Idk How To Explain But Kirishima Would Be The Kid W Like A Full Ass Griddle Making Pancakes In The Back

I know people hate it but I love the best friend had secretly loved you for years trope

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.

You lean up against the door frame and watch. Mattsun hasn’t moved in a minute or so, his head buried into his phone as he scrolls endlessly. Every now and again he pauses, eye brows quirked, and then laughs to himself with a shake of the head. He’s still wearing his work clothes, but the suit jacket has been discarded and the tie has been loosened comically low. A green smear of wasabi is permanently ground into the elbow of one side of his otherwise pristine white button down, a remnant of late nights drinking after work.

“What’re you doing?”

Mattsun doesn’t even look up.

“Watching tiktok and putting the dishes away.” He jerks a thumb to the empty sink where dishes used to be. “I’m a multitasking.”

“I can see that,” you laugh, “Do you wanna have sex right now?”

Mattsun raises an eyebrow. Then, what you said seems to really hit him; the man looks up, puzzled, but interested. He practically throws his phone to the side, letting it slide across the countertop.

“Uh, not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but what brought this on?” he grins, coming over to you with open arms. “Did me doing the dishes turn you on that much?”

“I’m about to take a shower and I really don’t want to get sweaty afterwards,”  you explain, gesturing to your gym clothing, “But I can see myself possibly wanting cock later tonight, so I figured- hey, why not just do it now?”

Your arms snake around his waist and you tilt your head just enough to welcome a peck on the lips. Mattsun snorts, but happily obliges, giving you the sweet contact you desire. “And yeah, the dishes thing is a little sexy.”

“Aw, but I like you right out of the shower.” Mattsun presses his lips against your cheek, then down the curve of your neck,his love quickly turning lewd. The sharp nip of teeth surprises you, driving you further into his arms. “You smell so good and you’re so soft-”

“But then I’ll get sweaty again and need another shower in the morning.” You press both hands against his chest, unsuccessfully trying to keep your distance. Your husband’s curls tickle against your neck as he silently chuckles to himself, worming his knee in between your thighs. With height alone he can manhandle you, reaching and grabbing wherever he wants. “I thought you liked me dirty.”

“You have a point– I do like the nasty, sweaty thing.” At that, the velvet heat of his tongue flicks out and drags across your collarbone. You squeal and wiggle, equal parts ticklish and turned on. “When you’re all salty and-”

“Issei!”

You both dissolve into real laughter. His hands keep exploring, kneading and pulling your ass, exploring the plane of your back, and sneaking around to roll your tits in his hands.

Suddenly Mattsun stops, frozen mid-squeeze.

 “Oh, man,” he says, eyes wide, as he realizes what this means. “If we do it now, I can do laundry afterward so we can get real messy and still sleep on clean sheets.”

He grins down at you. “No sleeping on the wet spot! Planning sex fucking rules.”

“Stop, I’m already horny,” you say, half joking, “Keep talking about doing chores and I’ll cum.”

“And people say marriage ruins your sex life.” Mattsun lets you go and brings his hand down against your ass, hard enough you yelp at the sting and stumble forward. “Get in that bed and I’ll dirty talk about vacuuming or something, you fucking freak.”

“You seem hornier than I am, weirdo!” you scold, skittering off towards the bedroom. Much slower footsteps echo behind you.

“Hey, you started it.”

osamu + “we’re fake dating! why did you tell them we were engaged?!” for @amarinthe thanks for requesting this! it's probably one of my favourite prompts

the moment you open your front door, you kind of regret it.

because while your totally hot neighbour is standing in your doorway in his dark jeans and fitted black t-shirt glory, you’re rocking shorts and an unreasonably large sweatshirt.

“osamu,” you blink, tugging the hem of your shirt down a little. “hey.”

“hey,” he replies with a smile that makes your knees weak, holding up a takeout bag. “i brought some onigiri home. wanna share?”

thinking about the instant ramen currently boiling on your stovetop, you couldn’t possibly refuse his offer (especially if it’s from miya osamu, whose very successful restaurant is quite literally across the street).

so you open your door wider, letting him step inside and slip his shoes off while you move into the kitchen, placing two plates on the counter.

