Hq!! - Blog Posts
Anatomy and perspective studies with the orange boy 🍊
haikyuu x a3 x twst gamer collab of the century 🗣️🗣️🗣️
au where the ceo of itarus job is actually kenma where idia also went to for his internship idk n theyre both big fans
Outro personagem da minha futura HQ, seu nome por enquanto é Steve. #OC #hq #hqbr #tradicionalart #drawing #watercolor #night #blue https://www.instagram.com/p/BtAJ3oXhkFu/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=13hv3oz2nmec6
Yaku: So, who is Karasuno’s Captain?
Sugawara: Whoever can yell the loudest.
Doodled BOKUTO while at my friends house yesterday!!!
Lent me some nice markers she had, and played undertale while I drew, lots of love <333
FOREVER CHERISH MY FAVOURITE PASSIONATE, FANTASTIC, EMOTIONALLY UNSTABLE, VOLLEYBALL ENTHUSIAST OWL MAN
KAGEYAMA TOBIO!!!!!
The words in the bottom left are ‘genius’ behind ‘setter’
Again. I was on the train, I fell half asleep, zzzzzzzzzz COLOURED IN A PICTURE OF KAGEYAMA IN MY DREAMS, then woke up & had a laugh with my mate about it.
I’ve been thinking about it since SO I HAD TO DRAW HIM!
I want to go on walks and tag things. I have a couple paint pens
![I Coloured This On A Train %3333%3 ( ()[__]_[__]_[__]_[__] ( * * * * * * * *](https://64.media.tumblr.com/d77bb036d4d76255ac677794041aaf4d/ca43b2637e1f7f19-10/s500x750/3783823784391ed0eb6e4093a63610207accccf3.jpg)
I coloured this on a train %3333%3 ( ()[__]_[__]_[__]_[__] ( * * * * * * * *
HANDS SHAKING, CARRIAGE ROCKING, and I’m colouring Hinata Shoyo of the dirt in the miraculous colouring book
Rest
tw: multiple characters x reader, reader pov, exhausted, (if you guys find more please tell).
┊⠀⠀┊⠀❀⠀⠀┊⠀┊⠀ ⠀⠀ ┊⠀⠀┊⠀┊⠀✿
Exhaustion filled my body from head to toe. My eyelids felt heavy 'Maybe I'll just close my eyes for a few moments, that wouldn't mind, I can get back to studying after some minutes.' My head bobbed waking me up. Placing the scattered pens and highlighters, assignments which i worked my butt off, aside. I tried shifting my posture to lay down on the desk and rest when I felt fingertips massage my scalp.
"you know you can sleep on my shoulder right?"
I looked up from the desk to give him a side glance. He had his eyes glued on the laptop screen.
"don't want to disturb" I replied shortly in a muffled voice while laying my head back on the desk.
The voice of my chair screeching against the floor filled my ears. Hands slid between my forehead and the cold metal of the desk and placed my head towards his shoulders. I readjusted to the new position.
"wake me up after 15 minutes." I said while nuzzling my head further onto his shoulders. And dozed off.
"I'll wake you up when I know you've rested well".
"rest well". I felt a chaste kiss on my forehead.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───
Haikyuu: Shinsuke Kita, Keiji Akaashi, Wakatoshi Ushijima, Daichi Sawamura, Asahi Azumane, Hajime Iwaizumi, Tadashi Yamaguchi, Chikara Ennoshita, Suna Rintarou.
JJK: Kento Nanami, Suguru Geto, Toge Inumaki, Yuta Okkotsu, Megumi Fushiguro, Noritoshi Kamo, Mechamaru.
Tokyo Rev: Takashi Mitsuya, Chifuyu Matsuno, Seishu Inui, Hajime Kokonoi, Hanemiya Kazutora, Izana Kurokawa, Atsushi Sendo, Angry, Haitani Rindou, Kakucho, Shinichiro Sano.
(and any of your favourite characters)
a/n : please ignore the grammatical errors :)
till we meet again | iwaoi
iwaoi hanahaki disease au!!
oikawa caught the hanahaki disease as he slowly discovers his love for iwaizumi. while in the middle of a late night call with one another, oikawa started coughing up petals and blood. iwaizumi, who thought that oikawa was just sick brushed it off as him just having a bad cough. later on, iwaizumi had figured out while visiting oikawa one day, that it was not just a bad cough that night that they were having a late night call. it was the hanahaki disease, that he did not believe in had happened to his very best friend. the friend that he grew up with.
will oikawa be getting the surgery and live a sad, unlovable life, or will he suffer his last weeks seeing his best friend fall in love with the manager of seijoh?
!! cw, read before continuing !! : major character death, heavy angst, mentions of blood, potential character death, cursing, hallucinations, mix of lower case and upper case, incorrect punctuations
word count : 4.6k
oikawa huffed, fishing out his phone from his pockets as he impatiently waited for his friend to answer his messages. he was waiting at the front of the school gates, he remembered he promised to iwaizumi that he would wait for him in front of the school gates so they could walk to class together, but it seems that he was running a bit late.
he was waiting for roughly 15 minutes, his legs starting to give up on him for standing so long. he groaned, moving to get his phone from his pockets again to call iwaizumi, but stopped when he saw a figure walking in the distance.
his eyes lit up, head snapping in iwaizumi's direction to wave and greet him. iwaizumi rolled his eyes, but raised a hand and waved back. oikawa was about to call out to iwaizumi, but the words fell short on his tongue as he watched seijoh's volleyball team manager approach iwaizumi. his huge grin had calmed down to a tight lipped smile, a smile that won't reach his eyes no matter how he tries as he watched them interact.
they chat for a few minutes, slowly making their way to oikawa.
by the time they're reach him, his smile had fully went and gone. his eyes didn't shine as they did earlier as he turned away from them and faced the school, the cracks of the walls seemingly much more interesting than whatever they were talking about.
oikawa started staring off to space, not being able to hear anything around him as he got lost in his own mind.
"oh, oikawa-san! i didn't see you there!" oikawa snapped out of his trance. where was he again? he let his eyes wander for a short while as they landed on the girl in front of him. oh. right. school.
"yeah haha hi" he awkwardly muttered, subconsciously letting his hand rest on the back of his neck.
iwaizumi and the manager chatted for a few more minutes, before they finally said their goodbyes and walked away from each other.
'finally, i was getting bored' oikawa thought monotonously, looking back to iwaizumi who had hearts in his eyes.
oikawa furrowed his eyebrows. what's so special about a girl? i mean, he gets it if it's his mom, or sister, or cousin but? he doesnt get it if they're just a schoolmate.
oikawa heaved a small cough, covering his mouth with his hand as he did so. when he lifted his hand back up there was a pink petal. it looked like a hydrangea petal. he remembered a small conversation that he and iwaizumi had a few years back.
"hey iwa-chan, what's your favorite flower?"
