Tetsurou Kuroo X Reader - Tumblr Posts
(please/don't) call me baby
soundtrack <3
pairing: tetsurou kuroo x f. reader
content: fluff, crack humor, kuroo acts like a loser virgin LOL, way too many pet names, it girl energy reader !!!
warnings: swearing, like one sexual joke, ooc
word count: 1k
for the lovely @chososcamgirl <33 i've had sm fun in your w this idea !!!
you call everyone pet names. it's kind of your thing now, really. everyone, from yaku (darling!), to kenma (sweetheart!) to lev (angel!). that is, everyone except kuroo. to you, kuroo is kuroo. occasionally tetsurou, if he's lucky, but mostly he is just kuroo.
he doesn't mind it, he swears. he doesn't even care! or he wouldn't, but he also unfortunately happens to be head-over-heels in love with you. how embarrassing. and he's totally not jealous of the other guys.
which leads him to his current situation. his head tips back over the back of his chair as he runs one hand through his hair. "y/n, do you hate me?"
"no, why?" your answer is sharp and fast from the desk next to his.
oh, shit. now it's awkward.
"because, like... you don't call me any of your stupid cute names or anything," he explains sheepishly.
you sit up straight, lips curving up into a beautiful, evil smile. "you wanna be called pet names, kuroo?"
he flushes, shakes his head. "naaah, just asking."
you don't seem to believe him, head tilted to one side as you regard him curiously. and then you're getting up and making your way towards him, bending down to get on his level, and he thinks he might spontaneously combust in his pants. your fingers dance across the broad expanse of his chest, and your eyes are like a predator's, stalking its prey. his breath hitches as he waits for you to speak; when you finally do, he thinks he might have be going insane.
"whatever you say, baby," you purr, and holy fuck, kuroo is so ready to get down on his knees for you or bark like a dog or do whatever the fuck you want right now. he is pathetically down bad for you — it's embarrassing, and like you can read his mind, you just have to go and make it worse.
you twirl his tie around your fingers, careful and calculated, and for a split second, he imagines being pulled up by it, letting you kiss him in this empty classroom, just like that. and oh, apparently you're satisfied with how much you've messed him up right now, because suddenly you're back at your desk, and he's watching you fix your skirt with a beet red face and even redder ears.
today, for whatever reason, you're taking longer than usual to pack up when class ends, so he takes the opportunity to extricate himself from this terrible, terrible situation that he's created for himself. but when he's finally halfway out the door, someone calls his name.
"kuroo," you call after him, sickeningly sweet voice pulling him back to you. "baby, don't say you're leaving without me!"
his knees give way.
"you haven't forgotten my offer, though, right?" what a perfect gentleman, walking you home like this. he's even limiting his strides so you can keep up with ease.
"what offer, baby?" you hum distractedly, eyes glued to your phone. manicured fingers fly across it as you text someone, and you only look up when he chokes unceremoniously.
"you okay—"
"yes! i'm fine!" he yelps before you can say another word — or rather, one very specific word — and looks away to hide his reddening face. "as i was saying—"
"yes, b—"
"stop talking! i mean, let me speak!"
you frown, surprised at the way he won't let you get in a word edgewise. "okay, weirdo. go on?"
"the manager position is still open," he huffs. he's still embarrassingly red; his heart has not yet calmed down. “if you want.”
"mm, i don't know, baby, i'll have to think about it."
he will die. or he will run into oncoming traffic and die. this is so unfair, it's torture—
"thanks for walking me back, baby, i'll see ya."
he trips and falls on his face. "fuck— i mean, see you later!"
"you seem awfully happy today," kenma observes. "did something happen?"
"what? no, why?" he splutters. splotches of red begin to appear on his face, and kenma smirks.
"sure."
"say, kenma."
"what?" he sounds annoyed even though he's the one who started this conversation.
"how do you deal with y/n's nicknames?"
"what d'you mean? they're okay."
silence. kuroo rolls this new piece of information over in his mind. "so... you don't feel like exploding or dying every time she calls you, like, baby or something?"
kenma looks confused. "no? i think that's called a crush, kuro. also you know she said she thinks that's too romantic for her friends, so no, 'cause she doesn't even call any of us that— are you okay?"
"kenma."
"what?"
"shut up."
kuroo is pretty. it's not an unknown fact, and you, having known him for several years at this point, are no stranger to it either. with sly honey-brown eyes and bedhead that he manages to make look good in a way that you just cannot fathom, he is — in short — just your type. this is also where you shamefully admit that yes, even his derisive remarks and general air of disdain when it comes to his opponents is very attractive indeed. not to mention his biceps— actually, let's not go there.
but biceps or not, he has been driving you insane as of late. and now, it's apparent that you're finally getting to return the favour. you're not stupid; you've been noticing his reactions to the nickname from the start. and it's almost satisfying to be able to toy with him the way he's — unintentionally — been doing with you. maybe he'll even catch the hints you've been dropping if he's lucky.
meanwhile, it's taken kuroo exactly one hour and twenty-three minutes to desensitize himself to (the thought) of your voice. anyways, it's not like he'll see you any time soon, so it's okay. first there's volleyball practice, then he'll go straight to bed.
kuroo hates himself — it's like everything he does comes back to bite him in the ass. or rather, in the lungs this time, question mark. because as he struggles to breathe properly, you're waving at him from across the gymnasium in a very oversized NEKOMA jacket.
"i thought about it it!" you yell. "i'll be temporarily managing the team!"
maybe he should quit.
author's note :: whenever i'm describing kuroo i swear i start typing w one hand😭😭 reader's pov was NAWT necessary to the story i just wanted to salivate over him ok.
also this is going to be a series so like :) that's why there's nothing major here really
(please/don't) call me baby
soundtrack <3
pairing: tetsurou kuroo x f. reader
content: fluff, crack humor, kuroo acts like a loser virgin LOL, way too many pet names, it girl energy reader !!!
warnings: swearing, like one sexual joke, ooc
word count: 1k
for the lovely @chososcamgirl <33 i've had sm fun in your w this idea !!!
you call everyone pet names. it's kind of your thing now, really. everyone, from yaku (darling!), to kenma (sweetheart!) to lev (angel!). that is, everyone except kuroo. to you, kuroo is kuroo. occasionally tetsurou, if he's lucky, but mostly he is just kuroo.
he doesn't mind it, he swears. he doesn't even care! or he wouldn't, but he also unfortunately happens to be head-over-heels in love with you. how embarrassing. and he's totally not jealous of the other guys.
which leads him to his current situation. his head tips back over the back of his chair as he runs one hand through his hair. "y/n, do you hate me?"
"no, why?" your answer is sharp and fast from the desk next to his.
oh, shit. now it's awkward.
"because, like... you don't call me any of your stupid cute names or anything," he explains sheepishly.
you sit up straight, lips curving up into a beautiful, evil smile. "you wanna be called pet names, kuroo?"
he flushes, shakes his head. "naaah, just asking."
you don't seem to believe him, head tilted to one side as you regard him curiously. and then you're getting up and making your way towards him, bending down to get on his level, and he thinks he might spontaneously combust in his pants. your fingers dance across the broad expanse of his chest, and your eyes are like a predator's, stalking its prey. his breath hitches as he waits for you to speak; when you finally do, he thinks he might have be going insane.
"whatever you say, baby," you purr, and holy fuck, kuroo is so ready to get down on his knees for you or bark like a dog or do whatever the fuck you want right now. he is pathetically down bad for you — it's embarrassing, and like you can read his mind, you just have to go and make it worse.
you twirl his tie around your fingers, careful and calculated, and for a split second, he imagines being pulled up by it, letting you kiss him in this empty classroom, just like that. and oh, apparently you're satisfied with how much you've messed him up right now, because suddenly you're back at your desk, and he's watching you fix your skirt with a beet red face and even redder ears.
today, for whatever reason, you're taking longer than usual to pack up when class ends, so he takes the opportunity to extricate himself from this terrible, terrible situation that he's created for himself. but when he's finally halfway out the door, someone calls his name.
"kuroo," you call after him, sickeningly sweet voice pulling him back to you. "baby, don't say you're leaving without me!"
his knees give way.
"you haven't forgotten my offer, though, right?" what a perfect gentleman, walking you home like this. he's even limiting his strides so you can keep up with ease.
"what offer, baby?" you hum distractedly, eyes glued to your phone. manicured fingers fly across it as you text someone, and you only look up when he chokes unceremoniously.
"you okay—"
"yes! i'm fine!" he yelps before you can say another word — or rather, one very specific word — and looks away to hide his reddening face. "as i was saying—"
"yes, b—"
"stop talking! i mean, let me speak!"
you frown, surprised at the way he won't let you get in a word edgewise. "okay, weirdo. go on?"
"the manager position is still open," he huffs. he's still embarrassingly red; his heart has not yet calmed down. “if you want.”
"mm, i don't know, baby, i'll have to think about it."
he will die. or he will run into oncoming traffic and die. this is so unfair, it's torture—
"thanks for walking me back, baby, i'll see ya."
he trips and falls on his face. "fuck— i mean, see you later!"
"you seem awfully happy today," kenma observes. "did something happen?"
"what? no, why?" he splutters. splotches of red begin to appear on his face, and kenma smirks.
"sure."
"say, kenma."
"what?" he sounds annoyed even though he's the one who started this conversation.
"how do you deal with y/n's nicknames?"
"what d'you mean? they're okay."
silence. kuroo rolls this new piece of information over in his mind. "so... you don't feel like exploding or dying every time she calls you, like, baby or something?"
kenma looks confused. "no? i think that's called a crush, kuro. also you know she said she thinks that's too romantic for her friends, so no, 'cause she doesn't even call any of us that— are you okay?"
"kenma."
"what?"
"shut up."
kuroo is pretty. it's not an unknown fact, and you, having known him for several years at this point, are no stranger to it either. with sly honey-brown eyes and bedhead that he manages to make look good in a way that you just cannot fathom, he is — in short — just your type. this is also where you shamefully admit that yes, even his derisive remarks and general air of disdain when it comes to his opponents is very attractive indeed. not to mention his biceps— actually, let's not go there.
but biceps or not, he has been driving you insane as of late. and now, it's apparent that you're finally getting to return the favour. you're not stupid; you've been noticing his reactions to the nickname from the start. and it's almost satisfying to be able to toy with him the way he's — unintentionally — been doing with you. maybe he'll even catch the hints you've been dropping if he's lucky.
meanwhile, it's taken kuroo exactly one hour and twenty-three minutes to desensitize himself to (the thought) of your voice. anyways, it's not like he'll see you any time soon, so it's okay. first there's volleyball practice, then he'll go straight to bed.
kuroo hates himself — it's like everything he does comes back to bite him in the ass. or rather, in the lungs this time, question mark. because as he struggles to breathe properly, you're waving at him from across the gymnasium in a very oversized NEKOMA jacket.
"i thought about it it!" you yell. "i'll be temporarily managing the team!"
maybe he should quit.
author's note :: whenever i'm describing kuroo i swear i start typing w one hand😭😭 reader's pov was NAWT necessary to the story i just wanted to salivate over him ok.
also this is going to be a series so like :) that's why there's nothing major here really
(why are you still) call(ing) me baby(?)
soundtrack <3
pairing: tetsurou kuroo x f. reader
content: fluff, crack humor, kuroo acts like a (jealous) loser virgin LOL, way too many pet names, it girl energy reader !!!
warnings: swearing, jealous kuroo, misunderstandings, ooc. dry humor kinda but idk. it's weird i'm weird.
word count: .8k
part one.
kuroo actively avoids you until his first break, at which point he's forced to sit near you.
"isn't that too big for you?" he asks when the silence gets comfortable enough. you shrug, tugging the jacket in question tighter around yourself.
"i dunno, they didn't have any spares in my size so they just gave me one of yours."
in that exact moment, kuroo has an epiphany. the world stops moving, and so many things change.
"you can keep it," he forces out with a (fake) cough. a large hand comes up to cover his mouth, but also the dark red blush on his cheeks. "i have like, four of them."
"thanks, baby!"
kuroo's heart does a weird little jump; he chokes on his water and makes an excuse about needing to go to the bathroom.
in the bathroom, he remembers the concept of box breathing. he is forever indebted to whoever discovered it. however, it does not help in the slightest when you accost him as soon as he prepares to go back to the court; there are some things you don't understand! kuroo, baby, you're the captain, so you should definitely help me out here!
he swears under his breath, yes i'm coming, what do you need?
you're pleasantly surprised and a little put off that the effect has worn off this fast. (actually, kuroo's thumb is digging into the palm of his hand, and he thinks he might suffocate.) not to mention, he hasn't picked up any of the (admittedly too-subtle) hints yes been dropping.
okay, next course of action.
"wait, kuroo—"
"yeah?"
"i just realised that, um, yeah you're the captain so it's best to ask you, but also you're the captain, so i'm sure you're suuuuper busy!"
you don't let him get another word in, flitting over to kenma, who's crouched down on the floor, and start talking to him, and your heads are so close together.
kenma is his best friend. he should not dislike kenma. he should not feel jealous of kenma. yet right now, that's exactly what he's doing, exactly what he's feeling. kuroo grits his teeth and pries his eyes away from where they've been burning holes into the back of kenma's head.
"damn, he looked away?" kenma.
"yeah, i guess he doesn't really like me as much as you thought," you sigh.
"stupid, that's not true."
"but—"
you're interrupted by the sound of a volleyball slamming onto the ground. it's louder than any of the ones you've heard before, and slightly terrifying to experience up close.
"woah, kuroo, that was a mean spike!" yamamoto looks excited, but kuroo seems more annoyed than pleased by his success.
"it's fine," he responds sourly. "could be better."
but his junior doesn't seem to notice, coming up to kuroo with a pumped up grin. "no, dude, seriously—"
"i get it!" he snaps. "i don't care."
yamamoto blinks, then slowly backs away. "oh, okay..."
kenma looks away to shield his face from kuroo's eyes, and subsequently to hide the evil smile that's stretching across his face. "see? he's mad."
"maybe he's just annoyed because i'm annoying!"
"you're fucking delusional."
you smile fondly at him, ignoring the insult after years of getting used to them. but that's from your point of view. what kuroo in his deluded haze of jealousy sees is completely different — why are you and kenma so close all of a sudden? and kenma knows he likes you! how could he?
kenma pats your shoulder and gets up, walking towards kuroo with a wry but self-satisfied smirk. kuroo begins to think of ways he can kill kenma and then himself with the ball in his hands as fast as he can. unfortunately, his best friend (and worst enemy) makes it to his side uninjured.
"what's gotten you so pissed off today?"
"nothing, i'm fine," he replies through gritted teeth. it is very obvious that he is in fact, not fine at all. hate permeates him to the core, hands gripping the volleyball like he'll die if he lets go.
kenma snickers, noticing kuroo's glare and white knuckles. "jealous?"
"of course not." one of his eyes begins to twitch; he stares straight ahead and refuses to look at kenma.
he hears a sardonic laugh beside him. "stupid, we were talking about you."
"as if." kuroo's given up on trying to deny anything anymore, but he's still mad.
"no, really," kenma replies. kuroo turns to him with a surprised frown, and kenma shrugs. "so stop being weird, or whatever, kuro."
uncharacteristically, he also pokes kuroo's side; once he sees the venomous look in his eyes he takes off running, videogame console clutched tightly in his hands.
sitting beside lev, you watch the two of them run in circles around the court. a notepad rests in your lap, and you bite the top of your pen thoughtfully. "i dunno, lev, that didn't seem to work either."
