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shimishimii · 24 days

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six degrees of separation [first part]

Kuroo Tetsurou x gn reader

⎯ [wc: 2.5k] fluff to angst, has proper closure, but it’s part 1 of a mini six-part series, taglist is open, have a lovely day thanks for reading!

⎯ exes to enemies to lovers

| main masterlist | ♡ | next |

“who made your first love experience tragic, and you almost tear up every time you remember it?” your friend asks, you glance at the folded polaroid behind your phone case.

Kuroo Tetsurou did. But you shake his name away from your head, “just someone who likes this ice cream.”

As the summer breeze warms your cheeks and melts your ice cream, you felt you were back to when it started.

Classes were cancelled that day due to the high heat index and walking home under that sun would be brutal. Or maybe you are just making excuses when you see a raven-haired guy, a popular face among sophomores and freshmen. You notice he often stops by at the convenience store near your university. Maybe it sells some amazing snacks, you thought.

You began to like this specific popsicle the convenience store sells. It has cute designs, some based off on cartoon characters. But what you like about it the most was the short message engraved in the popsicle stick.

Days after, next thing you knew, you were always stopping by at the same convenience store, buying the same ice cream, sitting at the same corner, looking at the same guy.

His eyes were hazel from afar, and you wonder if you would see hints of gold and honey if you could just see him closer. His eyes are often narrowed and piercing, reminds you of a cunning feline's gaze that when he catches you sometime staring at him, it’s as if he has every answer for the questions you have yet to ask.

He’s definitely the athletic type. He could reach the tall shelves in the store and would sometimes help out the staff. He holds out the doors for women and elderly, greeting them when they walk in. He tells the little kids which snacks they should pick, helping them compute the total amount before paying. You also tried out his food recommendations and oh boy, he does not fail. He dances to some convenience store songs, sometimes he does it awkwardly, but most of the time he is actually talented.

You like seeing him smile, that soft genuine smile that appears not so often, but you could only look at him for a few seconds, because god you get weak when he smiles like that. You start to observe the things that makes him smile. His friends, eating, some science jokes you overhear, but so far no relationship partner. That was what you remembered. It was a relief.

You prepared a few conversation starters, but only your gaze tracing his silhouette could pass on the words left unsaid.

You bought the same popsicle you always like, hoping the message engraved on it would be different this time. You got the word unlucky marked on the popsicle stick yesterday, and also the other day, and some days before that.

Today may be the day your streak of misfortune ends before you could even see the message on the popsicle stick. Seems like luck is on your side this time because the guy you find cute takes the seat beside you. That’s new, you think. He was always with his friends. On the opposite table, near the counter, that was their spot. Today, he is alone.

Your hand felt sticky. The popsicle was dripping.

He points at your long-gone ice cream. “I really like that flavor” He smiles. “And that design too.”

You smile at him. I know. You always pick them at the bottom most part of the fridge. You compare their sizes even if they look controversially the same.

You look away after a few seconds, processing the features of his face like how he does have specks of gold in his eyes and that he smiled back. That damn smile. The dripping syrup slowly becomes a hazard to your fresh from laundry white pants. It did not catch your attention. But fortunately, it caught Kuroo’s.

“Excuse me, but your ice cream's got a mind of its own, it seems,” he says. “and you would not want that on white pants.”

“oh no,” Too late. You panic scooping out the falling liquid, still, a few drops painted your pants. “but I just washed this” you say, frowning.

He chuckles lightly, offering a tissue, “here, use this, ice cream stains can be hard to remove,” he hands you the tissue. “I just know”

I know that too. You once bought an ice cream sandwich, bit and kept it at your mouth as you played some games, and forgot you were eating an ice cream. Your white shirt was a disaster after.

“thanks” you took the tissue, cleaning your hand. You tried to remove the stain on your pants after. “that probably looked embarrassing” you kept scrubbing, smiling apologetically.

Kuroo places his hand at the back of his head. “Not really, it happened to me once or twice too”, he looks away, muttering softly, “…and you still look pretty.”

some imaginary audience cheers at the back of his mind, and other side of audience were gripping tightly, unsure if the smile on your face meant ‘that was cringe’ or ‘thanks’

He can’t believe he brags about his natural way with people but took weeks before having the courage to start a conversation with you. His friends would definitely ask him why. He was simply glad you like that ice cream flavor too and he has spare tissues.

you may have traded off a piece of your health from consuming ice cream every day before this conversation happened, but you still thank your past self for that sacrifice.

You remember the first time you met whenever you look back at those two popsicles sticks with engraved messages framed on your wall.

“you know, we could have known each other from jogging in the morning or at a gym” Kuroo looks at you with a raised brow, “but no, we both just have to be unhealthy.”

Kuroo replies with a soft smile, “we had an unhealthy first meet that’s because I was meant to take care of you”.

It started good. Because the feelings that bloomed in your heart may be the same to what Kuroo feels. The evidence of love and affection was written all over the year of your relationship. In each polaroid photo displayed across the wall of your room, you know cupid did his job well.

The first photo, marked on the first month you met, when Kuroo lets you lean on his shoulders while he plays whatever game he just discovered.

Second photo, on the fourth month, there was barely any context, it’s simply a photo of you together smiling. Because when Kuroo smiles, that smile you always love, you know that meant he was happy to see you, how he feels light and at ease with you.

Third photo, the seventh month, you are in Kuroo’s arms, his embrace gave warmth on that day he first saw you cry.

Fourth photo, the ninth month, in an expensive dinner date where you laughed with him because of his clip-on tie. Kuroo was too nervous that he felt his necktie choking him, and changed it minutes before you go out. That clip-on tie had pink paw prints design.

You hold the polaroid. In that photo, you both have wine glasses on your hand with him kissing your cheek. And you remember how he casually thinks of compliments that would make you blush, your hair, your clothes, and even noticing the new lip gloss you tried.

It was love, as you believed. This feeling. Because what else could it be? It was a conclusion you made up without prior knowledge to what love actually is.

You trusted the love Kuroo gave, never asked anything more than it, never questioned it.

Even if everything started to feel like it was not really romantic love. That it was just a thoughtful smile, a concerned hug, his natural way of words, and the love that was from just a friend who happened to like you a lot.

Yes, he was friendly, caring, charming, and thoughtful. You have no right to list a job description for a boyfriend, shouldn't you?

And they say great couples are simply best friends in love.

Looking back at most memories, it felt like you were really just a best friend, who happened to have the privilege of kissing him.

Someone he likes to be with, not someone he falls in love with.

It never was supposed to be a big deal. But people would often mistake you as ‘just another friend’. He was the same with everyone and you don’t want to dictate him to change.

But if he treats everyone the same, then it means what he does for you was not actually that special. It's just his natural way of being towards everyone. You started to think, maybe you were not a priority, just another friend amongst many.

You stay awake past midnight, with your thoughts loud, when you sink into the realization that there might not be really anything special at all. Because everything he did for you, warm hugs, compliments, leaning on his shoulders, those were just the perks of being Kuroo’s friend.

So, who are you in his life?

You know you are more than his friend.

Until less people stopped believing you were lovers, and maybe you stopped believing as well.

“So you’re close with him?” someone asks even if it was obvious you are Kuroo’s special someone. Maybe it did not look like that. Kuroo simply agrees that you two are close. Same likes, agrees with almost anything, vibes a lot. Typical best friend qualities. Of course you wanted to feel it was more than that.

“That’s Kuroo’s special friend” and that might be the worst introduction you have ever received. The word special, losing the meaning it once held.

At least you were someone to him, that still meant something right?

Sure, it was your own demons. How you started to feel like crouching when he stands beside you. His tall figure shining in daylight as you walk down the street during your dates, but as hours pass by and the sun changes position, you notice you have become just a shadow.

Worse, you started to feel like you were not enough when you're with him.

You appreciate who Kuroo is.

Dating him was a gamble against your own insecurities. You know what you were getting into, you know the hole you might fall into. But you haven't learned yet how to get up. As each monthsary gets celebrated, you were falling further and deeper into the abyss of your inferiority. And Kuroo did not even notice you were no longer beside him during parties, or at some special events. He forgot what ice cream flavor you like. He no longer corrects people mistaking you as just his friend.

On your first anniversary, the wine on your glass was gone a few minutes ago, you needed the courage.

Kuroo reaches out for your hand, you held it for a second, squeezing it slightly, and slowly letting it go. He clicks his tongue, noticing your avoidance for weeks. You used to hold hands everywhere you went, but now you avoid touching altogether.

“Can you at least look at me?” he asks.

You shift your gaze from his hands to his face.

"Why won't you look at me?" his voice was firm, almost disappointed.

"Because every time I do, I see what we've become."

It was his turn to look away.

"Do you remember when we first met?" you ask.

"I try not to."

You don’t know what he meant by that.

The silence between you grows louder with each passing day, until it's suffocating. Kuroo is not wearing a clip-on tie, you noticed. He tugs his necktie, adjusting it every now and then.

You try to salvage what's left of your relationship, maybe this anniversary date should do it. But it's like trying to hold onto sand slipping through your fingers.

You pour another batch of wine on your glass before speaking, "You know how you always used to say, 'The grass is greener where you water.' Remember?"

"Yeah, I still stand by that. It's about perspective."

"Perspective? How about the perspective of feeling invisible in a relationship?” Kuroo does not like where you’re going, where this is going. “Do you—do you even still see me?"

"Of course not” He tries to hold your hand again and you hold onto him. “of course I see you.”

Kuroo speaks again. “But sometimes, what you think doesn't really matter.”

You scoff.

“But those are my feelings” your voice is getting higher, you adjusted your seat, you feel like sinking in the chair. "So my feelings don't matter to you?"

"No, that's not what I meant.” he sighs before continuing, “I just think you're overthinking these things."

"Overthinking? Maybe I'm just realizing I deserve better. Maybe, just maybe, I deserve to be seen and valued." you try to catch your breath. It sounded almost like a plea.

His lips stay pressed on a thin line. He was no longer holding your hand. You were looking at his direction. He is looking down, holding his fork, tapping his plate.

You know staying in this relationship could mean getting invisible day by day. Not until he could no longer see you, worse, until you could no longer see yourself.

Sucks to end it that way, you could almost laugh bitterly at this situation, cliche even.

He looks at you, for the last time that he could, then mumbles. "I never wanted it to come to this."

You slowly look away, your eyes betraying a mixture of hurt and determination. "Let’s just leave this memory as a good one” you hold his hand, for the last time that you could, “I don’t want to end things ugly and start hating you.”

Because you know you never could. You wanted things to end while he was still someone you love.

Kuroo was not looking at you anymore. He felt a shiver, realizing the absence of warmth from your hand.

“Isn’t it enough that I see and value you?”

“Do you really see me? Or am I just another name on your close friends list?”

He sighs again, longer than the previous, as if he was afraid of speaking more, "Well, if that's how you feel, I’m sorry"

"Is that all you have to say?"

“You know, I—” Kuroo can’t understand why he can’t say those words. It takes three words for him to fix this. He stayed silent. And it took just a fraction of his silence for you to realize there was no use to trying to fix this.