"ha? what, are you gonna get me flowers for my grave or something? i'm not dead yet loserkawa"
"what- no i'm not! i'm just asking because i'm curious! jeez mean iwa-chan." oikawa frowned, rubbing the spot where iwaizumi had hit him
iwaizumi thought for a bit, looking up at the ceiling as he does so.
"well, i suppose i like hydrangea flowers"
"the pink one?" oikawa tilted his head to the side, i curious glint in his eyes.
iwaizumi confirmed that by nodding.
he wondered where the petal came from. did it fall from a tree? he shrugged it off, nudging iwaizumi's arm as he started walking towards the school. iwaizumi blinked, shaking off his trance, his head snapped towards oikawa, a pink tint to his cheeks.
"oi! what was that for, shittykawa?!"
oikawa laughed, starting to jog towards the school doors.
"i can see the hearts in your eyes whenever you talk to manager-chan. you like her, don't you, iwa-chan??" oikawa teased as he saw the irk mark on iwaizumi's head grow. he didn't like admitting it, or even acknowledging it, but he knew that iwaizumi, did in fact like their volleyball teams manager. he has talked about her a few times, mentioned her name that even oikawa didn't have the time or care to even remember of.
his smile faltered once more. but when he saw iwaizumi coming at him full charge his grin went back, starting to run away from the devil like iwaizumi.
"damn you shittykawa i told you not to say that outloud!!" oikawa laughed, a little squeak coming out of the end as he tries to escape iwaizumi.
ah, what a peaceful life it is.
a few weeks later, exams was just right around the corner, pulling at every students heads and giving them a headache. oikawa was no different.
although he did seem smart, which he was, he just wasn't keen in a few subjects.
luckily, iwaizumi liked the subjects oikawa loathed, so he asked if iwaizumi could help him in those subjects, exchanging agedashi tofu or grilled mackerel pike for the help.
iwaizumi agreed, acting all grumpy as oikawa called him through discord.
"yahoo iwa-chan!" iwaizumi grumbled a small greeting, oikawa hearing a bit of shuffling and pages turning.
oikawa chuckled.
"oi, what are you laughing at?"
"it's just the way you act all grumpy about teaching me, but i know you love teaching me cause i'm just so irresistible, arent i iwa-chan?"
"yeah, so irresistibly annoying"
"hey! mean iwa-chan!" oikawa huffed, taking out his notebooks from his bag.
he heard iwaizumi chuckle through his headset, and he smiled.
"so what do you not understand in ap history?"
"uhm, everything?"
"tch, expected from a dumbass like you"
"hey! rude! i'm not a dumbass!" oikawa coughed. petals flowing through his mouth. what was happening?
"oh come on, just admit it loserkawa" iwaizumi chuckled. iwaizumi continued to look through his notebook, not minding how oikawa was coughing so much.
"oi, 'kawa, drink some water dumbass!" iwaizumi half muttered, trying to focus on reading the contents of his notebook.
when the coughing continued, iwaizumi frowned, furrowing his eyebrows and looking up from his notebook to stare at his computer.
"hey, shittykawa, are you okay?" iwaizumi's voice was laced with concern for his friend, as he closed his notebook and placed it on his study table.
there were a few more coughs, before oikawa weakly answered;
"i'll be alright iwa-chan, don't worry."
"are you sure? you're coughing pretty bad."
"yeah, i think i just caught a cold."
"well, alright then... if something happens to you tell me immediately, if you don't i'll beat you up."
oikawa let out a small chuckle.
"i'll make sure of that iwa-chan."
now, in any other situation, that would have made oikawa's heart flutter, and his stomach burst with butterflies, but in this situation, he didn't think he could feel that at the moment. his head was aching, not because of studying, hell, he hasn't even started studying yet, but because of coughing so much in a short amount of time.
his throat felt dry, sticky with blood and itchy from small thorns. his study desk was littered with small petals of hydrangea flowers, a few thorns sticking out. his eyes felt droopy and tired all of a sudden, as if he was ready to pass out.
he shook his head.
'i can study tomorrow early in the morning' he thought to himself as he grabbed a bottle of water from his study desk. he drank a few gulps, his face scrunching up in pain as he felt the thorns scratch at his throat.
"hey, iwa-chan, is it fine if we just study tomorrow early in the morning? i'm feeling kinda tired now"
"wha- i dont think you haven't even studie-"
"yes? okay, thank you iwa-chan. i'll see you tomorrow" oikawa hurriedly left the call, as to avoid any questions or remarks from iwaizumi.
a few seconds later, a faint, calm ding ringed through his room. he peeled his eyes open to look at his computer.
iwa-chan! ʕ￫ᴥ￩ʔ (sent at 12:52 AM, February 25th)
[oi, get some rest. you don't need to study early in the morning, just try to remember what you can and write it down. drink water before you go to bed lazykawa. goodnight.]
the message read. oikawa smiled faintly, glancing at his dirty study desk.
"i'll sleep in a bit. for now, i have to clean this mess.." oikawa muttered, standing up and scooping the petals in his arms. this is going to be a pain.
by the time the exam days have ended, oikawa was exhausted. there were bags under his eyes, and his coughing was getting worse. iwaizumi didn't show it, but he worried for his friend.
"oi, oikawa! have you eaten yet?" oikawa stopped in his tracks, his head slowly turning to iwaizumi.
"uhm, no? why? is it lunch yet?"
"dumbass, what do you mean 'is it lunch yet'?! didnt you hear the bell ring?" oikawa blinked. the bell rung?
oikawa squinted his eyes and slowly shook his head.
iwaizumi sighed. 'how much sleep has this dumbass been getting? 2 hours?' he thought, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"sorry iwaizumi. i just have not been feeling well these past few days." oikawa smiled up at him tiredly.
iwaizumi was stunned. 'iwaizumi?' he thought, surprised. the name almost felt foreign to hear, even though it was the name he was born with, the name that almost everyone has called him with.
it felt weird to hear, because oikawa had only called him that when they first met. iwaizumi furrowed his eyebrows.
"iwaizumi?" he parroted his thoughts, looking oikawa in the eyes as if he could see right through him.
"what, isn't that your name?"
"well, it is, but....you never call me iwaizumi. it's always iwa-chan or something" iwaizumi had muttered, tapping his knuckles on oikawa's shared table. oikawa smiled.
"aweeee, is iwa-chan sad that i don't call him iwa-chan anymore?" oikawa chuckled, lazily hooking his head on his hand to rest for as he gazed up at iwaizumi.
"wha- are you dumb?! i was just worried about you, you asshole!" iwaizumi raged, snapping at oikawa.
oikawa let out a weak, hearty laugh.
