❥ the many times you & suna get caught making out at school.
i. case one : the bleachers, during practice.
suna rintarou makes eye contact with you in between each successful block.
you ignore it. or try to. but your thighs are squeezing & he’s licking lips & you’re mean with want so you decide you can’t wait any longer. kita calls for a water break & you call rintarou to the stands. dumb dog doesn’t even hesitate.
“what.”
you mouth a come here & he raises a brow, but his feet shuffle after you regardless. he helps you over when you’re just about to stumble under the bleachers, & before the poor boy can regain a balance of his own you’re shoving him against the wall like he’s sack wheat.
he grabs your thighs like it’s instinct.
sugar lips. sticky gloss. heavy palm that can’t decide between your back & your throat. you’re pulling him deeper by the collar & he’s tapping your inner thigh desperately as if to say ‘baby baby lemme breathe’
“where the hell is suna?!”
but his tongue is down your throat so you don’t hear kita’s yell. suna’s palming your hips & squeezing your waist & you’re gasping his name while thumbing his neck and—
“AYOOOO,”
atsumu’s pointing to both of you with gaping mouth & widened eyes. “kita i found them! they’re doing foreplay under the—!”
you’re mortified. suna on the other hand? doesn’t even bother to wipe your saliva dribbling down his chin. he stares at atsumu with twitching brows & twisted face.
“you’re so annoying,” / “and you’re so in trouble”
atsumu doubles over as kita comes in & drags suna out by the collar. you on the other hand shuffle out quietly, quick to sneak away before you can fall victim to further embarassment.
★ Y/N L/N ⎯⎯ STUDENT RECORD.
offense: EXPLICIT BEHAVIOR IN STUDENT GYM
punishment : banned from entering the gym for a week.
issued by: kita shinsuke, sports president.
‘y/n, i expect better from you. and suna, you’re on probation.’
ii. case two : rooftop roughhousing
you think you’re so intelligent.
lunch break & you’re on the school rooftop with a skip in your step. you dragged suna rintarou away from his teammates during lunch & now he trails behind you with hands in his pockets as you hop unto the railing.
thighs crossed. hair in the wind. lopsided grin with blood drenched cheeks & eyes star-achingly bright. “tell me you love me.”
he’s rolling his eyes but his palms find your thighs. “i love you.”
you pout. “say it like you mean it.”
he kisses your neck instead.
you squeal, dodging suna’s kisses as he chases your lips with a grin. he pulls away teasingly before you tug him in by the tie.
you don’t hear the door unlock behind you.
rintarou’s tongue licks your molars. you kiss at his teeth & his thumb grazes your inner thigh as you giggle between his lips. he mutters something about how your gloss tastes like home before a voice sends a jolt down your spine:
“OUT.”
the home room teacher with obnoxious clipboard in hand & outfit desperate to align with the office siren aesthetic. you cling to suna as he quickly lifts you off the railing, palm still gripping your skirt even when he sets you on the ground.
busted.
★ Y/N L/N ⎯⎯ STUDENT RECORD.
offense: INAPPROPRIATE RELATIONS IN RESTRICTED AREA
punishment: detention.
issued by: madam keqing, homeroom teacher.
‘such behavior is not tolerated on school grounds. should this happen again, parents will be notified immediately.’
iii. case three : security snitching
suna’s tapping your thighs like it’s morse code for ‘mine.’
5PM thursday / behind the school gym / your fingers & suna’s belt loop. the middle blocker’s especially hungry today. god knows that thursdays mean you don’t get to share a single class with the athlete; so on days like this when school is long closed & you think no one’s watching he kisses you like he can’t fucking breathe.
point of empasis: you think no one’s watching.
the security camera overhead gets a front row seat to your antics. suna says your gloss spoils in the heat so you lick him off your wrist like honey. he’s pressing you against the wall with teeth on your earlobe like if he bites a little more you’ll seep into his skin. you let him unbutton your shirt & kiss you till he’s love-drunk & bleary eyed.
friday morning starts off in the vice-principal’s office.
black & white images neatly printed on the desk, a fan that blows just loud enough to cover up your feet tapping. you’re mortified. suna’s fingers, however, drum on your thigh like he’s not in trouble for kissing you silly on a midsummer day.
