it’s not a hozier song unless i can’t tell if it’s about the evils of capitalism or eating pussy

Hawks | Bnha Season 6 Ep. 18 (my third weakness...men wearing suits! 😍)

Atsumu Miya x Fem!Reader

Here's a little late Valentine's Day fic! Minors DNI.

Genre: mild angst, fluff, and smut (the holy trinity!) oh and a little comedy

Warnings: some light couple fighting/bickering, cunnilingus, fem reader.

Word count: 2.6k

Atsumu nearly loses it as you clench around him, body writhing beneath his. Your eyes flutter shut and your mouth parts open to let out another breathless moan. He fights back every urge he has to bust in you now, not wanting to end the pleasure for either of you. 

“Tsumu,” you whine, your eyes opening, glossy with love and lust.

He can’t take it anymore. There’s nothing he can do to stop himself. He cums deep inside you with a final thrust, his breath catching and then a groan escaping. He opens his eyes to look at you, but you start to fade from view. 

Atsumu wakes up abruptly, jerking his arms and sitting up. His forehead drips sweat as he shakes his head. Another wet dream, he realizes. Flipping the covers off him, he sees he’s made a mess of himself again. He flops back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling and wishing you’d just come home already. 

He is going to go crazy. Your sweet scent is everywhere. It's unfair that you sleep so soundly while he is in this hard situation. He is struggling to find a comfort position, rolling and rolling. Fuck. You are moving on his side of bed. He is cursing as he feels hot, you are getting closer to him. Close..too close. "Yer a fucking tease, babe" he angrily huffs out "I know" without opening your eyes you murmur, while smirking as you roll over on your side, making him embarrassed. You were awake all this time...well be prepared to be awake whole night.

-> USHIJIMA, kenma, SAKUSA, hinata, OSAMU, kita, DAICHI, kageyama, SEMI, aran.

To anyone else, a couple sitting together at breakfast not speaking to each other may seem odd, but for you and Kiyoomi, though, it’s nothing out of the ordinary.

“So, you’re away for a game this Friday, right?”

His response comes in the way of a slight nod, eyes narrowed in focus on the plate of food in front of him.

“When will you be home? Monday?”

He nods again, and your eyebrows crease in confusion. You open your mouth to question why he’s suddenly acting so strange, but before you can, Kiyoomi’s tilting his head in the direction of the table to your left. And then you hear it — the gossip.

“I just can’t believe she would do that! I thought she was my friend, ya know?”

Your mouth snaps shut in an instant, anxious to hear what unfolds next.

“Well,” the girl on the other side starts, clearly apprehensive, “she has liked him since high school. I thought you knew that.”

Silverware clatters down to the table. Whatever answer the first girl was expecting, it certainly wasn’t that. You and Kiyoomi share a pointed look, your mouths full of food.

“He’s my ex-fiancé. Are you serious right now?”

You have to control your face, taking a sip from your coffee mug to hide your surprise. Kiyoomi’s no better — eyes all but bulging at the new bit of information.

“I think you’re being a little unfair.”

You and Kiyoomi lock eyes in an instant, sharing looks that scream “oh shit.”

“Unfair?” The first girl is incredulous, and you can tell she’s biting back the volume in her voice. You have to strain to hear what she says next. “They started hooking up the second him and I broke up.”

Kiyoomi hides another expression behind his fist, cheeks stuffed with pancakes. His eyes widen, brows raising as he looks at you over his hand. You’re familiar enough with what you lovingly call Kiyoomi-speak to know he’s saying, “Can you believe this shit?”

Your expression mirrors his own.

You spend the rest of your meal digesting the conversation coming from the table beside you, and as you walk back to your apartment, Kiyoomi’s hand in yours, you unpack it together.

“Her ex seems like a dick.”

“He does! The friend is no better either.”

“Mm,” Kiyoomi’s brow furrows. “That friend she was eating with kind of sucks, too. It seemed like she was pulling out all of these excuses for the other girl.”

“That’s what I was gonna say! She probably knew all along.”

“Mm, probably.”

