Aone Takanobu - Tumblr Posts

shh he's trying to watch a soccer game

Haikyuu!! Headcannon #2

- Osamu Miya, KIYOOMI SAKUSA, Tobio Kageyama, KEI TSUKISHIMA, Wakatoshi Ushijima, Takanobu Aone, Kentarō Kyōtani, Hajime Iwaizumi, Shinsuke Kita

@wake-uptoreality @rukia-uchiha-98 @nerd-of-karasuno

I feel bad for being late! But, here they are! Merry (late) birthday to these two awkward volleydorks! // Geh. I messed up on Aone's hair a bit and Futakachi's little icon-thingy.

semisemi na

aone

ushiwaka

aone

Train Ride | Aone Takanobu/Reader

Characters: Aone Takanobu, Reader, Moniwa Kaname, Futakuchi Kenji

Pairings: Aone Takanobu/Reader

Word Count: 2623

Warnings: Um, I don't think there are any, but do lmk if there are any

Summary: Aone had never been more thankful of the people who avoided him on the trains, especially when they gave him something as amazing as you.

A/N: This was literally meant to be a small idea I had and at some point I just said yeet and, well, here we are. Living our best lives I guess. I don't know, I just love Aone so much, he's such a cutie. I want to hold his hand and sit by him on the train, is that too much to ask??? As always, thank you to @pies-writes-and-more for assuring me I am good at writing. God knows where I'd be without you my love

----

Aone was used to people ignoring- no, avoiding him on the train. It didn’t matter what he did, where he looked, or how soft he tried to seem - it was always the same. He told himself that it was fine, even though it really wasn’t.

It had even gotten to the point that people would purposefully avoid sitting down in the seat where he’d sit; women and men alike would choose to stand even when there were two available seats next to him. Very few people knew about these worries of his, and those that did know would make sure to seat themselves next to him.

He’d expected today to be the same. Sit down on the train, try to come off as non threatening, then go to school. The universe had some other plans for him.

He stepped onto the train, immediately turning towards his seat and taking a long step before he froze. Normally, it would be empty (since everyone knew he sat there by now), but today, in his place sat you. Your head resting back against the window with your lips parted. A book loosely held in your hand, teetering on the edge of falling. The light through the window seemed like a halo around you - for a second, he was inclined to think you were an angel. Your eyes were closed, light snores, a sign you’d fallen asleep.

You truly looked at peace.

Aone didn’t move any closer to you, worried you wouldn’t want him sitting next to you. So he chose to stand, sighing internally as people moved out of his way, leaving a large circle around him.

You were wearing the Date Tech uniform, but he’d never seen you before, maybe you were just new? Or maybe you were a first year? He didn’t know - but he wanted to know.

For a second, he thought that you’d gotten on the train too early, that you wouldn’t show up again tomorrow. The thought was almost upsetting and he couldn’t figure out why.

To his surprise, you showed up the next day, and the day after that, and every day for two weeks. Every single time, you were asleep, or too engrossed in your book to notice him. When the third week came, you were sitting with the book in your lap, staring absentmindedly at the floor. The space to your right was open.

He tried not to pay any attention to it, acting as if you being fully conscious on the train ride was completely normal. Acting like you weren't staring at him (because why would you be?). Try his best to not meet your eyes every few seconds (because he definitely wasn't doing that).

Your lips were pressed into a thin line, and your eyes followed him wherever he went. It was almost unnerving- no, it was definitely unnerving. What did you want from him?

Well, that question was answered faster than he thought.

On the Monday of the fourth week, he stepped onto the train to find you standing in front of him. A soft glare on your face.

He glanced at the seat, and it was open, so why were you standing in front of him? And why were you glaring at him? And why weren't you moving? And- OH GOD! Why are you grabbing his hand and dragging him towards the seat? Why are you standing in front of him and pushing him down? And why-

You sit down next to him, the glare on your face practically gone as you smile and nod your head happily from one side to another. He just knows his cheeks are so red from you holding his hand but he can't glance down at you.

But then you're tapping his shoulder, so he has to look because, God, he doesn't want you to think he's rude.

In your hand is a melon pan (well, two, but the second one you are already happily munching on), you lift it up to him, gesturing for him to take it. And so he does. You seem satisfied for a second, before you pull out a carton of milk from your bag (once again, two), and pass him one.

He doesn't know how to react.

