Latest Posts by ayatakanosstuff - Page 6
tw: brief mentions of violence, guns & death
at your caliber, disarming someone was easy. killing? even easier. both were a product of your training. but now that you're staring down the target you're supposed to eliminate with the bag finally off his head, why can't you pull the trigger? why is it for the first time in years, your hands tremble when it matters the most?
because the one looking back at you, whose forehead rests against the barrel of the gun that he gave you, died years ago. iwaizumi hajime was supposed to be dead, six feet under, years ago, in a mission objective gone wrong. what is he doing here?
Summerboy!
❀.ೃ࿔ ─── lady gaga? : 01 , You arrived in Brazil after what felt like the longest 15 hours of yoru life, even if that was a layover
content found : Atsumu Miya x fem!reader , mentions of alcohol , smau , kys/kms jokes , homophobia mentioned
word count : 534
previous : summerboy! mlist : hq milst : next
| 12:45 am : RIOgaleão International Airport
You three really should've bought seats next to eachother, 'cause now you're walking to baggage claim trying to figure out where eachother are
She wouldn't own up to it, but it was one-hundred percent Kiki's fault
"Guy's, we don't need seats next to eachother that's like another hundred dollars we would need to spend"
You and Tori looked at eachother questioning her logic, but who can argue with saving money
You could also blame your cousin Kiyoomi for having a 'friend' - a term used very loosely - who was living in Brazil, and it happened to give you major fomo when you found out he was going to be in Brazil
Sat at bagage claim waiting and hoping your friends were compitent enough to make it out of the airport
The heavy purse you brought as carry-on sat between your legs, head in your hands trying to fight off the sleep creeping up on you
"Uh, excuse me?"
Head shooting from your hands to only be faced with some guy he looked about your age, and a little farmillar. Toned blonde hair, honey golden eyes, natural smirk, really cute dimpl-
"Um, hello?"
His head tilted slightly
"Do you know if this is the bagage claim for the last flight from Japan?"
Putting a little more thought into your answer to try and combate the jetlag
"Oh uh, yeah it is.."
Voice trailing off, for someone who was very postive her answer was correct, you really didn't sound it
"Right..? Thanks alot"
Watching as he walked away and over to someone else, presumablly asking them the same question. If that was slightly mortifing enough, he was totally your type, like the cutest guy ever probably
"Oi Y/nn!"
Dazed, you wouldn't of even noticed Tori and Kiki if they didn't push you off the bench you were sitting on leaving you flat on your butt
"Y/n! get up that dudes staring, you're causing a scene bruv!"
Tori's hushed yelling only made the situation worse, until you looked over and noticed it was the same guy from before
Quickly picking yourself and your bag up, dusting imaginary dirt of you and apprently Tori also decided to dust you off
Slapping her hand with an annoyed look
"You're the one who pushed me over"
"Ok buddy, you're yappin' a whole lot, right Ki'?"
You both stood there motionless as you watched Kiki lift each of your suitcases off the converbelt, her arm frantically ushering you two over
Footsteps echoing through the near empty airport
"Hurry up we've gotta get to the air bnb, Tori pick your bag up!"
Her voice carried a sense of urgency - which was not necessary - as she practically ran out of the airport
"It's yoru fauly, you shouldn't been laying on the floor"
"What?! You pushed me?"
"Uh nuh uh! This is why yoru brother likes me more"
"Maybe 'cause Motoya's your boyfriend? Do you act braindead on purpose?"
"Stop fighting!"
Kiki's voice cut through the petty argument that she could never seem to escape when she was with you two
"See, your fault"
Your eyes seemed to roll on insticnt at Tori's remark
Summerboy! : taglist
@sailanne , @ayatakanosstuff
© egotisticalmav'25 | do not plagiarise or translate any of my work
it was a tie neither of them won…
sakusa and osamu are currently fighting outside miyas kitchen bc osamu feels like sakusa replaced him in my top selfships…(WHICH I HAVENT.)
so cute i’m dead.
hi just the cutest bitter thought I've ever had <33 (tw for drugs and alcohol)
yn, who not only doesn't do anymore drugs but she doesn't drink either, ordering a nonalcoholic drink HOWEVER kyou always takes the first sip to actually make sure it doesn't have alcohol in it
sakusa and osamu are currently fighting outside miyas kitchen bc osamu feels like sakusa replaced him in my top selfships…(WHICH I HAVENT.)
THE 27TH OF EACH MONTH.
𓂃Back n forth emails between you and your “friend.” Kageyama Tobio.
🎐 timeskip au , fluff , angst , reminiscing , yearning kageyama , tba. warnings will be posted with each chapter!
JANUARY 27TH draft.
FEBRUARY 27TH draft.
