HAIKYUU BOYS + FAVORITE SPOTS TO KISS

HAIKYUU BOYS + FAVORITE SPOTS TO KISS

feat. bokuto kōtarō, oikawa tōru, iwaizumi hajime, miya atsumu, kuroo tetsurō, kageyama tobio

warnings. a lil bit suggestive <3 a lot suggestive in iwa's <3 don't mind me <3

BOKUTO loves to kiss the tip of your nose. it's quick—all soft laughter and shared breaths and the pads of his thumbs catching the balls of your cheeks. you can see his eyes flutter over your face, feel the heaviness of his gaze—and suddenly, his lips meet the top of your head, and side of your cheek, and then, finally, your nose. he mutters soft praises into your skin—a smile stretching across scorching flesh—and you join him in bubbling laughter before pulling him in to return the favor.

OIKAWA kisses your shoulder. it's a swirl in the dead of night and the spark of newborn mornings, lips meeting the planes of your skin as sheets pool at your hips. his arm snakes around your waist and you slide across the mattress—drinking in floral shampoos and the warmth of adjoining limbs. he starts just below your neck, and soft breaths spill across your back, each movement leaving goosebumps to swarm in his wake. he mumbles gentle words and soft whispers, the vibrato of his voice nearly swallowing you whole.

IWAIZUMI kisses your collar. it's for the reaction more than anything else—an obsession with the way your breath hilts and neck turns and the sputter of goosebumps that follow the brush of his teeth against your skin. his hand steadies your jaw, pressing calloused fingers into the warmth of your cheeks as the smile against your throat sparks flames beneath your skin. he leaves bubbling bruises in a mosaic of purples and blues, and when he pulls away, meeting your wide eyes and stunted breaths, his mind echos with a yearning for more.

ATSUMU kisses your palms. he fiddles with your fingers—hands dancing along the divots of your knuckles and the arches of your wrists—before he guides you towards his lips, leaving soft breaths to slip through your fingertips. he presses a kiss to your palm and every nerve in your body seems to shiver at the motion, pulling you further towards the allure of the stars that seem to dot his breath. it's a casual motion—one slipped into quiet conversation and comfortable silence—but a welcomed one nevertheless.

KUROO kisses your jaw. it's the freedom of it all—the grasp he has upon your skin and the idea of roaming any plane of flesh or curve of muscle he would like. your hands are in his hair and his fingers leave crescent marks upon your hips, his breath swallowing every pore marking his path. he kisses the arch of your neck and revels in the way you shiver—swallows the heat of sputtering breaths and burning skin. and when you pull away with flushed cheeks and wide eyes, he laughs, tugging you closer once again.

KAGEYAMA kisses your lips. it's simple, really—long fingers wrapped around the base of your neck and shared breaths twirling between staggered throats. he tugs at your bottom lip and nudges at your waist and, when the space between you grows to nothing more than tiny patches of exposed skin, you're consumed by the vibrato of empty lungs. he pulls away—swollen lips and warm cheeks on full display—and you laugh, leaving a smile to stretch across his features.

reblogs/interaction is always appreciated ❀

— HQ BOYS + SUBTLE AFFECTION

feat. iwaizumi hajime, kuroo tetsurō, bokuto kōtarō, miya atsumu, miya osamu, sakusa kiyoomi, matsukawa issei, sawamura daichi

note. hi <3 idk how i feel abt these but here they are <33 love u all <33

IWAIZUMI loves you through touches that can almost feel forbidden. in the dim lights of a bar, mattsun’s voice floating through the air and makki’s laughter quick to follow it, iwaizumi’s hands trace up your spine. his thumbs dip beneath the hem of your shirt, just to feel a bit of your skin. no one else could see it, no one else would dare look close enough, but he’s letting his fingers slide over your skin like you’re made of silken waters and his hands are only meant to know the tide. it’s secret, only for you, and only from him.

