I NEED YOU TO FIGHT SOMEBODY FOR ME!

GENRE: fake texts, humor, it’s so unserious

FEATURING: gn!reader, miya atsumu, miya osamu, hinata shoyo, + kageyama tobio

NOTES: sfw. established relationship. tell me who you think actually won their fights and who got their asses beat 😭

olympic team hq!! // fic recommendations

note: remember to read the tags! + i do not own any of these works ⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*

atsumu

kageyama

sakusa

oikawa

ushijima

bokuto

online communities are so strange because people slip away so easily. you can be on here for years, folding people you've never met into the fabric of your daily life, and then they disappear, leaving only ghost posts scattered across tumblr behind. or their blog stays dormant, for weeks, months, years, until you're only still following them because you remember that they love sunflowers or they were kind to you when they didn't have to be or the last thing they posted was sad and raw and you still worry about them sometimes.

and sometimes they come back when you least expect it, years later, even, and there's this sudden rush of relief like there you are, there you are, even though you barely knew each other.

there's a strange kind of love to it. i don't know you and i want to hold your hand across miles and time zones and oceans. i can still see the imprint of you in this community you left. you don't think anyone will notice or care when you're gone, but we notice and we care and we wish you well.

i hope you're all okay out there. i hope the sun is shining on your face and you are breathing deeply. i miss you.

no reader, Schweiden Adlers sillyness

The Jackals are famous on TikTok, incredibly active and naturally funny. With Sakusa as their tripod, the comments ranged from thirsting to giving the cameraman a pat on the back.

Hoshiumi stared at said TikToks angrily before looking up at his two youngest teammates, Kageyama and Ushijima. He had to do all the work himself, like some single mother.

“Being popular on TikTok is everything,” he told them matter-of-factly, standing up on the bench so he could be at eye level with them. “We have to surpass those dogs if we want any kind of status.”

“I would think winning games is more important for our status as professional athletes,” Ushijima answered, and it would have seemed mildly sarcastic if Kageyama hadn’t agreed so seriously.

“They’re making a fool of themselves,” the youngest added, nose scrunching thinking of Hinata’s last feature on the account.

Hoshiumi smacked his lips and huffed in disbelief. “You don’t get it. Popularity gets us sponsorships. I don’t care about you guys being the faces for Asics or whatever. What about me?!”

The other men blinked at him and shrugged, way too used to Hoshiumi standing on things to yell at them. “What trend do you want to do?” Ushijima asked innocently.

Kageyama snorted. “Want us to lift you on our shoulders because we’re jacked and kind?”

Their captain ended up banning the three from using the TikTok account. Even Hoshiumi’s bright white hair turned grey from trying to manage it.

masterlist

[3:19 PM] - Suna Rintarou

Warning: smut . Aside from volleyball, Rintarou was naturally gifted with the camera.

He had captured some of the most exquisite and breathtaking photographs of Y/n, making it look like they were professional shots.

He also possessed a collection of the most embarrassing shots, which he kept strictly to himself. There were also a few special ones that were meant for his eyes only, capturing intimate moments between them.

How He Shows You Affection: Suna Rintarou

This was a request, but I unfortunately had to delete the original post because it wasn’t showing up in the tags! I hope you see it though anon and thank you so much for requesting!

Post Time Skip/Manga Ending Spoilers!

Warnings: Just a little hint of implied NSFW but mostly fluff!

How He Shows You Affection Masterlist - Character Masterlist

Thank you as ever to the amazing and beautiful Tay @deathcab4daddy​ for not only beta-reading for me, but for helping me figure out these stupid tags 😭

He Takes Pictures of You

           The familiar sound of a phone camera clicking had you blinking awake. You’d almost been asleep, but the sound had pulled you from the depths, and you blinked blearily up at your boyfriend. As per usual, he was the clear culprit, his phone out and pointed in your direction.

Keep reading

Time to Cool Off

Osamu Miya x reader

~ Osamu knows that a busy dinner rush can make even the most experienced workers run hot. That’s where you come in.

 W.c: 1.9k

Warnings: Karens, Swearing, The Service Industry

a/n: This one goes out to everyone who has ever had to cry in the walk in (I know I have)

enigmatic kalopsia

LATE WINTER.

