#atsumu angst
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miya atsumu and the chronic lovesick disease
୨୧ ━━ ❛ what am i to you, atsumu? ❜
word count ⋆ 12.6k (12,607)
genre ⋆ fluff, slight angst, friends to lovers, college au ━ gn!reader
the question comes to him one autumn night, surrounded by his friends and the chilly november breeze, asked by, who he assumes to be, just another nobody looking for money: what is it that you desire most, boy? the psychic asks, her saccharine smile forgotten when he looks into the crystal ball and all he ends up seeing is you. alternatively: miya atsumu is not in love. what the hell? who would ever suggest something like that?
warnings ⋆ alcohol consumption, mutual pining, denial of feelings!!! lots of it!! and with this denial comes some stupid decisions!!!
author’s note ⋆ ive actually like never been to the psychic before so if its inaccurate im so sorry ..... it’s not really a big part of the plot though so hopefully u can overlook it 😭
o. Desire
This is a scam, is Atsumu’s first thought when he takes a seat inside the tent and finds himself face-to-face with a crystal ball.
People like this are dangerous — his twin brother never lets anyone forget it. They take advantage of an individual’s fear of the unknown and they make money off it. It’s genius, because even the strongest people can become weak to something as mundane as self-proclaimed clairvoyants setting base near a college campus.
Atsumu supposes he’s no exception. Even if Bokuto was the one who forced him to do this in the first place.
“Hello,” the woman greets, her hair pinned into a tight bun. “You’re here for a reading?”
“Sure,” Atsumu huffs, shivering when the cold breeze sneaks into the tent. He really should’ve worn a thicker jacket.
When he looks up from the table, the woman gives him a smile. It’s analytical, as if all he needed to do was sit down for her to know everything about him. He fidgets in his seat, growing more uncomfortable under her gaze.
“So,” she says, clasping her hands together and resting them on the table. “What is it that you desire most, boy?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Your greatest desire,” she repeats patiently.
Atsumu blinks before tilting his head. “Um, I’m not—”
“I’m sure you know,” she says. “Is it strength? Power? Love?”
All colour drains from Atsumu’s face. The psychic smiles wickedly.
Atsumu thinks this may be the end of him. He never liked it when people acted like they knew more about his intentions than he did, and it only took mere minutes before the woman figured him out.
His hand twitches. He would feel a lot better if you were here—
“Ah,” she clicks her tongue, “bingo.”
i. Strength
After a borderline homicidal game of rock, paper, scissors, Sakusa lands himself a new roommate.
Move-in day comes two weeks later and Atsumu sits in the lobby of the building, waiting for your car to pull into the parking lot.
He notes the time — it’s five minutes past 8:30, making you more than half an hour late — before grumbling under his breath and continuing to scroll through his feed. When Instagram notifies him that he’s all caught up, he exits the app and opens Twitter in hopes that something will be able to entertain him until you show up. He likes some tweets, retweets a few more, and terrorizes Suna before he grows bored at the lack of anything interesting on his timeline.
Another glance at the time. He scowls. It’s only been two minutes.
Atsumu debates asking Sakusa if he knows what’s happened to you. When he opens their message thread, he raises an eyebrow at how unbelievably one-sided their conversations are, but he decides that’s a problem for another day. Your absence is more important to Atsumu than Sakusa’s terrible conversational skills ever will be.
(He’ll bother Sakusa about it later).
He’s about to send a long string of emojis when an incredulous voice reaches his ears.
“Tsumu?”
He looks up and immediately pockets his phone with a grin. “You’re late.”
You adjust the box of donuts in your hands and squint at him as if his smile is as blinding as the sun. “I slept through my alarm. What the hell are you doing here?”
Atsumu gestures to his outfit. “What does it look like?”
You stare blankly.
“Seriously?” he scoffs. “I told you last night I’d help you move in. How’d you forget? Am I that forgettable? You wound me, I—”
“Shut up,” you say, shifting your weight. Atsumu’s eyes flicker to the sticker on the box, and he tries his best not to frown when he notices you’ve written Sakusa’s name in calligraphy with a heart at the end. “Of course I remember you offering to help because I spent my entire night telling you it was fine.”
“You expect me to believe that you can bring all your shit in by yourself? You look like you just rolled out of bed.”
“Thank you, Tsumu, I can always count on you to make me feel like I’ve been shot by Cupid’s arrow,” you quip, brushing past him to get to the elevator, and as if it’s second nature, he follows. “I can’t believe people walk around campus calling you sweet.”
“I never said you looked bad,” he says. “I think the dried drool on your chin is pretty cute, actually.”
“Whatever,” you hurriedly wipe your face. “Speaking of bad, what on Earth are you wearing?”
Atsumu knows full well you’re not complimenting him, but he decides to treat your comment as if you have. He beams, picking at the sweatpants you eye with disgust before walking into the elevator with you.
“It’s my mover outfit!”
“Your mover outfit,” you deadpan. “Disregarding whatever that means — those sweatpants are baggier than Kenma’s eyebags. And they do nothing for your ass.”
He smirks. “You were checking out my ass?”
You avoid eye contact, feigning indifference, but Atsumu’s known you for too long and immediately recognizes your fluster by the way you tug at the hem of your clothing.
“No,” you deny curtly, straightening your posture when the elevator doors open to show Sakusa’s floor. “It’s just hard not to notice when those sweats are ridiculously baggy. Seriously, are you trying to put something in there? I could fit a month’s worth of groceries in those.”
You’re walking swiftly, eager to get to your new apartment and end the conversation. The both of you are well aware that Atsumu’s more than capable of catching up with you, but he hangs back, preferring to watch you babble while he trails behind.
You clutch the donuts closer to your body as words tumble out of your mouth — a list of things that could fit in his sweats, including two jugs of milk and a family size pack of chips — and Atsumu can’t stop the lopsided smile from appearing on his face.
“Maybe a carton of eggs, too,” he suggests.
“Oh, I wouldn’t trust you with eggs,” you say sharply.
“Why not?”
“Are you really asking me that? Last month I lent you my blanket and you gave it back to me with a hole in it.”
“For the last time,” Atsumu begins, quickening so he’s side-by-side with you, “that was Samu’s fault, not mine.”
“…Alright.”
“Y/N,” he whines. “I’m serious! None of that was on me — I even bought you a new blanket! Would Samu have done that? I don’t think so—”
“Actually—”
“The point is,” Atsumu interrupts, throwing you a glare before continuing, “blame Samu. Whenever something bad happens, blame him. That’s what I always do.”
“Spoken like a true, responsible individual.”
“Hey!” he protests. “I’m responsible!”
You open your mouth to deny his claims, but the pout he plasters over his face is enough for you to give in. Too tired to give him something as golden as a verbal agreement, you opt for changing the subject. “Do you think Sakusa will like the donuts?”
Atsumu frowns. “Why does it matter? They’re donuts.”
You grow annoyed at his impertinence. “I want him to like me, you moron.”
His expression sours further. “He’s your friend.”
“And I won a game of rock, paper, scissors, so now I’m his roommate,” you remark. “There’s a difference between being friends with someone and living with them. I mean, would you want to live with Bokuto?”
Atsumu’s answer is swift. “Hell no.”
“Exactly,” you say, “I need us to get along.”
You stop in front of a door and begin searching your pockets for your key. There’s a pinch between your eyebrows, the box trembles as you struggle to balance it with one hand, and your clothes are a mess, but underneath the fluorescent light of the hallway, Atsumu can’t help but think you almost look angelic.
He shakes the thought away, squashes it beneath his foot until the remnants of it have been absorbed by the carpet.
“The last time I saw you this nervous was when you asked out that barista,” he muses.
You dig your hand into the breast pocket of your shirt and huff when you find nothing. “What are you implying?”
Atsumu stares pointedly at the sticker on the box. Your face morphs into one of horror.
“Are you dense?”
“Calligraphy, Y/N. I’ve never seen you write calligraphy in my entire life.”
“I was trying something out!”
“Oh, I’m sure.”
You smack him on the shoulder. “I was being thoughtful,” you grunt, softening when Atsumu winces and rubs the spot where you hit him. “He’s my friend, and that’s all he ever will be.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Really?”
Your eyes leave him for a millisecond, flickering to somewhere else on his face before returning his gaze once more. “Of course,” you say softly, “Besides, I—”
The door swings open.
“You’re loud,” Sakusa deadpans in the doorway. His eyes travel down to the donuts. “Are those for me?”
You hand them over to him. “Yeah, I didn’t know what you liked, so they’re all assorted.”
Sakusa hums in thanks before tilting his head at Atsumu. “Why’re you here?”
“To help them move in,” Atsumu grins, placing a hand on your shoulder and squeezing it. “I know you’re going to the drycleaners, and I couldn’t let Y/N do this all by themselves.”
Sakusa shrugs and turns to go further into the apartment. “Sounds good to me. I’d rather not have to press those nasty elevator buttons multiple times just so I can come down and get your stuff,” he gives you the best apologetic look he can muster. “Have fun, though.”
Before you can go on a tangent about how Sakusa should be more welcoming, Atsumu pipes up, “Yeah, don’t worry! ‘S all in good hands,” he nudges you with his elbow. “Right? Your stuff can’t be that heavy.”
Atsumu, not for the first time and certainly not the last, stands corrected.
Not only is your stuff heavy, but there’s much more than he expected.
With each trip down to the parking lot, his muscles grow strained, and he feels the fatigue threaten to droop his eyelids shut. But, in the corner of his eyes, he sees your persistence to get this over and done with, and Atsumu decides it won’t hurt to push through.
His complaining and wailing can wait until later.
After you place the last box into your new bedroom, you turn to him while wiping the sweat from your forehead. “Thank you,” you say breathlessly.
He goes to tease you, to say that you owe him now, that you’ll be indebted to him for life.
But what comes out of his mouth instead is: “‘Course. Call me whenever you want, and I’ll be there.”
Atsumu calls it a housewarming gift. Sakusa says there is hardly anything warming about it.
It referring to the group of boys gathered in the living room — your friends on good days, the bane of your existence on all the others — with their limbs strewn about and their soda cans sitting too close to the edge of the coffee table. It’s an odd sight for Sakusa to have this many people over on a Thursday night, but Atsumu insisted, and he caught Sakusa on a good day when he asked if he could hold a movie night at the apartment to celebrate your new accommodations.
You’re sure Sakusa regrets it now. He sits in his armchair with a permanent scowl, swatting Hinata away when the boy reaches to fix the crease between Sakusa’s brows. If looks could kill, Atsumu would’ve been dropped dead ten minutes ago.
He covers his fear with a grin, but out of the corner of his mouth, he says to you, “Help me.”
You snicker. “You’re on your own, dude.”
“I thought I told you to stop calling me that.”
“What? But Bokuto calls you that, too!”
“Yeah, but it’s Bokuto.”
“I have no idea what you mean by that.”
Atsumu only tsks, forcibly ending the conversation by suggesting to the room that they should all play a game to decide who’ll prepare all the popcorn. A chorus of agreements is what he gets in response, along with someone complaining about how he should be spared due to his gruelling volleyball practice, and another person expressing his sympathies for the future loser.
Atsumu prepares the ladder game, and after he’s done, he looks at everyone with fiery hot intensity, an expression similar to one he wears during a match. “Remember,” he declares, “whoever loses can’t complain.”
Luck isn’t on his side tonight.
“What the hell!” he screeches once the reality of his defeat settles in.
Osamu, far too smug for Atsumu’s liking, quips, “I thought you said no complaining.”
The noise that leaves Atsumu’s mouth is something akin to a pathetic but animalistic growl. He goes to protest, even raising his hand to list off reasons why he’s been wronged — someone must’ve cheated, or maybe everyone in this room has a ruthless vendetta against him — but just as the words are about to leave his lips, his eyes land on you.
You challenge him to complain with a look, and he suddenly gets a much better idea.
“Y/N,” he says sweetly, growing pleased at your uneasiness. “As the host of this housewarming party, it’s only fair that you help me, too.”
“What?” you squawk, leaning forward as if you’ve misheard him. “But you were the one who suggested doing all of this! How is it now on me to help—”
“Well, he wouldn’t have done this if it wasn’t for you,” Sakusa muses.
You stare at him in disbelief. “Are you taking his side? What happened to roommate solidarity?”
“You just made that up,” Sakusa replies. “Besides, this thing will go by faster if two people prepare the popcorn, and I don’t think Miya wants anyone else other than you.”
Atsumu shifts uncomfortably at the implication, and he involuntarily commits your surprised expression to memory.
(When he goes to sleep later that night, your surprise is all he sees against the darkness of his eyelids).
“Other than me—?”
“To make the popcorn,” Sakusa drawls matter-of-factly.
You blink. “Right.” You look at Atsumu, and he shrugs dumbly, unsure of how else to react to your sudden change in behaviour.
To him, you have always been easy to read, but right now, he’s not entirely sure if there’s a word for the expression on your face. He yearns to press a hand to your cheek to melt the malaise away, to be rid of it forever so he can see you smiling again.
Something in his chest twists.
“Right!” you repeat, more loudly this time, and startling the rest of your friends. You slap your hands on your lap before standing and grabbing Atsumu’s wrist to pull him away. “I guess I’m helping you make popcorn. You owe me one, Miya.”
Your skin is warmer than usual, threatening to burn him until your fingerprints are marked onto his skin.
(Behind him, Suna stage-whispers, “You are so whipped, Y/N.”)
Your touch disappears the moment you’ve both crossed the threshold into the kitchenette. Atsumu flexes his hand, trying to get rid of an urge in his veins he can’t quite explain.
“Hey,” you say casually, back turned to him as you dig through the cabinets for the popcorn packets. “Did you finish that essay for literature class?”
Atsumu awkwardly clears his throat and begins playing with the settings on the microwave. “The paper?”
“Yes, the paper,” you say. “The one I told you to start two weeks ago so you wouldn’t end up sending a half-assed essay two minutes before the deadline?”
“Why are you talking like you think I didn’t start it yet?”
“Because I know you, Tsumu,” you reply, shutting the cabinet with your elbow and ungracefully dropping the packets onto the counter beside him. “And I lost faith in your ability to listen to me a long time ago.”
“How rude. I always listen to you,” he sticks his nose in the air like a scorned, evil, cartoon antagonist, “I just don’t take all your suggestions. There’s a difference.”
“You make my life so much harder,” you huff, inputting a minute-thirty into the microwave. “I honestly think I lose ten years of my lifespan whenever you tell me you’ve gotten yourself into another dilemma.”
“Don’t be dramatic. I’m sure you only lose, like, three at most.”
“No, it’s definitely ten,” you say. “You worry me too much, Miya.”
The smile on Atsumu’s face, previously smug and confident, softens.
“Seriously, though,” you continue, jabbing a finger into his sternum. “The paper? It’s due tonight.”
He flicks your nose, snorting when you pull a face. “I sent it in this morning.”
“Seriously?”
“Hey! Don’t act so shocked!”
“Well, this is, like, the first time you’ve ever done something even remotely responsible, so—”
“I thought we both agreed I’m a generally responsible person.”
Your silence is enough of a response.
Atsumu gasps just as the microwave beeps, allowing you to ignore his stunned expression in order to begin preparing another bag of kernels.
“Give me one reason—”
“The blanket—”
“—that isn’t the blanket,” he says sourly. “That doesn’t count. I told you that was Samu’s fault, not mine.”
“Do you want a list? Because I have one.”
“Are you serious or are you just fucking with me?”
“Osamu and I have a Google Doc.”
Another gasp. You roll your eyes.
“Now you’re in kahoots with my brother? What’s next? Planning my downfall with Suna?”
“I’m sure he’s fine doing that himself without my help.”
He whines, stomping his foot when you only stare back in amusement. “Don’t be so unrepentant, Y/N!”
You dump the contents of the hot popcorn bags into a large bowl for everyone to share. “Unrepentant? Was that the word on your word-of-the-day calendar?”
“Shut up. You know only Kuroo has lame stuff like that,” Atsumu grumbles, throwing the last popcorn packet into the faulty brick of power you and Sakusa call a microwave. “I used it in my essay. Thesauruses are a godsend. It really came in handy when I was writing about the flower symbolism in the book. Y’know what’s even better, though? SparkNotes.”
You tilt your head, studying Atsumu with furrowed eyebrows. “Huh.”
“What d’you mean huh?”
“Nothing,” you say innocently. “I just didn’t think you’d choose that essay topic, that’s all.”
“It was the easiest one,” he states. You hum in agreement, but he can sense you falling into a state of pondering before it even happens, so he lightly pokes your shoulder in hopes it’ll be enough to keep you from drifting too far from his reach. “Why, what did you think I picked?”
He can tell you’re debating what to tell him, letting a few seconds pass before you give in. “I thought you’d do the one that centred more around…” you trail off, clenching and unclenching your jaw, “the love aspect of it all.”
He blinks. “Why?”
Childishly, you retort, “Why not?”
Atsumu licks his lips. “Well, you’re always telling me to write what I know. And I may not know a whole lot about flowers, but I know more about those than, y’know, love.”
Something passes over your face, the same thing he saw when Sakusa said something — implied something — in the living room. “Really?”
“Yeah,” he answers. “I’ve had relationships, sure, but none that made me feel anything like— like that.”
You drum your fingers against the bowl. “None at all?”
“None at all.”
You click your tongue and stare at the microwave. Its buzz has become more prominent in your silence, a mocking hum hanging over the air as you contemplate and Atsumu stares, waiting impatiently for a word to slip past your lips.
But there’s nothing. Instead, the microwave beeps again, indicating that the last of the popcorn is ready.
“That’s good to know,” you say lightly. At least, that’s what you attempt, but you sound different, like a parasite has found solace in your vocal cords and fiddled with everything Atsumu’s familiar with.
“It is?”
“Yeah,” you nod, handing the bowl over to him. Popcorn threatens to spill but Atsumu can’t bring himself to care. “Hey, be careful. What, is it too heavy? Are you too weak to carry it?”
“It’s popcorn,” Atsumu rasps.
You eye him oddly, as if he’s the one whose behaviour should be examined under a microscope. “Don’t spill it everywhere. Sakusa’ll get pissed, and we’re already pushing it with this movie night thing.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Of course,” you agree. “But if you need me—”
“I know,” he interjects.
Simple promises are often uttered during private moments between you and Atsumu — an oath to be there for the other, to stand by their side no matter what. The words soothe him when they’re said aloud; he knows, underneath all the teasing and the bickering and the irritated eyerolls, is your pinky and his, intertwined.
And despite the voice in his head taunting him about a secret he’s unaware of, he allows the promise to enchant him.
I’ll be there for you.
“Do you need help?”
Atsumu grunts, adjusting your arm around his neck as he opens the car door. “No, I’m fine.”
“Thanks for picking them up,” Aran says, voice loud above the frat house’s music, “I know you were tired from practice, but—”
“It’s fine. I probably would’ve killed you if you didn’t call me, anyway.”
“Osamu said you’d say that.”
Atsumu expertly brushes off the statement, gently ushering you into the passenger’s seat and putting your seatbelt on with gentle fingers. Behind him, Aran watches the movements with thoughtful eyes and a quirk of his eyebrows.
“The last time they got this drunk was at the fall festival last year,” he muses. “For your sake, I hope it doesn’t happen again.”
“What does that mean?”
“Hm?”
“For your sake,” Atsumu echoes, turning to face Aran once the door’s been shut and he’s made sure you’re sleeping soundlessly with your head resting against the cold window. Atsumu stands pin-straight, his posture contrasting the way Aran stands opposite him, relaxed with his hands stuffed in his pockets. “What’s that mean?”
Aran laughs, like he’s unsure if this is a serious question. “Well, I mean… they’re always asking for you whenever they get drunk like this.”
“I guess so, yeah.”
“That’s why you got here in record time, right?” Off Atsumu’s questioning gaze, Aran continues, “I called you five minutes ago, and your place is a fifteen-minute drive away. And you’re not in your pajamas, even though you said you’d change into them the moment you got home.”
“I was in the area,” Atsumu says weakly.
“Doing what?”
“Getting dinner.”
“Why didn’t you just get something delivered to your apartment?”
“Is it illegal to want to pick up the food myself?”
Aran raises his hands up in defence. “No, it’s not, but it’s also not illegal to say you knew this would happen,” he shrugs. “You knew they’d need you Atsumu, so you came. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”
Before Atsumu can force a response from his throat, Aran has already slipped back into the party, leaving Atsumu alone on the street. With an annoyed huff, he stomps to the driver’s side, muttering irked questions under his breath about what Aran could possibly mean. He opens the door with more aggression than necessary, only softening when he sees you stir underneath the jacket he’s draped over you to keep you warm.
He unlocks his phone when he feels a buzz in his pocket.
[00:30] Atsumu: are you still awake?
[00:48] Sakusa: Yes. Why?
Atsumu knows that your apartment’s farther from here than his, and he’s sure that by the time he arrives, Sakusa won’t answer the door because he’ll grow tired of Atsumu’s lack of response and go to bed.
The decision is made when he takes a right instead of a left, when he pulls into a parking lot that isn’t yours, when he carries your body up the stairwell and into his bed with ease.
Everything else comes as routine. He tucks the blanket under your chin, moves the glass of water so it’s too far for you to accidentally knock over in the morning, and leaves a change of clothes at the foot of the bed.
Atsumu likes routine. He likes the predictability of it all.
A groggy voice stops him from leaving the room.
“Tsumu?”
“Hey,” he whispers, crouching so he’s eye-level with you. “I hope you don’t mind I brought you back here.”
You blink sleepily at him, too inebriated and fatigued to acknowledge his words. “You’re a really good person, y’know,” you say languidly.
He smiles, amused. “Really?”
“Yeah. Thank you for picking me up.”
“It’s nothing,” he murmurs.
“It’s not.”
“I’m sure you would’ve been fine without me. Omi could’ve picked you up, couldn’t he? Samu could’ve, too.”
“I know, but you’re the one who always does,” you respond, nuzzling further into the pillow. “You’ve—you’ve helped me a lot.”
You shakily reach a hand to his face, playing with the strands of hair that fall to his forehead. He relaxes, eyelids growing heavy at the feeling of your featherlike touch against his cool skin.
“You’ve brightened up my life, I think,” your voice is muffled, but it rings in Atsumu’s ears clear as day, almost as loud as his quickening heart rate. “I appreciate you a lot more than you know.”
ii. Power
He watches with bated breath as the ball cuts through the air while gravity begins to pull Hinata back to Earth. Everything unfolds in slow motion; everything has faded into white noise.
With a slam, the volleyball connects with the ground, and it’s only when he’s pulled into a hug does the reverie shatter. Like being hauled out from underwater, the roars of the crowd flood his ears as Bokuto begins jumping on the balls of his feet and Hinata comes rushing over to them with a triumphant shout.
On the other side of Bokuto, Sakusa smiles, rolling his eyes fondly when Hinata and Bokuto begin making post-game plans to celebrate their victory. Atsumu, on the other hand, is uncharacteristically silent as he searches the bleachers with a cloudy look in his eyes.
He’s snapped out of it once again when Bokuto tugs on his wrist so they can go and listen to what their coach has to say.
Atsumu isn’t a stranger to winning — he used to get drunk on this sort of stuff, the exhilarating rush that shot through his veins after every successful game. He basks in the crowd’s excitement and admiration, because to be fawned over is the closest to love he’s ever been (if he could even call it that), but once the adrenaline cuts him off and he’s left alone in the locker room, it all fizzles out.
Something’s missing at the end of all this. Usually, the void in his chest is insignificant enough for him to brush off. However, today is different.
It’s abnormal for the power of the win to dwindle into nothingness only minutes after the game ends, but the blue moon has risen tonight, and now everything feels weird. The cheers aren’t enough to keep him from searching the gymnasium for a familiar face, and he itches to get to his phone in the locker room when he can’t find who he’s looking for.
“Why do you look like we’ve lost?” Bokuto asks. “C’mon, man! Smile! We just won! Aren’t you happy?”
“Of course I am,” Atsumu grunts.
(But…)
But.
The adrenaline shoots through him again when a voice he knows all too well catches his attention over the noise.
“Hey!” you rush towards them, dishevelled. “Before you get mad, I know I missed the game, I took a nap and slept through it, fuck, I am never going to stay up late playing Fortnite with you again, Tsumu, you’ve ruined my sleep schedule, but—” you huff, trying to catch your breath as you hand Atsumu a bag, “I’m sorry that I didn’t come. Congrats on winning, I heard the shouts from down the street.”
Atsumu smiles and peers into the bag. “What is this?”
“Mochi,” you answer. “A celebratory gift for my favourite setter.”
“I’m the only setter you know.”
“Which is why you’re my favourite.”
Atsumu snorts but hugs the bag to his chest, like it’s his most prized possession and he’d drag it along to the grave with him. “Thank you.”
If someone were to ask Atsumu if he liked the pedestal he’s put on after a match, he’d say yes. Of course he does. He quite likes it on top of the world.
But you match his joyful smile with one of your own and Atsumu finds himself rethinking his answer. “Anytime.”
The top of the world may be nice, but it is nothing compared to being on the ground next to you.
“You know what they say. With great power comes great responsibility.”
“Would you relax?” Sakusa snarls. “You’re in charge of us for a day. Get your head out of your ass.”
On the floor, Hinata lays like a starfish as he stares up at the ceiling, cheeks tainted a bright pink hue. “I think power’s gotten to your head.”
Atsumu waves him off. “I think this is the best practice we’ve ever had.”
Their captain had to run out five minutes into practice — relationship problems is what he grumbled to Atsumu before leaving him in charge without a second thought, much to the rest of the team’s dismay.
“I hope you’re never put it in charge again,” Bokuto complains before downing the rest of his water.
“Don’t be dramatic—”
“Do you know how gruelling this practice must be for Hinata to be tired?”
“Give us a break,” Hinata pleads, shifting his position so he’s on his knees. “Please. I’ll buy you lunch for the rest of the month if you end our suffering.”
Atsumu pretends to ponder the offer and grows more amused as Hinata begins to twitch nervously. “Okay, fine,” he relents.
Hinata cries with glee, hugging Atsumu’s legs before pushing himself off the floor and rushing out of the gymnasium — whether it’s to refill his water bottle or hide until he’s found, Atsumu may never know. With a snort, Atsumu grabs his own bottle amongst the rest on the bench, promising Bokuto absentmindedly that he’ll go easy on them for the rest of the day.
“I want to have at least a little energy left for the party at Kuroo’s tonight,” Bokuto adds, his smile widening when Atsumu nods in agreement. “See, I knew you’d get it!”
Sakusa takes a seat on the bench. “Are you going to the party, Miya?”
“Yeah, Y/N’s forcing me to come with,” Atsumu says. “How about you?”
Bokuto answers for him. “I’m making him come!” he exclaims. “You’ll have so much fun, Omi, you don’t have to worry.”
Sakusa deadpans, “I’m only staying for five minutes.”
Bokuto waves off his iciness with a flippant hand. “I’ll convince you to stay longer.”
“I really doubt that.”
“Don’t underestimate me!” Bokuto huffs. He turns away from Sakusa before he can continue to argue and focusses on Atsumu. “It’s good that you’re coming too, Tsum-Tsum! Maybe you can finally meet the guy Y/N’s going on a date with.”
Atsumu halts, hand tightening around his bottle. “What?”
“Some guy from their Psychology class asked them out a few days ago,” Bokuto says obliviously. “I think it was the night you picked them up? I don’t know. I think he was nice, though. Y/N probably already told you about it.”
You didn’t.
Atsumu forces a grin on his face. “Right, they did.”
Sakusa studies his expression with pinched eyebrows.
Atsumu’s cheeks hurt for the rest of practice, a consequence of the cheerful façade he’s plastered, but the pain subsides — if only for a moment — when he sees you outside the gymnasium, carrying your favourite boba drink in one hand, and his favourite in the other.
“Hey!” you greet, handing him the drink. “How was practice?”
“Awful,” Hinata mopes with a pout. “Your boyfriend here was running it like the navy.”
You frown. Atsumu blanches. “My boyfriend…?”
“Yeah!” Hinata slaps Atsumu on the back. “Him.”
All colour drains from your face. Your grip on your cup loosens for a split second before tightening it again in panic. You look from Hinata, the picture of innocence, to Atsumu, who only stares back, just as bewildered.
Hinata seems to take the hint as his eyes flicker between the two of you in confusion. “Sorry, I… I overheard Bokuto saying you were going on a date with someone, so I assumed—”
“Date?” you interrupt frantically, arms flapping to deny the words that have recklessly tumbled from Hinata’s mouth. “With who— with Atsumu? He’s not— we’re not— I’m not— we’re—”
“We’re friends,” Atsumu finishes, saving you from your stammering. You look at him gratefully, and he can only offer a weak smile in return. “I don’t know why you’d think we’re dating, Shoyo.”
“Sorry—”
“They’re going on a date with someone else.”
You narrow your eyes. “What do you—?”
“Oh, hey,” Sakusa says as he walks out of the doors. He tugs on the string of his mask to make sure it’s secure before nodding at you. “Did you stop by the grocery store yet?”
Atsumu’s words are long forgotten when realization engulfs your figure at the speed of light. “Oh, no! I took a nap and—”
“You really need to fix your sleep schedule.”
“I’ll have you know I slept four hours last night.”
“…That’s not a good thing.”
“It’s an hour more than usual.”
The genuine concern is evident in Sakusa’s eyes before he rubs his temples with a sigh. “Okay, whatever. Let’s go to the store before we head home, I need to buy more protein powder.”
“Ay, ay, captain.”
“Don’t call me that.”
You snicker then turn to Atsumu with a smile he’d move mountains for. “I’ll see you later, Tsumu?”
“Yeah, sure,” he murmurs. “Don’t take too long to get ready.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you say, patting his cheek. “Thanks for agreeing to drive me there and back.”
He finds himself involuntarily leaning into your touch. “Don’t mention it.”
Your touch lingers for a second too long before you salute him in goodbye and rush to follow Sakusa to your car. Atsumu watches as your figure gets smaller and smaller, a smile on his face as you glance over your shoulder and stick your tongue out when you catch him staring.
He flips you off and makes sure to stick his tongue out, too, in hopes that it’ll make you laugh loud enough for him to hear.
(He doesn’t notice the mischievous glint in Sakusa’s eyes, nor does he catch his name slipping past Sakusa’s lips).
(But he does notice you tilt your head, lost in thought, before you look at him again, attempting to figure him out despite the distance.
He thinks nothing of it).
Just after his 9am lecture, someone asks Atsumu out on a date.
She’s nice and easy on the eyes; a little timid, but he supposes that’s just the affect he has on people. Big man on campus is what he’s always referred to as, until they realize that he’s nothing if not a goofball off-court. Still, the girl — Miwa is what she said her name was — doesn’t know that yet, so Atsumu gives her the benefit of the doubt.
And he says yes.
At 11:00, the whole team has caught wind of his evening plans, and Sakusa texts him to tell him he’s an idiot. Atsumu frowns, asks why, but Sakusa doesn’t reply.
At 6:00, an hour before his date, he shows up on your doorstep with a bag of clothes and a tie loose around his neck. His left pant leg is tucked into his sock and the other is haphazardly cuffed; his hair is all over the place, sticking up at the back as the result of a hair-gel disaster.
You stare at him with pinched eyebrows. “What do you need?”
“I’ve got a date,” he explains frantically. “I need your help.”
You hesitantly let him in.
At 6:15 is when the argument occurs. The reason why is something Atsumu can’t recall, only that it was something so small and insignificant that the argument shouldn’t have even happened in the first place. He thinks you may have been in a bad mood before he even arrived, but that doesn’t change the fact that you haven’t talked to him in the past five hours.
