desc;; MDNI, post-time skip, bestfriends 2 lovers, multiple orgasms, finger fucking, soft dom suna, afab!reader, not prof read, rin had a crush on you ever since… so he decides to shoot his shot! , p in v , vaginal sex, squirting, bsf!sunarin → bf!sunarin
AN;; trying something new :) expect mistakes or spelling errors wc: 884
.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭
• bestfriend!suna has heard you complain about it for months. every time the topic of sex comes up during your late-night calls or when you’re chilling at his place after his ejp raijin practices, you sigh and say the same thing everytime. “no one’s ever been able to make me squirt. they all tap out or get tired before it even gets close.”
he’s usually half-laying on the couch scrolling through his phone with that signature lazy smirk, but this time he actually looks up, eyes narrowing with interest.
“bet i could,” he says casually, like he’s commenting on the weather.
you laugh in his face. “yeah right, rin. you’re my best friend, not some sex god.”
• bestfriend!suna just raises an eyebrow, setting his phone down. “i’m serious. give me one night. if i can’t make you squirt, i’ll get ya anything you want. but if i do…” his smirk turns sharper, “you admit i’m better than every guy you’ve ever let touch you.”
you thought he was joking.
he wasn’t.
.𖥔
two nights later you’re in his apartment after one of his games, still buzzing from watching him dominate on court. weell… one teasing conversation turns into a full blwown makeout session on his couch, and before you know it he has you pinned to his bed, long fingers already buried deep inside you.
• bestfriend!suna is annoyingly good. he takes his time, curling those stupidly long fingers against that spongy spot inside you while his thumb circles your clit with lazy precision. his hazel eyes stay locked on your face the entire time.
“told you,” he murmurs, voice low and smug as he speeds up. “you’re already soaking my hand,”
you’re stubborn, still trying to deny it even as your thighs start shaking. but rintaro just leans down, lips brushing your ear.
“let go. i know you can squirt for me, pretty girl.”
• bestfriend!suna doesn’t stop when you cum the first time. he keeps fucking you with his fingers through it, palm pressing firm against your clit, curling harder, faster, wet obscene sounds filling the room as he forces you higher.
“c’mon pretty girl… give it to me.”
your second orgasm hits harder. your back arches clean off the bed and you squirt all over his hand and wrist, soaking his forearm and the sheets beneath you. the sound you make is broken and shocked. suna’s eyes darken with satisfaction.
“there we go,” he breathes, looking way too proud of himself. “fucking knew you could.”
his fingers out slowly, savoring the way your walls flutter around them. he doesn’t rush. instead, he leans down and kisses you deep as he lines himself up, pressing the head of his cock against your soaked entrance.
• bestfriend!suna fucks you through three more orgasms that night, making you squirt two more times — once while you’re riding him, and once when he has your legs pushed back to your chest, pounding deep and relentless.
every time you soak his cock and stomach, suna lets out this low, warm chuckle, almost like he can’t believe how good you feel. his thumb keeps gently circling your swollen clit, eyes half-lidded as he watches you fall apart with pure adoration.
“look at you…” he murmurs between slow, deep thrusts, sweat slipping down his messy brown hair. “so beautiful like this. i’ve got you, baby. just let go for me.”
when he finally cums, he buries himself to the hilt, groaning softly against your neck as he fills you up, hips twitching with every pulse. his voice is rough but gentle when he whispers,
“all mine… only me from now on, kay?”
you’re a trembling, soaked mess underneath him, sheets completely ruined, thighs sticky with both of you. all you can do is weakly smack his shoulder, trying to catch your breath.
“told you i could,” he whispers,
.𖥔
• bestfriend!suna made good on his bet. after that night he didn’t even give you a chance to pretend it was a one-time thing. the next morning you woke up to him already scrolling through his phone next to you, arm slung over your waist like it belonged there.
“morning, squirt,” he said with that lazy smirk, not even looking up. you threw a pillow at his head.