KUROO loves you through the bow of your head, the gentle, silent knowledge that when he places a hand on your cheek in just the right way, he’s going to kiss the crown of your head. big hands on sweet, warm cheeks, the chill of the outdoors leaking from his flesh into yours. it’s the way you both just know, the way your eyes flutter shut and the way he smiles into your hair. it’s the routine, and the sweet wisdom that comes with it.

BOKUTO loves you through the hum of old songs. your first date, your first kiss, that one night where you both dissolved into laughter before you could even try to slow dance in the kitchen. he has every song committed to memory, letting the notes slip out in mindless harmony with whatever you’re both doing. and slowly, the humming may turn to a muttering of the lyrics, but it’s quiet in a way that bokuto isn’t, shy in a way you wouldn’t expect from him.

ATSUMU loves you through bitten-back smiles and the sound of half-snorted laughter. it’s the way he holds back the prick of his lips when you flick his forehead and tell him please, babe, just think for once. it’s in the way he pulls you back into him when you roll your eyes at his antics, the bite of his cheek to hide the smile that pokes into it. it’s lilted affection, laughter and teasing and feigned offense at rolled eyes—all in the name of kissing you for just a moment longer.

OSAMU loves you through the warmth of a stove. he knows what you like without even asking. so it’s the spiced sauté of vegetables, the kind you love and spread warmth through your torso on especially cold nights—the kind of spices that creep from your tongue and into your nose, just the right amount of heat, all because he knows it’s you. and when you hum, the melt of flavor on your tongue, he smiles, a teasing good to know you like it following the prick of his lips.

SAKUSA loves you through whispers. he’ll dip his head to your ear as he passes, a quiet stretch of adoration slipping over his tongue and working past your ears. at whatever formal function may beckon you, he’ll meet you with a duck of his head, bending down until you hear the way a soft chuckle rumbles through his chest and rings in the air—the mention of your name and suggestion of let’s get out of here falling past his lips.

MATSUKAWA loves you through how he listens. it’s the tilt of his head, his tongue poking out to pull his lip between his teeth, the narrowing of his eyes until you lean forward, swatting his chest with the back of your hand. it’s then that he laughs, the crinkle in the corners of his eyes following the curve of his lips, and he leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, fingers laced together, and listens. and god, he swears he could do just that for hours.

DAICHI loves you through the tuck of your hair behind your ear. he’s delicate with it, a soft twirl of the strands between his fingers, and then he’s brushing it out your face—knuckles gliding across the apples of your cheeks, the vibrato of hushed whispers or ardor starting in his chest and fanning across your lips.

You are not as innocent as you look

Warning/content: nipple piercing (f), fem!reader, she/her pronouns used, praise kink and body worship

A/n: this is so bad im so sorry, i just wanted to throw this idea out cause i love it, but i can't write smut like, at all, so yeah, whatever

Sakusa, Osamu, Iwaizumi, Suna, Atsumu;

You and your boyfriend have been together for nearly a year, but you have never been this intimate yet,at least not until today where a heated make out session led to him being on top of you shirtless and you under him, braless.

Since you always wanted to take it slow with the intimacy, he alwas thought that you were an innocent pretty little thing, but now that he sees the nipple piercing on your left breast, he is questioning all his ideas of you.

He never thought he would be seeing something like this, you've fooled him for good; and now that he sees the truth before his eyes ー that you're a filthy pervert who never told him about your piercing just so you could have this moment, could act all shy and embaressed and hot under his flaring gaze ー he doesn't hold back.

His dick twitches hard at the sight, his red and angry tip leaking in his pants as he worships your body.

"That's so fucking hot, baby" he whispers, touching your pierced nipple gently, playing with the metal between his fingers.

He rubs your hardened bud with his thumb, "When did you get this?"

"Around a year ago, few months before we got together." you pant, meeting his lustful eyes.

He smirks and leans down to kiss your neck, leaving purple hickeys to mark you as his.

"So you planned this all along huh? and here i thought you were such an innocent girl."

It doesn't take him long before latching onto your pierced nipple, nibbling it between his teeth gently, making you moan at the feeling.