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kuroosdarling · 11 months

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AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES — ༉‧₊˚.

ft. roomie!matsukawa ! — the masterlist.

disclaimer: these can be read as singular pieces or in order. each fic will be updated with its own set of tags. thank you for reading !

ᥫ᭡. MY ONLY VICE — mattsun always had a bad habit. but with your help, maybe he can change that. question is, are you willing?

‎꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI. f!reader, cigarette smoking, unprotected sex, oral f!receiving, fingering, semi-public sex — WC : 2.2k

ᥫ᭡. STORMY NIGHTS — the thunderstorm rages on outside, but what can you do about the one inside of you?

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI. f!reader, unprotected sex, praise, minimal prep tbh, oral (f!receiving), fingering, slight cervix fucking, creampie, light dose of aftercare — WC : 2.6k

ᥫ᭡. WHAT ARE FRIENDS FOR — working at a funeral home can take its toll. aka mattsun comes home after a bad day at work.

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : hurt/comfort, pining, cigarette smoking, mentions of death, mattsun has the beginnings of an existential crisis : WC — 1.7k

ᥫ᭡. THE WORST GUYS — the dating scene sucks. especially when the only man you actually want to be with is your roommate.

more coming soon …

#⁺. ʚ now streaming:#ᥫ᭡. — and they were roommates #matsukawa issei x reader #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa issei #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #matsukawa smut #matsukawa issei smut #haikyuu smut #hq smut #haikyuu series #hq series

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dollysilena · 1 year

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TRAINING WHEELS

CHAPTER THREE | BABY ON BOARD

ao3 | series masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

five years ago, you stupidly had a fling with inarizaki athlete, miya atsumu– now, present day– he had a son he knew nothing about. you made sure it was going to stay that way, but as fate would have it, he unexpectedly stumbled back into your lives, now as volleyball’s biggest star.

wc & notes: 3.5k — this chapter was originally going to be 7k+ words, but for my own sanity during editing i decided to split it in two different chapters instead! i also thought it would be easier to read in separate chapters instead of just one really condensed one so pls forgive me 🗿

The past twelve hours had been a whirlwind for Miya Atsumu.

His day started late, but not out of his own fault! He swore it. It was just because his alarm clock didn’t go off. At least that’s what he told Coach Foster when he walked into practice late with a Starbucks frappuccino. But hey, at least he got one for everyone right? The team nutritionist yelled at him later for it because sugar wasn’t on the regiment, especially with the V-League season so soon. Hinata gladly slurped down the drink though, which consequently sent him into a sugar rush later. And once that happened, their coach chewed out Atsumu for the ginger’s erratic playing. It seemed like the scolding was neverending, but he shook it off as practice continued. He thought that the rest of the day was going to go on without any more hitches, up until he got a call from his brother.

“She’s here right now with a kid. He’s four years old, and I don’t think the fact he looks like ya is a coincidence.”

The air stilled, and despite the clamor and ruckus of the gym around him, all Atsumu heard was the ringing in his ears and the silence on Osamu’s end. A kid?

There was no way. Osamu was just messing with him, right? It was just a prank, Suna or one of their friends probably put him up to it. There’s no way that… that he actually… He thought of you, something his mind hadn’t crossed paths with in awhile. You were just a girl who left him high and dry five years ago… without a word. He wanted to tell himself he wasn’t convinced, but something lurching in his stomach told him otherwise.

The denial didn’t stop Atsumu from abruptly running out of practice. He would deal with what the coaches had to say later.

FIVE YEARS AGO — INARIZAKI HIGH SCHOOL

“What’s up with ya?” Atsumu questioned, slumping down on the seat infront of your desk as he faced yours. “Yer acting funny, ya sick or something?”

Atsumu couldn’t care less about the fact he was bothering you in the middle of class, all he could think about is how weird you’ve been acting with him. He thought things were going good with you over the past few weeks, maybe a little too good considering you both… He shook it off. You’ve been acting odd all week, suddenly barely sparing him a glance. Despite the fact you both weren’t dating, he had to admit it was bugging him more than it should’ve.

“What makes you say that?” You responded, almost defensively. You didn’t look up from your math worksheet, and to anyone else, it would just look like you were focused on your work, but Atsumu knew you were distracted, you hadn’t moved from the same problem for over ten minutes.

“Well, ya barely have been talking to me this week first of all,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “And not to mention one of your friends told me you went home early yesterday because of food poisoning.” He didn’t mean to reveal that he had been asking around about you, but you didn’t seem to linger on it.

You fiddled with the pencil on your desk, clearly avoiding his eyes. “Why does it matter to you? It’s none of your business, Miya.”

Miya? Harsh.

“And here I thought ya liked me!” Atsumu replied, melodramatically clutching his chest as if he were wounded, albeit, his ego was admittedly a little bruised. “Of course what my girl does matters to me.”

You couldn’t help yourself from cracking a smile, and Atsumu considered it a victory.

“We’re not even dating, we met a couple weeks ago,” you replied, shaking your head.

Atsumu rolled his eyes. Though, you were right, you had never made anything official. It was all just harmless fun, right?

“That didn’t seem to matter when we–”

“Be quiet!” you hissed in embarrassment. Atsumu smirked when he noticed how flustered you got. When you realized Atsumu wasn’t going to let up, you gave him another sigh.

“I think I’m just not feeling well, probably a stomach bug or something.”

“Blegh!” Atsumu replied, sticking out his tongue. “Well don’t give it to me!”

You bore a small grin at him. Atsumu smiled back, happy that he was at least able to make you feel a little better that day.

He didn’t think that would be the last time he ever saw you.

He was going to walk you home that day and he even considered finally formally asking you out. Granted, he probably should have done that before the… bathroom incident, but he digressed. He went to your classroom later only to find your desk empty. Your classmates already said you left and he shrugged it off. He would just wait until the next day.

Then you were absent the next day, and the day after.

It wasn’t until a whole week had passed where he felt himself starting to get worried.

You weren’t answering his texts, and after awhile, they didn’t even deliver anymore. He thought things were going well, at least to him they were… Whatever, he wasn’t going to let it get to him. If you didn’t want to talk to him anymore, so be it, it wasn’t his problem. People walked out on him all the time. He repeated it like a mantra, whatever, whatever, whatever.

But it doesn’t stop him from thinking.

As the days progressed, he felt himself plunging deeper into his doubtful thoughts. You weren’t avoiding him on purpose were you? He didn’t realize how much it was getting to him until he missed practically every set during practice because he was too busy thinking of your smile at him instead of where Osamu’s hand was. He was tired of it, he finally decided he wasn’t going to wait for you to show up. He would get the answers himself.

Afterschool, he followed the trek to your house and stirred silently. Why was he even bothered this much about some girl he barely knew? You weren’t the first girl he was with, and he didn’t plan for you to be the last. So why was it bothering him so much? He wasn’t sure why, but it crept up his spine like a chill.

Miya Atsumu isn’t someone you can leave, he’s always made sure of it. He’s never the one left behind. He doesn’t want to be.

He stood on your doorstep, deliberating with himself if it was even worth it. But he didn’t come all this way for nothing. Even if you told him to get lost, atleast it would put an end to his endless lamenting. It would be better than having you plague him like a damn fever. He knocked.

He doesn’t expect your mother to answer.

“What do ya mean she moved?” Atsumu asked in disbelief.

“She’s gone to live with her grandmother in Kagawa,” your mother stated firmly. “I don’t think you’ll be seeing her anytime soon.”

Before Atsumu could pry for any other details, your mother spoke again.

“Don’t ever come back to this house.”

Then the door was slammed in his face.

PRESENT DAY

Despite his best attempts at staying in denial, he realized that all the signs were there. You were getting sick, avoiding him, your sudden disappearance. He should have known something was wrong when your mother forbade him from coming back without a reason. His mind was a flurry as he rushed through the streets of Osaka. The little voice in the back of his head that was saying it was impossible was getting flooded out, it was entirely too possible.

In his rush inside Onigiri Miya, he was met with a body crashing into him. He looked down to see a horrified face infront of him, it’s yours. And in your arms, an unassuming boy that looked indisputably like him. A moment passed, as if the world stopped spinning on its axis. The panic seemed to be flooding out of your body and into the room. His mouth felt dry and whatever was spinning through his mind was suddenly a standstill. His gaze followed back to the boy, and his heart lurched.

There was no doubt about it, he had a son.

Even if you hadn’t told him, Atsumu could instinctively already tell, something in his gut just knew. He shared his smile, his brown eyes, and even his naturally dark hair that swept in the same way Atsumu’s did when he was that age. There was a piece of him out there, and he didn’t know all these years.

He barely choked out, “could we talk?”

While you both spoke at the table together, and as he gazed at Haru playing with Osamu and your friend not far away, he found himself wondering so many questions. What had Haru looked like when he was a baby? What was he like? Was he more energetic and lively like him? Or more quiet and reserved like his brother was? Was anyone there to help you through the pregnancy? What were his first words? Did he ever ask about him once he was old enough to understand what a father was?

“Atsumu, you realize what you’re asking right? You’re agreeing to be a father, which you just found out right now of all things. It’s a commitment, no take backsies.”

He knew he should’ve weighed the circumstances more, you were right after all, it was a commitment, a life-long one. Not to mention he barely found out an hour ago. Did he even know how to be a father? Infact, Atsumu hadn’t even considered kids in his life yet. He thought he had a long time before he thought he ever had to make that decision.

He thought about Haru, and how for years, he didn’t grow up with a father. His jaw hardened. Four years was too long for him to be absent. He couldn’t just… walk out. When he looked at Haru, he couldn’t possibly think of going on with living his life while knowing his son was out there.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

After your talk and once the situation was settled, atleast as much as it could be, Atsumu had offered to walk you home for the night. You decided to opt out of the company party you were attending for obvious reasons, and Naomi made sure to pass the news on to your boss about a “family emergency”.

Now there he was, walking down the streets with his ex highschool fling, and his child. Whoever said life worked in unexpected ways, he wasn’t quite imagining this.

You both walked in silence, with Haru in your arms as he slept soundly. Atsumu wasn’t sure what to say, or if he even wanted to break the silence, so he kept quiet. Throughout the walk, he found himself stealing glances at you, and it felt as if he were meeting you all over again. You obviously weren’t the same girl he knew all those years ago. You held yourself up with a maturity he felt like he couldn’t match. Unlike him, sometimes he still felt like the clumsy kid he was in highschool. Maturity was something he always seemed to lack. His friends and brother always made sure to remind him of that whenever he behaved so.

He looked down at Haru, still fast asleep. He imagined it was well past his bedtime now. You stifled a yawn as you carried the small boy, the tiredness seemed to be contagious. He saw your shoulders beginning to sag, and Atsumu realized you had been carrying him for the better portion of the walk.

“Here, let me take him,” he offered. “You’re tired.”

You looked up at him, with a raised eyebrow. “Have you held a kid before?”

He felt himself pause. Had he held a kid before? There were a few times at family reunions where he held the children of distant family members but that had all been for mere seconds before another family member scooped them up. He remembered how his mom was able to hold him and his brother at once for hours on end, how hard could it be?

“No, but I want to try seeing as I have one now.”

You laughed and extended Haru out to Atsumu, who gently took the boy as if he were made of porcelain. Haru shifted in his sleep, but comfortably adjusted into the setter’s arms.