MARCH 27TH draft.
APRIL 27TH draft.
MAY 27TH draft.
JUNE 27TH draft.
JULY 27TH draft.
AUGUST 27TH draft.
SEPTEMBER 27TH draft.
OCTOBER 27TH draft.
NOVEMBER 27TH draft.
DECEMBER 27TH draft.
🎐 taglist is open!
i hate people drawing maomao white
this is platonic sugris
besides mine and sugas romantic relationships our platonic one is just pure bliss
where does sakusa take u guys on ur first date
sakusa took me to those things were you go out to the lake and light up lanterns (tatbilb reference.) i lwk didn’t expect him to set something like this up? nonetheless it was vv cute we were matching colors and it was very intimate
how does shoyo react to u wearing his clothes
first time: his brain breaks LOL. It was after he had come back from playing beach volleyball i was setting up dinner in his one of his many t-shirts that are ridiculous colors since i was doing my laundry and had nothing else to wear. He froze in his tracks after seeing me i was lwk confused and then he stuttered out about me wearing his shirt LMAO
now: he will purposely HIDE my house shirts/clothing so i can wear his he likes sharing his clothes with me it’s funny and vv cute
rb this erm. oki bai
like this if u want selfship asks
like this if u want selfship asks
ABSOKUTELY FUCKING CLOCKED ME. WHAG DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS
IM CACKLING 😭😭😭 it’s an observation 😞😕
— atsumu miya ⋮ 03 / 13 / 25. ❝ 𝓕𝑬𝑬𝑳𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺 ❞
content warnings ⨾ assassin!reader. death. conspiracy to kill. assassin!coach kurosu. fake names. bad parenting. feelings of being trapped. word count ⨾ 1.2K ❪ 1,286 ❫
From the ripe age of nine, you were trained to feel nothing.
“You don’t have time for feelings,” your mother would bark at you, fists raised in front of her. “You are cold, you are organized,” she would grunt, pinning you to the ground for the nth time that evening. “Feel nothing, lose nothing,” she would say, voice demanding and even. Even when she would work you like a dog, spar with you day and night, she always remained composed.
She felt nothing. She was cold, she was organized. She didn’t have anything to lose. Not even her own daughter. She trusted one person; herself.
When she died, the organization she worked for, The Cage, held a funeral for her. You, a fourteen year old with nowhere to go, were taken in by the head of The Cage, Kurosu. He’d worked with your mother for years, trained her when she was your age.
He taught you to feel nothing.
“Feelings are useless,” he would say, rolling his eyes at you. “They only lead to disappointment,” he would grunt, kicking your legs out from beneath you. “They are useless.”
Even when faced with the worst situation possible, he remained composed. Calm, collected, organized. Even when put in the utmost dangerous positions—calm, collected, composed.
By the time you turned twenty, you were the same. Emotionless, calm, organized. You never let your feelings get in the way. Feelings were pointless, weren’t they? They were distracting and disappointing. What was the point? No feelings, nothing to lose—the perfect hit man.
Until him.
Golden hair, brown eyes that one could look into for hours upon hours, a carefree smile. While you were trained to feel nothing, attraction was one you could never get over.
You stare at him through the scope attached to your gun, finger resting over the trigger, your breaths even and your hands steady. Next to him, an identical boy sits. Different hair, but the same smile, same eyes. You take a deep breath and train your gun back on the blonde boy. For a brief moment, you wish your life was like his. Simple, easy—carefree.
A crackle comes in on your comm and you flinch—something you haven’t done in awhile.
“Is it done?” They ask. You don’t know who it is, you never do. It’s someone different every time. Last week it was an older woman, this week a young man. “Six, is it done?”
You clear your throat and bring your hand to your ear, pressing a button. “No,” you say bluntly. “You do your job, I’ll do mine. I’ll contact you after the fact.” You click the button again and rip the earpiece out, throwing it to the side. You’re sick of them anyway.
With a deep breath, you look through the scope again. You wonder what his childhood was like. Public pools, sleepovers with friends, sports. His mother probably kissed his forehead before he left for school. You wonder why someone would want him dead.
You wonder what it’s like to have a brother—a twin brother, no less. You wonder how his twin will react when he gets shot in the head right in front of him. Would he go on to live his life in honor of his brother? Would the pain be too much for him to bear? And his mother?
His mother. A wonderful woman, probably. Much nicer than your own. Floral sundresses and freshly baked cinnamon rolls. Homemade lemonade and perfectly curled hair. She would be devastated by her son's death.
You take your fave away from the scope and take a deep breath. Your elbows hurt, your core hurts. The wind is off.
Yeah. The wind is off.
You glance over at your earpiece and pick it up, clicking the button. “Wind is blowing the wrong way. Can’t get a clean shot. I’m packing up.” You don’t hear what they say; you don’t care.
