ʚ♡ɞฺ main m.list ྀིᨯ — cw. fluff, established relationship, post timeskip duh kids ages range in 1-6 at max, characters included: iwaizumi, oikawa, kuroo, atsumu, osamu, sakusa, kageyama, hinata, ushijima, bokuto
iwaizumi subconsciously rubs his thumb on your son's back when he taps his chest, asking for his lion plushie that your husband had forgotten, stuck in the bag you had brought whenever it was a day you'd go out with your son.
"and i would like to thank my-" - "papa!" the smaller version of himself basically pulling at his tie while he tries to answer properly. he'd stay perfectly in control though, just to set the scene.
he just tickles the little guy until he stops fussing, at least until he finishes the question. "god, the little man is incredibly eager today, aren't you?" the athlete walks over to your on the sides, escorted by a few bodyguards as you take the hazelnut-headed baby from his arms.
oikawa happily introduces both him and his little girl before answering a few questions. whether those questions are about his gameplay or hi personal life, he answers whatever he can. what people find most adorable is how identical the grin on his daughter face was to his own.
"ah, my spouse? they're actually sitting over there- no i'm not going to point so no one crowds them." the same enthusiasm you fell in love with made you sigh while a few of his teammates stand nearby to bodyguard you in a way.
"dada! wanna say hi to mama/papa!" - "go wave, sweetie, they're right there!"
kuroo has his carbon copy sat on his lap, the little boy having hidden his face for a while in his father's vest, you questioned if it was really a good time to show the world he had a child- well, that's before you knew that crow jr. was just fast asleep.
"ah you know kids, they sleep easy, a luxury i wish i could still have." - "da... i wan' mama/papa..." tugging at the hem of his clothes, you could feel your heart warm when the microphone picked up your son's words.
"we can go to 'em later, okay?" - "huuungry..."
atsumu was getting interviewed right after a game, getting caught offguard, he didn't have time to put his girls down. the older girl being two years more than the smaller girl, one stood and one sat respectively. at least that's the stance he took after tossing them both into the air at least thrice.
"ha? oh! ohohohoh- yeah, these are my kids! just the prettiest in the whole world, aren't they?" placing a kiss on both of their heads, "clearly they take after their mother/father, yeah?"
you could only feel your face heat up hours later when you're rewatching the interview for yourself. "what're ya blushin' 'bout?? was tellin' them the truth!"
osamu gladly introduced the twins you had blessed him with, the two boys that were finally revealed at onigiri miya; helping their father out with work and serving customers with the smile osamu only offered to the love of his life, you.
"mmhhmm, yeah, my boys are amazin' at everythin', aren't they? learned from the best, and look like the best. me and their mother/father respectively."
"'samu, you were so sweet up there but you know damn well they learned how to help you because i pushed them to?" - "yeah yeah. don't take all the credit, beautiful."
sakusa keeps his distance by himself, and it only worsens when his little girl is in the vicinity of cameras, and lights when he finally gets out the locker room post-game. despite the eyerolls and such, he really isn't gonna be a man above flexing about how pretty his little girl is.
"of course she is my daughter, beautiful and much more bearable than you all." is all he really gets out before leaving the limelight to go back to where the two of you were.
"wow, really wouldn't give them a chance?" you smoothly slid a smoothie into his freehand for him and the young lady to share; said little lady already reaching out for the shaved flavored ice. "god, you really want people to know about our life or what?" - "was just joking, 'omi!"
kageyama is... well both him and his barely one year old toddler didn't like the amount of questions being asked, and yearned only for one thing left; to go back to the arms of mama/papa...
"i- yes, she is my daught- no she hasn't been enrol... i..." the little girl looks up at him and blinks anticipatedly, as if telepathically communicatin with her father, she starts to fake a loud cry that successfully gets him out of the spotlight.
"aw is my baby- oh, she's already okay? i thought she was crying?" - "oh you know things babe, i'm just a great dad." he places a kiss onto the little girl's head that makes her babble happily.
hinata, one moment was tossing her up into the air, next thing five journalists and three cameramen are already in his face, asking whose child is it... well, they had the same orange hair... who else's kid would this be?
"uh, yeah, she's my kid. she, and my beautiful partner are my inspiration during matches yes." - "dada! i want hooome!!"
he reluctantly answered only the questions that concerned the games for the next five minutes before coming back to you. "jeez, so many interviewers, huh?" - "okay, mr. popular, our daughter seems hungry."
ushijima is on stage, mic and everything as per usual, but this time the cameras weren't really focused too much on him, rather on the little girl that grasped his jacket's collar with amazement. whispering little words that the mic would pick up, people couldn't help but 'aww' at her!