He heard your laugh beside him and he immediately stiffened up. Had he done something wrong?

“He’s not a volleyball,” you chuckled, “hold him up from here.” You went to adjust Atsumu’s position and pushed up his arm so Haru’s weight could rest on it. He felt his cheeks burn in embarrassment, apparently it was harder than he thought.

“Good,” you replied, patting his arm, and he had to stop himself from blushing when he felt your fingers brushing his arm. “Now just keep him there.”

Atsumu nodded as you continued your walk. It’s then that the thought hit him—when he was finally holding Haru in his arms—that he's his.

His arms instinctively held Haru tighter. No, he couldn’t be doubtful now. There was too much on the line and too much time lost. Unlike the past four years, he swore that he would be there from now on, no matter what.

You both rounded the corner before you got to your apartment complex, a smaller building in the quieter part of the city. You both had lived here all this time, and he didn’t know. Had he ever walked down this street unknowingly?

“This is us,” you stated, gesturing to the building. He felt himself trying to come up with something to say, but nothing came out. He just knew he didn’t want the night to end, there was still so much he had to know.

“Would you like to come in for a bit? I have some pictures of Haru I could show you.” You asked, and it was like you read his mind.

“I would like that.”

He followed you inside and into the elevator where you led him to your apartment. You flicked on the lights and Atsumu glanced around. He looked around and saw Haru’s toys laying about, pictures of the two of you framed around the home, he even spotted Haru’s homework still strewn out on the coffee table. You both crept inside, careful to be quiet as to not wake Haru. You led him down a hallway and opened a door to what he presumed was Haru’s room, and ushered him inside.

Atsumu carried the boy inside his room, and looked around. He saw his drawings framed along the walls, toys, stuffed animals, and noticed a volleyball near his toy trunk. He made a mental note to ask Haru about that later. He padded over to the bed, and set him down so he was laying. You came up beside him, and tucked the covers over him before kissing his forehead.

He realized this was the first time he was putting his son to sleep. Was this what having a family was like?

You both quietly exited the room, making sure to close Haru’s door so he wasn’t disturbed by you both outside.

“I can make us some tea,” you said, as he nodded. He didn’t even really like tea, he was just glad he could stay. He followed you to the kitchen, where he took a seat at the kitchen island while you put the kettle on the stove.

“Is it just ya two here?” He asked, looking around. You had some pictures framed up, as well as some photographs hung on the fridge which he could see. But from what he could tell, it was only you, Haru, and sometimes Naomi in the photos.

“Yup,” you responded, pulling out two mugs from the cabinet above you. “Since Haru was born, really.”

Atsumu felt his heart in his stomach. “Even when ya were pregnant?”

Atsumu saw you still, and he hoped he didn’t open an old wound. He scolded himself for not being more sensitive, and letting his own curiosity get the better of him.

“When I told my parents, they kicked me out,” you stated bluntly, putting the tea bags in the cups. “They sent me to live with my grandmother, who was amazingly supportive, but she died before Haru was born, so since then it was just us.”

Atsumu was silent, he wasn't sure what to say. I’m sorry? I’m sorry that I wasn’t there? But that wasn’t enough, it didn’t change what you had to go through. The thought of you being in that delivery room by yourself only added onto the guilt on his shoulders, and his heart sank even further when he realized you had to do everything else alone too.

“Atleast Haru’s birth was quick!” You joked, a smile beaming on your face. Despite all that, you were still… positive? Atsumu was in disbelief, he probably couldn’t go through a fraction of what you had and still manage to put on a brave front. He always got into a mood, as Osamu called it, even at the smallest of inconveniences. You pushed a cup of tea towards him which he took graciously.

“Yer amazing,” he said in awe.

“It’s just tea,” you laughed, blowing on your cup. Atsumu shook his head.

“No,” he responded. “For everything. For what ya had to go through, and what you’ve done for Haru. And at eighteen? Osamu was still packing my lunches when I was that age.”

You laughed in response and it made his cheeks warm. He liked the sound, he thought.

“Let me get those photo albums I was talking about,” you said before walking into another room. You came back a few minutes later holding a few photo books.

“Do you wanna start with the first one?” You asked, holding one out.

Atsumu eagerly nodded as he took the dusty blue album, decorated with ribbons and stickers. He could tell you had decorated it yourself. It showcased a picture of you holding a newborn Haru in the hospital. The picture almost made Atsumu frown, knowing you were by yourself that day, but he ended up smiling seeing how proudly you beamed holding the baby. He opened the book and inspected inside.

There was a sonogram of each phase Haru was in during your pregnancy, and eventually a few photos of Haru being born in the hospital. He saw the tiny notes you wrote besides the pictures, and his mouth grew agape when he saw 3.68kg written next one of Haru’s pictures.

“Yeah,” you chuckled, noticing his expression. “He was a big baby, I guess since his dad’s a pro athlete and everything.”

His face grew more horrified and he almost wanted to apologize. He apologize to his mom too considering she had twins. Then another picture caught his attention.

“Hey, what’s this one?” He asked, pointing to another photo.

He pointed towards a picture that looked somewhat recent, he could tell since Haru seemed to be almost the same age in the picture as he was now. It was of you in a graduation cap and gown holding up Haru proudly who looked like he was cheering. It definitely wasn’t your high school graduation since Haru was in it.

“Oh, that’s when I graduated from university last year.”

“Ya completed university?” Atsumu asked in astonishment.

“Yeah,” you grinned. “Pretty proud of myself. I was working two jobs and had to take night classes for a couple years but I ended up getting my degree finally a few months ago, then I got a great job at the firm I’m at now.”

No, you’re not just amazing, you’re phenomenal.

The rest of the night was filled with you and Atsumu looking over Haru’s pictures, some of his favorites being Haru’s second birthday where he had cake painted across his face from where he tried to eat his birthday cake face-first, his first day of preschool (which he found out he started this year), and one of you and Haru at a festival with matching daifuku in hand. He made a mental note to take you both when he saw how brightly you both smiled. Whenever he wasn’t looking at the photos, he was paying attention to you. He was getting to know you again.

“It’s getting late,” you yawned. “I have work tomorrow, and I probably have to explain why I missed the party tonight.”

Atsumu groaned. “That reminds me, I have to explain to my coaches tomorrow why I ran out of practice, they probably won’t believe me though.”

You giggled, before sliding out the picture of Haru’s second birthday from the book. “Maybe you can use this as proof.”

Atsumu took the photo and smiled warmly in the picture in his hands. The picture would find a well-loved home in his wallet, but would later be replaced with a picture of the three of you adorning matching jerseys on Haru’s eighth birthday at one of Atsumu’s games.

reblogs, comments, & asks are appreciated!

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#haikyuu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu fluff #miya atsumu series #miya atsumu x you #atsumu fluff #atsumu series #atsumu x you #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu series #my writing

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zmbiesuga · 5 months

Text

SPEAK NOW ! (hq's ver) series masterlist ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

ʚ summary ɞ : due to my constant need to associate taylor songs with haikyuu boys, i've decided to create a series where i take four characters + 3 songs off an album and create a story for each of them. some stories end well, while others tragically end in heartbreak.

ʚ includes ɞ : post timeskip, daichi sawamura, suna rintarou, shoyo hinata, oikawa tooru, vulgar language, cheating (suna's, but not on reader & oikawa's), clubbing + alcohol consumption (hinata's), vulgar language, fluff, angst, all nsfw chapters will be marked with an asterisk ! [*], gender neutral, although like most of my works the pronouns for the reader will rarely ever be mentioned.

ཐིཋ๋ྀ࣭ ⭑ DAICHI SAWAMURA :

O1 : MINE

⤷ “ you are the best thing that's ever been mine. ”

O2 : THE STORY OF US

⤷ “ but the story of us looks a lot like a tragedy now. ”

O3 : BACK TO DECEMBER

⤷ “ but if we loved again, i swear i'd love you right. ”

ཐིཋ๋ྀ࣭ ⭑ SUNA RINTAROU :

O1 : BETTER THAN REVENGE

⤷ “ she took him faster than you could say sabotage. ”

O2 : I CAN SEE YOU *

⤷ “ passed me a note saying: meet me tonight. ”

O3 : SPEAK NOW

⤷ “ and they said speak now. ”

ཐིཋ๋ྀ࣭ ⭑ HINATA SHOYO :

O1 : ENCHANTED

⤷ “ please don't be in love with someone else. ”

O2 : WHEN EMMA FALLS IN LOVE

⤷ “ when emma falls in love, she disappears. ”

O3 : ELECTRIC TOUCH *

⤷ “ and i want you now, wanna need you forever. ”

ཐིཋ๋ྀ࣭ ⭑ OIKAWA TOORU :

O1 : SPARKS FLY

⤷ “ my mind forgets to remind me you're a bad idea. ”

O2 : FOOLISH ONE

⤷ “ 'cause you got her on your arm and me in the wings. ”

O3 : HAUNTED

⤷ “ something keeps me holding on to nothing. ”

#˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ love letters from leo #♡ : haikyuu #haikyuu series #hq series #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu smut #hq smut #daichi x reader #suna x reader #suna smut #hinata x reader #hinata smut #oikawa x reader #꩜ .ᐟ nsft

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rishiguro · 7 months

Text

51; TRANSFERRED

shocked, iwaizumi stumbled a couple of steps back, barely managing to catch himself before losing his balance completely.

surely he must have misheard.

with furrowed eyebrows, he stared down at the floor, flexing and relaxing his free hand at his side, the other one clutching the paper bag in it tightly.

they probably didn’t mean you. there was probably another patient by the same name in this ward too and surely they talked about them.

not you.

he tried to reason with himself, shaking his head slowly as he gathered his thoughts.

surely that was just a mistake.

he swallowed before taking a deep breath.

and if it wasn’t, you‘d tell him and you would figure it out together, just like you always assured each other you would.

as he tried to shake off the uncomfortable feeling, he quickly hurried forward, now feeling more desperate than ever to see your face.

iwaizumi had to remind himself that you would be alright.

taking another deep breath, he knocked on the door to your room, entering shortly after when he heard you call out.

as soon as he saw you, a smile spread on his lips. “hello, pretty,” he greeted you, pressing a kiss on your temple before backing off and raising the paper bag clutched in his hand up. “care for some fries?”

“god i love you,” you exclaimed, not being able to stop yourself as you extended your arm towards it.

iwaizumi chuckled when he passed the bag on to you. “i can get used to you greeting me like that”

“oh shut up,“ you mumbled and rolled your eyes, immediately opening the bag and taking out a couple of fries. iwaizumi opted to finally sit down beside you.

crispy, salty, unhealthy. how you had missed fast food.

for a while the two of you just sat there, silently enjoying the fried potatoes. after you were done, you threw the bag into the trash and mindlessly chatted away with your boyfriend.

what you didn’t know however, was how his thoughts were running in his mind.

you looked okay to him. exhausted and certainly not healthy, but not particularly worse. maybe he did understand the nurses wrong earlier. it couldn’t be that bad, could it?

he knew that pondering would get him nowhere, especially since it seemed like you weren’t going to address it. iwaizumi wanted to take this as confirmation that he was wrong, that you were fine, that you were going to be fine.

but he had to be sure.