"God, you're so perfect." he says as he opens your legs to peck on your inner thigh.

He teases you until you beg him to hurry because you can't take it anymore, and that's when he eats you out like a starved man. No ー he doesn't "eat you out", he makes out with your pussy for his own pleasure and he is not stopping until he is satisfied.

He won't take this further though, because he knows that his pretty baby is not ready yet, so he will wait as much as she needs.

But god is he horny. He can't get enough of your tear stained face and that pierced nipple, it makes him incredibly hard, but all he can do is grind onto your thigh in hopes of relieving some of his stress.

You may not be ready to have sex yet, but he looks so desperate, so needy that you want to help him out somehow.

"Baby, let me help you out, yeah?"

It doesn't take him much to cum with your mouth stuffed full of his cock

Reblogs are really appreciated!

mdni - characters are 18+, handjob, semi-public sex, cum eating, pet name angel

-

Because one person wanted a part two <3 HAHAHAHA @sanzusmile

pt.1

Since that fateful morning you have been nothing but a burning ball of embarrassment. The second a head full of white, spiked hair came into view, your stomach would cramp up and have you nearly chucking up your breakfast.

Likewise with that one dark haired boy with purple beneath his eyes and a tired smile. You could tell he was avoiding your gaze, and the rare moments your lines of sight did cross paths, both of you had skin hot enough to fry an egg. Sometime you wish you could reach into your head and physically erase memories...if only it were that easy, right?

But no, you had to face them, train with them, study with them. All while trying to bottle up the elephant in the room and lock it out. Either it was working or your classmates were too pitiful of your awkwardness to make a comment, but nobody brought it up, and Toge (God bless him) didn't spill the beans to anyone. Only time could heal this one.

Or could it?

Maybe...just maybe you should finish the job you started. Wouldn't that make the most sense? It would burry the hatchet between at least you and Yuta, confirm some feelings that still seemed up in the air, and maybe even evolve into something more!

Stop - you're getting ahead of yourself. These hypothetical situations had a low probability of working and were definitely not the solution. Though, maybe you were being pessimistic? It's better to say you made an effort rather than wallow in all your humiliation and get nauseous every time you looked at Okkotsu.

Now it was about finding the right time to pursue him again. Surely you wouldn't opt for the early morning route, because chancing putting Inumaki through that horror again was inhumane. Maybe a secret study session? A movie date and pick the seats furthest away from everyone? So many options!

However, you didn't even need to choose, because the perfect opportunity fell right into your Yuta hungry paws. Lucky you!

Every month Panda liked to host a movie night and get everyone together to play board games, eat ridiculous amounts of junk food, and either grasp onto each other full of fear or laugh until your stomachs hurt. Tonight you'd be going to bed sending glances over your shoulder and double checking under your bed.

Everyone curled up onto the couch, lost in throw pillows and fuzzy blankets, sour candy and popcorn stuck in everyone's teeth and anticipating the next jump scare. The night started off a little tense, seeing as you and Yuta were up in arms and Toge was constantly shooting anxious glimpses your way. But after an intense game of Uno, things seemed to ease up and by the time the movie started to roll, both you and Yuta were clutching onto each other to cope through the horrors.

On the TV, a family calmly ate dinner, mundanely talking about their day, until....

Someone appeared outside their window!

Yuta gasped and hid into your shoulder, throwing his arms over your torso and trembling.

"Okkotsu! Nothing even happened yet! They're just standing there."

With terror in his eyes, he looked up at you with a pout, "I know but it's so creepy!"

Maki groaned, "You're all such babies."

Next it was your turn to scream and hide behind Yuta. The family had finished eating, and the mom stayed behind to clean up, only the stalker had made their way inside and was eerily standing right behind her!

Yuta giggled, "C'mon, that was so predictable!"

"Mustard leaf," agreed Inumaki.

You slowly emerged from your safe spot and told both of your classmates to respectfully suck it.