“yeah, i know."
it had been 2 long weeks. the petals have grown to be half of the hydrangea, the thorns bigger than before, and there started to be much more blood then the first few times he'd cough up petals. iwaizumi had been checking on oikawa almost everyday, sending him messages, calls, and voice mails. all that iwaizumi knew of oikawa's situation was that oikawa was getting sicker as the days went.
he felt like his brain was rotting, slowly turning to nothing but dust.
oikawa had have this happen happen to him before, the feeling of waves of tiredness constantly crashing down his body, his brain felt like it was melting, his legs felt like jelly, his head spinning, making his head hurt like hell.
he scratched at his throat, and hissed when he itched it for a moment too long. his room was a mess. petals scattered around with the occasional blood, and a few thorns stuck to some of the petals.
oikawa sighed. he hasn't had the energy to clean his room for a couple weeks, always feeling so nauseous and heavy whenever he got home from school. oikawa groaned, moving to lay down on his side to try and get some sleep before he started coughing up again. maybe he could get some rest before he-
the doorbell rang.
oikawa froze.
and his blood ran cold.
fuck.
he slowly sat up, gripping the futon in between his hands until his knuckles turned white. he looked around his room, seeing the mess of everything.
he let out a small groan, praying, begging to whoever was up there that it was just a delivery guy that his mom had sent to give him food.
when he got up from his futon, muttering barely even a whisper; "coming" as the doorbell impatiently rang a second time, dragging his feet to his front door, and peeking through the peep hole.
he wanted the ground to swallow him up whole.
standing there, in all of his glory, outside in casual wear was iwaizumi, holding on to a steaming plastic bag of his favorite milk bread that was bought in the small corner store in the neighborhood oikawa lived in.
"ugh, what is taking that lazykawa so long to answer the door" he heard iwaizumi mutter, before he moved to ring the doorbell once more, the sound ringing throughout his house.
oikawa froze in his place, a small blush climbing to his cheeks. he shook off the feelings and lightly patted his cheeks, calming his racing heart down before he made a move to turn the knob of the door.
when the door opened, he peeked outside, looking up at iwaizumi, then down to what he was holding, then back up at iwaizumi. this continued on for a few seconds, iwaizumi slowly growing on an irk mark as it pressed on.
"oi! aren't you gonna let me inside?!" iwaizumi questioned, his patience growing thin. he noticed oikawa froze to stare up at him, then slowly look back at his house, then quickly looking back up at iwaizumi.
"what, you got a fuck buddy hiding in there? tell them that i don't care and that to leave, you're sick"
"pfft-" he heard oikawa chuckle, before he looked back up at iwaizumi with an amused glint in his eyes, his cheeks tinted a rosy pink from the joke that iwaizumi made.
they stared at each other for a few minutes, a small smile playing at their lips.
"so are they gone now? can i come in? come on i don't want my ass to freeze here"
"pfft, iwa-chan, come on, you of all people should know that i don't have a fuck buddy cause i'm not that type of person."
"yea, yea, i know, but what's taking you so long to let me in anyway? your food is getting cold." oikawa stared at the plastic bag in his friend's hands, the steam slowly clearing. oikawa frowned, then lead his eyes away from the bag to stare up back at his friends eyes.
"my house is a mess."
"and? so is mine. we've both seen each others house and we know it's similar to a pigsty." even when iwaizumi made a joke, oikawa didn't laugh, or even crack a smile. a frown still tugged on the setter's lips, which made iwaizumi sport on a frown too.
"it can't be that bad, i'm sure my place is dirtier than yours anyway. just let me in, i don't want your food to be cold when you eat it." with a hesitant glance to his house and back at iwaizumi, oikawa slowly opened the door, stepping aside to let his visitor in.
iwaizumi took off his shoes, placing them neatly to the side while he placed the plastic bag beside him on the floor so he could work on his shoes. once he stood up to his full height, he picked up the plastic bag and took a quick look around the house.
"it isn't that bad, what do you mean it's a mess?"
"i meant my room. i haven't cleaned it ever since i got sick" iwaizumi nodded, going to the kitchen to place the bag of food on the kitchen counter. oikawa happily hopped to the bag, muttering a small "thank you" and "itadakimasu" before biting into the bread. a satisfied hum left him buzzing, already grabbing a second one to munch on.
iwaizumi lingered his stare on oikawa for a second too long, a small smile gracing his lips before he turned away and gazed at the hallway leading to the bathroom and oikawa's room.
the door to oikawa's room was opened wide, and while oikawa was busy chomping down the food that iwaizumi had bought him, iwaizumi made his way to oikawa's room, intending to close the door, but when he got there, a small, pink, almost white petal greeted him just outside of oikawa's room, a few, maybe 6, was scattered outside of oikawa's room.
iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. flower petals? outside oikawa's room? he wondered. when he crouched to pick them up and throw them away, blood was next to the petals. iwaizumi's eyes widened.
blood? who's blood?
his eyes trailed, following the blood which lead straight to oikawa's room. the room was lit up, which made it easier to see. in oikawa's room, scattered petals, thick thorns, some dangerously thin you can barely see them, and blood. some blood on his sheets, on the floor, his study desk.
oikawa peeked a head out of the kitchen to check where iwaizumi had gone to, and when he saw him just outside his room, staring straight at him with wide eyes and a pale face, that he knew right then and there, that iwaizumi hajime had known.
they sat in thick silence in oikawa's living room, sipping on the warm tea that iwaizumi had made for the both of them. oikawa wondered when was the last time he had drank tea. it soothed his throat, and calmed his nerves. but not calm enough.
he heaved a cough deep in his chest and covered his mouth with his hand, catching the petals, thorns, and blood on his hand.
oikawa winced as he opened his hand, staring down at his hand that was full of thorny, bloodied, petals.
iwaizumi watched his expression with a frown, and turned his gaze to look at his friend's hand. he furrowed his eyebrows. iwaizumi knew that oikawa was a total love sick person, dreaming about having a girlfriend, possibly a boyfriend before high school ended. he stood from his seat and went to the bathroom to throw away the petals and wash his hands. when he came back, they sat in silence once again.
oikawa traced the rim of the cup with his finger, staring into the contents of the cup with an emotion that iwaizumi could not pin down. iwaizumi stared into his own cup, looking at his reflection as he blinked back the tears that was daring him to spill.
iwaizumi sighed.
"so how long"
"....which one?"
"how long since you've known."
"maybe a month or two ago."
".....how long?"
"......2 weeks tops"
iwaizumi grimaced. thats so little time.
"get surgery"
"no"
"why?"
"i'd rather die loving the person i fell in love with rather than dying a pitiful, long, unlovable death, iwa-chan."
he was right there.
"who is it?"
"you'll get mad if i tell you who."
"i wont"
"next time"
iwaizumi grimaced once more. when is 'next time'? when he's 6 feet under?
iwaizumi gazed up at his friend with glassy eyes, while oikawa just stared bitterly at his cup. iwaizumi looked back down, clasping his hands together.