“what do you have to say for yourselves?”
“crazy work.”
you pinch him under the table. you don’t miss the grin that tugs at his lips as he takes a good look at the photos.
“interesting response, mr.suna,” the vice-principal’s eyes narrow. without them leaving suna he continues, “and ms. l/n ? i expect better from you. both your parents will be notified.”
you’re about to apologize & plead on your behalves, but suna notices the worry in your eyes & beats you to the punch.
“wait,” he clears his throat. “i have an explanation.”
“yes?”
“we’re in love.”
he says it like it’s the cure to all your problems. you resist the urge to slap him (and yourself).
“thank you, you are both dismissed. and again, your parents will be notified.”
busted.
again.
★ Y/N L/N ⎯⎯ STUDENT RECORD.
offense: EXPLICIT BEHAVIOR ON SCHOOL PROPERTY
punishment: parent report issued, two-day detention and required report on student ethics.
issued by: mr. ayato, vice principal.
‘inarizaki high makes it a point to ensure student safety by strictly prohibiting sexual or explicit acts on the premises. we hope ms.l/n will heed our warnings, regardless of whether or not she is “in love.”
osamu realized that suna was down bad for you very early on in your relationship.
you see, suna was a bit of a fickle guy. an "i do whatever the hell i want" kind of guy. a lot of his actions had no rhyme or reason and he did them based purely on amusement or simply "why not?"
for example, he had a little game he liked to play that osamu had no idea how suna got the idea for. whenever he'd meet unimportant strangers like baristas, cashiers, people on the street, he would completely lie to their faces about everything about himself.
he was not suna rintaro and he did not play volleyball. he'd give them different identities each time with a completely straight face like this was completely normal.
he'd tell the barista that he was in college and currently pledging to a fraternity. he'd tell the sweet old lady in the park that he was a single father of two trying his best. he'd tell the cashier that he was an italian fashion designer in a really oddly perfect accent.
"why d'ya do that?" osamu had asked him once.
"just 'cos," suna had answered nonchalantly, "why not?"
that was the thing about suna. he was hard to pin down.
why did he do this? for fun.
why did he do that? he just felt like it.
he was like a gust of wind; a wave at your feet. he did as he pleased when he pleased.
none of suna's "identities" had a particular pattern. he gave the strangers completely randomized names and incredibly detailed life stories that he would literally come up with on the spot.
one day, his name was akane, and he was studying biology at fukuro uni. he was born in okinawa, hence his dialect.
another, he was hizashi, and he had three beautiful baby girls that he was mighty proud of. they were all young, so they were quite a handful, but his mom was helping out, and he couldn't be more grateful for his family!
the next, he was kaito, and he just moved from his family's rice farm in akita. his family also grew fruit, like pears and apples. he moved to the city to try and fulfill his dream of having an acting career!
seriously, there was no point trying to make sense of him. osamu began to wonder if suna was some sort of social experiment bot put out by the government.
however, at some point, right around when you and suna had started talking, osamu began to notice something. suna's actions usually had one pattern: that there was no pattern. however, he began to notice that one was actually forming.
his identities and stories were still random, but there seemed to be a constant:
you.
even as watari, the aspiring engineer, he had a new girlfriend who's not good with mornings.
even as miyano, the very young grandparent, he had a lovely wife who liked to surprise him with backhugs.
even as tooru, the nice young man who volunteers at the animal shelter, he had a girl he was talking to that had the cutest smile.
every identity, no matter what age, background, career, preference, whatever, included a girl who sounded exactly like you.
it was then that osamu realized.
it didn't matter what form, identity, timeline, or universe suna had randomly picked that day for his own amusement.
he would find you, choose you, and love you in every single one.
notes: i feel like i saw something similar like a few years back but it was BL not 'x reader' and that was what inspired this but i cant find it. i dont know if im crazy and thought that up on my own or if im just stupid but if you see the original or if you're the original, let me know and i will credit you!
rintaro doesn’t look up from his phone as kaiya bothers him, tugging on his shirt and prodding his arm to try and stir him from his comfort in bed next to you. you snicker and watch fondly at your 10 year old’s attempts to rouse her father, to seemingly no avail.