"maybe it's time for a new plan," he suggests.
"yeah, maybe."
author's note :: mid writing much apologies <3 written series r insane i like. havent done one in almost a year (yuji x reader u will always be,, something to me). mm kuroo mmfghh jealous kuroo mmmmmfhghhfhgfh jealous and ANGRY kuroo he's so. i would let him. yk.
@chososcamgirl @stillnotherapy gc poops hi <3
(why are you still) call(ing) me baby(?)
soundtrack <3
pairing: tetsurou kuroo x f. reader
content: fluff, crack humor, kuroo acts like a (jealous) loser virgin LOL, way too many pet names, it girl energy reader !!!
warnings: swearing, jealous kuroo, misunderstandings, ooc. dry humor kinda but idk. it's weird i'm weird.
word count: .8k
part one.
kuroo actively avoids you until his first break, at which point he's forced to sit near you.
"isn't that too big for you?" he asks when the silence gets comfortable enough. you shrug, tugging the jacket in question tighter around yourself.
"i dunno, they didn't have any spares in my size so they just gave me one of yours."
in that exact moment, kuroo has an epiphany. the world stops moving, and so many things change.
"you can keep it," he forces out with a (fake) cough. a large hand comes up to cover his mouth, but also the dark red blush on his cheeks. "i have like, four of them."
"thanks, baby!"
kuroo's heart does a weird little jump; he chokes on his water and makes an excuse about needing to go to the bathroom.
in the bathroom, he remembers the concept of box breathing. he is forever indebted to whoever discovered it. however, it does not help in the slightest when you accost him as soon as he prepares to go back to the court; there are some things you don't understand! kuroo, baby, you're the captain, so you should definitely help me out here!
he swears under his breath, yes i'm coming, what do you need?
you're pleasantly surprised and a little put off that the effect has worn off this fast. (actually, kuroo's thumb is digging into the palm of his hand, and he thinks he might suffocate.) not to mention, he hasn't picked up any of the (admittedly too-subtle) hints yes been dropping.
okay, next course of action.
"wait, kuroo—"
"yeah?"
"i just realised that, um, yeah you're the captain so it's best to ask you, but also you're the captain, so i'm sure you're suuuuper busy!"
you don't let him get another word in, flitting over to kenma, who's crouched down on the floor, and start talking to him, and your heads are so close together.
kenma is his best friend. he should not dislike kenma. he should not feel jealous of kenma. yet right now, that's exactly what he's doing, exactly what he's feeling. kuroo grits his teeth and pries his eyes away from where they've been burning holes into the back of kenma's head.
"damn, he looked away?" kenma.
"yeah, i guess he doesn't really like me as much as you thought," you sigh.
"stupid, that's not true."
"but—"
you're interrupted by the sound of a volleyball slamming onto the ground. it's louder than any of the ones you've heard before, and slightly terrifying to experience up close.
"woah, kuroo, that was a mean spike!" yamamoto looks excited, but kuroo seems more annoyed than pleased by his success.
"it's fine," he responds sourly. "could be better."
but his junior doesn't seem to notice, coming up to kuroo with a pumped up grin. "no, dude, seriously—"
"i get it!" he snaps. "i don't care."
yamamoto blinks, then slowly backs away. "oh, okay..."
kenma looks away to shield his face from kuroo's eyes, and subsequently to hide the evil smile that's stretching across his face. "see? he's mad."
"maybe he's just annoyed because i'm annoying!"
"you're fucking delusional."
you smile fondly at him, ignoring the insult after years of getting used to them. but that's from your point of view. what kuroo in his deluded haze of jealousy sees is completely different — why are you and kenma so close all of a sudden? and kenma knows he likes you! how could he?
kenma pats your shoulder and gets up, walking towards kuroo with a wry but self-satisfied smirk. kuroo begins to think of ways he can kill kenma and then himself with the ball in his hands as fast as he can. unfortunately, his best friend (and worst enemy) makes it to his side uninjured.
"what's gotten you so pissed off today?"
"nothing, i'm fine," he replies through gritted teeth. it is very obvious that he is in fact, not fine at all. hate permeates him to the core, hands gripping the volleyball like he'll die if he lets go.
kenma snickers, noticing kuroo's glare and white knuckles. "jealous?"
"of course not." one of his eyes begins to twitch; he stares straight ahead and refuses to look at kenma.
he hears a sardonic laugh beside him. "stupid, we were talking about you."
"as if." kuroo's given up on trying to deny anything anymore, but he's still mad.
"no, really," kenma replies. kuroo turns to him with a surprised frown, and kenma shrugs. "so stop being weird, or whatever, kuro."
uncharacteristically, he also pokes kuroo's side; once he sees the venomous look in his eyes he takes off running, videogame console clutched tightly in his hands.
sitting beside lev, you watch the two of them run in circles around the court. a notepad rests in your lap, and you bite the top of your pen thoughtfully. "i dunno, lev, that didn't seem to work either."
"maybe it's time for a new plan," he suggests.
"yeah, maybe."
author's note :: mid writing much apologies <3 written series r insane i like. havent done one in almost a year (yuji x reader u will always be,, something to me). mm kuroo mmfghh jealous kuroo mmmmmfhghhfhgfh jealous and ANGRY kuroo he's so. i would let him. yk.
@chososcamgirl @stillnotherapy gc poops hi <3
deja vu - kuroo tetsurou ft. Kenma genre: angst | notice: song fic | --- - where kuroo fell in love with someone to get deja vu of you. [ part 1 | part 2 ] other notes: this fic is heavily inspired by Olivia Rodrigo's deja vu ;) the playlist dedicated for this story. (< click here)
enjoy your meal!
You knew Kuroo and Kenma since the three of you are still young, you knew about their flaws and golden qualities but more importantly you became too fond of Kuroo and Kenma, on the other hand also knew that. He knew how your eyes linger a little longer when it comes to Kuroo, Kenma watched you feel enamoured while you watched Kuroo. Kenma watched you so much that he knew you loved Kuroo more than just a friend. Kenma, always watched you, trying to figure out if Kuroo feels the same with you.
To his luck, he watched Kuroo’s eyes watch every moment, every scenery whenever the bedhead is with you. Kenma also watched the first time Kuroo looked at you as if you’re the most fragile thing in the room. Kenma watched Kuroo and you fell in love with one another.
Kenma was always there with the both of you. Gosh, he can’t even get over the fact that he stayed up all night hearing Kuroo talk about you and you greeting him in the morning only to tell him about your dreams that you wish to achieve with Kuroo. The blonde already fed up with too much information to the point he just blurted out that you two should date.
Kenma watched his two best friend love each other, he watched the both of you trade jacket’s even your jacket actually doesn’t fit Kuroo, he watched you laugh at every Kuroo’s chemistry joke, he watched the both of you sing the songs in Pitch Perfect and Glee even though sometimes you two are out of tune, and he watched you and Kuroo brag to your friends that you finally found someone to keep and to hold for a lifetime. Kenma always wanted this to see Kuroo with a smile on his face and a joy creeping up your lips.
He also was one of the first persons who knew where the two of you went when you two ran away from town.
From Kuroo's perspective, he got everything in his arms and that was you. He can’t forget how thankful he is that there’s this person he is able to share his strawberry ice cream with. He felt at ease with you, he felt home with you. He also regretted that he never got to tell you that he loves you a lot sooner, but you assured him everything is fine.
At night when he holds you tight, your hair would fall in his arms as you both sway to Billy Joel’s Uptown Girl, and a Cheshire smirk in his face. And when the morning comes, you showed him your hiding spots, you showed him a place where it is peaceful, you showed him your safe place as Kuroo knew how your hands moved when you’re nervous, he watched you lips turn into smiles when you see him, he knew your mannerisms and jokes that always makes him laugh.
A small pond close to yours and his old school, that’s your favorite spot and now, also his. He would hold you close when he’s there with you playing soft songs that you and he knew, as he tells you that he loves you in between the chorus and verse.
He still remembers the night where he slept by your side while you tell him your dreams and hopes for the both of you. He still tastes the time when he heard you bragging to his friend that he is so unique.
Like from the beginning Kenma watched you two fall, he also the first one watched the both of you break.
Kenma watched Kuroo’s eyes leave yours whenever his new friend enters the room, Kenma watched Kuroo’s hand leaving yours and guiding the other person in the room. He watched Kuroo’s jacket on his friend too. Kenma watched the sweetness of strawberry ice cream start to get bitter. Kenma watched Kuroo leave you.
He watched Kuroo break you.
Who would’ve thought he would be here, watching Kuroo kneeling in front of someone he never really knew asking their hand in marriage, there Kenma sees your image in the pond next to your old school and his, there he watched Kuroo making another person that’s not you to be his. He watched Kuroo once again fall with someone, look at someone as if they are the most fragile thing in the world, he watched Kuroo trade jackets with someone, he watched Kuroo telling the jokes you used to tell him, he watched Kuroo fall in love with someone and fell out of love with you.
But among other things, one thing that Kenma cannot seem to unsee is whenever he sees Kuroo with that someone, he sees you, Kenma sees your mirroring image, doing the things you used to do with Kuroo.
Here he is now, staring at Kuroo, in a room where people are waiting for the groom to enter the room. Kenma watched his friend preparing for a marriage.
“Kuroo, when you enter the place where you will say ‘I do’, please be honest with me..” Kenma uttered a simple glimpse from Kuroo while Kuroo fixed his hair. “When you call her, do you almost say [Name]’s name?”
Cause they actually sound the same. “With everything you did with [Name], was [Name] just your type?”
Kenma argued and his voice got a little louder making Kuroo stand up and look at him firmly. “I bet you danced her with Uptown Girl, like you once did with [Name]!”
By now, Kuroo and Kenma had their first hardfist argument. At Kuroo’s wedding day.
“When are you gonna tell her that you and [Name] did that too?” He asked, making Kuroo bite his inner lip, Kenma walked closer to Kuroo and looked at his eyes. “..She might think it’s special but Kuroo, it’s all reused!”
Kenma watched tears coming out of Kuroo’s eyes as he looked away from Kuroo and stared at the empty wall behind Kuroo.
“I’ve watched you for a long time, Kuroo. And don’t act like you didn’t do things with [Name], like trading jackets? Singing along with Glee? Give me a break, Kuroo.” He sighed, while letting his hand ball into a fist meeting Kuroo’s face.
“Do you get Deja vu, when she’s with you?”
That was the last thing Kuroo ever heard from Kenma’s voice, as he left the room and entered his own wedding ceremony, there he saw your eyes when he walked on the aisle, he saw your eyes in the crowd and visioned himself next to you. He met your eyes in the crowd and he now realized, someone took your spot that should be yours.
A spot that was yours--supposed to be yours. He met your eyes, wishing he can turn back time. His eyes left you for a moment and you were gone. Kenma watched you leave the ceremony and when Kuroo reached the end of the aisle he met Kenma’s gaze and whispered.
“I do get Deja Vu of [Name], Kenma.”
At last Kenma watched Kuroo again as he breaks from the inside and as Kuroo wishing this was only a dream--a nightmare that he can wake up anytime.
Fin
-
{masterlist}
Haikyuu boys you meet while pet-sitting
Daichi, Matsukawa, Kuroo, Ushijima x afab reader Word count: ~1.6k Tags & warnings: Smut, smut, n more SMUT-MDNI, thigh riding, dom (teeny tiny), praise, p in v, creampie (implied), oral sex (m and f receiving), hair pulling, fingering, throat fucking, I love a man that smells good and has a sexy voice
Note: New year, same horny me. This got out of hand. Recently did a lot of pet-sitting and I wish any (all) of this happened. It’s my first time writing smut - thoughts & constructive criticism welcome
You meet Daichi before you even start cat-sitting. Due to a last-minute itinerary change, your friend flew out a day early and left her extra key with a neighbor for you to pick up. He opens the door dressed in a t-shirt and shorts and you’re reduced to a stammering mess as you gape at his immense biceps and thighs, trying to explain that you’re the cat-sitter and sorry for disturbing him but could you please get your friend’s key?
Daichi is too polite to comment on your wandering eyes and nervous stuttering, but he’s smirking to himself after he closes his door. Unfortunately for your composure, he suddenly finds himself needing to borrow a lot of things. Could he get some sugar? One of his best friends is an elementary school teacher, you see, and he wants to bring some cookies for the kids when he goes for a class visit. Does your friend have a wrench he can use? You don’t know where it is? Well, why doesn’t he come in to help you find it? You get used to seeing him every day, although he makes you short circuit each time, your nerves constantly on edge because he’s always murmuring things in your ear (he doesn’t want to startle you by yelling) or accidentally brushing against you (he can’t help it, he’s just so broad).
He finally decides to stop teasing you and asks you out to dinner. He’s so sweet and funny, and you find that when you’re not too flustered to function, you really enjoy his company, so much so that you invite him in for a drink afterward. The alcohol must have gone to straight to your pussy though because you quickly find yourself straddling him, absolutely intoxicated by his deep voice and masculine scent. You’re drenched and you can feel him straining against his pants, but he doesn’t want to rush it with you. He exudes natural authority, which is why you don’t let out a peep of protest when he tells you to ride his thigh first. He sits back with his hands behind his head and drinks in your furrowed brow and desperate whimpers as you grind yourself against his rock-hard muscle, cooing, “You’re doing so good, baby. Be really good and cum for me and I’ll give you a big reward.”
You’re confused when you call for your friend’s cat to come inside one night only to see her climb out of the neighbor’s window. The neighbor in question, Matsukawa, steps out onto the shared balcony and is just as confused to see you. You tell him you’re cat-sitting and he explains that your friend’s cat likes to sit on his laptop while he works. It turns into a comfortable routine to talk with him in the evenings while you wait for the cat to return. He’s incredibly handsome, but more than that he’s magnetic, witty, and has an absolutely lewd sense of humor that he’s surprised you love.
What you don’t know is that he’s got a major problem with you. The problem being he’s confused - no, frustrated - by why you’ve suddenly started wearing a shirt so flimsy it leaves nothing to the imagination. Every night, he struggles to keep himself from fixating on the swell of your breasts and the outline of your nipples poking through the sheer fabric. When he retreats to his apartment after your chats, he’s so worked up he has to fuck his fist, picturing how you’d look underneath him, glassy-eyed and drooling with his cum all over those pretty tits and leaking out of your pussy.
After a solid week, he decides enough is enough and invites you over. The two of you barely make it more than 10 minutes. He’s pouring you a drink when you confess you’ve been wearing that shirt on purpose after seeing him out on a run. In a flash, Issei’s got you bent over his kitchen counter, pulling your panties to the side. He barely needs to prep you because you’ve been looking forward to this all day, cursing under his breath as his fingers slide in with little resistance. He pulls your head back by your hair and growls into your ear while he rails you from behind, “If you’re gonna tease me, you better be ready to show me what this tight little pussy can do.” You barely register what he’s saying because the only thing you can focus on is how full you feel with each delicious drag of his thick cock against your slick walls. His cum drips down your thighs as he reaches between your legs one more time. “Gonna cum on my cock again baby?”
