Haikyuu!! Oneshots

My Everything #1 (Shoyo Hinata)

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to mx_opg]

Requested by: Myself

Word Count: 3,607

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:
- Shoyo being a love struck clingy boy
- There's a hint of bokuaka
- Gets a bit heated towards the end (making out and technical dry humping)
- Part Two?

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     I can feel Shoyo's burning stare from where I stand in the gym doorway. He's not the only jackal staring though. Miya's eyes are set in the same direction, sights locked on his girlfriend who's standing in the doorframe next to me, waiting for her boyfriend just like I am. The jackals are stretched out across the floor, doing their cool-downs as their coach rambles on about their match tomorrow.
The coach claps, the usual lead-up to the players' dismissal. A second or two passes before Shoyo is up on his feet, racing toward me before any of the other players can beat him to the entrance.
     The spaz doesn't slow down as he approaches me, full speed ahead as he dashes forward. His arms wrap around me when he finally comes in contact with me. My feet dragging for a moment before Shoyo manages to pull me up. He stumbles out the door, struggling to slow down and balance both our weights as he moves.
     "Hello, baby. I missed you. What did you do while I was at practice? You look beautiful. I love these pants on you. Did you pack our bags yet? Called the chauffeur? I don't want to drive us. I missed you, did I tell you that? Because I did miss you. I thought of you every second we were apart. Well, not every second. I thought about volleyball a lot but when I wasn't thinking about plays and practice and such I was thinking of you. I missed you so much."
     My golden retriever of a boyfriend rambles on, word vomiting as he squeezes me between his arms, kisses being slobbered against my face. I'm pranced around the grass right outside the gym, clinging to Shoyo's shoulders as he bounces around. I swear, if he had a tail it would be wagging a mile a minute right now. "I love you so much," he whines like it's pained him having to go three hours without saying it. The admiration is paired with another messy kiss pressed onto my cheek.
     Shoyo is attached to my hip as much as he can be, that time is split up by his workout routines. An hour run first thing in the morning, his team training for three hours in the afternoon, an evening two-hour workout session at the gym, and then a final hour run at night. Five days a week, leaving Sundays and Thursdays for ourselves.
     His days off are the best. Sundays are our lazy days at home and Thursdays are always packed full of adventures, secret dates, and running to hide from Shoyo's publicity. My wonderful, famous spiker of a boyfriend does all he can to keep me hidden from the world, at least personal information about me; no pictures, my name is nowhere to be seen, and no interviews or statements.
     He acknowledges me all the time though, to the point there are millions of videos centered around us. "Taking a Shot Every Time Hinata Shoyo Mentions His Girlfriend" and compilations of him talking about me in his interviews.
     My heart skips a beat every time I watch a new interview of him. "My girlfriend", "my baby", "my girl", "my cheerleader", and a million other things always fall from his mouth, usually followed by a compliment or a thank you or something about me he loves. Nothing beats watching him gush over how much he loves me and how proud he is to bring me home another win.
     "I love you too," I mutter, chasing his lips for a moment before I get the kiss I want and he so desperately seems to need.
     Happy sighs spill from him, being caught in my mouth as Shoyo kisses me back, hands tightening on my thighs from his enjoyment. "You... are... my... whole... heart," he mutters, pecking my lips between each word. "My everything," he adds, another kiss, this one longer and rougher with his longing for me.
     "You're my everything," I echo Shoyo's little saying, my heart skipping again.
     The first game I came to was wonderful, his team won, and everyone was thrilled. Afterward, an interviewer asked why it was 'his best game yet'. Without missing a beat, he pointed to the stands, a big grin on his face as he answered, "My everything was in the stands today. I can't bring her home a loss so I made sure to bring her home a win." Even now I can't help but feel giddy thinking about it. I never knew dating an athlete would be filled with so much pride, glee, and romance.
Gently, Shoyo sets me on my feet, fingertips toying with my belt loops as he tugs on my pants. "I love you. I love these pants on you. I love your eyes. I love your hair. I love you so much," he whines, using the loops to tug me closer to him.
"I love you too, Sho," I giggle, looping my arms around his neck before leaning to kiss him again.
     "I would love a lack of PDA," Miya chuckles from the gym door, an arm around his girlfriend as he leans down to plop a kiss on her cheek. He's got two bags on his arms, one that I recognize as Shoyo's.
     "Sorry, Atsumu," He mutters, filled with shyness and cheeks pink from embarrassment.
     "I'm just giving you shit," his teammate continues to chuckle, leading himself and his girlfriend toward us. "See you tomorrow?" He asks, dropping the gym bag at Shoyo's feet.
     "Bright and early," he chirps, nodding in agreement before bending down to pick up his bag. "Come on, baby," he coos, arm wrapped around my hips, elbow pressed against one as his fingertips press against the other one. It makes it awkward to walk, especially with Shoyo tugging me closer to his side, but it makes him happy so I deal with the stumbling.
     Once our feet hit the pavement of the parking lot, his hand slides into my pants pocket, snatching the keys before he races forward. I stroll after him, watching him eagerly bounce with the passenger door held open for me. "Thank you," I hum, kissing his cheek before I slide into the car.
     Shoyo squirms with happiness as he bends down, buckling my seatbelt for me and pecking my lips before closing the car door. My eyes trail after him, watching him bounce to his side of the car, repeating his actions to himself. "You are so pretty," he whispers, puppy-dog eyes set on me for a second before he focuses on starting the car.
     When the soft hum of the engine is started, a hand settles on my thigh, fingers squeezing hard enough to make gentle indents in my flesh. His other hand clings to the steering wheel, releasing it long enough to switch the car's gears before backing out of the parking spot. Shoyo looks so hot when he drives, it's almost a shame he wants to take a chauffeur to Shizuoka.