Oh, right. And the power goes out at 6:45.
He texts Miwa to cancel, promising to reschedule on a day where they won’t be talking to each other in the dark, but his phone dies before he gets a response. With a shrug, he tosses it onto the coffee table and makes a mental note to charge it as soon as the power comes back on, knowing full well that he’ll forget the reminder the second he makes it.
He should feel more guilty about the fact that he cares more about your absence than his postponed date.
Atsumu stares at your door for far too long before deciding that he’ll apologize to you — for what, he doesn’t know, but apologize first, ask questions later is his motto — once you’ve left your room. He’ll grovel and get on his knees and even humiliate himself if he has to, as long as it gets you to talk to him again, because God knows he’ll never survive this outage by himself.
(Also, you’re his best friend, and — Atsumu has never told anybody this — the last time you gave him the silent treatment, his chest physically hurt from not speaking to you that he vowed to never anger you again).
It’s 11:35, and you still haven’t left your room.
For the past few hours, you’ve been watching Netflix without headphones to torture a bored Atsumu, but the noises stopped about ten minutes ago, meaning your phone must’ve died too, so it’s only a matter of time before you leave your room in hopes of finding something to do.
Atsumu’s almost giddy at the thought.
At 11:50, he makes his move.
He hears the creaking of your door and your socked feet softly padding in the hallway. Atsumu’s always tried going to sleep early so he can hit the gym before it gets too busy the next morning, so you must’ve waited the latest you could bear with the assumption that he had fallen asleep on the couch.
Atsumu tiptoes to the end of the hallway, teeth bright compared to the darkness of the apartment, and his grin only widens when you finally see him.
You blink before scoffing, brushing past him to enter the kitchenette.
“Y/N,” he says, attempting to be stern but it comes off as a whine in his desperation. “Look at me.” You spare him a glance. Atsumu deems that’s good enough. “Listen, I’m sorry.”
He watches you open a cupboard and fill your glass with water. The seconds that pass by are agonizingly slow and Atsumu shifts uncomfortably when the silence drags on.
Finally, you look at him, unamused, and say, “What exactly are you sorry for?”
He purses his lips in thought. “Uh…”
Rolling your eyes, you turn to make your way back to your room.
“Wait! Wait,” Atsumu shouts, rushing over to block the exit. His eyes dart all over the kitchen in hopes the walls will have the answer to your question. You tap your foot impatiently, and it’s only when you go to open your mouth to tell him to move that he blurts out, “I’m sorry for eating the rest of your chocolate cake.”
You look at him incredulously. “That was you?”
“Yeah, I— wait, you’re not mad about that?”
“I am now!” you huff, using an arm to try and shove him out of the way, but he catches your wrist.
“Then I don’t get it!” he groans. “What did I do?”
You give him a once-over. “Well, what didn’t you do?”
“This is about the outfit?”
“You’ve cuffed your slacks, Tsumu. They’re cuffed. No sane person cuffs their slacks.”
He struggles to wrap his head around your response. “You’re mad,” he repeats, then gestures to his outfit confusedly, “about what I’m wearing.”
You seem to realize just how ridiculous it sounds uttered out loud, because you pout. “Not just that.”
“Then what else?”
You stumble over your words before you coherently state, “You’re going on a date.”
He frowns. “Yes.”
“You’re going on a date,” you say again when it’s obvious he’s not catching on to what you mean. When all Atsumu can manage is a perplexed sound, you add frustratedly, “You’re going on a date, which I don’t understand, since Sakusa told me that I didn’t need to worry anymore, but I guess he’s wrong because you came here asking for my help with looking nice on your night out with Miwa and—”
“Wait,” Atsumu interrupts, still puzzled. “What did Sakusa tell you?”
“He told me not to worry.”
“Worry about what?”
That snaps you out of it.
You open and close your mouth like a fish out of water. Then, you cross your arms over your chest, muttering out a response with feigned nonchalance, “Whatever.”
Atsumu protests, “Hey, I—”
“Where were you even going to take her?” you swiftly change the subject, and Atsumu decides that he’ll let it go — that’s what he’s been doing for a while, anyway, and another day really couldn’t hurt, could it?
“Dancing,” he says.
“Dancing?”
“Yes,” he responds, relaxing at the sight of your amusement. “I searched up unique date ideas and Google told me to take her dancing.”
“You should’ve just taken her to dinner,” you say. “Because you can’t dance.”
“That’s not true at all.”
“You were born with two left feet.”
“Quit lying, you’re only saying that because you’re mad at me.”
“I’m only telling you the truth!”
“I’m a good dancer!”
“You really aren’t. I thought that was established two weeks ago when we were playing Just Dance and you knocked over Aran’s vase.”
“That says nothing about my ability to—”
“Yes, it does.”
“I’ll prove it.”
“Yeah, okay, sure.”
“I’m serious,” he says, stretching his hand out for you to take.
You look at his palm and back up at him. “You’re kidding.”
“Not in any way, shape, or form.”
“We don’t even have music—”
“I’ll sing,” he shakes his hand. “C’mon, hurry up, my arm’s getting tired.”
Without a second thought, you interlace your fingers with his as he whisks you around the kitchen, his laugh loud when you yelp at his fast movements. He places his other hand on the small of your back to keep you from slipping on the tile as he leans to whisper into your ear.
“Any song requests?”
“None. You’re an awful singer,” you retort, bristling at the warmth of his breath.
“So, what are you saying? You’d rather waltz in silence?”
“Yes. And I wouldn’t even call this waltzing. We’re just sliding around the kitchen.”
“We’re waltzing,” Atsumu says firmly, daring you to argue. You only sigh, letting him pull you closer as you two clumsily move around the room. He sings your favourite song despite your insistence for him not to, humming the parts he doesn’t know and doing his best to hit every note.
You laugh into his chest, and he makes sure the sound is trapped in his ribcage so he’ll never have to go a day without it.
When the song reaches its end, you place your head on his shoulder, your breath piercing through his blazer and skin. “I’m sorry that I got mad at you,” you whisper despite the quiet, as if making your voice any louder will shatter the atmosphere. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“It’s okay,” he murmurs.
“It’s not, but thanks for trying to make me feel better,” you say timidly. “I guess I just got my hopes up.”
Atsumu tries to get the information out of you again, the very thing that’s been bothering you — and, as a result, him — for weeks. “About what?”
Your fingers tighten around his. “Nothing,” you answer, and if you notice just how much his posture deflates then you say nothing of it. “Can we stay like this for a little while?”
“Yeah, of course,” he says, rubbing circles onto the back of your hand. “We can stay for as long as you want.”
iii. Love
“You’re gonna get it in my eye!”
“Then stay still!”
“Just promise not to poke me.”
“I’ve already promised five times.”
“Then promise again!”
“Tsumu—” you sigh, slumping your shoulders as you meet his defiant gaze. “I promise I won’t get anything into your eyes or your mouth or your nostrils. Cross my heart and hope to die.”
Atsumu narrows his eyes. “For some reason that doesn’t make me feel much better.”
You groan. “We’ve been over this millions of times—”
“Sue me for thinking you’re still mad at me.”
“I told you—”
“Sakusa got into my head,” he explains for the umpteenth time that evening, “he keeps on saying I’ve done something wrong, but he won’t tell me what, and he keeps looking at me as if I’ve committed a felony. His face keeps me up at night, it’s the reason why I’ve had so many nightmares recently—”
“Sakusa’s being a nuisance. Trust me, you haven’t done anything wrong,” you assure, your voice echoing off the walls of your tiny bathroom. “You have nothing to worry about, so stop acting like I’m trying to kill you with this face mask.”
He stares pointedly at the tub sitting next to you on the sink. “It’s scarily green,” he whispers conspiratorially. “Like, it’s Hulk-green. Nothing should be that green.”
“If you’re implying it’s poisonous, it’s not.”
“That’s what they want you to think.”
“You’re ridiculous,” you grumble, spreading the mask across his cheeks, ignoring his murmured whines about how cold it feels on his skin. “You weren’t acting like this last time.”
“You were using a different face mask last time,” he rebuts. “I liked the other one better than this one.”
“Well, I’ll keep that in mind the next time I go to the store,” you hum. “Maybe I’ll even take you with me, so you can choose the face mask. It’ll save me from your complaining in the future.”
“You love my complaining,” he replies quickly. “But I really should. I’d make your grocery trips so much more fun.”
“You’d get us kick out.”
“Would not!” Atsumu scoffs when you don’t even bother to hide your unconvinced mien and places his hands on either side of the marble countertop, trapping you against him and the sink. “I’ll prove it this weekend.”
You shake your head. “I’m not going this weekend. The fall festival is on Saturday, remember? I’m holding off spending money this week so I can buy a ton of cotton candy without feeling guilty.”
“Really?” he snorts. “You’re not gonna get wasted this year?”
“Definitely not. Last year was a nightmare.”
“You don’t even remember what happened.”
“Exactly,” you say, smoothing out the mask. “And you’re always taking care of me when I’m drunk, it makes me feel bad.”
Despite his proximity, you don’t seem to feel the intensity of his stare. His demeanour has softened in the past five minutes, smiling warmly at the pinch between your brows and the way your lips have twisted into a focussed frown.
This has happened countless times before — on all the other self-care nights, Atsumu finds himself in the four walls of your bathroom, free to admire you all he wants without the company of his friends and their teasing remarks. Though he’d never admit it, he prefers the quiet, because here, the both of you aren’t brushing off comments made about your relationship; here, it’s just you and him, pressed against the bathroom sink, worries left behind on the other side of the door.
Here, it’s so peaceful that Atsumu believes, for a few short moments, that everything will be okay.
“Don’t feel bad,” he says breathily, dreading the moment when you finish and he’s forced to pull away. “I like taking care of you.”
“You’re required to do it because we’re friends.”
“No, I like doing it,” he says again, ingraining the statement into your brain so it’ll stay there forever. “You don’t see me letting Bokuto or Hinata — hell, even Suna, stay over at my apartment and sleep in my bed.”
You pause your movements, eyes flickering to his. “What does that make me then?”
“Huh?”
“Bokuto, Hinata, and Suna are your friends, but you don’t pick them up from parties and let them say the night at your place.”
“Well, that’s cause I can’t be bothered most of the time, since they’re usually going to on-campus parties and my place is so far from—”
“But you picked me up a few nights ago,” you interrupt, and Atsumu is drawn to the determination in your irises more than he wants to admit. “And a couple weeks ago too, I think. You’ve been picking me up before I even moved in with Sakusa, and my old place was thirty minutes away.”
“What are you saying, Y/N?”
“What am I to you, Atsumu?”
He grips the countertop so tightly his knuckles are as white as the marble. His heart drums against his ribcage, so loud in the cavity of his chest that he wonders if you can hear it too.
“You’re my friend.”
“Like Bokuto? Or Hinata, or Su—?”
“No, of course not,” he scoffs. Comparing yourself to them is absurd. “It’s diff— you’re different.”
“Different how?”
Suddenly, everything feels stuffy. Tension floods the room until he’s neck-deep in it and drowning, all while you stare up at him, awaiting an answer.
“I—”
Someone knocks loudly on the door.
“Hey!” Bokuto. “Is someone in here?”
You don’t answer. The ball is in Atsumu’s court.
There’s an answer that lingers in his mind, one that he wants to give you despite the risk that it could destroy everything he’s ever known. But as his hesitation grows, the ring buoy that is Bokuto’s voice becomes more tempting — something to save him from this situation where he’s flailing in hope and what-ifs. Something to save him from your want and his dread and all the other sharp objects that could slice your friendship in two.
(Aren’t you the one who’s always saying he should be more responsible?
Doing this is the most responsible thing he could do, isn’t it?)
“We’ll be right out,” he responds, and just as he replies, you pull away from him in defeat.
Everything in his body tightens.
You turn to wash your hands. Through the mirror, he can see you blink rapidly and clench your jaw.
When he finally goes to exit, Bokuto stands impatiently on the other side. His eyebrows rise when he spots the hairband keeping Atsumu’s blond strands out of his face.
“That’s cute,” Bokuto coos, poking at the heart that sticks out from the material.
“Thanks,” Atsumu says, adjusting the band and letting his fingers brush against the plush heart. “It’s Y/N’s.”
The sun had set a long time ago.
In its absence is the moon, its light barely sufficient to lead you and Atsumu home — home being his apartment, but you���ve been there so much it might as well be your own. It’s alright, though, he thinks; your arm is interlinked with his, and that’s all he’ll ever need to guide him.
Your hips bump his as you both walk down the sidewalk, the air a melody of your laughs as he retells a childhood story about him and Osamu. You fail to refrain the teasing comments that fall from your lips about how he’s always been a troublemaker, long before you ever met him.
“You’re supposed to be on my side,” he’d said a couple minutes ago. “Since I’m your favourite and everything.”
You smile, and every time you do so, the more he believes that the bathroom incident has been forgotten.
But Atsumu’s not stupid. He senses your discomfort — it’s miniscule, but it’s there, and deep down he knows it’s all because of what happened last night.
Every Tuesday, you wait for his evening lecture to finish before you both walk back to his place to watch a movie. Some nights you leave before the clock strikes ten, most nights you stay over. It’s a routine that’s been implemented since he first met you, and never once has it ever felt tense.
Atsumu itches to fix it.
“Hey,” he pipes up, hoping to avoid any uncomfortable lulls in conversation. “You never told me how your date went.”
“My date?”
“Yeah. Bokuto says some guy from your Psychology class asked you out.”
“What?”
“At the party.”
You crinkle your nose in thought before a light bulb goes off in your head. “Are you talking about Kuroo?”
Atsumu’s eyes may as well bulge out of the sockets with how much they’ve widened. “Kuroo asked you out?”
“No,” you say quickly. “Well, yes. But he didn’t mean it. He only did it to get someone to stop bothering him.”
Atsumu frowns. “Then why did Bokuto say—?”
“Bokuto was drunk,” you snicker. “Plus, you know how much of a lightweight he is, and Hinata just kept on giving him drinks, so you can imagine how that went.”
“Not good, probably.”
“Nope,” you say. “Just imagine everything that could’ve gone wrong then double it.”
“Did he puke on Akaashi?”
“Yeah, and on Kuroo too.”
“See, that’s why I never let him stay the night.”
Your smile wavers and he pinches himself for saying anything in the first place.
“That’s probably the only good idea you’ve ever had,” you eventually say, but your voice is weaker than you intend it to be.
Atsumu can’t find the energy to argue.
He allows himself to be pulled down the street, your footsteps hasty compared to how he tries to drag his feet along the cement. Atsumu assumes you want to get this night over with, to spend only an hour — maybe two — with him before bidding goodbye, and the thought causes an ugly feeling to root itself into the pit of his stomach.
The wind whistles in warning. He should’ve expected something like this.
All good things come to an end is something he’s heard far too many times to count, but Atsumu is nothing if not an optimist, and even so, he never thought a saying such as that could ever apply to his friendship with you. Despite the hardships, the two of you have always pulled through.
But the clouds begin to drift over the moon, hindering its light, and his stomach churns at what’s to come.
Your voice, disguised as a remedy to soothe his unease, carries him forward. “Listen, I think I’ll head home after the movie.”
He blinks. “What?”
“I just want to sleep in my own bed tonight, y’know?”
“You can sleep in mine,” he suggests, his tone bordering on a plea. You always sleep in mine. “I can sleep on the couch.”
“It’s okay, Tsumu,” you reply. “You’re probably tired of seeing me all the time, anyway.”
“I’m not,” he insists.
You give him a tight smile in response.
Atsumu’s always believed he was good with words. His voice has failed him before, sure, and it’s not like it’s a secret that sometimes his carelessness lands him in undesirable situations, but he’s usually so quick on his feet. He knows what to say, and if he doesn’t, he can crank up the charm until everyone in the vicinity begins to suffocate on his charisma.
Miya Atsumu is rarely ever speechless.
But then you started acting different, and suddenly he couldn’t decipher your expressions or predict your every move. You would dance with him in the kitchen and tenderly apply skincare products on his face, but no matter how much he pulled you close, you would drift further away. You’d open up before brushing everything off as if he had nothing to worry about.
It's like you haven’t been paying attention at all. If it involved you, Atsumu would always worry.
The question slips out of his mouth too quickly for him to control. “Are you ever gonna tell me what’s wrong?”
“What?”
He stops walking, and as a result, so do you. “Something’s been bothering you,” he says hoarsely. “And I was waiting it out because I thought you’d tell me, but… I feel like you never will.”
You lick your lips — to stall, he thinks, but doing so only spares you a second. “Do you have any guesses?”
“Huh?”
“You’re not an idiot,” you sigh. “You must have some idea.”
(And, perhaps, maybe a small part of him does. You’re his best friend, and he is yours, and you each earned that title by knowing the other like the moon knows the stars, like the stars know the sky, like the sky knows the sun.
He knows, you know he does. But this is irresponsible. It threatens everything).
“I don’t,” he lies.
“Atsumu,” you exhale, as if he’s entangled in your system, “do you really need me to say it?”
He doesn’t answer. You continue, anyway.
Three words are whispered into the dead of night, and the world tilts on its axis.
This was never part of the routine.
“Maybe I should just go home,” you murmur when he doesn’t speak. His fingers twitch, screaming at him to reach out for you as soon as you pull away. “I’ll see you when I see you.”
“Y/N—”
“Just let me go,” you say — you beg. “Please.”
His body screams, his nerves flare, but the messenger between his spinal cord and his brain fails to relay the message that he should do everything in his power to prevent you from leaving.
“Okay,” he responds. His voice sounds like it hasn’t been in use for years, tainted with defeat.
You turn to leave, and for the first time since you’ve met him, Atsumu doesn’t follow.
Atsumu’s moody, he has been for a while, and it doesn’t take long for everyone to realize it’s because of you.
Or, more specifically, the absence of you.
You’ve been spending more time by yourself than you have been with anyone else, cooped up in the safety of your bedroom and listening to — according to Sakusa — music that ranges from soft, heartbroken ballads, to hardcore fuck-you anthems. The lack of your presence is strange; you’ve always been a constant in Atsumu’s life, and to live without it leaves a lingering emptiness in his chest.
He'll catch glimpses of you sometimes on campus, and he feels, what he assumes to be, the same emotion people feel when they claim they’ve spotted Bigfoot.
For a moment, everything feels a little more bearable.
But then you disappear, leaving sorrow in your wake, and reality washes over him like an ice-cold bucket of water.
His moping is how he ends up tagging along with Bokuto and Hinata at the fall festival, trailing after them like an upset puppy while they frolic down the streets, gawking at all the stands and taste-testing every snack they come across. The plan was to have them cheer him up, to make him smile even if it’s only for a second, because when Atsumu is upset, it becomes everyone else’s problem.
Hinata offers him some funnel cake and Atsumu absentmindedly murmurs about how it’s your favourite. They all buy friendship bracelets and Atsumu buys one for you too because he knows how much you’d want one. They all clamber onto the carousel and Atsumu wonders if you’d fall off if you rode the horse.
Bokuto and Hinata get tired of it all eventually.
“He’s hopeless,” Bokuto cries when they reunite with Suna and Osamu. “He won’t stop whining.”
Atsumu opts for standing on his toes to look over the crowd in hopes of finding you instead of replying to his friend. His eyes drift first to the ring toss, then to the man selling cotton candy, then to the spinning teacups.
Nothing.
Osamu says something that finally catches his brother’s attention. “Well, Y/N’s not coming,” he waves his phone in the air, which is open on his message thread with you. “Said they were busy.”
Hinata huffs. “They’re only saying that cause Tsumu’s here.”
Bokuto slaps his arm. “Shoyo!”
“What? It’s true!” he exclaims defensively. “You know how they’re always on top of their assignments, I doubt they’re doing anything but watching TV and—”
“Yeah, but still, don’t say that! Isn’t Tsum-Tsum heartbroken enough?”
“I am not heartbroken,” Atsumu snarls.
Suna gives him a look. “Well…”
“I’m not!” he flails, frantically gesturing to himself to show that he’s perfectly fine. “I mean, yeah, am I a little upset? Yes. But heartbroken? You guys are just saying anything at this point, like—”
Osamu interrupts him before he can continue rambling and digging himself into a bigger hole. “What did you even do, anyway?”
The Miya twins are notorious on campus for their bickering, but Atsumu thought that in this situation, at least his own brother would be on his side. “What makes you think this is all my fault?”
Osamu raises an eyebrow, mocking and patronizing. “Well, for one—”
“If anything,” Atsumu continues, hurriedly cutting him off, “I should be the one avoiding them. Not that I’d want to, I’d never want to, obviously, but if we were getting technical then they should be the one worrying about me and not the other way around.”
Hinata speaks, mouth full of the last of his funnel cake. “Who says they don’t worry about you?”
“I— wait, what?”
“They’re always asking me and Shoyo about how you’re doing,” Bokuto chirps. “How screwed up could things be that you won’t talk to each other?”
Atsumu inhales, and he feels the world begin to collapse into him. Unsure of what to say, unsure of what to think, unsure if it’s fair of him to reach for his phone and hope you’ll answer his calls. He knows why the two of you have found yourselves here, standing on opposite sides of a field of regret and hurt. He knows, that in his attempt to dodge change, he blew something up in the process.
Suna tilts his head in question. “Atsumu. What happened?”
Atsumu exhales. “They told me that—” the words lodge themselves in his throat, unwilling to leave.
But they all understand.
“Huh,” Suna hums. “Didn’t think they had it in them.”
“What did you reply with?” Osamu asks.
Atsumu prepares himself for their rage. “Nothing.”
He’s met with silence. Then, incredulously, Suna asks, “Are you stupid?”
Osamu answers for him. “Chronically so.”
Atsumu doesn’t have the heart to respond to the jab, and the severity of the situation significantly increases.
Hinata bites the inside of his cheek in thought. “I think he’s broken.”
Bokuto leans forward to study Atsumu’s expression as much as he can before the latter waves him off. With a frown, Bokuto steps back and looks around the grounds, hoping to find something that’ll cheer Atsumu up and make tonight not a complete bust.
A tent, flashy and sparkly and enchanting, lures him in.
Osamu looks like he’s about to say something, but before he can utter a word, Bokuto tugs on Atsumu’s sleeve and drags him to the tent, ignoring his protests. “I have an idea,” he says reassuringly, but it does nothing to calm his friend. “Trust me on this.”
Atsumu snatches his arm back and rubs it as if Bokuto’s harmed him. He cranes his neck around to look at the sign just outside the tent, and scowls at the pink and yellow doodles on the chalkboard.
“This is a psychic.”
Bokuto nods vigorously. “Yes.”
“Your idea of cheering me up is having me scammed?”
Bokuto pouts. “You love stuff like this.”
He’s not wrong. If it were any other day, this place would be Atsumu’s first stop. He’d be the one begging people to join him despite the fact that he knows the consequences involve a dent in his bank account, but today, predictions of his future are the last thing on his mind. Today, convincing people to get their fortune read is the least of his desires, because you aren’t trying to convince people with him.
There’s no point being here without you.
Atsumu moves to get out of line.
“Hey, dude,” Bokuto whines and holds onto his arm to keep him in place. “Just give it a try. It can’t hurt, can it?”
“Boku—”
“It’ll be fun!” he says cheerily. “Maybe it’ll give you some insight on how to apologize to Y/N.”
Atsumu wants nothing more than to move — to leave — but Bokuto mastered the art of the puppy dog eyes long before he could talk, and the moment he flashes them Atsumu realizes he has no other choice but to stay.
When he steps into the tent, the atmosphere changes.
He tugs on the sleeves of his windbreaker when the autumn air threatens to pierce his skin, and reluctantly sits down on the chair across from the psychic. She eyes his every move, trying to figure out what type of customer he might be — someone who’s just doing this for fun, or someone who’s going through a rough patch, or someone who needs a stranger to light the path they need to walk down.
Atsumu fidgets in his seat.
“You’re here for a reading?”
A shrug and feigned indifference are what she receives as an answer. “Sure.”
His mask of nonchalance begins to slip when the reading starts, growing restless as he checks the time on his watch and calculating the probability of you still being awake. He glances over his shoulder, praying to whichever deity who’ll listen that Bokuto will come in and drag him out once he’s realized that this is the last thing Atsumu wants.
You are not here, and his body stings whenever the reminder worms its way into his mind.
His uneasiness must amuse the psychic, because when he finally looks back at her, she’s grinning, knotting his stomach in worry.
She asks him a dreadful question, made of nuts and bolts and things that rub salt in the wound of his heart.
What is it that you desire most, boy?
Atsumu freezes, plastering a confused smile on his face. “I’m sorry?”
“I’m sure you know. Is it strength?”
Definitely not, Atsumu wants to say. He’s more than capable enough to lift heavy boxes, he doesn’t have to take multiple trips to move things from point A to point B, he doesn’t struggle carrying his friends’ slump and inebriated bodies into a bed.
Atsumu is strong. He’s proved it during his frequent trips to the gym and by winning arm-wrestling contests. He wears the trait like a badge of honour, a reminder.
He does not need any more physical strength.
He checks his watch and wonders if you’ve brushed your teeth and dragged yourself to bed.
The psychic pushes. “Power?”
Atsumu briefly shakes his head, a movement so miniscule it’s a surprise the woman catches it.
It used to be such a thrill, the popularity that came with his volleyball reign. He used to ride that horse and sit in that throne with pride, he let the excitement course through him and, for a while, let himself believe the squeals that came with victory was interchangeable with love.
But power does not compare. He was foolish to believe nothing could beat the rush that came with the admiration — the shouts of his name in the bleachers, the ever-growing follower count, the people confessing their infatuation whenever they caught him alone.
They do not know who he is underneath the volleyball uniform. They don’t know that he likes to go to the diner after games and order a strawberry milkshake, or that his bottom drawer is filled to the brim with spare clothes for you, or that his favourite nights are spent with you applying a face mask to his skin.
They will never know him as much as you do.
The psychic leans forward. “Love?”
Atsumu clenches his jaw. Yes, would be the short answer, but to say that without an explanation would mean to lie, and he’s never been a good liar. Because Atsumu’s always been loved — not by the crowds or the student body — but by his friends, his family, you.
You gave your heart to him, and he noticed too late that the bleeding organ resided in the palm of his hand, cracked and yearning and brave. And after he realized this, he selfishly craved for more, even though he knew it scared him. He has been in relationships before, but none of them crossed the threshold of what truly mattered — the intimate conversations, the dances in the kitchen at midnight, the confessions murmured under the duvet.
So, perhaps, yes, Atsumu desires love, but the one thing he supposes he wants more is courage.
The psychic smiles. “Ah. Bingo. So—”
“Miya.”
Atsumu whips his head around to find Sakusa standing at the entrance, skillfully ignoring the protests behind him to get in line and wait his turn. Sakusa raises an eyebrow at the situation Atsumu’s found himself in, but saves him from his judgement to state, “Bokuto told me you were in here.”
“Excuse me,” the woman chirps. “We’re in the middle of something.”
“If you think a scam is what’ll solve your problems, then you’re stupider than I thought,” Sakusa says.
Atsumu sighs. “You came here just to tell me that?”
“Well, yeah,” Sakusa shrugs. “There’s a simpler solution to all of this.”
“Okay, well—”
“Talk to them,” Sakusa interrupts, exhausted. “Before they give up.”
Atsumu kisses his teeth, changing his position in his chair so he’s fully facing Sakusa. “Since when were you the type to give advice?”
Sakusa ignores his retort with a shake of his head and a roll of his eyes.
“I have never seen you cower before, Miya,” Sakusa says, and the words are like needles on his skin. “Don’t let the first time you do so be now.”
Atsumu inhales shakily. “I don’t—”
“They got Hinge a few days ago,” Sakusa deadpans. Atsumu stiffens. “Don’t lose to some hack they found on a dating app.”
Atsumu looks from his friend to the clairvoyant before flashing her a sheepish smile and shooting clumsily out of his chair. The words that tumble from his mouth are barely coherent, and the last thing he hears before he exits the tent is Sakusa mumbling moron under his breath.
The journey from the festival to your apartment is a blur. He vaguely recalls running past his friends and returning their questioning shouts with a wave of his hand and getting angry at least two cars who cut him on the road, before he ends up in front of your door, nose tinged red from the cold.
His knocks are insistent.
“I’m coming, God, be patient,” he hears you say before you open the door to see him, and your annoyance is wiped away in seconds.
“Hi,” he says, out of breath from running up three flights of stairs after he got impatient waiting for the elevator. His eyes land on the blanket you’ve wrapped over your shoulders, and his lips quirk up at the familiar pattern. “Didn’t I get you that?”
You tug on the material defensively. “What are you doing here?” you ask. “And what the hell are you wearing? Did you not look at the weather before you left the house? It’s freezing outside, you idiot, you should be wearing a thicker jacket. And your face is so red! And your hands! They’re gonna get all dry if you don’t wear gloves! How many times do I have to tell you to dress for the weather otherwise you’ll get sick and…”
Atsumu rasps, “And?”
You gulp, taking a step back to distance yourself. “And you shouldn’t be here,” you say, sending a knife to his chest. “I thought you were at the festival.”
“That’s why you didn’t come,” he concludes. “Because I was there.”
“Well, what do you expect me to do?” you snap. “I told you I loved you and you looked at me like I was crazy.”
“I didn’t.”
“Whatever,” you bark. “My point still stands. You shouldn’t be here.”
He nods. “I know.”
“Then why are you?”
Eight letters are whispered into the darkness of the entryway, and the world is thrown off-balance.
“I love you,” he says, surprising himself with just how easy the words escape after he lets them, “and I’m so, so sorry.”
Your lips part in surprise. “What?”
“I love you,” he repeats. “And I should’ve told you sooner, but I— I was scared—”
“Then why are you telling me now?”
“I don’t know,” he whispers. “Love conquers all, I guess. My fear included.”
“You came all the way here to tell me that?”
He risks a step towards you and his heart flutters when you don’t move away. “I ran out of a psychic’s tent, too.”
“What?”
“I’ll tell you later,” he murmurs. “That’s not important right now.”
“It sounds pretty important, I mean, you mentioned it and everything.”
“It’s not.”
“What exactly is more important than that?”
“Your forgiveness, actually.”
You huff. “Believe it or not, forgiveness doesn’t come so easily, Atsumu.”
“Can I kiss you, then?” he questions innocently, placing a hand against your cheek. “Will you take that as an apology?”
You still, licking your lips as you try to maintain your defiant stance. “…That won’t work every time you make me mad, you know.”
He tries his best not to smirk. “Is that a yes?”
“I hate you.”
He lets his lips hover over yours, and he’s not sure if the loud heartbeat ringing in his ears is his or yours (or maybe a mixture of both). “Is that yes?” he asks again, searching your eyes for any signs of discomfort.
Your eyes flicker to his mouth and then you mumble, “Yes.”
Atsumu pinches himself before capturing his lips with yours, eager and desperate, to kiss you with enough pent-up want and need to cause you to stumble. He’s gentle in the way he cradles your face, as if the world has found itself in his hands, still beautiful despite how much he’s hurt it.
He’ll make up for hurting you later, but for now he’ll allow himself to be selfish.
I love you, he whispers into your mouth, and you capture the confession with your own and let it live in your beating heart.
I love you, he whispers into your neck as you both stumble into the kitchen, making sure to tattoo the words into your skin so you’ll never forget.
“I love you,” he whispers one last time as the blanket covers you both and he’s sure you’ve lulled to sleep with your ear against his chest and his thumb drawing hearts on your shoulder, “so, so much.”
Slumber takes over you both, blanketing your smiling figures with hope and love.
© fushisagi, 2023. do not translate or plagiarize my works.
