Not Me Missing A Man… I’m Tweaking The Fuck Out

what it’s like kissing nagi, reo and barou !

kissing nagi always starts off a little lazy, slowly pressing his lips against yours. he always takes his time with it — exploring your mouth, learning your reactions, relishing in the small noises you let out. he kisses like time means nothing to him, not when he’s got you in his arms. each languid movement from his lips feels like ocean waves lapping against your skin. the kind that tries to lull you into deeper waters. he mumbles your name against your lips and like a sirens call, you follow it. leaving you securely wrapped up in his arms as he continues to dive into you for as long as he wants.

reo on the other hand, kisses you like the world is on fire. and yet that doesn’t stop him from taking all the air out of your lungs. consistently leaving you both breathless, the passion driving the two of you in a downward spiral. one that has you chasing his lips everytime he pulls away to catch his breath, wasting no time in putting his mouth back on yours. because the choice between breathing and kissing you was never difficult, and he’d choose you over everything and anything in this burning world.

but then there’s kissing barou. who never does anything without purpose. he’ll leave with you swollen lips every time — nipping at them to draw you closer to him. each of his movements are filled with so much confidence, so much precision. for extra support, he’s not afraid to grab onto you and pull you close — grounding you so the center of your world is him, just as he intends. the deep rumbles emitting from his chest feels like an earthquake threatening to swallow you whole and yet all you can do is hold on just a little tighter.

‎♡‧₊˚ ꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI. mentions of sex but nothing too explicit. barou being emotionally unavailable until he isn’t >_<

exboyfriend!barou who doesn’t let you move on, won’t let you forget about him as he texts you every night at 2am asking if you’re up.

exboyfriend!barou who knows you’ll always come back to him. laying under him so perfectly as he plunges into you, telling you how much you need him and ignoring the fact that it’s actually the other way around.

exboyfriend!barou who says he doesn’t care that you’re starting to date other people again because he knows you’ll always come right back to him. or at least, that’s what his ego is feeding him.

exboyfriend!barou who doesn’t know what to do when you stop answering his texts and start posting pictures with your new boyfriend. the sweet, heavenly smile you used to give him was now being given to someone he thought as undeserving. 

exboyfriend!barou who is too prideful to ask for you back, so he tries to move on too by going to the club on the weekends. even though he spends most of his time there lurking on your social media, hoping that you’ll end up at the same club as him. even so, he’ll reluctantly find someone else to warm your spot, not even realizing that every girl he takes home has some resemblance to you.

exboyfriend!barou who starts to feel emptier and emptier after hooking up with the other girls. his heart craves more, it craves you. in the morning he finds himself scrolling through your old pictures together and the twinge of pain in his heart grows into something bigger — something larger than his pride.

exboyfriend!barou who finds himself in front of your door to your apartment, absolutely drenched from the thunderous rain that was coming down. but he doesn’t care, he couldn’t play this game anymore, the storm in his heart far more dangerous than the one outside.

exboyfriend!barou who is shocked to see you answer the door full of tears as you explain your boyfriend dumped you recently. as much as he loved to see you cry, he never wanted you to be in actual pain. he finds his heart swelling when you bring him a towel to dry off and invite him in for hot tea.

exboyfriend!barou who listens to your every word as you tell him what happened, hanging onto them like if he didn’t you’d disappear again. he reached over to softly wipe your tears away, feeling like an absolute hypocrite as he told you that your newest ex was a piece of shit. a flicker of anger igniting in him at the guy that hurt your heart, only to quickly extinguish when he realized he was probably no better in your eyes.

exboyfriend!barou who explains how much of a mistake he made by letting you go, finally opening up his heart to you in the way you always craved. even if you didn’t accept him back into his arms, he was surprisingly okay with it, but he just needed you to know he would fight for you anyway.

exboyfriend!barou who suddenly feels himself choking back tears as the last of his pride melts away as you wrap your arms around him, comforting him in a way only you could. even though he knows he has a long way to go to earn your forgiveness, he plans on getting you back no matter how long it takes.