• annoying boyfriend!suna is literally the worst (and best) thing that’s ever happened to you. he went from your stupid best friend who sent you dumb texts at 3am to the guy who now texts you “thinking about how pretty you look when you’re crying on my dick” while you’re in a work meeting.
• annoying boyfriend!suna is obsessed with making you squirt now that he knows he can. he turns it into a game. movie night? his hand is in your panties the whole time. lazy sudnay morning? he eats you out until the sheets are ruined and you’re pushing his head away because you can’t take anymore.
“rin— rinnie i can’t—”
“you can. don’t be dramatic. give me one more.”
• annoying boyfriend!suna is ridiculously clingy in the most infuriating way. he’ll lay on top of you after sex, still buried inside you, refusing to pull out while he scrolls through his phone and occasionally thrusts lazily just to hear you whine.
miya atsumu didn't believe in love at first sight until it happened to him.
he and osamu made it to school by the skin of their teeth, just before the physical education teacher closed the gate. the twins shared a look of relief before both grabbed each other by the collar.
"ya almost made us late, 'tsumu," osamu snarled, shaking atsumu's collar.
atsuma sneered, "hah?! don't pin this on me, 'samu! yer the one who wouldn't stop hoggin' breakfast!"
"that's 'cuz ya keep eatin' my share, dumbass!"
"yer share?! ma said that plate was f'me!"
before their argument could escalate, a startled shout intervened. atsumu snapped his head towards the gate, seeing you run while fixing your blazer. you were loudly begging the teacher to open the gates for you, but he just shook his head and pointed at his watch, indicating that you were far too late and have to be noted as such.
"damn, sucks to be her," osamu muttered, pushing atsumu away from him. "if ya didn't take yer fat ass outta kitchen, we'd probably be with her by now."
atsumu felt his temple throb the more he listen to his twin. he was about to retort, maybe even call osamu the fat ass twin by how much he eats and demands another serving, but his voice died in his throat as he watched you effortlessly jump over the gates by scaling the walls and gaining momentum via a kick. his eyes never left your flying figure as you landed a few feet away from him.
you squatted when your feet touched the ground, an exhilarated smile spreading on your lips as you congratulated yourself for a job well done. the teacher's mouth hung open, looking back and forth from the gate—which was around six feet tall or more. he groaned, dragging both hands down his face as he instructed you towards the faculty room. the smile on your face immediately vanished, replaced by a cute pout.
"woah," atsumu managed to breath out, heart racing as the scene of you jumping replayed in his mind again and again. he'd never seen anyone jump that high before nor anyone who managed to jump over the school gate that gracefully. his heart thumped against his chest, faint red spreading on his neck, cheeks, and ears as he watched you get scolded by the teacher.
when you noticed a pair of twins watching your scolding, you whined in embarrassment. as the teacher guided you towards tne entrance, you sent a small wave them.
atsumu choked on his spit when you waved at him. he pointed at himself, blinking rapidly, then waved back excitedly. he was unaware of the shaky smile on his lips nor the prominent blush coating his face.
"yer red as a tomato, 'tsumu," osamu cackled, silently taking photos of his twin as backmail material. "don't tell me ya fell in love with that girl!"
atsumu immediately jumped on osamu, shaking his shoulders. "the hell're ya sayin', 'samu?! yer seein' things 'cuz ya ate too much octo sausages earlier!"
"hah?! don't drag ma's octo sausages into this, 'tsumu! just admit ya finally have a crush on a girl!"
"shut yer trap!"
"both of you, go to yer classes already!" a passing teacher snapped at them.
the twins paused and made themselves presentable, nodding. they sneered each other as they finally entered their school building, changing into their indoor shoes.
as atsumu walked towards his classroom, he couldn't help but wish that you were his classmate... not that he'd admit it out loud, though.