The train rocked gently, passengers all in the comforts of their seats patiently waiting to get off their stop. Some were tuned to things – a book, their phone, twiddling fingers, enclosed hands, loose fabrics from their shirts, strands of their hair, anything to fill in the moment.

A few had chosen to stand, some by the middle or by the doors.

One such figure, with a guitar case strapped around her back, stared out. Blankly. Completely blank written to her eyes and her face. One arm wrapped around the railing, to keep her grounded, the other holding on to her elbow. Blank eyes stared out the train window, watching the world in a blur accompanied by a sense of loneliness, emptiness. As though she’d been drained whole.

Feeling the train slow, she adjusted her figure, letting bodies pass by her.

Her body felt heavy, tired. Hollow and numb. Empty. Drained.

Her mind was a mess, desperately needing something. An escape.

Feeling the train move, something came to her.

As though struck by lightning, her body jolted, standing straighter.

An idea struck her.

Keep reading

Kamomedai Fic Recs!!(Tumblr/AO3/Wattpad)

Haikyuu! Fic Rec Masterlist

KAMOMEDAI

Hoshiume Kourai x Reader

Hirugami Sachirou x Reader

𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒 — hirugami sachirou

You’re sitting in the waiting room of the clinic, fingers tapping nervously on the armrest of your chair. It’s quiet—too quiet for your liking. Butters, the orange tabby cat you’d rescued off the road about four years ago, sits on your lap, curled into a little ball. A rare sight for him—he’s usually energetic, bouncing around your apartment and knocking things off counters. But today, he’s still and lethargic, his usual playfulness replaced by a soft, uncharacteristic meow every so often.

To you, it’s quite unsettling.

You scratch behind his ears, trying to calm his and your nerves simultaneously. You’ve never seen him like this and to say that you’re freaking out is an understatement.

The vet's office is strangely comforting in the way that it smells like a mix of antiseptic and something sweeter, maybe the flowers sitting on the nearby windowsill. Butters lets it another quiet meow, and you rub your hand through his fur gently. You can feel his warm body under your fingers and you can’t help but frown, worry coursing through your veins.

The door that presumably leads to the back opens, snapping you out of your thoughts, and a young man walks through. He looks around your age, tall with sharp features. His brown hair is tousled like he’s just gotten out of bed, but somehow still effortless put-together. His uniform is slightly wrinkled, but there’s something about the way he carries himself that makes you think he’s still in control of everything around him. Even with the slight disarray of his appearance.

A part of you feels guilty for finding this man attractive while your sick cat sits in your lap. The other part of you wants to take this man out for coffee and learn about every single one of his flaws.

He meets your eyes and smiles briefly, walking over to you with a calm, professional demeanor. His eyes flicker to Butters, unmoved from his previous spot, and his brows furrow slightly.

“You’re Mrs. L/n, right? And this is Butters?” His voice is deeper than you had expected. “I’m Dr. Hirugami, but you can call me Sachirou.”

You blink at him a couple times, a little taken back. His smile is kind, eases the nervous feeling in your stomach. His gaze seems more focused on Butters, though, so you also look down. “Uh, yeah. He’s been acting really weird lately. He’s usually a high-energy cat—likes to bounce around my apartment like he’s playing tag with something. But recently he’s been staying in one spot, barely even having the energy to eat.”

He hums, crouching down in front of you, eyeing the cat in a quick, practiced assessment. You don’t know why, but it makes you nervous. He meets your eyes again, then stands, putting his hands on his hips. “We’ll get him all sorted out, okay?” He nods once, then jerks his head towards the door he came through. “If you follow me to the back, then we can take his temperature and do a proper check up.”

Wordlessly, you stand and follow him to an examination room. It's a friendly room, you think. There’s a few posters of different animals and the room is painted in bright, childish colors. It makes you smile.

“Alright,” he says with a soft clap of his hands, once again pulling you from your thoughts. “I’m going to take his temperature now, just a quick check.” He gently takes Butters from your grasp and sets him down on the examination table. Butters doesn’t resist, his little body limp as he looks around the room with wide eyes.

You watch as he performs a few quick checks, making quiet murmurs to himself while you fidget in a chair. It takes a few minutes, but eventually he straightens and turns to you.