You seemed to have that effect on him; the mystical ability to leave him completely speechless more so than usual.

You take extra care in stabbing the straw through the film on top and sipping violently before you glanced up at him. "What?" You asked, acting far too innocent and none-the-wiser that he wanted to scream.

He shrugs.

You sigh, "L/N Y/N," you introduce yourself and his heart skips a beat because now he has a name to the face. “Don’t worry,” you say in between bites of your melon pan, “I already know your name.” That should worry him more than it does, but he was on the volleyball team. So he guessed it was okay.

Once again, you had that halo around you. So ethereal. God, just looking at you made him blush. Especially when you looked up at him with a slightly confused look in your eyes, tilting your head and raising a brow.

Of course, he looked away quickly - not that he wanted to.

It didn’t stop that day. You stood in front of the train doors every single day for three weeks (until you were sure he wouldn’t run off), and then you waited. Some days you were wide awake with food ready for him. Other days you were on the verge of falling asleep and had barely managed to pass him the food and drink before promptly falling asleep. The rest you were fast asleep, the bag of melon pan on your lap, his name written on the brown bag with a smiley face at the end.

When you were awake, you talked and talked like there was no stopping you. He found out so much. Like the fact you came to school early just because you could (though he didn’t understand that). You were in class 2C; you didn’t have a club, but you always wanted to join one (he almost suggested you become the volleyball club manager, but the words refused to leave his mouth); you loved melon pan, like, it was your own personal obsession; you learned how to bake just so you could make more melon pan. So much more. His knowledge on you was more than his own teammates. You’d walk him to class. He swore, if you had a tail, it would be wagging constantly.

Things only got worse for him the moment Futakuchi saw you walking together. Aone half-expected you to know he was, but then you looked up at him with expectant eyes and it brought him back to the moment of how you’d known his name before. So, if you didn’t know Futakuchi’s name, why did you know his?

He certainly didn’t feel like there was anything about him worth knowing, or worth remembering. But, for whatever reason, you knew things. You remembered them. Why?

After months of this routine, he decided to be confident and ask you.

“Do you want to study together after school?” You asked him before he could get any words out.

“Yes.” He said, not taking a second to question anything. He knew he had practice today, that didn't matter. You could just give him your address and then-

“Great!” You chirped. “I’ll wait for you.”

How could you be so effortlessly cheerful? He almost hated it.

He gave you a questioning look and you hummed, “well, partly because that way I can show you shortcuts google maps won’t show you, partly because I want to see you practice, and mostly because I want to spend more time with you.” There was the confidence that would be the death of him.

Seriously, he wished he could do that.

Instead, he nodded slowly, pretending like it wasn’t killing him that he couldn’t just hold you - because that would be weird.

When you showed up at practice, smiling up at him like he was your world, his teammates were quick to bombard him with questions. Not that he answered them. So they moved to you; once again, if you had a tail, it would have been wagging. You answered all of their questions with gleams in your eyes. You were so endearing this way, but he couldn’t help the spark of jealousy that danced in his stomach. Before you knew it, he was standing in front of you, stopping the rain of questions and to give you a second to breathe. You seemed thankful, especially when you smiled up at him softly before moving towards a wall to rest and watch the practice.

Well, watch was a strong word for what you did.

You watched him play for - maybe - five minutes before you fell asleep. The moment your light snores floated into the air, everyone halted playing to look over at you. There you were in your normal position, hands folded in your lap, lips parted and head rested back against the wall. The only thing that was different was Aone’s jacket that you had draped over yourself.

God, you really were trying to kill him.

Somehow they all silently agreed to practice so much quieter than normal, and every time you stirred, they froze; God forbid you wake up.

Moniwa was amazed you could fall asleep so easily, but he wasn’t going to stop you. Things only got worse when your face scrunched up from whatever dream you were having and everyone had to take a second to recover from how adorable it was - one glare from Aone managed to stop them, for now.

Your obvious discomfort made Aone’s heart ache, but he had to practice, so he just silently watched you from across the court. He tried his best to land softer than normal. If he could make the entire world quiet for you in this moment, he would. He glared at Futakuchi when he spiked a ball and it landed slightly too loud.

After practice finishes, you barely stir awake, smiling up at him lazily. “God, that went by quick.” You say, stretching and yawning. Aone can’t help but smile - just a little - especially when you push yourself to stand up, almost fall over, and grab onto his arm for support.

