Back Again!

[The Bad Batch x gn!reader (headcanons)]: Wearing their t-shirt

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Summary:

Each of the Bad Batch members react to your wearing their t-shirt.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: None, pure fluff. Not proofread.

Enjoy!

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HUNTER:

He is completely smitten at the sight of you wearing his black t-shirt, one that he usually matched with his civilian clothes.

He came into your shared bunk to check some stuff about medical supplies and he found you trying out his black t-shirt. It wasn't oversized, but it wasn't super tight on your body, either.

He leaned on the side of the bedframe, smiling to himself.

"It fits you. You should keep it."

You're startled by how stealthy and quiet he was.

"You think so?"

He nods, hugging you from behind, pressing his chest against your back.

"Of course. Keep it."

He feels very protective over you, especially when you're wearing his clothes.

He acts like he doesn't mind, but in reality, he wouldn't mind you trying out his clothes more often.

ECHO:

He came back from a mission to your shared apartment just to see you with his pyjama shirt on and he instantly turned red.

You were watching a holomovie, hugging a cushion against your chest with his shirt on and he felt his heart speed up to a hundred miles per hour.

He slowly approached you, trying to look like he was cool with it, and ruffled your hair.

"Evening. I see you're wearing something of mine." He chimed.

You smiled, and stared at him. Truth be told, you missed him dearly when he went on long missions, so you looked for a piece of clothing that was his to remind you of him.

When you explained that to him he directly melted.

He thought he was so lucky to have a partner like you, a thoughtful mind and a loving person.

He joined you shortly afterwards, staring at you with a silly smile any time

WRECKER:

Excited. Like a kid on Christmas.

"Awe! Look at you! You're so adorable!"

He had bought some Mantell Mix for him and Omega when he decided to go back to the ship to rest and that's when he saw you.

To be fair, the t-shirt he used to dress up as a civilian looked like a huge, oversized dress on you. But that's what made it endearing.

"You look so cute!"

He hugs you tightly and kisses you to demonstrate how much he loves you.

If you wear his t-shirt, he will steal a wristband and put it on his wrist to show that he's also willing to wear your stuff.

May turn into a competition at some point, but that's not what we're here for-

Bonus: he feels extremely protective over you when you're wearing his clothes.

TECH:

Unfazed. Not bothered.

Or, at least, that what he likes to act like.

In reality, he got very flustered and awkward the first time he saw you wearing his t-shirt.

He stumbled with words and stuttered uncontrollably. He was probably the most flustered out of the entire batch.

He was done fixing the Marauder's hyperdrive and decided to check on you when he saw you with a t-shirt he used to sleep. And his heart rate skyrocketed.

Like I said, he acts unfaced and excuses his stuttering by saying he had been talking for too long. Not a very good excuse coming from his smart brain.

Then again, it's not like his brain worked after seeing you on his t-shirt.

He thought of places he could place the t-shirt so you'd be able to wear it more often.

This man is really head over heels for you.

CROSSHAIR:

"The heck you're doing with my t-shirt on?"

"Don't act mad, Cross."

"I'm not. I'm just asking."

He did acted mad. He was actually about to melt then and there.

Him and Hunter had gone on a mission to gather some intel and he had come back to the small cottage you and him shared on Pabu just to see you with his white t-shirt on.

Deep down, he loved it. He loved that you were wearing something that was his, he loved that you were his significant other.

He was just too proud to admit it.

The first time he saw you wearing his clothes, he snuck his hands under it to gently grip your waist. He adored the feeling of being able to hold you.

And yet again, he was too proud to admit it.

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There's not much I have to say except I finally got my helix piercing done and I really do love it :p

And I might edit Crosshair's part because it doesn't really match his personality anymore.

Reblogs and shares are highly appreciated!

My requests are still open!

great expectations - 8, date night!

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a/n: two written parts! also sorry this took so long I got really into the all for the game books again :/

You really wished you hadn't worn a watch.

You knew it was considered rude to check your watch over and over again while on a date. You knew it, and yet you still cringed each time you felt your subconscious twist your wrist so that the face was pointed towards yourself.

It was hard not to flinch when you realized it had only been two minutes since the last time who checked the time.

Ushijima, for his part, at least pretended to either not notice or not care about your unintentional slight. You felt guilty, but you couldn't stop the creeping feeling of just wanting to be home.

You'd never tell Kuroo that he was right. You were pretty certain that he was.