“He’s running a mild fever, but it’s not anything too serious,” he reassures you, though there’s a look in his eyes you can’t quite place. “I’ll give you some medication for him, just to help bring the fever down. It should help him for the next few days, but if he doesn’t seem better by then, come back.”

You exhale a relieved breath, your heart relaxing in your chest. Butters condition isn’t critical, but the thought of him being unwell for the next few days makes your stomach tighten again. 

You give him a weak smile, a feeling of gratitude washing over you. “Thank you so much, Dr. Hirugami,” you say, your voice soft but sincere. You want him to know that you're grateful.

“Please,” he says with a chuckle, “just call me Sachirou.” His tone sounds warmer, you think. “It’s my pleasure, anyway. It’s always nice to meet a cat owner who actually cares for their companion. Butters is lucky to have you.”

Heat rises to your cheeks and you look down, unsure of how to respond. Butters lay on the table, letting out another soft meow. You absentmindedly reach over to scratch the back of his head, letting your fingers comb through his soft fur.

When you look back up to say your thanks once again, you’re surprised to find him already staring at you, his expression thoughtful as he taps his pen against his clipboard. You can’t help the way he seems to linger on your lips for a second longer than necessary.

“So,” he starts, his voice casual but now with an edge to it, like he’s shifting the conversation into new territory, “I was thinking… Since you’re obviously such a good cat parent, maybe you’d want to stay in touch? Keep me updated on Butters progress over the next few days?”

You stare at him, taken aback. There’s something undeniably bold in his suggestion, his confidence radiating through the words as if he’s fully expecting you to agree. You find yourself blinking a few times, once more unsure of what to say.

He smiles, clearly noticing your hesitation, and then adds, “Or not. It’s okay, either way.”

You can’t help but chuckle a little at the way he says it, the idea of a vet offering to stay in touch over something as trivial as cat health updates is strangely amusing. But his eyes are still on you, waiting for an answer. You find yourself considering the offer—after all, you know you would appreciate knowing how Butters is doing, and you could always use someone knowledgeable in case something else came up.

“Yeah,” you say with a nod, finally giving in. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt.”

He grins, the smile turning just a little bit more playful. “Great. I’ll just need your number then, if you don’t mind.”

You hesitate for a moment, but before you can second-guess yourself, you reach for your phone and hand it to him. He taps in your number with quick fingers, his hands brushing yours for a split second.

“Thanks,” he says, his voice lower now, almost teasing. “Just making sure Butters gets the best care.”

You feel a small flutter in your chest at the unexpected turn of events. You try to hide it behind a smile, but your mind races as you watch him walk out of the room, your cat still resting in your lap. The moment is over, but something tells you this won’t be the last time you’ll be seeing Dr. Hirugami.

boyfriend texts | r.suna

-> pairing: suna rintarou x gn!reader | sfw | cw: smau, cursing, u and suna having a diva off, kys/kms jokes, none of the texts r connected to each other | genre: fluff, crack (a smidge) | mlist

-> rq: random texts between you and your boyfriend, suna

—a/n: idk if i like these tbh but it is what it is

tag: @cherrysurf (who also beta’d against her will ty)

will probably make this a series. i just love this team so darn much *sigh*

[atsumu version]

this fic features…

Set the scene: the MSBY quartet shuffle into frame, they each take their seat in front of the iconic blue backdrop. You hear Hinata and Bokuto exchanging lively words, Atsumu fixing his hair so it swooshes the right way, and Sakusa removing his face mask and handing it to their team’s pr manager who accompanied them to this shoot.

𝓓𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝓕𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝓗𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃!

oh future husband, better love me right!

part two can be read here.

dear future husband m.list. // hq. masterlist.

ATSUMU MIYA.

“Relationship advice?” You repeat, sitting across from the NHK interviewer, mic strapped to your shirt as a camera filmed your living room. She nods, smiling while holding a microphone of her own.

“Yes! Tell us, what is the secret to a healthy relationship?”

You tilt your head, “Well, I guess I have some advice to give.” Your fingers drum against the armrest of your couch as you sit in thought, contemplating on what to tell the reporter, “hmm..”

Atsumu sitting beside you laughs, his arm slung comfortably over your shoulder, “I have some advice I’d like to give as well.”