“dad, i need you to come see,” she whines. “it’s really important-“
“no,” rintaro is quick to answer. “no. no no.”
“why not!” she huffs.
“because-“ he finally spares kaiya a glance, “every time one of you rat children come in here to get me up to kill a spider, or see the moon, or check for monsters, you sneak into my bed and take my spot next to mom. i deserve some mom time too, yanno.”
kaiya groans as she tugs his wrist, “daaaaaad, its serious!”
“what is it?”
she pouts at him, flashing him a lethal set of puppy eyes akin to yours. he sighs and scrubs his face with his hands, “if i entertain this, and you steal my spot, so help me god-“
“i won’t,” she says softly. “please?”
rintaro sighs.
he swings his legs out of bed and ushers kaiya to lead the way, “go on then. let’s go.” he follows her closer to the doorway, and you raise your brows in surprise as she actually brings her dad to the doorway.
only to then cackle when she darts to your bed, trying to get under the covers.
“YOU LITTLE-“
“i want to cuddle with mommmmm!”
“SO DO I!”
kaiya squeals as rintaro grabs her ankle and drags her to the edge of the bed, picking her up into his arms while she flails and screams in protest. you hear him ranting in the hallway over kaiya’s whines and giggles to be put down, “you damn kids, you’re lucky i don’t call uncle shinsuke to straighten your asses out. you wake up your sisters i swear to all the unholy gods-“
you shake your head and turn back to the tv-
only to smile fondly as a familiar face pokes his head from the doorway.
akito is quick to rush into rintaro’s warm spot, smiling in content as you open your arm for him to cuddle into your side. you kiss his head and scratch his scalp, letting him melt against you.
“you know he’s gonna have a conniption,” you hum.
“he should know better than to leave his spot unattended.”
you snort and let him cuddle closer, “my baby boy, what am i gonna do with you?”
“uhm, give me all your attention?”
“you always have my attention-“
“you’re joking.” rintaro stands in the doorway in disbelief, and you hear akito snicker in satisfaction. “you little freak.”
“it’s mom-akito time, back off,” your son says, clinging to you closer.
“you know, there was a time when you liked me the best,” your husband hisses.
“i don’t miss those days,” you titter. rintaro glares playfully.
“those days are gone, father. mom is mom.”
once again, rintaro scrubs his face with his hands, “i’m not dealing with this, i’m sleeping on the couch.” he turns on his heel to stalk down the hallway; you hear akito sigh and stir slightly.
“dad, wait,” he says. rintaro pauses and turns back to his bedroom, blinking unamused at his son. “don’t forget your pillow,” he reminds, tossing the fluffed pillow at his father.
10.31 ִ ࣪𖤐 costume sex , ft. rintarou suna, issei matsukawa, hajime iwaizumi, shoyo hinata (and a surprise bonus!)
if you'd like to be tagged on any given day or for specific people, send an ask including the dates or characters you'd like to be tagged on. xx, lilly
if u were wondering, the 9th is my birthday so i'm doing a special extra upload that day with a birthday-sex-centric post!
it’s been four months since you broke up with suna rintaro. four months since you’ve cut ties, went no contact, and even avoided any gatherings with mutual friends. all that effort for four months just to end up in his bedroom, pinned under him, screaming his name again.
“aah—fuck, rin! nnngh—slow down—“ you gasped, body jolting forward with every snap of his hips. your back arched off the sheets, nails digging into his shoulders as he pounded into you relentlessly, every drag of his cock against your velvet walls sending sensations throughout your body. “you’re clenching so hard for someone who hates me.” he murmured against your neck, trailing his kisses all the way to your jawline. “thought you were avoiding me, what happened? missed me that bad?”
“n—no—unngh fuck—!” tears slipped from the corner of your eyes, vision blurring with every sharp thrust. you refused to admit it, but you hadn’t been stretched out this good for a while and god, you forgot how addictive it was having him inside you. “no? really?” he mocked, pulling back just enough to leave his tip in before slamming back into you in one harsh thrust. “listen to yourself, baby. your pussy’s dripping all over my cock, and you’re saying you don’t miss me?”
his pace was brutal and merciless — tip punishing your cervix with every collision of his hips against your ass, punching the air out of you. every brush of his blunt head against your sweet spot had you squirming under him, your moans turning into incoherent sobs. he’s fucking you hard, making you cry out his name as he leaned down, lips brushing against your ear before murmuring, “crying my name like that.. this is what you call hate? sure doesn’t fucking sound like it.”
every word that left his lips left a sting, stirring up forgotten feelings and something like need, something like desperation — an ache that you refused to name. “haah—rin—please.. want you—“ you choked out, cheeks flushed and expression dazed as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close. “hm? what is it? say it louder f’me, baby.”