“so, how was your day?” he asks, unpacking the setting two onigiri on each plate. “anything interesting happen?”

you slide into the stool next to him, swinging your legs lightly as you munch on happily on the food. “not particularly, you?”

“actually, yeah,” he starts, taking his cap off and running a hand through his hair (you think it’s unfair, how good it still looks, even after spending all day smushed under a baseball cap). “my ma called today.”

“your ma?” you hum through a mouthful of salmon and rice. “what’d she say?”

he picks disinterestedly at the seaweed on his onigiri. “she, uh, asked that i visit home for dinner tomorrow night.”

“that’s sounds fun,” you start, pausing when he visibly grimaces. “unless it’s...not?”

“my brother’s bringin’ his girl again,” he shrugs. “and i know that means ma’s gonna be on my ass about why i’m not datin’.”

“yeah, i’ve had that conversation with my parents before,” you shudder, patting his shoulder in understanding. “the future, grandchildren, the passive-aggressive judgement from siblings. you should just call and say you’re sick.”

“can’t,” he sighs heavily. “i already cancelled twice. she may disown me if i skip a third time, or worse, show up at my place.”

it’d probably be funny, you think, seeing mama and brother miya across the hall, bugging osamu. “then maybe you should bring someone,” you suggest off-handedly. “just to keep them off your back a little. when was the last time you went on a date?”

when he doesn’t answer, your happy chewing slows, and you glance over at him. “jeez, that long ago? i thought you had more game than that, miya.”

a slow grin spread across his face when he meets your gaze. “last time i went out with someone was...four months ago, actually.”

“four months ago? that was around when we—” your eyes widen slightly, heat spreading to your cheeks. “oh. that...was not a date. that was a slightly intoxicated but very satisfying sexual exchange between friends.”

osamu chuckles, ducking his head a little and making those eyes at you (the ones that’d lured you into fucking him on your living room floor at two in the morning). “maybe don’t bring that up when ya meet my mom.”

“excuse me?” you laugh. “you cannot bring me home to meet your family.”

“why not?” he questions, looking genuinely confused. “you’re the one who suggested it. it’s just for one night anyway.”

“i just can’t!” you insist, looking at him incredulously. “i’d be nervous even if we were dating. what if they ask questions about--”

“i’ll give you free onigiri for a month.”

_____

“so, how did the two of you meet?” osamu’s mother asks as she pours you a generous glass of wine.

you freeze, blinking a few times. when you open your mouth, nothing comes out.

(it’s funny how, on the hour-long drive to hyogo, the two of you hadn’t discussed any basic information about your relationship. instead, you’d spent your time debating the best taylor swift album and making fun of the other tenants in your building.)

you almost flinch when someone places a hand on the small of your back, but relax when osamu’s faint cologne meets your senses. “actually it was the day after she moved in next door,” he says. “i brought some onigiri over because she’d asked me that morning where the closest grocery store was so i figured…”

you smile fondly, recalling the day you’d run into him at the mailboxes, and he’d shown up a few hours later with food. he’d claimed they were just leftovers even though it was mid-afternoon.

“i can’t believe you remember that,” you murmur.

he hums quietly, gaze flicking over your face briefly. “i guess it’s just when i knew.”

you’re sure that your heart stutters in your chest. surely he’d stolen that from some cheesy romance flick?

“how long have you two been together?” his mother follows up with, glancing between the two of you expectantly, a slow smile spreading across her face.

“eight months,” you say.

“almost a year,” osamu answers at the same time.

across from you, atsumu hides a smile behind his glass of water.

“i mean, who’s counting?” you laugh, quick to recover, reaching over to your ‘boyfriend’ blindly, meaning to pat his shoulder but instead catching him on the cheek. “time flies when you’re in love.”

you turn to stare at osamu when you feel him clasp your hand, pressing a kiss to your fingers, lips curling against them.

your stomach flutters a little at the gesture.