You first see Kuroo one morning while walking your friend’s dog. He’s out on a run with his own dog and you’d have to be a statue to be impervious to how his shirt clings to his chest. He sees you checking him out and decides to give you a show by lifting up the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his neck. Except he accidentally uses the same hand that’s holding the leash, causing his dog to pull him forward flat onto his face. After you make sure they’re both ok, you let yourself laugh so hard you get a stomachache.
You wonder if you’ll run into him again after that fiasco. He must be shameless because he makes sure to leave the house at the same time the next morning to catch you. He’s more sheepish this time, though he still drops some cheesy jokes. You run into him every morning after that, and every evening too. He always stops to chat. You give him shit for how unfunny he is, but he lives to hear your groans when he comes up with an especially terrible line. You two fluster each other constantly. His stomach flutters on the rare instances he actually makes you laugh - loudly and genuinely - at something he says. Meanwhile, you’re speechless when he starts running without a shirt on (because it’s hot out and not for any other reason), eyes hungrily taking in every inch of corded muscle. He smirks when he catches you gawking at him yet again, “Want me to ask you over or something?” Let me tell you, that false bravado slips right off when you reply, “Yea, I’d like that,” and suddenly he’s the one that's a stuttering wreck.
You go over to watch a movie together that night, but don’t get far because it’s adorable how he fidgets with his hair and his cheeky grin is so charming and he smells so enticing that it’s impossible to keep your hands to yourself. He shoos his dog out of the bedroom when you get down to business because “I don’t want her to see this.” As ridiculous as this man is, he is an artiste when it comes to eating pussy. He’s got you cumming around his tongue and fingers for the fourth time and doesn’t show any signs of slowing down. You’re gasping for breath, barely able to form a coherent thought, cunt drenched and clenching and begging for him to fuck you already. “Cum for me one more time baby, then I’ll do whatever you want.” But he’s said that three times already.
You’re intimidated when Ushijima opens his door but not too intimidated to ogle him as drops of sweat glide down his naked torso. You’ve interrupted him in the middle of a workout, but how were you to know? You just wanted to hand over a package that had been misdelivered to your friend’s apartment next door. You watch the way his muscles ripple as he reaches for the box, and he watches you brazenly eyefuck him (to be fair, his pecs are right there, not to mention the shadow of something massive in his shorts).
After that, he always offers a polite hello in the hallway, but never initiates conversation and only gives you one-word responses, so you figure he’s not interested. It’s disappointing, but at least you can still fantasize about him, moaning his name while knuckle deep in your soaking cunt, desperately wishing it was his thick fingers instead. You hear a knock and hurriedly throw on a robe to find Ushijima at the door. He clears his throat. “Were you…calling for me?” SHIT. You forgot to close the windows. If only the ground would swallow you whole right now so you don’t have to stammer out an excuse, any excuse.
But then you notice the nervous bob of his adam’s apple and the bulge in his pants, and you find yourself asking if he came over to help. He nods, following you to the couch obediently like a huge puppy. He’s so timid at first, letting out sweet little whines when you wrap your lips around him, barely able to fit a few inches in your mouth. But now he’s grunting like a feral thing as he fists your hair, slamming his cock over and over again into the back of your throat, unable to hold back as he chases his own release. And after he pumps your throat full of cum, you’re going to count yourself the luckiest bitch in the world as you slowly sink your dripping pussy down onto his fat cock. “Are you sure I’ll fit?” he whispers in a haze, watching your eyes roll back as he disappears inside of you inch by inch.
Note 2: Pussydrunk Kuroo or bust. Ok but now I’m thinking about how hilarious (read: horny & amazing) reader’s life would be if this was all in the same apartment complex and happening at the same time
kuroo texts you at 3:52 am, almost three months after you broke up.
admittedly, you probably should've silenced notifications from him by now, but when you roll over—eyes barely open, a little headache from the light—you know you're much, much too late.
a text, from your ex-boyfriend, the big, blue bubble stretched across your phone.
i just moaned your name during sex.
you blink at the screen.
you what?
moaned your name, he sends. totally ruined the moment.
you look up, and then down, and then up one more time to make sure what you’re looking it is real and not some strange, midnight hallucination before typing again.
you’re fucking with me, right?
dead serious, he replies. worst moment of my life.
you can hear his voice in the text, and if you weren’t so caught up in thinking about the poor girl who probably just had the worst sexual experience of her life, you would laugh.
you need to find a hobby or something, tetsurou. you send. and preferably one that doesn't involve tinder.
i have hobbies!
non-sexual ones?
he types for a while before a short, little totally! pops up on his side of the conversation.
and you hate that this is the part of him that’s most intriguing. the unintentional charm, too weird for his own good part that keeps you texting him at four in the morning.
yeah, you send, quicker than you intended. totally.
and suddenly, you're really considering something you shouldn't. before tonight, you hadn't heard from in a while—at least not enough to be thinking about him. you'd resigned yourself to your little, single life and you figured boyfriends might be more harm than they're worth (at least for a while, anyway), but now you have a new little do you wanna come over? typed out into your messaging app, finger hovering over the send button.
you take a minute, trying to rationalize.
the responsible part of you thinks it's way too late to be asking for anything good. you have class in the morning, and you're all tucked into bed, and bringing him here would really stir up some old feelings you weren't looking to bring back right now.
the other part of you—the more fun of the two, you'll admit—knows that you're thinking about him and he's... definitely thinking of you, so what's the harm in indulging a little bit? maybe nothing would happen anyway and you'd just end up staring at each other for a while, but sitting in your bed alone, staring doesn't sound like the worst thing in the world.
you send the text.
there's radio silence for a moment, and you think you might have just fucked the whole we can be exes and friends! thing up, but after a moment or two, he replies.
really?
and you sigh, don't make me change my mind.
he sends an immediate be there in 10, and you flop yourself back into the pillows.
now, okay, you'd be lying if you said you haven't been in this situation before. you and kuroo have always had a strange habit of—gravitating towards each other, to put it politely. it doesn't matter how many times you guys swear each other off, there's always going to be a party, or a text, or a run-in at the grocery store that brings you together (in more ways than one).
the whole i just moaned your name thing, though, that one's new.
your eyes flicker up to the ceiling, then down to your feet, and then, finally, your phone—the reality of this whole thing sinking in a little.
are you supposed to—shave your legs for this? put on your good pajamas: the ones that ride up a little when you bend over? is that where this is going? you're pretty sure it is, but every time this has happened before, it's been a little more spontaneous than this. right now, you have time to prepare and time to think, which you're now realizing is something you really did not want.
you sit there for a minute, coming to the conclusion that this is kuroo. you dated for two years, and you shared a bed at night for more of that time than you'd care to admit, so what does it matter how prepared you are?
you hear a key turn in the front door (the one from under the mat; you took away his actual key you think) and, all of a sudden, you're kind of nervous.
you haven't felt this way in a while, especially when it comes to him. you think you might hate it.
nevertheless, your feet hit the floor and you let yourself pad your way into the entryway, just in time to see someone sliding his shoes into the gap between the doorway and the wall.
you flick the light on, and he jumps a little.
a beat of silence, and then, "hi."
that's all you can come up with right now, truly, and you blame half of it on the time and the other half on the fact that kuroo looks like that.
he's always been pretty, no doubt about that, but right now he looks a little beat up in a way that you have to admit you're kind of into.
his hair's messed up: half of it shifted more left than right, with a little curl to it that he doesn't normally have. his cheeks are red, and he's a sort of out of breath and—did he run here?
"hi," he says, smiling, heaving out a breath.
(oh, he totally did. maybe you're a little more alluring than you thought).
you chuckle out one more, final hi, before he steps towards you.
he smells good—not that that's something you focus on, obviously—but he's still wearing that cologne you bought him last christmas and there's a little tinge of sweat to him that suits him so much better than you'd think.
he has a t-shirt on—one you got from a concert a couple years ago; you can't remember exactly when anymore, but it's clear that the thing has gotten its wear. the hole in the left shoulder is glaring at you from here and you kind of want to poke it.
"i have your key, by the way," he says then, dangling the little thing between his fingers. "did you ask for it back?"
oops.
"i—meant to." you snatch it from him, tossing it onto one of the side tables. "definitely meant to."
his hand lingers there for a second, a big, toothy smile spread across his face. "oh, sure you did."
and you eye him, a short what's that supposed to mean? rolling out of your lips.
he shakes his head, moving closer again—so much so that you can feel the cast of his breath along your cheeks.
"you still like me," he says, and you swear you can see his vocal cords bob in his throat.
"pardon?"
"you think i'm fun—and endearing, and still worthy of a housekey."
"i think you're nuts." you say, fluttering your lashes a little. "and really not in the position to be making these accusations."
"you really think so?" he leans in one more time, close enough that his lips brush that arch between your jaw and your neck. "go ahead—tell me all about how crazy i am."
you feel something inside you quiver.
this right here, this is the whole game between the two of you. some sick little cat-and-mouse thing that always leads to something that you regret in the morning and—inevitably—repeat next week.
truthfully, though, you're getting kind of sick of fighting it.
"god, i can't stand you." you back away, edging towards the hallway that leads to your room. "are you coming with me or what?"
and he grins, because of course he is.
reblogs are greatly appreciated ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა
HQ BOYS MEETING A BEAUTIFUL FAN
⟶ ft. kuroo, suna, ushijima
♡ kuroo
"kuroo? kuroo testurou?"
kuroo whips around, ready to apologise to whoever that the nekoma volleyball team is currently rushing to catch their bus back to school, when he's suddenly hit with...
kuroo's jaw drops.
he doesn't even know how to describe what he's seeing. all he knows is that he's currently staring at the girl of his dreams.
"um, could i take a video with you?" you give him a tentative grin, before rocking back on your heels, adding, "and if it's okay, could you wish my friend to get well soon?"
kuroo immediately closes his mouth, aware that he looks completely stupid in front of the cutest girl he's ever laid eyes on. he gazes at you with his iconic half-lidded eyes, hoping he sounds more confident than the way his heart is clenching in his chest, "oh? a video? and what's your friend's name?"
"misaki! she's your biggest fan but she couldn't be here because she's sick today." kuroo nods empathetically at your explanation, internally swooning because you're going to such lengths for your sick friend? that is so cute.
"sure! a video's nothing! hang on - kenma, help us take a video!"
kenma turns around, about to protest how they have no more time to entertain fangirls when he sees kuroo slinging an arm around you. kuroo shoots kenma a pleading look and kenma finds himself sighing because, of course, kuroo is absolute putty for pretty girls.
when coach nekomata calls for kuroo and kenma, kuroo frowns as he removes his arm around your waist, before he gets an idea.
he leans in closer to you, pressing something into your hands, smirking, "return this to me in school."
before you can even open your mouth and protest, kuroo's gone.
you look down in your hands and see his nekoma jacket crumpling between your fingers as you giggle to yourself.
♡ suna
suna is normally cool as a cucumber, eyes glued to his phone nonchalantly whenever a group of fangirls approach his teammates and gush animatedly.
normally.
he thinks he's being slick when he sneaks a few glances your way, heart clenching in his chest as he sees you move closer - or rather sees your friends drag you towards...him?
suna quickly assesses his situation and scans the area around him - no, the miya twins were not around him. this could only mean one thing - you're headed straight in his direction.
before he has the time to really freak out about an angel of a girl approaching him, you're already getting pushed towards him, with your friends' soft snickers in the background. and you're beaming up at him softly.
he feels his heart in his throat when he hears you repeat, gesturing to your friend who's holding up a polaroid camera, "are you okay to take a photo with me?"
okay? fuck. he is more than okay.
suna blinks, regaining a little composure. straightening his jersey, suna nods at you silently and wraps an arm around your shoulder, hoping you don't hear the way his heart is hammering thunderously against his chest.
holy shit. how do you smell amazing too? what was that - vanilla or something floral?
as suna tries to figure out what exactly is the intoxicating scent wafting around him, the photo is over, a little too fast might he add. he feels you pulling away from him and his arm drops back to his sides.
he knows he sounds uncharacteristically simp-y and even cringes a little at himself, but he knows he will forever regret it if he didn't ask you.
"do you wanna have another photo? with the polaroid camera, i mean."
suna may or may not have left his number behind the second polaroid.
♡ ushijima
"hi!"
ushijima feels a gentle tap on his shoulder right after he hears you. he turns around slowly and -
there is no way you are real.
"hello." he greets, looking stoic in contrast to the way he's internally panicking.
ushijima feels his grip tighten on the volleyball he's holding, taking in the way your eyes shine under the harsh gym lights. he listens to you ramble something about being a fan of his and a reporter as his eyes continue to glaze over your angelic figure, only snapping out of it when he feels kageyama nudging his side.
"so ermmm, what do you do in your free time?" you repeat helpfully, prodding a pen against your notepad.
"uhm." ushijima feels his face heating up. "i take care of my plants."
you're immediately gasping, "no way! i'm a plant mom too!"
"oh, uhhh," ushijima swallows, growing impossibly redder at the revelation of your shared hobby, "what do you grow?"
"roses!"
of course. that suits you, he thinks, pretty flowers for a pretty girl.
before ushijima knows it, he's spluttering nervously, "there's...actually a nursery around here..."
you look up from your notepad, eyes crinkling excitedly as you listen to ushijima explain how to get there. but after a couple of failed descriptions, ushijima scratches his head, "i-if you're not too busy afterwards, i could take you there?"
your eyes widen at the insinuation, before you nod shyly and give ushijima a small smile, which he finds himself melting at.
did ushijima just score himself a date? maybe.
is he complaining? oh hell no.
🤍 reblogs are very appreciated!
⟢ tweets about you ! hq
synopsis: just lovesick boys 🤭
ft. atsumu tanaka noya suna oikawa sugawara kuroo kenma bokuto hinata
→ RECEIPT. how they realised they were attracted to you. → TAGS. tetsuro kuroo, kei tsukishima, wakatoshi ushijima x reader, fluff, you almost get hit with the ball (thanks yaku), reader is suggested to be short(er).
TETSURO KUROO.
He started becoming quieter, almost conscious of what he said around others.
Nekoma watches as their captain almost moves in a daze, his eyes fixated on a certain girl on the bleachers, writing something and tucking her hair behind her ear every so often. Yaku had been the first to notice a few days ago during one of their practice matches, brow furrowed and lips pursed as Kuroo observed his younger sister. Although you were only younger by a year, making you a second year while Yaku and Kuroo third years, your brother was highly protective of you.
“She’s so pretty,” Kuroo murmurs, tossing the ball up and catching it repeatedly as he continues to gaze at you. He had said few words this match, albeit his smart remarks still made their presence. However, Kenma had to snap him out of a few daydreams while Lev had waved his big hands in his face, yelling “Yoohoo!”
Kuroo had deadpanned at that.
As the game continues, he watches as Yaku saves the ball but also causes it to fly over and almost hit you, making you yelp and cover your head. Kuroo almost chokes on his own breath.
“Oh my God, I am so sorry,” Yaku rushes out, face pinched in concern as he jogs over to where you sit with an unimpressed expression. Kuroo watches momentarily as the libero withstands your discipline and light slap to his head, before - as no one else seemed to do so - rushing up the bleacher stairs and snatching the ball up.
“You sure you don’t wanna sit higher up?” Kuroo suggests, watching it take you a moment to register that he’s talking to you. Your eyes lock and his breath hitches, lips parting as he watches you smile sheepishly and gather your notes in your arms. “That probably would be a good idea,” you giggle and thank him for his concern, moving to sit closer to the doors but not before shooting Yaku one last glare.
The libero pouts and apologises again.