It wasn't like there was anything wrong with Ushijima. He was incredibly kind and thoughtful. Romantic, too, if the bouquet of roses he had brought you at the start of the evening had any say in the matter.

But you were incredibly bored.

Dinner was over, and Ushijima was halfway through his question about dessert when he stopped and shifted gears. The sudden change in pace of conversation, coupled with the way he leaned forward slightly, like you were co-conspirators, caught your attention.

"Excuse me if I'm wrong, but you're not feeling this, are you?"

"Sorry," You winced, face flushing in guilt. It was one thing to not enjoy a perfectly fine date, but it was another thing for your date to realize you had mentally checked out.

"Don't be." Ushijima dismissed, and you really couldn't help but believe him. "Would you like if we got the check and I drove you home?"

"If you wouldn't mind,"

The only emotion stronger than your guilt was your dread about seeing your housemates so soon after your failed date, but at least you could mope in your own bed.

If you didn't love your teammates as much as you did, or cared about your role as captain so deeply, you would've long been snug in your bed.

Instead, you're on a mission on campus when you should be commiserating your failed date with Kiyoko while forcing Tsukki to fetch snacks and send Hinata on mindless tasks to keep him out of your business.

You love Shoyo. He's got too big of a mouth, and you've learned the hard way too many times.

One of your teammates had texted you in a panic, saying she left her gym bag—and her wallet—in the campus weight room reserved for student athletes. Since it's so late, the whole building is already locked up. You would have told her just to get it in the morning, but she countered by saying she's leaving town early for a family event you've known about for weeks.

And she knows you have a key to the building, curtesy of how much your coach trusts you.

So with heavy footsteps, you take the familiar path towards the weight room. There are a few other student athlete-only areas in the building. Changing rooms, a few conference rooms for the occasional meeting, and a film review room.

Your face twists in confusion as you pass the film room on your way to the destination, because the lights are on. The janitor should have been long gone, and you assume that he just forgot to flip the switch on his way out.

You slip inside to turn the lights off and nearly jump out of your skin when somebody makes a noise of complaint at the sudden darkness the room in plunged in.

It takes five whole seconds for your mind and racing heart to catch up to the scene in front of you—Tooru Oikawa, perched on the chair closest to the screen, frowning over his shoulder at your interruption.

Except, he's not frowning for long.

His body moves before yours understand that you're not being attacked by a stranger hiding in the film room, and he jumps to his feet. He takes only a few steps towards then stalls out, and you're grateful for you, because you're so not ready to confront the mess you created with him that you think if he does try and get closer, you'll bolt.

"Hey, uh," He starts then stops, one hand scratching at the back of his neck as he searches for whatever words he wanted to say. "I've been trying to talk to you."

You know, you'd say. Kuroo told you that Bokuto told him—a round about way of finding your information, you know—that Oikawa thinks you've blocked him because you haven't responded to a single one of his messages.

You haven't blocked him. And you read every single one of his messages, but you felt so awful about what you assumed about him that you haven't been able to respond.

"Yeah, I've been busy." You lie. Besides your usual practices and classes, your schedule has been wide open. Kageyama put a pause on tutoring while everyone preps for the season and you're not spending every day hanging out with Oikawa anymore.

From the look on his face, you know he doesn't believe you. Your feet are still cemented to the ground, so you can't run off, but you do let yourself look at the ground that's slipping out from underneath you.

"Listen, that girl I was with? She's in my Econ lecture and I was only talking to her because Astumu has—had?—this massive thing for her." He's careful with his tone, you've spent enough time around him, but you can hear the edge of desperation you're trying so hard to not look at.

"I believe you." Your own words are even, measured. Honest, if a little underwhelming. You believed him from the moment you read his texts, and you know you're overreacting.

"Then why haven't you texted me back?" He sounds a little lost, and you hate that you're the cause of his frown.

"Because I jumped to conclusions and felt like shit." You explain. Your fingers are wringing the hem of your sweatshirt and it's an effort to even look at him, but you owe Oikawa that much. You assumed the worst and you made the decision to cut and run. "Can we just leave it, for now?"

You know better than to outright banish the conversation, but you're so far from prepared to talk about your shit coping strategies with Oikawa.

"Alright," He sighs, rather reluctantly agreeing. You don't care, because at least he's agreed. You offer a tight-lipped smile in return, and Oikawa's strained expression meets yours too easily. "Did you have fun tonight?"