#atsumu#miya atsumu#hq#haikyuu#atsumu x reader#miya atsumu x reader#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#atsumu fluff#miya atsumu fluff#haikyuu fluff#hq fluff#atsumu angst#miya atsumu angst#haikyuu angst#hq angst#fic: miya atsumu and the chronic lovesick disease
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HAIKYUU CHARACTERS AND HOW THEY BREAK YOUR HEART
ft. oikawa; sugawara; atsumu; ushijima; kita
OIKAWA TOORU: makes time for everyone but you
you tried to ignore the sting in your heart, tossing your phone on the mattress. at this point you were setting yourself up for the hurt and yet you couldn’t stop yourself from watching his stories. and he was always out and about, meeting various people — friends, colleagues, family, coworkers, anybody. just not you. you were always left behind, barely seeing your boyfriend, only getting a few texts. you knew he had a lot on his plate but would it kill him to spend some time with you, or just acknowledge your existence? you sighed. surely he was just busy, right?
SUGAWARA KOUSHI: forgets about his promises
“i’m so sorry,” he immediately said as soon as he saw you all dressed up, “i forgot” you pressed your lips into a thin line, nodding slowly. “i figured. i’m going to take a shower” before he could say anything you rushed past your boyfriend, shutting the bathroom door behind you before stepping to the sink, washing your flushed face as the tears started to fall. you shouldn’t even be surprised — and honestly you weren’t really — but you were disappointed. he didn’t mean to forget, at least that’s what you had been telling yourself. but there was only so much you could take and slowly but surely you reached your breaking point.
MIYA ATSUMU: always puts his work before you
you shook your head as you put your phone away, politely asking the waiter for your check. by now you were basically used to the pitiful glances and hushed whispers behind your back, so you skillfully ignored them when leaving the restaurant. with every step you took towards your car, you could feel the cold creeping up on you as your heart grew heavier and heavier. you knew what you were getting yourself into when you decided to get together with him, but it didn’t hurt any less when he stood you up — when practice ran longer than expected, when he decided to get some extra training or when he was too exhausted to even send you a message.
USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI: always confuses you with somebody else
“i got you your favorite” he held up a take out bag with a warm smile on his face. “thank you,” you said with your most convincing smile on your face, which immediately dropped as soon as he left your field of view. as soon as you recognized the logo on the plastic you felt your heart ache. you wanted to give him credit, he was trying, he really was, but you couldn’t help but feel hurt — whatever he got, it was never what he thought it was. his friend’s favorite snacks that you didn’t like, his best friend’s favorite movie that brought back bad memories or his ex partner’s favorite food.
KITA SHINSUKE: uses your insecurities against you
with hurt visible in your eyes, you turned around, quickly making your way into your bedroom. “you can’t just simply walk away when things aren’t going your way—,” you heard him shout behind you before you slammed the door and as soon as you were alone, the tears began to fall. you loved him and you were convinced that he loved you too. he even told you so daily and made you feel like the most important person in your life. and he failed to realize that you weren’t him — he couldn’t see how his bluntness hurt you or how his supposed honesty only broke you. how much more could you take before you completely shattered?
reblogs are appreciated
#₊❏❜ ⋮haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu x you#haikyuu imagines#hq x reader#haikyu x reader#haikyuu angst#hq angst#hq x you#oikawa x reader#sugawara x reader#atsumu x reader#ushijima x reader#kita x reader#oikawa angst#sugawara angst#atsumu angst#ushijima angst#kita angst#hq headcanons#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu imagine#hq scenarios#haikyuu!!#haikyuu
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CLEAN ME UP
c/w: established relationship, hurt/comfort, light mentions of blood and injury, atsumu lowkey gets his ass beat </3 but he is so sweet
Atsumu sits crisscrossed on the floor of your bathroom with a tender black eye and a busted lip—and though this should be a rare thing, you need all five fingers to count the number of times you’ve seen this film before.
The first two were ages ago, high school days when he and Osamu couldn’t stop themselves from throwing a punch or two over nothing at all. Their egos too big and brains too small, twice you'd gotten roped into their post-brawl aftercare. Another time it was a fight off the court, when a rival captain made a snide remark about his foul accent. The fourth, a drunken, immature mistake.
Tonight’s wounds are different. Because when Atsumu nonchalantly shows up black and blue at your door, he doesn’t tell you what happened. There’s no story attached to the bruises he bares, no lengthy explanations or excuses. And Atsumu is a lot of things, but speechless is never one of them.
He looks childish, you think, the way his broad body folds itself into a tiny pretzel and hardly takes up a corner of your tiled floor. He’s oddly quiet, too. Sure, you heard his witty comments down the hallway about how you should see the other guy, but something’s still off. His eyes aren't lit with their usual flame of youth, pride.
Only a few words are exchanged through the process of cleaning him up. Between wet washcloths and tiny sniffles, Atsumu fumes, You haven't asked enough questions yet, and it’s beginning to freak him out. He doesn't know whether or not he should be grateful or unsettled with your silence.
A frozen bag of vegetables presses against his left eyelid when you finally ask, "What the hell did you do this time?"
Atsumu smiles at the mere sound of your voice, an instant warmth against the burning ice on his body. "Why's it always my fault?"
You remove the bag from his brow to shoot him a look, that look. He knows better than to argue with that look. Arguing with that look gets him nothing but trouble and an achy back from a night on the couch. So, he diverts.
"Nothing,” he sulks. “He started it, and—"
"—And you finished it, right?"
Your words are meant to be sarcastic, at his dispense of how stupid he behaved, but Atsumu doesn't take them as such. Instead, at your interruption, he shoots you an earnest smile filled with satisfaction and dried blood stretched across his chapped lips.
"See? So smart, baby."
His hand rises to pet your chin but you lean back quick enough to dodge his caress. His eyes fall to the bag of vegetables that now sits by your lap.
“Atsumu,” you try again, foreboding.
He rolls his head back in a huff against the bench of the bathtub, and the ceramic feels warm against his neck compared to the still stinging chill on his eye.
“What was I supposed to do? They were bein’ assholes.”
His whole team had gone out drinking tonight for a celebratory round or five, followed by a few days off. And as charming as Atsumu is, he does have his foes. People in the volleyball world he’s not the biggest fan of, for reasons he doesn’t seem to discuss with you. He likes to leave it at his good intuition, something you know he lacks.
With the context clues provided, you can think of two or three people he’s implying.
His reasoning is flawed, to say the least, but the way he says it has your heart breaking in the slightest. He avoids eye contact, as if he's embarrassed, dancing around the subject and wishing the ground to swallow him whole.
His shyness has you trying a softer approach.
“Everyone is an asshole,” you whisper, lightly returning pressure to his eye with the makeshift ice, “if punching assholes was reasonable, I’d do it all the time.”
Atsumu smiles a bit at that, but you catch how he winces slightly at the movement.
“Yer so funny, baby,” he tries to trail off. “Funniest person I—”
“Miya,” comes his second warning, and by the look in your eye, he’s not brave enough to try for a third.
“Fine,” he grumbles, “but when yer a Miya, I’m playing that card on you, too. Y’know that, right?”
You nod, and whether it's to his proposal or to encourage his words, you don't know. But it works, because Atsumu takes a deep breath and stares at the ceiling again.
“This time was different, okay?”
His tone is eerily soft. One only you get the privilege of hearing, and not because it's out of love, but because it's out of hate. Something’s shaken him so bad, he’s almost been rendered speechless.
“How was it different?”
“They were talking about you,” he shakily exhales. “Sayin’ stupid shit that isn’t true.”
Your heart softens as you do your best to keep a strong facade, but maybe Atsumu does have good intuition, as his hand squeezes yours through the quick moment of silence.
“If it’s not true, then it shouldn't have mattered, right?” you try.
“No,” he’s quick to work himself up again, eyes finding yours. “Like hell was I gonna let ‘em keep talking about you like that, ‘specially when I’m right fuckin’ there.”
Your fingers lightly skim his jaw, nowhere sensitive but he jumps all the same. You apply pressure to tilt his head, forcing him to find your gaze. He does.
“Do you want to tell me what they said?”
Atsumu gaze softens, and after a moment of thinking, he shakes his head.
“No,” he decides, “I don’t.”
His eyes fall to your lips and back up to your eyes. “Do you want to know?”
You smile at his sincerity. Atsumu, who you know to be just as sweet as he is boisterous, would tell you if you asked. He’d do anything you ask. But, you decide against it.
“No. No, I don’t.”
Atsumu exhales a breath he didn't realize he was holding as he lets his head nuzzle against your palm. Contrary to the ice, it's warm and soft on his skin. He thinks it could heal wounds faster than any bag of broccoli ever could.
“I trust you,” he hears you coo into his hairline, kisses now dancing along his forehead and jaw, “even if you do have the emotional intelligence of a middle school boy, sometimes.”
Astumu hmphs at your words, simultaneously agreeing and brushing you off. He doesn't care enough to bicker, right now. He doesn’t need to tell you about how the man from the bar was talking about you. About how easy you’d be to persuade into bed. About how you're just with Atsumu for his flashy perks and award winning smile.
He doesn't need to because he knows they're wrong. Because they don't see these moments, when Atsumu sits on the ledge of your empty bathtub. With popped blood vessels and tender welts, those men don't melt beneath your careful fingertips or soothing pecks.
He doesn't have to say anything, because you trust him. You trust Atsumu, and it's the one thing in this world he knows to be true.
He lifts his head up from your hold to find your lips.
“I jus’ love you,” he insists, lightly pressing himself to you with such caution, “so much.”
And if there’s one thing in this world you know to be true, it's that Miya Atsumu loves you.
#atsumu x reader#miya atsumu x reader#atsumu x you#miya atsumu x you#atsumu angst#atsumu fluff#miya atsumu fluff#miya astumu angst#atsumu fic#miya atsumu fic#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#haikyuu atsumu
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𖦹°｡⋆ haikyuu boys as my breakup playlist
⟡ featuring: suna, oikawa, tsukishima, atsumu
⟡ cw: angst, idk still bad at these
⟡ an: i found my old breakup playlist from three years ago and took inspiration from that so these songs are old lol. writing this was silly because im in a loving relationship but it was like i felt all the pain of a breakup again </3
⟡ part two, part three
⟡ suna rintarou: you broke me first - tate mcrae
suna would be the one to break things off with you. when you first started dating he genuinely thought he loved you but as time went on and he became more distant, you started to feel like he was losing feelings for you so you asked him about it. in his words, "i think you were just the first girl to give me attention after my last relationship" and "im not ready for a relationship". a week later, he starts talking about all the girls that have come to him after the breakup and started talking about his hookups to you. this bothered you and hurt you deeply so you decided to cut things off with him completely and he was not a fan of this. so he tried everything to try to get you to talk to him again saying that he misses you and that he wants to get back together. you couldn't care less though, he's already broken your heart too many times for you not to notice his pattern of wanting your attention just to make you jealous or upset. in the end, it actually did end up hurting him and made him realize what he lost. he knew he fucked up but there's no going back anymore.
⟡ oikawa tooru: over breakfast - ellise
it's been a few months since oikawa left for argentina. it's been hard for the both of to be apart for so long and in completely different timezones. you could feel the connection fading but neither of you wanted to admit it because you both loved each other so much. but the longer you guys try to keep the relationship afloat, the more frequent you end up arguing over text or facetime. but you both decided that it could be something to figure out when oikawa visits for the holidays. well, the holidays come around and you finally have time to see each other and talk in person. from the moment oikawa entered your apartment, you both knew it was over. you could tell so many things have changed over the course of the last few months but instead of facing it, you just decide to spend one more night together just to have one final time to say that you tried. it was bittersweet and it hurt a lot but you didn't want the night to end. maybe you could fix this over night? in the morning everything will be better and you can set aside your differences! unfortunately, that morning, nothing had changed and you and oikawa finally came to terms with the fact that maybe you two just maybe weren't meant to be.
⟡ tsukishima kei: high definition - waterparks
when tsukishima was still part of the sendai frogs, he traveled a lot. it's not like he was off in another country like some of his old teammates and rivals, no, you lived with him. even though you two had been dating for quite some time by this point, tsukishima still had trouble expressing his love for you. he tended to push you away whenever he was stressed even though the one thing he wanted the most was your comfort and loving. he was just worried he would end up snapping at you and making you hate him. he didn't know that you'd end up upset with him regardless. you loved him so much but you don't know how long you could going on like this. i mean come on! tsukishima was always away for volleyball matches and even when he's home...it's like he's still not even there. tsukishima knew that you were starting to slip away from him so one day he sat you down and explained how he was feeling and it was finally then that you understood why he acted the way he did. you tried protesting his decision to break up with you but he kept insisting it was for the better. by the next week tsukishima had moved out leaving you alone in the once shared apartment, wishing and hoping he'd come back one day.
⟡ miya atsumu: better off - ariana grande
everyone knew that atsumu could be hot headed most of the time when it came to volleyball but what they didn't know is that it would sometimes affect your relationship with him. much like tsukishima, he would close himself off from you whenever he was mad at the world or whatever else there is that could make him upset. it was starting to get tiring for you. you felt like you had to walk on egg shells around him just so he wouldn't snap at you (wether he meant to or not- his mind would always fog up). towards the end of your relationship, you could feel yourself start to get numb in regards to your feelings towards atsumu. atsumu couldn't really tell at this point that you were losing hope for the relationship. if anything he thought everything was normal but that was only because half of the time he was too much into his own thoughts to notice any flaws between the two of you. it wasn't until he came home one day after an away game on the other side of japan and found that all of your stuff was gone along with you, that he realized nothing is what it used to be. he found a note from you that explained that you weren't happy in the relationship anymore and that you felt trapped. you also stated that you hope he figures out his issues and that you'll always be there for him if he needs but that right now you just needed space. atsumu spent that night crying and angry at himself for letting your relationship get to this point.
#𖦹°｡⋆ 𝓃𝒾𝓃𝒾#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x reader angst#haikyuu angst#suna rintarou x reader#suna rintarou angst#suna x reader#suna angst#oikawa tooru x reader#oikawa x reader#oikawa angst#oikawa tooru angst#tsukishima kei x reader#tsukishima x reader#tsukishima angst#tsukishima kei angst#atsumu miya x reader#atsumu x reader#atsumu miya angst#atsumu angst
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“atsumu, when i die —”
“no, stop, don’t say that. ‘ya aren’t going to die.” he interrupted you before you could even finish, his gaze burning.
“of course i won’t, i’m immortal!” you joked. and to this, he flashed a small smile.
“but, hypothetically, if i do die, i want you to make my coffin look cute. maybe LED lights? yeah, and —” you were cut off with your rambling by a kiss to your lips. the two of you savoring the fleeting moment, gripping onto his shirt as you felt yourself weaken from his touch.
“yes, angel, i’ll do that okay? now stop yappin’ about ‘ya dying. ‘ya aren’t goin’ to die. i — i won’t even let ‘ya.” he said with so much determination that you couldn’t help but believe him.
your eyes feel heavy. “‘tsumu?”
“hm?” he looks at you, shimmering eyes.
“i’m tired, i wanna go to sleep.”
“oh — okay, sure — i, i love ‘ya, goodnight. let’s talk again tomorrow, m’kay?” he asked, the hope in his voice felt quite cruel to even exist.
“of course, i love you.”
the beeping from the monitor went to a deafening halt. atsumu felt like he was suffocating, the air in his lungs evaporating. you — the air that filled his lungs, the air he breathes, ceased. the shimmer in his eyes turned into tears.
you two never really did get to properly talk again tomorrow, or the day after that, or ever again.
#UM … i hate this Kinda idk sorry 🙏#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu angst#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu drabbles#haikyuu x you#miya atsumu#miya atsumu x reader#atsumu x reader#atsumu angst#haikyuu one shot#atsumu drabble#haikyuu!!#hq x you#hq x reader#atsumu x y/n#atsumu x you#tw: angst#tw: death#FUN FACT THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE AKAASHI LOL#haikyuu blurbs#haikyuu headcanons
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[3:00 PM] Miya Atsumu - A/B/O
All I can tell you all is that it's long and dirty... hope you have a wonderful smutty Friday.
Warning: Full of smutty smut... A little different from most A/B/O au
.
Atsumu returned home early from a four-week-long training camp.
He first noticed the unfamiliar pheromone in his shared apartment with Y/n.
Immediately his ears perked, and he could hear moaning and whimpering coming from down the hall.
Sighing, Atsumu contemplated going to Osamu’s place for the night. Now that he recalled, Y/n did remind him that she was going through her rut cycle soon. Normally, they respected each other’s boundaries and spent their ruts at the specialty hotel that was designated for ruts & heats. She had asked if he would be okay if she brought her partner to spend the night at their apartment since he would be out during that time, and he was okay with it.
Before Atsumu could put his shoes back on, he heard a door swing open.
“This is fucken pathetic, screw you!”
Atsumu froze and before he could hide, a half-naked omega stalked past him before stopping to glare at him. “Your roommate is a pathetic alpha!” She shouted before slamming the door after her.
Blinking, Atsumu was shocked at what had just happened.
“She’s just mad I lost my vibe. I didn’t know you were coming home early.”
Turning his head, Atsumu sees Y/n standing only in her robe, leaning against the wall. He could see red blotches along her neck.
He took a step closer to Y/n. “You okay?”
She shrugged and smiled, “don’t worry about it.” She walked over and dropped herself on the couch.
How could he not worry? Atsumu inhaled softly before sitting beside her. He noticed the oddness he had been feeling the last couple of days and couldn’t pinpoint what it was.
He glanced over at Y/n who had her arms crossed over her chest with her eyes closed, almost like she was sleeping.
Y/n was one of the few female hybrids, a special case of an alpha and omega. Hybrids were able to choose between either gender and could breed and be bred.
The setback for most hybrids was that they have a smaller physique than an average omega and due to that, oftentimes time they were looked down on as alpha hybrids. Like both genders, hybrids go through both rut and heat phases and sometimes both could happen at the same time. Hybrids were able to release alpha and omega pheromones yet unable to detect them like betas. They often have to carry with them a pheromone neutralizer to prevent unwanted attention.
Eventually, most hybrids will adopt the more dominant gender. The high percentage of hybrids become omegas due to the challenges of being an alpha.
But Y/n had no problem attracting both alphas and omegas.
Atsumu himself was physically and sexually attracted to her until he discovered that her preference was omegas.
He would take it to his grave that he had imagined how it would be to have Y/n below him, how she would take him…
But they were friends, roommates for three years.
However, things changed two weeks ago when the two of them were casually having a beer in their living room after a long work day.
“Hey,” Atsumu started, staring at Y/n sip on her fourth beer. She was one of the few ladies he knew who enjoyed a good beer and a lot of it. “Wanna play Truth or Dare?”
He could see she was thinking about it before she smirked and answered, “sure.”
Being the gentleman he is, he allowed her to go first.
“Truth or dare, ‘Tsumu?”
He felt a sense of nervousness for some reason and decided to play it safe and chose truth.
“Why are you so uptight?”
Atsumu frowned before letting out a laugh, that was her question? “Honestly, I haven’t had sex in three months. That’s the longest I’ve ever gone without sex since losing my virginity.”
Y/n’s face distorted humorously and she tried hard not to laugh, “okay, your turn.”
“Truth or dare, Y/n?”
“Truth,” she answered.
Atsumu smirked, wondering if she was playing it safe. “Which one do you like more, being top or bottom?” This was one question he had been dying to know the answer to.
Y/n consistently projected an aura of composure and ease, effortlessly connecting with everyone she encountered. It came as no shock that alphas and omegas alike gravitated toward her; there was an undeniable allure about her that drew them in.
She wasn’t surprised at his question at all. “My answer would be top because I’ve never been a bottom before.”
His eyes bulged out in disbelief. “I don’t believe you, you have never…” Atsumu’s voice trailed off as he tried to connect the dots in his head. “But you’re a… hybrid…” his tone was filled with nothing but confusion. “Don’t you get heats?”
Y/n shook her head, gulping her beer. “No, I have never gotten through a heat before. I know, it’s odd. My doctor doesn’t know why either and just continues to tell me to monitor myself.” She shrugs her shoulders, “so, I only know how to top.” She narrows her eyes at him playfully, asking him that nearly makes him choke on his saliva. “Why? You want to do you want to show me how it feels to be a bottom?”
The fun and playful mood Atsumu was in suddenly turned him sober and serious. Was she joking? He swallowed, trying hard not to make it obvious that his cock had gotten excited and was semi-hard.
Their game of Truth or Dare came to an abrupt end before neither had a second round as the fire alarms in their apartment complex went off.
Neither spoke again about that subject and went on with their lives.
Or at least Atsumu tried to.
For days, he couldn’t get the subject out of his head, wondering and questioning how she had managed to go this long without having a heat, let alone that she had never been a bottom before! It had also bothered Atsumu about her question she asked him if he would like to show her, was she serious about it? It made Atsumu excited every time he thought about it.
Atsumu has been wanting to bring the conversation up again and suddenly had the urge to do so.
His mouth opened to speak when something hit his sense of smell, a delicate aroma. Blood began rushing down south and his mouth watered, his mind clouded with nothing but wanting to have a taste of this deliciousness that was taking over his senses.
Realization hit him as this was typically how he becomes when he is being affected by an omega’s heat pheromone.
His eyes narrowed as he looked at Y/n.
“Atsumu.”
He flinched at the way she called his name, not in a threatening way, but in a way that made him want to be nothing but possessive of her. His throat tightened as her pheromone poured more onto him.
“I… think I’m going through my first heat,” Y/n murmurs softly, opening her eyes to peer into his. They were a different color and most definitely very dilated.
He noticed her crossed arms tightening around her petite body. Realization hit him, the faint lingering smell he had detected was Y/n’s omega pheromone, something completely different from her alpha pheromone he was used to. It was no wonder he was not threatened by it because it still had a bit of her scent in it, keeping him calm.
“What?” he growled, trying to maintain his composure and sanity, he wanted to pounce on her. Atsumu stood up and distanced himself from her. “But you said you –“
“I never had one before so I don’t know what to expect but I’m confident… enough that what I’m experiencing right now is my heat.” Y/n hunched over, her shoulders trembling.
The silence in the room was unbearable and she broke it by quietly asking, “would you – be comfortable to help me?” She bit her lower lip before asking, “I’ve – I’ve never been a bottom… show me. Show me what it's like to be a bottom, Atsumu.”
Atsumu’s eyes bulged out, “sh – show you?” He inhaled sharply as he closed his eyes to absorb her request. He paced back and forth in their living room before clarifying, “say that one more time? What are you asking me to do?” He needed a second confirmation.
“Atsumu,” Y/n called his name, it flowed like soft butter from the tip of her tongue. “I’m in heat right now and I want you to show me what it feels like to be a bottom…” she paused, “if that makes you feel uncomfortable I can go ask –“ She was suddenly tugged onto her feet and pressed against his chest. She felt his hardness press against her abdomen and her eyes widened, breath hitching.
“All you need is me,” Atsumu’s eyes suddenly become dark as he stares at her lips. “I will show you how to be a bottom, Y/n.”
.
“You’re breaking my heart here, Y/n,” Atsumu growled softly against her nipple. Three of his long and thick fingers have been thrust back and forth inside her pussy. “Am I doing a shit job that I can’t even make you moan for me?”
Y/n shook her head, her knuckles had turned white from gripping his comforters tightly. She let out a heavy breath, “no – no… it feels…”
“Feels?...”
“Fucken amazing…” she finished, opening her eyes. “I’ve… never felt this bliss before…” her back arched when Atsumu’s fingers curled and fastened.
“Nope,” Atsumu chuckled when she tried to close her legs. “Keep these beautiful legs open, wide open for me.” He shifts his large, toned body to fit in between her legs. He withdrew his fingers to stroke his cock.
Atsumu still couldn’t believe that Y/n has never had a heat before, let alone taken a cock before.
“’Tsumu,” Y/n whimpered, her fingers grazing over her wet pussy, her pussy ached to be stuffed, filled in ways she never imagined before.
Since finding out she is a hybrid at the age of 16, her gender has always been alpha-dominant. She has never experienced a heat since discovering her hybrid gender even though she was capable of adapting to both genders.
Unlike most, Y/n had no problem attracting either gender but she had preferred to be a top giver than a bottom receiver.
It wasn’t until recently, until the game of Truth or Dare with Atsumu that it had piqued her interest. She suddenly was curious about being a bottom but she did not know who she trusted enough to share that moment with. Unconsciously, she began manifesting it.
On numerous occasions, she caught herself staring at Atsumu, and it was then that she began seeing him in a different light. She considered the idea of asking him but was frequently reminded that it would alter their relationship forever.
Her request tonight was her heat speaking. During the few weeks of Atsumu being away, Y/n’s body began experiencing a change she had never felt before. Unlike the times she was going through a rut, her body was burning and throbbing at her pussy.
Y/n has never touched herself in such a way, never having to need to until now. For two nights in a row, she tossed and turned in bed until the temporary relief was her fingers dipping in between her legs and stuffing her pussy in ways she’s done to other omegas.
“Atsumu…” his name slipped from her lips unconsciously. Her eyes widened and embarrassment shamed her for calling out her friend’s name while imagining him, imagining it was his fingers stuffing her pussy.
And now three of his finger pump quickly in and out of her pussy, the mere thought of knowing it’s his fingers that is building up the pleasure is all Atsumu’s doing.
The following day, she snuck into his room and inhaled the scent in his room, filling her desire and yearning.
“Yes,” Y/n moaned, eyes rolling shut, “yes, Atsumu…”
Atsumu shifted onto his knees. “I can’t believe you’ve never taken a cock before. I find that hard to believe,” Atsumu rubbed the tip of his cock against her clit.
Y/n herself can’t believe she hasn’t either. It may be partly because she never had a heat to begin with. Y/n sat up and reached for his cock, her eyes bewitched at the size of his cock. “It’s so… big.”
She wasn’t big and she was aware of it. The first time she spent her rut with an omega, she thought it was a disaster, not knowing what to expect but the omega had expressed how good her cock felt.
An omega once told her with a wink, “it’s now how big, it’s how you use it.”
“I won’t deny that I’ve never wondered how you would look beneath me, Y/n.” Atsumu admitted, “surely you must know you’re fucken desirable, right?” He pushed the tip of his thick cock in her, groaning when her walls tightly refuse to let him in until he compel, shoving just the tip through. “Relax for me, Y/n…” he slowly pushed back and forth, pushing more of his thick long cock into her until she has lubricated his cock, taking him easier. His eyes were transfixed at his cock disappearing into her pussy until she’s taken all of him. Looking up he sees her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, her lower lip trapped between her teeth. Reaching up he freed her swollen lower lip and smoothed it with his thumb. He pressed his thumb past her lips, “bite me instead…” His cock jerked when she clenched her teeth against his thumb. “That’s it, baby…”
Her teeth loosened and she wrapped her tongue around his thumb, sucking it.
“Fuck…” Atsumu swore before choking out a chuckle, “I’m going fuck your mouth afterward.”
Y/n freed his thumb, “promise?” her legs wrapped around his hips pressing herself upwards to him. “Hurry,” she pleaded, “fuck my pussy, ‘Tsumu…” She never thought she would hear herself say that phrase.
Atsumu didn’t need to be told twice. His body crushed her small one, sandwiching her to his bed as he hiked her legs and began thrusting into her pussy. The bed began to shake violently and the wooden bedframe creaked loudly.
Y/n’s arms encircled his neck tightly while her fingers weaved through his strands of dirty blond hair, gripping them firmly at the roots and giving it a gentle tug. Her hips rolled, meeting his powerful thrusts. She cooed and encouraged him, “yes! Yes… just like that… fuck… you’re so big, ‘Tsumu… you feel so good…”
Atsumu only hummed, his mouth busy sucking a perfect hickey against her neck. It has always made him jealous seeing other omegas mark her and now it is his turn and he is going to make sure his mark is engraved into her skin.
His hips fasten, cock repeatedly hitting her sweet spot. If it felt this wonderful already, he couldn’t imagine how it would be when he was in a rut, when his senses would be fully heightened.
“Y/n,” Atsumu groaned, sliding his tongue along her neck and to her jaw, licking along her cheek. He felt so high, in a state of bliss. Every thrust into Y/n’s pussy sent pure excitement and euphoria pulse through him. “Look at me,” he growled, and when she found his brown eyes, he leaned down and kissed her.
Their tongues tangled and eagerly danced as their mouth moved over each other hungrily.
Atsumu was finally satisfying a lingering curiosity within him, having Y/n beneath him and kissing her.
Y/n moaned his name breathlessly from his kisses, “my tummy… it feels tingly… I’m – I’m going to cum… please let me cum…”
The tightening of Y/n’s pussy and increased enhancement of her pheromone pushed Atsumu to the edge, losing the last of his control. He tightened his arms around her small body and pounded hard until the tip of his cock continue to stimulate her cervix. He badly wished he was in a rut so he could penetrate her cervix and knot her.
Breed her.
Y/n’s teeth sink into his collarbone as she comes undone, her nails digging into his shoulders as her body trembles.
Atsumu follows seconds later, filling her pussy with his hot cum.
There’s no going back, I can’t let her go now, he tells himself. He inhales her scent, feeling his cock already semi-hard once again.
.
“I feel like I haven’t seen you two in a long ass time, what have you guys been up to?” Their mutual friend, Ryuji said, gesturing to Atsumu and Y/n to take a seat in the two empty spots at the end of the table.
“Just the same stuff, training and tournaments,” Atsumu shrugged, pulling the seat for Y/n and pushing in the chair like a gentleman. “Season is wrapping up so I’ll finally get some relaxation.”
Atsumu and Y/n were oblivious to their physical intimacy, they didn’t see how their three other friend’s eyes widened as Atsumu’s body turned towards Y/n, his arm resting behind her chair and thumb rubbing circles on her upper arm. He fills her plate with food and continues updating his friends about his life.
Of course, he is keeping his relationship with Y/n out.
It has been two weeks since Y/n’s first heat, and it took almost two days for her heat to conclude and yet, neither of them has had their fill. They have fucked each other in every possible space in their apartment. Day and night, every possible moment.
They had even pulled a quickie in his car before meeting their friends.
“Be my good girl and keep my cum in you. I’ll reward you later,” Atsumu murmured breathlessly. Y/n could only nod as she squeezed her walls and slip off his cock. He assists by slipping her panties back in place before lifting her and placing her gently back in the passenger seat before slipping himself back into his pants.
Aside from Y/n’s lightly pink cheeks, he didn’t think anyone would notice their coupling.
“Are you two… seeing each other?” Their other friend Yuma carefully inquired.
Y/n was the first to calmly deny it and laugh softly, “no, why do you ask?”
The three friends, Yuma, Ryuji, and Masachi, exchange glances, silently acknowledging a shared thought but opting to not broach the subject further.
They didn’t need to.
No one would be stupid enough to even dare look her way with the way that she reeked of Atsumu’s pheromone. It unmistakably screamed she belonged to him, and him alone.
.
The minute passing was only making Atsumu anxious.
Y/n promised to be home thirty minutes ago and it was past the promised time by ten minutes.
Atsumu was aware of his behavior, the possessive behavior he harbored for Y/n. He couldn’t deny it and it only continued to manifest each passing day.
He couldn’t even blame it on his upcoming rut that only seemed to have enhanced with Y/n’s change of pheromone as of late. Atsumu couldn’t quite put his finger on it but something about her has changed and it only made him more addicted to her.
There was one thing that he knew for sure and it was that he was in love with Y/n and wanted her and only her.
.
Y/n was fully aware of Atsumu’s perilous fixation on her.
She had not meant to let their fling go on this long, or at all. It was all a mistake and now… she couldn’t undo it.