"alright. next time it is."
iwaizumi stared longingly at the smiling picture of oikawa atop his coffin, tears brimming his eyes as he stared longer.
he averted his gaze to the ground, tears rolling down his cheeks and dropping down to the floor.
he promised oikawa that he wouldn't cry in his funeral, and instead make embarrassing jokes about him, and when oikawa laughed, saying it would piss his family off, iwaizumi couldn't care less. he wanted to make oikawa's funeral light hearted, the way he wants it to be. but he himself can't even mutter up a single word, trying to choke up his sobs as he covered his mouth with his hand.
he could imagine oikawa laughing at him in wherever he ended up in, saying that he sounded so cocky and sure of himself when he uttered bullshit to his face about his funeral as they planned it in their heads, but now he's just a crying mess, the funeral that he and oikawa planned the night before he died long forgotten as his chest tightened up, and his eyes blurred the colors and details of the world.
iwaizumi was tapped on his shoulder by his team mate, catching his attention as he looked up with fat tears rolling down his cheeks like waterfalls.
"i-iwaizumi-san... it's your turn to speak." kindaichi mumbled, holding back tears of his own. iwaizumi let his eyes wander to the front as he nodded numbly to kindaichi's words. he didn't want to speak. his throat closed up, and his hands became clammy, his heart beating out of his chest, head spinning as a headache rolled in.
he looked back down to the ground, and clenched his fist. he made his way to the front, dragging his feet behind him as he tried to collect his thoughts and words to make a speech.
once he was there, he stared. with a troubled, and lost expression, iwaizumi started speaking.
"hey, iwa-chan?"
"hm?" iwaizumi hummed, playing with the strands of oikawa's hair.
"remember when you asked me who it was?"
"yeah. are you going to tell me now?" iwaizumi questioned, grabbing oikawa's hand and playing with his fingers.
"well, you might get mad."
"i get mad at everything you do, tooru."
"so you're going to get mad when i say that i got the hanahaki disease because of you?" oikawa questioned his friend, grasping at iwaizumi's hand and holding it in his.
iwaizumi froze.
he tightened his grip on oikawa's hand.
"well,"
iwaizumi started off, hesitant in picking his words
"i cant....get mad at you for having feelings." oikawa brought their interlocked hands to his lips. iwaizumi could feel oikawa smile against his hand as he placed a chaste kiss on the exposed skin.
"why not?"
iwaizumi stayed silent, carefully watching oikawa's movements.
when oikawa turned his head to look at iwaizumi, his cheeks flared pink.
"w-what the hell are you staring at, iwa-chan?" oikawa fumbled, squeezing iwaizumi's hand. iwaizumi squeezed back as a response.
"ugh, i hate you so much" iwaizumi grumbled, holding oikawa's head in place as he planted a barely there kiss on top of his forehead.
iwaizumi didn't know why, but a memory of him and oikawa laying down on the couch, limbs tangled together in a mess had played while he was speaking.
if oikawa was here to see iwaizumi's little speech he'd laugh his stupid laugh that iwaizumi had grown accustomed to, finding comfort in his little wheezes and squeaks whenever he laughed. he would laugh at iwaizumi's sappy speech, telling him to cheer up because they're going to get his favorite food later after this is finished.
iwaizumi just bitterly chuckled at that thought.
'if'
'if is such a dumb word.' iwaizumi thought, folding his hands in front of himself as he went back to his spot before.
he thought, he could feel oikawa's presence by his side. he thought he could see oikawa's smile as he side hugged iwaizumi. he thought he could hear his low chuckle as he made a small joke about how ugly iwaizumi looked while he was crying. he thought he got a glimpse of oikawa's dumb brown hair that always looked to be in great condition no matter what. he thought he could feel him.
he thought.
.....
iwaizumi hated it here. it felt suffocating. felt like everyone was hogging up all the oxygen and leaving none for him.
so he left early.
he walked down the street, lifelessness showing clearly in his eyes. the people walking around him bumped into him, some not bothering to say sorry, some even yelling at him but he could care less.
he pulled his scarf closer to his nose, burying his head deeper into the folds of the soft cotton. he weakly huffed, eyes searching the busy street of cars for something. was it oikawa he was searching? he didn't know either.
his eyes lingered on a street lamp before wandering again, slowly blinking. eyes stopping dead on a figure in the middle of the street.
"iwa-chan!" oikawa waved, smiling brightly at iwaizumi.
iwaizumi's eyes lit up, his feet moving on its own.
he choked down a sob as he walked towards oikawa.
walking turned to jogging.
and jogging turned to running.
"shittykawa, what are you doing there! you'll get hit!" iwaizumi let out a cracked chuckle, finally a few inches away from him. he reached out to him, but oikawa dodged, laughing as he ran away from iwaizumi.
"come catch me if you can, iwa-chan!" oikawa challenged, running towards the other end of the street.
iwaizumi's eyes dilated. no, he couldn't lose oikawa again.
"t-tooru wait, no, please, don't leave me again!" iwaizumi desperately called, running after oikawa. the said person laughed giddily, turning to iwaizumi and opening his arms.
"come home iwa-chan! i miss you" oikawa managed a smile, his eyes shining brightly as iwaizumi stared into them.
"home...haha...sure, tooru." iwaizumi panted, hanging his arms around oikawa's waist.
oikawa placed his chin atop iwaizumi's head and wrapped his arms around iwaizumi's shoulders, shielding his sight from the incoming truck.
"yeah. you're home now, hajime."
ah, how cruel life is.
Here it is, the first instalment of my biggest project yet!
If you are the best part of me is a 4k word fic exploring the Miya twins dynamic and addressing the struggles that come with constantly being compared to someone. (more yapping plus bigger images below)
This fic is fairly stand alone so I feel comfortable posting it on its own. Parts two and three are both significantly longer so we will see how I go with posting them, but for now, I hope you enjoy this starting point!
I need Osamu-centric fic recs
A lot of the time I've seen Atsumu-centric fics and oh my god, they are good. A lot of them are really good. Especially when the relationship between the Miya Twins is explored. But so many times I feel like I want to know more about Osamu too because he's a Miya Twin too. Anyone got any fic recs with that? Even if it's ship it's okay but I'd prefer if it were focused on the twins.
