@HAIKYUU : MAKE SURE TO GET IT ON FILM, BABY!

thunderstorms and reheated prawns

pairing; suna x g/n!reader

genre; domestic, fluff

warnings; puking, lame jokes, suna endearingly calls reader "(y/n)-chan"

a/n: a fanfic inspired by all the rain ive had lately, and the fact that my Ma made me prawns yesterday 🤷🏽‍♀️

The rain is relentless today.

It comes down in buckets as it hammers mercilessly at your window, running down the glass in thick streaks and sending the trees outside into a violent flurry. The sight of it alone is enough to make you shiver.

Luckily, it's far warmer inside your bedroom.

You're sitting on your bed with a heavy duvet thrown over your head like a makeshift tipi. There's a chill lofi beat playing quietly in the background, a warm cup of hot chocolate sits deliciously between your hands and you have no chores to tend to, having already sought to them the day before.

To put it simply, it's bliss.

That is until you get a text and you turn your head towards your phone that buzzes twice against the bedside table. Leaning over to retrieve it, your brows furrow a little when an odd message pops up under Suna's ID.

2 messages from Sunarin <3

hello (y/n) can you come over today big brother has a tummy ake and mummy and daddy are out

please thank you

You blink upon realising it's Suna's little sister who has his phone and you can't help but laugh at her message. You don't know what's funnier; his little sister not knowing how to spell "tummy ache" or the fact that she actually had to reach out to you for something as trivial as that.

Either way, after finishing the rest of your hot chocolate, you reluctantly crawl out from your little den, slip on some comfy clothes and head out the door.

*

"Knock, knoock."

You smile as Suna's little sister opens the door for you, albeit with a struggle since the handle was still a little too high for her. Like you this morning she's wearing her PJ's, giving her an overall relaxed appearance, save for her face which looks rather distressed.

"You need to come quick, onee-san! I think big brother's dying!"

You snort as she ushers you into the house, barely giving you time to take off your shoes as she pulls you towards Suna's bedroom. As you walk up the stairs you begin to wonder just how sick her brother really is. He seemed fine the last time you saw him— then again, Suna did always have the pesky talent of fibbing when it benefits him, like how he sometimes lies to his teammates about needing to babysit his little sister on Fridays just so he can have a longer weekend, or when he tells the twins he's deleted the videos he takes of them, only to bring them up for blackmail purposes later on. You wonder if perhaps this was another one of these instances and he'd simply faked an illness just so his little sister would leave him alone for the afternoon. (You knew how clingy she could get, especially when their parents weren't home.)

Still, you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt as you push open his bedroom door, only to wince as your boyfriend promptly vomits into a sick bowl.

Oh.

This time he's definitely not lying.

"Perfect timing, lil sis. Make yourself useful would you and fetch me a— (y/n)?"

You're torn between bursting out laughing or coo-ing at the sad scene before you. Your attractive boyfriend, usually standing tall (sort of) and looking all slick and sexy is reduced to nothing but a lump hanging off his bed, hair disheveled and sticking slightly to his forehead, his head half in the sick bowl, looking at you with the most disheartened, most sullen face you've ever seen.

"Just end me now, I guess."

This time you do laugh when Suna rolls back onto his bed, pulling the covers over his head like a moody teen.

"Wow, you really are worse off than I thought," you say as you start to approach his bed. His bedsheets rustle however as you take another step closer and you stop in your tracks when he speaks from under the covers.

"Out. I don't want you to see me in my decomposing state."

"Oh, don't be silly, Sunarin. This is what partners do. I'm supposed to help nurse you back to health." You walk to the other side of Suna's bed where the sick bowl isn't lying on the floor and gently rock him against the mattress. "Plus, didn't you just say you wanted your sister to fetch me?" You add with a smirk.

You watch as Suna worms an arm out from the duvets, blindly grabbing your wrist to stop you from shaking him.

"Stop moving me, you sadist. Or next time I'll aim it at you," he says, making you scrunch up your nose in disgust. "And no I didn't call for you, you just so happened to waltz into my bedroom."

You roll your eyes at Suna's usual bite, knowing it's nothing but bark. "You rather I tango in here instead?"

You bite back a laugh as your terrible joke makes Suna emerge from his bedsheets, the green eyes that poke out looking truly disappointed. "You dare come into my room and sully it with jokes like that."

"I know, I know. Sorry," you lie, before a grin makes its way to your face. "No but seriously, should I? Might bring a smile back to your face."

"Please don't," is all he says as he finally fully comes out the covers, sitting up against the bedframe, and although you know he's trying his best to fight it, there's that telltale twitch of his lips that indicate your goofing around has actually effected him. "What you can do is fetch me that glass of water." There's a short pause. "Please."