You continue to chat the whole way home, and as silly as it sounds, the idle conversation has warmth thrumming beneath your skin. It’s nice, you think as Kiyoomi delves into the theory that the poor girl was probably cheated on. To have someone who understands you, someone you can always rely on to people watch and gossip with you.

alternatively, hq boys as tweets on the TL lol

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

KUROO ;

TSUKISHIMA ;

USHIJIMA ;

ATSUMU ;

BOKUTO ;

SAKUSA ;

OIKAWA ;

HINATA ;

“I would lick the sweat off his thighs.”

chop

The knife barely misses the tip of Osamu’s finger as your voice, one of his regulars, slips through the crowd.

Onigiri Miya is packed with people watching tonight’s MSBY match and Osamu spares a quick glance your way.

You’re staring heatedly at the game with a few of your friends and tracing the rim of your glass.

“As if he’d let you,” one of your friends says with a smirk.

You snort. “Of course not. But god if he did, I’d lick him clean.”

Your friends laugh.

Osamu wants to know who you’re talking about but the crowd swallows the rest of what you’re saying.

Damn.

Obviously it’s a Jackal because you’re always in their merch but there’s never a name. No number. And you’re one of the few regulars-and-MSBY-fans who hasn’t tried to weasel their way into meeting the team through Osamu.

He enjoys having you in the shop because you get along with everyone and you’re one of the few people he considers a friend outside of the business owner-patron relationship so he can’t help it.

He’s curious.

He waits for clues as to who you were talking about but you don’t give anything away; you shout and cheer for everyone.

He fills more orders, deftly manages his staff, and takes an opportunity to walk the floor.

“How’re the boys doin’?” he asks when he stops by your table.

Your group shifts to include him, a few of your friends hungrily eyeing his fitted black t-shirt. “Not as good as you, handsome.”

He smirks appreciatively. “Obviously.” Then he juts his chin at the screen. “But they’re in the lead, at least. ‘Tsumu givin’ them any trouble?”

You snicker. “Nothing more than usual.”

Osamu nods, trying to hold back another smirk as he asks the group “did I hear somethin’ about one of them sweatin’?”

Your friends crow salaciously and turn to you as you suck your lips in, eyes bulging.

“OOOH, He heard y-” One of them breaks off with a lurch like you’ve kicked them under the table as another jeers. 

“Why? You jealous, Miya?” They wiggle their eyebrows. “You miss being oogled?”

He chuckles lowly and puts a hand on the back of your chair, noticing the way you’re avoiding his eye. “And who exactly are y’all ooglin’? Better not be ma dumb brother.”

“Never!” One of them leans forward as if they’re going to gush but you flick their forehead.

“No one.” You insist with a threatening smile to your friends. “You didn’t hear anything.”

Osamu snorts. “Sure I didn’t.” Feeling high from the thrill of your friends’ flirting he can’t help himself. “I must’a just imagined that comment about someone’s thighs.”

Your friends let out a synchronized cheer and you drop your forehead into your hands.

Osamu laughs but one of his workers calls him away before he can give you any more trouble.

The Jackals win and–to Osamu’s relief–you and your friends stay after the game. A lot of people do, too, caught up in the high of victory as interviews with the athletes play.

Osamu sneaks a text to his twin.

The restaurant’s still full when the team comes in to a raucous cheer and more rounds are ordered. Energy picking up like a second wind.

Atsumu greets his twin with a hug and whispers "which one?”

When they part Osamu directs him to you and your group of friends; Atsumu flicks his brow with a grin and Osamu feels like he’s back in high school.

“Heard we have some fans here,” he says sauntering over as your group shifts to welcome him like you did for Osamu. “Did y’all watch?”

“Of course we did!” one of your friends replies with a starry expression. “You were amazing!”

“Thank you, thank you.” He beams. “It was a very ex-thigh-ting game, if I say so myself.”

Osamu guffaws and chokes on a laugh as your blazing eyes immediately flick to him; your friends’ laughter encourages the setter.

“Did ya see my startl-lick-ing row of service aces in the second set?”