A few more jump scares and gruesome murder scenes had you in Okkotsu's lap and him tightly holding you against his chest. It seemed like every time your eyes reattached on the screen, you ended up back against Yuta in a ball. When the end credits were rolling, you were ready to jump for joy.

"That was the worst! Where did you even find that movie Panda?" You complained.

"It was on Netflix, I randomly picked it."

You and Maki both agreed that next time, someone else would pick the horror movie.

It was time to start cleaning up: put away all the board games, throw away candy wrappers, and fold up the blankets. But you weren't leaving just yet, not when you and Yuta had been getting along so well that night, you'd be a fool to let this slip through your fingers.

"I think I'm gonna stay up a little longer and watch something nice, I need to cleanse by brain after that." You informed, picking up the remote and scrolling through your options.

Everyone else nodded in understanding and bid you a goodnight, shuffling back to their dorms...all except one.

"I hope you don't mind, but I think I'm going to stay too. You know I already have a hard time sleeping and that didn't help."

You couldn't help the smile that was plastered on your face, "I'd like that." So he curled up next to you and tossed a blanket over your laps.

You decided it was best to turn on Haikyuu!!, it wasn't the best show to wind down to, but it was sure to keep your mind off the horrendous gore scenes still replaying in your mind. Yuta sighed next to you contently and complimented your choice. When was the right time to address the tension?

Maybe it wasn't while he was sipping on his water, but the question was practically crawling from your throat and there wasn't any more fight left in you to keep it contained.

"I'm sorry for running away."

The cursed boy choked on his water.

After coughing and you apologetically patting his back he responded, "Uh...don't mind. I would've done the same." Some nervous laughter followed.

A part of you just wanted to leave it at that, put the whole situation behind you and move the Hell on! Yet...something about Yuta lounging on the couch with his hair a tad more ruffled than usual, and the colors flashing from the TV onto his pretty profile had you itching to slip your hand beneath his sweatpants. It reminded you of why you were so enthralled by Yuta in the first place, why you wanted to please him, make his head toss back in pure bliss and make your hands a sticky mess.

Though your heart was prideful and confident, your voice was not, "Co-could I ask a question..?"

Yuta turned to you worried, "Yeah, of course! What's wrong?"

His innocent nature was chipping away at your ego. No, there was no backing down now.

"Would you mind if..." your mouth was dry, "...if I finished what I started?"

You couldn't look at him directly, but you could feel his mouth falling open and eyes widening. Was it bold to ask? Yeah. Whatever his answer was would make sense. Though...you hoped he would be more open to the idea.

"I-I mean..uhm.."

"You can say no." If you doubted yourself, it might make him feel guilty, like you owed it to him.

"I don't want to say no."

You felt disgusted with how your eyes shot for his lap before it found his features, but you couldn't help yourself.

"But I don't want to sound like some dumb, horny dude if I say yes."

You giggled, "I'd rather you sound like a dumb horny dude than be unsure."

Yuta chewed his lip and searched in your eyes for a few seconds, weighing his options and how this could affect your dynamic. Did it have to change anything though? You both could be great friends who just so happened to spend you alone time different. Besides, there was nothing like an orgasm to wipe your mind clean.

"Would you? Please?" Yuta edged the blanket from his waist.

It was shameful how hungry your eyes got, and how hastily you crawled your hand over to his groin. This was something you both had been waiting on, so it only seemed right to dive in head first.

Your hand slipped under his waist band and your fingers ran over his length over his boxers. With each touch more blood flowed to his length and made him more stiff for you. His small gasps and sighs were all you could hear, completely blocking out the intense volley ball match going down on the TV.

While you waited for his precum to dampen his boxers, you palmed his cock, blown pupils locked onto his pink cheeks and ears, lips slick with his spit from biting and licking at them. It had your thighs squishing together and another set of lips getting wet.

When your finger tips ran over a small wet spot, you did him the kindness of letting his hot cock collide with the cold air. At this he hissed, slapping his hand onto your wrist and digging his nails into your skin. His sensitivity would be something you'd use to your full advantage.