“how are you feeling?” he carefully asked, turning his head slightly to observe you.

you simply shrugged a little, your expression changing a little. the smile in you face got washed away, your eyebrows furrowing a little for a split second — long enough for iwaizumi to notice. “fine”

you didn’t even have to glance at him to notice his stern expression. he clearly didn’t believe you, and honestly, you wouldn’t either. “okay, no, i’m not,” you sighed, pressing your lips to a thin line. “i mean what do you expect, i got pneumonia for the n-th time again at this point you’d think i’d at least get some variety,” you tried to joke halfheartedly.

iwaizumi hated the look on your face these past weeks. whenever you thought he didn’t look, and even in times you knew he looked, you looked so defeated. sad, almost hopeless. and he could only sit there, try to be there for you as best as possible, while you practically withered away. he leaned over to you, hands engulfing yours. “love—“

you however immediately shot down his attempt. “can we not talk? please,” you asked him in a rather timid tone, “i just… i just want to cuddle a little, if that’s alright”

“sure” you made some space for him on your bed and were immediately in your boyfriends arms, your head laying on his chest as you listened to his heartbeat.

you loved moments like these. no conversation, no forced smiles, no guilt for being stuck here, forced to stay in the palliative ward when you used to go out so much and have fun outside together.

this was simply you and him, enjoying each others company, listening to your heartbeat, his warmth making you feel safe and sound.

however, not even the calm look on your relaxed face could help to calm iwaizumi’s mind. it plagued him too much, his worry overtaking everything else.

“hey, can i ask you something?” he decided to try again, fingers absentmindedly caressing your skin. “it’s a bit heavy and honestly, i’m not sure if you want to answer”

you glanced up at him for a moment, waiting for him to continue, before you turned your gaze downwards again, beginning to trace his tattoos.

he clenched his jaw for a moment. “why didn’t you tell me that you were getting transferred?”

your fingers stopped, hovering over his skin. “what do you mean?” you tried to fake ignorance, hoping that you somehow misheard what he said.

“hospice,” iwaizumi clarified, sounding defeated himself. “look, i overheard some nurses talking, okay? i know”

opening and closing your mouth for a couple of times, you found yourself unable to say anything.

hospice.

he knew? he heard? what were you supposed to say?

hospice.

everything was moving so fast, you felt like you couldn’t keep up with it.

and now he knew too?

what were you even supposed to do? you hadn’t processed the news yourself yet, even though it has been days since you‘ve been told.

“love, talk to me,” he whispered desperately, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers. “tell me what’s going on in your head. we can figure this out together, i promise. we‘ll be okay”

evanescent

/ɛvəˈnɛs(ə)nt,iːvəˈnɛs(ə)nt/ — “soon passing out of sight, memory, or existence; quickly fading or disappearing.”

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valleyofheartz · 9 days

Text

Nine: …Chuupets?

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·. .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·. .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·. .·:*¨༺

You found out Suna’s favourite snack through Atsumu.

Chuupets are easy to make but you didn’t tell Suna that.

Suna is not used to people sticking around.

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#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #suna rintaro x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x y/n #suna fluff #suna x you #haikyuu smau #suna angst #suna smau #haikyuu series

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nishisun · 1 year

Text

DOCTOR’S PET — MATSUKAWA ISSEI.

paring: optometrist!issei x reader

summery: you should’ve known something was up when you stumbled across that sketchy advertisement... dr. matsukawa is a fucking nut job.

warnings: nsfw, dub-con, fingering, vaginal penetration, manipulation, uses of vibrator, he’s like in his 40’s, reader is in her 20s. PLEASE READ AUTHORS NOTE BELOW.

a/n: suprise! i am not back, but i realized that i had 14 drafts so i am queuing them because i will soon deactivating this blog, but i’m not sure yet. i’m not sure if this work is finished, so i apologize for any cliff hangers my works have! this was originally written back in late 2020, so excuse the writing if it’s horrible. thank you for the support i received in this blog! i do plan on creating a new blog so this work may be transported to that one if it seems familiar, but i will also make note of that to avoid confusion.

It should not have gotten to this.

Seriously. You’d think that as medical school enrollments expanded the system would do the best they could and resolve the physician shortage by adding more residency slots in the Miyagi Prefecture. That wasn’t the case at all.

In fact, all the residencies and medical internships you’ve applied for haven’t gotten back to you. It’s been over a month now, and the only emails you’ve received from them are ‘I’m sorry to inform you’ letters and ‘waitlisted’. Not even one acceptance letter. It sucked.

Just when you lost hope, you stumbled across an article for one that was unrealistically near you.

‘Medical Internships Available for Upcoming Optometrist! Miyagi’s Hospital Center: Medical Training Program ran by Dr. Matsukawa Issei, MD. Location: Dr. Matsukawa’s Office.’

It sounded way too good to be true... and it was only a 15-minute drive from your place..? Out of mere curiosity, you clicked on the advertisement without a second thought and ah — there it was; a catch.

Only one person could be accepted.

Well, desperate times call for desperate measures, so you filled the application anyways and hoped for the best.

And for some odd reason, you were actually selected.

You don’t know how, but you actually got chosen. Now here you are, in front of his office in your car. You take one last anxious look in your rear-view mirror, reassuring yourself that you looked somewhat presentable before gathering your belongings and heading to the entrance.

“Here goes nothing.”

Once you push past the doors, you couldn’t help but notice how empty the lobby was. There weren’t any patients waiting, and the T.V used for entertainment purposes was off. Maybe the office was closed? You brush these thoughts off before turning your head to be greeted by a lady. She seemed young, about the same age as you or a little bit older.

“Hello?” she calls, she doesn’t bother looking up at you as she continues to type away on the computer. You turn your head around swiftly to face her, offering an awkward smile.

“Oh! Uh, Hi! I came for Dr. Matsukawa’s internship program?” The woman makes a face that you can’t read — confusion, you might say? Either way, she does an excellent job concealing it as she rolls a pen and a few papers your way.

“Fill these forms out for me and I’ll tell Dr. Matsukawa that you’re ready for him.” she explains, giving you a tight lipped smile.

You take the papers and pen, taking a seat on one of the many comfortable chairs in the room. You finished filling out the form rather quickly, getting up to return the papers back to the front desk, until you suddenly hear bickering. It sounds like the lady that was at the front desk not too long ago and oh, a male voice too. Although you shouldn’t, you let your curiosity get the best of you.

“Hey, is everything okay here — oh.”

It’s the doctor himself. He raises an eyebrow at you, his attention that was once on the lady was now at you, then looking down at the folders he was currently holding, rummaging through them. He looks back at you, using his pointer finger to gently lift up his glasses.

“You must be L/N?” he clears his voice, as if he wasn’t just arguing with the lady next to him seconds ago, waiting for you to reply.

Dr. Matsukawa is extremely attractive.

The hell? Since when did you have a thing for older men? Is that wrong to say? He looks like a very busy man, even though there were no patients currently in the office. There’s a huge height difference between him and the lady and the way he has to look down at you leaves you with no choice but to close bite on your bottom lip.

Your eyes wander down to his lower body, meeting the dress shoes he was currently wearing, and from there, your eyes take in the tight black pants and the way his fitted navy blue shirt outlined his abs slightly, his white lab coat topping the outfit.

“Ms. L/N?” The man calls out again, his fingers gripping the stacks of files in his hand a bit tighter as he gave you a concerned look. Your head jerks up immediately to face Dr. Matsukawa, your stomach doing flips when you make eye contact with him. “Ms. L/N Y/N is your name. Am I correct?”

You gulp, eagerly nodding your head. “Uh, Yeah — Yes. Yes, that’s my name.” You stammered. You break eye contact with the doctor, eyes drifting to the lady standing next to him.

Dr. Matsukawa flashes you a bright smile before giving you a firm nod, lifting his arm to direct you to another room. “You can follow me — Is everything alright, miss?”

“Y-Yes!” You mindlessly shake your head, struggling to move your feet from where they’re planting. You’ve suddenly realized how unprofessional you’ve been acting and it’s because of the extremely hot doctor in front of you.

“Please, take a seat.”

He’s taken you to a.. patients room..? You were expecting an office. You’re assuming this is where he’ll be discussing the activities you’ll be doing today. You take a seat in the medical recliner, examining the room as he brings out your information in a folder. “Your files show that you’re a really good student, who has a great amount of experience on leadership skills and opportunities,” he affirmed. He looks up at you, shifting in his seat as he continues to look over your papers.

“Uh, Yes, that’s true. I can name some—“

“Let’s get straight to the objective for today, shall we?” The way he suddenly interrupted you by slamming the folder together causes you to flinch, there’s a sudden mischief in his eyes that cause your throat to dry up, and now he’s staring at you. Like boring his eyes on you waiting for a response. You swallow hardly before nodding, causing him to grin. “I’ve already reviewed everything I need to know about you. I don’t want to waste another minute.”

He’s nice. Weird, but nice. Which doesn’t help because his odd (yes, odd) behavior was turning you to someone who you weren’t, which was shy. You’d like to say you’re a pretty confident and outgoing person who’s able to maintain eye contact and keep a conversation going with others, but for some reason, this man in front of you was different.

“I’m going to be running some test. I hope that’s fine with you?” He announced, leaning foward while adjusting the nobs on the lamp. You should be asking questions, you should, because you didn’t know this interview would require “tests”. You don’t even care to at this point, you’re just grateful you got selected, so you nod your head. “Perfect. I’ll start by checking your eyesight.”

“Uh, Dr. Matsukawa, forgive me for overstepping , but what do these test have to do with the internship?” The doctor hums in acknowledgment, leaning down so he can get a good look at your eyes through the lens.

“Can you see the dot?”

You squint your eyes so you can see the so called ‘dot’ he’s talking about more clearly “Yes, I can, but—“

“This was mentioned and is definitely part of the internship Ms. L/N. Did you not read the form?” He sighs, writing some notes down in his paper and you can’t even feel guilty because you’re too distracted at how big his hands are, huge knuckles and veiny. How can someone’s hand be so attractive?

“Well, I did but I just didn’t really see where it said that on the form, so I didn’t think that you’d be running some ‘tests’.” You quote his words from earlier, nervously chuckling. He sighs again.

“I’m going to test your eye pressure.” He stands up, holding an object similar to a pointer. He moves towards you, pointing to the red dot on the wall across the room.

“Keep your eyes focused on the dot and try not to blink. This won’t hurt, but it may feel uncomfortable.” You nod once again, resting your hands on your lap as Dr. Matsukawa squats in front of you so he’s eye-level with you. He gently places his hand in your knee, causing you to flinch.

Seriously, get your shit together.

“Are you alright? He basically snickered, you’re pretty sure he can feel the warmth radiating at your core.

You nod your head, eyes locking into the dot, cheeks heating up and turning into a bright pink shade. Dr. Matsukawa positions the equipment right in front of your eye before pressing a button that activated the device to blow a puff of air into your eye, causing you to blink.

“We’ll try again.” He maintains eye contact, refocusing the device on the center of your eye as his hand that was on your thigh slight reaches higher, going under your pencil skirt causing you to flinch again.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe, letting out an extremely nervous sigh.