Kuroo composes himself and fiddles with the ball before starting to make his way back down to the court.
“Hey, wait.” He freezes in place at the sound of your voice, turning to face you with inexplicable anticipation (for what, he wasn’t sure himself). He finds himself smiling as you do, watching as you nod towards the ball in his hand. “I will throw that ball out the window if it reaches me again,” you raise a brow, your warning teasing and (largely) unserious.
Kuroo snorts, nodding. “Noted.”
KEI TSUKISHIMA.
You became the person he talks to the most.
He hadn’t abandoned Yamaguchi at all, but even the green-haired man notices Tsukishima’s developing interest in you. You seemed more academic than the blond, opting to spend your time between classes in the library or the local cafe, but lately you had allowed him to distract you with his smart remarks and invitations to random days out. This time, he wanted you to help him practise.
“I’m not going easy on you,” you mumble, still shoving your books in your bag as you walk alongside him. He rolls his eyes and smacks the top of your head with the packaged strawberry shortcake slice he insists on having daily.
Once you get to the green field beside the school’s gym, he becomes insufferable.
“What happened to not going easy on me?” He grins, watching you chase after the ball for a second time.
You groan and almost much too aggressively throw a rock at him, one he easily avoids. You hate admitting it, but you are just as competitive as he is, so you don’t let his teasing demotivate you.
“I’m going to serve this ball in your damn face,” you huff, hitting the ball again. This time, Tsukishima is focused on his plays, following the ball carefully and analysing your every move.
By the time you’re done, three hours have passed and the sun is barely hanging in the sky. You’re sweating and panting, Tsukishima slouched against a wall as he too catches his breath. Neither one of you breaks eye contact so you’re not oblivious to the way he lets his eyes roam over you. You don’t hesitate to do the same.
“I shouldn’t have eaten that cake,” he huffs, “I’m gonna puke.”
You burst out laughing at his whimpers. He takes a few moments to hydrate himself before inhaling deeply and glaring at you.
“I hope your stomach hurts so bad that you can’t sleep tonight,” he almost pouts - so uncharacteristic of him (also hoping that you stay up to text him).
“If you’re done being petty,” you push your hair back and wipe yourself down with a small towel, “I was thinking we can go get some food, maybe help that little upset stomach of yours.”
You almost scream when he throws his sweaty towel at you.
WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA.
He starts to ask about you.
He’s walking out of school with the rest of the team, waiting outside a local store as Tendo and Goshiki spend half their life savings on snacks they’ll likely forget about. Ushijima is checking the news and simultaneously listening to Ohira talk about how he’s trying out a new regime at the gym, until he hears Semi on the phone with someone. He glances up at him, hoping to hear your voice, but turns back to his phone when he doesn’t.
After about ten minutes of yelling at Tendo and Goshiki to hurry up before their banks question their hefty transactions, they all start heading home again.
“How’s your sister?” Ushijima asks bluntly, catching Semi’s surprised expression in his peripheral vision. The setter hesitates before nodding. “She’s fine.”
An awkward silence dawns on the duo.
“I thought there would be more to that conversation,” Semi laughs, staring up at his seemingly unfazed captain. Ushijima hums.
Again, the silence becomes deafening.
“Is she still working in that new firm downtown?” Ushijima asks. “I remember you said that she was excited about getting her own office.”
Semi nods, brow furrowed in confusion. “I told you that about two months ago, do I wanna know how or why you still remember that?” The two then look at each other with seemingly apathetic expressions, although Semi has a feeling that Ushijima isn’t asking out of the kindness of his own heart. He doesn’t mention it though, instead says his goodbyes to the others as they all part ways - except for him and Ushijima.
Although Semi isn't too keen on letting you invest time into boys seeking nothing but someone they can manipulate for their own benefit, he knows that Ushijima is nothing like that. Though, he's not sure how the captain would even go about approaching you considering his and your busy schedules.
"Do you... want her number?" Semi initiates what Ushijima seemed hesitant to mention.
"Please."
sweetfushi © do not modify, repost, translate, copy or use my post in any way. all that is included in this post, aside from the fictional characters and universes, belong to sweetfushi (zee).
WORK WIFE — KUROO TETSUROU
pairing: kuroo tetsurou x fem! reader content: fluff, timeskip! kuroo (he’s so sexy)
you’re not really sure when kuroo started calling you his ‘work wife,’ but you honestly wouldn’t have it any other way. like many of your colleagues, you’ve been taken in by his teasing smile and charm and the way he brings you your coffee and bagel in the morning, just the way you like it. “good morning, wifey,” he says as he hands you your breakfast with a flourish. “vanilla latte with oat milk and an extra shot of espresso and a toasted everything bagel with cream cheese.”
you smile and thank him, sliding the bagel out from the waxy paper bag. you glance back inside and sheepishly open your mouth but kuroo beats you to the punch. “and, of course, your stirrer.” he sticks his hand in the pocket of his slate gray slacks and produces a wooden stirrer.
you chuckle, “you keep those in your pants just for me?”
“a gentleman always is prepared for a lady!”
“‘gentleman,’” you snort.
kuroo presses a hand over his heart. “i am a gentleman through and through!”
“uh-huh, keep telling yourself that.” you take a sip of your drink. “but thanks again for breakfast.”
he pats your head and sings out, “anything for my favorite work wife!”
“i better be your only one!” he laughs loudly at your reply, the sound bouncing off the walls as he heads down the hall to his office.
when lunchtime rolls around, kuroo, as usual, appears in your doorway with his lunch in hand. he never has the same thing, you’ve come to learn; today’s meal is grilled fish over rice, and kuroo asks, “up for a lunch date?”
you try to fight the warmth rising to your cheeks, still not used to his wording despite the many times he’s asked the exact same thing. you shake your head and sigh, “unfortunately, i’m behind on inputting the quarter two estimations so i think i’ll be working through lunchtime.”
kuroo still walks into your office and comes around to look at your computer screen. “have you been doing these all by hand?”
“yeah?”
“here, there’s an easier way to generate these estimates.” with a few clicks and keystrokes, you watch as numbers and figures fill the spreadsheet cells before your very eyes. you slump back in your chair, relieved. you glance up at kuroo. he’s so close that you can very clearly smell the way his cologne mingles with his minty toothpaste. your breath hitches as he stares down at you with pride. “you’re a lifesaver.”
“had to save my lunch time with my work wife.”
you stifle a yawn as you save your last pitch for the budget board and power off your computer. you looked out the window, the sun beginning to set on the horizon. you roll your chair away and stretch your hold body out, humming in relief as someone knocks on your door. it’s not hard to guess who it is. “come in.”
“hey,” kuroo pokes his head inside, blazer folded across his arm and his lanyard in hand. “ready to go?”
“yep, let me just get my stuff.” you gather your things and sling your bag over your shoulder, locking up your office and following kuroo out. you walk side-by-side in comfortable, tired silence until you get out of the building. “how was the merch presentation?”
“oh, it went really well,” he says. “thanks for letting me co-opt your time for rehearsal.”
“you know i always have time for you.”
kuroo gives you a smile that’s almost way too soft and sweet for you to handle, and you quickly avert your eyes to the street in front of you as you two come to the metro stop. he asks about how your younger brother is settling into college and you inquire about his grandparents, and it’s an endless stream of conversation as you two board the metro together.
“oh,” kuroo says suddenly, voice shifting to a quieter tone. “i’ve been meaning to ask, do you want to—?”
you desperately want to hear the end of his question but you’re coming up to your stop and you have to hurry home to walk your dog. “sorry! text me the question?”
he shakes his head. “i’ll tell you later. see you tomorrow, wifey.”
you wave to him over the shoulder as the doors close behind you, and you’re left with a warm feeling in your chest and burning curiosity about what he’ll ask you.
it’s the next day when your boss calls you into her office, asking you to let the newest employee to the sports promotion division shadow you for a little while until he gets the hang of what you guys do. his name’s nakamura eijun and he seems nice enough so you agree.
nakamura’s in your office as you go over how the jva’s filing and record-keeping online works when kuroo comes in with your daily breakfast. you sit up straighter, ready for him to finish whatever question he was about to ask.
he stops short when he sees nakamura and asks, “new guy?” nakamura nods and introduces himself, to which kuroo responds with an enthusiastic “i’m kuroo tetsurou. welcome to the team!” and without your usual banter, kuroo drops off your bagel and coffee and leaves without another word.
he peeks into your office again at lunch and you’re about to wave him inside, but he shakes his head and says, “i’ll come back later!”
he doesn’t. you don’t see kuroo for the rest of the day, which makes your heart sink. it’s the first time in months that he hasn’t followed the unconscious routine the two of your started. you try to look at the silver-lining. kuroo (and thinking about kuroo) is your main distraction of the day, so maybe it was a good thing he didn’t show up so you couldn’t make a fool of yourself.
what unnerves you, though, is that the following days are much the same. kuroo silently brings you your breakfast and peeks in every now and then, smile never quite meeting his eyes as he sees you eating with nakamura in your office. the days stretch to weeks and you realize two things: one — that kuroo’s avoiding you, and two — nakamura’s a lot less capable than you thought he would be, given that he’s still shadowing you after about two and a half weeks.
thankfully, you get a little reprieve when nakamura informs you that he’s out sick for the day. you perk up when kuroo comes in with your breakfast and give him your chirpiest “good morning.”
he leans up against your doorframe, glancing around. “your new work husband’s not here today?”
“what are you talking about?”
he says, “your new work husband. he have some emergency or something?”
you frown at his tone. “sorry, let me be more specific. who are you talking about?”
“nakamura,” he responds. finally, he crosses the threshold and hands you your bagel and coffee, the stirrer already inside the bagel bag. he plops down heavily in his chair, arms folded across his chest.
“you know you’re my one and only,” you say, offering a smile. when he doesn’t reply, your smile fades and you ask, “why do you think he’s my new work husband?”
“he’s been telling everyone that you two spend so much time together that he might as well be.”
you can’t help but roll your eyes and you reach across the desk, tapping your hand on the surface to get kuroo’s attention. he finally meets your gaze and you say, “we’ve been spending a lot of time together because sakura asked me to let him shadow and he’s—” you lower your voice to a conspiratorial whisper, prompting kuroo to lean in closer, “—not very smart.”
“really?”
you watch as the tension kuroo held in his shoulders disappeared and something like relief washed across his features. you can’t help but laugh a little, “really. is that what got you so grumpy these past few days?”
“hey!” he protests, “i wasn’t grumpy. pouty, maybe, but definitely never grumpy.”
“sure, sure.” you pause and then ask, “why were you so bothered by nakamura saying he’s like my work husband?”
kuroo’s face flushes and with an uncharacteristic shyness, he says, “because, y’know, that’s— that’s our thing. and i’m not too keen on letting someone steal my wife away.”
“good to know you’re a protective husband.”
he chuckles and says, “well, gotta get back to the trenches. those advertisement pitches aren’t going to pitch themselves.”
“don’t i know it.”
as he goes to leave, he hesitates in the doorway. then, he turns back to you and asks, “would you like to have dinner with me tonight? if you’re not doing anything, of course.”
your eyebrows raise but you can’t help the bright smile from breaking across your face. “yeah, that sounds great.”
a year and a half later.
nakamura and you are sitting in the conference room, brainstorming ways to help boost the sendai frogs’s popularity. nakamura taps his pen against his chin and suggests, “maybe we should tell koganegawa to stop yelling so much?”
“no, their fans like his enthusiasm,” you say.
“well, tsukishima’s their most popular player… maybe we can ask him to ramp up the fanservice. as in, do any.”
you snort but before you can make some snarky comment about how that absolutely will not happen, a voice comes from behind you. “you’re signing a death wish with that. no way tsukki’ll bite.”
nakamura’s face sours and he mumbles something as kuroo towers over both of you. you grin at him in greeting and give him a playfully chastising look, adding, “you’re right but you know it’s rude to interrupt a conversation.”
“just making sure my wife—” he gives nakamura a very pointed look, “—knows who she’s dealing with.”
you quirk an eyebrow. “your wife is a very capable woman, thank you very much.”
he smirks and bends down closer, deepening his tone. “oh, i know.”
nakamura scowls. “we get it, she’s your work wife.”
“actually…” kuroo’s shit-eating grin grows wide like a cat who got the cream and simultaneously, both of you hold up your left hands, matching silver bands glinting under the fluorescent lights. “she’s my wife-wife now.”
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ match my freak !!
ᝰ.ᐟ the two of you are private not secret, but when the media starts to speculate that the two of you are no longer together, neither of you are too happy. the best way to get everyone to stop with the breakup rumors? posting something a little bit nasty to the feed to satiate everyone's curiosity. (fem!reader)
featuring tobio kageyama, atsumu miya, tetsurou kuroo, wakatoshi ushijima, tooru oikawa, rintarou suna content contains breeding kink (atsumu, wakatoshi), pregnant reader (wakatoshi), famous!reader (changes depending on scenario), creampie (tetsurou), hatefucking (not really, you + kuroo just like to antagonize each other but the attraction is there), scratches on his back (tobio), hickeys (tooru), wet n messy (rintarou), possessive!character x possessive!reader (the two of you are obsessed with each other ok), social media references lol author's notes i'm definitely doing a blue lock version, i'm just seeing if this is a popular premise lol <3 based off this original concept !! these are just silly little drabbles for me to warm up to the idea of writing again haha
౨ৎ TOBIO KAGEYAMA
your fans are speculating: that you and kageyama have broken up. fans are recording footage from you on your latest tour and claim that you're "clearly disassociating" and "somewhere else mentally" when it comes to singing your iconic love songs. you and kageyama have always kept your relationship private because he's not a very open person to begin with, and you don't want to give the media more material to misconstrue. you know that kageyama hates when some random person will annotate your verses on genius lyrics and try to make the claim that your innocent metaphor is you wanting to jump ship and leave kageyama. and you hate how it's your own fans who are making wild accusations of you no longer being with the man all your love songs are about.
you posted: kageyama, with his back turned to the camera so all that fills your camera is the surprisingly broad expanse of his muscular back and shoulders. he's not even flexing, and it's obvious that he's a world-class athlete. he's facing the closet, trying to find a shirt to put on, and it would be a semi-innocent photo, the pinterest-perfect photo inspo for every private not secret relationship out there, except for the fact that there are clearly faint, red lines — scratches — running down his back. you caption the photo with a "monday morning 🤍" (your insane fans spam the comment section to exclaim how they knew you two were still a thing... and to speculate that this photo is somehow an easter egg for an upcoming song/album. well, they're right: you two will always be a thing, and tobio dicked you down so good last night that you could write him a whole album.)
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩
"fuck," the word slips through his gritted teeth, and you can tell that your tobio is still upset about how your fans seem divided. half of them claim no one could ever make them hate tobio (you find those fans to be absolutely adorable), and the other half...
well, the other half are making slideshow posts to audios that go "some boys take a beautiful girl and hide her away from the rest of the world" and the ones that seem to go viral are always the ones that feature you and tobio.