The tip was flushed a cute bubblegum color, an intricate vein popping from the underside, not to mention the length. He wasn't necessarily girthy, but what he lacked in width he made up for in inches, clocking in at about a solid seven and a half. Your tongue was jealous of your palm, but perhaps one day you'd be able to get a taste of him.

"You're so gorgeous Yuta." You hummed, spending a few moments to just admire him as a whole.

He sighed in frustration, "Heh, nghh, thanks..?"

It was cruel to deny him what he deserved any longer. With that you wrapped your fingers around his tip, smearing the pearly beads and pumping it over his length to eliminate some uncomfortable friction. He grunted and swore under his breath, squeaking out an apology for grasping your wrist so hard. If anything it was reassuring, it let you know you were doing just what you wanted to do all this time - make him feel good.

Starting with a sweet pace, you made sure to include all his dick and pay special attention to his tip when you returned to the top after a few pumps. The noises he made were thrumming in your heart and you wished to record them and listen to them like music for hours. This had to be better than any drug on the market or any kind of sake the fanciest restaurant in Japan sold.

Just because you couldn't resist, you let your other hand join in on the fun, working them in a pumping, wringing motion.

"Oh my God..!" Yuta bit down on his lip hard and had his dark eyes lazer focused on your hands at work.

When you felt his cock twitch, you switched up the pattern by letting one hand work at the tip and the other busy itself with the rest. Okkotsu's breathing was gradually becoming more shaky and he found himself gasping for air. How could someone's hands make him feel so good?

Another twitch and a whine of, "Fuck, 'm gonna cum!" Had you grinding your hips into the couch.

You noticed his brows furrow and jaw drop, and before you knew it his seed was spurting from him, coating your hands. You squeezed at his base and continued to milk his tip, in response his thighs shook and his head lolled back against the couch with a beautiful whine.

"Fuck Yuta." You sighed, enjoying the feel of him covering your hands in his cum and pulsing in your palm.

The only way to finish the job was to clean up, so you licked your fingers clean with your eyes locked on Okkotsu's, his brain growing more honey-glazed. A small yelp fell from his lips when you swirled your tongue around his tip to clean up the remnants, and you let the flavor of him spreads across your taste buds before swallowing.

Yuta wiped his brow and took his time regaining his breathing pattern before tucking himself back into his sweats, completely awestruck at your capabilities. How did you seem to know his body better than him?

"Can we do that again sometime?" He asked with half lidded eyes.

Your face closed in on his, but just far enough to deny him a much wanted kiss, "Anytime you want angel."

— HQ BOYS + TAKING CARE OF THEM

feat. iwaizumi hajime, kuroo tetsurō, suna rintarō, miya atsumu, miya osamu, matsukawa issei

note. let me be ur housewife. also don't say anything abt how long osamu's is.... i like him.

IWAIZUMI lets you join him in the shower on nights when he comes home late, when his breath smells a bit like scotch and his smile is lopsided in a way that you both know means midnight. he's all hushed drunken laughter, soap cascading down rippling shoulders as he leans down to press a sweet kiss to your collarbone. he'll whisper that you don't have to do this, the soft mumbling of go to bed crossing his tongue. and yet, you never do. instead, you lean up, shampoo in your hands, and let him hum as your fingers tangle in his hair.

KUROO lets you tie his tie. it's in the mornings, kisses drawn from the rising sun and touches soft enough to meld with the linens that once draped your bodies. he'll stand in front of you, suit, grin, and all, even when you're still dressed in the hanging fabric of your nightgown and your hair is still a tangled mess around your shoulders and face. but, no matter, because you'll reach up, delicate fingers around strong silk, and tie it just for him. and when you do, he'll cup your jaw in his hand just so he can kiss you one more time.

SUNA would never dare ask, but when you find him laying on the couch, face resting down on his arms and shirt riding up just enough so you can see his back, you can't help but let you nails follow the length of his spine. he shifts as though to lean into your touch, closing his eyes and breathing in a breath that almost feels like divinity. and if you stop, should you dare, he guides your hand back to him, ignoring the laughter that bubbles up past your lips and closing his eyes in sweet solace.

