched the back of his neck, blushing. “Nah. You just make it easy.”

You leaned your shoulder against his. “Thank you.”

He grinned, resting his head lightly against yours. “Anytime.”

The gym lights flickered once before shutting off.

He jumped up dramatically. “Let’s go, darling! I’ll walk you home—bodyguard duty!”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your smile. “You really don’t have an off switch, do you?”

He laughed, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “Not when it comes to you!”

And as you both stepped into the cool evening air, he started humming loudly—off-key, but happy—because that was just Nishinoya: a storm of energy who somehow always made the world feel lighter.

✯Akaashi Keiji*⁠.⁠✧

The gym was almost empty.

Bokuto had run off after practice, leaving his towel and half of his energy behind.

Akaashi sat on the bench, still in his practice shirt, unwrapping a small bento box.

You were sitting nearby, looking at your phone, stomach rumbling just a little.

He noticed. Of course he noticed—he noticed everything.

“You didn’t eat again,” he said simply.

You looked up, startled. “I’m fine, really.”

He opened his bento, lifting out a set of chopsticks. “You said that yesterday too.”

You tried to smile. “I just… wasn’t hungry.”

Akaashi’s eyebrows rose slightly. “You forget that I’ve known you long enough to recognize when you’re lying.”

Before you could answer, he shifted closer and held out a bite—a little roll of rice and egg, still warm.

You blinked. “Keiji, I can feed myself—”

“I know,” he said quietly. “But if I do it, you’ll actually eat.”

You hesitated, and then sighed in defeat. “You’re stubborn.”

“Only when it comes to you,” he said.

You leaned forward and took the bite, trying not to look at him.

He smiled a little—not teasing, not smug, just soft.

The kind of smile that said thank you for trusting me.

“Better?” he asked.

You nodded, chewing. “You cook well.”

“My mom helped,” he admitted. “But I arranged it.”

You laughed. “Of course you did. Precise as ever.”

He glanced down at the box. “You always make sure everyone else is okay. Let me make sure you are too.”

That stopped you for a moment.

You stared at him, and he met your gaze with that same steady calm he always had on court—focused, quiet, sure.

“You don’t have to take care of me all the time,” you murmured.

“I know,” he said again. “But I want to.”

He offered another bite, and when you took it, his hand brushed your cheek just briefly—a small, accidental touch that made something warm flutter in your chest.

When the box was empty, he packed it neatly away, wiped his hands, and looked at you with that thoughtful tilt of his head.

“You shouldn’t apologize for eating,” he said. “You should just enjoy it. You look happiest when you do.”

Your cheeks burned, and you laughed softly. “You really know how to make things sound sweet, huh?”

He smiled again, eyes half-lidded, gentle. “Only when I mean them.”

Outside, the sunset painted the hallway gold.

Akaashi stood, offering his hand to help you up, and when you took it, he didn’t let go right away.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“For what?” he asked.

“For seeing me.”

He squeezed your hand once—quiet, sure, like everything he did.

“That’s easy,” he said. “You’re worth looking at.”

✯Lev Haiba*⁠.⁠✧

Lev was pouting again.

He stood in the middle of the Nekoma gym, holding a volleyball like it had personally offended him. “I don’t get it!” he said, loudly enough that Yaku groaned from the sidelines. “It went straight up! Why didn’t it go forward?”

“Because,” Yaku snapped, “you hit it wrong, you giraffe!”

Lev blinked down at him, confused. “I did what I always do!”

“That’s the problem!”

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh as Yaku stalked off muttering about “hopeless rookies.”

Lev turned to you, green eyes wide and clueless. “He’s mad again.”

You couldn’t hold it anymore—you burst out laughing. “Lev, he’s always mad at you.”

“Yeah,” Lev said thoughtfully, “I think that means we’re friends now.”

You shook your head, still smiling. “Sure, if that’s what friendship means.”

Lev brightened immediately, like that was the best news he’d heard all day. Then, without warning, he leaned down and said, “Hey, you laughed! You usually hide your smile.”

You blinked. “I do not.”

“You do too,” he said with zero hesitation. “You always cover your mouth like—”

He mimicked you with both hands in front of his face, voice muffled. “Like this!”

You smacked his arm playfully. “I don’t!”

He grinned, rubbing the spot dramatically. “Ow! So mean! You hit me because I noticed you smiling?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, I hit you because you’re being dumb.”

“Then I’ll be dumb forever!” he declared proudly.

You groaned. “Lev—”

“What?” he said innocently. “If me being dumb makes you laugh, then that’s my job, right?”

You stopped, caught off guard. “That’s…actually kind of sweet.”

He blinked, surprised. “It is?”

“Yeah,” you said softly. “You’re not as dumb as you think.”

Lev straightened up, crossing his arms proudly. “See? I knew being me would work out someday.”

You giggled again, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

He tilted his head. “But you like spikes.”

You opened your mouth to protest—then realized he was watching you expectantly, eyes sparkling, grin wide.

There was no winning against that face.

“…Maybe a little,” you admitted.

Lev gasped dramatically. “Ha! I knew it!”

He pointed a finger at you like he’d just won a tournament. “You said it! You like watching me play!”

“Lev!” you spluttered, face heating. “That’s not what I—”

He was already spinning around in triumph. “Yaku-san! She said she likes my spikes!”

Yaku’s voice came from across the court. “I don’t care!”

Lev ignored him completely, still beaming at you like you’d handed him a gold medal.

You sighed, covering your face. “You’re unbelievable.”

He bent down again, still grinning. “But you’re smiling, so I’m winning.”

And honestly—you couldn’t even argue with that.