Their laughter roars and your eye twitches, expression scrunching at Osamu who looks away pointedly, torn between guilt and enjoyment.

“Sweat-sational, I’d say. Wouldn’t all of you?”

Osamu cringes internally; that one was a stretch but it was the final straw for you. As your friends break down to tears laughing you shove your chair back and storm away from the table making a straight line toward Osamu.

“Really?” you demand hotly and Osamu feels a fleeting moment of doubt. “You had to tell him?”

“Dunno what yer talkin’ about.” He shrugs innocently. “I didn’t hear anythin’.”

“Obviously you did,” you say tersely, dropping your voice leaning in. “Did you tell him just to make fun of me?!”

“No,” he says trying to sound lighthearted, “I was just try'na get them here so ya could meet whichever athlete it was ya wanted to be licking.”

For a moment he savors the way you gulp under his heavy, hooded gaze until a smirk slowly spreads across your own face.

“I wasn’t talking about an athlete.”

Heart pounding he looks down at the onigiri in his hands. “Oh no? Well who, then?”

You lean over the counter a little further, lowering your voice for only him to hear. “You, obviously.”

closer

i want him in my mouth im actually being so serious. listened to the nine inch nails song while writing this im feral!! anyways enjoy besties <3

cw. nsfw, hickeys making out nothing too crazy

300 words

sakusa kiyoomi who is physically repulsed by the thought of one of his teammates even breathing too close to him, but needs to be touching you at all times. a hand on your thigh, an arm slung your waist to keep you close to him, his head on your shoulder. he likes the comfort of your skin touching his. maybe hes a little overprotective, but you are just too beautiful for him to not feel a little anxious.

sakusa kiyoomi who buys you pretty rings to wear so he can fidget with them when he intertwines your fingers, the cool metal calms his nerves as he sits in your presence. he cant help but to bring your hands up to his lips, pressing soft kisses to your knuckles, moving to your wrist then up your arm. he can never not get carried away with you.

sakusa kiyoomi who all but whimpers as you sit on his lap, kissing the moles that line his upper body. he grips your thighs as you softly grind down on him, he lives for the times you take charge, its sexy that you know what you want and that you know he can give it to you. he worships your curves, he loves softly kneading the flesh of your thighs when you kiss him.

sakusa kiyoomi who loves when leaving marks on your pretty skin, and lets you do the same to him. the intimacy of it, the small whimpers and moans you let out as he bites and sucks on the skin. and the morning after when he sits on the bathroom counter and helps you blend your concealer to cover them.

because above all sakusa kiyoomi loves you and will spend the rest of forever showing you how much he does, one kiss at a time.

𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇 | 𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐒𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐈.

sakusa is rich, it comes as no secret, and that’s why you tell yourself this was never bound to work. you’re pretty sure he’s got tons of trust-fund-raised family friends that are after his heart anyway, so his options are surely plenty open.

he’ll do without you.

yet, why he’s incessantly knocking on your door, you can’t seem to figure out, the pounding sound ceaseless as he stays persistent. you’re nearly at your wit's end after thirty minutes, stomping over to open the door and face him.

“kiyoomi,” you growl, glaring daggers his way, but he only shoots sharper ones at you through his eyes, piercing you with the obsidian orbs you know all too well.

it feels like he can read right through you, and you hate yourself for letting him get so close—letting yourself get so attached.

“what’s your issue?” he presses.

right.

sakusa is probably the most stubborn, hardheaded, determined, and pettiest individual you’ve ever met. and it’s not exactly a surprise, you’ve learned he’s the youngest and he’s wealthy, a combination that makes it all add up. but still, you’d never expected someone as stoic as him to be so borderline bratty at times.

“my issue? i’m not the one pounding on a door at eleven pm with no pause. what’s your issue?”

“you’re ignoring me,” he pouts.