Your stomach drops. Somehow, you'd forgotten about the fact that Oikawa follows you on Instagram. In a bid to further convince yourself that you were interested in Ushijima, you'd posted tidbits of your night online, though nothing that would hint to the identity of the man you were with.

Oikawa had seen the posts, and somehow you manage to feel even worse.

"Not really," You owe him a bit of honesty for your shitty posts. In return, you're greeted by the sight of his lips curving upwards for a second or two before he got ahold of his expression.

"Not to sound like a self absorbed dick, but I'm glad."

"I know." You snort. And you're not mad at him for his comment, because as stupid as it sounds, you find it endearing.

"Can I walk you home?" Oikawa's quick to fill the lapse in conversation. "It's pretty late and I don't want you by yourself."

"Tsukki was at the library still, so he's on his way to meet me here and we're walking back together." You explain with another tight lipped smile, squeezing your hands in time so that your nails carve crescent moons into your palms.

"Okay." It's a heartbreaking sound, the quiet acceptance of his rejection. You hate it, because no matter how many times you rejected him before, he never sounded so dejected.

"Hey, Oikawa?" You pretend not to notice the way his frown etches deeper at your use of his last name instead of his first. "Thanks for offering, at least."

"Anytime," He's quick to respond, and you know he means it. "Whatever you need."

You know he means that, too.

It makes it harder to walk away. You still manage.

extras!

yn tried and failed to gaslight herself into think she liked ushijima

hinata felt really vindicated when yn admitted she though Ushijima was boring.

there was ten minutes of radio silence between when oikawa saw yn's stories and when he responded in the gc. iwaizumi, atsumu, and osamu made second gc in that time and were devising plans to track down oikawa and make sure he wasn't doing anything stupid (like crashing her date)

after seeing yn on campus, oikawa texted tsukki and told him to text when they made it back safely. out of respect for his captain tsukki did and didn't tell yn about it

yn is really good at self sabotaging

taglist: 10/50

@loveyislost @vi0let-writes @jayathelostdragon @snoowply @ladycaramelswirl @dayanahq @loverryxx @x3nafix @rantsbytk @blue-moonies

venus ; chapter three ; friday

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taglist

taglist: @scoupsworld @snoowply @meoqs @sugacor3 @pelicanpizza @localgaytrainwreck @nobodybutnnoorr @vi0let-writes @matt444nixi @ncitygreen @laceythespacey @deadfish714 @bub-ss (if ur name is bolded i cannot tag you)

Prompt idea: The reader just sends the most horrid hear me out. Like sending a hear me out of Phillip to Alejandro.

“hear me out”

synopsis: sending the cod guys a questionable hear me out

ੈ✩‧₊˚ price, gaz, ghost, soap, alejandro, rudy, graves, makarov, keegan, nikolai

cw: suggestive jokes, slutshaming of an m&m

an: tried to keep these relatively tame because some of my hear me outs are actually insane. also would anyone gaf if i shared my sexuality headcanons for them…

masterlist

dividers from @/saradika-graphics :)

Buck as the eternal playboy but folding the second the reader hits on him back? Maybe corner him against a wall for funsies >:)

THE LONG GAME — E.BUCKLEY

flirting between friends was always fun, but sometimes it borders something that is definitely not platonic, and once that line is crossed, buck’s not sure he wants to go back to what you had before.

cw— 16+ for suggestiveness, alcohol, lots of flirting, chimney being a cockblock rip, buck is so sexually frustrated rip

evan buckley x gn!reader || ???? || 3.1k || masterlist!

part two — finish line.

Arguably the best part about your job was being able to celebrate a job well done.

That feeling of accomplishment after getting through a really tough call with nothing but a positive outcome.

The team never went half-assed on the celebrations, and you’re sure that the bar you all frequent post-shift knows you all by name by now from how often you all abandon your nights to spend an extra few hours in each other’s company.

That was another thing you loved about your job. The team. Your family.

You could spend 24 straight hours with them and they’d still make an excuse to spend a few more with everyone.

Today was no different. You rolled up to the bar in a tight-circle, eerily resembling the professional attitude you had to display during your work hours, one not yet shed considering it’d only been three-quarters of an hour since your shift ended.

You knew it wouldn’t last long, you’d all be too drunk to care about professionalism soon enough. Well except Bobby anyway.

You barely had time to walk through the front doors before Buck was running up to the bar to order everyone a round of drinks, a confident smirk etched on his face that only grew as the local news recounted the story of one of they day’s earlier calls with civilian footage.