She acknowledged that he wasn’t the only one going through this change alone. Y/n too has become possessive of Atsumu. When he would come home with the scent of another omega on him, she would feel her mood turn sour.
Y/n refused to accept it but since having sex with Atsumu, she has not wanted an omega again. She came to terms that she had officially adopted the omega gender, a lot sooner than later for other hybrids. It was inevitable with the amount of sex she was having.
Studies have shown that the more dominant gender would manifest with the amount of climax and chemicals released each time. Whichever gender they possess during their highest climax constantly, their body will begin to adapt to that gender.
It was an addiction, once Y/n had a taste of being an bottom, there was no going back. She craved for Atsumu, his pheromone, his cock deep within her. She craved feeling his thick cock graze and stimulate her pussy walls. She craved being filled to the point her belly bulged.
Y/n began to be delusional. She has never wanted to be knotted so badly, she wanted Atsumu’s knot. She wanted to be bred.
Aware of her behavior and obsession with Atsumu, Y/n tried to meet other alphas… hoping any alpha would do but when she was approached by an alpha at the bar, her nose crinkled in disgust.
It was undeniable that Atsumu was all she wanted.
For a brief moment, she allowed herself to be greedy, to give in and savor all the seconds she could have with Atsumu. She convinced herself that if she took as much as she could from him, she could let him go and move on with their lives.
She fueled his obsession and possessiveness, allowing him to have his way with her, and ravish her body, mind, heart, and soul to his content. After all, she not only wanted something to remember him by but the same for him, even if it was just her body. She’ll make it so that he would only think of her when he would be with future omegas.
They were constantly having sex everywhere and at any time, morning sex, second-morning sex, before-work sex, after-work sex, shower sex, and bedtime sex. As if they were in a constant heat and rut cycle. She was not blind to Atsumu’s attempts to mark her. Every time he took her from behind, she would freeze when his teeth would graze over her scent gland, where his teeth could puncture the sacred spot that should be reserved for her mate. Her hand would cover the spot but Atsumu has now locked her wrists together above her head.
Y/n has become weak for him, submissive per se, and allowed him to do what he pleases.
But she needed to put an end to it.
Whatever they were doing was unhealthy.
.
“Why – why are you doing this?” His voice wavered, his tone laced with pain.
She waited for him to return home from his daily training and as soon as he entered through their apartment doors, the bright smile he always had faded slowly as he felt the heavy atmosphere in the room. Y/n called for him to take a seat across from her before breaking both their hearts.
“We shouldn’t have even started this in the first place, ‘Tsumu.” Y/n said calmly, but she was anything but calm.
“Don’t call me that, if you don’t want to be with me anymore you have no right to call me that!” A tear slid down his cheek. “Only the woman I love can call me that.”
Y/n held back her tears and swallowed hard before forcing the words out again. “Atsumu, this thing between us should not have even happened in the first place.”
“Why not?” he argued, “it was like you forced me or I forced you. Everything up until now has happened because we both wanted it, and both needed it. We needed each other!”
“Look at us, we know what happens when you cross that line between friends!”
“So what, we can be lovers now?” Atsumu shot back, roughly wiping his tears away. “We can be boyfriend and girlfriend and whatever more if you want, I don’t care. I just want to be with you. I just want to love you!”
As if a veil lifted, she suddenly realizes he loves her.
Y/n blinked, the tears that filled her eyes slipping down her cheeks as she heard his confession.
“You – you do? Like in a real relationship?” Y/n clarified with a careful tone. She didn’t want to misinterpret his words.
“Fuck yes. Do you want to be in a relationship? Then let’s make it official. Do you want to get married? Let’s get married. You want me to mark you, I’ll be glad to mark you to let the whole universe know you are mine…” Atsumu took steps until he was in front of her. When did she look so fragile, so small? He wrapped an arm around her back while his other hand cupped her cheek, wiping away the tear that slipped down her rosy cheek. “I want whatever you want, just as long as you are by my side. Whatever title you want, you can have it all.” He rests his forehead against hers. “But if you are to ask me, I want you as mine in every possible way.”
Y/n shut her eyes tightly. “Say it again,” her voice was barely above whispering, “say you love me again.”
“I love you, Miya Y/n.” Her eyes snapped open and Atsumu grinned, “you didn’t ask but I’m going to give you my last name, so no backs.” He rubbed the tip of his nose against hers, “tell me, Y/n… tell me you love me too.”
“I love you, Miya Atsumu. I love you.”
His life felt 99% complete, there was only that 1% left.
“Now, tell me you’re going to stay by my side for the rest of our lives?”
Y/n pressed her lips to his, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I’m going to stay by your side for the rest of our lives.”
.
Her fingers tremble as the third pregnancy test reveals the same thing, a positive result.
“No… how…” she muttered to herself. She dropped it into the garbage can and massaged her temple.
She began experiencing symptoms that she couldn’t avoid and excuse any longer.
Craving, tenderness, and fatigue.
Everything that was pointing to what she was afraid of was pregnancy.
But how? Atsumu has never knotted her.
“Pregnancy can happen without a knot, it is not as common but it can still happen if you are extremely sexually active.” The doctor raised a brow, questioning, “especially if you are not using protection. Are you sexually active? Having unprotected sex more than four times a week?”
Y/n’s ears burned and she was embarrassed to answer the question.
She and Atsumu did use condoms but would forget, losing themselves to the feeling of skin on skin. Y/n was weak to Atsumu’s begging to always cum inside her. It was to feed his ego of knowing she had a part of him inside her at all times.
Her silence and flushed cheeks were all the doctor needed to know. “The chance of conceiving is much higher if you and your partner are extremely active, which is the case since you said your partner has yet to knot you?”
“That is correct,” Y/n answered meekly.
“With this confirmed pregnancy, there is a high percentage of you becoming an official omega.” They explained that Y/n would no longer be a hybrid, and would no longer have any alpha traits.
The doctor placed a booklet before her titled New Mommy and What to Expect and went through it briefly.
Y/n cleared her throat before asking, “my… partner is due for his rut soon… would it be okay to be knotted while… pregnant?”
Her doctor nodded and flipped to page 8, with big and bold letters at the top: Knotting during pregnancy. “You should be fine, if anything, your body will need your partner’s semen to nourish your pregnancy.”
.
Y/n shivered feeling the heavy pheromone throughout the apartment. Now, it made sense as to why she had been sensitive to his pheromone lately, her pregnancy hormones had enhanced all her senses. “Atsumu?”
Before she could check the kitchen, strong arms enveloped her in a tight bear hug. His hot body heat penetrated through her clothing and she was swallowed wholly by his pheromone at straight physical contact.
His nose buried into her neck as he inhaled sharply, “what took you so long?”
He knew of her appointment but it did run slightly longer than she anticipated.
Before she could answer him, he picked her up, throwing her over his shoulders and carrying her to his bedroom.
Y/n blinked, hands pressed against his lower back to steady herself… and at the same time comprehend the sight in front of her.
Atsumu’s bare ass. He was completely naked.
She is dropped onto his bed and is immediately pressed against the mattress with Atsumu’s body which somehow feels larger than usual, she feels so small under his body.
His mouth is hot and heavy on hers, his fingers already pulling and ripping off her clothes just to feel her naked flesh against his.
Y/n gasped, feeling his cock pressed against her abdomen, it sent a jolt to her pussy and she instantly felt herself wet.
Atsumu straddled her small body but kept his weight off of her. The only weight he had on her was the weight of his cock and heavy sacks against her lower abdomen. His eyes are glowing gold and dilated, a trait of an alpha in a rut cycle.
“Y/n,” he groaned, rocking his cock against her bare skin, seeking any sort of physical touch. He was fighting against losing control, he didn’t want to scare or hurt her. “I don’t want to hurt you… but my rut cycle… it can – I’ve been told I’m too rough… I might hurt you…”
Y/n cupped his cheek, “you will never hurt me, ‘Tsumu…”
He nuzzled against their palm, pressing a kiss to it. “I’m happy to hear… You’re made for me... right? You can take my everything I give you, right?”
She nodded her head like an obediently, eager to please. “Yes. Yes, I am made for you. I will take everything you give me, ‘Tsumu.” She widened her legs, offering herself to him, “hurry, give me your knot.”
Her approval and request are all Atsumu needed to hear to be tipped over the edge, to allow his rut cycle to take over and please Y/n.
He flipped her over onto her tummy and lift her ass, his palm came down onto her left cheek, making her yelp before moaning. He rubs his more than ready cock along her slits before pushing it deep within her warm pussy, stretching her to accommodate his rut-size cock.
Atsumu leaned over her, his whole body wrapped around hers from behind as he pressed a light kiss below her ear, murmuring, “relax for me…”
Y/n’s buried face against his comforters helped her control her breathing as she tried to accommodate the size change of his cock, something that was march larger and thicker than usual. Atsumu was already large and thick in the first place, but his rut-size cock was on another level.
“That’s it baby,” he cooed, feeling her ease up. He wasted no time ramming his cock, groaning as he nudged her cervix opening that immediately began spreading. “I’m going to knot you, baby. Give you the knot you deserve.” He leaned back, straightening himself before scooting them to the edge of the bed. He stepped off but kept Y/n remaining at the edge of the bed with her ass still in the same position, with that, he ram his knock repeatedly.
The bed squeaked along with the clapping of their skin on skin.
Atsumu’s fingers dug deeper into Y/n’s hips, pulling her back to meet his thrusts hard and fast, his cock stimulating quickly each time the tip of his cock would touch her cervix opening.
It wasn’t as common to knot on the first time but Atsumu is positive he will knot her. Her cervix has already propped open, encouraging and readily welcoming his knot.
And he will happily oblige.
He withdrew quickly, smirking at her whimper of emptiness. Flipping her onto her back, he smiled down at her and swiftly filled her with his cock once more. “I need to see your face the first time that I knot you.”
Her eyes enlarged, knowing knotting rarely occurred on the first try, at least for her during her rut cycle days.
“Your cervix has already opened for me,” he whispered hotly, fastening his hips. “Your body is ready for me, for my knot.”
Her eyes rolled back as he confirmed it, the tip of his cock pushed past her opening and locked in place. A loud moan escapes from Y/n’s lips as she tightens and curls against him.
His sack emptied its load of cum deep, filling her womb, breeding her.
Atsumu has been impatient, wanting to impregnate her soon, wanting to see her full and round. Wanting to meet their children who will take after Y/n.
He groaned in pain and pleasure. It was true to the rumors, knotting the person you love was different in all the best way possible. The intimate bond was indescribable.
His thumb massaged deep circles into her hip, trying to distract her from the pain of his knot. “You did so well, you’re taking my knot so well…” he murmured, pressing light kisses all over her face.
Atsumu is suddenly hit with a self-awareness of being selfish. He had never even discussed it with her about children yet, here, he had knotted her. It was a 99% chance of guaranteed pregnancy.
He dropped his head beside her and muttered an apology.
“Why are you sorry?” Y/n asked, rubbing the back of his neck.
He rolled them onto his back with her above him. He avoided her eyes, “I knotted you without asking if you would be okay with… being pregnant…” His eyes closed, unable to witness the expression she might give him.
“Atsumu, look at me.”
His eyes snapped open at the tone of her voice, one he had never heard her use on him. Panic surged through him as he searched her eyes. His eyes suddenly fell on her tits, noticing they looked slightly bigger than he remembered.
“My eyes, Atsumu, look at me.”
With flushed cheeks, he reverted his gaze to hers and swallowed. She shifted over his cock, his knot already begun to deflate.
“I had wanted to announce this much differently but… there’s no better time to announce it than now,” she giggled and reached for his hands and pressed them against her belly. “You see, I’m already pregnant.”
Atsumu’s world froze as he processed her last sentence. “Come – come again?”
Leaning down, she pressed her lips to his, “I’m already pregnant, Atsumu. We’re expecting.” Her eyes widened as she squealed, pressing her hands against his strong muscles. “Atsumu!” she shrieked. Atsumu’s cock that was still inside her had instantly become erect once again.
He groaned and pulled her down flushed against him. “My cock is just as excited…” That meant he would get to have all the raw sex, knowing his duty now is to supply her body with all his cum. Rocking his hips he slowly thrusts into her, ignoring how each time he withdrew, his cum would leak.
Y/n pushed against his chest until she settled on her elbows, trapping his head in between them. Her face hovers over his, “the doctor says my gender has officially changed, I’m an omega now. So, no more rut-cycles for me.”
“Good, you’re my omega now,” Atsumu thrust upward, his hand came around the back of her head and pressed her lips against his, “only mine.”
.
.
.
E/n: :)
>>> @queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy
#haikyuu smut#haikyu x reader#haikyuu x y/n#haikyuu a/b/o#haikyuu miya atsumu#miya smut#miya fluff#miya scenario#atsumu smut#atsumu fluff#atsumu angst#miya atsumu smut#miya atsumu x y/n#a/b/o universe
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buy me coffee?
pairing: hq!atsumu x reader
Atsumus's eyes widen as he spots you through the window of the cafe you were supposed to meet at hours ago.
Classic atsumu, he forgot, again.
He frantically enters through the glass doors and removes his cap with shaky hands. he stands still in front of your table as you type in your laptop.
As he expected, you refuse to acknowledge his overwhelming presence, your eyes glued to your screen and your focus on him through your peripheral vision. in reality, ever since you saw his big coat briefly, you've already started typing incoherent sentences full of nonsense.
Atsumu sighs, he feels bad he does, he takes the seat in front of you and fiddles with the lid of one of the cups on your table. he takes note of its weight and how you probably ordered it for him, expecting him to come.
He tries to grab your hand but you slap it away. he flinches. you don't feel bad. he stares at you. you stare at him and sigh.
"We agreed to meet at 3:00 PM, as it was the time most agreeable for both of us, I'd be finished with classes for the day and you'd be finished with training, and you promised that you wouldn't do extra."
"I know, let me explain-"
"Shut up."
You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose and type whatever on your laptop again. The screen is full of words made up of words stuck together to make incorrigible sentences. Somehow, it perfectly encapsulates the state that you are in at the moment.
click clack click
It takes you about 30 seconds to start talking again, Atsumu waits patiently, taking the hint that you want to express your frustrations first before hearing him out.
"My original goal was to finish this paper last night," you sigh, hitting the delete key multiple times, "but I decided that I'll finish it tomorrow since I wanted to look nice for once and not look like a walking zombie for today's date."
"You look incredible every day."
You ignore his flattery that tries to deescalate your bad mood, "And I made time because I really fucking miss you and I was actually going insane because of this stupid essay, and I spent half of my allowance on overpriced coffee for two but it went to waste because you didn't fucking show up."
"I can pay-"
You start keyboard smashing, "That's really not the point, atsumu."
click clack click
"The point is you have thrown me off the loop," your lips start to wobble, "I was supposed to finish this tomorrow but now I'm almost done with it AND we were supposed to have a nice date and take cute pictures but you decide to show up 5 hours later."
Corcodile tears start forming on your waterline. Alarmed, Atsumu stands up and kneels beside you, wiping away your tears with his handkerchief.
kendjwja delete sksjsjjajs delete owpwnsjriw delete disodbjwwj delete
"You didn't even text or call," you sniff, "didn't even inform me about this change of plans."
"I'm sorry baby," he takes your hand in his and rubs circles against your skin, "I've been so tired of training and helping Samu out in his shop that I lost track of the date and time. I know that's a shit excuse but that's what happened and all I can do now is make it up to you."
"But I'm tired too," you say softly, and it breaks his heart to see you slowly blinking, "but I still make time for you every day, I still squeeze you into my schedule. Stem is literally kicking my ass every day but I still do everything to compromise for you. Asshole."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he pulls you in for a hug and plants a kiss on the top of your head, "I'll do my best to make it up to you, I'm sorry for not being the best boyfriend ever."
"Well," you say through sniffles, "it's good that you're at least self-aware I guess."
Click clack click
"Mhm," Atsumu stops your hand, "Stop that you might delete something important."
"Will you stay with me until I finish this?" you aren't really asking.
"I'll stay with you until class tomorrow."
"You'll stay over?"
"If you'll have me."
You act like you're thinking about it for about five seconds. In reality, you can't help but forgive Atsumu way before he even arrived. Your brain came up with multiple excuses for him all the while you're heart was starting to hurt really badly. You just can't resist.
"Buy me a coffee?"
"Of course," he loosens his hold on you and kisses your cheek, "the usual?"
"Yes."
#i am not a coffee drinker but i've been consuming it like its water#stem girlies rise <3#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#hq atsumu#atsumu x reader#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu angst#atsumu angst#atsumu fluff
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title: holy ground
summary: in which miya atsumu is completely in love with you and you find that very hard to believe.
word count: 3.2k+
warnings/contents: angst, fluff, humour
masterlist
Miya Atsumu has always been a stubborn man. He was stubborn in his opinions, and feelings, and contrary to the popular belief that he flies through people romantically -that was not the case.
He’s only ever had two major loves in his life, the first being the girl in the cereal commercial when he was a kid. Atsumu was dead set on marrying her and living on a dairy farm, and plus free cereal for life. It wasn’t until he found out that she wasn’t real -courtesy of Osamu- that he refused to believe in love.
He’s had crushes and flings, sure, especially in high school, the majority of people do. However, he was too busy trying to win Nationals and be the best setter in Japan that romantic relationships often took the third or fourth spot in his priority list.
Then he met you. It was raining, Atsumu remembers meeting you. You coming in, rushing into the training centre, while you handed off a bento box to his personal trainer. Watching from the ground he was sitting on, watching as you turned, almost slipping on the floor because of your wet shoes, and Atsumu rushing over to help you before anyone could.
Looking down at your wide eyes, your mouth parted in shock and the sheepish smile that soon took over, until he said, “Oi, watch where yer goin’, could have damaged the floor wit’ that face.”
At the scowl on your face, and a clever comeback on your lips, he decided right then and there that you were the only person that was going to be in his heart. You were the only person that he wanted to love, and he wanted to prove it to you.
What Atsumu didn’t know was that loving you was quite a challenge. He was expecting you to put up a little fight, but ultimately after a couple of weeks, you would fall into his arms and you would start your happy ever after. Because that’s how the greatest love stories go, right?
It wasn’t easy for Atsumu, it turns out you were more closed off to the idea of love than he thought. Having been burnt from past lovers, and not really having your parents as good relationship models obscured what your idea of love was.
You told him that you weren’t ready for a relationship, not after your last ex. The pain and games he put you through wasn’t worth the bits and pieces of affection that he gave you. You needed to take time to work on yourself, to find out who you really were before starting a relationship.
Plus, you weren’t over your ex, as much of an asshole as he was, he still had a place in your heart, and while Atsumu was starting to slowly creep in, you refused to start something with him while your heart wasn’t fully committed to one person. As much as you have started to fall for Atsumu, you just couldn’t do that to him.
Atsumu knew all of this. He knew he had his shortcomings. He knew that he was impatient when it came to things, but with you? He would wait a million years if he had to.
He remembers the conversation he had with you when he first declared that he loved you, and you said that he was being stupid. Which he probably was, because it was months into being friends with you.
“I’m in love with you,” Atsumu blurted out as you sat down next to him. You slowly passed the bag of takoyaki to him.
“Well, I know that I did you a favour by bringing the best takoyaki Osaka can offer but I didn’t realise it will bring such a strong reaction,” you jested as you willed your heartbeat to slow down.
“I’m being serious,” you knew that he was. From the moment he finished his sentence, you would have placed all your money that this moment was the most serious moment in Atsumu’s life.
“‘Tsum, we’ve talked about this,” you turned to face the ground, unable to look at the distraught or angry look on his face. “I can’t. Not yet.”
“I never said that I wanted us to be in a relationship,” Atsumu smiled at you fondly, not that you could see it. Placing the bag by his side, Atsumu slowly reached out for your hand that was now fiddling with the bottom of your top. “I just wanted ya to know,” he shrugged, as if the atomic bomb he just dropped was a mere raindrop. “I don’t mind waiting, if it’s for you.”
“What happens if I ask you to wait forever?”
“I’m a patient man.”
“You’re one of the most impatient people I know.”
“I can learn.”
--
“I think, I think that I may want to start a relationship with him,” at the knowing glance of Tsukishima, you rolled your eyes.
“Wow, you’ve finally come to the conclusion that everyone has,” at the bluntness of his tone, you roughly shoved him. Looking at his watch, “It only took you long enough.”
At the passing comment, you frowned. “Do you think I took too long?”
Hearing the sincerity in your tone, Tsukishima’s smirk dropped a little, and briefly looked at Kuroo who just shrugged at him telling him silently ‘you fix it’.
Tsukishima scoffed and rolled his eyes, “That man is wholly in love with you that it’s so fucking disgusting, anyone and everyone can see it. You could be fifty and he would still love you the same amount, possibly more.”
--
Letting yourself through the door, you called out Atsumu’s name. Hyping yourself up mentally, you felt pretty good. You felt confident, and this was something that you’ve wanted to do for a long time. You looked at your hands which were slightly shaking and you closed them tightly, swallowing the heartbeat in your mouth.
Walking over to his couch, you briefly looked at the beautiful view that Atsumu’s apartment overlooked. It was absolutely breathtaking. Calling his name out again, you watched as he popped out from his bedroom, a bright smile on his face.
Feeling your heart relax at the sight of him, you smiled largely. Before you could say anything, you heard another pair of footsteps, turning around to face the person, you couldn’t help but feel your heart drop to your stomach.
You’ve seen this before, you’ve felt this emotion before. Before, you would have cried and screamed and stormed out of his flat before he or she could say anything. But now? You felt frozen, numb and detached. It felt like you were watching the scene unfold in front of your eyes but you were not yourself.
“Oh Atsumu-san, thank you for lending me your shirt,” a woman you’ve never seen before walks out of Atsumu’s kitchen, looking at the clothing that was now on her body.
Finally noticing that Atsumu wasn’t wearing a shirt either, your brain connected the clues. Eyes roaming over his body, you couldn’t detect any love marks, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have them.
Turning to you, Atsumu paled. No, fuck no. This was not happening. Pinching himself, he realised that this was in fact happening. “(Y/N), it’s not what you think.”
“OH!” You yelped out, forcing yourself to calm down by clenching your first, you internally berated yourself. This was not the time to cry. “Oh, I’m so, sorry,” you rushed out your apologies, bowing profusely, already mentally and emotionally checking out of the place. You both gave them a tight lipped smile, “I’m just leaving, I’ll leave you two.”
Rushing out the door, desperately trying to wipe away the tears before any of them saw, you ran to the elevator. Punching the key to make it go faster, you could hear Atsumu’s footsteps rushing out to catch up to you.
Praying to every deity you could think of, you were finally blessed when you heard the familiar ding. Pushing the lobby, and forcing the doors to close, you kept your eyes down as you saw Atsumu rounding the corner before the door closed.
Gasping and leaning on the wall, you let out a painful sob. You knew this was going to happen, eventually this was going to happen. It always did, so why did this kill you more than anything? If this was love, you didn’t want it.
--
“(Y/L/N)-san,” the familiar voice of the waiter greeted. Looking at the clock and realising that it’s only been a couple of hours since he last saw you, “You’re back.”
Shrugging and smiling at him, he led you to your favourite booth. Sitting down and telling him your order, with a few extra sides, you collapsed forward. Realising that this was the booth that you and Atsumu always sit in brought a new fresh set of tears. Your heart clenching, you tried to drink some water to try anything to distract you.
You sat there in silence, not even bothering to look at your phone. You knew that Atsumu was calling you and texting you by the frequent vibrations. Maybe tomorrow when you’ve had a somewhat decent night's rest and food will make your head feel more balanced.
“No Miya-san, today?” The waiter asked as he placed down the first couple of dishes.
Looking up at him, you smiled politely, “He was preoccupied doing other things.”
--
“I thought we made a promise that we’d never go here by ourselves?”
Clenching your jaw, you refused to look at the man standing by the booth. And you promised to wait, jerk.
You watched as Atsumu leaned back into the booth, grabbing his own chopsticks and picking up the dumpling you were about to eat.
“Miya Atsumu,” you warned, giving him a glare. All he did was grin back at you and plop the dumpling in his mouth. Unaware that it was a soup dumpling, which earned you a front row seat to the MSBY star setter burning his mouth and panicking as the hot soup went all over his clothes.
Glaring half-heartedly at your laughter, you handed him some napkins. “Serves you right for trying to eat my food.”
“But ya love me,” gone was your smile and easiness.
Once cooled down, Atsumu began to eat bits and pieces of your food. “Ya know, yer one of the smartest people I know,” he looked up at you after eating a piece of beef. “So why are yer so dumb right now?”
Offended you scowled at him, “What the actual fuck, ‘Tsum?”
Leaning back into his seat, playing with the placemat, “Why do ye think that I’d sleep with someone else when I told you that I love you?”
Glancing away from his stare, you looked at the restaurant around you. It was dead quiet, and you could hear the quiet rain from outside. Shrugging, you took a sip of your drink. “I mean, it’s been so long I thought that maybe you would have been done waiting. I wouldn’t fault you for sleeping or wanting to sleep with someone else.”
It hurt to say those words to Atsumu because you hoped that he didn’t. While it was selfish of you to indirectly ask him to wait, you just wanted someone to wait for you, like all you've been doing all your life.
Atsumu rolled his eyes and leaned forward, flicking your hand once -which earned another scowl, he looked at you. A part of you wanted to look away but something inside of you told you that you needed to look at him.
“I told yer, and I’ll gladly tell you again, that I’ll wait for you,” he stated simply like you just asked him the weather.
“But why?”
Shrugging, “Because I love you. Yer it for me, no one else. If I have to wait another year, or ten years, I’ll do so.”
“But why?”
“Do ya want a list?” he arched his brow and when you didn’t respond, he shrugged, and paid complete attention to you. “First, you make me laugh. With yer stupid dad jokes that ya tell all the time, the weird tiktoks that you send me at 2 in the morning, or yer goofy lil’ habits,” struggling to keep eye contact with him, you looked down on the table. “Yer never fail to make me smile, especially on the rough days after losin’ a match, yer always there to bring a smile to ma face.”
Tapping twice on the table, you watched as his fingers moved over to yours and started tapping on it, one, two, three, pause, one, two, three, pause.
“Second, you support me. Ya’ve always had ma back even when I was the shittiest person to be around, do ya remember how many times I’ve snapped at ya when I was tryin’ out for a spot on the National team? After every snap, after every argument, or when I’ve left ya on read -not on purpose, by the way, you’ve always been there waitin’ for me.
“Yer always the first person that I tell when I accomplish somethin’, (Y/N), because I know that when you say yer proud of me, I know ye mean it, yer not just sayin’ it.” Now leaning forward, he fully grasped your hand, he silently knocked your foot with his, a subtle gesture to make you look at him.
“But yer also the first person I tell when I fail somethin’. I never liked talkin’ bout me failin’ anythin’, because,” shrugging Atsumu dropped his sentence. “The point is, I know yer still gonna see me as ‘Tsum because it doesn’t matter in yer eyes if I win or lose a match, because ye love me for me.”��
Putting up three fingers, “Third, your opinion -apart from Ma’s and ‘Samu’s but they don’t count- is really the only one I care ‘bout. Every time I do somethin’, I think ‘what would (Y/N) think of this?”
“Fourth, ya make me feel complete. It’s like this thing inside of me, ya know? That I didn’t realise I wanted or needed until I met ya. Everytime I’m around ya it makes me happier, now don’t get me wrong, yer one of the most frustrating people I know but that makes me want to be around more.”
Taking a deep breath, he finally held up all his fingers, and smiled softly at you. “Fifth, when I picture myself in the future, retired and just livin’ the life with Samu, ‘Kaashi and their kids, the person I see myself with, is you. Yer the only person I’ve ever imagined that with, I’ve tried and imagined it with other people to see, but it felt wrong, it felt like I was trying to fit ya know those wooden shape things into the wrong hole. I have plenty more, if ya want but those are the deeper ones that I know, if ya want the smaller stuff, I can do that too,” Atsumu spoke to you as if he just hadn’t redefined what being in love meant.
You knew that deep in your heart, and thanks to both of your friends that Atsumu was in love with you. But this? This was everything and more. This was the movies you watched, the songs that you listened to, the stories you heard, the things your heart has longed for and more. Atsumu was more.
Paying attention to Atsumu, you watched as he began pulling out his phone, “I made a list, do ya want to see?” He quickly tapped on his phone and his notes appeared, your eyes quickly scanned the list, a long list if the sidebar had anything to say, as Atsumu started listing off the smaller things, “Ye make those weird noises when you don’t think anyone is looking, ya talk to yourself a lot, ya cry at all of those animal videos.”
Locking his phone before you barely got to the halfway point, Atsumu placed his phone on the table and took a deep breath, “But the reality of it is, I don’t care how long it takes for you to say ‘okay ‘Tsum, I’m ready’ because I’m always going to be here waitin’ for ya, maybe we’ll be type of couple where it takes a long time for us to get together, and yeah, there’ll be hiccups,” a small serene smile appeared on Atsumu’s face. He looked at you, like the many times he has before. It was the same fond look, the kind where it makes you feel warm and fuzzy. “But then, it’ll be perfect. You an’ me.”
Plopping the final dumpling in his mouth, he grinned at you while pointing his chopsticks, “Plus, when I sit down our kids’, it’ll be a hell of a story, don’t ya think?”
Not being able to say anything, you picked up the extra set of chopsticks on the table and pushed the dumplings in the middle. Atsumu’s heart lightened as he saw your peace offering. Maybe one day he’ll tell you that this was the hardest moment in his life.
--
“Come on,” he bent forward and you looked sceptically at him. When you didn’t hop on his back, he rolled his eyes. “We have to walk for like ten minutes to get to yer place, and yer wearing those shoes ya don’t like because it makes your feet hurt,” turning back around, “now hop on.”
--
It was a Thursday night, yours and Atsumu’s Thursday nights. You were sitting on the kitchen counter as you watched him prepare the dinner he was excited to make. He was talking you through it; Osamu had one of the cooking shows in the background while Atsumu was over, and the dish caught his eye. Watching him right now was something you knew you could do for the rest of your life.
It’s funny really, for you, you thought it would be this giant explosion that hey! You’re in love! Or there would be this grand epiphany. But that never happened. Maybe it was slow at first, a slow burn that when the ember finally sparked into a forest fire you didn’t realise. Or maybe, it was always there. It was there when you first met Atsumu all those years ago, him helping you and then insulting you.
“Hey, ‘Tsum,” you watched him turn around. You thought that your heart would be beating so hard that it would be flying out of your chest, but this was the most calm you’ve ever been around him. Tilting your head, you smiled at him and he knew.
“I just wanted to tell you that I love you,” you spoke softly. There was everything in those words that you just spoke, and from all the times you thought it would be the hardest thing to say, it was somehow the easiest and truest thing you’ve ever spoken.
Grinning, you saw his eyes tear up before coughing to hide it. “Yeah?” Walking over to you slowly, fearing that it was one of the many dreams that he’s had before. Finally reaching you, he hesitantly reached out, hands shaking.
“Yeah,” pulling him into your arms and breathing in the familiar scent you’ve now come to realise was home, you whispered the words that made Atsumu feel whole, “I’m so in love with you Miya Atsumu.”
Miya Atsumu is a stubborn man, and you were thankful for that.