˖  ݁ . ࿓ the only witness to our love is the moon warnings. fluff, 1 suggestive line, food, calls you mrs. miya + doll

miya atsumu is a romantic.

you noticed this on your second date (but should’ve realized on your first, when he asked what your favorite flowers were. what man had ever asked you this? not one); when he showed up to your door with a bouquet of flowers in hand, toothy smile plastered on his face.

but you didn’t ask him until you were officially in a relationship — hey, ‘tsumu. are you a secret romantic? y’know. are you in love with love? — he denied it all, though. claimed that he was simply a gentleman and not some hopeless romantic that viewed the world with pink tinted, heart shaped glasses. that he was never into fairy tales. that he couldn’t make love look like an art form.

now you’re married, though. and you’ve summed it up: miya atsumu is a romantic. a sweet, love filled romantic. and you fall even more in love (if that’s even possible — but sometimes you think you’ve fallen in love all over again and you almost shove a pillow on your face, like a lovestruck fool).

“hey — are ya even paying attention to me?!”

“oh! i’m sorry, ‘tsumu. i was thinking of something.”

your husband childishly pouts. “all of yer attention is supposed to be on me and how hot i look making ya carbonara with only a towel wrapped around me.”

you laugh and atsumu’s pout turns into a smile because (something he truly believes) your laugh lights up his soul and his entire being.

“that’s why you refused to get changed?” you hop off the countertop, walk towards him. “because you wanted to act as some sort of sexy chef? hm, mr. miya?”

“so you do think i look sexy cooking in nothin’ but a towel? hm, mrs. miya?” a smirk is quirking his lip upward and you can’t help but smile — because he does look hot cooking with only a towel wrapped around his hips, because he called you by his last name. you could devour the world.

“yeah, yeah. whatever.”

sometimes you wonder if you’ll ever get used to being married to miya atsumu — you drown in his love every day. he feeds you so much of his raw love.

“i love you, by the way.”

his arms wrap around your waist (you’re also only wearing a towel — claimed he’d look silly by himself), stove turned off and carbonara forgotten.

atsumu’s smile is blinding. it’s full of love — it’s a smile only you get to see. a smile dedicated to you. “i haven’t told you so in the past,” his eyes glance at the colorful clock on the wall. then they’re back on you. “three hours. too much time.”

“i love you, too.” your head rests on his chest and he grabs his phone from the counter, quickly types in something — i’m confessin’ by peggy lee — and then his hands are on the sides of your waist again.

miya atsumu is a romantic.

he probably won’t admit it, but you know it — by the way he plays songs that lead to slow dancing, by buying your favorite pastry and flowers every tuesday night after practice, by cooking you carbonara at twelve in the morning after sex and showering.

“i’m confessin’ that i need you,” atsumu sings and it’s kind of broken, perfectly atsumu. “honest i do, every hour — and i can’t live without you.”

you laugh. “that’s not how the song goes.”

“i like my version!”

miya atsumu shows you how much he loves you every day — even at twelve in the morning as he feeds you carbonara. and the only witness to yours and his love is the moon that hangs high in the sky, along with her stars.

dedicated to @miyasann 💋 sweetest person in the world

thanks for reading ⋆ ˚｡⋆˚⸜(♡ ॑ᗜ ॑♡)⸝ ˚⋆｡˚ ⋆ reblogs are appreciated

          ☆.｡.:*　ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ ꜱᴀᴡᴀᴍᴜʀᴀ❢　.｡.:*☆

HBD, Daichi!

merry christmas all hail shark jesus

iwa loves to hug you from behind. He just loves resting his head on top of yours, hands around your waist and breathing in your scent. Standing there and unwinding is his favourite thing to do.

semi adores having you lay on his lap. Having you lay there while he's busy with whatever. He could spend all day there with you; sitting there and just enjoy each others company. He'll occasionally play with your hair, nothing too fancy though; normally he'll just blush his fingers through it or scratch your head.

atsumu seeks comfort while laying all over your chest. He loves pushing his head into your chest and just de-stressing. He loves when you play with his hair. Just brushing it with your fingers, styling it in silly styles. Just anything really, just being in the comfort of your embrace.

shoyo enjoys nothing more than tucking his head into the crook of your neck. Laying there whilst you scratch his back or head. He find nothing more comforting than that.

it’s december 1 where’s the christmas tail kitten bring him to me

i have to do EVERYTHING around here