exboyfriend!barou who takes his time with you that night instead of his usual rough, animalistic nature. he treats you tenderly, kissing away any tears you shed as he tries to gently mend your heart after he had been so careless with it.

exboyfriend!barou who makes love to you for the first time, whispering proclamations of his adoration for you as he brings you over the edge over and over again. the usual degrading turning into breaths of praise that fill your heart with hope.

exboyfriend!barou who holds you close when you two finish as if his embrace will piece together your hearts once again. his large arms wrapped around you as he can’t stop placing kisses over every inch of your skin.

exboyfriend!barou who vows he will never take you for granted again. who showers you with all the love he held back from you before, adamant on never letting you feel unloved. and he’ll do it every day for the rest of your life, if you’ll let him.

I know I've said this a hundred times but if you're worried about palestinian fundraisers being scams at least consider donating to MSF. It's a highly reputable organization which has broken its long-standing neutrality to denounce Israel in front of the UN. Here's all the aid MSF is providing to Gazans (documentation available in multiple languages).

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."

Confessing Through Kabedon But It's a Failure (HCs)

A/N: High school setting. This is all crack. I think I’m funny sometimes. Tagging @sempiternal-amour and @miki-snake, who helped me with this idea.

Miya Atsumu

Was too overexcited to kabedon you, he ran straight for you. In your fear of being barrelled over, you dodge and Atsumu ends up running straight into the wall. His face was red as fuck when he hit the wall with a loud “THWACK” and he falls on his back. Suna has it on video. Osamu looks satisfied. Omimi is dying from laughter. Kita is confused. You are also confused what the fuck just happened.

Miya Osamu

Slapped the wall so hard, the sound made everyone around you two look. You look up at him staring silently wondering what the fuck is going on; but then there’s a tinkling sound and Osamu’s off running after the ice cream truck. You just stood there going, “What the fuck?!” Suna and Akagi walks up to you with a muttered, “Condolences.” Atsumu felt so bad, he gave you his pudding. Aran is facepalming.

Kuroo Tetsurou

Kabedon-ed you but leaned in so closely that you had to crane your neck up to look at him. You got annoyed and tug on his tie to lower his face to your level. Which short-circuited his brain and now he forgot what he was going to say as he gapes at you like a fish. You thought he was messing with you so you just left. He stayed there staring at the wall, face red and brain still fried. Yaku saw and told the entire team.

Kenma Kozume

Did it because Kuroo pestered him enough about it. He sighed as he kabedon-ed you and he looked so done you thought he was leaning on the wall because he was about to faint. You didn’t listen to his claims of being fine so he ends up dragged to the clinic. Kuroo was passing by the clinic and you ran up to him telling him how Kenma is sick. When you left, Kuroo is cackling, unaware that he’s about to be murdered.

Hinata Shoyo

Too excited, jumped at you, ended up doing the two arms and two legs kabedon. He screamed in embarrassment. “GWAAHH!” You screamed in fear. “HWAAAAH?!” Tsukishima’s busy wheezing on the floor. Kageyama, supposedly to the rescue, run straight to you guys to pry Hinata off but only succeeded in scaring you even further. You bolted, now traumatized of the volleyball gym.

Kageyama Tobio

Unwisely followed his team’s advice so now he has you trapped against the wall as you wonder if this will be your last moments before you die in the hands of an intimidating, stuttering volleyball team player. Hinata tried to pull him out of it (seeing you’re also about to bail) by serving a ball to the back to his head. Kageyama bolts off after Hinata. You wonder what happened.

Nishinoya Yuu

Did it confidently, but was too awestruck by your face to speak. Realizes how close he is to your face…and your breasts. Definitely flicked his eyes down before staring determinedly in your eyes. His hand, sweaty from nerves, slips and he’s about to fall into the valley of your breast (his brain doing the slow motion, frame by frame) but your hand is quicker and you slap him. Wore the handprint on his face as a badge of honor.