“mmnghh—need you, rin! stop teasin—“ he shut you up with a kiss, tongues entwining as if speaking an unspoken language, swallowing every moan as he bullied your aching cunt. with a loud mewl of his name, your walls spasmed around his length, squeezing him so tight he could barely move. “fuuuck, baby. squeezin’ me like that.” he grunted, forcing your legs apart with his hips as he watched you soak the sheets, still rutting into you ruthlessly. “look at you, so fucking messy.”
“mmmnghh—aah—too much—can’t take anymore!” your body was convulsing under him now, breathless gasps replacing your cries. “just a little more, baby. you can take it, can’t you?” he said, breaths turning shallow as his hips jerked erratically against you. every whine of his name had his cock throbbing and twitching, feeling the familiar strain his lower abdomen before he let go, filling you to the brim.
“shiiit—this pussy’s mine, okay?” he growled, fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs. he pulled out slowly, watching him cum leak out of you before tilting your chin up so your gaze met his. “no one else can fuck you like this, don’t forget it.”
suna lifts his gaze up from his phone to see you peering quizzically into a mirror.
"it's a new lip tint that i bought yesterday," you explain. "i can't tell if i like the way it looks on me though.."
the dark plum shade on you is tantalizing, and his heart rate quickens. there's no way you think that the color doesn't suit you perfectly. suna has the sudden urge to kiss you right now.
he watches as your tongue darts out to lick your lips. "i swear it tastes like exactly like grapefruit," you muse, furrowing your brow.
your absentminded comments and actions are driving him crazy. he approaches you from the back and places his hands on your waist, effectively turning you around to face him.
"hm?"
without warning, suna captures your mouth in a kiss. his tongue slides across your lips, making sure to take his time to savor the so-claimed citrus flavor of the lip tint. once he pulls away, you're left breathless and flushed.
"don't you think it's a little selfish if i can't get a taste too?" he asserts. there's a residual stain of purple on his mouth from kissing you so deeply, and it's unfair how good he looks.
you spot the change in his expression, impercetible to anyone except for you. a smug smile sits on suna's face as he's pleased to view your flustered reaction because of him. but you both know your effect on him is twofold.
You’re on the phone with your boyfriend, discussing plans for the evening while you dodge the masses of people walking past you in the afternoon rush.
“Okay, I’m almost at the metro, we should probably hang up before the signal cuts,” you tell him, looking over your shoulder before crossing the bike lane. “See you soon!”
“See you soon. Love you,” he said, hurriedly like it would mix into the static noise of the phone call but reach your heart all the same.
“Huh?” you said, raising your voice to indicate you hadn’t heard him.
“I said I love you,” he repeated bashfully, frowning at the poster on his wall.
“Ha ha!” you chanted, making some people turn to you, startled, before continuing in the direction they were going.
“Eh?”
“Made you say it twice, heard you the first time, love you, mwah!”
“Wh-“ Then you hung up with an evil little laugh.
Wearing a wide grin, which probably made you look like an aspiring psychopath, you skipped down the stairs to the metro, excited to see your boyfriend, who loves you x 2.
Tsukishima, Hoshiumi, Suna, Kenma, Osamu, Daishou, Kunimi, Iwaizumi, Kyotani, Sakusa, anyone you want it to be<3
masterlist
inspired by a conversation I had with @cottonlemonade<3
in which you decide to see how your pro volleyball player boyfriend reacts to you wearing a jersey. a jersey that so happens to not be his, and not even his team?? c'mon now.
a.n; all my favs go pro this is great
ushijima wakatoshi stares you down as you're cooking in the kitchen. you can feel the intense bore of his curious eyes as you welcome him home from practice. his wandering vision takes in the black jersey with the name "sakusa" in big, bold letters across the back. you look over your shoulder when he doesn't answer, and are met with his bewildered state.