There are these two really really good fics that I read from Osamu's POV: where do you see yourself in a hundred years? by onewhodiedyoung https://archiveofourown.org/works/42245820 and when there's nothing left to burn, you have to set your brother on fire by pepperfield https://archiveofourown.org/works/24575503
I bet iwa gets stressed out whenever you have a tummy ache and anxiously webMD’s reasons for tummy troubles and works himself into a crazy spiral, meanwhile, you just drank more coffee than usual or smth like that
oh god. oh my god. iwaizumi and milf reader. you're freshly divorced, finding yourself after being in a relationship with you ex, and you're going back to the gym again. you're so nervous about being surrounded by all the beefy gym rats, and you're self conscious about how your belly hasn't never full snapped back after you gave birth, and how much your metabolism has changed and has started to store weight in new places. it never once crosses your mind that the surly looking lifter who is 10 years younger than you, is absolutely panting over you, and thinks about nothing else but pinning you up against the wall and rocking his dick up inside you, and showing you just how strong he is.
iwaizumi who is so careful about his strength whenever it comes to you. who holds the back of your head whenever so it doesn't bump into a hard wall whenever he's pressing you up against it to kiss you. who is so nervous about spanking you in bed, even when you insist that you can take more, and never lets it be more than just a warm little love tap. who spends all his days yelling at athletes, but never raises his voice with you.
iwaizumi who just cannot control himself when you pick up a cheap multi-pack of white panties that cling and frame your booty cheeks just right, to the point where he has to cram his hand down your panties and working you over until he's dripping up his elbow and you're keening in near hysteric panic to try and wrestle him away. but he's just too strong.
"Kenma."
The game buzzes on, the battle music intensifying. The thing his character is facing has changed, taking on its second form as Kenma's character rolls and swings its sword. The man himself is curled into his knees, chest tucked forward in anticipation, like he's about to hop out of his chair.
"Ke-"
"In a second," he cuts you off. His unblinking eyes never leave the screen, peering through his blonde bangs. "I just have to beat this boss."
With a huff, you sink back into your chair.
"Last time you said 'just a second' it took you two days to beat the damn thing," you remind him. "I'm not immortal-- I don't have time to sit around for you."
Frankly, you often forget Kenma is immortal until moments like that. You had always thought that vampires would be menacing or carry some sort of grandeur, but everyone you've met has been so spectacularly normal. Kenma, for instance, seems like every other guy your age: aloof and obsessed with video games.
"Get bitten then," he shrugs. "Kuroo would be happy to."
Your spine trills at the thought of it. When you first met Kuroo, you thought her was odd in the most normal way possible. He was practically nocturnal because he claimed to work remotely overseas, but he still went to bars and played indoor volleyball: average activities for an average man-
Or, that's what you thought, until you learned about the whole vampire thing.
Honestly, it's only made you more attracted to him. The mystery, the danger-- what's not to love? You'd be lying if you said you had never thought of his teeth on you, his hands on your body-
"That's what I wanted to talk about."
Kenma's head whips around. This game doesn't pause; the monster smacks his avatar across the screen.
"You're turning?" His voice is either bright with surprise or shock. You've known Kenma for a while now and you still can't seem to read his motivations. You're not sure why Kuroo incorporated you into the fold of his undead friend group, but here you are, sitting in their living room.
"No, uh-" What you're about to ask suddenly feels silly. "I wanted to... Can I see your teeth?"
Kenma's expression settles and he picks up the controller that you hadn't realized he dropped.
"I died for that?" He flicks the game off. "You could have waited for that. I'll still have teeth in a week."
You have to bit your tongue to stop yourself from losing your mind. Kenma just goes back to gaming, eyes narrowing with effort.
"I could be dead in a week."
"You won't be."
"I could be," you say. "I could have a stroke at any moment."
"You won't." He mashes the buttons extra hard, so hard the plastic creaks. "And if you did, we'd know before you did."
The character dies much earlier than it usually does.
"How would you know if I had a stroke before I did?"
"It smells sour when..." His eyes finally turn your way again. "Whatever. It's fine."
"Fine to touch?" you say.
He beckons you over with a nod of his chin. "Yeah."
Pushing off from your seat, you walk over to where he's sitting. Kenma doesn't bother to stand. He tilts his head back, looking up at you with a slight smile.
Already, you can see them. The sharp, vivid white teeth behind his pale lips. They have the usual shape, but anything uncanny edge makes your skin crawl. It's something you can't quite place, maybe something not there at all.
To get closer, you slide a leg onto his chair, angling yourself over him the best that you can. You're surprised when his hand rests on your thigh for support.
"Don't look so scared," Kenma says, a bit too coy for your liking.
You hadn't realized you'd been making a face at all.
"Just don't bite me."
Kenma opens his mouth and his teeth catch the dim light, strange for how dry his mouth seems to be. His canines are slightly elongated, just a hair more than a usual human. Gingerly, you run your fingers across the front of his teeth, then down to their edges. There's almost a razors edge to them, enough that you can feel the ridges of your fingerprint catching.
"Sharp," you quip. You leave a pause for Kenma to respond, but then you realize he can't, not with his mouth open for you. He just watches you, eyes flickering from one of your eyes to the other.
This isn't intimate, you remind yourself. It's scientific curiosity.
It can't be intimate, because you like Kuroo. Not Kenma. No, you don't like it at all that his hands are around your waist and you're cupping his cheek with your free hand, that his breath somehow smells soothing-
His canines seem longer now. More jagged, sharp. You press the pad of your thumb against it and watch how your skin easily skins in, no resistenxe whatsoever. Then, you pull away. A drop of blood wells up at the spot; there's no pain whatsoever, but the thumb tingles, like menthol and cocaine, riveting and calming all at once.
Kenma leans into the palm of your hand, then cranes his neck ever so slightly to envelop your finger in his lips. It's the most delicate of touches, a ghost of a memory of a kiss, but when he pulls away, crimson has settled into the cracks of his lips.
"Your heart's beating-" his tongue runs over his lower lip. "Really fast."
Kenma pulls you closer, arms now tight around your waist. You don't know when you got so close, when your bodies suddenly were pushed together, but now they are--
and now your finger is in his mouth. The gentle, crushing pressure of suction surprises you, but not more than the desperate whine he makes when blood hits his tongue.
That buzzing had spread up your arm and you can suddenly feel it, feel how your heart runs heavy and fast for him. Kenma's eyes are so lidded, barely open, heavy with want, that you can barely make out how his pupils have narrowed into cat scratch slits.
"Oh," you babble. "Oh, it's--"
"Feels good?" Kenma isn't speaking, but you can hear his voice.
"Y-yeah."
"I can make you feel good." There can't be that much blood from that tiny spot, but Kenma swallows deep as if there is. "Anytime you want."
The plush of his tongue swipes up your digit. Oh, maybe you are bleeding out. Maybe he's killing you. You're hot and cold and weak and strong and, and, and--
"You never have to ask Kuroo for-"
The front door of the apartment slams closed. A familiar set of boisterous laughter echoes through the halls-- Bokuto and Kuroo are hone. When you pull away, Kenma gives no resistance, his eyes still fixated on you.
An unjust guilt rises in your throat. You examine your hand, expecting a torrent of blood, only to be greeted with the smallest blossom on your finger tip.
"Were we supposed to do that?" you whisper.
"It's fine." Kenma adjusts himself in his chair, pulling at his pant legs. "They'll scold me, not you."
That doesn't make you feel better.