“I wonder who that is,” He nudges your side as you walk over, cockiness washing all over his face as he nods up towards the TV hanging up by the ceiling. “They look pretty badass,”

You give him an almost dismissive hum as you pick up one of the glasses from the cluster to take a sip of the craft beer filling it. “I wonder,”

“Oh come on, you’re all over the news,” He gives you another small nudge. “You’re practically famous right now,”

He leans in towards you to talk over the music, reaching over to grab a pint glass of his own and clinking it animatedly against yours before taking a swig from it.

“He’s right you know,” Hen gives you nudge herself, joined by an enthusiastic thumbs up from Chimney behind her. “Own it,”

“Right? you pulled a whole superhero move,” Buck motions up towards the news broadcast again, where they are still replaying a clip of you kicking through a pane of reinforced glass on a high-rise from on top of the roof as an alternative method of entry to the collapsed stairwell on the inside.

“Sounds like you’re projecting Buckley, jealous?” You raise your eyebrow with an air of amusement as you take another swig from your glass.

“Absolutely not, in fact, I’m the opposite of jealous right now,” He leans in towards you again so that your shoulders brush together. “It was hot,”

“Okay horndog,” You roll your eyes at his comment, pushing away his face with the palm of your hand pressed to his forehead. “Keep it in your pants will you?”

He does nothing but laugh at the way you scold him, allowing you your personal space as he sits up straight once more.

Buck’s ability to flirt his way through any situation was honestly mildly impressive, how he managed to twist any situation into having a sensual undertone no matter what it was.

Last week it was Eddie carrying a sandbag into the station gym. The week before that it was the fact that Hen had cut a slice of lasagna for him instead of him doing it himself.

And apparently this week’s target was you. For jumping off a roof and shattering a glass window with your feet.

You’d question his taste if you didn’t know he was joking.

Although as the night went on and the table became increasingly cluttered with empty glasses, you started to question whether it was actually a joke.

Whether it was some quirk of his personality, or something more serious.

They say that drunk words are sober thoughts right? And Buck was definitely drunk and definitely spouting some choice words right now.

He whistles as you pot one of the striped balls on the pool table, his competitiveness all but disappeared underneath the haze that his alcohol consumption had laid over his brain. “Skilled with your feet and your hands? You’re just about every guy’s dream,”

He leans across the pool table to aim his shot, pool cue horribly aimed to the point where the cue ball barely skims the solid red ball he was aiming for. “Probably every girl’s dream too actually,”

“Instead of trying to kiss my ass, maybe you should focus on actually playing the game,” You genuinely can’t tell by this point whether his poor skills were an effect of the alcohol running through his system or if he was doing it on purpose just to get under your skin.

If there was one thing you did, it was play fair, and that included not letting your opponent give you an easy win.

“Oh how I would love to kiss that ass,” He makes an exaggerated show of leaning backwards to get a clear view, giving you another short whistle as you lean over the table to line up your next shot.

“Win the game and maybe i’ll let you,”

You swear you can see the moment his mind fractures, enunciated by another striped ball falling into one of the pockets and you lining up another shot.

He’s like a robot doing a hard reset, his eyes staring blankly at you like he physically cannot comprehend that you’d actually say something like that.

You don’t make your next shot, though whether by distraction from Buck’s eyes on the side of your face or your own drunken mistake you’re not entirely sure. Either way, when you straighten up to stand again, Buck hasn’t moved an inch.

“Go on, your turn,” You tap the side of his arm with your pool cue, amusement washing over your features as you watch him physically jolt from the contact and shake his head as if to physically shake off what you’d said to him.

Who knew such a casanova would get so flustered when someone played along with his little flirting game.

He ended up losing of course, you were far too much ahead for him to have a chance of catching up before you potted the eight ball and took the game, and you could swear there was a trace of disappointment in his eyes, and not because of the four solid colour balls still left on the table.

He didn’t even glance at them.

No, instead he kept his eyes firmly locked on you as you gloated your win.

“Now that is something to celebrate,” You lay your cue on the table with a victorious smirk. “Better luck next time I suppose,”

Your cockiness continues to flourish as you pot the remaining balls into the pockets and take Buck’s pool cue from him to lay it next to yours. “So what’s my reward then?”

”I- What?” He blinks at you a few times, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as his mind tries to catch up to the conversation.