You turn to him with a grimace. “I don’t want any young viewers following whatever is about to come out of your mouth, ‘Tsumu.”

He looks at you offended; reeling his arm back to his side, shock spelled out all over his face. “Excuse me, I’m great at romance. I romanced you, didn’t I?”

“Unfortunately,” you jest, with Atsumu exclaiming in protest, “But this isn’t just about romancing someone, ‘Tsumu. They’re asking what makes a relationship a healthy one.”

“So?” He shrugs, “A healthy relationship is one that’s full of romance.”

“I apologize for him,” you playfully tell the interviewer, ignoring the look Atsumu gives you in response, “He’s not the best at this sorta stuff.”

She merely giggles, “No worries, the players are allowed to give their own opinions as well.” Atsumu puffs his chest out, “See, babe? She said I can talk too.”

“Yeah well, just make sure to cut out whatever he says in the final broadcast,” She lets out a snort at your jab, hiding the smile that creeps onto her face behind her microphone while Atsumu shoves your shoulder in despair.

is your girlfriend single?

characters: atsumu, suna, bokuto

warnings: mentions of sex in suna's, timeskip!

note/s: i do not feel like writing a new piece rn so here's a lil repost from my old account

(ushijima, iwaizumi, sakusa)

atsumu: 

the setter was doing a livestream, he was bored and you were doing a grocery run, so he decided to tweet the hashtag #AskTsumu five minutes before going on live. 

once he started filming, he first greeted his viewers and thanked them for their support towards the previous games against the adlers. 

“right. let’s get started on the questions.” he says, placing the phone down and clasping his hands together. 

“Hypothetically-“

“Absolutely not.”

The words don’t even get to pass your lips before Rintaro grumbles, knowing that whatever you’re ‘hypothetically’ gonna do, the event has already been done, and you don’t care what he says. It’s late on his side of the world, just freshly afternoon in yours, and despite you telling him that he didn’t have to call you every night if he was too tired, for the past three weeks, he still made his mission to.

And tonight, apparently, the gods are gonna make him regret it.

“You don’t even know what I was gonna ask!”

“Don’t have to,” he yawns. “Already know I’m gonna say no.”

“Do not!”

“I so do.” He rubs his tired eyes and leans back against the hotel bed, staring up at the pristine ceiling. Nothing like the countless spider-remains on your own shared ceiling. “You’re gonna ask if I’d be okay with something, or if you can buy something, or if you can go somewhere, knowing you already have done it. So, since I know my answer doesn’t matter, I’m gonna just say no. I don’t want you to do whatever you’re doing.”

He practically hears you pout over the phone, and he tenses slightly. Gnawing at his lips, he sighs, “fine. How many cats are in our house right now?”

“None!” You swear. Then, he hears a ding, “and… neither am I.”

“What? Where are you? What was that noise?”

“I’m in an elevator.”

“What? What elevator?”

“No,” you say, letting out a shaky sigh.

“What do you mean ‘no’? That wasn’t a yes or no question.”

Silence falls over the line, and he furrows his brows, an unease settling in his chest. His hands get clammy, his heart rate picking up and he quickly sits up.

“Where are you?”

“I’m right outside your room.”

His heart stops. His eyes widen and dart over to the crisp white door that separates the privacy of his room from the quiet hallway that may or may not have your frame in it. “I’d ask if you would be okay with it, or okay if I bought the ticket, or okay with me being here, but since you said no-“

“Don’t you move,” he rasps over the phone, quickly scrambling to the door. He trips over his own socks and feet with breathless pants, and he wastes no time in flinging open the door to, indeed, reveal you, in a shirt with his number on it.

“I’ll have to call you back,” he whimpers into the speaker before tossing his phone carelessly, enveloping you in a bone crushing hug. You laugh as he buries his nose in your hair, taking inhales of your scent and taking in your arrival, as if not believing you’re truly in front of him.

“Komori gave me the hotel and everything,” you say from his chest, as if you’re not smearing snot on his shirt, yourself. Then, you angle your head up to look at him, “said you miiiiised me.”

And Rintaro wants to, desperately, tease you, tell you he couldn’t care less if you were here, or tell you to get on the plane because you ruined the mood.

But instead, all he can do is hold you tighter and murmur a croaky “so fucking glad he did,” into your head.