✯Kageyama Tobio*⁠.⁠✧

The gym smelled like chalk dust and oranges.

Practice had ended an hour ago, and most of the team had already gone home.

You were still there, sitting on the edge of the court with your bag open beside you, watching Kageyama serve ball after ball.

He didn’t talk much while he practiced. Just that sharp exhale and the thud of the volleyball hitting the floor.

But when he finally stopped and walked over, sweat still dripping from his jawline, he looked at you like he’d known you were there the whole time.

“Did you eat?” he asked, voice rough.

You laughed softly. “You always ask that.”

“Because you forget,” he said. Then, after a beat, “I brought something.”

From his bag, he pulled out a small bento box—rice, an egg, and a slice of orange on top. It wasn’t fancy, just clumsy and honest, like him.

You blinked. “You made this?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks turning bright red. “Kinda. My sister helped.”

Then, almost too fast to catch, “She said you should eat after waiting for me.”

Your heart squeezed. You took the box and sat on the floor again, eating in quiet bites while he drank from his bottle.

He kept glancing over—not staring, just those small, quick looks he thought you wouldn’t notice.

After a few minutes, you sighed. “You don’t have to feed me, you know. I’m already—”

You stopped yourself, words tumbling in your throat.

Kageyama looked up, frowning a little. “Already what?”

“Just…” You laughed weakly. “Bigger. People talk.”

He was silent for a moment. The sound of the ball rolling across the gym echoed before he finally spoke.

“So?” he said simply.

You blinked. “So…?”

He stood, walked over, and crouched in front of you. His eyes were serious in that way that made people nervous during games—but it wasn’t the same kind of focus now.

He looked at you like he was trying to memorize your face.

“I like you like this,” he said quietly. “You look...real.Warm.”

The words hit harder than you expected. You didn’t know what to say, so you just looked down at the half-empty lunch box, cheeks burning.

Kageyama shifted, awkwardly scratching his head. “I mean—” He stopped, tried again. “You make me feel calm. When I’m nervous before games. When I see you, it’s like—”

He frowned, searching for the right word. “Like everything evens out.”

You smiled, eyes stinging a little. “That’s…really sweet, Tobio.”

He blushed immediately, turning away. “Don’t make it weird.”

You giggled, setting the lunch box aside and standing up. “Okay, okay. But for the record, that was the nicest thing you’ve ever said.”

“Whatever,” he muttered, but the corners of his mouth twitched.

You reached out, brushing your fingers against his. He froze, then squeezed your hand back once—quick, clumsy, but sure.

Outside, the sky had turned orange and pink.

You packed up your things, walking side by side toward the doors. Kageyama carried your bag without being asked.

When you thanked him, he just said, “It’s heavy,” as if that explained everything.

It honestly did.

✯Kenma Kozume*⁠.⁠✧

The school was almost empty after practice.

The echo of volleyballs had faded, the last of the team had already left, and the sunset painted the gym windows a soft gold.

Kenma sat on the floor near the wall, phone in his hands, half-focused on his game. His headphones hung around his neck, music leaking faintly. Next to him sat you—legs crossed, munching on the snacks he’d brought without being asked.

You’d tried to tell him you weren’t hungry, but he’d just handed you the bag and said, “You’ll get cranky later.”

It was annoyingly accurate.

You watched him now—his brow furrowed, eyes flicking between screens, strands of blond hair catching the light.

Sometimes you wondered if he forgot you were even there.

But then, without looking up, he said, “You stopped eating.”

You blinked. “Huh?”

He pointed lazily at the half-open snack bag in your lap. “You do that when you’re overthinking. You don’t have to.”

You felt your face warm. He didn’t say things like that often—didn’t need to—but when he did, they went straight through you.

Still, you shrugged, trying to play it off. “Just thinking. I probably shouldn’t be eating so much anyway…”

Kenma paused his game. Actually paused it. That was serious.

He turned his head, eyes meeting yours—calm, unreadable, but just a little softer around the edges.

“Why?”

You fiddled with the wrapper. “I dunno. I’ve been feeling… kind of heavy lately.” You laughed weakly. “Not just, like, physically. Just… you know.”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached over, plucked a snack from the bag, and popped it into his mouth. “Then feel heavy,” he said simply.

You blinked again. “What?”

He swallowed, looking slightly embarrassed but continuing anyway. “You’re… warm. Comfortable. Like a blanket. If you weren’t here, things would feel… weird. Cold, maybe.”

His words came out halting, like he was choosing each one carefully, eyes looking at anything other than you.

You stared at him. “Kenma…”

He shifted, looking away, ears pink. “So, yeah. You’re fine. Don’t think about it too much.”

Your chest ached—in that good, fizzy way. You leaned against him, resting your head on his shoulder. He stiffened for a second, then relaxed, his game still paused in his hands.

“Thanks,” you murmured. “You always know what to say.”

“I really don’t,” he muttered. “You just… listen anyway.”

You smiled, closing your eyes. His shoulder was warm, his voice quiet, and the faint sound of rain starting outside made everything feel softer.

After a while, he spoke again, voice barely above a whisper. “You can finish those snacks, by the way. I brought ‘em for you.”

You laughed. “You’re too sweet sometimes.”

He snorted. “No, I’m not. You just think I am.”

But when you looked up, his lips were tilted in the smallest smile—the real kind, the rare kind he didn’t show many people.

And in that moment—sitting on a gym floor, sharing snacks, your head on his shoulder—the world felt perfectly quiet.

Kenma went back to his game eventually, but his free hand found yours without looking.

His thumb brushed your knuckles absentmindedly, steady and sure, as the sun disappeared behind the school.

For someone who didn’t talk much, he’d already said everything.

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