"Thanks," you say, awkwardly heading for the door. "For the-- thanks."
"Hey," he's using his real voice this time. You pause, turning back to him to catch his wide, Cheshire grin. "Thanks for the snack."
i think it also means he's really into it when you do a lot of cute, domestic things. gets butterflies when he sees the laundry you've folded for your little household, and gets a little too excited when he finds you cooking or baking something yummy. loves it when you pack him a bento, and write him a little love note. he's a staunch feminist, so it embarrasses him a little when he realizes just how manly he feels when you cling close to him when weaving through a crowd together, or how important he feels when you watch him take his first few bites when you both have dinner together.
I think Iwa just really thrives in that traditionally masculine role. Just really to takes being a provider, protector, and pleaser. Def the kind of guy to touch his lady’s waist when he needs to skirt by her, and who gets up early to shovel your car out from the snow. Calls you at the supermarket when you ask him to pick up some groceries if he has a question about something on your list, and keeps an eye out for any interesting treats that you might like. Brings home flowers on the regular, and has a strict no checking work rule for the weekends because he values his quality time with you. Makes sure he’s always walking between you and the road, and stays eagle eyed for any unsavory figures. just a solid, dependable man.
I think Iwa just really thrives in that traditionally masculine role. Just really to takes being a provider, protector, and pleaser. Def the kind of guy to touch his lady’s waist when he needs to skirt by her, and who gets up early to shovel your car out from the snow. Calls you at the supermarket when you ask him to pick up some groceries if he has a question about something on your list, and keeps an eye out for any interesting treats that you might like. Brings home flowers on the regular, and has a strict no checking work rule for the weekends because he values his quality time with you. Makes sure he’s always walking between you and the road, and stays eagle eyed for any unsavory figures. just a solid, dependable man.
meet ugly with iwaizumi hajime athletic trainer where you’re catering the dessert table at the Olympic Training Center's End of Year Celebration. You’re covered up to your elbows in swiss meringue buttercream, iwaizumi is wrangling two drunk volleyball players about to vomit all over him, and there’s only one available bathroom left to use.
your eyes and his meet from either end of the hallway - he can clearly see you're covered in buttercream and you can clearly see two gigantic men being wrangled like puppies by the backs of their shirts, both slurring happily about how much they love volleyball and how much they love each other, bro.
in the center of the hallway, equidistant from either one of you, is the door to the only unoccupied sink on the first floor of the building.
of all the men in the world you would normally be willing to pick a fight with, a surly looking athletic trained with flexing biceps is not the first one you would choose to tangle with. but between your mixer dying on you, the two previous batches of buttercream that split on you, and the gigantic celebration cakes for the team, staff and the social media team still waiting to be frosted, you're willing to take your chances.
"hey!" he barks in shock, as soon as he realizes you're booking it to the door. Atsumu and Bokuto make alarmingly queasy sounds when he starts running in earnest to get to the door before you. "hey, stop! seriously?"
bokuto squawks, when Iwaizumi bodily swings his limp body across the threshold of the door, eyes narrowed at your buttercreamed hand just beginning to pull the door handle.
"pardon me," he says, low and deadly serious. "but i have two sick idiots about to blow chunks all over the walls."
"i have buttercream in my hair," you huff, eyes narrowed. "and three unfinished cakes waiting for me. i get you're in some sucky shit, but work trumps pukey people."
"urgh, iwa-san," atsumu mutters, strained, his forehead beading with sweat. "i think i'm gonna be sick."
"hold it in, you little bastard!" iwazumi barks, before turning back to you. "come on, can't you just wait 10 minutes?"
"i'm already running behind on my cooling and setting schedule," you snap back. "and i'll literally be done within in, like, two minutes!"
bokuto groans, hands coming up to hold his belly. "oh, man. i don't think i can wait two."
iwaizumi gives you a sharp look. "you want shit and puke on the carpets?"
"you want to fuck with my job?"
"i don't give a damn if your cakes come out late!" he snarls. "frankly, it sounds like you have bad time management skills."
"and you sound like you can eat my ass!"
at that moment, atsumu lurches forward, hand slapping over his face as he shoves past the two of you and steps over bokuto. before the door even closes, you can already the retching sounds of him vomiting into a toilet.
"oh shit, i'm gonna shit myself," bokuto mutters, pushing up onto his hands and knees, drunkenly crawling on all fours as he pushes open the door.
"oi! bokuto, at least stand up!" iwaizumi shouts, only to get a vaguely panicked "no way, man, it's about to come out!"
Iwaizumi gives up, rubbing his forehead and counting slow breaths, almost as if he's completely dismissed the fact that you're even there.
spite is like acid on the back of your tongue.
fine. fine. you're not unwilling to recognize when you've been defeated. but this is not how you go out against this guy.
unconditionally love
oh god his hands would be so rough
My piece for the MSBY: Game changer zine 💕
i can’t write and i only have my meager drawing skills to offer but pls accept my humble doodle of what i imagine osamu to look like when i read about omah 👉👈 it’s not very clean but i hope it’s okay omg 💦 i just wanted to let it out of my system 🙃
INSERTING MY FUCKING SELF HERE BECAUSE FUCK OKAY YOU TRYNA HURT ME DROP YOUR @ GIVE ME OSAMU ASKHDKJSDHA THE GLARE. would also love to be able to properly credit you.
Dilf!Osamu who’s unsure of what to do for your first Valentine’s Day together. Who doesn’t mind pulling out all the usual stops: roses, chocolate, presents, and a fancy dinner, but also knows that eating too much food and having a bit too much wine is definitely going to make his dick flag. Who also isn’t sure if you’d rather do something more intimate at home with him. Who wants very much for you to have an incredible Valentine’s Day that makes you feel loved and spoiled and pampered. Who confers with Atsumu (who suggests a pretty piece of jewelry and a low-key dinner out), Kita (who suggests taking on some of your chores, flowers, and a home-made gift that isn’t an onigiri), and Suna (who simply tells him to lay down some good pipe, because he has all the romance of a pair of dirty gym socks). Who asks you what you want for Valentine’s Day, and is surprised when you blush and tell him that you’ve already planned the day out, so don’t worry about anything.
Who wonders if this is all a test, to see what he will do. Who frets back and forth if he should get flowers or chocolate or a pretty necklace or maybe a nice purse? Who decides that he’ll get a lovely bouquet for you and ask Atsumu to get some of the French chocolates Atsumu had last year (apparently, Ushijima on the Schweiden Adlers has a buddy in Paris who makes the most exquisitely chocolate).
Who’s jaw drops when you tell him that he’s on pussy probation for the two weeks leading up to Valentine’s Day. Who sputters and protests at your idea, trying to logic you out of it.
“But–but for what!”