“‘tsumu,” he continues, redirecting the conversation. he rests your clasped hands on the table, thumb brushing the back of yours gently. “i thought you were bringing your girlfriend.”

“oh, she’s at her place doin’ some packing,” he answers easily. “she’s movin’ in next week.”

“that’s great news!” their mother beams, osamu’s hand tightening around yours as he blurts,

“yeah, well, we’re engaged!”

this time, you choke on your bite of chicken, almost hacking up a lung as you whip your head towards your neighbour/friend/fake boyfriend turned fake fiancé.

he shoots you a pleading gaze as he rubs firm circles on your back, and when you finally dislodge that traitorous piece of meat, you draw a slow breath and sigh. “babe, i thought we were going to wait until you made it official.” you lift your left hand, pointing at your empty ring finger before turning back to his mother and brother. “do you mind if we step away for a second?”

they both wave you off, and you snatch osamu’s wrist, dragging him out the back door, making sure it’s shut tight before you whisper-shout,

“we are fake dating! why would you tell them that we were engaged?”

he rubs his hands down his face, groaning. “i’m sorry, i panicked! it’s just that when atsumu mentioned moving in i got weirdly competitive because we’re twins—”

“so naturally you told your mother we were getting married? what’s next, atsumu mentions a joint bank account and you tell them that i’m pregnant?”

osamu lowers his hands to peek at you. “can i actually do that?”

“no! this is so not worth the free onigiri!” you growl, smacking him on the shoulder a few times, osamu yelling in protest.

(inside, atsumu and their mother peek out the kitchen window to watch the both of you, the latter murmuring, ‘definitely engaged.’)

_____

“you cannot tell that story in your toast,” you laugh, three years later with a very real engagement ring on your finger.

“why not?” osamu whines, completely invading your side of the bed to wrap his arms around you. “it’s how we got together, isn’t it?”

“by lying to your family.”

“soon to be your family,” he reminds you happily. “and i didn’t have to lie and tell them you were pregnant.”

hockey au sero, who looks so much beefier with all that padding–

he wipes his broken nose on the back of his glove and sheepishly tells you that, yes, he’ll wear his helmet during practice from now on– he’ll wear his helmet ALL of the time

he’s always drinking mass gainers and protein drinks, begging you to go out to dinner with him after practice even though he’s all sweaty and tired, because he’s trying to keep his weight up during the season 

your TAGS i cannot afford to fall in love with another miya brother PLEASE i will die

Osamu crowds you against the worn door at the top of Onigiri Miya’s narrow back stairwell, drawing a heated palm up the curve of your side through the thick felted wool of your coat.

“Cut it out,” you giggle as he jostles your hand- key clasped tightly in your fingers- away from the rusty lock.

“Don’t wanna,” he protests, dipping his nose into the hollow of your temple. You can feel his smile against the top of your cheekbone. He still smells smoky and savoury from the teppanyaki place, with the warm flush of two- no- three glasses of red wine rising to his cheeks. He isn’t drunk, but even if he was, it wouldn’t show.

“That was the best goddamned steak I’ve ever had,” he mumbles into your hair, curling one thick forearm around your middle.

Not drunk on wine, anyway.

“Yeah, I’m…” You trail off, concentrating long enough to get the key in the lock, turning and pushing inward. You have to brace your shoulder against the door a little to shove it open, since the frame’s a little warped, and together you stumble into the entryway of the tiny apartment above Osamu’s shop.

“I’m pretty sure it doesn’t get any better than that,” you finish, but he’s not interested in finishing this conversation anymore.

Osamu flips you around between his hands, bracing both palms on your hips and dipping his forehead to yours. The soft strands of his dark hair come loose and fluffy away from whatever style he’d mussed it into earlier that evening, sharing the bathroom mirror with you as you slipped on your rings and adjusted your top.

“Hmm,” he sighs, and his shoulders drop with all the bliss in the world. “I love ya.”

“You’ll say anything on a full stomach,” you purr, planting your hands on the soft plane of it. He lets out a low grunt and slips a hand into the folds of your coat, pinching the tenderest part of your waist to make you yelp.