"yes, the match was very beneficial for the growth of our team." - "ba... pa... papa..." would echo silently right behind the athelete's firm words, he probably couldn't see it, but you could easily spot how easily the crowd faltered at the hands of your daughter.
holding your son's hand, you walk over to your husband as he comes back, "seems like someone's talkative tonight." - "i believe so, our daughter likes the press."
bokuto was pulled onto a stage to talk about his most recent match and how his fake spike came up as an option in his mind. be surprised but i believe he'd be the kind to answer while catering to his daughter. sitting on his lap while he had a large hand around her small body.
"yes! that spike- god it just, you should know... sweetheart, don't eat that; the adrenaline an athlete experiences during a match makes your brain work overtime! and- baby, you know your mother/father is gonna kill me for this-"
long story short he's kinda got it under his control until he realizes 'yooo im a good dad while answering questions professionally'.
You were chilling in the living room when an idea crossed your mind. You grin, already holding back a laugh as you hear your fiancé walking down the stairs.
“Babe, can you grab me a drink?” You ask not looking up from your phone.
“I shall cherish my wife” He grins to himself. (what a dork)
“Fiancé,” You correct him, giving him a ‘haha, I know that makes you mad’ look. He catches your gaze before turning around to open the fridge.
“Whatever makes my wife happy” You can see his hand and forearm muscles clenching from the grip on the fridge handle.
He walks up to you, handing you the drink you asked for.
“Good boy,” You say, biting back a laugh the moment you see his face.
He looks at you then quickly around the room for any camera or someone who could possibly see what he is about to do-
He giggles, GIGGLES. Before he quickly masks it with a forced cough. He clears his throat twice and fixes his hair.
“Mind saying that again?” Your jaw hits the floor.
“Excuse you?”
“I didn't quite.. hear you” he repeats, fixing his collar and standing up straighter. You try.. Really try not to laugh… or cry. Because this man looks adorable. He has a cheeky smile, his dimples showing up.. his hands in front of him. You can almost see him rocking on his feet from excitement.
“Ah.. wait, if I get you another thing, you will repeat it?” he doesn't wait for your response; he's already moving. He walks in and out of the kitchen, a snack his hand. He gently, like it's a secret, places it beside you.
Your fiancé takes a step back, admiring his “work”. He raises his eyebrows, smiling and waiting for you to say it.
You look at the snack.. back at him. This man.. You think to yourself. He's so stupid..
He clears his throat, gesturing with his hand to continue, still smiling.
“Oh right, forgive me. Thank you” He quickly shakes his head.
“The other thing” You squint your eyes at him.
“Thank you, my beloved husband..?” He shakes his head again.
“Not that.. I mean, I like it, but the other thing you said earlier.” You sigh in defeat, opening the bag of chips.
“You're serious? You want me to really, really call you that? Isn't it embarrassing?” He groans before walking towards you on the couch and sits down in front of you. His chin on top of your knee, arms wrapped around your legs.
“Please?” He pouts. POUTS. THIS GROWN ASS MAN-
“Ugh.. fine.” You reach your hand and pet his hair gently. “Good boy” You cringe but laugh shortly after when he licks your knee.
“EW! STOP!” The sound of your laughter and squirming away from him fills the room.
“Say it again” He laughs too, crawling on top and pushing you down on the couch, trappong you under his body weight.
“No” You try to sound serious, but fail miserably. “DON'T!” You squirm again, as he starts tickling you.
“PLEASEEE, SAY IT AGAIN” he laughs, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck, hiding his OBVIOUS blush on his face.
“Maybe on our wedding night”
a/n: He couldn't wait till then.. sorry not sorry.
a/n. omg i’ve been gone for soooo long im sorry :( i’ve been busy with work and school, but had to make a comeback for the yearly NNN post :P
☆ — KUROO : a week!
listen… i KNOW this man is a yearner. he cannot resist you, you’re way too perfect in his eyes. because of this, i think he’d last a week. he really tried to hold on because he had money riding on this bet, but he was doomed from the start. way too far in over his head. he just can’t stop his hands from wandering every time you kiss him, even if you’re just trying to be sweet. he can’t help the way his tongue seeks out yours, or the way his cock is instantly hard when your hands run through his messy hair. he blames you when he’s balls deep, letting out grunts and moans of, "this is your fault," and, "you’re such a tease". alas, he owes his coworker twenty bucks the next day.
"fuck— you’re just too perfect, i can’t help it."