You push yourself up on your knees with a huff. Without your scope, you can’t see the blonde boy clearly anymore. He’s just a blob of beige. Maybe this is for the better. You don’t need the money—your mother had left a fortune in her passing. You’ll make Seven take the job. At least then you won’t have to deal with the guilt you feel.
Feelings. Stupid, distracting, disappointing. You pack your gun away and hike it over your shoulder. This isn’t your problem anymore, you decide. You pull out your burner and type a number in. Kurosu answers in three rings.
“Is it done?”
“Give it to Seven,” you state simply. “I’m off my game. Getting sick, probably. Wind was off direction, couldn’t get a clear hit.”
He sighs, then clicks his tongue. “Fine.” He hangs up.
Something you’ll admit to yourself; you hate this line of work. What else are you supposed to do, though? Work at a grocery store? A daycare? The thought almost makes you laugh.You, working somewhere domestic? Please. You don’t even know how to function with actual people. All of your colleagues kill people for a living.
Your joints ache as you make your way down the stairs of the building. You drop your gun in the bathroom, where someone will pick it up later, then walk out the building. The wind on your face feels different than it did when you were on the roof.
People walk the streets, going about their normal lives. None of them know you were about to kill someone. None of them know how many people you have killed.
A mother with her daughter. An old couple walking their dog. A little boy and his friends playing in a puddle.
You walk down the street, nowhere in mind. The wind picks up, you shiver and wrap your arms around yourself.
“You’re gonna freeze out here without a jacket, pretty lady.”
You freeze for a moment, unsure if he’s talking to you, then you turn and all the breath leaves your lungs. Atsumu Miya—your target from moments earlier. How did he get down here so fast?
“What?”
He laughs, giving you a sheepish smile. “I said you’re gonna freeze.”
He has an odd accent, something you’ve heard before but can’t place. You watch him shrug off his jacket and hold it out to you. “Here. I don’t need it.”
You blink a couple times, then look down at the jacket. Tan skin, strong forearms. You’re not sure why, but you take it from him and pull it over your shoulders. It’s warm, soft. It smells like expensive cologne.
“Thanks,” you mumble, sticking your hands in the pockets. “You.. shouldn’t trust strange people. What if I steal your jacket?”
He shrugs. “Keep it. I have others.” He pauses, then smirks. “What’s your name?”
Your name. For the past ten years, you’ve been called Six, part of a class of twenty kids. You don’t have an identity. You don’t have a name. You don’t have anything, nothing.
“Lina,” you lie, averting your gaze. “And yours?
“Miya. Uh, Atsumu,” he corrects, shaking his head. “You can call me Atsumu.”
“Atsumu,” you repeat. It feels foreign in your tongue. Sour, like a lemon squeezed on a swollen taste bud. You rub your fingers together inside the pocket, a nervous habit you picked up as a young child. “Listen, Atsumu, I have to go, but-“
“Give me your number!” He exclaims, cutting you off. He laughs nervously and takes a deep breath. “If you want, I mean.”
“I don’t have a phone,” you blurt. Another lie. That’s all you do, isn’t it? Your whole life. “I really have to go.” You turn and walk away from him, ignoring the calls of Lina that follow you.
Feelings. Stupid. Distracting.
bakugou the king of just watching you like this 👁️ 👁️
mina says something abt him being down so atrociously bad and he goes "fuck you. you don't know what the fuck you're talking about" 👁️ 👁️
"mumma?"
there's a tug to your pant leg that turns you away from your skincare to acknowledge, smiling down at the little girl with eye's like kenma's blinking up at you longingly. maesi blinks up at you before pointing at the lip balm in your hand. "lisstick?"
you smile softly, "close! lip balm, baby.” you twist the lip balm down slightly before putting it on the counter, bending to hook your hands under maesi’s arms and haul her up and onto the counter. her curious hands wander to the lip balm, and she picks it up with excited eyes. “i dood it?”
you smile, “sure why not. it’s clear.” you help maesi turn to face the mirror, “now go like this, baby-“ you purse your lips out and use your finger to demonstrate how to apply the lip balm, which she copies. you see the subtle sheen of where she missed her lips glistening on her skin under the lights of the bathroom. she squeals in satisfaction before putting down the lip balm and raising her arms to be picked up. “wanna come up?”
“wanna get down!” she says, and you obey her wish before watching her giggle and make a break for the bathroom door.
“and where are you going?” you smile.
maesi turns to you and giggles, “gonna get daddy!”
“you wanna get daddy?” you laugh, making the connection between the lipstick question from earlier and the application of lip balm now; she wants to prank him, thinking she’ll leave color on him.
you smile and make your way down the hall, watching her toddle in her jammies to his streaming room. she pushes the door open, and you hear kenma’s voice go from loud and clear, to much more soft when addressing your child.