‘...but i don't wanna dance, if i’m not dancing with you.’
let me know what you think! :)
-e
#atsumu x reader#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu angst#haikyuu one shot#atsumu angst#haikyuu imagine#atsumu imagine#miya atsumu x reader angst#miya atsumu angst#miya atsumu#miya atsumu x reader#atsumu one shot#haikyuu
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Comparing you to their Ex girlfriend
Kiyoomi Sakusa x Fem! reader; Atsumu Miya x Fem! Reader
Warnings: toxic behavior, swearing, Sakusa and Atsumu being big ole jerks, mention of ex’s, angst to comfort
AN: because I enjoy pain : D
Sakusa
Dating life had been pretty dull before you met MSBY’s famed spiker, Kiyoomi Sakusa. It had taken awhile to get to know him. He was a guarded and rather brass individual, not talking much to anyone outside his small circle. However after weeks of trying and being rejected, you finally were able to break thought his defensive walls. He had finally given you a chance.
Now, almost a year later, you and Kiyoomi had a well established routine. It had taken a while to figure out each other quirks, but soon you were able to function as one unit, living your lives both independently and cohesively.
However, one thing you struggled continuously to get use to was Kiyoomi’s high standards of cleanliness. No matter how hard you tried, you never were able to keep up. You knew it was a big reason why Kiyoomi and you hadn’t taken the next step in your relationship, why you hadn’t yet moved in together. It was often a topic of discussion and many times arguments. Your disagreement’s were never fully settled as you both always managed to run out of steam, knowing this was an issue that wouldn’t be quickly resolved.
You tried you hardest, watching his routine and replicating it as best as you could but it was still never enough for him. Despite all this, you loved and adored Kiyoomi and wanted nothing more than the spend the rest of your life with him.
One night, you were sitting on his couch while you watched a movie. He had been at practice all day and you had just gotten off of work. You spent most of you time at his place, knowing perfectly well that he preferred it. While it was inconvenient at times, you kept clothes and the essentials at his place to make mornings and weekends a little easier.
“They are redoing carpeting in the hallway this week,” Kiyoomi spoke as you looked at him. You knew he had been hoping management would upgrade for a while now so you were thrilled.
“I’m glad! I know you’ve wanted this for a while. You always complain about the stains and stuff so it’s good that they are finally taking notice,” you said as he hummed in agreement.
“Yeah but I’ll have to stay in a hotel for a few days because I won’t be able to have access to my apartment so that kind of sucks.”
You didn’t see this as an inconvenience but rather as an opportunity. You had been waiting to show Kiyoomi how you’ve improved your cleaning skills and you were certain that they were beyond up to his standards.
“You know, you could just stay with me?” You spoke as Kiyoomi looked at you, smiling and then chuckling. Confused, your brows furrowed as you waited for him to speak.
“No offense sweetie but I’ve seen your cleaning skills and I think I’ll take my chances at a hotel,” he laughed. You sat up, looking at him as he stared.
“Omi I’ve been working my butt off to keep my place clean. I do everything you asked and I’ve been keeping in mind the things you taught me,” you said as Kiyoomis face fell. He could tell you were serious.
“YN it’s ok. Cleaning isn’t everyone’s strong suit and it’s obviously not yours,” he replied as you stood up, offended by his words.
“I’m trying my hardest Kiyoomi! I come home, exhausted everyday and I clean. Then, instead of relaxing, I drive over here and spend my nights with you because I know you are more comfortable in your own environment!” You shout as Kiyoomi rolls his eyes m, standing up and walking past you.
“YN you are making a huge deal of this again, we’ve been over this!” He spoke going into the kitchen and plgrabbing his cleaning supplies. You knew he cleaned when he was stress, it wasn’t like his normal routine.
“Omi I’m not trying to-”
“YN just shut up ok?! Just shut up! It’s always something with you! This is always a fight and I’m sick of it! If you were half as good as Becca was at cleaning we’d already be living together!” He growled as you froze, you mouth falling slack as you body went cold. How could he? How could he bring her up? Of everything he could have said, how could he have stooped so low.
You straightened you back, tears filling your eyes as you heart began to crumble, “I’ll never be good enough for you will I Kiyoomi?” Turning on your heels, you grabbed your purse and shoes, walking out the front door.
Leaning on the counter, his anger began to grow, not at you but at himself. He couldn’t believe she had come to his mind, someone he hadn’t thought about in years. Becca had been his high school sweetheart, and he thought she was it. Unfortunately, schedules clashed and his life as a pro-volleyball superstar skyrocketed. He found less and less time for her and she had grown sick of it. Before he knew it, he had come home to an empty apartment, he spare key on the counter with a note that simply rid, “I fell out of love with you.” That was the last Tim he had seen or heard from her again. He figured she’d moved on, found someone who was worthy of her time.
The breakup had broken him in more ways than he carried to admit. He became more reclusive, pulling away from friends and family. He got in the habit of being alone, functioning without someone at his side. That all changed when he met you. You were gorgeous, funny and so outgoing. He immediately found himself attracted to you but he was scared, scare of his heart being broken again, scared he would lose something so precious.
You continued to peruse him, despite his desperate attempts to keep you away. He wanted to be with you, wanted to move on but his fear of being left alone was paralyzing. Finally, he relented and went on a date with you. Soon one turned into two and then three and then six. Your relationship happened effortlessly and he enjoyed every minute of it. He knew he loved you, knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you but he was afraid to make that next step so he kept you at bay with his ridiculous cleaning demands. He knew they were outrageous and over the top but they protected him, they protected his heart.
He stood there, once again in silence as his breathe began to hitch. He had done it again, he had driven the person he lived away. His arms fell to his side as he reached for his phone. He pulled up your contact information and hit the dial button.
The phone rang and rang as you ignored it. You knew Kiyoomi was calling but you couldn’t bare speaking to him, you curled up in your freshly made bed as your tears overwhelmed you. The pain of her name imprinted on your brain as you sobbed.
Kiyoomi had told you about Becca, he had told you why she had left. You knew he was guarded and you were determined to do whatever you could to fix it. You hated how broken he was, how he felt he couldn’t trust anyone. It was a big reason as to why you worked your hardest to live up to his standards, thinking maybe, just maybe, he would let his guard down.
“You’re such an idiot Yn,” you cried as you covered your head up and sobbed deeply.
“Yeah, what’s up?” Atsumu answered as Kiyoomi stood in his kitchen, taking his hand down his face. He had messed up and in a bad way.
“I really fucked update with Yn Sumu. She left and I don’t think she’s coming back,” he murmured into the phone.
“What happened? Did she finally have enough of your bullshit demands?” Atsumu laughed as Kiyoomi sighed.
“We got into a fight because she wanted to me stay with her while my apartment was getting some work done. I thought she was joking but she wasn’t and I kind of threw Becca in her face.”
“You did what??? You asshole!” Atsumu shouted as Kiyoomi pulled the phone away from his ear, “I mean come on dude, YN has been dealing with your bullshit for almost a year now! She does everything you ask of her and all she wants is for you to see that. I think she’s more than shown you she can handle your ridiculous standards dude. Plus she’s probably the most patient woman I’ve ever seen. I mean, literally dealing with you is just as bad as emo Bokuto!”
Kiyoomi didn’t answer because he knew what Atsumu was saying was true. He knew his standards were high and that in a lot of ways, they were just a guard.
“You know she loves you right? She’s not going anywhere Omi. She chased you down for months and she’s stood by you for almost a year, she’s not leaving dude,” Atsumu spoke softly as a tear rolled down kiyoomi’s cheek.
“I think I need to talk to her,” he responded as he heard Atsumu mutter an “mmhmm” before hanging up. He grabbed his keys, locking up before making his way to your apartment.
You groaned as the knocking on your door became obsessive. You had absolutely no intention on answering the door in the state you were in but the person had continued to knock for well over 20 minutes.
With mascara running down your cheeks and you hair in disarray, you made your way to the front door, checking the peephole before opening it.
You saw Kiyooni on the other side, looking visibly upset. Unlocking the door, you swung it open as the smell of cleaning products wafted, hitting his nose smack in the face.
“What do you want?” You growled as Kiyoomi stood there taking you in. You looked like you had been crying, no doubt because of him and his actions. Your face was flush and your hair a complete disaster. Still, you looked absolutely breathtaking to him.
“Can-can I come in?” He questioned, rubbing the back of his head as you turned and headed towards the living room.
“Take your shoes off at least,” you said as Kiyoomi looked around. Your apartment was immaculately kept, everything clean and in its place. Dare he say, it may have even been cleaner than his own place.
Having slipped his shoes off, he headed to the couch. You had sat in the arm chair, indicating you didn’t want to be close to him. He couldn’t really blame you for that.
“I can to apologize Yn. I’m really sorry for everything I said, for how hard I’ve been on you. Honestly, I don’t have an excuse at this point. I’ve been a complete asshole to you. I’ve set my standards and walls so high that I was sure you’d never reach them and every time you did, it kind of freaked me out. I was scared of losing you like I lost her. I was scared of how much I loved you and how much I came to need you in my life. I know you don’t have to forgive me and I don’t expect you too but I just wanted you to know how sorry I am and how much I really do love you.”
Tears fell as you listened to him speak. You knew he was guarded but this was a whole new level. Tears streamed down your cheeks as your eyes met his, “I love you Kiyoomi and all I’ve ever tried to do was show you that. I know how important volleyball is to you and what happened with your ex but I’m not her. I’m not going to to fall out of love with you because your passionate about volleyball.”
Kiyoomi watched you as tears fell, he knew you were being sincere and that you cared for him. He stood up, walking over to you and kneeling in front of you, “YN, I love you and I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I said those things and pushed you away. I’m sorry I ever gave you a chance or agreed to come stay with you. I shouldn’t have compared you to her. There is nothing to compare Yn, I love you so so much more than I ever loved her and I hope you can find it in your heart o forgive me.”
You smiled softly as you hand went to rest on his cheek, whiling a stray tear as it flowed down, “I forgive you Kiyoomi and I love you so much.”
Atsumu
Your relationship with Atsumu was an interesting one. When you first met him, you thought he was rather arrogant and annoying, not usually someone you’d date. However the more you got to know him, the more he grew on you, leading to your now 6 month long relationship. Sure it had its ups and downs but you were so in love with the un-toned blonde setter.
Atsumu and you both had extreme personalities, which was a double edged sword in your relationship. You both were extremely passionate and loving towards each other but when you fought, oh boy was it a show.
You didn’t fight a lot, usually only when things got serious or you got annoyed with his normal stupidity. You both had separate lives, somehow managing to cohesively combine them to fit each other.
Both being workaholics, you struggled sometimes to find time for each other. Atsumu was at the gym for long hours and you were at your office for equally as long but you always made weekly dates and kept your relationship fresh.
This week, it was your turn to plan your weekly date. Unfortunately for you, you’d been not only extremely run down at work but your period had just started and you weren’t feeling the best. You decided that it would be ok to keep it low key for one week since you usually always went all out. You’d order take out and watch a movie, it was simple but you knew the point of date was to spend time with your man.
When Sumu came home, he noticed you in your pajama’s chilling on the couch as you smiled at him. He looked at you, confused as to why you weren’t ready to go out. “Uh babe, we have date night tonight remember?” He said, removing his shoes and setting his bag down. He had been busy at the gym, exhausted from all the extra work he had been putting in. He was looking forward to going out, enjoying the town and spending time with his girl.
“I thought we could switch things up once! I was going to order take out and figured we could rent a movie,” you smiled as his face fell. You looked at him as he stared at you, wondering why his expression had all of a sudden turned sour
“Babe we always go out. I was looking forward to not being at home,” he complained as you stood up, walking over to him. You could tell he was growing agitated but maybe if you explained then he’d be ok.
“Sumu, I’m dead tired and my period came today-”
“Ok so take a midol or something! We can still go out Yn. You aren’t the only one on this relationship you know!?” he shouted as you reeled. What the actual fuck?
“Sumu what the hell?!? I planned a nice night in because I don’t feel well and you tell me to just take some pills and get over it?”
“It honestly sounds like you were just being lazy Yn. It’s not like it takes that much effort to make reservations or put a little makeup on. I mean you do it everyday for your coworkers so you should be able to do it for your boyfriend!” He shouted as you began growing angry.
“Well I’m fucking sorry for having a uterus Sumu! Heaven forbid I ever fucking inconvenience you with my bleeding and exhaustion but oh wait, I forgot, I’m not perfect like you!” You screamed back as he glared.
“You know, Layla never bothered me with shit like this Yn, she knew exactly what I wanted and she never argued with me!” He spat as you stared at him, mouth agape.
How fucking dare he bring her up? Layla, his perfect ex girlfriend who was a model and absolutely drop dead gorgeous. He knew bringing up her was a low blow and he didn’t even care.
“Well then, why don’t you go back to Layla then if I’m such an inconvenience,” you murmured, standing your ground.
“Maybe I will!” He shouted, grabbing his gym bag, slipping his shoes on and walking out the front door.
It took a moment, just a minute to sink in before your whole world came crashing down. Your hands flew to your mouth as you began to shake, tears threatening to spill as you quickly turned and headed to the bedroom.
You cried as you grabbed your overnight bag and began throwing clothes in it. You couldn’t believe he had said that. How could he possibly stoop so low. Of all the people, why did it have to be her? Your chest stung as you leave with the bare minimum, throwing your purse over your shoulder and grabbing your keys as you frantically made your way to the front door.
You had to get out of here, you couldn’t stay here. Not in this place, not surrounded by pictures of the two of you and definitely not as the afterburn of her name hit you. The thought of him seeking her out to comfort him chipped away at your heart, you couldn’t stomach the thought of Atsumu being with her again.
You turned, looking around one last time before leaving. The tears fell, gathering on your clothes and shoes. The heartbreak you were feeling immeasurable.
Groaning, Atsumu sat in his car thinking about the fight over and over again. He was pissed, fuming actually but surprising, it wasn’t at you. He only had himself to be angry at. He knew he overreacted, knew you didn’t deserve the shouting match he started.
He sighed, getting out of his car and knocking on his brothers door. Osamu answered, giving his twin a weird look.
“I thought tonight was date night?”
“YN and I had a fight,” he spoke as Osamu rolled his eyes.
“Of course you did,” he responded moving out of the way, “what happened in paradise now?”
“Well it was suppose to be date night and instead of planning a date, she decided it would be ok for us to just have takeout and watch a movie,” Atsumu reiterated as Samu stared at him.
“Ok and what’s wrong with that?”
“I wanted to go out but she said she wasn’t feeling good, her period or something. So I suggested she take midol-”
“Bro you didn’t?” Samu spoke, eyes widening as Atsumu stared at him.
“I mean, I guess it was kind of rude but dude I want to go out, I want to do stuff!”
“Ok but maybe Yn wasn’t feeling good. Date nights aren’t about going out, it’s about spending time together,” Samu replied.
“Yeah I guess so,” Atsumu said, thinking back to the conversation, “fuck I said something else too. Something kind of mean.”
Osamu looked at him as Atsumu raked his hands through his hair, “what did you say?”
“Fuck- I fuck! I compared her to Layla,” Sumu said, collapsing on his brothers couch.
“You compared Yn, sweet Yn, to that cunt? Dude she was such a fucking bitch and she cheated on you! What the fuck is wrong with you?” Osamu shouted as Atsumu sat down, hands going straight to his hair.
“I know I know man! Fuck I was just so upset about not going out and I- I guess I overreacted.”
“You think? God Sumu you are so stupid! YN is literally the best thing that ever happened to you! Do you realize how fucking annoying you are to deal with? How much YN puts up with? Do you remember when you found out Layla was cheating? God you were the literal worst! Sakusa, heck even Meian, couldn’t handle you!” Atsumu’s hands went down to his knees as he contemplated everything he had been through.
Atsumu had been single for almost a year when he had first laid eyes on you. After Layla had cheated, he had stuck to mostly one night stands. While they weren’t in short supply, he missed the connection of having someone to care for and love.
The first time he saw you was at a bar, dressed in a skin tight outfit he couldn’t remove from his mind. His plans for you started out like all his other plans but immediately changed when you flatly turned him down. He’ll never forget the look you gave him and the giggle followed by the words, “not in your lifetime big guy.” Those words, the look you gave him were definitely what first attracted him to you and after chasing you for months, he finally wore you down enough for a date.
He was utterly broken after his ex had left, crushed by the weight of feeling not good enough. He didn’t want that to ever happen again which is why he kept all potential flings at a distance m, never bringing them to his apartment and never bothering to learn their names, but when you came into his life, that all changed. He learned that he could love again and that not all women were like Layla.
Atsumu stood up, walking to Osamu’s door and exiting. He knew exactly what he needed to do. He needed to grovel at your feet, beg for forgiveness and pray that you’d find it in your amazing heart to forgive him.
Arriving at your shared apartment, he ran upstairs grabbing the door handle and pushing it, only it was locked. His eyes widened as he again pushed on the knob. Why was the door locked? Did you not expect him to come home tonight? The words hit him like a ton of bricks.
“Well then maybe you should go back to Layla!”
“Maybe I will!”
“Shit shit!” He whispered as he quickly grabbed his keys and unlocked the door, pushing in as fast as he could. The apartment was dark and quiet, something he wasn’t use to.
“YN!! YN!! Baby where are you?!”
He searched the entire apartment, frantically looking for any sign of you. He stopped, his breathe hitching as his mind wandered to the worst.
“No no! Please tell me she didn’t!?” He yelled, running to the closet in your bedroom and throwing it open. The blood drained from his face and his eyes began to water as he slowly backed up. Your suitcase was gone, some of your clothes also.
Scrambling quickly, he ran to his phone on the counter and quickly found your number. “Come on baby, pick up!” He whispered.
“Hello?” You answered, somber in tone and sounding like you had been crying.
“Baby? Oh thank god! Where are you? I came home and you were gone, I was so worried!” He sighed, feeling a little relieved that you actually answered his call.
“Why don’t you go back to Layla? I’m sure she can console you!” You spat as Atsumu whinced. Ok, he deserved that, he definitely deserved that.
“Baby, listen I just want to talk ok? I know I fucked up and I’m so sorry Yn. I know I overreacted and I know my words don’t makeup for what I said but I love you Yn. You are the one I want, the one who helped me to trust again. Please Yn, baby come home,” Atsumu sobbed as you sighed.
“I’m sorry Sumu but I’m not going to come home tonight or for a while. What you said was so hurtful and low. You didn’t think of anyone but yourself Sumu. I told you I wasn’t feeling well, that I was exhausted and you told me to take some medicine and suck it up! Then on top of that, you threw her fucking name in my face! You don’t know how fucking much that shattered me Sumu,” you cried, sucking in a breath as Atsumu listened. He knew he fucked up but this was by far the worst he’d ever messed up.
“Princess please, I know- I know I’m a fucking asshole and I should have never ever brought her up, I was mad and I let me anger get the better of me. Just please, please can we talk about this?” He pleaded into the phone, tears running down his cheeks.
“I’ll talk to you later Sumu,” you sighed, hanging up as Atsumu collapsed to his knees, his body shaking as he tried to process everything. You were gone, really gone.
The next morning, your phone rang as you sighed, bracing for another phone call from Atsumu. You picked up the phone, looking at the caller id as your brows furrowed.
“Hello?” You said as Osamu’s voice filled the receiver.
“Hey Yn, uh I’m really sorry to bother you but Sakusa just called me, Atsumu didn’t show up for practice today. I can’t leave the restaurant right now or I’d go check on him but I was wondering if you were with him?”
You breathe stopped, your mind functioning of auto pilot as you raced from your hotel room to your car.
“YN is everything ok?” Osamu said sounding more panicked.
“I- I left Samu! I left him alone! Oh god, Samu I was so hurt by what he said! I got a hotel room and he called me last night. He told me how sorry he was and I told him I needed time! Oh my god what if something happened to him!”
You were sobbing as your tires squealed, your foot hitting the floor as you peeled out of the hotel parking lot. The tears rolled down your face as you heart sped up, your brain automatically going to the worst possible scenario.
“YN calm down ok? I’m sure he’s fine! Please don’t do anything irrational right now,” Sumu spoke, trying to calm you.
You couldn’t answer as you speed to your apartment, parking and throwing open the car door. You left Osamu shouting into your phone as you as you quickly raced to the door.
Ramming into your front door, you threw it open and we’re greeted with Atsumu standing there, staring at you.
“YN what the hell? Are you ok?” he said as you through your body into his, bracing as you sobbed into his chest.
“Osamu called me and said that you didn’t show up to practice! I thought about our conversation last night and oh god Sumu!” You cried into his chest as his arms wrapped around you, holding you close and rubbing your back.
“Baby, hey it’s ok. I’m ok? I texted Meian and told him I needed a day off. I just couldn’t get you off my mind and the thought of even trying to push you out just hurt,” he said, hugging you tight as his eyes began to well with tears.
“Baby I’m so so fucking sorry! I can’t believe I was so selfish. I know I don’t deserve you but YN, I love you more than anything. You are it for me, the only thing I ever want.”
You pulled back, eyes softening as you quickly placed a kiss on Atsumu’s lips, “Sumu what you said was mean and hurtful and you are the biggest jerk ever but I love you so much and the thought of losing you well, it crushed me more than anything.”
“I promise Yn, I’ll be better for you,” he smiled, leaning down and taking your lips once again.
#haikyuu!!#haikyu!#haikyū!!#haikyu x y/n#haikyu x female reader#sakusa kiyoomi#sakusa angst#miya atsumu#atsumu miya#atsumu angst#sakusa x female reader#atsumu x female reader#tw: angst#haikyu angst#hq sakusa#hq atsumu#atsumu x you#sakusa x you#sakusa x reader#atsumu x reader#haikyu x reader#atsumu x y/n#sakusa x y/n#msby bj#msby#msby sakusa#msby atsumu#timeskip atsumu#timeskip sakusa#sakusa drabble
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[7:40pm]
“Where is he?” You asked softly. Your eyes roamed across the volleyball members occupying the hallway before looking back at the boy beside you.
Osamu looked at you with a grim look and stuck his thumb behind him. “Sitting in the locker room. There shouldn’t be anybody else in there right now.”
You nodded. “Thanks ‘Samu.”
He dipped his chin in response before continuing to pack his duffle bag. There was a somber tone amongst the team as they began to slowly make their way out of the building.
You headed to the locker room, slightly dragging your feet along the way. Once you were faced with the pale grey door, you found yourself hesitating to open it and laid your hand flat on its surface. Sighing, you turned around and leaned your back against it. What were you doing here?
“Sooo what’s going on there?” Your friend had asked a few weeks ago while grinning like a Cheshire cat. You both had just watched a yellow-haired boy cheerfully wave at you through the classroom window before heading to his own class.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you opted to stare straight ahead at the board.
“Oh c’mon. You and Miya have been acting all buddy-buddy recently.”
“Yep because we’re buddies.” You began to doodle on the corner of your notebook.
Your friend snorted. “When did that happen?”
You couldn’t help but smile softly at the memory of meeting Atsumu for the first time. Your friend was right - Atsumu and you used to have an awful relationship.
You had started Inarizaki a bit later than everyone else. Your family had decided to move into the area after your father had a job transfer, and so you found yourself the awkward new student a few months after the school year had begun. Volleyball tryouts had already passed, but the coach had seen you play at your previous middle school and graciously accepted you after giving you a chance to play a practice game with the rest of the team. The girls were amazing and you found yourself right at home with them - something you were thankful for since you weren’t looking forward to making friends from scratch.
You knew the boy’s volleyball team at Inarizaki was excellent, therefore when the captain needed someone to accompany her to run an errand to the other gym, you eagerly volunteered. You hadn’t had a chance to see them in action and were dying to get a peek at their practice to see just how good they were.
An orange court identical to the one the girls practised in greeted your eyes as you both stepped in the building and your captain turned to you upon entering the gym.
“Just wait here while I go talk to their coach!”
You nodded and curiously began to watch the practice. The familiar sounds of sneakers squeaking and balls hitting the floor put you at ease and a starstruck expression crossed your face as you saw a tall, darker-skinned boy spike.
“Oi.”
Another boy with a leaner figure and slanted eyes spiked with a weird twist to his form and your eyes widened. That was unusual. Impressive.
“Oi.”
I KNOW someone is NOT trying to get my attention by saying ‘Oi’. Who is this uncouth-
You turned to see a boy with yellow hair and an unamused expression on his face.
“Yes?” you said sweetly.
“Cheerleading tryouts aren’t in this gym,” he said shortly.
The fuck?
Okay, technically you and your captain were wearing ponytail holders with ribbons in Inarizaki colours and you both hadn’t changed out of your regular PE tracksuit, so you could maybe see where he might have gotten that.
“Excuse me?”
“This is a volleyball court.” He spoke in a tone that implied that you were a bit slow.
No shit Sherlock. “I’m not looking for tryouts.”
He groaned in exasperation and put his hands on his hips. “Well if you’re looking to watch our practice, we can’t have an audience today. We’re going over some serious stuff and don’t need any distractions.” He turned and left you with your hand half raised and mouth open before you could respond.
“These pigs just think they can crash practice when they don’t even care about volleyball…”
Pigs.
Pigs??
Who the fuck does he think he is?? This little-
Okay, you know what, breathe y/n. Don’t do anything rash. Remember what your therapist said.
You felt a faint tap on your foot and looked down to see a stray volleyball had rolled over to you.
I really shouldn’t. You thought, picking up the ball and ran a finger along the curves and dips.
This is a bad idea. You tossed the ball in the air.
Well, when life gives you lemons. You hopped and felt a satisfying smack as you hit the ball towards the back wall.
Now, the intention was to hit the area beside the offensive boy and give him a little scare, however you forgot that your hits tended to curve a bit (a problem you were trying to fix).
So you watched, horrified, as the ball flew straight towards the boy.
It was almost like the trajectory itself was in slow motion but sped up as it impacted and there was a dull thud sound as it hit his back.
“OW!”
He turned around, eyes flashing and mouth curled angrily.
“Oh god I’m so sorry.”
Is what you meant to say. But you had your pride and also had kind of already committed to going down this path.
“L/n y/n,” you said, matching his glare. “[insert favourite vball position here]. Nice to meet you.”
The noises from the gym all halted and the air was still as the other members of the team stared at the scene.
The boy with the slanted yellow eyes and middle parted hair snorted which prompted the boy beside him to begin laughing as well. You were stunned to see the same face except framed with grey hair.
There’s another one??
There was a sudden ‘eep’ noise and you felt someone rush over beside you. “Oh my goodness I’m so sorry.”
Your captain grabbed the back of your head and wrenched your head down into a bow. “We’re so sorry. RIGHT?”
You yelped when you paused and she sharply tugged on one ear.
“Yes, my apologies.” You muttered.
The girl dragged you out of the gym berating you but sighed and ran a hand down her face as you recounted what had happened.
“Honestly I guess I can’t blame you too much. That was Miya Atsumu.”
“Oooh he’s one of the Miya twins.” They were first-years like you but already quite famous around the school.
She nodded. “Osamu is fairly nice but Atsumu is known for being…difficult.”
You snorted. “Seems like it.”
“He’s a damn good setter though,” she continued.
“Still,” you frowned. “This sport is about teamwork. You can’t be too difficult or else the team can’t function.”
“Agreed,” she said before narrowing her eyes and looking at you from the side. “Though I’ll make you eat your words if that temper of yours makes an appearance on our team.”
You shuddered before walking quickly ahead of her back to the girls’ gym.
—-------------------------------------------------------
After that, your interactions with Atsumu Miya didn’t get much better.
It didn’t help that he was in the class next door to yours. Everytime you met in the halls (which happened a good amount of times during the week) snide remarks were exchanged.
“Oh look, it's the school’s kpop star,” you said drily when you exited the classroom for lunch and found yourself, yet again, in front of him. “Raaah raah.”
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Don’t you expect to hear crowd noises everywhere you go? You’re always strutting around like you’re the shit and eating up the attention people give you. Well until they start messing with your serves,” you smirked. “It’s too bad you aren’t good enough to not be so easily distracted.”
He looked at his twin beside him. “I told you, squealing pigs.”
“At least I don’t go around grunting like a giant ape.”
The lanky boy whose name you learned was Suna tried to hide a snicker behind his hand.
“Well I almost didn't give someone a CONCUSSION.”
“Oh please,” you turned away from him and waved your hand in a shooing motion. “Your head is too thick to get a concussion.”
“Tch more like your spike is too weak for it.”
“What did you say??” You whipped back around only for a teammate of yours to magically materialise and drag you away by the collar. News of your ostensible assault to Atsumu had spread amongst both teams and your incredible dislike for him was well-known by now.
“I fucking dare you to show up to practice Miya and see for yourself it that’s true!”
“Hai hai that’s enough,” your teammate said tiredly and you crossed your arms, fuming, as you saw him sniggering before turning the corner.
The students in your hallway quickly became accustomed to your face-offs, opting to give you two a wide berth whenever they occurred. Suna often stopped by to film and told you he was going to make a compilation of the best 10 fights at the end of the year.
“He’s not that bad you know,” Osamu said, sipping on his drink. Your eyes rolled up to him from where you were lying down on the bench beside him.
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“He’s…passionate. With a one-track mind. I think it’s good you’re so direct to him. It’s the only way that really gets through to his stupid brain anyway.”
You laughed. “How are you guys so different?” Osamu was in your class and at first you had been wary of him - he did share Atsumu’s genes after all - but were relieved to find out he was actually super chill.
“I didn’t wanna end up like him.” He said simply and you chuckled again before frowning.
“It’s a shame…he plays beautifully though,” you said under your breath.
You didn’t notice Osamu side-eye you quickly with an eyebrow raised.
Inarizaki had one of their games recently and you were honestly a bit curious to see how the evil Miya played and also so you could see if he made any mistake for your own satisfaction. However, you had to admit that Atsumu was talented. He was reckless and got ahead of himself but his sets were perfect. Most of the time at least. They were the type that you knew spikers were itching to hit and you wondered what it’d be like to play with someone like him.
Definitely a shame.
—-------------------------------------------------
Of all things, the school’s annual fall event was the reason your relationship with Atsumu improved.
Your friend’s class was putting on a production and she asked you to help paint some of the set pieces as a few people had canceled on her last minute.
“y/nnnnn pleasseee” your friend whined.
“I spend 90% of my life at school and the one free Saturday I have YOU WANT ME TO BE AT SCHOOL?” She grinned, enthusiastically nodding.
“You got some nerve-”
“It’s not my fault my classmates are lazy…I always get stuck doing busy work” she interrupted, shooting you her best puppy eyes. You bit your tongue as you wanted to retort that it was her fault for being the class’s student rep.
You sighed. “Okay fine.”
She squealed and clapped her hands. “Perfect, meet me at 1pm.”
A pit had formed in your stomach that you couldn’t explain as you opened the door to the auditorium. When your friend spotted you, she brightened and grabbed you by the arm, dragging you behind the stage. Large set pieces that outlined what you think was a castle and some trees were set-up but you barely noticed as your eyes found an offensive figure.
Miya Atsumu turned his head to the side, flashing you his signature smile and opened his mouth.
“Nope,” you said and turned on your heel and headed back towards the front. Your friend quickly ran and stood in front of you.
“What is Miya doing here??”
“Apparently he and Osamu crashed into the principal while they were racing to the cafeteria and knocked him down so he’s forcing him to help out as punishment.
“Why is he the only one in there? Where’s Osamu??”
“Technically Atsumu is the one who knocked the teacher over. Osamu managed to skirt away in time so he wasn’t seen.”
You groaned. “I can’t do this. Honestly, we might end up ruining your scenery fighting or something.”
She glared at you. “You wouldn’t dare.”
You winced as she stared at you for a moment with a pensive expression on her face.
“What?”
“Maybe you should hang out with him. Both of you play volleyball…just talk about that.”
“I don’t want to talk to him period.”
She snorted and said, “Just be open-minded. And don’t kill each other. Or destroy my set pieces.” She quickly added at the end.