“I love you too-mph.” You’re cut off by the courteous press of his mouth to yours, and after a heartbeat of polite fumbling, you settle into the rhythm of his kiss and let him slowly divest you of your coat.

You tilt your head to one side, gasping quietly for breath and letting him trail wine-flavoured kisses down the bared column of your throat. He’s setting your skin on fire, lifting shimmering sensations to the surface that the wine in your own system only amplifies.

“Mm-bedroom,” you sigh.

“Don’t hafta tell me twice,” he mumbles into your skin.

Once you get there, however, he tugs you into his arms, collapses backwards onto the bed, and doesn’t move. You give him five whole seconds to do something, and when he fails to, you stir in his magnetic hold.

“Baby?” Your voice comes soft and prompting.

“Mmm?” He opens one eye, peering down at you over the curve of his cheek.

“Weren’t we about to…?”

“Oh, god, no, I can’t,” he groans. “I’m so full I could die. Y’don’t want me messin’ around in there tonight, promise.”

“But…” You can hardly protest. The longer you lie there, the heavier dinner’s weight begins to settle in your gut. He’s right. Expecting sex after all-you-can-eat teppanyaki was beginning to feel like expecting snow in Mexico.

“Let’s do it in the morning,” he brushes, and that pulls a giggle from your chest. When you lift your head, the little smirk that tugs at the corners of his lips proves that he’s still having fun.

“I’ll make it up to ya real good. I swear.”

And the next morning, in sun-drenched sheets of white linen, he does.

WAIT I KNOW WE ALL LOVE GIRL DAD SUNA…… but imagine suna with a little boy 😞😞😞 little suna that shares everything with his dad….. from the same eyes to personality 😞😞 you come home from work one day and the two are just sprawled on the couch watching recordings of volleyball games with the same deadpan expression while suki runs around in her little tutu and tiara offering them tea LOL 😞😞 THEY HAVE THE SAME POUTY EXPRESSION WHEN THEY FIGHT FOR CUDDLES FROM YOU !!!

please suna with a little boy who looks and acts exactly like him. who was probably the quietest baby ever and is probably the opposite of his sister. who people often see napping on your shoulder during late night, post-game interviews. who, like his father, you'll come home to find watching paw patrol while wearing a spare tutu and sipping apple juice out of a teacup bcs he can't say no to his big sister's shenanigans.

and if suki is a daddy's girl, then this one is a mama's boy for sure. the one who crawls into your bed and squishes himself between the both of you in the middle of the night, stepping on rin's face in the process. who rin has definitely given the side eye for taking up all the cuddle time while suki is at school (and gets the side eye right back)

i am so tired. can we normalize knowing what plagiarism is and not rewrite another fic author's plots wholesale/entirely scene for scene :'(

You don’t win alone. That’s just how it is.

different types of kisses w hq men !

good night kisses - kita, akaashi, atsumu, TSUKI, sakusa, hinata, bokuto, oikawa, suga & osamu

kisses in which, you've already said goodbye but he can't help stealing another one. - OIKAWA, kuroo, atsumu, matsun, SUNA, hanamaki, daichi & kunimi

kitchen counter make-outs - ATSUMU !!, kuroo, suna, oikawa, IWAIZUMI, sakusa, meian, ushijima & aran

soft kisses while cuddling in bed - kenma, tsukishima, osamu, atsumu, sakusa, tendou, bokuto & kageyama

i missed you kisses - oikawa, suna, atsumu, kenma, sakusa, ushijima, kageyama, MATSUN, hinata & sugawara

a kiss on the cheek that turns into a kiss on the lips - KUROOO, akaashi, iwa, ushijima, yamaguchi, osamu & komori

one small kiss, pulling away for an instant, then devouring each other. - suna, ATSUMU, sakusa, KAGEYAMA, tsukishima, kuroo, IWAIZUMI !!!, meian, romero, daichi & matsun

top of head kisses - SAKUSA, tsuki, kuroo, ushijima, meian, AKAASHI, sugawara, daichi, semi & iwa