“I’m going to hold your head so you don’t pull away. Is that alright with you?” He explains, giving you so soft smile.

You nod your head rather keenly. Your heart flutters at the contact, the grip on the back of your neck not too tight but strong enough to prevent your head from moving.

He starts the device again, watching you fight the urge to blink. He smiles when you don’t blink, removing his hand from the back of your neck.

“Good girl. You just need someone to keep you in place, yeah?” his other hand rubs your thigh and you couldn’t help the whimper slips out your mouth at the nickname.

Dear God help you. It’s like this man knows that you find him attractive.

“Yeah..” you answer, he stands up with the equipment, writing some notes down on his note book before closing it.

“We have one more test and that’ll be all for today.” He leaves the room for a short period of time and comes back with the other lady from before, she’s carrying a box and places it right next to you.

Dr. Matsukawa follows behind the lady, taking a seat across from you. Why the hell did they look like they were about to dissect your body?

“Do you know what’s inside that box?” he beamed, you turned your head to look at the box the lady had placed next to you, tilting your head and slightly squinting your eyes so you could get a better look at the text.

‘Magic Wand — Vibrator Sex Toy.’

What. The. Fuck.

Dr. Matsukawa grins when he watches the harsh breath you take, the lady next to him staring to the side with a bored look.

“W...What’s that for?” You eyes remain staring at the box.

He grins, “You do know what this is used for, right Ms. L/N?” You stare back up at him, swallowing hard.

“Is... Is this why you put these restraints on me?” Your eyes are filled with pure terror, your breathing becoming uneven when Dr. Matsukawa chuckles darkly. What was going on in your head when you willingly let him tie your hands up?

“No need to fret,” He attempts to touch you and you only flinch in response. “What, you can’t handle getting touched by a vibrator?”

You cringe at his word choice, shaking your head when he takes a closer step at you.

“Also,” He’s hot in your face, your breath hitches when you remember that you two aren’t the only ones in the room. You look over to the lady with a pleading look, but she only looks away. “I’ve noticed the way you’ve been looking at my most naughtiest places, Ms. L/N.”

“No... No! It’s not like that I swear!—“

He swiftly faces away from you and you bite your bottom lip. “But of course, if you’re not comfortable with this, I won’t force you. I’m not into stuff like that anyways.”

It’s only then you finally remember to breathe, you shift uncomfortably when he places a hand in your thigh.

“But you’re a good girl, right? You know how to follow directions.” It takes a while to register his words, you’re too busy in your own world, wondering how the hell you got yourself in this position. You don’t even notice his hand was cupping your cheek.

“You see,” he starts, “I don’t want to hurt you.. I just want to study you. That’s all.” He assured with that charming smile that could get you to obey his every order.

So you nod.

“Perfect!” he gleams, “Nina, would you mind stepping to the side for me?”

She follows his request, clipboard in her hand. You give her an unsure look and she looks like she’d rather be anywhere else but here. You don’t blame her.

“Nina over here took her test 3 years ago,” He announces, “Took it like a pro, isn’t that right, Nina?”

She glared at Dr. Matsukawa, before nodding, “Yeah.”

“She’s a very hard working doctor and very successful, too. You should see her when the office is open! Handles the patients so well.”

He continues to ramble and proceeds to remove the object from out of the box, placing a battery and flicking the switch on.

“Wait!” you yelp, he switches off the vibrator and gives you a confused look. “What— what does this have to do with the internship? And what were the eye test for?”

“I’m going to review your vision before and after you achieve an orgasm.” he deadpans.

Your head cocks to the side, in fact, you feel light headed and you wonder how he said something like that so casually.

“You see, I’ve noticed that you’ve been holding your breath quite a lot every since you’ve gotten here, and I can’t help but wonder if you’ll do the same while your vagina is being stimulated.” you blankly stare, waiting for him to continue. “If this is true, and you do hold your breath while you orgasm, you could temporarily lose eye sight, or receive blurred vision due to the pressure that would be building up in your eyes.”

Help. Someone help. This man has lost his fucking mind. And the lady, Nina, why the hell is she not saying anything? Did she seriously go through this too?

Your jaw gapes as well as your eyes, staring at Dr. Matsukawa with a frightened look. Maybe you shouldn’t have applied for this internship. And then the dam finally breaks.

Honestly, you’re surprised you didn’t start crying when he restrained you. You’re absolutely too frightened to even fight back at this point, and even though he said you didn’t have to, you’re too afraid to speak at the moment. If you knew you’d meet crazy doctors like this, you would’ve quit med school.

“This causes your blood vessels in your eye to burst and trigger a small hemorrhage and temporary vision loss.” You let out a sob, “But don’t worry, it’s temporary.”

Like that was supposed to help.

He gently pats your head before placing a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s okay if you don’t want to do it, baby.”

You face the floor as he rubs his thumb softly over your cheek. You find comfort as he cups your cheek, it’s almost as if it’s only the two of you there.

“I’m sorry if I frightened you, dear. I’m just so very excited because I’ve never met someone so... Inspiring,” You lift your head up to face him, and he lets out a soft chuckle. “With such leadership skills you have, I’m truly greatful you accepted this internship. I honestly find a strong interest in you, too.” His hand travels down your sides, pushing you closer to him.

“Really?” it’s barely above a whisper, breath hitching when his lips softly brush against yours. He nods against your lips, just about to bring them in before he hears a soft ‘tch’ coming from Nina.

“Ah, no need to be jealous, Nina. You’re still in my top 3.” He pulls away from you to grin at Nina, who doesn’t respond. She’s awfully quiet. You don’t know why, but those words sent a pang to your heart. Top 3? Does he have affairs with all his co-workers? Just how many girls has he done this to?

He turns back to gave you once again, delicately trailing his fingers on your sides. “You think you can be a good girl for me?”

You bite your lip, looking up at him and it’s the way he’s staring at you with such adoration — like he’s the only person you can count on.. You just want to make him proud. So you nod.

“Yes.”

You can see the way his eyes light up, and you can’t help he smile to yourself. It finally feels like you’re being useful for once.

“If you ever need me to stop, call out ‘strawberries’”

“Okay.”

Dr. Matsukawa grabs the small vibrator once again, turning it on to the lowest setting, testing the power of it in his finger before lifting your skirt up and placing it against your panties.

“Hah!” you gasp out, your hands pull hard against the restraint, causing Dr. Matsukawa to grin.

“Subject 5 has been restricted for a approximately 10 minutes now. An increased blood flow towards her genital has been detected after realizing what was about to happen to her.” Nina speaks into the recorder.

Subject 5, really?

He moves the wand from your clit, down to your folds, as he watched you writhe underneath the restraints.

“Poor baby,” he pretends to pout, “I don’t think you’ll be able to fully enjoy yourself being l restrained like this. You need to comforting, isn’t that right?”

“Mmm! Mhm.”

He chuckled to himself, before helping you remove all of your clothing, discarding your panties as well as your bra. Your nipples began to harden as the cool air got in contact with them. As he was pulling down your panties, he kneeled down and inspected the slick covering your pussy.

“Subject 5 has increased vaginal discharge, signifying that her body is preparing itself for sexual intercourse.” Dr. Matsukawa calls out before licking a long stripe on your pussy. Your hips buck, causing Dr. Matsukawa to chuckle as he rubbed the side of your thigh.

You weren’t one to get embarrassed easily, but it’s not everyday a hot doctor almost 2x your age sees you naked.

Your head bolts up when you realize Dr. Matsukawa was doing the same, removing his lab coat as well as his right-fitted navy blue shirt, to reveal nibs insanely fit body.

“You’re drooling, Ms. L/N.”

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nek0mabokk · 2 months

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐘, 𝐒𝐄𝐓 . . . 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 !

𐀔 content: rom-com, some of this are smut so be 18+, a collection of scenarios with different characters. All characters are over eighteen.

𐀔 pairing: haikyuu characters x f!reader

𐀔 summary: you're the Nekoma's manager, in every scenario it's gonna be a different person or maybe a continue of a previous one.

smut ( ౨ৎ ) fluff ( 𐙚 )

𐙚 I. sweet like strawberries - bokuto koutaro x f!reader

𐙚 II. hot as the sun, cold as mercury - kuroo tetsurou x f!reader

III.

IV.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

IX.

#haikyuu series #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq x you #hq x y/n #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #nekkoworks #bokuto koutaro x reader #bokuto koutarou #nekoma #nekoma manager #nekoma x reader #bokuto koutaro x you #bokuto x you #bokuto x reader

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fornshinoyaz · 9 months

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how to: lose feelings for an idiot

kei tsukishima x fem!reader

how to lose feelings for a CERTIFIED, government approved idiot. it should be easy right? wrong. you are absolutely, positively, done for. you have no idea why you’re writing the guide book when you can’t even get past the first step! first step, the only important step really: don’t have your best friend be kei tsukishima. then maybe, just maybe, you’d have a chance.

where tsukishima is horribly oblivious to his best friend’s very obvious crush on him.

status - ongoing :) !!

tags - best friends to lovers, college au, tsukishima lacks awareness, volleyball player tsukki, fluff at times, it’s very silly, takes no bullshit!reader, but also emotionally supportive!reader, pining, slice of life, slow-ish burn ? maybe ? i think it would be

tags (pt.2) - best friend!kageyama, childhood friend!yamaguchi, for the sake of au you all go to karasuno university (lmao) & the lineup is the exact same as in the series, the volleyball aspect doesn’t rlly matter much here

content warning - swearing, suggestive jokes, all in good fun

CHAPTERS !!

01. how to: forget about a witch

02. how to: not get hit by a volleyball

03. how-to: breathe when’s he’s around

04. how-to: overthrow the government

05. maybe guides are overrated

taglist - open, send an ask to be placed on it :)

#haikyuu #haikyuu fics #tsukishima x reader #kei tsukishima #tsukki #tsukishima x you #hq headcanons #hq imagines #haikyuu x reader #yamaguchi tadashi #hq #hq fluff #tsukki x reader #tsukki x you #haikyuu series #haikyuu crack #tobio kageyama #kuroo tetsuro #kozume kenma

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selarina · 9 months

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Ghosts in Love

-> Suna Rintaro x Reader

Chapter 1: In the Meat and Dairy Isle

Summary: Amidst shared streets and familiar alleys, chance encounters with your ex at grocery stores or parks evolve into shopping together and sharing park benches.

Loosely inspired by the poem "Ghosts in Love" by Carl Sandburg

Chapter Warning: exes, domestic angst lmao

Words: 1k words

Taglist: Open

Read on AO3 | Series Masterlist

You and Suna Rintaro have purchased tickets for a concert that is almost a year away.

Neither of you have canceled the booking for those tickets. Neither of you have tried to sell it off. It just lies there in the pile of your dusty emails. No attempt is made to delete it. You just let it make a home there, catching dust until you decide to reopen and read it again. And again.

It’s been 7 months since the two of you have broken up and you're wondering if you really need to get rid of them. You only mean, things have significantly mellowed down to a point where you go grocery shopping together, in a manner of speaking.

You still live in the same neighbourhood as him, so days of running into him at the grocery store, the park, or the laundromat have turned into days of shopping together, sharing a park bench, or using the same washing machine if there’s room. Cheaper that way, the two of you reason out.