"not hidin' you away." he mutters, never slowing down his thrusts. he admires the expression on your face as he fucks into you, his ego pleased with how receptive you are to his every movement. he has you speared on his cock, your tight little cunt full of him, your eyes getting so adorably teared-up because he's just a little bit too much for you to handle. tobio isn't good with words; he thinks you're the most beautiful girl to exist, but he can't verbalize it. so he just takes in your sweet, fucked-out face, the reaction only he's capable of drawing from you, and it all gets so overwhelming for him.
he has to bury his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your body wash as he continues to bully his cock into your soaked pussy. "why's it bad if i want to keep you all to myself?" he's practically whining, and you think this would be so cute if only you weren't currently chasing after your release. or rather, tobio's forcing you to cum, whether you want to or not. it's not like you can stop him; tobio devotes himself to always ensuring that you finish before him. he likes the satisfaction of knowing only he can take care of you, and he especially likes the way his cock looks with you creaming all over it.
when he gets like this, all you can do is cling to him, your arms wrapped around his muscular build. when he gets rough with his thrusts, when his body gets just the slightest bit sweaty from the exertion (evidence of just how much work he puts into fucking you), you have to dig your manicured nails (the set he paid for) into the skin of his toned back. otherwise, you'd lose your grip, and your hands would slip off.
tobio relishes the slight stinging pain of your nails scratching down his skin. but the scratches aren't enough. he needs to make you cum. when you get so caught up in your climax, you start clawing at him as you lose control. he loves the scratches you leave on him; it's proof that he's yours just as much as you are his.
౨ৎ ATSUMU MIYA
haters are saying: that you're just using atsumu for content. you're a gold digger. you're not genuine. you're not "wifey material." spectators are claiming that atsumu is playing worse than before because he's too "pussywhipped" for you. well, he likes to cheekily admit to you that he is addicted to your pussy, but they're wrong about everything else. obviously. however, the haters are feeling very vindicated whenever they see atsumu hasn't been posting you as much. (you're traveling for a new vlog series on your page, but no one knows.)
he posted: a mirror selfie. which isn't breaking news. atsumu miya always breaks the internet when he posts a mirror selfie because the only thing worse than a hot guy is a hot guy who knows he's hot. no one is a stranger to the sight of a post-workout, sweaty, shirtless atsumu, who flaunts his tight abs and muscular thighs with a steamy mirror selfie. but this photo? this one is going triple platinum. it's going down in history. this selfie is taken in dim lighting; the curtains in the background are drawn shut, he's got one hand gripping his phone (making the phone look tiny in his big hand), and he's got one arm wrapped around you. it's not an innocent hug, though. he's cupping your ass, and the phone in front of his face does nothing to shield his satisfied smirk. you're clad in nothing but lacy lingerie from a designer who loves to sponsor you, and you're clinging to his side, almost like you can't even stand without his support. it's clear that the two of you definitely were... appreciating the work your favorite designer put in when they created that lacy set.
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩
"what do you think?" you're smiling at him, knowing damn well what he's thinking.
atsumu looks up at you, reflexively licking his lips as he takes in the sight of you wearing a new set of lingerie that you just got delivered. it leaves little room for imagination, and the material looks so delicate, atsumu is already thinking about how he'll have to apologize to the designer for ripping it off of you.
"i think I'm the luckiest man alive right now." atsumu is shameless in the way he's admiring you, the way the setting sun still peeks through the curtains, enveloping your body in a delicious golden glow as you inch closer and closer to him.
in a matter of seconds, he's pulling you on top of him, placing wet, sloppy kisses over any centimeter of your skin he can reach. when you make a move to slip off the panties, he protests.
"leave 'em on f'me, baby. please?"
he fucks you with you still wearing the lingerie set. your breasts are spilling out of the bra, and all he did was move your panties to the side so he could stretch you out with his cock.
"fuckin' idiots, tellin' me you're not good enough to marry. i'll show 'em what a good girl you are, right? gonna put a ring on your finger, and make you my wife." he's fucking his cock into you, making sure that your cute cunt knows who it belongs to. "gonna fuck a baby into you, sweetheart. no one's gonna say shit about our family, huh? 'cause i won't let 'em."
your cunt clenches up so nicely with every comment he makes that atsumu knows he has to make all those pussydrunk promises come true.
౨ৎ TETSUROU KUROO
the tabloids are posting: paparazzi photos of you — the socialite daughter of the man who owns the msby black jackals, and jva's promotion division's golden boy, tetsurou kuroo. it's late at night, and the two of you are clearly leaving a party celebrating the success of another eventful volleyball season. you're wearing the iconic ysl heels with a black mini-dress that honestly should be called a micro-dress. your hair is a mess, you're walking like your knees are struggling not to wobble, and walking three steps behind you despite his longer stride is kuroo; his tie is crooked, his cheeks are flushed, and he has a grin that says something like i just fucked one of the richest bratty heiresses in japan, and i left her wanting more. the amount of blind items that are allegedly alluding to you and kuroo are being spread all over tiktok. one reads, "this sports club heiress was seen exiting a party with this semi-known marketing mastermind who works in the sports industry. apparently, they couldn't keep their hands off each other, and no one can recall seeing them together during the party; everyone only caught glimpses of them running away from the festivities together."
you posted: a photo slideshow on instagram of your absolutely iconic outfit from the party, only these photos were clearly taken before the party. your hair is done, your makeup is perfect, and your caption states don't believe everything you read. the last slide is a screenshot of an online headline speculating about your "new man" with a photo of a grinning kuroo from that night. the reason why this makes everyone go insane is because you're no stranger to a scandal — this is, however, the first time you've ever addressed a headline.
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩
"hurry up," you hiss, your eyes darting from left to right as you make sure no one is nowhere near the secluded corridor kuroo somehow managed to find.
"y'know, i thought girls were supposed to like guys who don't blow their loads prematurely." even when he's bullying his cock into your slicked up cunt, savoring the way your sensitive walls are clenching around his dick, tetsurou has a very annoying habit of still sounding entirely in control. for someone who can't keep his hands to himself when it comes to you, he's irritatingly great at playing nonchalant.
but he's just a man, after all. he might tower over you, his large body shielding you from any prying eyes, and he might know your body so well that he can bring you to completion twice (once with his fingers curling against that special spot of yours, and another one so rudely wrung out from you when he slid his cock in your orgasm-recovering, overly sensitive pussy) in just the fifteen minutes he's been toying with you tonight, but you know that he must be feeling something. you saw him shift his pants the moment his eyes met yours from across the room, when his eyes travelled down your body and followed the way your dress emphasized the curvatures of your body.
"if you don't finish right now, i'm not going to let you cum inside." you threaten him, trying to steady your voice as you bite back a moan. it'd be a major issue if the two of you got caught, with the volleyball association's golden boy being buried balls-deep inside a sports team owner's bratty daughter.
with every sharp snap of his hips, kuroo is only forcing more slick to come gushing out of your pussy. he can't even take the time to admire the white ring you left around his cock; he's too focused on chasing after his release because he didn't get to where he's at by not being opportunistic.
"if i cum inside, you have to keep it in your panties the whole night. you wouldn't want that, would you?" he sounds a little breathless now, his pace quickening as his thrusts get sloppier. he's smiling at you, that damn annoying smile that makes you want to roll your eyes or insult him. but your body betrays you. his grin only widens when your pussy tightens up at the idea of having his cum soaking in your panties while you interact with people at this party. a dirty little secret shared only between you two.
he lets out a breathy chuckle at your body's betrayal. "okay, princess. since you want it so badly, i guess i better give it to you."
you could practically cum again the minute you feel the warmth of him finishing inside of you. you're a spoiled brat who gets what she wants, and while you refuse to admit it, you want him. all of him.
and he's going to give it to you.
౨ৎ WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA
the media is going crazy over: the fact that ushijima is the type of person who doesn't clarify anything because he just assumes that everyone can read his mind. he's blunt, sure, but he's not really the type who does much explaining. after the first game of the season, an interviewer asks him if he enjoyed spending the off-season with you, his girlfriend and one of the most beloved, fan-favorite WAGs of all time. ushijima stares straight into the camera as he states in his usual deep, flat rumble of a voice, "the off-season was successful, but she isn't my girlfriend anymore. thank you." and then he just walks off, like he didn't just drop the most insane piece of information ever?
he posted: a photo of an ultrasound that was clearly taken out of his wallet since it's thrown on the table in the background. he's holding it in his left hand, and the overhead lighting is reflected from the silver wedding band he's wearing. now that he's off the court, he's able to wear it. in typical ushijima fashion, there is no caption, but a picture is worth a thousand words. you're not his girlfriend. you're his wife, and soon to be mother of his child.
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩
"mmph — 'toshi!" you squeal out, your calves burning from the stretch as your beloved wakatoshi has your legs bent and spread for him. he's just so big that you'd never be able to handle all of him, and yet, here you are, bent into a mating press every night since the two of you have gotten married. you try to beg him to slow down, but words escape you as he buries himself into your pussy, letting out a deep, guttural groan as the warmth of your cunt coats his cock. there's no better feeling than this.
even if you could request for him to slow down, it wouldn't have mattered or made much of a difference. your husband has a one-track mind. when wakatoshi is set on a goal, it's hard to break his focus until he sees it to the end. and right now, wakatoshi's goal is to fuck a baby into you, to see you round with life because of the seeds he planted.
he's hunched over you, abs tightening and flexing with every sharp inhale of breath he takes. he's gonna fuck himself empty, going to keep filling your cunt with his seed 'til he's shooting blanks. his eyes glance at the ring he put on your finger before returning to admire your blissful expression and the way your body seems to have gone boneless from all the fucking he's had you endure.
"just a little bit longer." he manages to say, before forcing his cock in even deeper. "just have to make sure it takes."
౨ৎ TOORU OIKAWA
everyone is claiming: long distance relationships never last. when oikawa makes the shocking announcement that he is no longer a japanese citizen, everyone immediately wondered what that meant for the future of your relationship. does that mean it's over? officially? if oikawa is leaving behind his hometown, then by default, is he leaving you behind too?
he posted: a photo slideshow, only most of the images were clearly taken by you. the first one is of him driving; the two of you are in his convertible, and he's wearing a white button down with most of the buttons undone. on the stark white of the shirt are kiss marks; the imprint of your lips lined with cherry-red lipstick are all over the material of his shirt and on his freshly-tanned skin. the other photos are of what you two ate for dinner, the sunset from the beach, and a selfie of you two looking more in love than ever. fans are quick to point out the massive hickey on your neck, and tooru tags you in a reply to the top comment that points it out, and he's saying "you missed a spot babe." you reply back, "i ran out of concealer because you gave me too many to cover"
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩
"i missed you," your boyfriend mumbles into your soft skin. tooru can get so clingy when he goes long periods without seeing you, and you indulge him because he's tooru. he's got his face buried in the space between your shoulder and neck, and his breath is warm against your skin as he speaks.
"everyone is saying i'm abandoning you, but that's not true." he whines.
"i know, baby. i don't care." you laugh softly, absentmindedly playing with the soft strands of his hair. he settles into you, and it's almost sweet, until he starts nipping at your skin.
"tooru, what are you doing?" you can't find it in yourself to chastise him too harshly, but you do have to restrain yourself from pulling back.
"jus' want to show everyone that you're still my girl." he peers up at you, licking his lips. "you'll let me do that, won't you?"
tooru bites and sucks at your skin, sharp canines grazing your soft flesh. he sucks at your most sensitive areas while he works his fingers in and out of your gushing cunt. when he pulls his fingers out and holds them up, so the sunlight can shine and really highlight how much of your juices is coating his digits, he smiles. his girl gets this wet just from him marking you up?
as he sucks on his fingers, relishing in the way you taste, he can't help but be happy to know that no matter how far away the two of you are from each other (for now), you're still his girl.
౨ৎ RINTAROU SUNA
your fans are telling you: suna doesn't care about you. suna doesn't put forth any effort into your relationship. suna literally streams on twitch during the off-season yet he can't seem to ever post you?? suna doesn't deserve you. suna—
suna is a lot of things, but nothing like the deadbeat, ashamed boyfriend allegations. in fact, all your well-meaning fans are so far off on how he treats you that you and him get a good laugh from the outrageous conclusions they've jumped to.
you posted: a photo of rintarou with his head on your lap, and you've got your fingers playing with his hair. it's a sweet photo, really. except for the fact that you decided to pair it with an audio that's a snippet of a song that goes "he's so pretty when he goes down on me" and a caption that reads this song is so relatable 🤍
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩
anyone who thinks rintarou is a selfish lover, a lazy lover, someone who merely tolerates you or is ashamed to be with you... they clearly don't know either of you very well.
because even when he's exhausted from practice, rintarou comes home craving you. craving your sweetness, your warmth, your love — and your pussy. he's obsessed. rintarou suna loves to eat you out, and he does it with such passion, such enthusiasm, that it's hard to refuse him, even if he's been going at it for the past hour.
your juices are leaving a stain on the bedsheets, and your slick is coating your inner thighs. it doesn't help that rintarou is messy with his technique. he needs your legs spread for him, granting him easy access for him to just dig in. he's still in his practice jersey, and when he feels your grip loosening from the strands of hair you're tugging at, he'll slow down his pace, calming down to just tiny kitten licks while he peers up at you.
your head is thrown back in pleasure, and your hips have a mind of their own as they still jut forward, as if trying to bring your cunt impossibly closer to him. no need for that, really, seeing as how he craves to bury himself in your warmth, to suck on your cute little clit and have you humming all over his tongue.
"rinnie." you whine out, still subconsciously bucking up your hips. he smiles before resuming his original ministrations, gluttonous and greedy with how sloppy and hungry he is with you. if you're still capable of talking, then you're not too fucked out to not allow him to get his fill.
Kuroo with shy!reader
Pairing:Kuroo x gn! reader
A/n: just in the mood to write for our science nerd
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Ohhh okay let's start
Kuroo is an extrovert so most likely for you two to get together he is gonna be the one to make the first move
He is the type guy to just come up and start flirting with you and act all confined, but if you flirt back when you two are alone he'll go like o.0 boy will be so frustrated
I feel like you are probably good friends with Kenma and often stick with these two
Speaking of Kenma even if you don't tell him you like his best friend he WILL know. Kenma is observant so he'll notice, but won't say a word about it.
Kuroo will drag you to watch his practice every single time he can. Yk he is like the captain, the one who is in control there😆
He will also want you to come to his matches. You are his lucky charm what did you expect?
Wearing his jersey>>>>
He'll introduce you to his teammates even if takes times, because of your personality, but he won't rush you.
Wouldn't make you go to crowded places if you don't feel like it. He wouldn't push you to do anything you want
His arm will be around your waist while walking together no questions needed. He likes you close to him
I don't really know if he is really into PDA, but he'll do the normals like pecks, huggs, holding hands (if you are okay with these things ofc)
Again study dates>>>>
Matching things so everyone knows you're his💟
The guy will post you on every social media after asking you to do so.
© mariaace 2024 do not modify, plagiarize, copy or claim any of my works!
“NEEDIN’ A RIDE REAL, REAL BAD!!”
HAIKYUU + THIGH RIDING ᯓ⭑ ft. bokuto koutarou, daichi sawamura, kuroo tetsurou, miya atsumu, sakusa kiyoomi, & ushijima wakatoshi x f!reader
contains : explicit smut (18+), thigh riding / dry humping, phone call (keep quiet n ride!), risky sex / very mild: cw exhibitionism, squirting, teasing, praise, kissing <3, hair pulling (you to them), orgasm denial, usage of pet names — 2.9K WC
note : yayya my first haikyuu post on here ! this is my response to this thirst here ૮꒰˶˃ ^ ˂̵˵꒱ა hope u all have fun reading this <3
KUROO TETSUROU.