“Because, Daddy,” you murmur, pressing coy kisses against his and running a very, very distracting hand down his chest, abdomen, and dangerously close to his dick. His dick, who, by a damn near Pavlovian response, starts to stand up, eager to greet you. “It’ll make it so good when we have sex again on Valentine’s Day. You’ll cum so hard. Won’t it be romantic?”
He stares at you, laughing in disbelief and dismay. “It won’t be romantic when I cum in you on the first stroke.”
“Oh, speaking in strokes,” you drop your voice into that low purr you know he likes. His dick strains to attention. “No masturbating until then, okay?”
“WHAT.”
Who, for some insane reason, agrees to these terms. No cumming. No masturbating. Well, agree is a bit of a generous term for you-stopped-busting-it-wide-open-for-Osamu.
Osamu doesn’t like it, but he has to admit that there’s an incredible allure to the anticipation and build up. And it’s two weeks. He can do two weeks. He won’t like it, but if it’s what you want, he can do two weeks. He figures he’ll just throw himself into working and working out.
He does not, however, anticipate you being an outright demon.
He nearly drops his morning coffee when you come out from the bedroom, naked as a new born, and boldly press your ass right up against his dick, who’s desperate to remind you of his presence. You kiss his neck, rubbing his chest teasingly and hook your thigh around his waist, with a sultry “daddy, come back to bed, it’s the weekend”.
He throw himself into work and lifting weights, but that doesn’t help either. Not when all your clothes magically fall off when he’s home, you’re pressing your body right up against him, and pressing all the right buttons. Not when he wakes up to his dick in your hungry, eager little mouth and hands. Not when you quickly crawl up his body and press the tip right up into your entrance, drunkenly talking about how much you miss is cock, how good it’s going to feel when you guys finally have sex again, how much you miss daddy’s stretching your pussy out, how you wanna milk all of his seed until it’s in your pussy, your throat, your titties, your ass, your face.
“Want you to spend your cum all over me like an animal,” you moan, grinding your clit against his cock. Osamu feels his dick pulse hard and he’s sure that he’s about to but when you pull away and start grinding your pussy on his thigh until you cum. He thinks he just might cry.
He cracks on day five of your two week torture. It’s 2 AM, and you’re rubbing on his cock again, and filth is spewing from your mouth.
“Daddy,” you whimper, pussy juices all of his cock, his abdomen, his face (you gave him 30 glorious seconds to penetrate you with his tongue before you moved from his face, much to his despair). “Oh, Daddy, can–we can just do the tip, right? Just the tip? Please, it’ll feel so good.”
And he knows it’s a fucking trap. That you’re going to sit all the way down on him, eating up inch by heavenly inch no matter what he says, and that you’re gonna make it so good, before you take it all away. And Osamu isn’t sure he can handle that.
“No,” he nearly shouts, slurred and dizzy with arousal. The squelching sound of your pussy is nearly enough to tip him over the edge. “No, ‘s gonna make me cum.! ‘S too much!”
You whimper, and tilt your hips until the tip catches on the entrance. Osamu’s hands fly to your hips, grabbing hard, harder than he’s ever grabbed. He’s so close. God, if he just bucked up just a little bit…
“No,” he slurs. “No, bunny, no.”
“You can take it,” you whimper, and you sit right down on the head. Osamu’s head flies back, making strangled, garbled noises, like he’s been electrocute. Your cunt is so slippery and it’s already sucks him in to welcomingly, like his cock has was always meant to be there.
“No!” Osamu gasps, much more frantically now. “No! I can’t! I’ll cum, I’m gonna cum—“
“Daddy,” you moan, and you sit right down on the hilt. This is it, he thinks, Im going to cum. Not a goddamn thing he can do about it. Especially not when you’re rolling your hips like that, with all those low, crooning you’re doing.
“Ughhh,” he slurs, drunkenly, lightheaded, release mounting higher and higher in his belly. “Hnghh, ugh, ugh—don’t stop, don’t stop.”
You wriggle your hips, looking pleased as you lean down to kiss him. And then slowly, but evilly, you start lifting off his dick.
Osamu’s eyes widen, hands grabbing at your hips, hips thrusting urgently. “No, no! No, no, no, don’t stop, don’t stop!”
But you’re too quick and you’re giggling shakily as he’s left thrusting cool air. And finally, finally, against all his intentions and strength, Osamu begins to sob.
“Noo,” he moans, shuddering rolling over on his side, torn between jerking his cock at a punishing pace and being good and listening to what you asked of him. He cradles his cock tenderly, the head screaming with the absolute agony of losing all that blissful heat and silk. He’s still slick with your juices, the scent of your pussy making him tear up in earnest. “No, oh, God. Please. Please. Please. Oh, god.”
“Aww, Daddy,” you murmur soothingly, slotting yourself right behind him, your breasts hot against his back, hands tenderly caressing his arm and flank, before encircling his belly—
“No!” Osamu wails like he’s in physical pain, entire body clenched. “No, you can’t do that. It’s too much, it’s too much. I’ll cum.”
You lay off the teasing for a few days, just to let him recover a bit. Not that it helps. He still wake up, very hard, and he can’t help but grind the bed a bit to just try and take the edge off, but it’s like an itch. The more he scratches, the hotter and itchier it gets. You ease off the physical teasing, and instead start sending him selfies that have him moaning out loud and grabbing and shaking at his cock to get it to calm down.
He wakes up on Valentine’s Day with a wet pussy grinding languorously on his dick.
“You’ve been so patient, Daddy,” you smile, shyly. Osamu can only whimper when you begin easing your way down his cock, nearly vibrating with need. “This is your surprise. Happy Valentine’s Day. I’m just got on birth control.”
He makes it 17 desperate pumps, holding onto your hips as though he’s afraid you’ll slip away and blue-ball him again. He cums with a broken moan, half disbelieving and half in sheer relief. He pants and shudders in your breasts, mouthing at them like he’s trying to self-soothe.
You promise him that this is only to just take the edge off. And the rest of the day is wonderful. You’ve both taken the day off, you have some quick onigiris for breakfast and you spend the afternoon fucking and eating and watching TV and napping. In the evening, you make huge portions of carbonara that you both wolf down before you bring him downstairs to the Onigiri Miya kitchen and you reveal your surprise: homemade chocolate croissants, made with the French chocolate he gave you. You had prepped the pastry the night before, and now all that’s left to do is bake it.
Osamu isn’t a baker, and so he watches with rapt attention as your fingers tenderly lift the edge of the long triangle and begins rolling up until it form a crescent, the wedge chocolate on the inside of the pastry hidden from sight. His whole body feels warm when you spoon him from behind and gently guide him through the motions, your fingers caressing and touching intimately.
“There’s a bunch for at least four days,” you murmur shyly into his sleeve. “You take such good care of me. I want to take care of you, too.”
Osamu’s chest feel overfull and bright at your words. And the pain au chocolat is delicious, every bite flaky and perfectly bittersweet. It is a testament to your devotion to him, to have made something so complex, so detailed, with such love.