So you've decided to bring it up at your next weekly run-in.

Except, you don’t see him all week. Or the week after that.

It’s odd but you don’t ruminate, you don’t have the time to. It’s the end of the month and you have deadlines that keep swamping up all over your calendar. And you also have a company ball to prepare for.

"Hey," he says, bopping your cold nose. You think that must have been instinct, because he brings his hand back down almost immediately at the touch. Like it stung to you, or that he's simply repulsed.

But you see him again, on a gloomy day. It’s raining on and off and everything is sticky. You’re sweating but you’re also cold as you stand opposite him in the meat and dairy aisle of the grocery store. His hair has grown a little, and it cascades across his face like a flood of dark water.

Your gaze is now drawn to the yogurt section as you look for the brand you usually use. A soft pink package. He lingers behind you through this, and you’re conscious of his movements. You wonder if he can see right through you, but it's a thought that only lasts for a split moment. He never really did understand you that well, you think.

"Haven't seen you in a while," you remark glibly as you toss a can of milk into your basket.

But it's a lot more intense in your head, and you find that your defences are back up. Why? You aren't sure, but you strongly believe that you will find out today.

“Yeah,” he says. You wait for a moment until you realize he isn’t going to explain himself. He doesn't have to after all.

“How have you been?” you try to change the topic.

“Fine, a bit restless. We haven’t had practices for a while,” he says. You proceed to basket the yogurt, along with some cheese.

You’re both sitting in a park now, just about to part ways before he says, “I went on a date.”

You hum in response.

—

The evening passes by as the two of you slip into the inevitable flow of a conversation.

You’re finally grateful you braced yourself for the inevitable.

You can’t say it doesn’t hurt, but it only hurts like a sting, rather than a typhoon. Right now, you’re too muddled with questions. Questions you don’t have the right to ask.

You don’t say anything.

A beat later, you ask, “Why are you telling me this?”

“I–I really don’t know actually,” he chuckles, and for the very first time, you hate it.

You hate the way his cheeks hollow into soft undefined dimples, you hate the crinkle at the edge of his eyes, and most of all you think you hate him in this moment.

“What?” It comes out before you can stop it, and nurture it into something more mellow — but right now, your anger seeps through your mouth and spits onto his face.

“Okay. Um, I really did need to leave so,” you say, and with a swoop you push yourself up.

This time you move quicker, walking away to leave but he stops you. His hand comes up to clutch your wrist. It's not tight enough for you to not walk away but you stop.

“I’m sorry,” he says and he seems genuine, which makes you hate him even more.

“It’s okay, Rin.” You say, because you could nurture your anger into something different. You’re definitely not okay, but you can pretend you think. For a bit, until you no longer have to pretend.

“Please, ca—just sit with me.” He says, and the wind blows, sending a chill down your back but you sit down anyway because you’ve never truly been good at telling him no. Not when it mattered, at least.

“Thank you,” he mutters.

You don’t speak for the rest of the time. The two of you just sit there, and your anger dies and it dies, and you almost forget about all of it, because this is nice right?

This is comfortable and familiar, and it makes you wish you could turn time back, at least in your head. But it’s abruptly met with a stop, when he speaks again, “It was bad.”

“I figured,” you say.

You hum, urging him to continue. Reluctant but ready.

“The date, I mean," he elaborates.

“I don’t think I’m over you yet,” he says. “It’s killing me just a bit, I think.” He tries to soften the sentence with a chuckle.

“I think that would kill me more,” he says soft as a whisper, you could barely hear it. It almost made you assume it was just the wind playing tricks on you.

“Want me to change neighbourhoods so you can move on then?”

Your words come out sounding a bit condescending but you have a soft edge to your voice, a lilt of humour if you will, like it’s amusing that you would ever do something like this for him. Would you?

“Anyway, it should be you if one of us is moving,” you say.

“Well, I was here first. It’s only fair,” you say, firmly.

“Me? No way,” he says, his pitch rising. “It’s closer to practice, and the home office."

He doesn’t say anything for a bit. You were here first, you were more in tune with this area than he was. Most of his favourite things about this neighbourhood are borrowed, he realizes. They're all yours.

At that, he feels a bit empty, “That’s actually fair.” He adds, “I’d rather neither of us have to move. I’d rather us be friends.”

“Me too, Rin.” You smile at him.

Only you can’t help but think about how it sounds like a distant fantasy, reminiscent of dream-addled childhood dreams where you thought of driving yourself across the country. You reassure yourself because you can drive now at least.

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ktsumu · 5 months

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cross check [1]

pairing: hockey player!iwaizumi hajime x f!reader word count: 771

chapter synopsis: icarus on ice.

masterlist | one | two (coming soon!)

Iwaizumi feels heavy on solid ground; like he’s held down in place.

He feels like the atmosphere and gravity and whatever else only exist to act on him, and everything else gets affected by that in turn.

On ice, he is weightless.

It takes him seconds to get up the ice, it takes him seconds to score. It takes him seconds to get over the boards, and it takes him seconds to get some water into him and get put right back out in the play.

But that’s what he loves about the game — he’s weightless, and he’s timeless. And nobody does timeless better than him.

His skates turn ice into snow as he races with the pair beside him, blades scraping the top off the surface, carving streaks out into the rink. He weaves through defense like it’s what he does in his sleep, bumping shoulders and sides but managing to keep the puck in the arch of his stick; loosely, but it’s there.

( He’s never been a clean player, anyway. )

It’s the adrenaline that keeps him going from there.

It comes from the screaming crowd, the skates scratching to life behind him, the crash of sticks hitting the boards, the way the goalie begins to drop in anticipation that he’s going to shoot on him; there is no stopping, not here and not now.

To his right, all he hears is screaming. Cheering, chirping; it depends on what colour the person in the stands is wearing. His team makes sure he knows to keep going, at least, as if he wasn’t gonna do that himself anyway, and his coach looked expectant when he passed him on the way to the net.

To his left, he can see Oikawa, who managed to catch up with him and is now racing towards the net on the far side — in between them is a player that wants to stop the pass he fully intends to make. Behind him, skates close in.

The most overstimulated you’ll ever be is in a jersey in motion; he doesn’t wanna be anywhere else.

You blink and you miss it; the puck is passed to Tooru and directly past the defender, just by his skates, the thundering of the arena only growing louder with every inch they get closer to the net. Knowing the boards are coming up on him, Iwaizumi stops abruptly, bringing him to a messy halt in the corner. It’s probably killing his ankles, but at least it stops him. Not much can.

Iwaizumi comes to standstill. The player behind him doesn’t.

He doesn’t have the time to see if Oikawa got the goal, because when he turns to look again, all he can see is a body flying towards him and a barred stick coming with it. And by the time he processes that he wants to get out of the way, he’s already in the air.

The last thing he sees before he hits something — he doesn't even know what — are the blinding lights that hang from the tall ceiling of the arena and the jumbotron housing the score, telling everyone that they’re winning.

But, then again, hockey is timeless. Just as fast as sees the score, he’s slamming against the ice and wall at full force, his helmet flying off and a pop in his knee so violent it makes him lightheaded.

The arena suddenly gets louder, and his vision doubles as he struggles to find the air he had a few seconds ago. Gloves are dropping, people are throwing punches like it's a different sport entirely, and all he can think about is how bad his brain is shaking instead of his skull and how bright the world is. He can’t do anything but wheeze out groans and struggle to get a glove off, clutching his jersey in the middle of his chest as his ears ring. He tries to move, but just yells instead. It's a lot easier.

He tries to bend his leg, but that doesn’t help the noise any.

One of the medics they keep on standby rushes onto the ice and right over to him, dropping to his level with a bright orange kit as they rest a hand on his chest.

“Stay still,” they say. It sounds like they’re both underwater — he’s guesses that he’s the one drowning. “Don’t move your head, just stay awake 'til the big guys get here. Hey, he's going — Hajime!”

He lets out a strangled hum to avoid nodding, eyes fluttering as the woman shines a bright light at them, and his vision fleshes white before he lets himself rest.

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu series

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dollysilena · 8 months

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TRAINING WHEELS

CHAPTER FOUR | THE START OF SOMETHING NEW

ao3 I series masterlist | previous chapter I next chapter

five years ago, you stupidly had a fling with inarizaki athlete, miya atsumu- now, present day- he had a son he knew nothing about. you made sure it was going to stay that way, but as fate would have it, he unexpectedly stumbled back into your lives, now as volleyball's biggest star.

wc & notes: 9.5k words (i am FRIED) — they said it couldn’t be done, but consider the “doesn’t update anymore” allegations BEAT. longer writers note on ao3 LMAO. pls enjoy and ignore any errors i am dying guys

“I can’t believe you never told me!”

You tossed a bag of apples into the grocery cart.

“You knew I had a crush on Miya Atsumu ever since I saw him shirtless on last year’s Vogue Japan cover! How could you not say anything?!”

You pretended to inspect a carrot thoroughly. Naomi wasn’t convinced. She knew you didn’t even like carrots.

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

You started pushing the cart faster.

“Well, if you’re not going to answer, can you at least tell me if he was good in bed?”

The grocery cart came to a screeching halt as your eyes widened like saucers. The piercing sound made both of you wince as the supermarket stocker dropped a handful of vegetables from shock. You hurriedly scurried away to another section of the grocery store while Naomi trailed after you.

“I take that as a yes?” Naomi chuckled nervously. You stared daggers at her before your friend took the silent hint to shut up.

“Naomi,” you sighed, continuing through the snacks aisle. “It’s not exactly easy telling people the father of your son is Japan’s biggest athlete. Don’t take it the wrong way, I never meant for anyone to find out,”

“But you can see how that played out,” you continued trying to avoid making a grimace, but your face couldn’t help it.

Naomi nodded quietly. “I’m sorry for prying.”

“It’s alright,” you rolled your eyes. “And yes, he was good. Though, it was in a bathroom.”

Naomi let out a shriek that sounded vaguely like your name as you continued through the grocery store.

It’s odd, you thought, your world was flipped upside down and nobody would be none the wiser. The past twenty four hours was whiplashing. Not only had your past fling turned volleyball superstar, not to mention the father of your child, reappeared in your life, he was here to stay. You had always assumed if your dirty little secret were to get out, the floodgates would wash your carefully constructed life away and that nothing would be the same. And in a way, it was, but there you were, grocery shopping with Naomi on a quiet Tuesday morning like nothing had happened.

You could still hardly believe it, honestly. The moment you realized you were going to be a mother five years ago, you imagined that the rest of your life after you looked at that positive pregnancy test would be without him. You assumed that he would prioritize his budding career, his passion for volleyball, above you. You were just some girl he had a fling with after all. Why would he throw away the promising life he had for you? But, for reasons you couldn’t fathom, he ended up choosing to stay. And willingly. He could’ve walked out the moment he stepped foot into Onigiri Miya, but he didn’t.

It made you wonder, would he have made the same decision five years ago? To stay? Would things have been different now if you had him by your side then?

Did you make a mistake not telling him all those years ago?

Naomi’s voice broke your thoughts. “How’s your baby daddy doing with the whole ‘new parent’ thing anyway?”

