little tsukishima braindump
cw: suggestive in some parts
author note: slightly different style than normal but ykw fuck it
⟡ tsukishima pretends he's not obsessed with you, but it's hard to do that — he has everything about you memorized. the shampoo you use. the scent of your perfume. the brand of chocolate you like the most. your coffee/tea/drink order. everything about you is logged as important and so, he can't pretend.
⟡ he loves when you say his name. his name sounds so sweet coming from your lips, all sharp edges and lilted syllables. he bothers you enough to hear it again, holding things far above his head so you fight to reach. "kei," you protest, stretching your hands up to reach whatever it is his stole, "hand it back." he takes one look at your eyes, sweet, always so sweet, and secretly wonders how his name would sound in context that involved you in a slightly different position.
⟡ he kisses like he has something to prove. you challenge him on something stupid, and he's pressing you against the wall, his lips tracing a path down your neck and hands tracing patterns into the skin of your lower back. he likes you panting, breathless, confused enough to drop whatever it was your argument was. if you somehow manage to find it in the middle of all of that, he presses into you yet again, hands digging into your hips and lifting one of your legs to hook around his hips. if he's flushed to you, his cutie, he reckons he'll win whatever the debate was. after all — are you really thinking with his hips against yours, his mouth on yours and his hands sliding up your shirt? didn't think so.
⟡ his hands tell you far more about what he feels about you than his words ever do, his slender fingers hooked around your waist, your wrist, your fingers. touching you gives him clarity — he can feel your warmth beneath his fingers, and he knows you're all his. it's comforting.
⟡ he's obsessed with your skin. first time he ever kissed you, the feel of it him like a drug. so soft, so silky, he spends way too much time touching it. you could just be wearing shorts and his hands settle on your thighs, his fingers drawing patterns that somehow reach increasingly higher. you ask him what he's doing, feeling the heat course through your veins watching his hands. he'll be entirely nonchalant in his response, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips when he gently thumbs at the waistband of your shorts.
⟡ he's excellent at undoing tricky garments. bra? dismantled in two seconds. some complicated clothing with zippers or a close fit? he can peel it off in moments. he says it's his eye for detail, but it's just his desire to feel you close.
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micro iwaizumi braindump
cw: suggestive in some parts — read at your own risk!
author note: i had the thought and then i started writing
⟡ iwaizumi hajime respects your body like it is a gift from the heavens. the first time you showed him what you look like without anything else on you, he looked at you like you were nothing less than a masterpiece. every detailed drawing on the ceiling of the sistine chapel couldn't compare to the way that light hit your skin. the palace of versaille paled in comparison to your bone structure. every line, curve, or shape that made you who you were nearly brought him to his knees.
⟡ his hands are slow. reverent. he has his moments of passion, pinning you to the nearest countertop and fitting himself between your legs, but his favorite thing to do is take his time. his palms, warm and solid, trace you like you are precious, committing your feel to memory. he unwraps you like a present. you're for his eyes and his eyes alone.
⟡ he loves the mornings with you. sunlight streams through sheer curtains, the gentle glow of it illuminating your bare legs. you're in nothing but his shirt, skin marked in gentle kisses from last night — a pleasant reminder. you're brewing coffee when he slides up behind you, his lips buried in the crook of your neck and his hands beneath your shirt, holding your waist. skin to skin. the warmth of his palms nearly turns you into a puddle in his grasp, and he pulls you tighter, the broad planes of his chest pressing into your back. "mornin'" he mumbles into your skin, his hands sliding up your chest. "i think it's time for breakfast."
sweet things the haikyuu boys do - a quick lil braindump
ft: miya osamu, akaashi keiji, sugawara koushi, kita shinsuke, daichi sawamura
cw: suggestive content in some parts — read at your own risk!
a/n: kita anon <3 this is for you — ily (also if you have others you'd like to see, tell me!)
MIYA OSAMU:
⟡ if you have any softness to your body, osamu cherishes it like you are his personal gift sent from the heavens above. you could be sitting idly on the countertop, watching him cook, and one of his hands will idly come to trace your thighs. there's no motive, at least, not at first. he simply enjoys the feeling of your skin against his palm, plush and warm and all his
⟡ he loves to kiss your exposed skin. any bare skin under his eyes is skin for the kissing. you could be explaining something important, and his lips will trail down your bare shoulder, pressing sweet kisses to the tops and sides. even if you protest, he'll skate his lips down your arm and smirk just the littlest bit. he can't resist
⟡ he loves making out when your thighs are straddling his hips. his lips are on yours, hot and needy as his hands scramble for purchase on your hips. you press against him, feeling him, his need, his tongue sliding gently across the seam of your lips. "someone's needy," you smirk across into his mouth, pulling away just enough to see his lips, pink and kiss-bitten, reach for you once again. he stops just short of your face, cupping your cheeks lovingly before gently rolling up into you. your breath hitches. "yer' just so sweet. we'll see who's needy when i'm done with ya'."