That night, Osamu take you in the shower before he make love to you in the bed. And he swears that on White Day, he’s definitely going to out-do you.
kjhahagkhjsd??!?!? Nini, I feel edged rn 🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴
Pls?? Now let's add in a spicy little dilf!Osamu who decides the best way to get you back is to cockwarm him. Who decides that's the cherry on top of him lapping at your puffy folds and curling his fingers inside your greedy cunt every day, making you whine and shake and sob as you grab at his hair. Who tells you the exact same thing you told him "It'll make it so good" as he watches you cry and grab at the sheets. Who hasn't let you do anything but sit pretty on his dick in the week leading up to White Day, who hasn't circled his finger along your clit in weeks, who gets such a rush of power when you arch into the feeling of him pinching at your tits or palming at your ass.
Who languidly strokes his dick in front of you and mourns that he can't fuck you sweet little pussy the way he wants while you try and change his mind, who love the feeling of you dripping all over his thigh when you try to ride it, loves the broken cry of his name when he stills your rocking hips and tells you to be patient. Who kisses you and cajoles you into admitting you love him too in return when he's smearing his cum along your skin, spreading it along your folds, over the soft skin of your tits, feeding it into your mouth and feeling you suck along his fingers as your eyes flutter.
I’ve given you dilf!Osamu, crybaby!Atsumu, supportive!Iwa, and shy!Omi but I think it’s time for a new character for my growing canon—
*inhales deeply* possessive dilf!Suna’s a Tokyo high school volleyball coach, once he stops playing pro. Who though he wouldn’t like the job at first, but finds that he rather enjoys likes coaching younger players, who all have varying dedications and varying reasons why they love volleyball. Who meets you, a young MFA candidate, while he’s getting drinks at Osamu’s Tokyo location. Who can take his dry and cutting banter and turn it right back on him, 10 times harder. You’re bantering with one of Osamu’s staff, who seems to be a friend, and you’re chattering on excitedly about your recent admission into the program of your choice and Suna can’t help but murmur under his breath “nothing wrong with getting another useless piece of paper for money”. You turn on him, clearly affronted.
“Says the man who was once a professional ball smacker and who’s, now, what? Teaching other boys to smack balls?”
Suna raises a brow at that. “I went to the Olympics, you brat.”
You smile sweetly. And somehow, Suna just knows. Knows he’s about to take the L. “I know. I saw. You were in your prime when I was a little girl. It’s a shame you
Osamu laughs hysterically at him, and Suna has to smack him to ignore the burst of butterflies (and heat) in his belly.
Who knows he’s attracted to you, but resists the attraction for as long as he can. He has a baby sister, you know. She’s an annoying pain in his ass, but he’d blacken anyone’s eye out for being mean to her, let alone let an older man get his hands on her and take advantage of her youth. Who knows he wants you so bad, but never lets himself go too far. Who thinks that you’re also probably just young, with a taste for danger, and you’re just curious about being with a bachelor in his 40s. Who doesn’t even let himself indulge in your curiosity, out of his genuine concern that if he were ever allowed to get his hands on you, he’ll never be able to let you go.
Who can’t help but keep going back to Onigiri Miya, hoping to catch a glimpse of you and hopefully draw you into another play-argument as he nurses a beer and rubs absentmindedly as his five o’clock shadow. (You had once said that facial hair was sexy, but that has absolutely nothing to do with why he started to let his grow out a little). Who feels something ugly churning in his belly when he sees you with a man your age. Who feels like some stupid 20 year old again, scowling and huffing and downing more beer. Who wants nothing more than to stomp over and to pull you into his arms and kiss you, right in front of the stupid little shit you’re laughing with right now. Who hates himself for letting some girl in her 20s for getting him like this. Who feels so guilty for wanting you hen you’re so much younger than him. Who misses the way you keep looking over at him, hungry and hopeful, all through the night until he storms out, bitter and ashamed.
Who avoids Onigiri Miya for a while, hoping that distance will be enough to kill his crush. But who finds that he can’t stay away from more then two weeks. Who comes back and chats idly with Atsumu and Bokuto, all while watching Osamu with his little girlfriend. Who’s gut tugs hard when he sees Osamu’s arms encircle her, and how Osamu’s girlfriend looks up at him with hearts in her eyes.
Who feels a burst of butterflies when you walk in by yourself. Who feels his palms sweat, as you sit down along the counter and order some tea and a few onigiris. Aran and Atsumu eye him knowingly, and grin behind their beers when Suna finally, FINALLY, gives up trying to hold out on the attraction and walks to you.
“Hey,” he says, heart hammering. You look up at him, lips parting in surprise. “Let me buy you a drink.”
Your eyes widen, before you come back with another witty retort, because of course you wouldn’t make it easy. “Maybe I want to make a point about how my MFA is gonna help me pay my bills and buy my drinks myself.”
“Then let me buy you dinner,” Suna says. “Let me buy you dessert, afterwards. Let me buy you whatever you want.”
His heart does a flutter when you smile up at him, cheek resting in your palm. “Are you trying to buy your way into my pants, you old dog?”
And Suna thinks then, he’s had quite enough of your sass, sitting down and boldly cupping your knee in his palm and give it a sensual squeeze. He has to admit, he relishes the way you inhale shakily and jump a little, looking like a caught little rabbit. It’s good to know he’s still got it, and that you want him.
“Have mercy on this old man,” he murmurs, leaning in close. Close enough for you to smell the beer on his breath, his cologne. “He hasn’t in a while, and he likes you so much.”
You blush a little, looking up at him through your lashes. “I like you a lot, too. I want a TKG onigiri and a curry onigiri . Now, please. Thank you.”
Suna gapes a bit, opening and closing his mouth because of course he had to go and start falling in love with an incorrigible brat. He wracks his brain for a comeback, before sighing and giving up. He’s too old to be arguing with a 20-something year old over if he’s actually going to buy her onigiri. He grumbles about disrespectful brats, all while Osamu gleefully takes his money and Aran and Atsumu laugh at him from up the counter.
It’s still worth it when you leave together, your hand in his, and the smell of rice on your mouth when he finally bends to kiss you.
I love him. I love him so much, your honour. Suna is just...so sexy and dilf Suna is even sexier... 🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴
Your latest dilf!Osamu not only had me craving him, but also croissants 😂😂 It’s not even 10am, but you made me hungry for bakery and I’m really tempted to run out and get some now asdfghjak
Dew it!!! It’s always time for a croissant!!
THE DILF OSAMU U SENT TO CHICOREEKXKMQLXJDK I AM SCREAMING ON MY KNEESJCOQMXOCK ITS SO GOOD HOLY FICKKSCMLWMZ🧎🏻♀️🧎🏻♀️🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼
Thanks! It’s based off a real-life experience I’ve had ✌️