ᝰ.ᐟ the two of you are private not secret, but when the media starts to speculate that the two of you are no longer together, neither of you are too happy. the best way to get everyone to stop with the breakup rumors? posting something a little bit nasty to the feed to satiate everyone's curiosity. (fem!reader)
featuring tobio kageyama, atsumu miya, tetsurou kuroo, wakatoshi ushijima, tooru oikawa, rintarou suna
content contains breeding kink (atsumu, wakatoshi), pregnant reader (wakatoshi), famous!reader (changes depending on scenario), creampie (tetsurou), hatefucking (not really, you + kuroo just like to antagonize each other but the attraction is there), scratches on his back (tobio), hickeys (tooru), wet n messy (rintarou), possessive!character x possessive!reader (the two of you are obsessed with each other ok), social media references lol
author's notes i'm definitely doing a blue lock version, i'm just seeing if this is a popular premise lol <3 based off this original concept !! these are just silly little drabbles for me to warm up to the idea of writing again haha
౨ৎ TOBIO KAGEYAMA
your fans are speculating: that you and kageyama have broken up. fans are recording footage from you on your latest tour and claim that you're "clearly disassociating" and "somewhere else mentally" when it comes to singing your iconic love songs. you and kageyama have always kept your relationship private because he's not a very open person to begin with, and you don't want to give the media more material to misconstrue. you know that kageyama hates when some random person will annotate your verses on genius lyrics and try to make the claim that your innocent metaphor is you wanting to jump ship and leave kageyama. and you hate how it's your own fans who are making wild accusations of you no longer being with the man all your love songs are about.
you posted: kageyama, with his back turned to the camera so all that fills your camera is the surprisingly broad expanse of his muscular back and shoulders. he's not even flexing, and it's obvious that he's a world-class athlete. he's facing the closet, trying to find a shirt to put on, and it would be a semi-innocent photo, the pinterest-perfect photo inspo for every private not secret relationship out there, except for the fact that there are clearly faint, red lines — scratches — running down his back. you caption the photo with a "monday morning 🤍" (your insane fans spam the comment section to exclaim how they knew you two were still a thing... and to speculate that this photo is somehow an easter egg for an upcoming song/album. well, they're right: you two will always be a thing, and tobio dicked you down so good last night that you could write him a whole album.)
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩
"fuck," the word slips through his gritted teeth, and you can tell that your tobio is still upset about how your fans seem divided. half of them claim no one could ever make them hate tobio (you find those fans to be absolutely adorable), and the other half...
well, the other half are making slideshow posts to audios that go "some boys take a beautiful girl and hide her away from the rest of the world" and the ones that seem to go viral are always the ones that feature you and tobio.
"not hidin' you away." he mutters, never slowing down his thrusts. he admires the expression on your face as he fucks into you, his ego pleased with how receptive you are to his every movement. he has you speared on his cock, your tight little cunt full of him, your eyes getting so adorably teared-up because he's just a little bit too much for you to handle. tobio isn't good with words; he thinks you're the most beautiful girl to exist, but he can't verbalize it. so he just takes in your sweet, fucked-out face, the reaction only he's capable of drawing from you, and it all gets so overwhelming for him.
he has to bury his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your body wash as he continues to bully his cock into your soaked pussy. "why's it bad if i want to keep you all to myself?" he's practically whining, and you think this would be so cute if only you weren't currently chasing after your release. or rather, tobio's forcing you to cum, whether you want to or not. it's not like you can stop him; tobio devotes himself to always ensuring that you finish before him. he likes the satisfaction of knowing only he can take care of you, and he especially likes the way his cock looks with you creaming all over it.
when he gets like this, all you can do is cling to him, your arms wrapped around his muscular build. when he gets rough with his thrusts, when his body gets just the slightest bit sweaty from the exertion (evidence of just how much work he puts into fucking you), you have to dig your manicured nails (the set he paid for) into the skin of his toned back. otherwise, you'd lose your grip, and your hands would slip off.
tobio relishes the slight stinging pain of your nails scratching down his skin. but the scratches aren't enough. he needs to make you cum. when you get so caught up in your climax, you start clawing at him as you lose control. he loves the scratches you leave on him; it's proof that he's yours just as much as you are his.