You smile, relieved that he's finally letting you take care of him. Then you notice that the hand he'd grabbed you with earlier is still holding your wrist. Switching roles, you take his hand in yours and bring it up to your lips, planting a small kiss to his inner wrist.

"Coming right up."

*

A glass of water with ice later and it's Suna who decides to join you downstairs. You hear his almost cat-like footsteps pad down the stairs and as you turn around you notice that he's freshened up a bit. His hair's no longer the hot mess it was earlier, instead it remains neat and unstyled, he's also wearing different sweats from earlier, that is to say the black joggings with the red stripe down the side of the leg that you'd gotten him for Christmas, along with the black sweater that you always love to borrow.

"Oh look, it's alive," you tease.

"Only just," he sighs before flopping heavily on the couch. He busies himself by switching on the TV and opening Netflix, which you recognise by the familiar opening screen sound.

"How're you feeling?" You ask as you place the cold water on the coffee table. Suna utters a quiet 'thanks' as he leans over to grab it, bringing it to his lips before taking a few swigs.

"Could be better," he drawls after downing almost the entire glass. "'Least I'm not blowing chunks in front of my s/o anymore," he mutters, voice still carrying traces of previously felt embarassement.

You chuckle at that, watching as Suna lays down on the couch, one arm thrown over his eyes. "Don't worry, Sunarin. I'm sure other couple's have seen worse," you say as you take a seat beside his head.

He stays silent as you gently pull his arm off his face. At first he looks at you with a cocked eyebrow, most likely wondering what you were up to, but once you place the back of your hand against his forehead, he allows himself to relax and closes his eyes.

"What's the verdict, (y/n)-chan? Am I dying?"

You snort and roll your eyes at his theatrics. "You're not dying, you big baby. How did you even get sick anyway? You don't seem to have a fever."

After concluding that Suna's forehead wasn't any hotter than it should be, you gingerly brush a stray piece of his chestnut hair from his eyes, smiling when he exhales pleasantly at the gesture.

"I think it was the prawns I made yesterday. I was the only one who ate them and I'm the only one who's sick."

As Suna tells you this, you immediately start to see where this is going.

"Were they pre-cooked prawns?" You ask. "And did you reheat them more than once?"

"Yeah."

You sigh. Yup. "That'll do it." Shaking your head, you poke Suna's forehead as a scolding, making him squeeze his eyes shut and knit his brows together. "You're not supposed to do that, you know. You can get really sick."

"You don't say," he drones, shooing your hand off with his. "How did you know I was sick, anyway? If I didn't know any better I'd say you were stalking me."

Your nose scrunches up jokingly. "Ew, why would I do that? If I wanted to stalk someone I'd at least go for one of the twin—"

You're promptly cut off mid-sentence when a pillow collides into your face with a dull thud and you giggle when you're met with Suna's eyes narrowing warningly up at you. "I'm just messing with you, Sunarin. Your sister told me. She somehow got access to your phone."

"The little toe rag."

"You trying to say you're not grateful I came over?" You ask with a raised brow, crossing your arms defensively.

"Didn't say that now, did I," he replies cooly, sitting up to face you before a tiny smirk forms on his lips. "After all," you make a small yelp as Suna suddenly worms his way into your personal space, his long limbs wrapping around your body like a koala and purposely giving you no means of escape. "Now I have the perfect pillow to hold onto. One that'll nurse me back to health too."

You gawk, trying to wiggle out of his hold, only for him to pull you closer. "Hold on a minute— What if I need to pee?!" He ignores you completely and deliberately, and instead lazily nuzzles into the area between your chest and collarbone.

"Night night, pillow-chan."

You throw you head back against the couch.

Looks like you're not going anywhere.

liv i have a question about ur dear suna,, in most fics he's smoking a juul/cigarette so does he ever blow that smoke into readers eyes to be a little shit after inhaling ?!

suna's favourite game is "hide the juul" where without his knowledge or permission you take his juul and put hide it somewhere without him knowing (esp in your own pocket) and then when he asks if you've seen it you say no and then watch him search for it in confusion and even help him out looking under pillows and stuff and then when he's at his wits end bc he cannot for the life of him figure out where it went u just take one like long drag off it and he hears the crackle and turns around with the least impressed look on his face bc u got him AGAIN (trust me he loves this game, keep doing it.)

CLEAN SHEETS

‎♡‧₊˚ ꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI. established relationship, suggestive fluff, language, just a lil warm up blurb for the main man !

“babe, babe.. tetsu!” you gasp out, a laugh escaping you as kuroo pins you against the bed, leaving a trail of kisses along your neck. he pulled back, a little confused on why you were laughing but the sound of it always brought a smile to his face.

“what is it, pretty girl?” he smirks, his fingers coming up under your chin to pull you closer before what would’ve been a searing kiss. “tell me.”