“hey spawn,” kenma coos, pausing his game. “how are you? where’s mumma? wanna say hi to chat?” she nods eagerly, and kenma pulls her up and onto his lap. “wave hi, baby.”
maesi doesn’t wave, instead, she puckers her lips out childishly for a kiss, and kenma chuckles as he leans down to kiss her, tasting the familiar taste of your lip balm. immediately, his three year old crumbles into laughter, squirming out of his grip and running away, yelling a soft “got you!” and kenma hears you in the hallway, gasping and squealing in pretend panic, hearing your shared laughter fade away as you make your way down the hall.
he cocks a brow before returning to his stream, “i don’t know what just happened.” he looks into his monitor and smacks his lips together before shrugging and turning back to his game. “but im not complaining.”
bokeandbookies LMAOOOO
keishatwolips SHE GOT YOU (literally have no idea what just happened)
rayisthename LMAOOOO
notemmyrosee I think she got you kodzuken
grannyshouseparty IF SPAWN SAYS SHE GOT YOU, SHE GOT YOU
thank you kuroosasscheek for the 1500 bits GET PRANKED
“kuroo, you’re just mad i got a kiss and you didn’t.”
kuroosasscheek you’re right </3
me bc lina doesn’t know how to read the tags
i dead ass hate all of u rn especially lina
i dead ass hate all of u rn especially lina
Brazil Oikawa🇧🇷
@tansypansydandy
Tadashi 💫
— atsumu miya ⋮ 03 / 13 / 25. ❝ 𝓜𝑰𝑺𝑺 𝓨𝑶𝑼 ❞
content warnings ⨾ msby!atsumu. profanity. pet names - baby. atsumu calls his mother ma. “that’s what she said” joke. surprises. word count ⨾ n/a.
⌗ — 𝓘𝑵𝑺𝑼𝑭𝑭𝑬𝑹𝑨𝑩𝑳𝑬 ౨ৎ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ATSUMU MIYA, msby jackals.
♬ phone ain't got no service this 3G is fucking worthless / day is getting dark like the area's turning urban / you'll be fucking nervous like me inside of a church is / but, i'ma get in contact regardless, and / i hope you answer.
SYN ⨾ down on your luck and fresh out of your second year of university, alisa recommends you for a new job; manager and social media woman for the MSBY jackals. you don’t know anything about volleyball, but a paycheck is a paycheck and this one is accompanied by enough zero’s for your liking.
CON-WARN ⨾ msby!atsumu miya. bickering. profanity. enemies-ish to lovers. flirty!atsumu miya. smau. socmed manager/gen manager!reader.
CHAT LOGS .ᐟ 〔 character introductions 〕
you ┊ messy notes scrawled in a worn notebook. straw-berries and freshly baked cinnamon rolls. multiple hair ties on her wrist. overwhelmed. ⤷ sisterhood of the traveling pants. <- tba
a. miya ┊ soft hair. carefree grins and unbothered laughter. large, worn-out hoodies. rays of sun seeping in through sheer curtains. perfectionist. ⤷ MSBY jackasses. <- tba
INSTAGRAM ARCHIVES .ᐟ 〔 masterlist 〕
No posts yet . . .
YES THAT IS U.
did they follow you on instagram yet 😛😛😆😛😛😛
SHUT THE FUCK UP OH MY GOD THATS WHY U LOOK LIKE THAT ONE B=UM WHOS LIKE 4'2 WHO SITS IN HIS CAR ALL DAY AND GOES LIKE 'so uhm someone asked me 🤓' WHEN HE KNOW DAMN WELL NO ONE ASKED HIS UGLY ASS ANYTJING
THIS U?!
did they follow you on instagram yet 😛😛😆😛😛😛
SHUT THE FUCK UP OH MY GOD THATS WHY U LOOK LIKE THAT ONE B=UM WHOS LIKE 4'2 WHO SITS IN HIS CAR ALL DAY AND GOES LIKE 'so uhm someone asked me 🤓' WHEN HE KNOW DAMN WELL NO ONE ASKED HIS UGLY ASS ANYTJING
OH DHUTBTHE FUCK UP U BITCH
did they follow you on instagram yet 😛😛😆😛😛😛
SHUT THE FUCK UP OH MY GOD THATS WHY U LOOK LIKE THAT ONE B=UM WHOS LIKE 4'2 WHO SITS IN HIS CAR ALL DAY AND GOES LIKE 'so uhm someone asked me 🤓' WHEN HE KNOW DAMN WELL NO ONE ASKED HIS UGLY ASS ANYTJING