ATSUMU lets you dye his hair. or bleach it, rather, and then tone it when he finally lets you convince him. oh and how he's awful, moving and laughing and dodging out of the way of the cold dye even when it's dripping off of your gloved hands. he'll meet your gaze in the mirror, lopsided smirk carved into his cheeks, before putting his hands up in surrender. then, and only then, will he sit still, letting your hands comb through his hair with that stupid grin still on his face.

OSAMU finds you writing down notes for him. if he's cooking, he might change a recipe, speaking aloud as he adds a different spice or substitutes an ingredient, and each time, you'll write it down, scrawling handwriting with a little comment of whether he liked the change or not. other times, he'll come home to notes around the house—little reminders of why you're gone or what you need him to do before you get home. but his most favorite ones, and the ones he keeps locked away in drawers or hidden beneath clothes and old jewelry boxes, are the benign ones. little i loves you's scratched on napkins, drawings left on old gum wrappers from high school, sticky notes covered in old games you used to play to pass the time. he holds them like they're something to keep, an extension of you in the best way possible.

MATSUKAWA comes home to his laundry folded, or half-folded, at least, the rest of it still in the hamper or your hands. he'll roll his eyes, hands already at your waist and fingers dashing along your hips until laughter floats from your chest and into the air. when he tries to help you, you'll swat at his hand, your narrowed eyes drawing out a grin onto his face. so instead, he'll sit, tell you about his day and ramble about the things he misses (your voice, mostly, or your hair, or the scrunch of your nose), and each one will be met with the teasing lilt of tone that he's come to only associate with you.

iwaizumi’s hand hurts.

if he’s honest, he doesn’t remember exactly what happened, it’s not much more than a blur of you—the color of your hair, the sound of your voice, your shaky fingers raising around his arm. he got angry, he wanted to punch the guy, he did punch the guy, and then he was being pulled away from the party and into his own apartment, just a few doors down.

you’d stumbled for his keys, reaching a hand into his back pocket where you knew he kept them, and he’d watched—a little pathetically holding his hand while he waited—and let you unlock the door for him.

and then you’d tugged him inside, told him to sit on his kitchen counter, and went rooting around in his freezer.

and now, his mind is still a little blurry, but you’re standing in front of him and cradling his hand in a bag of frozen peas, and you’re shaking your head at him and mumbling something that sounds an awful lot like a scolding.

and he hates that you look so pretty right now, that, when you’re being drenched in the yellow light of his apartment, when the moonlight can’t even reach you from his blinds, when your brows are creased together and you’re biting at your lip like you’re holding back things that are much worse than what you’ve already been saying (and unfortunately for him, he hasn’t really been listening to those things, so he knows he isn't making it better for himself).

but you look pretty. despite everything, despite the way you sigh when you look at him, despite the fact that you’re his best friend.

“iwa,” you say, tone a little sharp. he snaps back then, gaze finding yours, and he realizes that the way you were biting your lip before wasn’t to stop yourself from saying something worse, but to hold back a smile.

and oh, you’re awful at that.

“are you even listening to me?” you ask, and you sound upset, but then you’re smiling up at him and he isn’t ignorant to the way your fingers twine around his. if he asked, he’s sure you’d say you’re just testing to make sure they don’t hurt. he’s not sure he’d believe you now.

“no,” he replies, “no, i wasn’t.”

you roll your eyes and sigh at him, but you also bow your head towards him until your hair just barely brushes his hand, and he realizes something awful as his fingers curl towards you, as they bend to your will and as he bends to your beck and call—as he wishes to curl his fingers around the curve of your jaw and rise of your cheeks.

he likes you, in the worst, most inconvenient way, he likes you.

and at the time, he hadn’t known why he punched the guy, had only known that the way he was looking at you and the way he kept pushing you to come with him had made iwaizumi angry.

and maybe he should’ve known when you looked so pretty, should’ve known when you smiled at him and he felt the way his own lips tugged upwards in an automatic reply, should’ve known when he texted you first thing when he was out of his classes and should’ve known when he couldn’t be with someone else without thinking of you.

he’s stupid, irredeemably so, but he likes you.