He would have been perfectly fine with it had you let go of him afterwards. But you didn’t. In fact, you slipped your hand into his. All blood rushed to his face no matter how hard he tried to hide it; Futakuchi noticed it far too quickly, but he didn’t say anything through his little smirk, just turned away from the pair and whistled innocently to himself. Aone knew this wouldn’t be the last he heard of this - not that he minded.

The journey back to your home was relatively quiet - the most prominent noise was his own heartbeat in his ears. So loud and thundering that he was worried you could hear it. Maybe you could, especially when you decided to rest your head on his shoulder, nuzzling your cheek against him like a kitten.

Really, you were still a wonder to him. Your body seemed to work like an alarm clock. You could fall asleep just about anywhere, at any time, and still wake up exactly when you need to.

Right now was a good example of that. Just as his anxiety settled in that you were going to miss your stop, your eyes fluttered open and you stood up groggily.

He’d need to ask you one day how you managed to do that.

At this point, your word might as well have been gospel to him; he wasn’t stupid, he knew he probably had feelings for you, and that they were more than just how friends act around one another. He wanted to protect you, keep you safe, to hold you close and never let you go. God knows you’d probably let him. But there were the parts that were worried about how you felt. Because he’d never seen how reacted with anyone other than him, he didn’t know how you were with your friends. At least he’d get to see a little more into your life when he gets to meet your family.

When you lead him up the steps to your home, he isn’t expecting the one bedroom apartment that you lead him into, but it isn’t a bad thing. “My parents are out of the country.” You say, and for the first time, you don’t elaborate. He isn’t going to push you to either. He’s happy with anything you have to say.

You lead him into the living room, asking him if he wants anything to eat or drink; clearing off the coffee table so they’d have somewhere to work. The silence that settled was comfortable - which surprised him, because he’d never had silence with you when you were awake. You filled his life up with so much noise that he loved it - maybe he’d go as far as to say he loved you.

Studying with you is nice, he can definitely see why you’re in a higher class. You help him with any questions he has, even if he can barely ask them to you.

He’s there watching you, wishing he had the words to explain to you how much more full you’d made his life. How much you’d changed everything around him.

Every night, he was silently thanking you for just existing near him; for sitting down in his seat; for noticing him, and bringing him to you; for pushing him just out of his shell enough to be able to call each other friends (even when his heart begged for more). He hoped for so many more moments like these, where he could bask in your glory, in everything to do with you. Even when he could never be yours, he still hope-

“I like you.” You cut off his train of thought so abruptly that he physically jumped. You stood in front of him, in front of his house (because you’d insisted on taking him home). Something flickered in your eyes and you looked away from him - for the first time in all of him knowing you, you were shy. Anxious. Worried. It was so obvious. “I know you probably don’t like me. And I know this is out of nowhere, but I have liked you since the first time I saw you.”

And with that, it was like two worlds collided. His heart was exploding with such overwhelming joy that he didn’t know how to react. So, he let his body react for him.

He wrapped you in a hug and pressed his head into the crook of your neck, ignoring the ache in his neck from leaning down. “I like you too…” his voice was barely above a whisper, yet it was so clear in your ears.

Somehow, you made his days even better than before. Whether you were standing waiting at the train doors with such bright smiles and love filled eyes, or when you leaned up and kissed his cheek in front of his teammates (he’d deal with the teasing from Futakuchi because nothing else mattered when you loved him).

Aone was used to people avoiding him on the train. He wasn’t used to the love you provided. But he’d never been more thankful for people avoiding him on the train, because maybe - just maybe - if they hadn't avoided him, you never would have pushed your way into his life. He’ll always be thankful for that train ride on that Monday morning, and every morning after then.

----

General Taglist:

@pies-writes-and-more​ @satan-ruler-of-hells @dekuspet @samkysnks @tobi-momo @kaleidoscopekai

If you want to be added to the taglist, send me a DM or an ask :D

papa aone making your tummy bulge, “you feel that baby? that’s papa right there in your tummy. little cunny is so tiny isn’t it?”.

and all you can do is nod and mutter an “uhuh” as you place your hand over his <3

no tummy bulges but everything else is the same <3

papa! aone + soft dom! aone + dirty talk + size kink + creampie + overstimulation + f! reader

hes gentle, overbearing with the way he hovers every single time he fucks you. the weight and heat of him pressing down onto your clit has your already trembling legs thrash around his pistoning hips.