"oh are you interested in my new shirt?" you pull at the hem, examining the MSBY jersey look-alike as you turn to face you boyfriend. he takes three long strides through the kitchen before he's caged you between himself and the counter.
"i don't like it. it's representing another team. though i am acquainted to sakusa..." he grasps his chin between his thumb and forefinger, pondering for a moment. "no, i don't like it."
you let your head fall onto his shoulder, defeated by his straightforwardness. he runs a hand down your spine, "is there a problem?"
you groan, meeting his eyes, "i thought you'd react more to it, like... be jealous or something, gods.." you say, rolling your eyes.
"well, i am jealous, i thought that was obvious?" he tilts his head to the side slightly, like a puppy.
"no, it wasn't!" you drop your forehead onto his chest and groan again. his 'matter-of-fact' attitude is probably going to kill you one day.
bokuto kotaro eyed the green shirt suspiciously, "when did you get that?"
you hum in a fake thought, "i think a while ago?" you turn, revealing the full front of the jersey. a large number 17, followed by the name sendai frogs.
"hey! it's tsukki-bro! hey, wait..." his shoulders fall, along with his smile. you almost gave up the act right then and there, he looks so upset immediately. he drags one foot after another, stopping in front of you. he pinches the mock jersey and rolls it between his fingers.
"it's not as soft as mine is." he mumbles, eyes still trained on the details of the shirt.
you wrap your arms around his neck and attempt to catch his eyes, but you realize they aren't sad. they're crinkled at the edges like he's smiling wide. seems like he's got you figured out.
kotaro figures you've caught onto his fake sadness, and a smile spreads across his lips as he kisses your forehead, "i saw the receipt on my email, you used my card."
"shit."
sakusa kiyoomi grimaces at your package as you hold it up for him to examine. if kiyoomi didn't find the green utterly horrid, it was the fact that you spent money, probably his, on a jersey that didn't even support his team.
"it's like you spun a wheel with teams on it and bought the first one it landed on," he watches as you rip the plastic off and instantly throw the jersey on. "oh my god."
you pull the shirt over your head, fitting into the sleeves, "what?"
"you're not even going to wash it first?" you pause. you hadn't thought about that, nor the fact that your boyfriend was now judging you twice over.
"i, um... no?" kiyoomi rolls his eyes, a telling look clouds his eyes. "wait, are you jealous?!" you practically leap off the couch, the green jersey falls fully into place, the hem grazing your thighs, as your boyfriend avoids your eyes.
"you are, i knew it!"
"i'm not.." he mumbles, cheeks turning just the slightest shade of pink. "why did you pick the sendai frogs anyways? do you even know the player you picked?"
"it was kyotani, and not really, i've only ever seen their team play on tv, like once." you reach around your head and pull the shirt off, throwing it to the side. "but you're jealous!"
"am not."
the jersey was a short lived accessory in your closet, but best believe kiyoomi threw it out later that night. the shirt wasn't even soft enough to turn into a cleaning rag or sleep shirt, in his best opinion.
oikawa tooru, your loving boyfriend, stands in front of you, absolutely fuming as he eyes the white schweiden adler's shirt. what makes it even worse is the name and number you've picked. #20, kageyama tobio.
"get rid of that, like, yesterday."
"um, how about no?"
"what do you mean, 'no'!"
you stand from the couch, "oh tooru, you grew up with iwaizumi as a best friend, you've been told no before." then take off towards your bedroom.
"you-! get back over here!" tooru tails you into the bedroom before you can shut and lock the door, leaving him in the hall. he grabs a handful of jersey pulling you towards the closet as you protest, trying to scratch at his arm like a cat.
"here is a treasure trove of shirts and sweaters at your disposal, why on earth would you need that."
you wiggle free from his, not surprisingly, strong grip and fall back onto the neatly made bed, wrinkling the sheets. "because, i knew you'd freak."
tooru whips around, slack jawed, "oh, and it was iwazumi's idea." if his mouth could fall any further to the ground, you'd have to pick it up for him.