Tsukishima Kei

Did it in his typical tsundere fashion (with a matching “Tch”) that it scared you. Before he can even speak, you were bowing apologetically offering his class notes back with a matching “I promise never to borrow your notes ever again.” Took the notebook to play it cool even if he was dying inside. Yamaguchi had to eat his fist to not laugh out loud. “Shut it, Yamaguchi!” “Sorry, Tsukki!”

Oikawa Tooru

Did it so suavely and smooth, you were actually impressed. Matched it by leaning on his elbow as he runs his fingers through his hair. Your eyes locked on the mosquito landing on his cheek. A loud slap. Cue Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, and Hanamaki’s laughter and wheezing heard from around the corner. You stand there frozen about to apologize. But the four just pats you on the back, “Great slap!” “Good one!” Oikawa whines.

Iwaizumu Hajime

Did it because…shoujo manga tropes work, right? (No, Hajime.) You stare at him, feeling slightly intimidated but you stand your ground. He stares back. …He didn’t think he’d make it this far, he didn’t actually think or rehearse what he wanted to say. After an awkward five full minutes of just staring at each other, he puts his arm down. You nod at each other and both walk away. Was there a bond formed? No one knows.

Kyoutani Kentarou

Did it for the same misguided reasons as Iwaizumi. He was definitely growling when he did it. You were super intimidated but kept a brave face on. Remembering his “Mad Dog” reputation, you shouted in alarm, “Heel!” It worked. Kyoutani immediately drops his arm and stopped growling. Oikawa’s now asking you for tips. Iwaizumi nods approvingly. Yahaba is amazed. Kyoutani facepalms when he remembers what happened.

Terushima Yuuji

So used to the art of kabedon, that he can do it effortlessly and smoothly. Unfortunately for him, you’re also used to his antics and playboy reputation. Before he can even lean in, your palm was already on its way to uppercut his face away from you. You walk away and he just sighs longingly, looking at your form. Damn, you look good when you walk away.

The Winner: Ushijima Wakatoshi

Huge, hulking man towering over you as he traps you against the wall. You stutter out asking what he wants. He replies, “I wanted to confess my interest in you and have been informed this is the proper way to do it. Would you like to go out with me?” Of course you say yes. Of course you should tell him that’s not the proper way to do it. Tendou is 2000 Yen richer after that day.

Bonus Winner: Kita Shinsuke

Asks you to meet him in an isolated location after school. Confesses to you like a proper guy, politely asking if you’d be interested in trying out dates with him. Of course you say yes. Of course you schedule your first date and he promised to walk you home that day. Aran, being the supportive wingman, was watching around the corner and told the twins afterwards. The two idiots went, “Ooooohhhh.”

Bonus Winner: Bokuto Koutarou

Forgot he was supposed to kabedon you. Came running at you in full speed, you fucking bolted off your seat in fear. Ended up in a chase around the school building, but you can’t match his stamina. When you stop and wheeze, he stopped right in front of you.“I LIKE YOU. PLEASE GO OUT WITH ME!” You stared at him for a full minute, you’re brain trying to process as you gasp for air. You say yes when your lungs agree with you again.

Drippin 💦

u kiss isagi in the parking lot and now yall have to stay in the car for 20 mins till his dick goes down

miya atsumu x reader, 4.3k

A tale of Atsumu's descent into madness when he realises you're hot.

a/n: hello ! is this a repost because of tags and my mistakes? yes T_T anyway — this is still dedicated to @augustinewrites because she is a smart, educated queen and im very proud of her. like i said before, i sacrificed so much to write this because putting myself into the mind of a libra man…. yikes. i felt insane at one point. but i hope you enjoy! <3

Atsumu is sitting in your room half drunk, half sober. The room is still spinning, and he’s not sure whether he wants to projectile vomit on your carpeted floor or pass out from exhaustion.

“Tsumu!” you say, pushing your phone against his face. “Do you think I look hot in this?”

“No.” he answers without thinking. You pout aggressively, plopping down onto the couch beside him. He doesn’t deserve to be harassed about some scandalous picture of yours right now for two reasons:

One, it’s like half past one in the morning and that’s the time of night when he should be tucked into bed, snoring to his heart’s content.

Two, because it’s you and he’d rather die than call you hot to your face.