You instinctively cringed. “Please never call him that again.”

“Well, what else would I call him?”

You rolled your eyes as you tossed a bag of Haru’s favorite chips into the cart.

“Well, all things considered, he’s doing okay. I think.”

You weren’t really sure, typically, one doesn’t have a secret family pop up from nowhere.

“And how are you doing with your baby daddy?” Naomi continued.

You ignored the nickname, much to your dismay, you guessed it wasn’t going anywhere soon. You thought back to the question for several moments, but there just wasn’t anything that could begin to describe what on earth was going on in your mind.

“I don’t know,” you stated simply. “It’s weird knowing he’s going to be around, I guess.”

“Weird?” Naomi repeated, tilting her head. “I thought it was a good thing?”

“It definitely is,” you replied, before sighing. “I just… don’t know how to be around Atsumu.”

You never meant for him to be in your life in the first place, so you weren’t sure where he was going to fit now that he was in it, for better or for worse.

“Well, I’m sure he’s feeling the same way too,” Naomi reassured. “Maybe you should bring up spending more time with one another. Get to know each other, y’know?”

You paused, maybe that wasn’t a half bad idea. You pushed your cart to the checkout lane.

Despite Atsumu having an early morning the next day, he didn’t sleep the entire night after returning home from your apartment. And who could blame him? He had too much to think about. On the bright side, he had an early start to his morning unlike the day before. He thought that maybe by being earlier for practice he would get out of his coach’s scolding, but Coach Foster was already waiting for him at the gymnasium despite him arriving a whole hour early.

“You better have a good explanation for running out on practice yesterday, especially with the start of the season so close!” Coach Foster scowled with his arms crossed the moment Atsumu sheepishly walked into the gymnasium.

Atsumu sucked in his teeth and hoped he would believe the events of the prior night. Guess he would just have to find out…

Five minutes later, inside one of the secluded offices inside the gymnasium and away from prying ears, Coach Foster’s jaw was hanging open in a mixture of shock, horror, and disbelief. Truthfully, he considered filing for early retirement right then and there.

“You’re telling me you have a son?” Coach Foster asked in a hushed whisper. Atsumu nodded and the man gave a heavy sigh as he rubbed his temples.

“Honestly, Atsumu…”

Coach Foster sighed deeply as he rubbed his temples. In his time as a professional sports coach, he had seen his fair share of scandals amongst his athletes, but this one might’ve taken the cake. Initially, he hadn’t believed him, chalking it up to one of his usual pranks, but Atsumu’s conviction was deathly serious. Not to mention the picture he handed him was jarring. The boy looked just like him.

“I hope that you know what a massive responsibility this is,” Coach Foster said, beginning his lecture. He was honestly still in disbelief over the news his setter broke to him. And honestly, he was debating if what he was hearing was even true, picture or not.

“I didn’t have my first child until I was in my thirties, you’re still only twenty-three, and not to mention still a little immature–”

“I’m gonna be a part of his life no matter what,” Atsumu stated firmly, cutting him off.

Usually he knew better than speaking against his senior, but he quickly came to his own defense.

“I wasn’t there in the beginnin’, so I’m gonna make up for lost time and be there for Haru.”

The Coach was taken aback by Atsumu’s tone, before shaking his head with a chuckle. He had known the setter for some quite some time, being there to see the progression of his career from when he started the league until now. He had never quite taken the young setter seriously when it came to real life experiences, he was still so young after all, but he would almost say he was proud of Atsumu for stepping up. But time would tell if he could fill in the shoes of a father.

“I believe in you,” Foster simply said. “But this does raise a few issues though.”

“Like what?”

“Well, we are going to have to talk to the PR team about this. You’re one of Japan’s most famous athletes right now, and you have paparazzi hounding your every move. It would probably be in the best interest of your son and the mother to stay under the radar until you find a way to announce this publicly without sparking controversy, which is already difficult enough considering the circumstances.”

Atsumu thought silently. In the midst of all the chaos, he hadn’t thought yet how his career could negatively affect you and Haru. He wasn’t sure how he would handle it yet, but he could feel a protective surge in his chest.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure this is handled discreetly,” Coach Foster said.

Atsumu thanked the man, before being instructed to return to practice. As the door closed, Coach Foster sighed deeply, he sure had his work cut out for him.

As Atsumu entered the gym, he was almost immediately bombarded by his teammates. Bokuto and Hinata practically tackled him down the moment he stepped into practice.

“”Tsumu! Where’d you go last night?” Bokuto exclaimed, appearing at his side. “I wanted to practice my spikes with you!”

“Coach was mad,” Hinata shivered beside him. “He said he’d make you run triple the amount of laps today–” Atsumu gulped at the thought of the coach’s training being even more intensive than it already was.

“”Samu had a problem at the restaurant and needed some help,” Atsumu replied as nonchalantly he could. It wasn’t entirely false but it sure as hell wasn’t a good lie either. But before Hinata and Bokuto could press more, Coach Foster bounded out of his office.

“Enough small talk! We need to start our warm ups.” Coach Foster announced. Atsumu nearly sighed in relief, until he realized he was probably going to be worked to the bone.

The rest of practice went on as usual, except for Coach Foster making the session more grueling for Atsumu in particular. He bit back his complaints, already knowing this wouldn’t be the last of his coach’s discipline for him. He probably deserved it, anyway.

Later, after a practice what Atsumu could only call torturous, Coach Foster blew his whistle and beckoned the team over.

“It seems I have an unexpected meeting with the PR representatives,” Coach Foster announced, “so we’re going to call off practice early today!”

Atsumu caught a glare from Coach Foster that could unmistakably only be meant for him. He hoped nobody else caught it or the fact his face was mortified, but thankfully everybody else on the team seemed too busy celebrating the abrupt end to practice.

“Take the rest of the day to recover, that’s all!”

Atsumu practically felt the weight on his shoulders dissipate as he headed for the lockerroom. His bones were aching at that point, and the only thing he wanted to do was collapse onto one of the benches. He went into his locker and dug his phone out of his practice bag. Going through his notifications, he was surprised to see his first message was from you.

You (12:35pm):

hey, how do you feel about spending more time together?

You (12:35pm):

to get used to being around each other i mean

You (12:36pm):

sorry, i don’t really know how to go about this

You (12:37pm):

my bad, you’re busy at practice probably

You (12:37pm):

sorry, just ignore this

He quickly wrote back.

Atsumu (12:45pm):

nono, don’t worry, i just got out of practice actually

Atsumu (12:45pm):

i don’t how to go about this either, but i would love to spend more time with ya and haru

Exhaustion long forgotten, Atsumu grabbed his bag and headed out of the gym with a noticeable smile on his face.

You groaned as you slumped down on the staircase of your apartment complex. Of course the elevator decided to go out of service when you had an entire weeks worth of groceries to bring up. You barely had made it up to floor three before you decided to give up. Now, you were collapsed onto the step of the stairs surrounded by what seemed to be an endless sea of bags. How were you going to make it up another seven flights?

You heard footsteps behind you, presumably from someone who was also inconvenienced by the lack of elevators.

“Sorry,” you groaned as you got to your feet as you collected up one of the bags. “I was just taking a break from taking up these damn groceries–”

“Do ya need help?” You perked up, you certainly weren’t in a position to say no.

You looked up to thank the stranger for their offer and are met with Atsumu instead. Miya Atsumu, who definitely doesn’t live in your building.

What on earth?-- Oh no. Oh no. He thought your message about spending more time together meant today. You were so caught up in bringing up your groceries that you hadn’t bothered to check your phone to see his response.

You were suddenly all too aware of the sweatpants you haphazardly threw on and the shirt you’re pretty sure Haru stained with paint from his fingerpainting phase last month. You won’t even begin on whatever hairstyle you haphazardly did this moring. You were under the impression that all you were doing was going to the supermarket with Naomi so you didn’t bother getting properly dressed. Now you were standing infront of him a sweaty mess as he looks as if he just walked off a magazine shoot with his fresh-out-of-a-workout glow, designer tracksuit, and practice bag swung effortlessly over his shoulder.

“Hey!” You quickly said, not prepared to greet him as you clutched tightly onto the bag full of produce in your hands. “I didn’t– uh– expect you to come today.”

Atsumu’s eyebrows creased in confusion before the realization flashed on his face.

“Oh! Ya meant for that message to be in general.” Atsumu exclaimed, and he looked noticeably embarrassed. “Sorry, I just thought–”

“Nono!” You stammered, trying to collect yourself. “It’s okay, I’m off today anyways. Besides, I need help with these bags.” Atsumu cracked a smile at you before reaching down to grab a handful of bags, which was alot more than you could carry by yourself.

“Here, let me take these too,” he offered, extending his hands out to take the bag in your hands.

“You don’t have to take them all, y’know,” you replied. The poor man already had about four in his arms already. Though, he was carrying the heavy bags without even straining himself, unlike yourself. A rigorous workout schedule would do that, you suppose

“Consider this the first of many repayments,” he chuckled as he took a bag out of your hands. You felt yourself tense when you felt his fingers skim over your hand, and you had to clutch onto the bag tighter for it not to tumble out of your hands.

You forgot about how stupidly charming he was. It’s what got you into this mess in the first place.

Once you both situated yourselves, you lugged up the stairs and finally reached your apartment. You were noticeably more out of breath than Atsumu was, who didn’t seem to break a sweat despite carrying up twice the amount of bags you did.

“I guess all that professional athlete training came in handy,” you snorted as you went to unlock the door.

“Coach made sure to put me through it this mornin’ for the stunt I pulled yesterday,” he chuckled. “Guess it was good trainin’ for carryin’ up all these bags.”

“I guess I’ll have to keep you around for my next grocery trip,” you snickered as you placed your bags in the kitchen as Atsumu followed.

“I’ll be here for as many trips as ya need.”

The comment was meant to be innocent, but it nearly made you stop in your tracks. You knew he was here to stay from your conversation the night before, but hearing him affirm it was unexpected. It still hadn’t sunk in yet. A day ago, Miya Atsumu was a distant memory, and today he was standing in your kitchen helping you bring in groceries. Would you ever get used to this?

“Where’s Haru?” Atsumu asked, looking around to see no trace of the small boy.

“School,” you answered as you began to unpack the bags onto your counter. “I have a few hours until I have to go pick him up if you wanna join me.”

“Of course,” he replied with a quick eagerness, “what do ya wanna do until then?”

Shit, you didn’t think about the fact you would be with Atsumu alone for the time being.

Alone. With your ex-fling.

Who you refused to admit is starting to make your heart beat a little faster.

Suppressing any of the silly leftover schoolgirl feelings you still harbored, you reminded yourself that Atsumu was kind out of courtesy of the situation between you two. You two are still strangers, fling aside.

Before you could open your mouth to answer, your stomach decided to interrupt the conversation with a undeniable grumble. You immediately grabbed your stomach in attempt to silence it, but there was no way Atsumu didn’t hear it. Your face flushed, and you regretted sleeping in and deciding to skip breakfast that morning.

“I think that means ya want lunch.” You wanted the earth to swallow you whole.

“I’m mortified, but that sounds great right about now,” you nervously laughed. “I can cook us something–”

“I can’t let ya cook, it’s yer day off!” Atsumu interjected as if he were offended you would suggest such an idea. “C’mon, let me take ya out.”