"you're both so horribly mean to me!"
kyotani kentaro, a man of many emotions but little words. for some reason some 15 months ago, you decided that he was a great target for your affection. it took a long time poking and prodding at the volleyball player for his number, and by the grace of the gods, it worked. you broke down his walls and caved yourself a cozy little home in his heart. now, he'd ask for nothing different-
"what the fuck is that."
you look between your drink and your phone, one in each hand, "what do you mean?" you ask with a sweet smile.
he rounds the table, "oh piss off, you know what i mean," and pulls your chair out from the table, while tugging at your oversized argentina jersey t-shirt. the blue shirt ripples under kentaro's hold.
"oh, that! there was a giveaway online on them after the argentina team won their last big game, people online were saying they were soft, so i entered for one to sleep in. i needed a new sleep shirt anyways." you don't miss the disgusted look that your boyfriend sports so well, it deepens as he realizes the name on the back. oikawa.
after a moment, he notices your shoulders shaking lightly in laughter, sensing his displeasure. you rise from the chair, bringing him and his scrunched face into your hold, "i'm just fucking with ya, i specifically picked oikawa, too."
he huffs with a stupid smile, rolling his eyes but reciprocating the hug, "gross, get rid of it."
miya atsumu's jaw drops when he catches a sight of you lounging comfortably on the couch, in a jersey that is most definitely not his. he swiftly makes his way between you and the television, ignoring your protest. his brow furrows when you don't immediately acknowledge him and his pout, (though he will 100% deny he's pouting, miya atsumu does not pout like a child).
you lean back on the couch as he advances, "off, take it off," he says while grasping at the neck, trying to pull the jersey from you.
"atsumu stop, you're gonna stretch it!" you protest, trying to blindly swat his hands away.
he stops, the jersey falls back over your eyes and you're met with the most dramatically hurt expression ever, "you care more about this, than my feelings?!"
"i spent good money on it, besides, you went to school with suna so i thought it would be cute!"
"it is far from cute," he spits, eyes full of envy for what could have been you in his clothes. "if i let you re-steal the grey sweater can i throw that thing out?"
"... possibly."
atsumu crosses his arms, "i'll forfeit my movie choice tonight."
"you've got yourself a deal, sir."
"rin come help me with this!" suna rintaro shuffles off the couch at your call, making his way to the hallway between the living room and kitchen of your share apartment.
he leans on the doorframe as he watches you move around a picture frame, "where should this go?" you turn to him, handing the frame to him. it was a picture of the two of you and the miya twins at the recent festival that passed. it was nice to see the two of them, and thankfully both their schedules allowed for them to come.
rintaro smiles at the picture, gaze lifting to you, who's looking at him expectantly. his view lowers to your attire, a simple pair of black shorts and a shirt he's never seen before.
you catch him examining the jersey-copy and turn around to reveal the name miya across the back. you look over your shoulder and are met with rintaro's sharp eyes, judging your choice of player. and team.
he reaches out and places a hand on your shoulder, turning you back around to face him. "hey, why don't we have a bonfire tonight, i'm sure the pit is free and i have the perfect fire starter." you feel the shirt tighten by your shoulder, he's got an iron grip on the jersey, but his face remains calm as ever.
a little too calm, it's kind of unnerving.
large white letters stare tsukishima kei right back in his dumbfounded face. your boyfriend places his gym bag down by the door, walking into the kitchen, ducking under the frame that just slightly too short for him.
"hinata, really?" his voice sounded extremely irritated, but his face softened as you turned to face him.
you place your mug down, "yeah! i remember you went to school with him, i thought it was cool you both went pro!"
"i don't care what that blockhead did. more importantly, where did you get that?" the blonde gestures to your torso, flicking his wrist around distastefully.
you smile, "i ordered it online! since it's a popular team they have their own line of lookalikes, they're really soft too." while you praise the MSBY jersey, kei's brief look of jealousy goes unseen.
"you bought a jersey based on someone i went to high school with?" he steps closer, just to flick you on the forehead, "that's stupid."
you rub the spot, while swatting his chest with the back of your other hand, "you're stupid!"
"no, it's stupid that we're not burning that thing yet."
masterlist
p.s; i was gonna do goshiki but realized how CHOPPED he is in the timeskip. sorry my beloved i can't take you seriously with those baby bangs.