“You didn’t even look!” you wave your phone, and Atsumu turns his face to the side hoping you will simply disappear if he pretends you’re not there.

It doesn’t work. All it does is give you the opportunity to poke at his sides and pester him even more. He closes his eyes, “Why do you need my opinion? You literally do the same peace sign in each photo you take. And according to you, you always look good.”

“I do,” you reply, relentlessly poking at his shoulder, “but I need an expert’s opinion.”

Well. Atsumu would know something about looking good.

He sighs loudly, turning to face you once again. Prior experience says it’s better to give in now, because he was going to give up later anyway. “Alright, show me.”

You move to rest your cheek on his shoulder and hand him your phone.

Atsumu rests his head on a pillow behind him and squints at the screen, trying to see the picture better. When he does, the shock of what he’s seeing causes his fingers to go slack and the phone smacks him in the face.

“Idiot.” you laugh, reaching out to pat his nose. It doesn’t soothe the humiliation he feels nor does it alleviate the sudden racing of his heart. What the fuck?

“So? Do you think I look hot in it?” you ask again.

Atsumu swallows, as he looks at it again. It’s a photo of you at the gym, hair tied back neatly. It’s a simple photo really. You’re wearing simple black leggings and a sports bra he’s seen you wear before of all things.

And yet, the universe still feels unbalanced.

With horror, it dawns on him that it’s because you do look good in the photo.

Okay, it’s not like he thought you were ugly or plain looking before, but you looked good, in a cute kind of way usually. Not like, good good. Not, uh, hot.

When the hell did you start looking hot?

You grab the phone back, analyzing the picture again. “You’re speechless. That means I look amazing. I’m going to share it with the others so they can either sleep well tonight or wake up tomorrow to a good start.”

Atsumu lightly smacks your shoulder, because he was not speechless. “Shut up, I was just shocked. Is that supposed to be a thirst trap?”

You sniff. “I don’t do thirst traps like you.”

“My fans love them,” Atsumu argues. “Are you saying my thousands of followers are wrong? Are you saying they have bad taste?”

You copy him, and he simply shoves you to the other side of the couch, throwing him a look of betrayal. “You don’t look hot in the photo,” he says, “you didn’t even get the right angle.”

You frown, looking like that one very sad emoji, and it tugs at his heart. Ugh. He backtracks, “I mean, that angle is still fine! It’s about the vibe, okay? And you do look good. It’s a nice picture, Y/N.”

“But I want to look hot.” you lament.

Atsumu looks you dead in the eye, and smiles, like a liar, “Take better pictures next time then.”

You stand up, picking up the cushions on the floor. “I’m going to get ready for bed. Feel free to leave soon, because I won’t be here to entertain you any longer.” you announce, still frowning, and Atsumu pulls you back until the force of it has you sitting back down.

“Should I teach you how to look hot?” He asks, teasingly poking at your cheeks. “You should have asked me from the very start.”

You grumble, but let him give you a few pointers. Although at the end, you complain, “That only works because you’re a guy!”

“Try it first.” he says, pushing you to stand up again. You say a lot of things, but you listen well in the end.

When you disappear into the bathroom, he decides to leave and head back to his own dorm a few floors down, calling out a goodbye. When he finally gets settled into his own bed, he plays ten levels to candy crush to dissociate himself from the possibility of gaining further realizations.

Just as he’s about to complete his last level, he gets a notification from the Inarizaki group chat.

Suna: Holy shit, is that Y/N?

It’s a screenshot from Instagram of the selfie you showed him, with the caption, sweet dreams [kissy face].

He looks at it for a good five minutes, feeling unspeakable things, before saving it onto his own camera roll.

.

.

.

Sleeping it off did not help. Atsumu decides he needs to be lobotomized.

Ever since you had shown him that gym selfie, he couldn’t stop seeing it.

(The idea that you were hot, not the selfie, he wants to emphasize. Although, he was also seeing your picture all the time, because well… it was saved onto his phone, so every time he took his own pictures, he would see it. And well… if you look at something enough times, it becomes imprinted in your eyeballs, and you see it even when you close your eyes. Or something like that. Don’t judge him.)