“Well we laid out what would happen if you won, so what do I get for actually winning?” You tilt your head to the side as you take a step towards him, arms crossed over your chest with your eyebrow raised. “Surely I deserve to be rewarded, no?”

“I can uh…I can buy you a drink…” Buck pursed his lips together, dry swallowing as he leant backwards against the pool table upon your approach. He honestly didn’t know what was coming over him. Why was he so ruffled under the collar about this?

This was his prime domain, so why was it the second that you mirrored his interest he shut down and started backtracking on himself like a highschooler?

“I think we’ve had enough drinks don’t you?” You take another step forward as he sits on the edge of the table, essentially boxing him in despite there being very easy escape points at both his right and his left. “Besides, I want to be sober enough to remember this tomorrow,”

What on earth did you mean by that?

God he felt pathetic right now, a 6’2, 220lbs man being boxed in against a pool table of all things by one of his extremely attractive coworkers because you’d had a sudden streak of confidence and decided to flip his advances back on himself.

“Uh…” He gives a small, half awkward chuckle as his eyes flicker to consciously remain focused on your own eyes and not fall downwards. He knew the uniforms were tight but god did he not notice how tight they were until he was having to physically restrain himself from looking further down. “Right well- uh- what do you want then..?”

Buck watched as your eyes left his to flicker downwards, not so far down that you were staring at his chest, but just far down enough that he could tell you had your attention on a part of his face that was not his eyes.

He’d blame the bright red of his cheeks on the drinks if you asked about it, but you seem far too enamoured by the way he nervously purses and bites his lips under your gaze to even so much as glance at anything else.

“You know what I want..?” You break your staring to meet his eyes again, although you still make the time to turn your eyes down to his mouth again during the breaks between words.

He swears you’re leaning in with every word, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t leaning in himself, a sharp, stuttered breath escaping his lips as you get close enough so your breath fans across his cheeks. “I think so…”

You give a small hum at his answer, lips quirking into a smile as you narrow your gaze and tilt your head slightly to the left so that your noses don’t bump together as you bring your faces within an inch of each other.

His lips part on instinct, breathing a whisper of air into your mouth as he anticipates the contact with closed eyes.

“I want you to stop drinking my orange juice,”

The tension in his shoulders seems to drop at your statement, and his eyes shoot back open as you pull yourself back to stand fully upright, absolute delight drenching your features as you read the waves of shock and dissatisfaction that roll over him at the sudden change in atmosphere. “What?-”

He was so close. So close to having your lips on his. And you ripped it away from him with that stupidly hot smirk on your face like you knew exactly what you were doing.

You definitely knew what you were doing.

“In the station, I know it’s you,” You explain yourself like it’s no big deal, like you weren’t centimetres from giving Buck what he’d been pining for for so goddamn long a few seconds ago. “Buy your own juice,”

“I- Seriously?” Exasperation practically drowns his voice as he speaks, and he narrows his gaze with an air of desperation that makes you want to give him exactly what he wants. “You pretend you’re going to kiss me and then tell me not to drink your goddamn orange juice? Not cool man,”

“Maybe you shoulda won the game, I don’t know what to tell you,” You shrug your shoulders with an air of nonchalance that only you would be able to muster in a situation like this, and it frustrates Buck beyond all belief.

“That’s not fair,” Buck shakes his head as he stands. “I didn’t know you were being serious,”

“Well that’s just too bad isn’t it?” You clasp your hands together with a tilt of your head.

“No, we’re not just gonna move on okay?” It’s Buck’s turn to approach you now, his hands emphasising his words as he waves them in front of himself. “I have waited so long for you to suggest you were interested in me you cannot just back out like nothing happened,”

You swerve his approach with a laugh to walk around the side of the pool table, like his frustration is the funniest thing in the world to you and not literally tearing him apart with every moment you try to brush off the lingering tension between you. “You are way too pent up about this,”

“I am the exact right amount of pent up about this,” He follows you around the table to box you in as you did him, except this time there’s really no escape as he plants his hands firmly against the edge of the table on either side of you. “You can’t just lean in like you’re going to kiss me and bail right at the last second,”

“I thought you liked the long game,” You cross your arms over your chest as a deflection from the way your heart rate quickens, trying to cover the increase in how fast your chest rises and falls under the gaze he’s trapped you in.

“I’ve played long enough,” He leans his weight on his arms, bringing his face towards yours slowly. “I need to know if I’ve won,”

“I’d say so,” Your eyes are much less confident now the roles have been reversed, struggling to maintain contact with his as his face continues its steady path towards your own.

