Offerings Made To The Wise Witches Of The West,

summary: it’s the little things that make him realize he’s in love (alternatively: the four times suna pretended to be asleep and the one time he didn’t). 

pairing: suna x reader

genre/warnings: fluff, n/a

wc: 3.5k

i. 

( a blanket )

Despite the gray clouds overhead and the scent of lingering ochre, rain refused to fall. Hyogo was cast into a monochromatic haze, colors washed and worn away. Suna stares out the window in your living room instead of working on the next math problem, lethargy crawling into the hollows between his bones. His gaze flickers over to you where you’re sitting on the other side of the coffee table, chin propped in the palm of your hand, writing calmly in your workbook. 

Tutor turned friend, you’d been helping him with his homework since the middle of second year, and he’d grown used to your presence. Unlike his teammates, you didn’t require him to spend copious amounts of energy just to keep up with the conversation, and so at the start of third year he’d accepted your invitation to study on weekends together. 

He looks back down at the half-finished problem. He didn’t actually get much studying done, but the quiet ambiance of your house was preferable to the cluttered noise of his; having younger siblings and parents with naturally loud voices meant it was rarely silent.

Plus, Atsumu and Osamu didn’t know where you lived, so they couldn’t drag him into another one of their weekend adventures that would ultimately result in disaster. 

(He was still annoyed at narrowly escaping arrest. It took a lot of energy to jump a fence.)

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You guys remember frat boy!osamu?

Well, you guys broke up.

It was stupid. You spent maybe half an hour yelling at each other. Just because Osamu wasn't like his frat brothers didn't mean he wasn't a frat brother, and fuck, you just wish he would say something to the dozens of girls who threw themselves at him daily. It hurts! How doesn't he get that?!?

After a couple of months, Atsumu begs to you come back around the house. Just because you and his brother stopped dating doesn't mean that Atsumu had to lose someone he now considered his best friend.

After the blonde twin blows up your phone with invites to a party at the frat house, you decided to say fuck it.

You show up in some tight jeans and a lace-up cami. You don't necessarily want to impress anyone; all you're going to be doing is talking to Atsumu and drinking a couple of beers, but it's nice to dress up sometimes.

You expect to see Osamu in his room like he usually would be. Even before you dated, he never participated in a party, but 20 minutes after you arrive, you see him walk into the house from the backyard with a girl on his arm. Atsumu tries to place himself in front of you to act as a human shield, but it's already too late, and you're making your way out of the house as he yells for you.

Once back at your dorm, you check your phone and see a snapchat from Suna, but you don't bother to open it. Instead, you wash off your makeup and cry yourself to sleep.

You don't get to sleep very long though. A loud knock at your door wakes you, and you check the time to see that it had been an hour since you'd left the party. You assume it's Atsumu trying to make you feel better, so you open the door.

"'Tsumu, I appreciate your efforts but-" You stop talking when you see who it really is.

"Wrong twin," Osamu says, running a hand through his gray hair. He holds out his hands. "I, uh, the store didn't have yer favorite flowers, but I thought ya'd like these ones..."

You only stare at the flowers. "What do you want, Miya?"

"Can I come in?" He asks. "I just want to talk, and if afterwards, ya never want to see me again, I understand."

You let him in, and he thanks you. After he sets the flowers on your desk, you flick on the lights. You gasp as you see a bloody nose and bruised eye. "'S-Samu..."

He chuckles. "It's okay," he reassures you. "It was just 'Tsumu. No big deal." He waits for you to calm down a bit before speaking again. "I miss ya," he tells you. "And I'm so fucking sorry for what I did to ya. I love ya, and I can't believe I ever allowed myself to let ya feel insecure. I should have just told all those girls to back off. If the situation were reversed, I'd want the same."

Your eyebrows furrowed in frustration. "I don't get it 'Samu," you say. "Why did it take you months to get it? The girl you were with tonight was one of the girls who I asked you to tell to back off!"

He puts his head down in shame. "I know," he admits. "And I..." He takes a deep breath. "I overheard 'Tsumu and Hinata talking before the party, and 'Tsumu said he invited you, and Hinata said he was excited to see you again, and I just... I guess I got upset that ya were hanging out with my dumb brother, and I wanted to make ya jealous."

"You're a fucking idiot," you tell him.

"I know, but I do love ya and miss ya," he says. He walks over to you and holds your face in his hands. "And I promise to be better for ya. Just give me one more chance."