You meet him in a cafe nearby for breakfast and greet him a sleepy good morning, and Atsumu’s brain immediately goes, hot.

You sigh in frustration at the library while you’re trying to study for an exam. Atsumu asks if you want to take a break, but you get this fiery dead set look in your eyes and say, no let’s keep going. Also hot.

You’re eating at a korean barbeque place for dinner and take the grilling tongs from him when he gets smoke in his eyes to flip the meat for him. Really, really hot. It’s alarming because it’s not the first time you’ve done that for him, but it is the first time Atsumu’s found it hot.

Once is a farce, twice is a coincidence, thrice is a pattern, and more than that? It’s a fact.

Atsumu finds you really hot. Cue [throwing up emoji].

But that’s not even the worst thing about it. Atsumu’s clearly not the only one.

He brings it up to Osamu first, wanting the company of someone who has been friends with you for the same amount of time to back him up on the ‘you are not hot’ agenda (fuck off, he can’t think of a clever name right now). He rocks up to his twin who’s on his way to the next class.

He offers him an onigiri he bought from the 7/11 down the street, and casually says, “Did you see Y/N’s picture in the group chat?”

“Huh?” he asks, a little absent-mindedly. Osamu doesn’t even take the onigiri he was being offered. “Y/N’s picture?”

“Yeah, did you see it?”

“The one Suna sent into the groupchat?” Osamu asks. “Yeah I saw, what about it?”

There’s no way to ask the question easily, but to just be blunt about it. Atsumu blurts out, “Do you think she looks hot in it?”

Osamu looks at him for the first time, just a quick little side eye, before he continues walking, “Is this another one of your weird competitions? If so, tell me now so I can mute my phone before you guys start blowing up my phone with messages.”

Atsumu is offended and tells him, “I cannot believe you think that I would participate in such a, such a—” he couldn’t say the word.

“Childish game?” Osamu smirks. “This is why you need to read more books by the way; your vocabulary is failing. Also, you guys literally sent a poll into the main Inarizaki group chat the other day asking who had the best outfit of the day. Even Kita-san saw it.”

Atsumu huffs, “I can’t believe he voted for Y/N.”

Osamu stops as he reaches the front door of his next class, leaning against the wall to properly look at his twin. Osamu smiles, “She did look good. Y/N’s getting prettier these days.”

“Pretty isn’t hot.”

“Hot is subjective.” Osamu says solemnly, “But to answer your question, yeah, she did look hot. Why?”

Atsumu smacks him, “You’re supposed to say she doesn’t look hot!”

Osamu hits him back, “You want me to lie? I’m only saying what anyone with eyes can see.”

“You’re biased. This is because you guys are close.” Atsumu reasons.

“Actually,” Osamu corrects, because he hates Atsumu with all his guts, “Since we’re close I’m more inclined to say she doesn’t look hot. But it doesn’t bother me, because it’s just another fact of life, you know?”

No, Atsumu doesn’t know. Also, “What the hell do you mean anyone with eyes can see? I just found out yesterday—”

“Oh,”, Osamu realises, “Is that why you’re acting like this? Because you finally found her hot? You’re literally the last one.”

The situation just keeps getting worse. What do you mean Atsumu is late to the discovery? What do you mean people have been looking at you like a hot piece of ass all this time? It simply can’t be true. Atsumu’s powers of observation was like, Avenger-level.

But when he asks Suna, the guy doesn’t even think anything of the question and answers, “Of course she’s hot. This is old news.”

Atsumu feels like he’s just been shot in the foot.

And when he goes to ask Aran, he finds that he doesn’t even need to ask at all. Because when he finds him, he’s sitting across from you in the library taking a break while watching you write notes. He’s drinking water, but his eyes are focused on you and all Atsumu can see is appreciation in it.

He feels like he’s been shot again. This time in the back. Which is kind of dramatic, he knows, but how else is he supposed to express the feeling burning in his body. Everyone has betrayed him.

How could nobody tell him? More importantly, how did he not know? He feels woozy.