౨ৎ ATSUMU MIYA
haters are saying: that you're just using atsumu for content. you're a gold digger. you're not genuine. you're not "wifey material." spectators are claiming that atsumu is playing worse than before because he's too "pussywhipped" for you. well, he likes to cheekily admit to you that he is addicted to your pussy, but they're wrong about everything else. obviously. however, the haters are feeling very vindicated whenever they see atsumu hasn't been posting you as much. (you're traveling for a new vlog series on your page, but no one knows.)
he posted: a mirror selfie. which isn't breaking news. atsumu miya always breaks the internet when he posts a mirror selfie because the only thing worse than a hot guy is a hot guy who knows he's hot. no one is a stranger to the sight of a post-workout, sweaty, shirtless atsumu, who flaunts his tight abs and muscular thighs with a steamy mirror selfie. but this photo? this one is going triple platinum. it's going down in history. this selfie is taken in dim lighting; the curtains in the background are drawn shut, he's got one hand gripping his phone (making the phone look tiny in his big hand), and he's got one arm wrapped around you. it's not an innocent hug, though. he's cupping your ass, and the phone in front of his face does nothing to shield his satisfied smirk. you're clad in nothing but lacy lingerie from a designer who loves to sponsor you, and you're clinging to his side, almost like you can't even stand without his support. it's clear that the two of you definitely were... appreciating the work your favorite designer put in when they created that lacy set.
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩
"what do you think?" you're smiling at him, knowing damn well what he's thinking.
atsumu looks up at you, reflexively licking his lips as he takes in the sight of you wearing a new set of lingerie that you just got delivered. it leaves little room for imagination, and the material looks so delicate, atsumu is already thinking about how he'll have to apologize to the designer for ripping it off of you.
"i think I'm the luckiest man alive right now." atsumu is shameless in the way he's admiring you, the way the setting sun still peeks through the curtains, enveloping your body in a delicious golden glow as you inch closer and closer to him.
in a matter of seconds, he's pulling you on top of him, placing wet, sloppy kisses over any centimeter of your skin he can reach. when you make a move to slip off the panties, he protests.
"leave 'em on f'me, baby. please?"
he fucks you with you still wearing the lingerie set. your breasts are spilling out of the bra, and all he did was move your panties to the side so he could stretch you out with his cock.
"fuckin' idiots, tellin' me you're not good enough to marry. i'll show 'em what a good girl you are, right? gonna put a ring on your finger, and make you my wife." he's fucking his cock into you, making sure that your cute cunt knows who it belongs to. "gonna fuck a baby into you, sweetheart. no one's gonna say shit about our family, huh? 'cause i won't let 'em."
your cunt clenches up so nicely with every comment he makes that atsumu knows he has to make all those pussydrunk promises come true.
౨ৎ TETSUROU KUROO
the tabloids are posting: paparazzi photos of you — the socialite daughter of the man who owns the msby black jackals, and jva's promotion division's golden boy, tetsurou kuroo. it's late at night, and the two of you are clearly leaving a party celebrating the success of another eventful volleyball season. you're wearing the iconic ysl heels with a black mini-dress that honestly should be called a micro-dress. your hair is a mess, you're walking like your knees are struggling not to wobble, and walking three steps behind you despite his longer stride is kuroo; his tie is crooked, his cheeks are flushed, and he has a grin that says something like i just fucked one of the richest bratty heiresses in japan, and i left her wanting more. the amount of blind items that are allegedly alluding to you and kuroo are being spread all over tiktok. one reads, "this sports club heiress was seen exiting a party with this semi-known marketing mastermind who works in the sports industry. apparently, they couldn't keep their hands off each other, and no one can recall seeing them together during the party; everyone only caught glimpses of them running away from the festivities together."
you posted: a photo slideshow on instagram of your absolutely iconic outfit from the party, only these photos were clearly taken before the party. your hair is done, your makeup is perfect, and your caption states don't believe everything you read. the last slide is a screenshot of an online headline speculating about your "new man" with a photo of a grinning kuroo from that night. the reason why this makes everyone go insane is because you're no stranger to a scandal — this is, however, the first time you've ever addressed a headline.