☆ — OIKAWA : winner!
we all know he’s competitive, so i think off sheer will and determination that he’d pull it off. it was torture, and after a few weeks his balls actually start to hurt, but he had to prove a point! you’re always calling him a horn dog and pouting about how he just wants to fuck you and nothing else. he’s a busy man, always wrapped up in volleyball, so sometimes all he has time for is a quickie. he loves you to death, though, so when you bring up the challenge, he accepts. he wants to prove that he’s happy in your relationship with or without sex! so the month drags on— for both of you. for the first two weeks, he would help you get off, but then it became too tempting, so he had to stop. he’s literally counting down the minutes on the final day, but when it was finally midnight, December 1st, he ruined you all morning. it almost felt too good to be inside you again, and he makes a silent promise to never participate in No Nut November again.
"mmh… 'm gonna cum again— just a little bit more!"
☆ — ATSUMU : a day!
he had a bet with Osamu, but then realized that he actually didn’t give a fuck and that he loves being inside you way more than he loves bragging to his brother. he had this epiphany when you bent over to pick something up off the floor. such a simple thing, but Atsumu is weak for your ass. you tried to protest at first, asking if he was sure and to really think about it, but he was already tugging his cock out of his pants and bending you over the nearest surface.
"forget about Samu. you should only be thinking about me."
☆ — OSAMU : two days!
slightly better than his twin, which earned him bragging rights. he figured Atsumu wouldn’t last long anyway, so he wasn’t really trying to resist you. it sort of just played out that way, he didn’t get a free moment from the restaurant until two days into the challenge. he actually completely spaced about the bet when he got home to see you sitting all cutely on the bed. he only recalled the conversation when you mumbled something about it as he was tugging your underwear down, but he was too far in to stop now! he‘ll worry about it later, all he wants is to rearrange your guts and make up for the lost time.
"bet…? i don’t care about that right now, angel."
☆ — MATSUKAWA : two weeks!
this man is constantly tugging at you and wanting something, so even two weeks felt like hell to him. he was pretty determined and confident at the start, but then he got antsy. you weren’t helping either, always wearing nothing to bed and kissing him so deeply whenever you got the chance. it was driving him crazy! he cracked eventually, which you had been hoping for. you wanted to wipe that smug smirk off his face— and you did. he was between your legs without much protest once he finally caved, shoving his too-big-cock into you.
"god, you feel even tighter than normal… you missed my dick, huh?"
he didn’t really mean to take it out on you! through the whole car ride home, he had a deathly tight grip on the steering wheel, his veins looking like they were going to pop if his grip tightened anymore. you didn’t dare to open your mouth or speak to him the whole way, just avoiding his figure by looking out the window. all of a sudden the view was so lovely.. haha..
however, your peace was torn the moment you stepped into your shared apartment. he dropped his things onto the floor without any care and dragged you into the bedroom and pushed you onto the bed.
currently, you had your head pressed onto the pillow, back arched with a deep inward curve. tears slowly pooled and escaped from your tear ducts, burning up from the constant pain pleasure.
“a-ah, fuckk..” he moaned out in between his breaths. both of his hands were gripped on your hips so tightly that you were sure that they would leave marks on it. he kept you in place, occasionally slapping your ass, giving it a light squeeze when he felt like it.
his thrusts kept hitting the same damn spot. he closed his eyes, tilted his head upwards with his pace increasing. you made noises that were borderline-pornographic, surely going to get a complaint from your neighbour— but that was the least of your worries for now. he groaned, feeling you tighten around him.
“you’re so fuckin’ tight— bet you were waiting f’ me to lose that game so you could get a piece of this, stupid slut..” the bed creaked loudly with his thrusts hitting harder and deeper, chasing his own climax. you weren’t holding up well either. you wanted to come so badly. but you knew if you did, he wouldn’t let you rest until the next morning.
“baby please–!” your moans were muffled by the pillows against your face, but it was loud enough for him to hear. your body was trembling with overstimulation, clenching hard on him.
he groaned loudly in response. after another thrust, he swiftly pulled out all the way. you whined at the loss, the emptiness. you weren’t able to say anything fast enough as he flipped you over onto your back but due to the change in distance, he grabbed your legs and dragged you towards his dick. he place both your legs on his shoulders and without warning, he shoved his cock right back into you.
with the convenient position you were both in, he smashed his lips against yours. you wrap your arms around his neck as his tongue slipped into your mouth. it was only until you were out of breath did he break away. “just a little longer, hold it out f’ me baby.” he breathed out, his warm breath hitting your neck.
after pushing you with the same cruel pace, he finally reached his climax. spilling into you with the last couple of thrusts, filling you up with his warm release. you came nearly instantly after he did, your nails scratching his back deep enough for him to hiss lightly.
the both of you spent a few minutes catching your breaths. he had long let go of holding your legs in such a tight position, letting them rest while he laid face flat on your chest boobs. you felt your eyes falling shut, but before you could finally drift away into slumber, his words woke you up with a hint of mischief.
“already tired? i’m sure you could go for a few more rounds right?”