AKAASHI KEIJI:
⟡ keiji loves your hands in any condition and always treats them gently. after a long day at work or whatever else you've been doing he'll come over to massage them a little bit, pressing kisses to your knuckles and fingertips. to him, they're the hands that work so hard to bring you two the life you want, and so he adores them. plus, the better loved your hands are, the better they'll feel gripped on his back when he....shows you how much he loves you
⟡ he loves to lay in your lap while you recap the events of your entire day. you're on your couch, keiji's head draped across your thighs. he smiles gently, tugging your fingers to comb through his hair. as always, he melts into your touch. your day doesn't have to be eventful for him to love these recaps — he simply enjoys the sound of your voice talking through a cute mug you found, or pretty places you want to visit with him. it's his favorite part of the day, being enveleoped in your scent, your voice, and feeling your lips pepper kisses to his forehead every now and then.
⟡ a guilty pleasure of his is sitting between your thighs as you read. in his personal opinion, books are so much more interesting when he's kissing your legs, pressing kisses behind your knees, and watching your thighs shake in anticipation. "what was that?" he mumbles, his lips slowly inching up your thigh. your face flushes, the book trembling in your grasp. "t-the main character is about to fight the prince. she thinks he's evil." you shiver when keiji's tongue traces a heart into your inner thigh. "oh?"
SUGAWARA KOUSHI:
⟡ koushi loves carrying you bridal style. there's something so whimsical about lifting you off your feet, holding your weight in his arms. he's especially happy when you loop your arms around his head and lean in to give him a kiss. he feels like the prince in a manhwa or shoujo manga
⟡ he loves kissing your neck. koushi is a big enthusiast of lazy makeouts. he traces little hearts into your skin when he presses you against the wall, his lips tracing a heated path down your neck, collarbone, and dipping to kiss your sternum. he does it specifically so he can feel your hands wrapped into his shirt, the sweet little hitches of your breath spurring him further
⟡ he loves when you just lay on top of him. there's something so comforting about it, his hands wrapping firmly around your waist and burying his face into the crook of your neck. he could just disappear from the world. usually these cuddle sessions stay wholesome until his hands wander beneath your shirt. he says it's just to feel the warmth of your skin, but before no time he's flipped you over and pulled one of your legs over his hips.
KITA SHINSUKE:
⟡ shinsuke loves holding your hands when you walk together. there's something so divinely perfect about the feel of your hand in his, your fingers lacing together like puzzle pieces that were crafted together. he can hold your hand for what feels like centuries, rubbing his thumb gently across your skin to remind you that he'll forever be by your side. when he gets the chance, he slides his lips over your knuckles, a reverent pledge of love
⟡ if you have any moles on your body, shinsuke kisses every single one of them. your arms. your legs. your chest. your face. his personal opinion is that it's a little personal treasure that he gets to find and cherish. he firmly believes in the idea that your moles are where your soulmates kissed you the most in a previous life. he ensures he kisses every part of your body enough so that if there's ever another birth where he finds you, you'll be covered in all the relics of his love
⟡ when the two of you make love, he's not done until you're done. the first time he told you this, he was so earnest about it, and sure you believed him, but you never thought it could be like this. "shin!" you choke out desperately, hands scrambling to grip something, anything. kita's lips drag down to your neck, nibbling ever so slightly, his one free hand wrapped around your back to keep you close. you whimper into his mouth, overwhelmed by the sensations of his hands doing things nobody's hands should be able to do. "is this alright?" he smiles, leaning to kiss your forehead sweetly while your thighs tremble around his hands. "ya' deserve to feel so good."
DAICHI SAWAMURA:
⟡ sawamura adores back hugs, especially when you're in his clothing. it's morning — early, but not enough to be offensive, and you're in his old jersey from his karasuno days, hung as a relic in his closet. he pauses at the sight of you, dripped in sunlight and angelic, thanking whatever force gave him this sight. he pads over on the kitchen tiles, sliding up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. in his arms, you're warm and secure
⟡ he loves having a hand on you at all times. it doesn't matter what it is you're doing, but he'll always be around. when shopping for groceries, he has an arm around your waist (it's just potatoes, but he's invested in them if you're beside him). you're working on a project and his hands massage your shoulders. you're watching a movie and suddenly, he's shifted you onto his lap. it's for warmth and comfort (he claims), but the reality is he's addicted to your presence
⟡ he might not seem it, but he is a hickies kind of man. there's something so.....romantic, he thinks, leaving hickies where nobody else can see them. it's your little secret. however, his style isn't just bite and bruise. no. it's not a good hickey if you can feel it at all. "oh my goodness." you shudder, a vice grip on his arm as his lips suck kisses into your skin. "please don't make me wait." daichi smirks. "you and i both know they feel better when you're blissed out. let me take care of you." with a grin, he goes back to trailing his kisses down your stomach.