“whoa, whoa,” kuroo coos through a breathy chuckle, big hand wrapping around your hip to hold you still against his thigh, “easy now, pretty thing. let’s pause for a second, okay?”
the sound of your protests and whines almost make him cave right off the bat. “…tetsu..” you sulk, corners of your lips curling into a sad pout even when he gives you an apologetic smile before he’s jutting his thumb to gesture at his phone, the irritating melody of his ringtone repeating itself as the screen lights up, “incoming call from: kenma!” displayed across the top.
“sorryy,” he huffs, “can’t. this one’s important.”
he’s giving you a reassuring squeeze around your hip, a silent reminder that he’ll give you everything you need in a few minutes, but you’re not having any of that. your arms come to stubbornly wrap around his neck before he can pick up the call, sugar sweet voice already making pleas only a second later.
on any other given day, you would have let him take the call with only an irritated huff— just not today. not with the way you can already feel your orgasm running away from you. “p-please, please tetsu,” you sob, “i was so close. can’t wait any longer.. please?”
his eyes are widening a bit at the unfamiliar desperation in your voice, grunt slipping out when his cock reacts to it too, twitching and slapping against his stomach— a reoccurring habit that seems to only occur whenever you give him that needy little look of yours.
“awww,” he whispers, and you barely catch the strain in his voice, “well i’m sorry for ruining your moment, angel.”
you’re practically purring as soon as you feel his hand come to lightly cup your jaw, immediately melting into his touch as he smiles in response. “ah— fine,” kuroo caves as soon as he sees your hands coming to cutely hold his wrist in place, “guess i can’t stop you if you need it so bad. but listen here..”
his thumb moves from your jaw, digit pressing into your bottom lip to angle your face at him. the look you’re giving him is just to die for, pouty lips soft against his thumb and you’re peering up at him through those pleady eyes— as if there was even a single chance that kuroo would ever deny his pretty girl of an orgasm in the first place.
“nothing crazy. deal? kenma hears and..” he presses a little harder into your lip, watching the way your tongue comes to swipe at the invasive finger, “me and you? are never hearing the end of it.”
you’re swiftly nodding as soon as the words register, hands coming to rest on the muscles of his shoulders as you resume your movement the next second, gasping at the way your clit catches against his thigh. “kenma?” you hear him hum, tucking his phone between his cheek and shoulder— quick and casual.
maybe too casual.
“mmm,” his eyes flicker back towards you when you take in a sharp inhale, “so it’s about that. you sure you don’t wanna meet up to go over it?”
a loud gasp slips out from you when he abruptly grabs you by your waist, and your hands slam over your mouth, kuroo tensing beneath you. “…hm? yeah, i’m listening,” he chuckles, regaining his composure in an instant as he starts to rock you back and forth against his leg— and fast.
the roughness has your face contorting, nails digging deep into his shoulders as you try and resist the strong hands guiding you back and forth— try and slow him down a bit, delay your oncoming orgasm by even second if anything at all. you hadn’t expected it to come back so fast, and.. you both knew good and well that you weren’t gonna be able to stay quiet.
you give him a look, something resembling your best attempt at a glare, but he’s ignoring it— casually chatting with kenma about something you can’t quite catch. you’re only left to bite your lip, eyebrows deeply furrowed as you desperately fight the knot tightening inside your belly, thighs clamping against his own as he flexes his quad straight into you.
“oh,” kuroo says, hand leaving your waist to pick up his phone again, finger hovering over the ‘mute’ button, and your body is falling limp onto his chest, hands balancing yourself on him as you peer up at him through tired eyes and a heavy pant. “actually..”
“..looks like i got a bit of a problem to take care of here first.” he adds, “so give me a minute, yeah?”
MIYA ATSUMU.
“gonna have to keep that pretty voice of yours down,” atsumu’s lips brush against the shell of your ear, big hands tight around your hips as he drags you up and down his thigh, “or ‘samu’s gonna hear ya.”
your hips stutter against his leg, drawing a sharp gasp from you- and he curses under his breath. osamu would be back any second now, and yet he’s currently got you seated on him, your lounge shorts pulled to the side so he can draw one quick orgasm out of you before the three of you head out for dinner.
because you— atsumu’s impatient lil bunny, or so he calls you, just couldn’t wait until after the dinner to get a quick treat.
“‘m trying,” you whisper, voice breathless and whiny, and you tighten your embrace around his middle, burying your face deep into the fabric of his sweater. “feels ‘s good… so good— need more..”
“i know, i know— later, yeah?” he sounds unsteady from how roughly he’s moving you against him, muscles of his thigh flexing and hardening underneath you. “gonna give it to ya real good. stuff ya nice and full. how’s that sound, dirty girl?”
you want that.
you know exactly how easy it’d be for him to get you gushing underneath his cock if it weren’t for your insistence on him not cumming. and well.. it kind of made sense to him— considering how your last creampie went. his mind thinks back to how you looked with his cum dribbling down your thighs as you nervously clamped them together, and how no one seemed to noticed the juices dripping into a neat little puddle beneath you.
it’d be so easy— he’s got you all mapped out and knows you like the back of his hand. he could just push those pretty thighs of yours up to your face, hold them nice and still as he pummels the deep spot inside you that has you chanting his name over and over, and your cunt would be gushing right after that.
“‘tsumu,” you choke out, tightly latching onto him like a koala, “‘m gonna cum..!”
“you are, aren’t ya? i can tell,” he groans, and his thigh bounces up into you, mumbling a curse under his breath when you squeal at the roughness, “show me that pretty face when you’re lettin’ go.”
a couple more rolls of your hips and you’re gasping and stuttering against him, atsumu pulling you just right against his thigh as your eyes slam shut, knot inside you violently snapping in an instant as you tremble underneath him, your mouth falling open in a silent scream.
“that’s my fuckin’ girl,” his voice comes out deep and breathy, hands tightening their grip on you, “ride it all out f’ me, rela- oh s-shit.”
your eyes widen as soon as the sound of footsteps registers in your mind, and your head swiftly turns back to see that atsumu’s already pulling your shorts back over your cunt, your juices immediately soaking through the fabric as he holds you flush against his chest, big hand cradling the back of your head.
“‘tsumu..!” you whisper, but he’s shushing you with gentle strokes along the back of your head.
“what, ‘samu?” he calls out, his mind putting together a silent prayer that his twin was not about to open the door.
his prayers go unanswered.
“you two ready yet?” osamu’s asking as soon as he flings open the door, the knob accidentally slipping through his grasp, and your door crashes against your wall with a loud thud a second later.
you faintly here him mutter an “oops” before his eyes are finally falling on you, brow raising at the sight of you clinging tightly onto atsumu as your chest heaves up and down.
SAKUSA KIYOOMI.
“what,” you can feel your concentration falter as soon as the sound of sakusa’s voice reaches you, and you’re immediately wiping at the frustrated tears that have begun to collect along your lashes, “can’t cum like that?”
you’re quick to shake your head, and he doesn’t miss the slight tremble to your lips. cute.
sakusa had his doubts about this idea of yours from the start. he knows how needy you always get— knows that despite that innocent face of yours, your cunt’s anything but. it’s greedy. something like this was probably not gonna be able to get you to finish, and he knew that.. but a part of him was just curious.
what he wasn’t expecting, however, was to see you this frustrated. your chest is rising up and down with each angry pant, arm coming to rub at your nose from the occasional sniffle after being denied orgasm after orgasm.
and him? he’s never felt such a strong ache before. the dark spot on his shorts are a tell-tale sign that he’s been leaking with pre-cum, and he can practically feel it starting to drip down his cock. neither of you were doing so well, and if he was being honest, he’s on the verge of flipping you over and putting you in a mating press— but the small voice inside him wants to see you come undone on his thighs. badly.
he’s just gotta see how you look.
“need your cock, omi,” you mumble, rising onto your knees to scoot further up, but he’s stopping you only a second later. “omi? why..?”
“no,” he says flatly, “you don’t.”
“i do!” you’re protesting immediately after, hands balancing on his shoulders, “can’t finish without it— ah!”
you yell when he’s roughly pulling you back down, his quad flexing as soon as your cunt makes contact with his leg. the hands around your hips are tight, and sakusa’s setting a rhythm only a moment later, keeping the muscles of his legs firm and flexed to better rub against your clit.
“w-wait!” you’re stammering, whining straight into his ear as you frantically latch onto him. he lets you bury your face into the crook of his neck as he works you closer to your high, forcing you into a mind-numbing pace to have you flying right off the edge in a few more seconds.
“you can— don’t fight it,” his voice comes out as a deep grunt, a result of his dragged out attempts at ignoring the borderline painful throb of his cock, and oh- he was so going to take you in a mating press after this. the second you’re finished gushing, he was gonna flip you over and finally rid himself this irritating ache.
“omi!” you sob, eyes clenching shut as your hips start to stutter, and he can feel you trembling underneath his hands. “omi.. o-omi— ‘m close,” and he only responds by roughly pressing his thigh up against you, thick muscle hitting your clit just right as you choke out a scream, finally gushing all over his thighs.
“see?” he exhales, breath hitching in his throat when your nails dig deep into his back, his hands slowly moving you up and down to ride out your high.
“you can.”
DAICHI SAWAMURA.
“feeling good, huh? don’t try to fight it.”
daichi grunts when you tug at his hair a little harder, face buried deep into his front as you desperately hump his leg. he’s gentle with you, strong hands guiding you up and down his leg, but he’d be lying if he said his patience wasn’t starting to wear thin.
the sweet nothings he’s been whispering into your ear this entire time are starting to sound a lot less like cooing and a lot more like grunting.
he couldn’t help it. he can feel you so so vividly, feel your juices dripping down the sides of his thigh and hear you moaning straight into his chest. you were soaked through and through, and it’s taking everything in him to stay patient and let you have this.
“there you go,” he’s praising you when you grind against him particularly hard, ignoring the way his shorts are feeling painfully tight around his cock. “just like that— move exactly like that.”
“daichi,” you whine, “‘m getting so close— feels so good.”
“yeah?” he exhales deeply, and the way his cock twitches suddenly has him groaning, hands squeezing a bit too hard against your hips as you wince. “daichi..?”
“oops, sorry princess,” he’s clenching his jaw, giving you a weak smile as you wrap your arms around him, “that’s my bad. don’t mind me, okay? just.. worry about yourself— this is all about you right now.”
USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI.
you weren’t as subtle as you thought.
his legs just looked so strong, so perfect to sit on, and you couldn’t help yourself. he didn’t seem to think too much of it when you first sat a little lower than you usually did, straddling his mid thigh as he flipped through another manga that tendou had lent him earlier that week.
just subtle movements up and down his thigh was your original plan, but it didn’t take very long for him to catch on.
“what are you doing?” ushijima’s voice has you jolting from where you’re seated on his left thigh, his gaze now on you and the way you’re frantically waving your arms around in defense, barely able to stammer out a “n-nothing!”
you just barely catch the way his eyebrow raises in suspicion. it has you moving off him the next second, but he’s tossing aside the manga, big and strong hands easily wrapping around your hips to keep you planted on him.
“don’t leave yet,” he says, stern and flat, but you catch the hint of curiosity swirling deep in his eyes.
the familiar heat of embarrassment is flooding to your face in an instant, and your head hangs low. “s-sorry, toshi,” you mumble, fiddling with the hem of your shirt, “your thighs just looked so big, just wanted to… ride them.”
it’s silent.
you work up the courage to snack a glance at him again, now faced with the sight of his head tilted a bit, as if confused by your confession. “b-but!” you continue, mouth already running off on its own, “forget it, okay? it might be weird— toshi..?”
it was just one little flex of his quad, one that had the muscle pushing up against your clit, but the way his name rolled off your tongue sounded sinful. you can feel his grip around your hips tightening a bit, and he’s leaning in to close the gap between the two of you.
“wouldn’t it feel better like this?”
BOKUTO KOUTAROU.
it started off with an accidental brush of his knee against your cunt.
bokuto had always been eager with his kisses. he had you pinned down on his mattress, body hovering over yours as he moved his lips against your own— and he hadn’t even noticed anything different until he heard you suddenly moan into his mouth. he’s pulling away the next second, eyes wide as he tries gauging your reaction again, bringing his knee back to rub over your cunt. and… just like clockwork, your eyes clench shut and you choke back a gasp.
he swallows thickly.
only five minutes later and he’s got you seated on his thigh, moving you back and forth with a needy grunt, his free hand squeezing your cheeks as he forces you to look up at him. “don’t look away, ‘kay?”
“you look pretty— pretty like that. i just wanna see.”
the look on his face isn’t much different from yours. his mouth is slightly parted in desperate pants, deep red spreading across his cheeks at the sight of you feeling good on his leg. he’s swallowing deeply before he takes in a sharp inhale right after, already pussy drunk and his dick hasn’t even touched you yet.
the way your face starts to contort when you’re rapidly approaching your high has him just hoping he doesn’t end up finishing untouched. it’s throbbing— absolutely aching with need and as soon as you start sobbing his name, he can feel his patience shatter into thin pieces.
you let out a loud yelp as soon as your back hits the mattress, bokuto looming over you with a strained look on his face as he rushes to line his tip up with your hole. “s-sorry,” his voice is just above a growl, “i can’t help it after all. it’s okay though, right? gonna make you feel good.”
MIGHT LET YOU MAKE ME JUNO ! — HAIKYUU
⊹₊˚. featuring timeskip! miya atsumu, miya osamu, kuroo tetsurō, iwaizumi hajime, & suna rintarou tryin’ to knock up their pretty wife !
warnings ★ 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, breeding, cuddlefucking, doggy, talk of kids & pregnancy, fluff, creampies, shower sex, minor cockwarming, squirting, full nelson, mirror sex, mention of lactation, mating press, cum in panties (offscreen), not proofread.
xoxo, juno ★ my namesake?! hehe, cheers to the surviving haikyuu fuckers on my blog <33 ty for your patience!! as always, send in some asks/reblog if you enjoyed, i love reading comments/tags
— MIYA ATSUMU
“go ahead ‘n slut yerself out all over my cock, baby.. fuuuck, jus’ like that.”
atsumu’s lips part around a needy moan, jaw hanging slackly in some kind of disbelief. after such a lengthy, tiring day, he found himself trudging into your shared bathroom to greet you.
he’d gotten hard in seconds, seeing your tits pressed against the glass door as well as your face, lidded eyes and cute pout enticing him to come join you. when he got onto his knees to get you ready, you’d bent over and tossed him a knowing smirk over your shoulder.
“lemme see that ass move again.. shit, ‘s perfect. yer perfect.” you giggle, throwing your ass back onto his cock, eyes rolling back when his tip kisses your cervix just right, sending sparks of pleasure right through your veins.
“tsumu, this isn’t all that fun,” you huff, the wild need for him to truly ruin you growing by the second. “wan’ you to fuck me, and make me yours.”
“baby, yer already mine,” atsumu lands a slap on your wet asscheek, startling you enough for your legs to spread further. “good girl,” he praises, hushed and under his breath. he reaches upwards and pulls the shower head down, pushes it into your hand and changes the setting.
“use this on yer clit, ‘kay? when yer feelin’ like ya wanna cum, don’t. hold it ‘n we’ll cum at the same time, yeah baby?”
you nod, and he smacks your ass hard, leaning backwards. atsumu pushes a hand through soaked gold strands, chuckling lowly although his voice has a serious edge to it. “‘s not how we say yes, is it?”