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩
"hurry up," you hiss, your eyes darting from left to right as you make sure no one is nowhere near the secluded corridor kuroo somehow managed to find.
"y'know, i thought girls were supposed to like guys who don't blow their loads prematurely." even when he's bullying his cock into your slicked up cunt, savoring the way your sensitive walls are clenching around his dick, tetsurou has a very annoying habit of still sounding entirely in control. for someone who can't keep his hands to himself when it comes to you, he's irritatingly great at playing nonchalant.
but he's just a man, after all. he might tower over you, his large body shielding you from any prying eyes, and he might know your body so well that he can bring you to completion twice (once with his fingers curling against that special spot of yours, and another one so rudely wrung out from you when he slid his cock in your orgasm-recovering, overly sensitive pussy) in just the fifteen minutes he's been toying with you tonight, but you know that he must be feeling something. you saw him shift his pants the moment his eyes met yours from across the room, when his eyes travelled down your body and followed the way your dress emphasized the curvatures of your body.
"if you don't finish right now, i'm not going to let you cum inside." you threaten him, trying to steady your voice as you bite back a moan. it'd be a major issue if the two of you got caught, with the volleyball association's golden boy being buried balls-deep inside a sports team owner's bratty daughter.
with every sharp snap of his hips, kuroo is only forcing more slick to come gushing out of your pussy. he can't even take the time to admire the white ring you left around his cock; he's too focused on chasing after his release because he didn't get to where he's at by not being opportunistic.
"if i cum inside, you have to keep it in your panties the whole night. you wouldn't want that, would you?" he sounds a little breathless now, his pace quickening as his thrusts get sloppier. he's smiling at you, that damn annoying smile that makes you want to roll your eyes or insult him. but your body betrays you. his grin only widens when your pussy tightens up at the idea of having his cum soaking in your panties while you interact with people at this party. a dirty little secret shared only between you two.
he lets out a breathy chuckle at your body's betrayal. "okay, princess. since you want it so badly, i guess i better give it to you."
you could practically cum again the minute you feel the warmth of him finishing inside of you. you're a spoiled brat who gets what she wants, and while you refuse to admit it, you want him. all of him.
and he's going to give it to you.
౨ৎ WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA
the media is going crazy over: the fact that ushijima is the type of person who doesn't clarify anything because he just assumes that everyone can read his mind. he's blunt, sure, but he's not really the type who does much explaining. after the first game of the season, an interviewer asks him if he enjoyed spending the off-season with you, his girlfriend and one of the most beloved, fan-favorite WAGs of all time. ushijima stares straight into the camera as he states in his usual deep, flat rumble of a voice, "the off-season was successful, but she isn't my girlfriend anymore. thank you." and then he just walks off, like he didn't just drop the most insane piece of information ever?
he posted: a photo of an ultrasound that was clearly taken out of his wallet since it's thrown on the table in the background. he's holding it in his left hand, and the overhead lighting is reflected from the silver wedding band he's wearing. now that he's off the court, he's able to wear it. in typical ushijima fashion, there is no caption, but a picture is worth a thousand words. you're not his girlfriend. you're his wife, and soon to be mother of his child.