You look up at him, your gaze softening as your hands reach up to brush under his bruised eye. It'll need to be iced in the morning. "You really promise? I can't let you in just to get shattered again, 'Samu. You're the only man I've ever loved."

He nods in response. "And if I break my promise, which I won't, I'll let ya beat me up with 'Tsumu next time."

You laugh at his words and lean up to kiss him. "Okay," you whisper. "One more chance."

Osamu grins like a kid on Christmas and picks you up to spin you around before pulling you in for a passionate kiss. "Ya won't regret it."

He sleeps in your dorm room that night. You lay on top of him with your head on his chest as he plays with the ends of your hair, and he falls asleep with a smile on his face.

...

...

...

BONUS:

The next morning, Osamu sits on your bed, holding a bag of ice up against his eye. He's got a childish pout on his face.

"Ya can stop watching it now!" He grumbles.

Meanwhile, you're standing across from him, gawking at your phone. "Damn, baby, 'Tsumu really got you this time," you tell him. You wince as you watch Atsumu's fist makes contact with Osamu's nose. "Suna's a great camera man."

Copyright © 2022 oooobokuto.tumblr.com - do not copy, modify, repost, or translate any of my works. any action to do so will be considered plagiarism.

texting fwb!suna 'happy father's day' and then ignoring his texts and calls just to make him sweat a bit

rawr

✘ a.k. x reader

summary: akaashi bought you a cat but now all he wants is to respectfully yeet it.

wc: 1 k

✘ fluff; no warnings

✘ an: hi!!! omg i just love akaashi like <33333  i hope you enjoy ^-^ asks are open!

masterlist

AKAASHI was torn. on one hand, he wanted to melt at just how adorable you looked. on the other he wanted to physically throw the small, black cat you carefully held to your chest. he silently fumed as you purred at the cat, slathering its face with small, feather-light kisses. those were supposed to be his kisses and his kisses alone.

you had been dating for a while now—hitting the hearty 6 years in one month. and it was a big step, the mere act of raising a pet together. nourishing it and loving it as if it were your own child. though, akaashi couldn’t help but feel envious of the feline who nuzzled its furry head into your chin. you gave the cat a smile, mewling soft words of love into its ear, scratching its head.

“that’s a good kitty, who’s mommy’s favourite.”

akaashi stilled.

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heart eyes.

Ramen

anon request: why they call it falling x osamu miya

126. why they call it falling

osamu; 1,078 words; fluff and the most fleeting of suggestive themes; really just a character study on the miya twins + reader as a conduit for character dev

he has always had someone who knew exactly what he was thinking, exactly how he was feeling. because when god made twins (or so osamu thinks), they got really fucking lazy and probably just hit ctrl+v one too many times.

when he meets you for a first time, he wonders if this is what it felt like for a hurricane and a typhoon to finally learn about each other, the only difference between them being where they occur — only an entire ocean and half a world apart.

“i think… i met someone,” he says.

“i think… i’m done with volleyball after high school ends,” he says.

“i think you’re an idiot,” atsumu says.

“do you… think i’m an idiot?” osamu asks, sitting across from you on a summer evening, long after practice has been over, but the stickiness of the day still lingers on his skin. tsumu is still mad at him, but what else is new?

you regard him for a minute, pressing your lips into a soft, thin line as you stare out across the darkening horizon.

“no…” you say finally, looking down at your hands, loose in your lap. osamu looks down at his own hands, loose in his lap, his palms littered with calluses from all the hours of practice. all the hours of dreaming.

“i don’t think you’re an idiot.”

osamu smiles, nodding, “thanks…”

the truth is that it’s been way too long since he’s felt like the shadow of himself, or perhaps of someone else, and it’s been way too long since he’s really known what it felt like to do something with his whole entire soul and feel good about it. and that’s a kind of growing up too — so he learns — that’s a kind of changing.

“we wanted to be the best,” he admits, chuckling to himself, the thought of it now somehow ridiculous in a way that it’s never been to him before. he shakes his head and sighs, shaking our his bangs from his eyes as he casts his gaze up towards the first burgeoning stars.