He goes to make ramen for himself. Comforts himself by looking at his own selfies. He’s mid-slurp when he’s scrolling through the gallery and it brings him back to the cursed picture.

The noodles go down the wrong way, and he manages to close his phone just in time. Just so on the off chance he dies because of your selfie, his dignity will remain intact. The headlines will say, Legend taken too soon.

Unfortunately, he survives the ordeal and will now have to deal with the fact that you’re hot for the rest of his life.

.

.

.

It is now day fifty post ‘Y/N is hot’ realization and maybe there’s still hope for him.

He’s alive. Adapting. On some days, he could even say he’s thriving.

First things first, he deleted your picture from his phone. Second of all—

Well, he hasn’t found a number two yet. It’s alright. He’s always number one for a reason. He doesn’t need a number two. He’s not making any fucking sense.

But here’s something that makes sense: in order to get used to you being hot now, he’s decided that he should just look at you more. The more he looks, the more his eyes get used to the sight, you know?

A pretty sound theory, if you ask him. Except, everyone else keeps catching on and now Suna has enough ammunition to use against him for at least a year.

Like, the last time the Inarizaki group met up and had dinner together, he had become hypnotized by how soft your lips looked and completely ignored everyone else’s conversations. You were too busy complaining about one of your classes to notice.

Or that one time you went to his dorm for a movie night, and he realised how good you smelled as he sat next to you on his bed, and you were too preoccupied by the actual movie to see him subtly leaning closer and closer.

Or even that one time it was his birthday and you had baked him a cake (Osamu got a store bought one heh), and he forgot all about blowing the candles when he was too distracted watching you sing happy birthday to him.

All Atsumu has to say is that, thank god you’re an idiot.

He posts a couple of hot selfies to his instagram that day for an ego boost and calls it a day.

He chuckles to himself. He’s healing.

.

.

.

Atsumu’s feeling more at peace these days.

He’s moved on to the next step of his self-healing process which is… revenge.

Quite frankly, it’s not right that he’s paying this much attention to you, while you just happily skip through life as if everything’s okay. It’s kinda fucked up, if you ask him. You’re out here thinking about silly things like what you should have for lunch (curry, obviously), when you should be out here thinking about him.

So now you’ve forced him to take matters into his own hands and right this wrong. Seeking justice for innocent victims such as himself, if you will.

He spots you from across the room, giggling at something on your phone. It better be his newly posted selfie you’re giggling over. If not, it’s a declaration of war; it took him like, two hours to get the right angle and lighting.

“Hey,” he says, sitting down next to you. Very cool. “What are you up to?”

You hum happily next to him, “Talking to my friend. Kenji sent me a funny meme.”

Earth-shattering. Atsumu almost regrets choosing to take a drink of water then because he almost spits it out. “You’re texting Kenji?”

You smile, “Yep.”

“But he’s your ex!” Atsumu doesn’t understand.

“Yeah, but he’s also my friend.” You explain, unbothered. “I’m friends with a lot of my exes actually.”

“What?” Atsumu is dumbfounded. He’s here suffering because of you, while you’re happily reconnecting with trash?

This is one of the most insane things he’s heard all year. You beckon him closer and show him a group photo of you and at least three of your exes or friends or whatever the fuck they are, with arms slung around each other.

Anyway. “Cute.” Atsumu comments, “do you guys also get together and trade dating stories?”

You narrow your eyes. “Okay, you’re one to talk when your friends from the team are so…”

“So what?” he challenges. Slutty, his own mind supplies, but it would be funny to hear you say it.

“Listen,” you say as you put your phone down and look at him intently. “I’m just saying, my friends are nice; like sheep. Your friends, who I’ve known since high school and hang out with constantly, are like lions. They could eat me.”

Atsumu stares at your cute little face and thinks, I could eat you. “Is that your rationale for why you’re friends with all of your exes? Aren’t you afraid it'll get weird because you know, you’ve done stuff with them?”

Atsumu doesn’t know why he can’t let it go. Or why he says that, because now he’s just thinking of you doing those kinds of things with your exes. It’s not jealousy that’s bubbling up in his chest. Definitely not.