“No promises.”
You walked back and went straight to the paint rollers, blatantly ignoring the heavy gaze trained on you. Picking it up, you went to the end of the half-painted castle furthest away from him and began to roll.
Atsumu raised an eyebrow. “That side is done.”
You didn’t say anything and scooted a little to where it was unpainted.
“I don’t bite.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me if you did.”
“Shouldn’t I be more afraid of you?”
You glared at him and instead began to talk to one of the other people painting beside you. There were only three others and they had been fairly quiet at the hostile energy radiating between you two.
However, Atsumu remained eerily quiet as he worked on his set piece and as you focused on yours, you found that time passed fairly quickly. You were finishing up and went to get another paint bucket when you blanched upon seeing Atsumu’s work.
“Oh my god please don’t tell me this is all you’ve accomplished.”
“This is harder than it looks!” He said defensively and you bit back a laugh. When he had whipped around to retort, he revealed that he had paint smudged on one of his cheeks as well as a bit of splatter on his shirt.
“It’s straight lines Miya. I know you act like an ape but I didn’t expect you to have a monkey brain too.”
He opened his mouth with an indignant face but stopped when you stood beside him.
“The lines go this way - see then it looks like bricks.” You brushed lightly on the cardboard.
Atsumu looked at you, eyes wandering around your facial features. He’d never seen you up this close before and without a scrunched up expression on it. Your elbows were almost touching and he frowned.
“She’s pretty ya know.” Osamu grinned as if he knew a secret. It pissed Atsumu to see that expression on his face.
“So what? She’s mean and bitchy.”
“Oh c’mon. It’s partly your fault she acts that way too. She can be sweet sometimes.”
“L/n. Sweet. Right.”
“What, you don’t want my help?” You felt your hackles raise at his frown.
He shook his head. Your eyes were lit with a bright fire - not necessarily one that was hostile but rather with a lively quality in them - and the stage lights cast shadows across the planes of your face in a way that made you look both glowing and vibrant.
Pretty.
His eyes widened slightly and he shook his head a bit to get out of his daze. He must be crazy. The fumes from the paint had probably made him a bit high and out of his mind. Right?
—---------------------------------------------------
After that, your relationship with Atsumu seemed to improve. Your face-offs slowly became more light-hearted and you both began to chat about volleyball, schoolwork, how Osamu and Suna bully him and on and on. He was surprisingly funny and by that, he was easy to tease and rile up. The two of you still fought but it was more so bickering over whether horror movies were better than action movies rather than actual malice.
He’d come to watch a few of your practices and even began going to games if he’d finish his first. You’d find him, arms leaning against the railings of the second-floor seats and a shit-eating grin gracing his lips. You groaned internally when you saw the flash of blonde in the corner of your eye but refused to take your eyes off the service.
There was a yell from the stands. “In!”
You froze momentarily watching the ball hit just outside the line.
“Out!” The referee called.
“ATSUMU MIYA.”
You whipped your head to the offensive boy and mouthed an aggressive “GET OUT.”
All you got in response were mini finger hearts.
Mentally facepalming, you turned your attention back to the game and grumbled about him being lucky that this was just a practice match. You’d definitely get back at him on the walk home later.
Yes, indeed, Atsumu had begun to walk you home. He’d wave Osamu off and claim that he needed to walk off his post-practice high and it was getting darker quickly now anyway and he couldn’t make fun of you if you died on the way home. Most of the time, you guys continued the bickering from the day and joked about stupid things, and sometimes, when practice ran late deep into the night, the two of you would just walk side-by-side in comfortable silence.
And honestly, being friends with Atsumu Miya was nice.
—--------------------------------------------------
Unfortunately, your heart betrayed you and you could pinpoint the moment it did.
You were watching the boys play a match and Osamu had gone in for a spike only to change it into a set straight to Aran. Atsumu looked stunned momentarily before he let out a boisterous laugh. The sound was just like a child’s - a refreshing sound full of joy and pure amusement - and you could practically feel his adrenaline amp up another notch.
Aran scored the point (ofc) and the team gave each other excited high fives before the buzzer rang, signalling the other team calling a time out. You watched him chatter away upon reaching the sidelines and Aran gave him a slap on the back in annoyance while Suna shook his head. You chuckled at their antics but your smile slowly faded as your eyes found the blonde setter again.
The slight chill from the stadium’s A/C,
the feel of your hand gripping the end of a yellow cone,
the excited chatter of your classmates beside you,
the itch at the end of your fingertips to hold that blue and yellow sphere.
You felt your heart beat painfully when you heard Atsumu’s laugh again.
If you learned anything about Atsumu, it was that he was passionate and wore emotions on his sleeve. Life was simple for him - he said what he was thinking and unashamedly acted the way he felt. When he was elated, his joy was infectious and his face would shine excitedly about some new cool thing he pulled off. He was blunt, but honest and you felt a sense of trust in him because of it.
And he had his kind moments.
Once, he found you sitting on the lowest bleacher in an empty gym after a match when your team had lost a crucial game to qualify for the quarterfinals.
Your eyes blankly stared at the ground as you absentmindedly spun a volleyball in your hands.
“You guys put up a good fight.”
You snorted in response. “I could’ve done more.”
“The team worked hard - you worked hard all year. Just get better and kick ass in the fall.”
“Yeah I tried my best and all it got me was there. I made so many mistakes.” You shook your head. “I should have hustled after more balls…I missed the timing on a few blocks…geez,” you inhaled sharply and leaned back on your hands. “I feel so incompetent. What have I been doing this entire time?”
“Hey I didn’t stay after all those sessions just for you to complain they didn’t help.”
You wrinkled your forehead. “Sorry, that’s fair.” Looking up, you gazed into his warm brown eyes, you smiled softly. “Thank you for helping me.”
He stared at you hard for a moment before turning his head away. “This just means I’m forcing you to train harder next year.”
You groaned. “For fucks sake.”
“But really,” he continued. “You aren’t incompetent. You’re like - you’re good.” He said a bit lamely before hesitantly continuing. “You’re good at volleyball, get good grades and get along with people easily. You’re better than most of these scrubs by far.”
“And I’m pretty.” You swept your hair over your shoulder jokingly.
There was a pause. “And you’re pretty.”
“Not to gas you up or anything,” he quickly added.
You giggled, ignoring the sudden increased palpitation in your chest before responding, “Aw since when is Atsumu Miya a sweetie.”
“Shut up, I take it back.” He stood up and plucked the ball from your hands. “C’mon you need to practice serving.”
You narrowed your eyes. “My shoulder hurts.”
“Yeah and your serves sucked so let’s go.”
You were pulled back into the game when the crowd surrounding you stood up, roaring in delight after Suna whipped a point in. Atsumu punched the air, roaring with them and you felt your chest squeeze painfully.
Oh god.
—--------------------------------------------------
Just as you came to terms with how you felt, things soured with the blonde Miya.
Atsumu was passionate and wore his heart on his sleeve. This meant that when he was upset, he was upset. Essentially he turned into a stubborn child.
You were hesitating to open the door because you hadn’t talked to Atsumu in weeks. You were just as stubborn as him and maintained it wasn’t your fault. Both your heads would turn the other way and there was no more bickering - just an icy silence.
And it all started with a stupid bet.
Atsumu had been teasing you for weeks about how someone seemed to daydream more during class recently and it seemed to result in him somehow getting a higher grade than you on a quiz. In response, you shot back that you’d beat him at midterms.
“Okay bet,” he said easily.
“And if I win,” he crossed his arms and tilted his head with a smirk. “You have to wear the Inarizaki cheerleader uniform AND yell ‘GO ATSUMU’ during our game.”
You looked at him unamused. “I thought you didn’t like people distracting you.”
“During my serves. Do NOT do it during my serve,” his face darkened.
“Okay okay moody. But if I win,” an evil look crossed your face. “You have to do the same thing.”
Suna’s eyes widened. “I would literally pay money to see that.”
Atsumu’s eyebrows raised. “You want me to yell ‘GO ATSUMU’?”
You blinked at him in response. “This will be so easy.”
“The pom poms would look so small,” mumbled Suna quietly as Atsumu yelped indignantly.
Your eyelids pressed shut.
I’m so done with the boy’s volleyball team at this school.”
However, what you didn’t know was that Atsumu, though lacking in other areas, was fairly good at math when he tried. This, and the lack of sleep you claimed to have, resulted in him scoring a lousy 2 points above you.
Hence you stood in a uniform, pom–poms in hand and a bow in your hair at the game that would qualify Inarizaki for the fall tournament.
“Suna, please tell me you got this on camera.”
The tall boy waved his phone up. “Oh yeah, with many different angles of her scrunched up angry face. You know-,” He leaned down, hands placed in his pockets, to your eye level. “You’d be prettier if you smiled.”
Your eyes narrowed into slits. “Suna Rintaro you did not just say that. It’s so offensive and plays into traditional gender roles and on behalf of all girls I should-”
“Ap-buh-uh,” his slanted eyes turned upward into crescent moons as he straightened with an easy smile. “Just a joke, princess. You genuinely look good.”
You huffed in annoyance. “I look good in anything.”
You waited for a comment from the annoying setter beside Suna but just found him blinking at you.
“What are you doing?”
“Enjoying the moment,” he said with an oh so innocent smile.
“Creep.”
“Hey I’m not the one who stinks at math.” He threw his hands up in defence.
“TWO POINTS MIYA,” you moved to smack the back of his head and he dodged easily before speed walking down the hall.
“Oh what’s that I think we have to go warm-up,” he exclaimed loudly before smirking. “Don’t forget to cheer me on.”
“UGH.” You sighed in defeat.
“So when are you confessing your undying love for him?”
You squawked at Suna in protest. “I do not - I- it’s Atsumu - he -”
“I got it, breathe y/n,” he ruffled your hair and gave you a peace sign in farewell before walking off after Atsumu.
“Cheer for your guy loudly Ms. Cheerleader.”
You huffed and you felt a hand slip into yours. Your head spun before you relaxed, recognising one of the regular cheerleaders behind you. She had been kind enough to lend you her spare uniform and teach you some of the cheers.
“Y/n we have to get to our seats!”
“Yay,” you said. Your voice fell flat despite trying to sound enthusiastic.
She laughed and began to tug you into the gym. “Aw c’mon, you look gorgeous. Your boyfriend must be pumped to have you cheer for him!”
“He isn’t my boyfriend.”
“Hmm sure,” she said and made a knowing face at you.
“He isn’t!”
“Oh look, they're warming up. Let’s go to our seats before they start.”
And so you let yourself chant along with the girls beside you, throwing up your pom poms a little late but trying your best nonetheless. Atsumu was on fire as usual, syncing perfectly with Suna and Aran. Osamu made a few service errors, but you knew that he had been a bit ill the past few days. Some of your friends from the volleyball team even joined you and all of you screamed your support from the stands.
Finally the match came to an end and naturally Inarizaki won. You were so proud of the team and as they went around to high-five the other team your friend turned to you.
“y/n, we’re going to the mall to hang out after. Wanna join us?”
You nodded absent-mindedly, your gaze fixed upon the team below. “I think I can join you later. I want to say hi to the boys before I go.”
She giggled. “Of course, gotta see Atsumu before you go.”
“Hey! I want to see Osamu and Suna too!”
She simply laughed. “You’re practically bouncing in your seat. Hurry up and go say bye, we can wait for you outside.”
You nodded in response and took off towards the locker room. Normally, the guys would have a brief talk before changing and Atsumu would be standing outside, a smile on his face and with a slight wave of his hand. You’d thought about changing first to spare yourself from his teasing but honestly, you secretly thought you looked kinda cute in the uniform and wanted him to see you in it again.
A sudden hand clamped around your wrist before you could make it down the corridor and you turned your head in confusion, locking eyes with a stranger. You recognised him as one of the players on the opposing team.
“What the hell are you doing?” You nearly squawked.
“I couldn’t help but notice you in the stands today and was wondering why our side didn’t have any supporters as gorgeous as you,” he said with a wink.
“Thanks for the compliment but please don’t touch me.”
“I saw you with the team before the game too. You’re a popular girl~”
“So what?” Trying to calm your rising panic and you attempted to rip your arm away from him but his grip was too strong.
“What’s wrong? You seem to be already whoring yourself out to them so what’s the problem with one more.”
“Fuck you,” you spit and thrashed against him. You reached your other hand up to slap his face but found yourself pinned against the lockers.
Your eyes widened as he leaned his face toward you with a fake smile plastered on your face. The feeling of being so helpless made your blood run cold and you froze, unable to understand what was actually going on. You closed your eyes, bracing yourself to headbutt him when you heard a loud crack. Your eyes snapped open and you saw the boy holding his cheek and a fuming Atsumu was standing in front of him. You felt a pair of gentle arms slowly pull you away from the two and you looked up to see Suna had wrapped his arms lightly around you, his gaze flatly looking at the other boy.
“Are you okay?” he murmured.
You nodded faintly but you were focused on Atsumu’s face. His face - you had never seen any expression even close to that. Fury was radiating from him as he roughly shoved the boy against the locker and raised his arm again.
You wrenched yourself free from Suna’s grip and ran to stand by Atsumu.
“That’s enough Atsumu!” You gripped the arm that he had balled into a fist. “I’m okay.”
“Miya look at me!” you said when he didn’t reply. “Please!”
He finally dragged his eyes away from the boy and you shivered as he focused his glare on you.
“It’s fine,” you repeated softly and he thankfully put his arm down.
“He isn’t worth you getting kicked off the team,” you continued firmly and Atsumu finally let go of the boy whose face had gone white as Osamu showed up. The trio stood angrily in front of him and you realised in that moment they were quite intimidatingly big.
“Don’t show your face in front of us again or I’ll beat the shit out of you,” Atsumu spit.
“C’mon Atsumu,” Osamu pushed his twin away and roughly pushed him in the direction opposite of the player.
“Don’t touch me,” he said growling.
“Atsumu,” you began cautiously as you trailed after him outside the exit doors. “Atsumu is your hand okay?”
“Just what the fuck were you doing?”
“Excuse me?”
“Why were you just standing there? Why the hell were you not fighting back?”
“I was fighting back!” you said, eyes flashing in anger. “I just froze up for a second! Heaven forbid I was fucking scared.”
He shook his head as if your words were bouncing off of him. “How stupid are you? You’re always doing this - not taking care of yourself and acting all airheaded and zoning out. It’s a goddamn chore to watch out for you!”
“Nobody asked you to watch out for me,” your voice increased to match his.
“Maybe if you stopped daydreaming like an idiot you’d start playing like an actual decent player instead of just sleeping on the court. Hell maybe your team would be able to stop being shit enough to fucking qualify for nationals for once.”
“Dude that’s enough,” Osamu looked at him incredulously.
You took a step back. Atsumu knew better than anyone else how hard on yourself you are, especially about volleyball. You had been overstressed recently as your grades were suffering because you kept staying so late to keep practising and you felt like you were drowning trying to balance everything.
Your arms came up to wrap themselves around you protectively.
The anger drained out of his face almost comically fast. “Y/n,” he said, a hint of fear on his face.
You started to back away and shrugged nonchalantly.
“No no, you know what you’re right,” you hated how your voice came out shakily. “It’s my fault that someone harassed ME, it’s MY fault our team keeps losing, and it’s MY damn fault that I’m not strong enough to have it together all the time.”
“Y/n that’s not what I mea-.”
“No, that's exactly what you were saying,” you said, cutting him off. “Fuck you Atsumu.” Tears pricked at your eyes and you blinked them away, refusing to let him see you cry.
“Y/n? Is everything okay?”
The group of you all shifted to see your friends cautiously looking at you. “We heard yelling and you never came out so we were worried.”
“Yep,” you said, attempting to sound cheerful. “Everything’s good. Let’s go, I’m finished here.”
“y/n,” Atsumu said with a hint of desperation in his voice.
“I’ll see you guys around.” You couldn’t bring yourself to look at any of the boys and simply sped off towards your friends.
“That was a low blow,” Osamu shook his head.
Atsumu stared after your retreating figure before groaning and banged his fist against the locker. “I’m so fucked.”
—------------------------------
And that’s the last time you really talked to Atsumu. He made multiple attempts to talk to you in school but always found you surrounded by your friends. They looked at him reproachfully and you were grateful to have such great people supporting you. He tried to confront you a couple of times before and after practice but your captain always made sure to kick him out of the gym and after you would practically sprint home before the boys’ had finished their practice.
“He’s pretty hostile nowadays,” Osamu sighed from beside you. He’d found you hiding on the rooftop during lunch one day.
“What a surprise.”
“He’s beating himself up for it for sure though.”
“Miya, are you defending your brother for once,” you tried to joke.
“I dunno,” he leaned against his arms behind him. “You know how he gets. He’s an ass for sure but he was so worried that day. I’m not sure I blame him entirely though. It’d be infuriating to see anyone in that position. Let alone the girl he -” he paused. “Let alone our friend.”
There was a silence long enough you felt Osamu glancing at you repeatedly.
You really weren’t upset with Atsumu. At first, you were admittedly a bit scared of him - you’d never seen that side of him before. BUt you realised that it was probable that the anger was never directed at you. He defended you without a second thought and likely risked a suspension. Atsumu had supported you these past few months and had been a good, albeit kind of annoying, friend. He had his moments - enough so that you had fallen for him. Was it fair that you cut him out of your life?
“I miss him.” you admitted and tucked your knees against your chest. “I don’t really know how to talk to him though. I just keep hearing his words and I’m scared, like what if he loses his temper and says something hurtful again.”
Osamu nodded. “I can’t promise ‘Tsumu won’t get mad again or say something hurtful and you definitely shouldn’t have to deal with it or make excuses for him. But he cares for you a lot and he doesn’t know how to be concerned since he’s emotionally stupid.”
“Also,” he finally added. “Ma beat him with a spoon when she found out what happened so the likelihood of him doing it again seems very low.”
You giggled. “Aw Mama Miya putting the fear of god in her boys.”
“Mama Miya is very scary.” Osamu made a face. “She’s probably the only person Atsumu will listen to.”
Your giggles rang out across the rooftop and Osamu huffed in amusement. As the sounds faded, your eyebrows drew together. You just needed time. You’d get over his words - they were empty after all - but until you could just see him for the boy you liked again, it’d be better to take a break from seeing him.
—----------------------------------------------------------
A few months passed and Atsumu largely left you alone after a while. You could still feel his eyes on you if he passed by your classroom and you gave quick nods in his direction when you waved at Osamu and Suna.
And then suddenly, here you found yourself after a game, knowing that he was probably in a shitty mood and asking yourself if you were willing to have him lash out at you again. The men’s volleyball team had gone to nationals and lost at the quarterfinals. You had given him a quick good luck after you stopped by to check on Osamu and Suna before the game but had screamed your lungs out cheering him on during the matches. You were shocked and your heart dropped when they lost after fighting so hard to break the tie.
You knew he was taking it hard and would be blaming himself for everything.
How is he? You’d texted Osamu.
Not good. We’re leaving him alone.
Yikes is he being hard on you guys?
Nah tbh he’s p down and not saying much.
The corners of your lips turned downward as you stared at the text. Before you knew it, your feet had led you to the team where they had directed you here.
You took a deep breath and opened the door praying Atsumu was still in there. He was your friend, the guy you had fallen for, and a source of comfort for you when you were having a tough time. It didn’t even matter if he had harsh words - you wanted to be there for him.
The tall blonde was sitting on the bench, his arms bracing his back, and a towel covering his face.
“‘Tsumu.”
No response.
“‘Tsumu.” You called again, standing in front of him.
“Not a good time, princess.”
You reached a shaky hand out to place on his shoulder.
You heard him inhale and a warm hand lifted to cover yours. The other came up to place itself on your hip and his head lolled forward onto your stomach. Your unoccupied hand gently began to rub small circles on his back.
It oddly felt relaxing in that position and you didn’t feel anxious. It reminded you of those quiet walks home where there was a muted comfort between the two of you.
“I’m not going to tell you ‘it's just one of those days’ and anybody gets them. While it’s true, you aren’t ‘anybody’. The standard for you is high - you set it yourself after all. But you always pull through.” You gave a little laugh. “You’re a great guy. That’s why all the people in your life stick with you no matter how callous and insensitive you can get.” You rolled back the towel so you could see his face.
“You too?” His eyes peered intensely into yours.
“Yep. Me too.”
“M’sorry,” he said in a low voice. “Please don’t be mad anymore.”
“I’m not,” you said, your face softening but then frowned. “But I’m not sure if I forgive you yet.”
“I’ll take whatever I can get.” He half-heartedly gave you a crooked smile.
“Dummy,” you shook your head, “I missed you.”
He laughed, getting up and pulling you into a hug. The two of you stood, smiling idiotically at each other.
“Is this a bad time to mention that Suna says you have a crush on me.”
“What???”
You tried to untangle yourself from him but he merely squeezed you tightly in response.
“Take all the time you need. Just let me know when it’s okay to ask you out properly, alright?”
You groaned and buried your face into his chest.
“Okay? Hello y/n are you there? y/n?”
“Fine, shut up, I'll let you know.”
Fin.
#for the record#i love cheerleading#not roasting them#im just a volleyball player#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu scenarios#atsumu angst#atsumu miya x reader#atsumu miya#hq atsumu#osamu miya#inarizaki#suna rintaro#haikyuu angst#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu fic
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BREAKING UP WITH ATSUMU
This was not how you'd pictured your vacation.
You stormed ruefully down the marble steps. Your footsteps echoed, and so did the sob that tore out of you as you whirled around, facing the man who so urgently shadowed you.
"I can explain," his eyes were wild, coiffed hair desperately messy, hands gesturing wildly. "Please. Please, I beg. Just— let me explain, okay baby? I'll get on my knees. Just hear me out, okay baby?"
Atsumu sure knows how to put on an act, you realized.
All this time, you'd known he was theatrical. You just hadn't expected his performance to be so good.
"You, you beg me?" The fresh wave of tears surging stung your skin, sensitive from the millions of tears you had already shed. "That might just be the most ridiculous thing you've said tonight."
You'd thought you were playing the role of a lover. You see now you've been given the role of a fool.
Three months ago, when Atsumu showed you the reservation he'd made — a five star resort, the most luxurious spa package available, private pool access, a whole suite for the two of you — you thought he was bringing you here to propose to you.
It had all checked out. You've been living together for a couple of years, he loved your family and they loved him, and — perhaps the most soul-baring of them all — you had just told him your deepest, darkest secret. I used to be cyber bullied, you told him, blushing because you didn't want him to think that something was wrong with you, like that anonymous bastard did.
I was bullied really badly.
So badly that you had stopped going to school for the rest of the year. So badly that for the rest of high school, you took online classes for a graduation certificate instead. So badly that you'd suffered so many violent panic attacks, anxiety attacks, and nightmares that you contemplated ending things.
The next day, Atsumu had surprised you with a large envelope in his hands.
So yeah, you thought he was about to propose. Not in a million years did you think Atsumu was bringing you here to confess all these years later that he had been the bully. The one who sent all things demeaning and hateful to your inbox, the one who humiliated you for the whole school to like and comment and retweet and reblog.
"I—"
"No," you spit. "You don't get to talk to me."
Your mother had cried on your behalf. Your father had gotten on his knees at the police station so they would pursue the case seriously.
"I just one thing to say," Atsumu says breathlessly. "I know I'm an absolute piece of shit. The worst. I can't even begin ta explain or make amends, ever. I know,..."
You'd prayed for revenge. And here, finally, the opportunity presented itself.
Fate took weird twists and turns, but in the end, you came out on top.
Because you knew his vulnerable spot. You knew Atsumu had a violent fear of being abandoned.
His mother had left when he was in junior high, leaving him and his brother to fend for themselves. His father was emotionally distant for most of his life. His brother had deserted their dream of pro-volleyball to become a chef, and though Atsumu spoke heartily of Miya Onigiri, you knew that deep down, the betrayal still stung.
You used to think that Atsumu's suffering was precocious, that his terror of being left behind was a sign of his humility. Now you thought it was simply a by product of being so wholly self-obsessed, of being dangerously self-entrenched.
"...just wanta let ya know. I love you. I can't undo the past—"
"That's right," you said coldly. "You can't undo the past, but I can fill in the future. I don't want to see you ever again."
Suddenly the air tore, sounding like a paper ripping in half.
Where the hell was this sound coming from? Atsumu felt like he couldn't breathe. He sunk to his knees, clutching his throat.
He looked up at you with wide eyes, clutching his throat. How could you be so composed when he was dying?
You stood still, wiping the last of your tears coolly. "Oh, you're fine," you told him. "You're only having a little panic attack. And you know what? You deserve it." You turned on your heel to leave.
"Wait!" Atsumu managed to rasp. "Wait!" He was crying, he realized. Salty tears dropped from the tip of his nose, leapt from the edge of his jawline. "Ya can be mad at me, ya can hate me, ya can want to kill me, but ya can't leave me! Ya can't not need me anymore! Ya can't go," his voice cracked.
You became a silhouette, then a speck, and then part of the horizon.
"She'll come back," he whispered to himself as a mantra. "She'll come back. She'll come back. She'll come back. She'll —" something was digging sharply into his backside. The pain managed to somewhat snap him out of his trance.
Atsumu pulled out a velvet box from his back pocket.
#haikyuu#haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x y/n#haikyuu x you#miya atsumu#hq atsumu#atsumu x you#atsumu x y/n#atsumu x reader#atsumu angst#atsumu drabble#haikyuu angst
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L, pro athlete atsumu and reader for "the only kind of girl they see is a one night or a wife" has me THINKING
ONE NIGHT OR A WIFE (a. miya)
a/n: pro athlete atsumu, implied woman identifying reader -> slight talks of womanhood and slut-shaming, atsumu is trying so hard he has the spirit he’s just ken
L’s MIDNIGHTS EVENT!
When the front door clicks behind you, you're greeted with the back of a messy blonde mop peeking from above the lip of the couch. Atsumu doesn't have to turn around to know it's you coming through the door, but you don't even give him a chance to guess with the immediate interrogation flying from your lips.
"Why are we trending on Twitter?"
Amused, Atsumu turns around to catch a glimpse of your panicked face before he smirks, turning around and redirecting his attention back to the television.
"Oh, they think I proposed to you again."
His words oddly bring a wave of comfort over you, and when you exhale and plop down on the cushion next to his sprawled-out limbs, he lets his hand gently run through your frizzy hair.
And you don't pretend to ignore how it's weird that this calms you—that enough people on the internet typed and searched and chatted about the two of you to get it trending. How many people need to talk about something for it to trend worldwide? You think about googling it, but that's a headache waiting to happen.
Instead, you slump into his touch and try to keep your tone humorous when you ask, "On what grounds this time?"
Atsumu is now far from affected by the newlywed allegation, as this isn't the first (or second) time the media thinks he's popped the question to you. You always feel a bit warm when remembering the first time the rumor spiraled. How flustered he was, how he couldn’t meet your eye when opening the app for weeks, how it led to your first actual conversation about a future together.
Now immune to the gossip, he casually fishes for his phone in his sweatpants and lazily pulls up a paparazzi photo of the two of you leaving dinner a few nights ago.
"Here," he hands the screen to you, borderline yawning. “This picture from the other night,” he has the audacity to point knowingly, like it’s common sense when he says, "left hand is hidden in yer jacket pocket."
You guess he is right, your left hand is tucked away into your coat in the photo, but that's because it's almost winter, and you're human, despite what some may argue.
The photo itself isn't even anything crazy—a candid shot of the two of you walking to the car. Atsumu's hand is on your back, seemingly guiding you as you walk along the curb. Your right hand rests on your purse, and your left apparently hides a flashy diamond ring in the suede of your pocket.
Atsumu hears you scoff at the stupidity, "So naturally that means I'm your wife now?"
He smiles and scratches your head with loving fingers.
"Yup," he pops the last part of the word before looking over to you with a grin. "Apparently the rock was so big, it had to be hidden in fear of blindin' the paparazzi."
He’s teasing, it’s lighthearted, but your eyes don't leave the photo when you softly furrow your brow.
"Why do they keep assuming we're engaged?" you lowly mumble, to him or yourself, Atsumu doesn't know, but he hears it all the same. Your voice almost wavers when you weakly exhale, "This is like the fourth time."
Carefully, as if you’re suddenly made of glass, Atsumu pulls the phone from your grasp, and you don't put up a fight when he easily swipes it and shimmies it back into his pocket.
"Dunno baby,” his voice whispers as his hand finds your shoulder. “People like to talk. I can't even begin to name the craziest rumors I've heard about me."
You hum to let him know you're listening, but when you don't elaborate much more than that, Atsumu knows something isn't quite right.
Not one to let his thoughts spiral, he thinks for all about two seconds before deciding that he’s getting to the bottom of this.
He tries to act like a normal person, stretching his arms and casually asking, "Does it bother you or somethin’?"
You're quiet for a moment like you're thinking extra hard about what to say. And when you do take a deep inhale and open your mouth, Atsumu feels a bit queasy.
"In a way," is all you allow to come out.
In a way? Atsumu doesn't know what to do with that. That could mean a million things. In what way? A good one? A terrible one? A way that makes you mad at him, at the world, at yourself? He needs more from you, but he’s too afraid to ask.
You think a part of you breaks when his big brown eyes water a bit, but the tears are quickly blinked away through long lashes when he shakes his head.
"I—I'm sorry. I didn't know you felt that way."
You shift to sit up on your knees a bit, gently touching his jaw that's clenched to the touch. "Hey, hey no,” you watch him tilt his sour face away from you when you coo, “Not like that, don't apologize."
With the slightest pressure on his cheek, you're able to get him to face you again, where you're met with a grouchy pout and some slight hostility.
You feel his jaw twitch and unclench when you place a delicate kiss on the carved bone. Your voice is soft, cautious when it rises to elaborate.
"People thinking we're married isn't what bothers me," you gently breathe. "We've talked about it, right? We're just not ready yet."
True, he thinks, logic returning to his clouded thoughts. Atsumu nods at your words, though his eyebrows are still downturned with stress.
"Right. So what does bother ya about it?"
He watches you open and close your mouth a few times, trying to find the right way to say the right words, but there really isn't a tailored combination for the sticky conversation at hand. He almost thinks you give up until your hand tenderly rubs his stiff neck and your voice comes out barely a whisper.
"It can be tough sometimes," your voice wavers with uncertainty, "y'know, being a woman associated with someone like you."
Atsumu turns his head to you in confusion, but he doesn't say anything. Because he trusts you—he might not understand, but he trusts that you do, that you're aware of something he might not be, and that you can explain it in a way he might be able to grasp.
He watches you shy in the slightest, struggling in silence with your tongue.
"I'm either slut shamed for being someone just fucking you or written off as your property. There's never really an in-between, y’know?" you choose to shrug.
Atsumu shoots you a sympathetic tight-lipped smile because though he'd never agree, he's not stupid. He knows what people can say about you, sees the headlines and hashtags every now and then.
"Y'know," his voice comes uncharacteristically soft, "one time I read that I flunked out of high school."
Your eyebrows raise at the turn in conversation, "Did you?"
"No," he scoffs. "Wasn't a nerd or anythin' but I graduated like everybody else."
You hum in thought at his confession, but it doesn’t seem to get his point across so he continues. "One said I was on steroids, another said pills."
He takes a small amount of pride in the way your frown slightly quirks up at the corners.
"Please,” you huff out a breathy scoff, “you pout like a baby when you get your blood drawn and can barely keep up with your daily vitamins."
He fights off a smile, ignoring the teasing and resting his head on yours as he goes on.
"My favorite was that one theory that me and 'Samu switch lives regularly. Sometimes when I look a little pudgy, they claim it's him with bleached hair, so we can both live out the Olympic dream."