⤷summary: totally innocent things you do that makes them lose their minds a little
⤷content: fluff, light crack, suggestive undertones??, established relationship
⤷characters: miya osamu, sakusa kiyoomi, ushijima wakatoshi, miya atsumu, kita shinsuke, and tsukishima kei
. ݁⋆ ۶ৎ ݁ OSAMU MIYA
it’s the sauce again.
you’re perched on the counter in one of his shirts, eating fried chicken with your fingers, and you don’t even notice him watching.
“you’re starin’,” you say, voice muffled with food.
“am not.” he’s absolutely lying.
he’s supposed to be mixing batter, but instead he’s thinking about the way you just licked your thumb clean—slow, absentminded. he grips the whisk tighter.
you tilt your head at him, all innocent eyes and a sauce-stained cheek. “you okay there, chef?”
osamu blinks, turns around, mutters something like “yeah, fine” while trying to look anywhere but you.
he’s not fine. not even close.
you swing your legs and hum as if you haven’t just ruined his entire morning. he swears the next time you sit on his counter like that, he’s confiscating all sauces within a ten-meter radius.
. ݁⋆ ۶ৎ ݁ SAKUSA KIYOOMI
he’s folding laundry when you come in, hair down and messy from sleep.
then you grab a scrunchie, push your hair back, and tie it up.
he swears time slows down. the wrist twist. the tug. the reveal of your neck. he blinks once, twice, and looks away like he just saw something illegal.
“what?” you ask, oblivious.
“nothing.” he’s staring at the wall now. very intently.
you shrug, go back to scrolling your phone, and he’s left pretending that he isn’t imagining pressing his lips right where your pulse beats.
later, you catch him watching you again in the mirror. “you sure it’s nothing?”
he exhales sharply. “you should... wear your hair down less.”
you laugh, because you know exactly what he means.
. ݁⋆ ۶ৎ ݁ USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI
you stretch beside him, arms raised above your head, shirt lifting just enough to show the soft curve of your stomach.
he’s reading, or at least he was. now his book is halfway forgotten.
“tired?” he asks, voice steady, but his eyes have gone a little unfocused.
“just stiff.”
he hums like he didn’t just witness a divine act. you drop your arms, sigh contentedly, and he swallows. he has a thought—something about how delicate you look and how badly he wants to trace the shape of you—but he keeps it to himself.
later, when you fall asleep next to him, curled and warm, he closes the book, presses a kiss to your forehead, and whispers something you don’t quite catch.
it sounds like mine.
. ݁⋆ ۶ৎ ݁ ATSUMU MIYA
you sass him again—hands on hips, that tiny pout, that look.
“i told you it’s your turn to do the dishes,” you say.
“i’m the breadwinner ‘round here,” he argues dramatically, “shouldn’t have to wash dishes when i’m providin’ for us.”
you stare him down. he cracks first. he always cracks first.
five minutes later, he’s elbow-deep in soap suds, muttering under his breath. you lean against the counter, smug.
“what was that?” you ask sweetly.
“nothin’, sweetheart.”
you hum, start humming a tune as you dry the plates.
he glances up. there it is again—that stupid warmth in his chest that feels like home. he grins, shakes his head.
“ya drive me crazy, ya know that?”
you smirk. “that’s the point.”
. ݁⋆ ۶ৎ ݁ KITA SHINSUKE
you’re curled up on the couch, oversized sweater sleeves covering your hands, a steaming cup of tea resting in your lap.
he stops in the doorway for a good ten seconds before he moves again.
“you okay?” you ask, smiling softly.
he nods. “you just look… peaceful.”
it’s a small thing, but it hits him every time—the way you exist so gently. the way you make his quiet evenings feel warmer.
he sits beside you, careful, and you shift enough to lean your cheek on his shoulder. he freezes for a moment, then exhales.
“that’s nice,” you mumble, eyes half-closed.
he hums. “yeah. it is.”
he’ll never admit it out loud, but he thinks you might be the most dangerous thing to ever happen to his heart.
. ݁⋆ ۶ৎ ݁ TSUKISHIMA KEI
you’re talking—about something random, probably a meme or a classmate—and your hands are moving all over the place. waving, gesturing, tapping your knuckles on the table when you pause to think.
he’s not listening. not really.
“are you even paying attention?” you ask.
“no,” he says truthfully.
you roll your eyes, pretending to be annoyed, but you’re smiling.
he watches you tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and it’s unfair, honestly, how you can make him feel this unsteady without trying.
when you reach out to poke his cheek, he catches your wrist—not hard, just enough to make you blink up at him.
“you talk too much,” he says, but his voice is softer than usual.
you grin. “and yet, you never tell me to stop.”
he doesn’t reply. just lets go of your hand and goes back to his phone—even though he’s not reading a single word on the screen.