“It’s not weird,” you defend, “it actually makes it easier when I see them at parties.”

Atsumu narrows his eyes, “Makes it easier to do what?”

You blush, much to his discontent. “Don’t ask me what, Tsumu! I don’t ask you what you do every time you disappear to the bathroom before games and come out destressed.”

“What are you insinuating?” he asks, jabbing at your side. You yelp, trying to move away, “I literally go there to play candy crush in peace where nobody can bother me.”

“Yeah right.” you go to kick him at the same time he leans down and hit him straight in the face.

Atsumu is so stunned by it, he freezes, hands clutching at his nose. You look at him horrified, starting to panic, “Oh my god, did I break it? Is it bleeding? Oh fuck I’m sorry! Tsumu say something! Are you mad at me? Tsumuuu—”

Atsumu stands up, doesn’t say anything because he doesn’t have it in him and goes to the bathroom to inspect his nose. He should have gotten his nose insured or something, because dammit it’s one of his best features. And now, it might be gone forever.

He’s pretty horrified to find that his nose is okay. In fact, it looks more perfect than ever. But if he didn’t lose his nose, then why the hell does he still feel like he’s lost something.

.

.

.

Atsumu is spiralling, but only on the inside. He watched Frozen for the first time the other day and now he keeps repeating conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them show out loud as a coping mechanism. He’s grateful that it’s nearly Christmas time so he has an excuse every time somebody looks at him weird.

But the discovery that he likes you makes him pissy.

Not because he doesn’t want to like you like that. It’s a comforting realization actually. He was having a crisis about his sexuality and thought that maybe he was fruity. His homophobic grandfather was probably rolling around in his grave at the mere idea of it.

But alas, he is as straight as a pencil. And how he came to that conclusion you ask? You wore a top that showed a bit of cleavage one day and he immediately had to run to the bathroom and take three deep breaths.

He thought he had long forgone his puberty years but you were just a different breed. He was so disappointed in himself.

The reason he’s pissy is because he can’t believe he missed all the signs pointing towards his feelings for you. How long has he even liked you? When he looks back, all he sees is a long chain of happy memories, each one linked together with fondness and affection.

Maybe all he needs to do is accept the fact that you’re attractive, and attractive people like you, well, they never stay single for long.

Despite him not realizing his own feelings, his brain has been signalling this fact to him, encouraging him to get a move on, before some other hot guy swoops in. Or worse, one of your exes swoops in.

(Cough, Kenji, cough.)

He needs to secure your ass. The longer he waits, the more chances he gives other men. That’s why he’s so mad actually, while he was out here thinking about how toned Kita-san’s body had gotten recently, other men were ogling his woman. Other men are making you laugh, taking care of you.

Sue Atsumu’s competitive ass, but he doesn’t want to be second to anyone in your heart. He’s number one or nothing.

So he decided to confess immediately, because he’s already wasted enough time.

The problem is, the moment he decides this is the same moment you decide that you want him to die of annoyance first. And then suddenly, it doesn’t feel so urgent for Atsumu to confess his feelings.

It’s important to teach you a lesson first.

It culminates at Inarizaki’s Christmas dinner get together, held at Osamu’s studio which actually has a big enough kitchen to feed everyone. You try his patience on today of all days; teasing him about his roots that have grown out too long, poking at his shoulder before running away, throwing peanuts at him every so often.

Atsumu sees who he’s sitting next to at the table, and already knows that it’s only downhill from there. He can’t even get a cup of coke without you pretending to pour him some before taking it away.

And then, there was the whole stressful debate on mint chocolate ice cream over the table while he was trying to enjoy his meal. You didn’t even understand the question, too fixated on your dislike of anything mint flavoured, raging with a fork in your hand as you screamed at Suna over the table. (How did he ever fall for someone so insane?)

Atsumu loves mint chocolate but as soon as you say you wouldn’t date anyone who likes mint chocolate, his mind is made. Mint chocolate be damned because it could never give him the same happiness that being with you would. Besides, no other person is allowed to feed you ice cream, if it's not him alright? Case fucking closed.