“i- not here.” you rush out. kuroo recoiled slightly, shock and confusion settling into his features. before he could say or do anything you finish your thought, “i just cleaned the sheets.”

“seriously?” he laughed, shaking his head in disbelief, like he didn’t know what to do with you.

“do you wanna wash them after, then?” you snap, teasingly. he contemplates for a moment before shrugging and picking you up. “hey! w-where are we going?”

“well if i can’t fuck you in our bed, how about the shower?” he purred, lightly chuckling as he brought your towards the bathroom. “since you’re so worried about making a mess.”

u kiss isagi in the parking lot and now yall have to stay in the car for 20 mins till his dick goes down

WARM CONVERSATION (suna x reader)

cw: breakup heavy, light mentions of reader going through it, angst to fluff i promise!!!! best friend osamu <3 kinda long im sorry, titled from sad beautiful tragic by taylor swift because what else would it be  

You should’ve known he’d come over. Should’ve expected it the moment you sent the text turning down his offer disguised as a reminder. 

A sick part of you almost wants to laugh as you reread the texts on the phone in hand. 

From: Osamu

ur coming with me to atsumu’s stupid thing tonight, right?

To: Osamu

absolutely not 

Not even twenty minutes later (which is impressive, considering Osamu lives at least thirty away from your apartment), an abrasive knock is on your door and you don’t even need to check the peephole to see who waits on the other side. 

The moment you open the door with unimpressed eyes, Osamu is opening his mouth to complain. 

“You’re shitting me, right?” 

Keep reading

i’m like black plus blue glitter if that makes sense.

— HQ BOYS + WHAT THEY WEAR

feat. iwaizumi hajime, kuroo tetsurō, miya atsumu, miya osamu, bokuto kōtarō, yaku morisuke, hanamaki takahiro, matsukawa issei

note. this also includes what they smell like. idc if u agree w these. i’m correct. objectively.

IWAIZUMI always smells like sweet tobacco when you get close enough. it mixes with his sweatshirt long enough that when you wear them, it swirls around you in a way that settles deep in your skin. (and, of course, there’s that scent of sea salt that rests on tanned skin. so when he kisses you, you almost swear you can taste it). so in that way, iwa will always remind of you feeling a little younger, of making stupid decisions just for the hell of it, of that first taste of independence that you’ll never get back.

KUROO smells like oak, something that could almost be the scent of leather mixing his skin. he’s strong when he hugs you, all encompassing as his arms find your body, pulling you in until all you know is the material of his shirt—either a flannel or a dress shirt, depends if you’re at a bar or not—and the scent of his cologne. and when he presses the lips to the top of your head, you know that he’s all encompassed by you, too.

ATSUMU smells almost like citrus—bright and sweet enough to pull you in and leave you smiling in his shoulder. he’ll make fun of you every moment he can, teasing you with the lilt of his voice and the bow of his head, but when you meet him with laughter, you find that his own is quick to follow.

OSAMU smells like a deep sandalwood. it’s the kind that buries into you and holds you close, the kind that twists around your whole body like it could keep you there forever. it’s almost warm, low and comforting and kind in a way that could only mean osamu. so when his thumb swipes against your cheek, when it follows the curves of your face, you allowing yourself to be consumed—by all of him.

BOKUTO smells like nutmeg, maybe a little cinnamon if you catch him on an especially good day. it’s the scent of those sweet spices, of something that feels a bit like home and that you know would taste sweet if it were to ever land on your tongue. it’s that mix of sugar and laughter and all things good that comes with bokuto. it’s enough to want him to hold your hand or your waist or whatever he may wish until the days become too long for either of you to stay awake.

YAKU smells like fresh pine, a little youthful in the way he smiles and teases you with every slip of his tongue. he draws you in with that damn taunting gaze, with the way his teeth poke out through that held-back smile, only to leave you with your eyes rolling and laughter threatening your voice. and he loves it. every second of it. so he does it everyday just to hear it over and over again.

HANAMAKI smells a little like acrylic paint—not the part that stings your nose and leaves your eyes watering, no. it’s the sweetness of it, the parts of him that are covered in little bits of red and blue from old art pieces. some days, he smells like the dusting of charcoal, of pen against paper—but no matter what, it’s him and it’s passionate and it’s more than you could ever ask for.

MATSUKAWA smells like clean linens. it’s hardly more than a suggestion of a scent, but when you get close enough—your nose buried in his collar while laughter pricks at his tongue—you can smell it. and it’s something that feels uniquely soft to him, something that you would know if it only passed by the quake of your breath, so it’s enough.

this was one of the most beautiful skies i’ve seen all year

do me a solid and just reblog this saying what time it is where you are and what you’re thinking about in the tags.

i have been told “your pussy is so good it makes me believe in god” before but never the opposite,…goals to attain i suppose