You actually laugh at that, a real one, and Astumu thinks the sound itself could make flowers bloom and storm clouds disperse.
"Well that one can't be true, you can't cook for shit," he hears you mumble against his neck.
"Hey now," he gently smacks your thigh at your fresh words. "The point is that people say things all the damn time and I know it's not really the same as what they say about you, but..."
His tongue falters at the touchy subject, a hill he knows he’ll never conquer but is willing to die trying to defend you on.
He thinks for a moment before saying with certainty, "But we both know what's true and what isn't, right?"
You angle your neck to look up at him with sarcasm. "And what's true? That you're a healthy high school graduate with a twin brother who doesn't play Parent Trap with you?"
"What's true," he whines a bit, flicking your forehead before placing a small kiss on it, "is that I love you, and I'm absolutely marryin' you, just when the time is right."
You melt, both at his touch and his words, and for once in his life, Atsumu knows he's said the right thing when he feels you lean onto him a bit more. He takes on the comfortable weight like an Olympic medal, one he’d proudly wear everywhere if he could.
And as Atsumu goes on and on, your night gets that much better, and the silly rumor from some stupid tabloid doesn’t seem nearly as important as it did when you first got home.
"And yer ring is gonna be bigger than whatever the paparazzi imagined. And they'll be pissed when they find out we eloped and they missed the ceremony pics. And when we actually trend on Twitter for the right reason—"
#L’s MIDNIGHTS EVENT!#atsumu x reader#atsumu miya x reader#atsumu x you#atsumu miya x you#atsumu fluff#atsumu miya fluff#atsumu angst#atsumu miya angst#atsumu fic#atsumu miya fic
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Can you do any of the Haikyuu boys x Fem!reader, where they get into an argument (with an angst ending please🥹🥹🥹) if you can’t that’s perfectly fine <3
Haikyuu boys getting in an argument with Fem!reader, and never solve the problem.
Warnings: angst, no comfort, swearing, harsh words, cheating, heavy breakups.
Oikawa
You were such a perfect couple, at least, that's what you thought. You were so proud of him, always comforted him after losing, he cared for you, he helped you with school. It was kinda weird that he never showed you publicly, or even mentioned that he has a relationship in interviews, but those didn't matter that much to you. You were in love, right? So then, why did you find him like this?
“Oikawa how could you do this to me?” you asked him desperately trying to hear that it was just a dream. “I’m sorry, I got bored of this relationship’’ he simply replied. Your eyes widened. “Y-You got b-bored?? Oikawa Tooru, how could you? I was there to wipe your tears when you lost, and I still didn't get bored -you paused- i hoped and prayed that one day you’ll win and be happy, and I would’ve wiped those tears again because they would’ve been of joy. And you got b-bored?” you looked at him with tears running down your cheeks. “I don't need to explain myself, it’s not my fault you were dumb and got attached” and with that he simply left you there, crying all by yourself.
Atsumu
He was so full of himself tonight. His team won an official match against Karasuno, but that doesn’t give him an excuse to treat you like this.
“How about we celebrate by eating out?” you asked while he sat on your shared bed. “Nah, I'll go talk to the boys and maybe play a game or two” he said standing up from the bed. “Why don’t you celebrate with me and you celebrate with them? I was there for you in stands of all your matches”
“Y/n, they are my teammates, they are more important than you are. Plus, you are a woman, why don’t you go back in the kitchen and make me something to eat.” your face got all red and flushed, you grabbed your purse and hit him in the head with full force. “Fuck you!” you grabbed your keys and left the apartment.
You slept at your friend's house, actually, you barely slept. You waited for him to call you all night, but he never did.
Kuroo
The last few days had been very tense. You and your boyfriend Kuroo were having a lot of small arguments,about the fact that he got late home almost everyday, he wasn’t giving you enough attention, you couldn’t come to his matches, things like this. But none of the small fights ended like this one in this morning:
“All I’m saying is that you could come home earlier from practice, or at least bother to text me that you’re gonna be late, it’s like you don’t even care that I'm here waiting for you day and night!” you yell at him. “Whatever Y/n, I’m late to practice” you both knew this was a lie. But you heard him mutter under his breath “I wanted a break anyway.”
And with that, he left. He left with no goodbye, no explanation, no excuses. You felt your whole world collapsing on you. You sat with your knees to your chest, crying, hoping he will come back and tell you that he didn’t mean what he just said.
Bokuto
Today he lost another game. And he felt like it was all his fault. So why won't he blame somebody else and maybe let his anger out on that person too?
“Baby, Kou, it’s fine, it’s just a game” you get interrupted by him. “No, it’s not just a game, Y/n, it’s volleyball, everything is important about it! WELL, I MEAN HOW WOULD YOU KNOW WHEN YOU DON’T EVEN HAVE A HOBBY, YOU NEVER DO ANYTHING! ALL YOU DO IS BOTHER ME AND KEEP DISTRACTING ME FROM THE ONLY THING THAT I REALLY LOVE!!” you pause your breathing. You felt so guilty, you look down, you don’t even dare maintaining eye contact with your “boyfriend”. Tears pick at your eyes, and you cross your arms.
“Yeah, sure, cry, that’s all you can do, since you know what I just said is true.” You felt those words cut so deep, your heart broke in a million pieces.
Osamu
You never really learned how to cook, but seeing your boyfriend cook everyday made you learn a few things, so you thought you could make something special for him tonight. I mean, what could go wrong? Everything.
“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, YOU WASTED SO MUCH INGREDIENTS, AND YOU STILL FUCKING BURNED IT, HOW STUPID CAN YOU BE?!�� he yelled at you, showing you the mess you made in his kitchen. “I'm really sorry, I just wanted to make something good for you once…”
“Well, apparently you can’t, so why don't you just leave?” You looked up at him, but his gaze scared you- there was no more love in his eyes, not even a little bit. What was wrong with you, were you that hard to love?
Iwaizumi
“I love listening to you” you confess to him. “You do?” you look at him, reassuring him “Yes baby, of course i do! Even when you talk about how much you hate Oikawa, you know, i had a friend that i hated her the exact same way but-”
“Well if you like listening to me, then why do you make it about yourself?” you froze. Did you just do that? “I-” you looked into his eyes searching for his love and reassuring but where were those? “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to, you know that, right? I’m really sorry, Haji, look at me” you tried grabbing his face but he pushed your hands away. “Just leave me alone already, with your excuses and everything. I’m getting tired of this. We’re done.”
You hated yourself. That small mistake you didn’t even know you made, cost you everything.
...
Hey!! Of course I can write this! Sorry it took a long time, someone caught a cold and couldn't do it on time. Hope you liked it!
💕💕💕
#haikyuu angst#hq boys#haikyuu headcanons#hq angst#haikyuu boys#hq headcanons#oikawa tooru#oikawa x reader#oikawa angst#oikawa headcanons#miya atsumu#atsumu x reader#atsumu angst#atsumu headcanons#kuroo tetsurou#kuroo x reader#kuroo angst#kuroo headcanons#bokuto koutarou#bokuto x reader#bokuto angst#bokuto headcanons#miya osamu#osamu x reader#osamu angst#osamu headcanons#iwazumi hajime#iwaizumi x reader#iwaizumi angst#iwaizumi headcanons
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curiosity killed the cat
atsumu, f.reader. angst.
words: 2K
tags: cheating, explicit mentions of sex, brief mention of an alcoholic dad.
notes: this one is a repost from my other blog. i edited a few things, but didn't change much. we're still in the cheaters era, but this time atsumu is the shitty boyfriend.
Ever since you were a child, just old enough that you understood the world around you but not enough to know what to do about it, you had been terrified of being cheated on. The idea of entrusting your heart and soul to someone, doing everything to keep theirs safe, only for them to add yours to a collection you didn't know they had was something that kept you up at night, trembling in deep-rooted anguish.
You blamed your father, as many did when something went wrong in their lives. The man who was meant to protect you, love you and care for you. The man that made you realize, at your short 11 years, that love was nothing but fickle. You still remembered the exact moment when you had this revelation. The date or day of the week you couldn't recall, but it was evening, which meant that your father was drunk out of his mind and yelling around the house about whatever little thing had set him off that day. Like it tended to happen, his yelling was eventually directed towards your mother, wild and unsubstantiated accusations slicing and stabbing her like daggers.
And you remembered thinking, hidden behind a wall and listening to every word, six simple words that shook your view on love: It takes one to know one. A replica of something you had heard your teacher say that very same day, although in a different circumstance. The words came to mind unprompted, and suddenly everything made sense. Why else would he accuse your mother, who was devoted to your home and family, of cheating if it wasn't out of fear of her doing the same things he did? She rarely left the suffocating walls of your house, and when she did it was only ever with her children in tow.
What is a young girl to do with such a revelation?
From that moment and for the rest of your life, it was a weight you carried everywhere you went, to know your father was willing to do that to the mother of his children, to you and your siblings. How could you trust other men wouldn't be the same if the first man of your life had betrayed that trust before it got the chance to be built? If not even having a family could stand in the way of his adultery, why would other men be loyal to one woman? You'd rather die than be like your mother, trapped for years in a relationship with someone who didn't know what being faithful was, till death do you part. Or until the truth hit you, crushed you, with the force of a boulder when you least expected it.
You'd heard horror stories, cautionary tales, about people in years, decades long relationships that seemed perfect in every way. Relationships where they respected each other's privacy with great care, where they were so trusting they would've never thought to breach that trust. Until one day one of them had a moment of weakness, and decided to check what could be so private that needed to be kept hidden from them. They all went in half expecting to find nothing, telling themselves they were being paranoid, only to realize their oh so loving partner had been having an affair for years, sometimes for the entirety of their relationship.
You refused to end up like that.
Instead, you let guilt eat you up every time you had the chance to get your hands on your boyfriend's phone without him realizing it. Each and every time you would hurriedly go through every app, every photo, every call and text you could find. You would sigh relieved when you proved to yourself you had nothing to fear. Then, you would erase the trace and leave the device back in its place.
It was a necessary evil, you believed. Sure, invading his privacy was far from okay, but you had convinced yourself that, at the end of the day, it didn't really matter. What mattered was that you left the phone feeling reassured and at ease. What mattered was that he had nothing to hide. It was a way of telling yourself, "see, there's nothing going on. You're just overthinking." A way to calm your fears. And as long as he didn't find out, and you didn't find anything, everything would be fine. You kept telling yourself that, in the grand scheme of things, if you actually found something incriminating, hiding an affair beat snooping through a phone in the race of bad things. And with that you squashed the guilt of not trusting Atsumu until it was nothing but a whisper.
At some point, going through his phone became a habit, more done out of boredom than actual suspicion or insecurity. So when you stepped out of the shower and out of the bathroom, and Atsumu was still singing under the warm water—he always took extremely long showers—your first instinct was to grab his phone. You got comfortable, made sure the towel on your hair wouldn't fall, and unlocked his phone with your fingerprint.
Almost with apathy, you looked through his photos app, from the images sent to him and by him, to the hidden folder and trash. You snapped a photo of yourself and set it as his background in case he caught you with his phone in your hand, and moved to the next app. There was nothing in his messages, nothing in his calls, nothing on his Instagram app, or anywhere else. As usual, he wasn't hiding anything. You smiled to yourself and let yourself sigh as you got more comfortable in bed.
Before you could lock the phone, your finger hovered over the Google app and a wave of unease crashed into you. You’d never really thought of checking his Google tabs. Without a second to spare, you clicked on it. All air left your lungs as an instagram account, one you didn't recognize, greeted you. Your eyes took in everything all at once: the profile picture, so unmistakably him; the name and last name, so obviously false; the description that displayed his location, age and relationship status—”single.”
As if in a trance, you uncovered every bit of information you could get. The women he followed, the ones he messaged sometimes, the ones he constantly talked to, his reactions to their posts and stories. Absolutely everything. You needed to know it all, craved to find it all. If it was there, you would find it… and there was so much to find. So many women he gave his attention to. Most only went that far, flirty conversations and maybe some pictures exchanged. There were a few, however, that were the last nails in your coffin.
That weekend-long work retreat he told you about? It was actually a trip to Kyoto with another woman. Working overtime every now and then? Actually fucking a plethora of women. In cheap hotels, in their apartments, in god damn parties and events with his colleagues, the ones that knew you and treated you so kindly. His best buddy's birthday party that you weren't allowed to attend because it was men only? Two women. He hooked up with two women there, and then proceeded to talk to them about how hot it had been, how he couldn't wait to put his hands on them again, how each one was the best he ever had. It seemed they didn't know about each other either.
The absolute worst discovery came in the form of his coworker, a manager assistant. Ever so sweet at team events, always so eager to make you feel included. Always so eager to sneak behind your back to suck your boyfriend’s dick and get fucked in your bed. That is, apparently, when they even made it behind closed doors instead of just going at it on his back seat.
You found out you had almost caught them once. In their latest conversation, they made fun of how oblivious you were to the mess in the room, so obviously telling of what had been going on prior to your arrival. You remembered now that Atsumu’s clothes had been thrown around carelessly throughout the room, his shirt waiting outside the bedroom door. His body had felt sticky with sweat when you hugged him, a faint smell of lavender lingering on his skin, on your bedsheets. You hadn’t even noticed anything weird. She had been hiding under your bed as you sat and told your boyfriend about your day before undressing on your way to the bathroom. And while you showered he finished fucking her on the floor before leading her outside, cum leaking on her panties and clothes untidy.
You stared at the screen, unsure of what to do, how to proceed. You had never, not once, thought you'd find something in his phone. Never.
The sound of the shower cutting off took you out of your trance, and you hurried to close the tab, delete the apps history and connect the phone to his charger. By the time Atsumu walked in the room all dressed and ready for bed, you were combing and drying your hair.
It was hard to smile back at him. His grin no longer excited the dormant butterflies in your stomach, now it stomped them and tore off their wings, cruel in its every move. How many women had he smiled to like that? It was hard to accept the kiss on your cheek. You trembled under his touch in what he mistook for delight, but was nothing but pure heartbreak. Had he kissed other women that way?
It was even harder to keep the tears at bay, to pretend you weren't falling down a spiral. Part of you thought you were doing a great job at hiding it. The other part thought Atsumu just didn't care. You didn't know which idea was worse.
"Babe, you done?" He mumbled from the bed as he scrolled through his phone. His eyes didn't even look up.
It took you a moment to unplug the hairdryer, too busy looking at the new smile splitting his lips. He was typing. What was he typing? Was he texting someone? Who was it? Were they flirting? Was he asking them the same things he asked you when he was pretending to want to know you better?
You opened your mouth to speak, a question tugging at your tongue. Instead you said a simple "yes." You turned off the light and dragged your feet to the table. Immediately, Atsumu deleted the tab he was on and locked his phone. He opened the blanket for you to jump in and welcomed you with warm arms and a kiss to the forehead. Tears threatened to leave your eyes.
The way your bodies curved into each other felt almost magical. As if that's how your bodies were meant to be, molded up against each other, basking in the shared warmth. His arms around you, legs tangled. Your head on his chest, his heartbeat against your ear. It was where you belonged.
It was also where all of those other women belonged. You weren't special or any different, just more of an idiot.
You found yourself smelling the sheets, looking for her scent and finding nothing but his biting cologne. It occurred to you that might be the reason why he always chose fragrances so strong, to drown out the perfume of his lovers.
With all the strength left in you, you stopped yourself from falling apart and buried yourself deeper in his arms. One last time, just one. You would allow yourself to enjoy your loving relationship for the last time. Once the sun rose and the skies cleared, you would pack your things and leave to never look back, but for the time being you would bask in his arms, delight yourself in the fact that you were in your shared apartment, your shared —and soiled— bed, wearing his clothes.
Tomorrow you could afford to lose it all, tonight you needed Atsumu to hold you tight just one last time.
SEROH 2024
#atsumu angst#haikyuu angst#atsumu x reader#haikyuu x reader#miya atsumu angst#miya atsumu x reader#hq atsumu
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miya atsumu – a lovely night
genre&warnings: rated 16+ for enemies to lovers, fluff, angst, and slowburn; mentions of eating and unsafe usage of cooking knives!! fem!reader
a/n: it was meant to be a small drabble but i got carried away lmao (i’ve also been working on this for more than a year so my peep my writing style changes LMFAOOO)
w/c: 10k exact
“i hate it here.”
“you say that every morning,” aneko chuckled, tying her hair up in a ponytail. “what happened this time?”
“i have a biology presentation soon and i’m not looking forward to it.” you side-eyed the window, watching as students begin filing out of their dorm rooms and into the walkways that lead to the campus.
aneko sighed, patting your shoulder. “you’ll do fine. you do well in every presentation, you know that.”
a lopsided smile made its way onto your face as you shrug your bag over your shoulder. “thanks, aneko… i’m gonna get some coffee. you want anything?”
she shook her head ‘no’, and you shrugged, making your way down the stairs, crossing the dormitories to the cafe next to the campus.
as soon as you took your place in line, a scalding sensation erupts through your shirt and all over your chest, and you jump back in shock and pain.
“what the hell?” you demand, hissing as the coffee burned your skin. unfortunately, the perpetrator is nowhere to be found, seemingly fleeing the scene. the last thing you see of the person is a volleyball jacket and piss-coloured hair.
gritting your teeth in frustration, you storm out of the cafe, ignoring the cries of the cafe staff and trailing after him. “oi! piss hair! you little…” a grunt escapes your lips as he makes a turn, disappearing into the sea of students.
eyes narrowing into slits, you marched your way back to your dorm, throwing the door open.
“what happened to you?” sakura frowned, getting up from her seat on the couch. “oh, and aneko’s on her date.”
“first of all,” you scowled, dumping your bags on the ground and retreating to the bathroom, “if you ever see a piss-haired brat, punch them in the face for me.”
“piss-haired brat,” she rolled her eyes in amusement before asking, “are you alright, (y/n)?”
tugging the shirt over your head, you stormed back out into the kitchen. “i have a biology presentation in an hour, i had boiling coffee spill on me and the guy didn’t even apologise! and now aneko has to go and flaunt her non-singleness to the world!”
“well, that guy is a douchebag,” she hummed. “and you know you always get the highest score in biology, so that’s not an issue for you. oh and you’re never going to guess what kou-chan told me!”
you raise an unsuspecting eyebrow, “what?”
she squeals, her hand clapping in excitement. “they knows someone who needs a date! he’s looking for a partner!”
your nose scrunched in distaste, “you set me up with six dates since last september and it’s only the beginning of january. do i really want your help in finding a date?”
“i know someone. trust me on this, okay?” she pats your shoulder and smooths out your hair. “are you free tomorrow night?”
“i think so…” you eye her wearily. “i’m trusting you, got it?”
she grins, the smile stretching across her face in excitement, “i won’t let you down! oh, you should start heading to biology.”
you nod, “alright… i’ll see you later. it’s your turn to buy groceries, so don’t forget!”
shooting you a thumbs up, sakura goes back to her fashion magazine, and you close the dorm door. maybe the day would get better? it can only go up from here… right? shaking the negative thoughts out of your head, you half-jog to the lecture hall, clutching at the strap of your shoulder bag. the hall is already half-filled with people reading over their notes, doing last-minute editing, and practising.
finding a seat near the middle, you began taking out all your notes from your bag. as you read through your entire presentation, the chair beside you screeched as someone took a seat there.
glancing up at the person to say a quick greeting and then you realised — “you!”
you bolted up from your seat, your eyes narrowed and the chair screeched as it dragged against the floor. he gapes, watching you stand.
“the hell ya talkin’ about?”
“you–” you flinched as the sharp hushing of students met your ears and you bowed sheepishly in apology. you turned back to the smug-looking brat, hissing your explanations. “the main issue is the fact that you spilled hot coffee on me. what’s worse is how you didn’t even apologise!”
he chuckled, “i see. you’re just a fan who wants attention! okay, you can watch our volleyball practice–”
“i don’t want to watch your stupid volleyball practice!” you snapped, gathering your books and shoving them into your bag. “unless you want to apologise, i don’t want to see your ugly face and piss hair.”
“hey–”
flipping him off as discreetly as possible, you stalked your way over to the other side of the lecture hall, sitting in between two students.
one raised their eyebrow at you. “is miya atsumu your boyfriend?”
you scoffed, muttering under your breath, “atsumu? what a shitty name…” you turn back to them, “no, he’s not my boyfriend. if he was, he would be dead by now.”
they nod, eyebrows raised, before turning back to their notes.
you, on the other hand, were left to your thoughts. miya? where have you heard that name before? and why the hell did he look so familiar?
***
“oi–”
“are you going to apologise?” you asked, not looking at him as you pack up your things after your successful presentation. “listen, buddy, i'm in a good mood. something i don’t want you screwing up.”
“i’m not here to apologise,” he huffed, “but maybe i can make it up to you?”
“i only want an apology, sweet cheeks,” a sarcastic smile bloomed on your face, and you patted his cheek snarkily. “now if you excuse me, i would like to get the coffee i couldn’t get this morning.”
“i’ll treat you,” atsumu offered and you shot him a glare.
“sure. i’ll take an apology with a side of sincerity.”
the smile on your face grew wider and you walked out of the lecture room and into the throng of students.
***
“i sure hope that this date of mine is as good as you say…” you hummed, searching through your bag to make sure you have everything. “why does it have to be at this fancy restaurant again?”
“because the guy just so happens to be extra,” sakura says, taking a left turn and parking in front of a tall building. “you are wearing the heels i gave you right?”
you nodded begrudgingly, recalling how she forced you to wear them before you left your dorm.
she squealed, her bright blue eyes gleaming with happiness. “okay, so here’s the rundown. the restaurant is ise sueyoshi–”
“i’m sorry, ise sueyoshi, as in one of the most expensive restaurants in all of tokyo?”
“i tried to talk him out of it,” she defended, grimacing at the thought of the bill. “look, it’ll be fine. just don’t think about it, okay? after the restaurant, you’ll take a nice walk around the city! oh, and i’m confiscating your keys.”
you blanched, “what, why?”
“so that you can’t ditch him halfway. no one is going to be home until your date is over, so there’s no reason for you to ditch.” she grinned, “you’ll be fine! he’s a good guy, trust me on this.”
you groaned in annoyance but pushed the car door open. “i’ll call you when i get inside the restaurant.”
she beamed, yelling, “the reservation is under hasegawa sakura!” before driving off into the distance.
a sigh left your lips as you stomp your way inside the building, taking the lift to the 11th floor. after entering the restaurant, you take a seat, looking at the bright city of tokyo below you.
“what a view, huh?”
no. you scowled, looking up at atsumu. “i’ve seen better.”
he shrugged, taking the seat in front of you and swirling his cup of wine around. “so yer my blind date. i would have thought that sakura had better friends.”
you sneered as you rose from your seat. “i was thinking the same thing. the only reason i’m on this stupid date is because of her, anyway.”
he grinned, and you felt a chill run down your spine as he says, “so ya asked her to set’cha up with me? very cute, sweetheart, but if ya wanted to go on a date with me, ya could have just asked.”
you scoffed, “i know full well about your reputation with girls, sweetheart. they go up to you all starry-eyed and then you break their hearts. besides, why the hell would i be attracted to someone like you?”
atsumu flinched at the honesty in your voice. do people really see him as some dream crusher heart breaker? “listen, sweet cheeks–” he relished in the way your cheeks darken at his words– “i am a great person.”
“yes, because every ‘great person’ flaunts about it in the hallways. yes, miya, you’re a great person.” the sarcasm rolled off your tongue fluidly, and he can’t help but roll his eyes when you speak again. “i lost my appetite. excuse me.”
he bolted up from his seat, eyes wide as you throw your bag over your shoulder and make your way out of the restaurant. “woah, woah, woah. do ya know how hard it was to get a reservation here? i even got a suit for this!”
“no, i don’t know how hard it was to get a reservation here. and this is just further proof you’re an asshole. you want to show off your money to some random stranger, knowing entirely that it’s a blind date.” you fake a smile and bow to the staff members.
atsumu faltered in his step before continuing to run after you. “okay, listen–”
“no, i am not going to listen, because the only thing that comes out of your mouth is bullshit. come on sakura, pick up…”
“(l/n)–”
“stop! okay, just… just stop.” your nostrils flared, and you turned around to shoot him a venomous glare. “i don’t care about you or your dumb polyester suit–”
“it’s wool.”
“–but you have to be stupid to think that i’d ever fall for you.”
he groaned, wiping his face in frustration. “we’re both doing this for sakura so can ya just cooperate for one damn night?”
you grit your teeth, eyeing him carefully, “okay. just one night.”
***
“i have t’ask,” atsumu begins, your bag thrown haphazardly over his shoulder. “why are ya on this date anyway? woulda thought that someone as charming as you would have had a date by now.”
“i could ask you the same question,” you quip, eyes fixated on the bright city lights that you could see from the aoyama bridge. “it’s not important anyway.”
he shrugged, “just wanted to know why.”
“both sakura and aneko have boyfriends. it kind of sucks to be the third wheel all the time. they give me hell for not doing anything on friday nights, too,” you shrug, “i mean, it’s not a big deal.”
atsumu snorts at your words. “so you want a date for the sake of having a date?”
“i want a date for the sake of not being lonely,” you correct, “but i think i’m going to have to be lonely for the time being.”
“an’ why do you think that?” a lazy smirk rests on his lips. “i’d be a perfect boyfriend.”
“yeah, that’d appeal to someone who believes in romance,” you laugh, patting his cheek and taking your bag off him.
to miya atsumu, life is a competition to be the best. who can win the most volleyball games? who can get the highest test result? who can eat the most onigiris from onigiri miya without taking breaks? life to him is a competition. it’s a race to the finish line and the person who gets there first is the winner. and what you just said? it sounds an awful lot like a challenge.
“alright then,” he grins at you, “i’ll make you fall in love with me by… say, end of june.”
“what’s that going to do for you? give you an ego boost?” you roll your eyes, “i’m not doing that.”
“scared, sweetheart?”
crossing your arms over your chest, you shoot him a glare. “no, i’m not. but i hope you realise that i am frankly feeling nothing.”
“is that so?”
“mmm, no. in fact, it could be less than nothing.”
he chuckles, “good to know. so, you agree?”
“that this is a waste of a lovely night? yes.”
“you know what i mean. if i can make you fall in love with me by the end of june, you have to be my girlfriend.”
you snort in response, “if i didn’t know any better, miya, i’d say you’re in love with me.”
he rolls his eyes, clearly ignoring your first remark. “alright then, choose your prize if you’re so confident.”
“if you fall in love with me…” you hum an evil glint in your eye, “i get total and full control over your social media.”
he smirks, holding out his hand for you to shake. “anything for you, princess.”
***
to you, life was about survival. don’t die, don’t mess up, don’t be a failure. that also meant ‘don’t get lonely, because that just screws things up for everyone’. aneko had eito, her boyfriend since high school, and sakura had taniguchi kou, the manager for the ejp volleyball team. that must have been how she even had connections to miya atsumu in the first place. survival was also not doing anything unnecessary. whether it be sleeping at ungodly hours, binge-watching an entire anime, or just studying too much, you couldn’t do that because it’ll destroy your schedule the next day. your life was based on routine. that is, it was based on routine.
“hey, (y/n), there’s some mail for you!” aneko yells out into the dorm, waving a pristine envelope around.
you raise an eyebrow. “it’s probably junk, just throw it out!”
“i’m gonna open it, okay?” she beams at you as you crack an egg into the pan.
“knock yourself out.”
you hum quietly to yourself as you turn off the stove and move the egg on top of your rice. grabbing a pair of chopsticks from your drawer, you cut through the egg, just as you hear a squeal.
“(y/n), oh my god, did you buy volleyball tickets? they’re vips, too!”
“what?” you push your seat back, grabbing the envelope from aneko’s hands. “i didn’t buy any volleyball tickets? it’s probably been given to the wrong person.”
“but there was a note for you in the envelope…” she frowned, “are you sure that it’s not for you?”
confusion was clear on your face as you pulled the note out, but it was replaced with a look of pure annoyance when you realised exactly who the note was from.
‘dear: (l/n) (y/n),
see you in the stands ;)
from: atsumu <3’
a deep scowl plasters itself onto your face and you dial his number into your phone.
“did you–”
“you absolute asshole!” you yell into your phone, swiftly cutting him off, slapping a hand against your forehead. “i’m not going to your dumb volleyball game, got it? i have things to do and places to be.”
“you and i both know that isn’t true, sweetheart,” he snorts and you can practically hear his eye roll. “you told me yourself - you don’t usually have plans on friday nights.”
you grimace because yes, you did say that. “well maybe i have plans now?” the words came out as a question and he chuckles.
“come on, it’ll be fun!”
“we’ll see,” you mutter before hanging up.
***
“i’ve never been in a proper volleyball stadium before,” aneko says as she bit into her onigiri. “i can’t believe you got vip tickets, (n/n)!”
“yeah… amazing,” you manage, a meek smile plastered on your face.
the entire stadium looks as if a rainbow puked on it. bright, colourful posters to support the players well held high in the air by multiple people. banners hang over the stands, the team’s logo and motto drawn in neat calligraphy... the multitude of people who came to watch was overwhelming – almost every seat has been filled.
“the first match is… black jackals versus the sendai frogs!” aneko beams as she looks at the flyer. “wow, they’re both really good. (y/n), look at them!”
forcing the flyer in front of your face, you push it away from you so you could properly read it, taking note of the team members. each of the members on both teams look good — really good. you look around yourself and chuckle, of course. no wonder it was so full. most of the fans are girls anyway.
one girl, sporting a bright blue shirt with the words ‘go atsumu!’, happens to catch your eye. she’s a typical popular girl — false clumpy lashes that you can spot from a mile away, hair curled in obnoxious rings, and a banner that screamed ‘look at me!’. you can tell from the amused looks the people gave her that she is a common spectator at msby games.
“that’s emiko etsudo,” aneko grumbles, catching your gaze, “she’s in my lecture and never stops talking.”
“seems to be the type,” you snort, turning back to the volleyball courts where the players began to take their places.
the black jackals are insane. even when they were just starting up you can already tell how skilled they are. each spike that hits against the glossy wooden floors sends shivers down your spine. as the game went on and got more intense, it’s clear that msby was in the lead in the fifth set. both teams won two sets each, an impressive feat in itself, and the score for the fifth set is close — 11-10 in the jackal’s favour.
soon enough, atsumu’s turn to serve came around after a quick rotation, and the cheerleaders and band immediately fell into a hush. your eyes meet with atsumu and he sends a wink your way, resulting in a high pitched shriek to resound throughout the stadium. you can hear emiko freaking out and screaming that he was winking at her, amusing you. sending a small, two-fingered salute back at atsumu, you brushed your pants down as you stood up.
“i’m gonna head off to the bathroom for a second. i’ll be right back, okay?”
aneko nods, fully immersed in the game. letting out a tired sigh, you leave the gym, searching for the restroom. the volleyball game must have ended a lot quicker than you expected when an entire team walks past you, almost trampling you in the process.
“well, well, well. what do we have here?”
you groan, “miya. i’m assuming you won?”
“don’t look so excited,” he grins boyishly, and you ignore the warming of your heart as he does. “we’re gonna go get some drinks after we win. care to join?”
he slings a sweaty arm over your shoulder and you cringe, pushing his arm off. “i don’t do drinks.”
“you harassing someone, miya?” a lazy voice drawls from behind you, and you almost jump at the random voice.
“o’course not, omi-kun!” atsumu snorts, “this is (y/n)!”
“(l/n),” you correct, patting his back sarcastically, “we’re not quite there yet.”