After that whole thing, Osamu pulls his chair away as he goes to sit down and he falls backwards, like an idiot.

There’s so many other misfortunate things that happen, and on days like this, when shit keeps happening, you begin to resign yourself to the fact that anything may as well happen.

Which is the moment Atsumu lets his guard down.

He doesn’t know what the fuck Suna put in the juice, but it doesn’t matter. Once the music started playing, what always happens, happened. Atsumu loses his mind.

His body literally moves on its own. One minute he’s talking to Kita vibing, and the next he’s doing the jerk while Osamu and Suna hype him up and take a video. (He’ll regret it in the morning, but not now).

The worst part of it all? He’s blowing you kisses every five seconds. It doesn’t register in his mind that it might look weird, because he’s too busy having fun and trying to keep you quiet, nothing more.

And then later, he finds himself on the floor, out of breath after he puts on the performance of a lifetime: as Elsa from Frozen.

Everyone else is kind of concerned. Well, some of them. He thinks he hears Kita asking “Is Elsa okay?”

No, Kita-san, he wants to say, Elsa is going through it right now.

He can feel eyes on him, so he turns his head, and sure enough you’re sitting there watching him with a fond smile on your face.

Elsa is completely fucked.

.

.

.

A few hours later, when Atsumu’s soul has returned back to his body and shame from earlier has sunk in, he decides it’s time to go home. He is not staying here and allowing Samu to bully him into cleaning the mess when he has better things to do.

He walks you to your dorm, like the gentleman he is, and goes to leave when you suddenly invite him in. Not a single cell in his body wants to say no so he happily goes inside and makes himself comfortable on the couch.

“You looked like you had a good time today.” you tease, sitting beside him.

He feels his cheeks heat up, pushing away every memory of tonight before it can occupy too much space in his brain.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t remember all the kisses you sent me?”

“Shut up!” he groans before assaulting you with tickles to shut you up.

You squeal in delight, pushing his hands away as he climbs on top of you and laughs, sounding deranged. In a way, he’s got you right where he wants you.

“Stop!” After a few more digs as revenge for driving him crazy, he finally decides to take pity on you and stops, letting you catch your breath.

“You drive me crazy, Y/N.” he says, sounding sappy as he closes his eyes and leans his head back, missing how you turn to face him.

“If it helps, you drive me crazy too.”

It’s music to Atsumu’s ears.

He opens his eyes and turns to face you too. “I do?”

You roll your eyes, which would be irritating if you weren’t so pretty. “All the time. You’re so annoying, always teasing me that I thought I was gonna lose my mind. I was like, why does this stupid boy always target me? Does he not realize how much I like him—”

Now it was Atsumu’s turn to roll his eyes but it was getting harder and harder to fight the smile bursting onto his face, “Come on, you’ve always been the annoying one—”

“Actually, you start it most of the time,” you snort, cutting him off. “But honestly Tsumu, if you wanted my attention there’s better ways of getting it.”

Atsumu doesn’t know whether to continue his prior assault or kiss you.

Instead, he decides to take the challenge in your last words. “Is that so?” he says, breathy, his hands starting to roam all over your body, starting with the curve of your hips, until it rests on your waist. “Are you going to show me?”

You whimper and he laughs, feeling both adoration and vindication in his chest. You’re flushing red in embarrassment, an emotion he didn’t even think you were capable of feeling. “You’re so infuriating—”

Atsumu cups your cheek, “You’re so hot when you’re trying to be angry at me,” and then kisses you so eagerly that neither of you have any brain cells left to say anything afterwards.

Well, you do say one more thing. “So you did think I looked hot in that selfie—”

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

hockey au sero, who looks so much beefier with all that padding–

he wipes his broken nose on the back of his glove and sheepishly tells you that, yes, he’ll wear his helmet during practice from now on– he’ll wear his helmet ALL of the time

he’s always drinking mass gainers and protein drinks, begging you to go out to dinner with him after practice even though he’s all sweaty and tired, because he’s trying to keep his weight up during the season