“Prove it.” You’re close enough now that you can feel the breath from every word he speaks on your skin, and his intentions are laid out very clearly as his gaze falls from your eyes to your lips.

He is going to kiss you if you don’t do anything to stop him.

He wants to taste the mix of alcohol on salt on your lips, explore the inside of your mouth with his tongue. He wants to feel the heat of your palms against his cheeks as you cup his face to stop him from pulling away and make you kiss him until neither of you can breathe.

He’s waited long enough to have you like this, and after your previous stunt, he’s not sure he can physically last much longer before he explodes from the frustration.

The way his hands slide from resting on the table either side of you to holding your hips solidifies that point tenfold.

He gives your waist a soft tug until your torso collides with his, and you have to brace your hands against his shoulders to stop yourself from losing your balance and stumbling right into him.

And then he’s leaning in again, his eyes flickering over your expression to look for any trace of hesitance or uncertainty in your features before he makes the final move.

And then there’s a shot glass between your faces.

“Shots?”

Chimney, ever horrible at reading the room —probably because he’s so drunk he can barely stand upright anymore— holds up two shots towards the two of you, one in each hand. “They’re on me~” He adds that extra part at the end as the true selling point, and it takes all of Buck’s self-restraint to not knock the glasses out out Chimney’s hand to make him leave the two of you alone.

You don’t seem so agitated.

“Why thank you,” You break from Buck’s grasp to take one of the shots from Chimney’s hand, raising it in Buck’s direction. “Here’s to playing the long game,”

You down the shot quickly, leaving the empty glass on the edge of the pool table to rejoin the group at the bar, leaving Buck alone and so goddamn sexually frustrated he genuinely thinks he might pass out from the strain.

You know exactly what you’re doing by dragging this out, and he has half the mind to prove your idea of ‘safety’ from his advances in the group wrong by sending his conscience to hell and giving in to his inhibitions in front of everyone.

But he’s not quite drunk enough to push it that far. Even if most of the team wouldn’t remember it if he did.

“So that’s a no on the shot?” Chimney raises the remaining shot glass in Buck’s direction, seemingly completely oblivious to the colossal cockblock he’d just imposed.

“If you weren’t so drunk right now I would punch you I swear-” Buck huffs as he all but snatches the glass from Chimney’s hand and downs the shot in exasperation, the sharp burn in his throat doing nothing to distract him from the ache in his chest from having a possible moment from you ripped from underneath his nose again in the span of less than ten minutes.

“Woah, what did I do?” Chimney furrows his eyebrows in offence at Buck’s statement. “We’re supposed to be family man, last time I buy you anything,” He scoffs in indignation as he leaves Buck to join the rest of the group once more, clearly unhappy with Buck’s reception to his ‘gift’ of a free shot.

A free shot and a missed shot at finally making a move on you.

He knew that come your next shift you’d ignore everything that had happened tonight, and he wasn’t sure he was ready to go back to the silent glances and subtle gestures. He wanted all of you, not just some aimless flirting that never went anywhere.

At least he had confirmation that you were in fact interested in him, that was a step forward in the right direction he supposes.

But god was the long game starting to get on his nerves.

hi can I please have a sakusa kiyoomi burger and rockstar x groupie with two straws? <3

CLIENT-9; sakusa kiyoomi. burger—haikyuu. drink—rockstar x groupie.

contents smau. DON’T PAY ATTENTION TO THE TIME STAMPS, THANKS! reader is… desperate. band! au. komori mentioned/part of the band.

authors notes hope u dont mind i made this a smau rather than traditional writing... anyway sorry if this is ooc, ive only written for him once i think…

press start! — the eyes, chico (15/22)

after spending almost a whole year on academic probation, you’re finally allowed to start your position as a manager for the nekoma boys volleyball team. you’re determined to stay focused on your team and academics, but things get a bit difficult when a certain middle blocker makes his way into your life

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LOVE THIS SM BOO!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

press start! — all to action (21/22)

after spending almost a whole year on academic probation, you’re finally allowed to start your position as a manager for the nekoma boys volleyball team. you’re determined to stay focused on your team and academics, but things get a bit difficult when a certain middle blocker makes his way into your life

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on the run

❦ WHAT’S MY NAME IN YOUR PHONE?

atsumu, osamu, suna, kita x reader (separate)

cw: fluff, smau