“y-yes, tsumu. at the same time.”
he draws his hips back, then finds himself advancing forward brutally. he doesn’t think about anything beside you — you, you, you. with the scent of your body wash tangling in the hot air, the beautiful curves and slopes of your body, the noises you make for him only.
your chest heaves when the steady spray of the shower head soon reaches your clit, immediately proving to be overwhelming and intense paired with him fucking you.
“so god damn tight,” atsumu hisses, nails digging crescent moons into the plush skin of your hips as his own collide with your ass. the bathroom is full of steam and the rhythmic clap of skin against skin — it’s hard to keep from trembling with how good everything feels, all over.
frantic panting cuts through the sound of your whimpers as atsumu feels himself nearing his peak. it’s nasty, downright filthy, the way your nails drag down the wall tiles as you desperately hump your ass back into him.
gasps of your name and affectionate nicknames fall from his lips like a sacred prayer, blending into a whiny harmony as atsumu’s thrusts grow rougher.
“baby,” he chokes, voice tight. “ya better be close, can barely last.”
“tsumu, cum inside me,” you beg, skin burning and pussy squeezing uncontrollably, squelching growing louder. “p-please, i can’t— i’m gonna cum, ‘m gonna—” your body tenses, and the shower head falls to the floor with a clunk that neither of you register.
luckily atsumu looks down at the right moment, sees you squirt, pussy gushing onto his pelvis. as if your back arching and your clenching pussy wasn’t enough, he ends up cumming too hard, ribbons of white gushing deep into your awaiting pussy.
“fuckkk,” he groans, overstimulation setting in way too quickly and causing him to pull halfway out of your fluttering cunt.
“no, tsumu,” is all you can heave out, pushing back hard enough to send him into the wall behind him, muscled back hitting the tiles as he lets out a startled oomph. “wanna keep it inside, feels so good.”
— MIYA OSAMU
“samu,” you mumble into his lips, tossing a leg over his hip. he grunts, nose nudging your cheek as he pulls back. “yeah? what’s on yer mind, angel?”
“had a dream about a baby,” the words are spoken softly, and osamu’s fingers lightly graze your chin as he makes you look up at him. “i know it’s kinda stupid, but it was so..” your voice trails off sheepishly and there’s a pause before you admit, “you were such a good dad, samu, ‘n so sexy too.”
your bare bodies are bathed in the morning sunlight, warm and comforting as it peeks in through the curtains. this is the perfect moment with him, skin to skin, his cock still inside you as you kiss and talk about dreams of the future.
in his chest, feelings stir and ideas come to life in his head; osamu presses his hips forward with a hushed moan.
“well, i’ll give ya a baby, angel,” large hands smooth over your hips as he helps you turn away from him; then they pull you close, grabbing at your tits and tugging your nipples between his fingers.
“samu,” you sigh, words fading into a content moan as you feel his hips draw back, then advance forward, against your ass. “i want you to fill me up, give me everything.”
“only if ya take it all,” osamu huffs, tucking his face into your shoulder and closing his eyes as he starts to fuck his cock into you deeply. the thick tip kisses your sweet spot over and over, and if that wasn’t already overwhelming enough, your hand wanders towards your swollen clit.
somehow, osamu’s faster than you, releasing one of your tits and swatting away your hand before he’s finding your clit with his index finger and rubbing it in messy circles.
“s-samu, fuck— jus’ like that, don’t stop!”
your back arches against him, hips twisting as a heat spreads through your veins, fiery and intense in the best ways possible. the movement of your body and then the frantic clenching of your pussy is too intense for him; sharp whines escape his throat, muffled as osamu bites into your shoulder desperately.
“i-i— shit, ‘m gonna fill you up,” is all you can make out from his rushed mumbling, and you turn your head quickly, desperate for his lips.
“kiss me, samu. kiss me as you cum inside, please.”
it’s as though the words break him — his face twists as he kisses you, whole body tensing. he presses his cock deep, thickening and throbbing before he’s gushing cum and can’t seem to stop.
“ah, fuck,” he tosses his head back, fingers scrabbling at your nipples as his chest heaves against your back, heart pounding steadily.
you cum with a whine, grinding down on his cock in an effort to get him impossibly deeper. as you ride out your highs together, trembling deliciously, he can’t help but dissolve into giggles of pure happiness.
“angel, ya got that baby for sure, jus’ like ya wanted, hm? ah, i can’t wait for a mini-me or a mini-ya. yer gonna be the prettiest mom, swear.”
— KUROO TETSURŌ
“fuck, babe. you’ve got no idea about what i saw today,” tetsurō huffs, warm breath fanning over your tits as they bounce, controlled by your bra.
spices clatter as tetsurō sweeps his arm across the kitchen counter behind you, clearing the space so you can lean back a little easier. his grip on your thighs doesn’t waver, nor does the ruthless tempo of his hips.
“tetsu, what’d you see?” you gasp, tears threatening to pour over your waterline.
“well, i saw this family,” he grunts, thrusting into you particularly hard now that he’s recalling the memory. “the dad had their kid on his shoulders, and the mom was pregnant. they looked so happy, and it made me think of you.”
“is that so?” you ask, spreading your legs impossibly wider as an invitation. you bite your lower lip, rolling your hips against his in an effort to get his cock deeper.
“tetsu,” he raises his eyes from the mess between your legs to your face, earnest and flushed. “kiss me, baby.”
tetsurō obliges, lets you tug him forward by the chin, mesh his lips with yours. it’s warm and sweet, the aftertaste of the dessert you’d been making as his surprise for when he’d come home. your tongue slips between plush, parted lips and moves with his gently, quite a contrast from the rough way he’s fucking you.
“ah, shit,” he moans, struggling to kiss you back when he feels your sticky walls clenching down on his too sensitive cock.
tetsurō leans forward and buries his flushed face in your shoulder, kissing the tender skin a few times before nipping it and then finally biting down into your shoulder.
he practically loses it when you wrap your legs around his back, heels digging into muscle as you push him forward. in a hushed tone and into his ear, you say sweetly, “tetsu, fuck a baby into me.”
“oh, i fucking will, princess.”
although, despite his rough words, he’s wheezing and whining every now and then into your shoulder, hoping it muffles his sounds.
your hand slides up his neck and tangles into dark tufts of hair, pulling tight as your own orgasm approaches. your pleasure mixes with his own, and just before the knot in your belly snaps, you feel a strong pulsing deep within your pussy.
he groans loudly, burying his cock deep just as it starts to gush, painting your walls white. your nails dig hard into his scalp and the sting of pain only seems to make him get a little more vocal.
tetsurō pants into your neck, trying to find his bearings now that his limbs feel like jelly.
“hold me?”
— IWAIZUMI HAJIME
“h-haji, this was a good call..”
“oh yeah?” hajime’s voice rumbles in his chest, strong and steady against your back as he keeps your legs wide open. “have we ever tried this one?”
“i don’t think so, but we definitely will in the future.”
“feels that good, princess?” hajime chuckles, eyeing your reflections in the mirror mounted across the bed. for a moment, he considers the two of you puzzle pieces — he sees that his cock fits snugly inside you, and the thought that you may be made for each other briefly crosses his mind.
“of course it does,” a sheen of sweat glimmers on your face, skin glowing beautifully in the mirror. “god, hajime, y-you’re so deep..”
he notices your eyes falling shut, head tipping back, and he raises his hand to lightly smack your cheek. “mm, princess, gotta keep watching. i want you to see yourself cum, alright?”
“fine,” you huff, feet dangling in the air and bouncing every which way as he fucks into you, heavy balls smacking your pussy with each stroke.
“what made you wanna try this?” you ask, knowing you should save the question for later, but you’re too curious not to ask. why would your husband come home someday and randomly want to try a new position you’d never heard of?
“well, you know..” in the mirror, you catch the flush on his tanned cheeks. “we’ve both caught the fever recently, and this is a solid position for makin’ babies.”
you gasp sharply when hajime turns his hips ever so slightly, and the resulting sensation causes pressure to build in your pelvis. “shit— right there, haji, just like that..”
he grunts, body stiffening as he tightly holds you in place and fucks into you like it’s the last time you’ll ever be like this together.
“wanna get you pregnant,” hajime groans, abs flexing with the effort of maintaining his merciless pace, “i wanna—shit—wanna breed you.”
“you want it that bad?” you breathe, just barely keeping your eyes open and focusing on your bouncing reflection. “fuck me full, then, haji.”
hajime doesn’t question it, thinks of you with a swollen belly and milky tits all for him to hold and take care of. you, with your glowing skin and beautiful body from all the pregnancy hormones.
the idea of it all is too much to bear, not to mention cumming deep inside your cunt, this time with the intent to breed.
he can’t even muster the words to warn you that he’s cumming as hard as he is; after a choked, tight groan, he falls silent and rocks his hips into you.
“fuck it deep, haji,” you whisper, on the edge yourself. obedient and too far gone in his fantasy, he does exactly what you ask, whining very quietly from the sensitivity.
shaking on top of him and watching the reflections in the mirror, you cum hard, dissolving into unmatched pleasure. and you’re thankful you keep your eyes open, moaning at the very sight— hajime doesn’t even pull out, he’s still pushing his cock in and out of you, but cum races from your cunt in thick white rivulets.
“i’m trying,” he huffs, sensitive when he glances up and notices how intently you’re watching the mirror. his cheeks flush lightly when you both notice that most of his cum ends up dripping down his balls and out of you.
“don’t worry, princess. i’ll cum however many times it takes, sound good?”
— SUNA RINTAROU
“you want a few brats? oh, i just felt your pussy squeeze up. ‘s what you want, huh?” rintarou bites, harshness of his thrusts drawing whimper after whimper from your kiss-swollen lips.
“i want it, rin,” you feel one of his palms smoothing over the plushness of your lower stomach, just above your pelvis. “w-what’re you doing?”
he laughs at your stutter, keeps your legs steady over his shoulders. rintarou draws his hips back, leaving just his tip inside your quivering pussy. then, he presses down on your lower stomach and slides in, adding more pressure with each inch.
“rintarou!” you wheeze, jerking your hips to the side in a pathetic attempt to run away from the overwhelming pleasure he gives you with every movement, big or small.
“nuh uh, pretty girl,” his free hand grabs ahold of you tightly, tugs you towards him and then settles to rest on your neck. rintarou’s fingers are loose on each side of your throat, hand placed there in a demonstration of control. but what’s the point of that, when he’s already made it clear by hoisting your legs over his shoulders and folding you in half?
“you’ll take it, all of it.”
“but ‘m sensitive, i’ve cum too many times,” you can’t even recall a number or remember how long he’s been fucking you like this.
you’re both sticky with sweat, your thighs stained white with dried cum from previous rounds and marked with love bites he’d given you in his excitement to get a taste of your pussy.
it’s so fucking messy because rintarou’s the one who can’t stop asking to eat you out and push the cum back inside; you always say yes, then cum until you’re dizzy and can’t see straight.
you taste yourself from earlier on the corners of his lips when he bends forward and gives you a chaste kiss. “l-last time, okay? i’ll give you your brats, pretty girl.”
the sweet pout on your lips that’s quickly replaced with something else and wail of his name that leaves you when he starts jackhammering your pussy turns him on to the max.
incoherent babbling of what he’ll give you and how good you feel blend together, and before you can fully register it, rintarou’s folding forward with a deep groan. “shit, i’m gonna cum so fucking hard, i—”
he shuts up and gives you a few more thrusts before he’s pushing deep and cumming — he’s not done when he pulls out and covers your pussy in cum.
“r-rin, keep it inside,” you whine sadly, watching as he collects it on his tip and then plunges it back inside.
“jus’ needed some extra lube,” he says coolly, but he really just wants to cum all over you. “how’s it feel inside, pretty baby?”
“like i need some more.”
rintarou laughs at the way you turn away, cheeks hot in embarrassment because you were the one who wanted a break. “we are going out later, hm?”
your nod makes him smile, green eyes crinkling at the corners. “how about i cum in your panties and you walk around with ‘em?”
'KUROO'
the black marker squeaks faintly against the plastic cup as you carefully draw out the same five letters that you've written nearly every shift for the past two weeks.
as you go through the motions of making the sugary, pink drink once again, your gaze strays to the tall, handsome man on the other side of the counter. he drags a hand through his messy black hair, smiling down at his phone.
"it's not for me," he says every time he orders the same exact drink with an embarrassed wince, tossing money in the tip jar while you count out his change.
sometimes, when you're working alone, he leans an elbow on the counter and asks you how your day is going. when it's busy, he's quieter save for the conspiratorial looks you incidentally share with him between transactions with difficult customers.
it's a little pathetic—just how badly you look forward to seeing him every day now. how you find yourself longingly gazing at the clock, waiting for 4 o'clock to hit and nearly pacing with bated breath to see if he'll show.
it's pathetic, because you're just the barista making the drink that he comes and orders for his girlfriend every day.
"UNCLE KUROO!"
something small and colorful zips by out of the corner of your eye, and you look up just in time to see a child go barrelling into kuroo's legs.
another man with silver hair who looks to be around the same age as kuroo comes jogging in behind her. "sorry, bro. i told her we had to wait outside."
the little girl pouts, tugging insistently on kuroo's pants. "uncle kuroo, i changed my mind. i'm tired of the pink drink. no more pink! i want chocolate!"
oh.
so it wasn't for his—
his friend looks between the two of you suddenly, something that could be considered borderline smug creeping across his face. "so this is why you—"
"—CHOCOLATE, uncle kuroo!"
kuroo sighs, running a hand over his face before he offers you an apologetic, if not slightly embarrassed, smile.
Hii sweetie, hope you're having a great day! Can I request some make up sex with Suna or Osamu?🤲 Thank you sm, I love your works btw<3
FUCK IT BETTER ☆ HAIKYUU
⊹₊˚. apologies after an argument aren’t usually spoken in words with miya atsumu, miya osamu, kuroo tetsurou, or suna rintarou.
warnings ★ 18+ content — mdni, f! reader, everyone is timeskip, rough sex, pussy slapping, choking, public sex, creampie, mild bondage, prone bone, edging
xoxo, juno ★ thank you so much!! i hope you’re having a great day too & i enjoyed writing this very much lol <3
— MIYA ATSUMU
“wanted ta run yer fuckin’ mouth, didn’t you?” you tearfully gasp at atsumu’s words, body jolting as his palm comes down briskly against your sobbing cunt.
“t-tsumu, i’m sorry,” you whine, mouth falling open at the second slap. your clit stings, pain and pleasure coursing through each and every one of your veins. “please, please let me cum.”
he practically barks out a laugh at your pathetic request, “ya expect me to give ya what ya want by bein’ that fuckin’ quiet?”
here you are, legs spread and aching from how long it’s been being countlessly denied your orgasm. earlier on, you and atsumu had gotten into a spat, shouting at one another over a simple misunderstanding. he’d tried to help you understand the issue before it had escalated into a shouting match, but you had been too stubborn to hear him out. now, hours later, you’re laid out on the bed, paying the price for all the shit you’d said to him.
“use your words,” atsumu bites, jeering you on with another merciless slap. when he lifts his hand, a glossy string of wetness connects your pussy to his palm. “‘m listenin’, baby. speak now or forever hold yer orgasm.”