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩
"mmph — 'toshi!" you squeal out, your calves burning from the stretch as your beloved wakatoshi has your legs bent and spread for him. he's just so big that you'd never be able to handle all of him, and yet, here you are, bent into a mating press every night since the two of you have gotten married. you try to beg him to slow down, but words escape you as he buries himself into your pussy, letting out a deep, guttural groan as the warmth of your cunt coats his cock. there's no better feeling than this.
even if you could request for him to slow down, it wouldn't have mattered or made much of a difference. your husband has a one-track mind. when wakatoshi is set on a goal, it's hard to break his focus until he sees it to the end. and right now, wakatoshi's goal is to fuck a baby into you, to see you round with life because of the seeds he planted.
he's hunched over you, abs tightening and flexing with every sharp inhale of breath he takes. he's gonna fuck himself empty, going to keep filling your cunt with his seed 'til he's shooting blanks. his eyes glance at the ring he put on your finger before returning to admire your blissful expression and the way your body seems to have gone boneless from all the fucking he's had you endure.
"just a little bit longer." he manages to say, before forcing his cock in even deeper. "just have to make sure it takes."
౨ৎ TOORU OIKAWA
everyone is claiming: long distance relationships never last. when oikawa makes the shocking announcement that he is no longer a japanese citizen, everyone immediately wondered what that meant for the future of your relationship. does that mean it's over? officially? if oikawa is leaving behind his hometown, then by default, is he leaving you behind too?
he posted: a photo slideshow, only most of the images were clearly taken by you. the first one is of him driving; the two of you are in his convertible, and he's wearing a white button down with most of the buttons undone. on the stark white of the shirt are kiss marks; the imprint of your lips lined with cherry-red lipstick are all over the material of his shirt and on his freshly-tanned skin. the other photos are of what you two ate for dinner, the sunset from the beach, and a selfie of you two looking more in love than ever. fans are quick to point out the massive hickey on your neck, and tooru tags you in a reply to the top comment that points it out, and he's saying "you missed a spot babe." you reply back, "i ran out of concealer because you gave me too many to cover"
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩
"i missed you," your boyfriend mumbles into your soft skin. tooru can get so clingy when he goes long periods without seeing you, and you indulge him because he's tooru. he's got his face buried in the space between your shoulder and neck, and his breath is warm against your skin as he speaks.
"everyone is saying i'm abandoning you, but that's not true." he whines.
"i know, baby. i don't care." you laugh softly, absentmindedly playing with the soft strands of his hair. he settles into you, and it's almost sweet, until he starts nipping at your skin.
"tooru, what are you doing?" you can't find it in yourself to chastise him too harshly, but you do have to restrain yourself from pulling back.
"jus' want to show everyone that you're still my girl." he peers up at you, licking his lips. "you'll let me do that, won't you?"
tooru bites and sucks at your skin, sharp canines grazing your soft flesh. he sucks at your most sensitive areas while he works his fingers in and out of your gushing cunt. when he pulls his fingers out and holds them up, so the sunlight can shine and really highlight how much of your juices is coating his digits, he smiles. his girl gets this wet just from him marking you up?
as he sucks on his fingers, relishing in the way you taste, he can't help but be happy to know that no matter how far away the two of you are from each other (for now), you're still his girl.
౨ৎ RINTAROU SUNA
your fans are telling you: suna doesn't care about you. suna doesn't put forth any effort into your relationship. suna literally streams on twitch during the off-season yet he can't seem to ever post you?? suna doesn't deserve you. suna—
suna is a lot of things, but nothing like the deadbeat, ashamed boyfriend allegations. in fact, all your well-meaning fans are so far off on how he treats you that you and him get a good laugh from the outrageous conclusions they've jumped to.
you posted: a photo of rintarou with his head on your lap, and you've got your fingers playing with his hair. it's a sweet photo, really. except for the fact that you decided to pair it with an audio that's a snippet of a song that goes "he's so pretty when he goes down on me" and a caption that reads this song is so relatable 🤍
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩
anyone who thinks rintarou is a selfish lover, a lazy lover, someone who merely tolerates you or is ashamed to be with you... they clearly don't know either of you very well.
because even when he's exhausted from practice, rintarou comes home craving you. craving your sweetness, your warmth, your love — and your pussy. he's obsessed. rintarou suna loves to eat you out, and he does it with such passion, such enthusiasm, that it's hard to refuse him, even if he's been going at it for the past hour.