aone is gentle... until you squirm.

large, thick palms splaying across the squishy expanse of your thighs. he tries to shush any whines the best way he can- by smashing a sloppy and too heavy kiss against your already tender and swollen lips, body bending down to claim every warbled scream tumbling forth from your mouth.

when he pulls back, looking with lidded eyes- blush running down his chest, gazing down at you with such ferocity you quickly stop any movement, uttering out a single;

“papa...” all in response to his gaze, crumbling completely, turning your head to the side.

he doesn't mean to pin you so hard, doesn’t mean to look at you so... meanly- he promises, but there’s something about the way you're crying, hips twisting in a pleasure addled haze- unable to take in such a big, heavy cock without some type of shake or seize or muscle spasm that brings out a tug of overwhelming need to take you as pliant as possible.

trembling, large- overworked shoulders shake, tears forming along the white eyelashes decorating his lids, muscled form eclipsing your own while he sees you take him in, pussy spreading so hotly around his cock, folds hugging him tight- he has to look back up at your face while he fucks you, the sight alone brings him a little too close.

“my baby.” aone grunts out- figures its the best apology you’ll be able to get out of him for the time being, slamming into you, drowning his cock in your tight, wet cunt, tossing his head back- wave of sensitivity awoken by the pretty title you've given him.

back arching up off the bed, your hands look desperately for his biceps, squeezing hard, sputtering out his name, trembling while your nobu squeezes a hand between your bodies, another body jolting thrust accompanied closely.

“my pretty girl- that's me...” he gasps, crumbling slowly, twitching harshly, feeling the jolt of your tummy as you take the impact of his hips so well, harsh vibration traveling up and up to your neck.

eyes rolling to the back of your head with the slowly increasing pace he’s using, all to fuck you into the mattress.

tears well up in your eyes- he always makes you feel so small, the filth he grunts out comes so natural it blindsides you always, gurgling out another pitch-y squeal as he pushes your body back down. 

“papa feels good in your tummy... mm?” aone wonders, his own tone crumbling to a lowly mumble, driving deeper and harder, wet slaps of his heavy and heated balls.

“so little... so little, but you take your papa so well.”

it brings you to the end, swimming in pure pleasured haze, tummy clenching down, mouth hanging open in a quiet yell, stars swimming with every blink.

he rears back, waiting with a baited breath as you cum- taking in every inch of your body as you butterfly underneath him, throat on display while you try to arch, still being kept still round your middle, this is the only time he lets you move as you please.

eyes fall to your pussy, cock sliding out so very slowly, painted in cum that’s dripping down every prominent vein of his reddened dick, forming a circle around the base of him- pubes covered, hips coming away sticky, strings of your cum still connecting you to him with every agonizing movement.

the slow drag brings you to tears once more, already squeezing around his cock- you cant think, can barely comprehend the stiff length of him moving.

in a crazed state, your own shaky hand clamps down over his, still pressed to you- feeling what he does, slowly bringing you back from that orgasm, now seeping down to your ass, coating his cock with your cum.

“good girl.” he breathes, need bubbling in his stomach, letting you take a deep breath, in attempt to regain sanity before he begins once more, rocking your body up the bed with invigorated thrusts- he needs to paint your walls white with his cum, needs to watch your already stretched cunt seeping with his cum.

“papa! p-please!” you scream, face scrunching up, lidded eyes opening briefly before shutting tight, only able to see the pinched skin of his brows in a blur as his body eclipses your own once more.

it doesn't take much, swollen head nudging an un-giving wall within you before he finally cums, moving his hands from your tummy, down to your hips to pull you down to him.

like always, he makes sure to keep you close while he cums inside, throbbing with every spurt, lowly groans, grunts and your name vibrating deep in his chest, labored breath a struggle to keep even.

you always look so pretty beneath him, letting him gaze upon your twitching, glistening body- letting him take claim over your being over and over.

“feels good- so good.” you finally murmur, hands moving from his biceps to lay on either sides of his thick neck, pulse quickened and heavy- matching your own, finally able to meet his heavy gaze, too tired to be intimidated.

he only nods, bringing his mouth to your own pulse point, once more pressing too heavy kisses there.

I'm asking me the same question you know? Like, date and Gyomei have no pupils, but- if we see aone from Haikyuu he has pupils-

WHY MUSCLE HEAD GUYS ARE ALWAYS MISSING THEIR PUPILS