“haa, fuck,” you curse, hips jerking lamely. “i’m sorry for earlier, i really am! b-but please, it hurts so bad.” the corners of his lips curl into a wicked smile at the way your voice desperately cracks.
“can’t hear ya,” he shrugs, ghosting his fingers over the tender skin of your inner thighs with an annoying huff. “gotta be louder for me, mhm.”
you’ve got no other choice.
“atsumu, please,” your voice is entirely choked and nothing but feeble as you beg, “i need to cum on your tongue, i-i really do..”
“that’s a good girl,” the praise rolls off his tongue and he smirks at your submission, then carefully lowers his head to your quivering cunt. you’re nothing less than soaked, ready to make a mess all over.
“just like that,” your back bows off the bed, eyes rolling back into the depths of your skull. “ah, ah shit, don’t stop, don’t stop!”
vibrations resonate through your entire core when he chuckles against you, sucking on your clit while he nudges two large fingers against your hole. “gonna open up f’me, baby?”
“always,” is your blissed out answer, hips lifting in an attempt to get some more stimulation. atsumu’s rock hard and rutting into the bed every now and then, but he ultimately decides that making you cum or not is more important.
“that’s my girl,” he coos as he stretches you out on his fingers, pushing into your g-spot and pulling whines from your lips. “this what ya wanted?”
“‘s not enough, tsumu, i need you to fuck me.”
“oh, really?” atsumu purrs, spitting right onto your clit, satisfied as he watches the glob roll down your cunt and onto his slick fingers.
“yes, really,” you cry impatiently, and he finally gives in. just the first heady drag of his tongue against your clit timed with the curl of his thick fingers ignites heat throughout your entire body. your tired legs tremble, wanting nothing more than to give out and collapse inwards — instead, you throw them over his shoulders, thighs squeezing on either side of his head.
brown eyes open and atsumu looks up at you while he lavishes your cunt with attention, cheeks pink and shiny in the low light of the bedroom.
“perfect, ‘s perfect, tsumu.”
slowly, you card your fingers through his blonde hair and nudge him closer, hips lifting and chasing his tongue.
“easy, easy,” his voice is low and smooth as he drinks you in like he hasn’t had water for days, “soon enough, ya brat.”
your heart thrums in your chest, practically bouncing around your ribcage as heat courses through your body and pools in your tummy. tears prick at the corner of your eyes and your breath comes in quick, little puffs.
“mmm, tsumu,” you whimper, thighs clenching around his head; he only speeds up his pace at your tone, knowing what’s sure to come next. “o-oh, ‘m gonna cum, ‘m so close,”
the unspoken please fills the space between each of your frantic words, and atsumu nods against you, eyes locking onto yours. he thinks you look nothing less than beautiful coming apart on his tongue and thrashing on the bed, his name falling from your lips like a sacred prayer.
“‘m cumming, ‘m cumming!” one last lick and you’re letting out a sob as you finally fall over the edge into sheer ecstasy, body completely jackknifing as you sit up and fully bend forward, leaning over him.
“tsumu, tsumu,” euphoric tears cascade down your face, gathering at your chin before they fall onto the back of his neck. he’s still licking and fingering you through it, pumping into your spasming cunt now rather than curling his fingers deep.
“ah, shit,” you gasp sharply, your high lost and replaced with the mix of pain and pleasure from overstimulation. quickly, you scoot your body back, legs falling away lamely as you pull yourself backwards
“nuh uh,” you hear, and you know he’s fully pussy drunk by the way he grips the skin of your ass so hard you can feel the crescent indents you’ll see tomorrow. atsumu looks up, face covered with slick and dripping. “‘s just the first, baby. ya thought i was done that fast?”
— MIYA OSAMU
“wait, samu, i—” your protests fall on deaf ears as osamu pushes you forward and flips up your skirt to reveal your damp panties. he slips a finger beneath them and snaps them into your pussy, pushing you down when your body jolts.
“no, ya fuckin’ started this. now yer gonna finish it, angel.”
“i didn’t mean to be to pushy, i-i really didn’t! osamu, we absolutely cannot do this here!”
you’re bent over the front counter of onigiri miya, minutes after osamu decided to close early on account of a petty spat between him and yourself. you’d been hounding him about closing early or at least leaving the place to his capable managers so you’d be able to spend more time together over the weekend, but he’d stubbornly refused. it got to the point where it would come up in conversation while you were helping around the restaurant, or when you two were home together, and it all came to a head this evening.
after the last customer walked out, osamu kindly dismissed the staff, letting them know that onigiri miya would be closing early tonight and that they could head on out. when he’d flipped the open sign to the closed side, you’d been holding all your stuff, ready to leave, but he’d kissed you hard and manhandled you behind the counter until he was pushing you over. from where you’re positioned over the center of the counter, you can see the road and passerbys across the street, even though it’s a little dark outside.
“anyone could see us! let’s just take care of this at home, i mean it.”
“stop talkin’, i mean it,” osamu grunts, yanking your panties to the side and smacking your ass so hard it stings for a while. “ya pissed me off on purpose, y’know. all that arguin’ ‘nd grabbing me whenever ya could.”
“it was supposed to be encouragement—”
“encouragement my ass!” he exclaims with a laugh, and you can hear him spit just before he pushes two slick fingers inside your tight cunt. your body subconsciously shifts, pushing back against him with the need for more. “yer just a damn brat, and i’m not letting ya get away with it this time, angel.”
you moan as he scissors his fingers in and out of you, the sound of your pussy growing louder and wetter. osamu smirks as he fingers you open; you’re so eager despite all your complaining earlier, aren’t you? clearly, he’s not the only one who’s been dreaming of fucking you in the restaurant after hours.
“hurry up ‘nd cum f’me,” he hisses, impatience driving him to move faster and harder. you only whine and bury your burning face in your arms, hands balling into fists in front of you. sweat accumulates on every inch of your skin, under clothes and across the unclothed slopes of your body. you’re not sure if it’s anxiety from the prospect of being caught, the intensity of the orgasm rising in your belly, or the thrill of it all.
“samu, feels good,” you mumble faintly into the countertop. he swoops a hand under your chin and lifts your head up.
“don’t get all shy on me now. go ahead ‘n tell me, what was that?”
“i said ‘s good, samu,” you whine, eyes fluttering shut as your cunt starts to spasm on his thick fingers.
“good girl,” he praises, using a free finger to rub at your swelling clit and chuckling at the way your body thrashes, hips banging into the counter as you start to pant. “there’s no one else in here, want ya to be loud for me. ya hear me, angel?”
“yes, yes i do, samu, just don’t stop—” each muscle in your body contracts as you cream all over his fingers with a loud moan that echoes through the dining area and bounces off each wall. osamu marvels at the ring of white at his knuckles before he tugs his fingers out of your clenching pussy and sticks them into a mouth before letting them go with a pop.
“alright, ‘s my turn now,” osamu huffs, painfully hard and throbbing. his mouth is full of your sweet aftertaste, head full of the sight of you cumming on his fingers. he won’t be able to get the picture of your arching back out of his mind for months.
“y-you’re too big, samu, i can’t take it just yet,” you cry, fingernails scraping against the countertop. he bottoms out quickly and gives a few sloppy, experimental thrusts.
“yes you can,” is his only response before he’s lifting your hips and pulling you back to meet each buck of his hips. onigiri miya fills with nothing but the sound of skin clapping against skin, along with your shared moans.
this is nothing short of intoxicating, all too rough and yet so fulfilling. osamu’s cock fits inside you perfectly, stretching you out and filling you up just enough — his heavy balls slap against your already sensitive clit. your toes uncontrollably curl in your shoes, body jolting each time his cock kisses your cervix during the occasionally extra intense thrust.
“so fuckin’ tight, shit. yer squeezing me like ya want me to cum already,” osamu comments, lips parting around a moan of your name.
“yes, please,” your back arches and you push backwards off the counter, offering him a better angle for him to fuck you at. your eyes roll all the way back into your head, and a breathy gasp leaves your lips as you feel yourself start to tense. “oh, oh my god, ‘m gonna cum again, i-i—”
his own groans cut you off as he reaches his own high, spreading your legs and rather mercilessly yanking you back onto his cock. osamu buries his cock as deep as he can and shoots ribbons of white into you, warmth filling you up while the excess spills out.
“oh, shit! get down, samu!” you say, dizzy and practically cross eyed; the sound of a knock on a window not far from where you both are wipes the bliss away immediately. you push off the counter and into him, and he falls right onto his bare ass and stifles a curse as you land on his lap. his cock is pulled from you and you’re dripping cum onto his lap behind the front counter while a customer tries to pull on the front door with a closed sign. the post nut clarity hits him and he leans in close to your ear.
“angel, that was amazin’, but the restaurant isn’t the place for this.”
“i said that earlier! this was all you!”
he remembers what you’re talking about but doesn’t want to acknowledge how wrong he was. “no, no ya didn’t. ya said it would be fine and i trusted ya.” when you try to protest, he cups a hand over your mouth and says you can’t talk about it right now because of the customer.
— KUROO TETSUROU
“just shut the fuck up, yeah? spread your damn legs.”
there’s nothing you can do but bury your face in the duvet; it’s stained from the drool dripping down your chin and the mix of mascara and tears that stain your cheeks.
“i said, spread em. did i fuck you dumb or something, doll? doesn’t seem like you understand what i’m saying, huh?”
“tetsu,” you whine, his name drawn out as it leaves your bitten lips. “‘s too much, i can’t take it anymore, tetsu!”
tetsurou yanks on his tie, pulling your bound hands back towards him and your head up. “aw, that’s too bad,” he grunts mockingly, “i don’t care. you can, and you will.”
he punctuates each word with a harsh thrust, your asscheeks rhythmically clapping against his thighs and slightly echoing around the room. tetsurou savors the weak moans that leave your lips and the pathetic little cries you can’t seem to stop letting out. you’d decided to prank him on the wrong day; he’d had a terrible day at work and was on thin ice, and when you’d been snarky with him as a prank, he’d snapped back.
instead of taking a moment to pause and assess the situation, then apologize, your tempers had both flared, leading to a nasty argument. tetsurou had repeatedly warned you that he’d needed some time to himself to shower and relax before getting into bed, but you’d been all too insistent in pissing him off. challenging his every word with sultry innuendos and bratty confidence had him throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes before dumping you onto the bed in a heap.
“i already came, tetsu, ‘m too sensitive,” you push, tits bouncing as he only yanks your hands back harder. some of the fabric audibly tears and he curses under his breath, changing up his once methodical pace.
the thick tip of his cock punches into your g-spot again and again, only going deeper and harder with each stroke. your cunt spasms and you moan lowly as you cum on his cock for the nth time; you’ve entirely lost count and tetsurou certainly doesn’t care to help you keep track.
“shittt, that’s it,” he praises, closing his eyes as a few beads of sweat roll down his temple from exertion. “i want you to cum over ‘n over, until you can’t fucking move.”
his balls clench and he gulps as he holds back another pesky orgasm, tensing his cock until the feeling finally goes away. it’s physically hard to keep it going, with the way your sticky walls are quite literally milking him and begging for his load.
“tetsu,” you whisper, voice small. it’s not like he’s discreet — you can feel him holding back inside you, prolonging this round because he’s gonna end up falling asleep afterwards. “cum in me, i need it bad.”
“what’d i say about asking the right way?” tetsurou groans, smacking your ass hard and startling you. it’s a mistake, because you clench hard on his cock and suck him deeper; you’re so hot and tight and he’s so fucking close to giving in.
even though you’re entirely fucked out and exhausted, soreness setting into every muscle, you’re still devious and absolutely determined to make him break.
“tetsu,” you whine, biting your lip as you push back against him, “want you to fucking ruin me, cum inside me ‘n fuck it deep, please,”
“s-sluts don’t get to make requests,” he chokes out, feeling a strong orgasm hurtling towards him. it’ll be more than difficult to hold this one back and he knows it. you do, too. the telltale twitch of his cock in your pussy means you’ve won this.
“c’mon, stuff it full,” is your next request, paired with the spreading of your legs and an insistent push back into his cock.
“you don’t deserve it,” he bites into his lower lip, resolve slipping away as he folds like paper. “ughhh, fuck, we’re not done yet— shit, ‘m cumming..”
and with that, plus a choked moan, he finally lets go, cock spurting white deep into your awaiting cunt. tetsurou’s way too tired to fuck it in until the cum’s pouring out, and lets go of the tie, falling on top of you with a gasp.
“shit, baby,” he bites into your shoulder, still not over the argument from earlier. “can’t move.”
“how do you think i feel? you’re crushing me!”
“it’s okay,” he hushes you, planting a sloppy kiss to the side of your face. “we can help each other over to the shower in a little while..”
— SUNA RINTAROU
“you’re mine and i’m yours. don’t forget that again, pretty baby.” rintarou’s hand smooths over the tender skin of your throat just before he lightly grabs it, pushing you back against him.
“did you hear me?” his fingers squeeze at the sides of your throat and a gasp slips past your lips as you desperately nod your head, straining to speak.
“y-yeah rin, yes i did.”
“‘s just what i wanted to hear,” he rasps lowly, hips slamming into your ass and filling the room with the sound of an applause.
outside of the bedroom you both snuck off to, the party rages on, people whooping and shouting to the dance music. your cheeks are just as hot as his, your head spinning from the effects of drinking until you became quite tipsy.
rintarou had been sitting on a couch, tossing back shot after shot to show off to his friends and a few others how high his tolerance was. you’d watched wordlessly as a few girls flirted with him, trying to feel him up and coming back every time he pushed them away. he’d just shoved a girl off his lap and onto the floor when he turned to see you disappearing into the crowd.
rintarou found you with a full cup of vodka at the liquor table, and when he’d tried to pull you away to let you know his concern, you’d shouted in his face and doubted his loyalty, questioned your importance to him. he’d been quick to take you away and lead you to an empty room upstairs; in his haste to prep you and push inside, he’d left the door wide open.
“my baby can be a bit dumb sometimes, no?” he coos into your ear, hand falling from your throat as he gets you in a loose headlock. his forearm flexes against you, strong and muscular from all his working out.
“if you were me you would’ve felt the same exact way—” you utter, still frustrated, and he shushes you.
“gotta be a littleee stupid to think you don’t matter to me, pretty,” rintarou huffs, brows furrowing as beads of sweat race down his forehead and gather around his nose.
your chest heaves, tits bouncing in your clothes, shirt hanging off your shoulder. you’d both been focused on only getting the lower halves of your body stripped naked. rintarou’s hair brushes against the side of your face as he tucks his face into your shoulder and rocks his hips harder. he feels it now, the liquor — he definitely doesn’t have a high tolerance, it’s just slow to kick in.
“all mine,” he chokes out into your skin, taking in your smell and the taste of salt from the exertion of the night. “mine, mine, mine,” he grunts repeatedly, pulling back and cumming shallowly inside you.
“rin, ‘m so close,” your voice is whiny as he pushes through the euphoria and slides his cock out of you, then yanks your panties up. “why—why’d you stop?” you sound close to tears.
“oh, baby,” rintarou sighs, the flush high on his cheeks. “for now, i want you to keep it inside, soak in it a little. when we get home, you’re really gonna be in for it.”
warmth spills from you and into your panties, spreading all over your pussy as you move to find your lost clothes with a gasp.
“that’s not fair, i—”
“don’t care,” he shrugs dismissively, tossing you your shorts. “if you wanna be a brat like earlier you’ll have to get yourself off. got that, pretty?”