“you still can — what’s stopping you?” you ask, your grin going lopsided in the way he likes. and when he looks back at you, he sees the world reflected in your eyes.

later that night, when he is making music of your body with his lips skimming a line along the sharp of your exposed collarbones, when his fingers are tugging you apart, when you are pushing back against him, pushing him back into the mattress of his own bed and atsumu is nowhere to be found (probably still sulking somewhere with the rest of the team), you pull back and smile at him — the lopsided smile he loves so much and he can’t help but lean up to kiss it from your lips.

and he feels it in his own body then, the years and years and years of his practice, the years and years and years of his hard work. him and his twin brother — the mirrored half of himself, the light to (perhaps) his shadow. ying and yang and all that slow, smooth jazz.

he grins too and kisses you. he kisses you hard and fast and he makes music of his own body then, too. because his body has long since been an instrument and he was born knowing how to play every single one of its notes.

“stay,” he says, after he’s had his fill of you, because a part of him knows that he’ll be just as hungry later.

“maybe,” you answer, even as you both hear his brother come home.

atsumu comes back to find both of you asleep, the sheets twisted over your very, very naked bodies. and a part of him wants to hate it but another part of him doesn’t. he can’t.

because this is what happens when a hurricane and a typhoon learn about each other for the very first time — they are so, so much the same thing, made different only by their times and places. but they are still just beating hearts and half-caught breaths — they are still just wind and rain and a tunnel between the sea and the never-ending sky.

“what are you gonna do?” atsumu asks, not looking at his twin.

osamu shrugs, “dunno… maybe i’ll make rice balls.”

“hn. you do make good riceballs.”

“i… i think i really like her, y’know.”

atsumu heaves a long, deep breath. he nods.

“yeah. i know.”

osamu grins, “right. of course you do.”

and the truth is that when god made twins, they probably hit ctrl+v one too many times, and they have always known things about each other that no one else will ever know or fully understand. like, the things that make them different, totally and inexplicably.

“he’s gonna be the best in the world,” osamu says, his eyes bright as twin stars as you sit next to him, the pair of you glued to the match on the tv screen. there’s an apron around samu’s waist and rice sticking to his fingers.

you almost laugh.

“he already is,” you say.

it takes three seconds of osamu to turn to you, his grin going lopsided as he watches you watch him.

“i — i think i love you.”

and you really do laugh this time.

“yeah. i know.”

osamu only rolls his eyes, goes back to pressing the musubi between his palms as the commercial break cuts to some curry commercial featuring an incredibly deadpanned kageyama. he packs the rice in tight and hands it to you.

“how’s it taste?”

you take your time savoring the flavor, grinning as you take another huge bite. the smile on osamu’s face spreads and spreads and spreads.

“like the best in the world,” you say, before shoving the whole thing into your mouth just to make osamu laugh.

“you’re… an idiot.”

you swallow hard and reach for a glass of water.

osamu catches your hand and presses his lips to the inside of your wrist, letting his lips linger there even as the commercial break ends.

“i know,” you say, nodding as you both turn back to the screen. the rice is warm and fresh and the nori is crispy and just the perfect amount of salty.

“yeah, i know."

Yamaguchi’s type is……..

semester is over so i’m a lil more free !! yap to me or ask about me!! i love music and funny things and i don’t like bad opinions! <3

idrk who’s active on here either…. my old mutuals kinda went super inactive but ya come chat!

i rly like tumblr format and i wanna chat sm so

wsg

thinking about best friend!sero who buys a vibrating tongue ring as a ‘joke’. He gets it in the mail when you’re at his house, and you’re both laughing about it because surely something so small couldn’t really feel that good. and then he’s asking to try it on you and you’re struggling to hide the hitch in your breath and the squeezing of your thighs. laughing it off until— oh. he’s not joking. and then suddenly your thighs are clamping down over his head and your fingers are yanking at the roots of his hair. his hips are rutting into the couch and he’s moaning into your heat and—

“when they’re feeling insecure”

Pairing: atsumu x reader; kita x reader; suna x reader Genre: reverse comfort-fluff; drabbles & headcanons WC: 5.169 Warnings: N/A A/N: thanks for the request! this is actually the first piece we’ve worked on together so we’re excited for you all to see it! enjoy :) -Dawn & Luna

since you and Atsumu tended to be strapped on time to spend with each other—with you working full-time and him being a national volleyball player—you liked to meet up with him after practice sometimes so you can pick up some food and get some quality time together

he was always taking his sweet time to get showered and ready to go, so you got to bond with some of his teammates, his captain Meian especially

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