“i don’t know why i try with you,” you say with another little sigh as you bring your head back up, hands still never leaving his.

(he knows it’s for the damn frozen peas, he chooses to think otherwise).

“you know,” you begin, turning his hand in your palm, watching the way bruises bloom over his knuckles. “i could’ve handled it.”

he doesn’t speak, but he raises a brow at you, a little amused smirk pressing creases into his cheeks. you meet his gaze with a little roll of your eyes.

“okay, okay, no. i wouldn’t have handled it. stop looking at me like that.” he laughs at that one, and he doesn’t miss the way you smile at him. “but you didn’t have to do it.”

“and i did it anyway.”

“but you didn’t have to.”

and iwaizumi, irredeemably stupid, irredeemably head over heels for you, knows he didn’t have to punch the guy. he knows well enough that he could’ve just told him to back off, that he’s done it before, that he could’ve dragged you away and thrown some choice words back at him.

so he shrugs, a terrible blush collecting at the tips of his ears that makes him want to press the frozen peas there instead of his throbbing hand, and just looks at you.

“i didn’t like the way he was talking to you. that’s all.”

there’s a little silence that follows his breath, and, for a moment, he’s sure that there’s something you want to say, something on the tip of your tongue that you can’t quite let escape your lips. instead of saying anything though, you look down towards his hand, trace your finger over the knuckles and drag with it the cold water that’s melted onto his hand. you press one of your fingers into the bruises and he winces, hissing a little at the pressure.

“stupid,” you mumble.

“the other guy’s worse than me,” he says, and you laugh again, a weak little thing—hardly more than a rush of breath past your lips.

“i don’t think the other guy is holding peas to his hand right now.”

“good thing i’m not either. that’s what i have you for.” you narrow your eyes at him, leaning forward to swat his arm with the back your hand, but he catches it with his left hand before you ever make contact. “and i’m pretty sure i broke his nose.”

“you definitely did,” you say, a little lighter, a little laughter mixing with the syllables.

and then there’s another bit of silence that chases after your laughter, another moment of your fingers tracing patterns against his skin, of your eyes flitting over his face like you’re looking for something that even he couldn’t find.

he likes you—too much, so much that right now, he can only think about kissing you, can only think about bringing his hand to your jaw and guiding your lips to his. he wants to kiss you as badly as he wants to breathe, wants to kiss you as badly as he wants the throbbing in his hand to stop, wants to kiss you as badly as he wants to listen to your laugh and watch the curve of your smile.

“hey-”

he doesn’t finish the sentence, because next thing he knows you’re leaning up to him, abandoning the frozen peas to instead cradle his face in your hands. they’re cold against his skin, but they’re you and you’re sweet and gentle and suddenly your lips are on his and you’re kissing him for the first time.

and he’s being surrounded by everything that’s you, the smell of your citrus shampoo and your honey perfume, the taste of your mint chapstick on his lips, the feeling of your fingertips across his cheekbones and his along his jaw.

you go to pull away and he raises his left hand to your cheek, pulling you back into him because hell if he’s going to let this end early. he feels the way you laugh into him, feels the pull of your smile against his lips and god he’s going to fall for you.

when you do pull away, when he moves so his forehead is leaned against yours, so he can feel the fanning of your breath against his skin, he hears you whisper.

“you didn’t have to punch him,” you say, and when he goes to protest, you kiss him again, just for a moment to shut him up, “but thank you anyway.”

and then you kiss him for a third time, and iwaizumi decides he’d punch as many guys as needed just to feel this again.

(he doesn’t have to, you’ll kiss him as many times as he allows).

reblogs and interaction are super appreciated ❤︎