your juices are leaving a stain on the bedsheets, and your slick is coating your inner thighs. it doesn't help that rintarou is messy with his technique. he needs your legs spread for him, granting him easy access for him to just dig in. he's still in his practice jersey, and when he feels your grip loosening from the strands of hair you're tugging at, he'll slow down his pace, calming down to just tiny kitten licks while he peers up at you.
your head is thrown back in pleasure, and your hips have a mind of their own as they still jut forward, as if trying to bring your cunt impossibly closer to him. no need for that, really, seeing as how he craves to bury himself in your warmth, to suck on your cute little clit and have you humming all over his tongue.
"rinnie." you whine out, still subconsciously bucking up your hips. he smiles before resuming his original ministrations, gluttonous and greedy with how sloppy and hungry he is with you. if you're still capable of talking, then you're not too fucked out to not allow him to get his fill.
WHY IS OUR MANAGER IN THE CLOSET WITH OUR TRAINER?
iwaizumi hajime x reader; where you ask your coworker “what are we?” mid-makeout session
excitement rushes through your body as you hear the familiar click! of the lock behind you, while strong arms feel you up and pull you close.
“i missed you, you know that, right?” iwaizumi tells you, as he starts trailing down your neck. “why have you been avoiding me all day?”
“avoiding you?” you ask with a smile, leaning your head a bit to the side to give him more room to kiss the particular spot you like. “we’re at work, hajime.” your job requires notetaking, bringing water bottles, coordinating players’ schedules, etc… while his requires training, physical therapy appointments, and individualized meetings with players. other than both jobs relating to the team, there wasn’t that much intersect that justified meeting in the storage closet this often.
“so?” he hums, breath catching in your throat while he trails his fingers beneath your work blouse. “doesn’t stop this from happening.”
something about that comment snaps you out of the pleasure you’re feeling, facing consiousness of where you are and what was going on instead. iwaizumi pauses, feeling you suddenly tense beneath him. “did i do something wrong?” he asks.
“hajime… what are we? i mean what are we even doing? we’ve been acting like high schoolers that don’t want to get caught.” you ask, letting his hand cup your face as his eyes meet yours.
the trainer stares at you for a moment, before a quick inhale. “we can be whatever you want us to be, yn.” he gives you a gentle kiss on the head. “we can be just coworkers, friends, or even more than friends, if you’d like.” despite the little light in the storage closet, you could feel his blush radiating off of hiim.
“how about we talk about it over dinner?” you question, bringing your arms to wrap around his neck.
“are you free tonight?” iwaizumi asks with a hint of hope, thumb stroking your face as he anticipates your response.
“hmmm, i’ll think about it,” you tease. laughing as he nipped at your neck. “i think -“
“BOKUTO, GET THE KEYS! THE DOOR IS LOCKED.” atsumu yells from outside.
you both freeze, with iwaizumi whipping his hand around to check the time on his watch. 7:00pm. the team had officially ended their practice and had to put away their things. “oh my god,” you whisper, mortified at the thought of being caught like this.
“don’t worry, i got this,” he assures, before quickly catching your lips with his own.
————
“AND THEN, i saw yn sneak out of the closet while iwaizumi was distracting me with something. she didn’t even look me in the eyes.” atsumu tells the group. “THE DOOR WAS LOCKED BEFOREHAND?”
you cover your head with your hands in embarrassment, while iwaizumi puts an arm around you. turns out, you both forgot about the scheduled drinks bokuto and atsumu insisted on having at the end of each month. you could only yelp in surprise as iwaizumi playfully pinches your side, before whispering in your ear, “good thing we didn’t get too carried away this time.”