‘omi-kun’ raises an eyebrow. “right. nice to meet you.” and with that, he followed the rest of the team into the locker room, hands stuffed into his pockets.
“that’s a character.” you roll your eyes. “anyway, i better head back to aneko. she’s probably getting worried.”
“i’ll walk ya,” he offers, a bright smile on his face, only for it to fall within seconds.
“miya? what’s—”
a harsh squeal meets your ears and you flinch, whipping around to see etsudo, her merch in plain view and looking like a disco ball.
“atsumu, oh my god, you were so good out there!” her high pitched voice rings in your ears.
“shut up—” atsumu begins, but stops short. your words echo in his head, ‘they go up to you all starry-eyed and then you break their hearts’. “yeah, whatever.”
etsudo’s eyes widen and you can practically see the excitement oozing out of her. “i knew you’d love me!”
“how do you get that from— never mind,” you shake your head, a sarcastic smile on your face as you begin to walk away. “i’m gonna go. good luck with this, miya.”
“wait, hold on,” atsumu fumbles, running past etsudo and trailing behind you. “i said i would walk ya.”
“but you were having such a good time with your fangirl,” you say innocently, battering your eyelashes. “emiko etsudo, i think her name is?”
“don’t remind me,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “she’s gone to every game and thinks that i’m in love with her or something. spoiled pig…”
“so you don’t like her? do you hate all your fans?” you raise an eyebrow, both in curiosity and in disbelief.
he shrugs, a smirk on his face. “not all of them. you’re the only one i can tolerate.”
“smooth,” you laugh, “how many girls did you use that one on?”
“just one,” he hums, bumping his side gently against yours.
you can’t deny the fluttering of your insides as he does and you scold yourself. this is a game to him — he doesn’t feel anything for you.
“how nice of you,” you say, trying to ignore the growing blush on your cheeks and the heat that’s crawled up to your ears. “well, there’s aneko. i’m gonna go…”
“alright, then.” he grins, taking your hand and kissing the back of it. “until next time, sweet cheeks.”
you gape as he leaves, cheeks hot with embarrassment and surprise. “wha-”
“(y/n), oh my god, was that atsumu?” aneko demands, shaking you to answer.
you don’t respond, trying to calm yourself down from shock, your heart racing a thousand times an hour. you don’t mean anything to him. you’re a game to him — a game that he plays just to show everyone else that he is better than them.
“(y/n)? are you okay?”
you jolt out of your trance, blinking tiredly. “oh. yeah. i’m fine.”
***
“atsumu-san, who was that?” hinata bounds up to him, all smiles after winning against his longtime rival.
“(l/n) (y/n), apparently,” sakusa responds, his hands still stuffed in his pockets and a towel around his shoulders.
“oh, she’s sakura-chan’s friend, right?” bokuto asks brightly and takes a bite of his protein bar.
atsumu nods, mind distant as he thinks about where to take you on your next ‘date’. it wouldn't be a real date if he already bet on it, right? would a cafe work? what about a cat cafe? do you even like cats?
“oi, miya.”
he looks up to see sakusa, and he grins, “knew i’d grow on you, omi-omi~”
“your face looks gross,” he scrunches his face in disgust.
“you had a funny look on your face, atsumu-san!” hinata laughs.
“like how taniguchi-san looks at sakura-chan!” bokuto agrees side-eying atsumu who was no longer paying attention to the conversation.
currently, atsumu was thinking of a million ways he could win your heart. he was thinking of a million ways to get you to fall for him, all so that he can prove to you that he isn’t as bad as you think he is. he had a little over a month to get you to fall in love with him and, granted, he did spill boiling coffee over you and then proceeded to not apologise. scratching his head in thought, a lightbulb suddenly dinged in his head. there is only one person in the world who knows everything about everything. and in this case? everyone.
***
“nice try. not happening,” sakura responds swiftly, turning away from the setter. “look, atsumu, you’re my friend and all, but the fact that you want to win my best friend over for the sake of your pride isn’t a good enough reason to ‘get to know her’. if anything, it makes you seem like an even shitter person than everyone perceives you to be.”
he snorts at her words, “you really are a friend of (y/n). come on, sakura-chan! i just need to know what she likes! that’s all!”
sakura grits her teeth, beginning to regret sending you on that date with this piss-haired brat. “i don’t care, atsumu. i’m not going to let you break her heart for the sake of your stupid pride. you want to use someone for your stupid experiment? fine, not my problem, but you’re going to use my best friend.”
he flinches at her icy tone, now understanding why kou-san warned him about getting on sakura’s bad side. despite her incredibly bright and sunny disposition, she really was incredibly terrifying when it came to the people that she cared about which was not good for him. next attempt? fukuhara aneko.
“i don’t understand why you’re trying so hard,” aneko remarks as she invites atsumu into the shared apartment, “you’re doing this… because you want to be known as some dreamboat who breaks girls’ hearts left right and centre?”
“i’m doing this to prove a point,” atsumu corrects, “but when you say it that way—”
“i am not going to let you break my best friend’s heart,” aneko cuts in, taking a knife out of the knife block and waving it around halfheartedly, relishing in the way the setter flinches. “nice try, though.”
he groans in annoyance, “sakura-chan said the same thing.”
“then why are you trying?” aneko demands, frustration clear in her voice, “you’re putting all this effort in to ‘prove a point’. do you know how ridiculous you sound? what’s the real reason you want to win (y/n) over?”
at her words, atsumu falls silent. as cliche as it seemed, you were interesting to him. you’re different, and at his thoughts, the volleyball player cringes internally. to be entirely fair, and to give you credit, you stood your ground around him which was admirable, to say the least. unlike the other ‘spoiled pigs’, you actually have some sort of awareness. maybe he…
he shakes his head, snorting quietly. as if he attracted to someone the likes of you.
“i’ll figure it out myself,” atsumu concludes, avoiding aneko’s unimpressed gaze. “she has to fall for me at some point. does she have any social media?”
“i thought you said that you’ll figure it out yourself,” aneko responds drily. “why don’t you just ask her yourself? let me guess; your pride?"
to atsumu, that sounded a whole lot like a challenge.
***
for a friday morning, you were surprisingly busy, especially because of all the practice exams you’ve been doing as preparation for an exam that will take place in less than three months. but of course, no day passes without a few random interruptions.
“hey, sweetheart, you doing anything?”
atsumu’s annoying voice rang in your ears through the phone, and you couldn’t help but grit your teeth. “what do you want, miya?”
“i was just wondering if there’s anything in particular you wanted to do, lately,” he responds, his voice in a sing-song tone. “just figured i should take you out on a better date.”
you scoff at his proposal, “nice try, miya. you’re not getting me that easily.”
“aw, don’t be like that, darling! i’ll take you out to get coffee, how about that?”
a silence washes over you as you consider his offer. to be entirely fair, you couldn’t really say no to a free food, and it did give him a chance to redeem himself. not to mention you definitely did need the coffee at some point.
“alright, miya, let’s do it.” you shrug, not that he could see it, “when and where?”
“i’ll text you the address,” he responds, and you can hear the pride and smugness through the phone. “see you there, babe.”
from: miya
hey princess!
from: miya
[sent location]
from: miya
see you in 20!
a sigh escapes your lips, not believing that you actually let yourself be dragged into this mess – a mess that was only made for atsumu’s pride and ego. picking up your bag, you made your way over to the location he sent you, praying that it wasn’t some sick joke and that you weren’t about to be murdered.
your arrival at the cafe doesn’t go unnoticed by the volleyball player, the little bell at the door welcoming you in and announcing your presence to the rest of the people inside. you don’t miss the way atsumu’s head spins around to look at you, a boyish grin spreading onto his face as if to say, “i can’t believe you’re actually here.” you find it funny, considering how he’s the one who invited you here in such an ominous way. he waves you over enthusiastically – too enthusiastically – and you ignore the quickening of your heart at the way he looks so excited to see you.
he’s not happy to see you, you have to remind yourself – although you feel your heart begin to sink at your own thoughts. you huff, now is not the time to be caught up in his romantic theatrics. the only reason why he’s so excited to see you is to rub it in your face that you actually fell for it. right?
“i already ordered for us!” atsumu said happily, taking a sip of his coffee for affect, “ya don’t mind, do ya, princess?”
“atsumu, do you really think i’m a princess?” you ask, batting your eyelashes.
“ya know i do, princess!” he smiles, pushing a dark chocolate mocha towards you.
“then stop making decisions for me,” you deadpan, crossing your legs. “how do you even know what i order anyway?”
another obnoxious grin your way as he answers, “i have connections.”
you scoff once again, rolling your eyes as you lifted the drink to your lips.
atsumu hates the way his eyes fell to your lips as you spoke and he hates the way his heart began to pound the second you stepped through the door of the cafe. he isn’t supposed to feel this way – he’s not supposed to like you. so he suppresses his feelings. as usual.
the date – could you even call it a date? – ended on a positive note to your surprise. atsumu was clearly doing his best to be ‘the man of your dreams’, and as much as you appreciated his gentlemanly ways, you hated to admit that you missed his teasing charms and his childish antics. the idea of you missing his annoying nature is beyond your own understanding, to the point where you were almost sure that he had successfully brainwashed you.
you shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts away as you return to the present. atsumu decided to walk you back to your dorm which, to give him credit, was actually quite sweet of him… even though you kept insisting that it wasn’t necessary.
“hey, lets do this again sometime,” you find yourself saying, realising that you actually did enjoy the boy’s company. “it was fun!”
he smirks smugly at you, and you had to laugh as he says, “i knew i’d grow on you, love!”
“just be yourself next time,” you snort, patting him on the shoulder as you walk to the entrance of your dorm building. “i’m paying!”
“as if!” he yells back, and you smile as he waves goodbye.
you’re left to your thoughts as you ride the elevator to the seventh floor, thinking over what just transpired. it was weird – considering atsumu’s naturally flirtatious character – and if you had to be completely honest with yourself, it was unnerving seeing him do a complete one-eighty regarding his personality.
the biggest thing that worried you was how he was so willing and quick to change his personality for someone. was he that desperate to prove himself to a complete stranger?
“so…?”
you hear a voice as you enter your dorm. there, sakura leaned against the kitchen counter, the biggest and the smuggest look on her face.
“how was the date?” she coos, eyes glistening in mischief.
“weird,” you respond, dropping your bags to the side as you pull a chair out to sit. “sakura, you know him. has he ever been in any… bad relationships?”
she thinks for a moment before responding, “why do you ask?”
you shrug, resting your chin on the palm of your hand. “he just seems to eager to prove how macho he is. did something happen?”
“from what i know, and from what kou’s told me, he’s always been like that. you could always ask osamu-san, though. you know him, the owner of onigiri miya.”
you clicked your fingers in acknowledgement, “so that’s why he looked so familiar! i haven’t been to that place in ages!”
she nods, “ask osamu. tell him i sent you.”
***
“kombu-onigiri for (l/n) (y/n)!” osamu calls out to the small crowd of people, and you have to do a double take when you see him.
he was practically the same as atsumu, aside from his dark grey eyes and ash brown hair, and you had to hold your tongue from complaining.
“thanks,” you smile, taking the little bag.
“i haven’t seen you in a while,” osamu comments as he prepares another order. “busy with uni?”
you sigh tiredly, “it is what it is. i wanted to talk to you about something.”
he nods, “shoot. umekaka-onigiri for kimura!”
“it’s about atsumu.”
he stops before turning to you slowly. “... let’s wait until i close, yeah? happy to wait for another hour or so?”
“take your time.”
time passes quickly among the quiet vocaloid music and the volleyball game that played on the tv overhead, as well as the multitude of customers that came and went. osamu gave you complimentary onigiris while you waited and despite your initial denial of the free food, you had to give in to the soft smell of caramelised rice and sesame oil.
it was well past seven o’clock by the time osamu was able to speak to you, but at least you were well fed while you waited.
“sorry about that,” osamu apologises, untying his apron and placing a cup of hot green tea in front of you. “what did you want to talk about?”
at that moment, you want to scream at the universe. of course, you’re stuck with the annoying stuck up brat instead of the sweet chef that sat in front of you.
“don’t worry about it,” you smile, wrapping your hands around the warm cup. “atsumu… has he ever been in any bad romantic relationships?”
he doesn’t respond directly, instead chuckling and asking, “you’re the girl he’s seeing, aren’t you? the hard-headed one? what does he call you again? oh, ‘princess’, was it?”
you raise an eyebrow, “he talks about me?”
he smirks, leaning back in his seat and there’s a smugness as he says, “a lot more than you think, princess.”
you take back everything you said about the universe. both the miya twins were equally insufferable.
“don’t call me that. and answer the question!”
his face falls from the obnoxious grin he once had and settles into a frown. “he was. a year ago, with… tachibana reina, i think. fucking bitch.”
your eyes widen at the sudden coldness and spite that drips from his words. “what happened?”
“cheated on him. treated him like shit. god… no wonder he’s been going on so many dates.” he runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “i shouldn’t tell you this, and frankly i shouldn’t be telling you anything, but…”
he looks around, almost comically, before saying, “i really think you’re good for him, (y/n). i’m serious. out of all the girls he’s gone on dates with, he’s made it pretty clear that he likes you.”
you almost laugh if he wasn’t so serious. “he’s only trying so hard to prove a point, osamu. he doesn’t feel anything for me.”
he sips his green tea, laughing quietly, “i promise he actually likes you. he’s just scared, y’know?”
“from everything you’ve told me? i get it.” it’s your turn to frown as you digest his words. “i just need to take care of myself too, that’s all.”
“just talk to him. really, he’s not as bad a guy as you’d expect.”
***
after days of psyching yourself up – only to psych yourself out – you find yourself waiting at the university gym, cringing internally at the smell of sweat and antiperspirant. but all that goes away the moment you sit at the bleachers, the manager of the team nodding in acknowledgement. the rest of the volleyball team didn’t seem to notice your entry into the gym, and if they did, they clearly didn’t pay any mind to it as they continued their practice game. and damn was it a view. strangely enough, you found your eyes to linger a little too long on a familiar blond player, him sporting the number ‘7’ on his jersey.
as much as you wanted to deny it, it was undeniably cute and inspiring to see him work so hard. but it all comes crashing down when he lands awkwardly on his leg after a block.
it all happens so quickly; the captain calling for a time-out, the manager rushing over to him and the coach yelling for everyone to give him some room. you stand from your seat, hoping to get a better view of what was going on, and you did. and you wished you just stayed seated or you could purge the image out of your memory.
there atsumu sat, trying and failing to get up without anyone’s help. it was a painful scene to watch as he gasped in pain and exhaustion, denying his captain’s hand and ignoring his manager’s pleas to let the rest of the team help him.
“hey, atsumu…”
his neck snaps to look at you, your hand outstretched with a lopsided smile on your face (you tried to make it reassuring).
“come on, ‘tsumu. let’s get you to the infirmary.”
you help him wrap an arm over your neck as you hoist him up, him balancing on his good leg.
“i got it from here,” you say to the coach who let out a heave of relief.
“thank you, (l/n).”
the walk to the infirmary was quiet, and although it was only a short distance, the journey seemed to stretch on and on. the moment he makes his presence aware to the nurse, she fusses over him, almost like a mother goose tending to her child.
it was obvious that atsumu was doing his best to stay strong, despite how his brown eyes glossed over with tears and how he hissed in pain when the nurse moved his ankle slightly.
“a sprain,” she says to the both of you, before addressing the boy in front of her. “grade two sprain, teetering to grade three. i’m calling six weeks off the ankle and then rehab for two weeks.”
“that’s… two months?”
the voice crack is evident in the setter’s voice and he’s on the verge of tears. you would be, too if you were in his shoes. taking one month off to recover is already bad enough for an athlete, let alone two.
she nods, “i’ll let your coach know. stay off the ankle, atsumu, i mean it.” she turns to you, “you make sure of it, okay?”
“of course.”
you drive atsumu’s car (a fancy mercedes because apparently their team was sponsored by them or something like that) to his dorm, helping him onto the couch.
“are you okay?”
he nods and you watch him swallow the lump in his throat.
you ask him again, and it’s only then when he cries. you sit beside him as he cries into the crook of your neck, his hair tickling your cheek and your ear as you rub his back. you press kisses to the top of his head, denying every horrible harsh thing that comes out of his mouth. he cries and cries until there’s nothing left to cry about. he cries about his injury and how he’s letting everyone down. he cries about how he’s never good enough and how you deserve better – someone who isn’t stuck up and obnoxious. he cries about reina and how it’s his fault she fell out of love with him. he cries about how he was horrible to osamu, his brother who put up with all his problems and who always treats him with kindness despite everything. he apologises and apologises until he falls asleep in your arms, and at that moment you shed a tear.
you hate yourself for all the harsh things you say about him behind closed doors. you hate the way you thought of him as a nuisance because, god, he is the furthest thing from a nuisance. you hate the way you used to wish he wasn’t in your life because you realise that now you wouldn’t know how life would be without seeing his pretty face and his genuine joy to see you.
you move him so that he can rest his head on a cushion – a feat in itself considering that he’s 73 kilograms of pure muscle – before making a phone call.
when he finally wakes, the first thing he sees is you.
“you’re awake,” you say, more to yourself than to him.
“sorry,” he responds, his eyes puffy and swollen, and you raise an eyebrow at his word as he pushes himself up from the couch so that his back was against the backrest.
“you don’t need to apologise,” you chuckle, “anyway, i called osamu-san about what happened and he brought some food for you to eat.”
he’s silent, looking up at you, confusion clear in his eyes. why are you being so… nice to him?
“i thought you hated me,” he says bitterly, his gaze shifting to his hands.
you falter, and you stop stirring the udon. “i… i’m sorry.” you look back at the pot, “i never… i never hated you.”
he scoffs in disbelief, “you did. i know you did.”
“i didn’t,” you respond firmly, moving to pour the udon into a large bowl, “i didn’t hate you. i think i hated the idea that you were using me, or something.” you sprinkle some spring onions over the udon before topping it up with an egg and the tempura that osamu helped you fry earlier. “that’s what you wanted, isn’t it? this entire thing is a game – a bet – to boost your ego.” he’s quiet as you talk, and you sigh in both frustration and regret. “but i never hated you. and i’m sorry that you felt like i did.”
you place the bowl in front of him on the coffee table, wiping your hands on your pants awkwardly. “um, yeah… i’m gonna clean up now so… call me when you need me, i guess.”
“can you stay here?” atsumu asks suddenly, and you nod.
“sure.”
***
despite all your protests and your pleas, you, osamu, and atsumu walk into the university gym four weeks later. well, it wasn’t so much walking for atsumu as it was wheeling him through the glass sliding doors. that was your condition for him to enter the gym: for him to sit in a wheel chair while you wheel him around. sure, wheeling around a man the size of atsumu isn’t what you would consider to be fun, but the doctor did call for at least six weeks off the injury, and you weren’t about to be scolded by a medical personnel. osamu tags along with you, saying that he wanted to ‘see his brother in his misery’.
cheers and greetings from the team flood your ears, and you grin happily at all of them. of course, sakusa wastes no time in shooting sarcastic comments to atsumu, but you know that deep down he’s happy that his friend is doing okay with his injury. hinata and bokuto are beyond excited, high-fiving atsumu and telling him that they can’t wait for him to get back onto the court. meian scolds atsumu lightly for not taking care of himself, but he turns to you with a grateful smile.
you smile at the scene, standing off to the side with a few other people as you watch everyone reconnect with their ‘long lost team member’ when you notice osamu’s face fall. his expression hardens and he narrows his eyes at the door.
“osamu, what–”
one look at the gym doors is enough to make your heart fall as a tall girl stands at the entrance. it’s almost impossible to miss her – what, with her obnoxious outfit that doesn’t fit a university gym in the slightest – as she looks around the gym with a raised eyebrow. it’s only when she sees atsumu does her expression change into a ridiculous tear-stricken look, her eyebrows knitting together as her brilliant blue eyes well with tears.
“atsumu!” she cries, and everyone turns around as her high-pitched voice enters their ears.
meian blinks in confusion before turning to atsumu, whose face is now pale white before settling into a frown.
“atsumu-san, who is that?”
“tachibana reina,” osamu scowls, stepping in front of his brother protectively. “what the hell are you doing here?”
tachibana sniffs before wiping a stray tear off from her cheek. “i heard that atsumu-chan was injured so i came right away!”
you grit your teeth, moving to stand beside the onigiri-maker. “he was injured four weeks ago. if you really did care, you would have at least called earlier.”
her expression shifts in an almost comical way, an eyebrow raising at you and she speaks as if you burned her. “who are you?”
“we could ask you the same question,” sakusa spits back, lifting his mask up to cover his face as he expresses his hostility.
samson foster, the coach of msby, steps forward to meet with tachibana, and you can tell that he isn’t at all pleased. first of all, she decides to wear three-inch high heels into a gym, proceeds to jump herself onto an injured team member, and she didn’t even ask to visit from one of the team or staff members.
you crouch beside atsumu so that you can look in his eyes as you ask him, “you want to go now?”
he swallows thickly, eyes flicking to where tachibana stands, before nodding. “yeah.” he looks away from you when he says it.
“okay.”
you nod in acknowledgement to the rest of the team, osamu saying that he wanted to be with the team in hopes to diffuse the situation and in hopes of sending tachibana packing. sakusa raises an eyebrow at you and you smile reassuringly, mouthing the words, ‘i’ll text you later’, which he responds with a nod of his own.
“she has some nerve,” you comment as you drive through the freeway. “coming all the way here, i mean. she’s already done so much to hurt you and she just pops in from out of the blue?” you scoff, shaking your head as you indicate left to reach the exit. “i’ve only met her for ten seconds and i already hate her. how did you even survive dating her for as long as you did?”
he chuckles from beside you, “i guess we all make bad dating mistakes.”
“she’s the worst.” you roll your eyes, pulling up to his driveway. “you have the patience of a fucking saint.”
you help him into his apartment, quietly hoping that the issue at the gym has been diffused. you doubt it, considering the stories atsumu has told you about his lying ex-girlfriend, but you had to hope for the best.
“regardless of whether or not she actually cares for you, her actions were uncalled for.” you continue as you prop up your laptop on the coffee bench. “did you see osamu’s face?”
he laughs loudly, moving to sit closer next to you. “he has a dumb face.”
“you have the same face!” you cry out, clapping him on the shoulder. “anyway, i have an exam in a couple days, so hush.”
he shoots you another cheeky grin and you condemn the way your heart stutters in your chest.
“anything you say, princess.”
***
“welcome back,” coach foster chuckles, clapping atsumu on the back as he walks into the gym. “your ankle all good? you went to all your rehab sessions, right?”
“o’course!” atsumu grins, stumbling a little from the force of the clap. “(Y/N) wouldn’t let me skip any even if i wanted to.”
bokuto snickers, “oh yeah, your girlfriend!”
atsumu chuckles at his friends words, waving them off. “nah, she’s not my girlfriend.”
“but you like her, right?” hinata is quick to respond, wiggling his brows. “even sakusa likes her!”
atsumu’s face morphs into a betrayed one as he wails teasingly, drooping and arm over his friend. “no, omi-omi, how could you do this to me?!”
“get off.” sakusa grumbles not unkindly. “you smell.”
“oi, i showered!”
while atsumu was living his life, you were tempted to stay at home for a week while your mourned. what exactly were you mourning though? simple: the fact that you were very much gaining feelings for miya atsumu. in other words, you were wallowing in your misery. this wasn’t supposed to happen. you weren’t supposed to let him win.
“it’s really not that bad,” sakura offers, patting your head sympathetically. “i know it’s not ideal-”
“not ideal?” you demand, bringing your head up fro your pillows to glare at her. “this is, like, the worst thing that could happen!”
“i think you’re overreacting,” aneko offers from the otherside of the couch, rolling her eyes when your bury your face into the pillow in your arms again.
“i’m not overreacting,” you groan, words muffled by the pillows. you lift your head up once again and you scrunch your face in frustration. “he’s- he’s- this entire thing is a game to him! he doesn’t even like me!”
“i really doubt that,” sakura says gently, rubbing your back. “i know it might seem like he’s an asshole, but he’s a really nice person.”
aneko snorts, “i don’t think you need to tell her that.”
“i hate you both!” you complain, flopping backwards in your agitation. “he’s going to break my heart.”
your friends exchange looks before aneko pipes up once again. “maybe you should talk to him about it.”
“as if!” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest. “he’s just going to rub it in my face.”
sakura squeezes your shoulder reassuringly. “sweetie, i really don’t think he’d do that.”
“but you don’t know if he will or not!” you let out another scream into your pillow, tears prickling your eyes. “how could i be so- so- so stupid?!”
“you’re not being stupid. it’s normal to catch feelings and you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. atsumu probably feels the same way.”
you roll your eyes, “yeah, right. he thought i hated him for the longest time.”
“but you made up for it,” aneko responds without missing a beat. “you literally stayed with him almost the entire time he was healing. and now, he’s back on the court doing better than ever.”
“not to mention the fact that you guys literally hang out every single day. it’s getting kind of lonely here,” sakura teases, ruffling your hair. “look, if atsumu doesn’t like you back, that just shows how much of a dick he is and is just a red flag avoided. it’s a win-win situation. you literally cannot lose.”
“she has a point, y’know,” aneko chuckles, “no matter what happens, you’d be the winner.”
“i guess so… ugh, why does this all have to be so confusing?”
“how about you tell him how you feel during his next game,” aneko suggests, pulling out her phone. “see, look, it says that they have a game next week. why don’t you tell him then?”
you nod, jumping to your feet in determination. “i can do this.”
***
you cannot do this.
there you sit on the last day of june, coincidentally also the last game of the season, palms hot and sweaty as you ruminate on whatever you’re going to do after the game is over. atsumu is performing as well as ever – sets dangerously accurate, serves powerful and as strategic as usual – and you can’t help the way your eyes are trained on him. it’s almost as if you couldn’t avert your eyes no matter how much you wanted to. even still, your heart is pounding in your chest (not because you were invested in the game) and you had half the mind to leave the stadium. only, that wasn’t an option because atsumu already spotted you in the crowd. why did you let your dumb friends convince you to do this?
the whistle sounds, bringing your out of your thoughts and you glance at the score board. 25 - 19, in favour of the jackals. both teams were filtering out of the gym as well as the spectators in the stands and you follow suit, squeezing through the throngs of people. you toss between leaving and staying again as you navigate through the crowds – maybe you can run from your problems? – only to quite literally run into your problem.
an ugly squawk escapes your lips and you cringe internally. ‘how romantic,’ you scoff to yourself sarcastically as you rub your forehead.
“oof, sorry, princess, are you okay?” atsumu steadies you in an instant, pushing your hair back to survey the damage. “no bruises?”
you let out an airy laugh. “no harm done. congrats on your win.”
he grins, winking, “anything for you, princess.” he pauses, looking you up and down. “what are you doing here?”
“nothing!” you reply quickly, and you kick yourself internally for being awkward. “uh… nothing.”
he hums in amusement, “so you only came here for the fun of it?”
you wonder how your roommates would react if you came back to the flat still single. would it be worth leaving right now? you’re only delaying the inevitable, you hear aneko’s voice in your head and you cringe because you can imagine her saying it in that disappointed motherly voice she uses. you can imagine sakura nodding beside her, giving you a look that screamed you’re a right idiot.
“i wanted to talk to you,” you find yourself saying, wringing your hands in anxiety. “you should change first. and shower.”
he throws his head back and laughs. “yeah, i’ll see you in a bit.”
a bit passes by quicker than expected with sakusa kiyoomi leaving the changing room’s first and nodding at you in respect, followed by hinata and bokuto who grin wildly and pat you on the shoulder before meeting their respective rides (you recognise one to be kageyama tobio, the setter for another volleyball team but the other is equally as attractive with dark hair and glasses framing his blue eyes). the rest of the team emerges from the showers, chattering away and obviously pumped about their win. you hear someone – their captain? – yell about drinks to which the remaining people there agree heartily, but you feel an arm rest on your shoulder.
“sorry, guys, but i have plans with this lovely lady. maybe next time!” he grins, propping his sports bag securely on his shoulder before walking you out.
“i- wait, ‘tsumu, if you have plans-”
his smile widens at the nickname and his hand moves to rest at your waist. “i do have plans! with you!”
your cheeks burn at his words and you laugh in response. you glance at him from the corner of your eye and he seems to be at ease. his hand brushes against yours for a seconds and you swallow thickly – are you reading too much into things? a breath escapes your lips as the two of you walk around the city, the moon appearing from behind some clouds as you do. for someone who was just running around wildly on a court, atsumu was certainly energetic.
“remember this place?” he asks, moving to stand between you and the road.
you only just realise your surroundings and you chuckle once you see the all too familiar street you were currently standing on. “of course i do.”
he laughs, throwing his head back, and you think it’s one of the nicest sounds you’ve ever heard.
the towering building that holds the renowned ise sueyoshi looms over the two of you, and you can’t help but feel nostalgic. the bright lights of the building shines through the windows and you can see the pale orange light against the inky blue sky. the kanji for the building is lit up in bright yellow, and you wouldn’t be surprised if the line was still long at this time of night.
a short walk later and you’re back at aoyama bridge, the cherry blossoms blowing gently through the wind. a few other people are scattered around the bridge, mostly couples holding hands save for the odd jogger or two. the walk was short – less than ten minutes – and you’re grateful for the fresh air. you rest your arms against the rails of the bridge, enjoying the cool air against your skin. atsumu stands beside you, his back against the rails and his bag on the floor.
“i wanted to talk to you,” you say finally after long moments of silence. you glance at your watch: ten minutes to midnight.
he quirks an eyebrow, turning his head to look at you fully. “what’s up?”
a breath leaves your lips as your wring your hands nervously over the railing. you look up at him with a small smile. “i like you.”
you expect him to laugh. to gloat in your face. to point and laugh and call you stupid. or maybe to run away with his tail between his legs. you expect him to stare at you in disgust and in annoyance, to roll his eyes and spit at your feet. you don’t, however, expect him to take a step towards you and cup your face with his warm calloused hands. you don’t, as much as you hoped, expect him to press his lips to yours, holding your gently as if you were porcelain. you don’t expect him to bring you closer to his chest, burying his head into your neck as he wraps his arms around your waist. but atsumu miya is full of surprises.
“i like you, too.” he mumbles, and you shiver from the way his breath brushes over the skin on your neck.
your heart is thundering in your chest and the blood rushes to your ears. “what?”
he laughs, bringing his head back up to look you in the eye. “i like you, too.”
one hand cups your cheek and the other pulls you in from your waist and he kisses you again. you pull away for air, cheeks warm and head spinning.
“yeah?”
another laugh. “of course i do, princess.” then he grins, “be my girlfriend? ya can’t say no.”
confusion enters your mind before it dawns on you. you glance at your watch – 11:59 pm. you gape at him, mouth opening and closing as you struggle to find something to say.
“i guess we both lose,” you say finally, rolling your eyes after you calm down.
he chuckles, taking your hand. “i’d say we’re both winners.”
you smile at his words. “couldn’t stand my charm, could you, miya?”
“as if!” he yells, snorting. “you fell for my charms, too!”
you stick your tongue out and swing your arms. “whatever you say, sweet cheeks.”
he kisses your cheek. “i do say, princess.”
you hum, breathing in the cool night air as you walk. “what do you think, ‘tsumu? waste of a lovely night?”
“absolutely not, princess.”
quick trivia:
ise sueyoshi: a real restaurant found in tokyo, japan. a high end restaurant that specialises in traditional japanese food.
aoyama bridge: a real bridge in tokyo, japan. approximate 9 minute walk from ise sueyoshi and is actually a tourist destination.
reblogs are always appreciated!
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