im sorry guys im rusty. please forgive me. and PLEASE overlook my grammatical errors in my past works. reposts appreciated ;P
suna "we're just friends" rintaro who's actually in a secret relationship with you, but feels the need to keep it a secret until it gets more serious because he's scared. except the miya twins have caught on, and they have a running bet going for who's going to spill first. atsumu thinks suna would rather keel over than admit to them he's dating someone, but osamu is smugly convinced that his friend's resolve is weaker than yours. so they decide to put it to the test.
it starts off . . . weird. osamu is putting moves on you, and you have no idea what to make of it. he's asking to walk you home and tells you that you should come to watch them practice. he even shoves atsumu out of their usual seat in the cafeteria to invite you to sit next to him. he seems really interested in you, and you don't want to be mean, but you also can't lead him on.
you're too focused on osamu's strange behavior to notice that he only acts this way when suna is around. so you don't see the way your boyfriend clenches and unclenches his fists when he overhears osamu wanting to walk you home after school. you don't hear the huff he lets out or how he slams his locker door a little harder when osamu invites you to watch them play with a well practiced smile. and you certainly don't realize the sheet white paleness that grows on his face when osamu shoves atsumu off the bench to make space for you.
suna doesn't blame you. his friends are idiots and getting on his last nerve. but everything comes to a screeching halt when osamu puts his arm around your shoulder, and suna absolutely loses it.
"we're dating!" it's the closest he gets to yelling without actually, but it's loud.
"damn it!" atsumu shouts, but suna doesn't hear. he practically has tunnel vision, zeroed in on where osamu connects to you.
"we're dating," he repeats through gritted teeth. "so get your grimy slimy spiker little hands—" he stalks over to osamu with surprising speed to knock his hand off of you, "off of my—"
"rintaro," you scold softly, and the twins try not to react when their usually unbothered and finicky middle blocker . . . listens?
"he—you're my—i'm—" he erupts in an aggravated groan and quickly decides to pull you to his side, away from osamu.
suna starts mumbling things under his breath they can't hear. his words are clearly reserved only for you, but the twins watch quietly anyway as you smooth away the worry lines growing on his face from his furrowed eyebrows and press a soft kiss to his cheek that has leaves them dusted in the slightest pink. he's whipped, and suddenly the only thing the miyas could think of was—how the hell did they not notice sooner?
yes i'm a soft lovesick sunarin truther. that man is a simp and i take no arguments
the fluorescent lights of the mall fitting room did absolutely nothing to dampen the beauty of iwaizumi hajime, who at that moment, looked like the greek god of abercrombie.
after being invited to oikawa’s spontaneous garden party, the two of you came to the marvelous conclusion that hajime had nothing at all that was appropriate to wear. nothing. at. all.
you thought a trip to the mall would be nice. after all, as his best friend (you’d never admit your crush….ever), it was your job to help him out.
you find yourself regretting it and thanking the gods in equal measure.
the olive green shirt he wore hugged his arms, the cut of it emphasizing his broad shoulders and even more sculpted biceps. the color made his eyes, something between green or brown or hazel look infinitely more alluring.
you wondered how you’d ever be able to get this out of your brain.
“it’s nice shirt!” you blurted out, willing your face not to betray the thoughts you had on the inside.
the truth was that he was marvelous. marvelous and beautiful. you could burn the image of him into your eyelids.
he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling the smallest bit before flexing his arm in the mirror, the muscles all lining up just to kill you. “yeah?”
“yeah,” you sighed, “looks good. you should buy it.”
he nodded, paying no mind to the price tag as he walked back into the fitting room door. he stilled for a moment before closing the door, meeting your eyes with a smirk that spelled trouble.
“oh i will,” he grinned, “if your reaction was that crazy for this shirt, you couldn’t handle me shirtless.”
you were left dumbfounded as he shut the door, his laughs increasing in volume while you stood slack jawed over your menace of a crush.
taglist: @chimielie (sorry if he’s ooc lia ily), @mayiedayie @kagstobioisthelightofmylife (not kags but i’ll do it someday) @brooksviolin @karnevil @amorinn @huhyeni