“Atsumu, I look like a mess right now,” you chuckled, looking down at your clothes. “I don’t think–”

“Ya look great so that’s not an excuse,” he interjected and you’re taken aback from the sudden compliment. Surely you couldn’t look that great with your old college t-shirt decorated in paint splatters. But Atsumu looked adamant in his statement with the way he was staring you down.

“C’mon, it doesn’t have to be anythin’ fancy,” he insisted. “We could just go to Osamu’s, on me.”

Your stomach was practically begging for attention at that point and you groaned, knowing it was too good an offer to pass down. Not to mention, you couldn’t keep holding eye contact with him without melting onto the floor. It’s almost intimidating, the way he won’t back down.

“Alright, alright, but let me change at least.”

“Good,” Atsumu grinned as you scurried off into your bedroom.

You quickly got changed into a pair of jeans and the first decent shirt you spotted in your closet. It’s simple, but a pretty shade of green with a flattering neckline. You knew the lunch wasn’t going to be anything fancy, but it didn’t stop you from putting on the jewelry you had sitting on your dresser and swiping on some lip gloss. You gave yourself a quick look in the mirror, not bad in ten minutes.

You headed back to the kitchen where you left Atsumu, who was sitting at the counter as he absentmindedly scrolled on his phone.

“C’mon Miya, you owe me lunch,” you chimed as you grabbed your keys off the table.

Atsumu looked up and you swore he opened up his mouth to say something, but immediately clammed up.

“What is it?” You asked, tilting your head. He suddenly seemed nervous, which was a stark difference from his calm demeanor not even a second ago.

“Ya– uh– just look nice, let’s go.”

Before you could react, Atsumu was already heading for the door.

Stupidly and annoyingly charming.

You hoped this meal wouldn’t be the death of you.

The elevators seemed to be back in service as Atsumu had already called it up by the time you locked the door and made your way to him down the hall.

It’s just lunch, you had to tell yourself as you both got inside quietly. Don’t be so nervous. But it didn’t stop your hands from fidgeting as you watched the elevator floor level slowly descend down before dinging at the first floor.

You both exited and you barely made it a few steps out the front door before you heard the beep of a car. You turned beside you to spot arguably the flashiest sports car you’ve ever seen parked next to your quaint apartment building. It seemed as though it came right from the dealership with it’s perfect white paint job and bright gleam. It couldn’t belong to anyone but the professional athlete himself beside you. That V-League paycheck must be cushy.

“Wow.” It was pretty much all you could say.

“I got it when I first went pro,” he chuckled as he brought you to the passenger side. “Kind of an impulsive decision.”

You snorted as he opened the door for you and let you inside. “I thought this lunch was supposed to be casual.”

“As casual as it can be, considerin’ the circumstances,” he said as he got into the drivers seat and you rolled your eyes. Right, nothing about this was casual.

“I probably gotta get somethin’ different soon though,” he noted as he turned on the engine and the car revved to life.

“Why’s that?”

“Not enough room for a carseat in the back,” he responded simply as he pulled the car out. “Or would it be a booster seat? I’m not really sure.”

You were taken aback. “You already thought of that?--”

“‘Course I did,” Atsumu replied like it was the simplest thing in the world. “Thought ‘bout it on my way over here.”

You knew Atsumu was serious when he said he wanted to make a commitment, but you just didn’t think he’d be ready for change so quickly. If he was already thinking about getting a whole new car just for the sake of a booster seat, what else was he ready to change? Co-parenting wasn’t something you ever considered, much less planned for. You shook it off, knowing you were getting ahead of yourself. Right now was just lunch, and that was all. You busied yourself with looking out the window as you watched the streets go by.

“How long have ya been in Osaka?” He asked, eyes focused on the road.

“A little before Haru was born,” you answered. “Before that I lived with my grandmother in Kagawa before she passed, and after that I moved to Osaka because I knew their university had a babysitting service for parents getting their degrees.”

“So about five years?”

“Just about, why do you ask?”

“I’ve been in Osaka since I went pro after high school…” Atsumu mumbled and there’s a noticeable regret in his tone. “I just can’t believe I never knew ya were here.”

“Atsumu, don’t beat yourself up,” you sighed, looking away from the window and back at him. “It’s an enormous city and I was purposefully avoiding you the entire time.”

Though you tried to reassure him, his demeanor was still crestfallen as he drove.

“Y’know, I even avoided sports stores because I was scared I’d run into you there. Haru’s gym teacher hates me because I never get his uniforms on time.”

The last line made Atsumu snort and you’re glad he didn’t seem as dejected. “And what if I was there?”

“I actually had to go last month to pick up sneakers for Haru,” you rolled your eyes. “They had a lifesize cardboard display of you and I thought it was actually you. I ran away so quickly the cashier thought I was a thief.”

You manage to get a smile to crack through Atsumu after all. You realize you eventually made it to Osamu’s restaurant as Atsumu parked beside it. Before you could even manage to open your door, Atsumu had already made it to the passenger door outside and opened it for you.

“You know you don’t need to do that,” you chuckled as you climbed out.

“Nah, but I wanna.”

Your heart needed to stop doing whatever the hell it was doing in your chest.

It seemed like you weren’t going to win as Atsumu made sure to open the restaurant door for you as well. You walked inside as the bell chimed on the door as you spotted Osamu behind the front counter.

“Could ya please stop coming in here durin’ my breaktime?!” Osamu barked as he tossed the towel strewn over his shoulder directly at his brother’s head. “I need to start lockin’ the damn doors because of ya!”

“How else can I eat in privacy?” Atsumu whined, grabbing the towel off his face. “I haven’t recovered from the time the tabloids posted all those pictures of me eatin’ your onigiri!”

“It’s because ya ate eight in one sittin’!” Osamu exclaimed, before noticing you standing behind Atsumu. He immediately composed himself from his previous hostility. “Oh, I didn’t realize ya were here.”

“Hi,” you waved meekly. “Sorry for coming in, I had no idea you were on break.”

Osamu scratched the back of his head, slightly embarrassed. “No worries, I’m used to this moron bargin’ in here anyways. Take a seat and I’ll fix ya somethin’.”

You both got sat in one of the nearby booths as Osamu got you settled before heading into the back kitchen to get started on cooking. The restaurant was empty, and you realized Atsumu’s habit of coming in during Osamu’s breaktime was probably so he could eat in privacy.

“Oi, ‘Samu!” Atsumu called into the nearby kitchen. “Make some extra gyoza!”

“Oh, that’s my favorite!” You exclaimed. You were practically starving at this point, so the mention of the food made your mouth water.

“Ya always packed some for lunch back in high school, right?” Atsumu noted. It was true, if you didn’t pack any from home, you would sneak out to the convenience store to buy some instead.

“How on earth do you remember that?” You snorted. His memory was spot-on, especially since high school felt like eons ago.

Atsumu shrugged. “Dunno.”

“Is your favorite food still tuna?”

“How’d ya know that?” Atsumu asked, noticeably surprised, as if he didn’t remember the detail about you moments ago.

“Haru eats it all the time, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree apparently,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “He’s like a mini you.”

Atsumu smiled softly and looked at his hands placed onto the table. He was fiddling with his fingers, roughed up probably from all the time he played volleyball. He seemed nervous.

“He is?” He said, almost shyly. Not like the typically confident guy he was.

“Yup,” you answered, resting your hand on your face. “Earlier when you were bickering with Osamu, it reminds me of when Haru starts to whine.”

“Really?” He asked excitedly, before his face flashed with realization. “Wait, hey!--”

You laughed as Atsumu scoffed but it seemed more like a pout with the way he jutted out his lip and furrowed his eyebrows. It made you think about how uncanny the two looked. You couldn’t help but smile as Atsumu turned back to you, his face still a bit peeved at your earlier jab.

“I still feel like I don’t know enough about ya still,” Atsumu noted.

You paused. Five years of avoidance would do that… But now it was different. You didn’t have to force the distance anymore unlike before.

“That doesn’t matter, does it? We aren’t in a rush to.”

Atsumu smiled at you again and you felt your heart still. “No, we’re not.”

Whenever he looked at you, you became acutely aware just how present Atsumu was. It almost didn’t seem real. He wasn’t just some image you saw from afar, like interviews on TV or in magazines you saw at the convenience store. And somehow, he wasn’t leaving or running away like you thought he would be. Nothing was separating you, he was infront of you and here with you.

And as happy as it made you, it scared you just as much.

“You haven’t told me anything about yourself,” you noted, wanting to change the topic. “I feel like I’m doing all the talking here.”

Atsumu shrugged. “My life’s pretty much an open book, what do ya wanna know?”

Atsumu was right, he was in the limelight even before he went pro. Anything you wanted to know about him was probably written somewhere online by fans or reporters. You remembered that back in high school, he was already getting recognized by national recruiters, not to mention having an army of fangirls. You vaguely remembered them giving you– and any other girl– shit for even breathing in his general direction, you couldn’t imagine what they would have done to you had they known you both were secretly hooking up. You weren’t sure how Atsumu always kept his composure despite majority of his life being constantly under a microscope.

You, for one, wouldn’t know how to handle it, and it was partially the reason you hid from him for so long. You wondered how long you could hide from the watchful eyes on Atsumu. At some point, they would be on you.

“Is it hard?” You blurted out.

Atsumu paused at your sudden statement. “What is?”

Maybe it wasn’t appropriate for you to be asking something personal for what was supposed to be a casual luncheon, but it the question already came out of your mouth.

“Being famous. Doesn’t it get tiring having to be watched all the time?”

You half expected Atsumu to crack some wise joke about how he was meant to be famous, his boisterous confidence was undoubtedly star-material after all, but he paused again. You noticed him looking at the wall behind you, and you turned over your shoulder to spot a picture frame hung up. It was a picture of his high school team, with Atsumu front and center with his usual plastered grin.

“Yeah, I think it does sometimes.”

You wanted to ask more, but you didn’t think you should. You didn’t think it was a line you should cross. At least, not yet. You were reminded of the fact you two were still practically strangers.

You had nearly forgotten you were there to eat had it not been for Osamu coming around the corner with a steaming tray of food. You barely were able to stop your mouth from salivating once Osamu placed the plates onto the table.

“This is for ya,” Osamu stated harshly, shoving what could only be a receipt into Atsumu’s face.

“What the hell are ya talkin’ about?!” Atsumu barked, snatching the paper from his brother’s hand. “What happened to my family discount?”

“She eats free, but after what ya put me through, ya pay double now.”

Atsumu couldn’t think of anything to retort as he shamefully shoved the receipt into his pocket, muttering something about his ‘good for nothin’ brother’. You couldn’t help but giggle.

Osamu turned back to you. “‘Least I can do is make ya food, so stop in anytime.”

You quickly thanked Osamu for his generous offer before he left the two of you alone in the booth.

“I should’ve bombarded into here sooner if I knew it would have gotten me free food,” you chuckled, immediately going to grab one of the various riceballs infront of you. The taste didn’t disappoint either. Osamu must’ve been a magician, because the food could’ve only been this good with the help of magic. No wonder he had rows of culinary awards plastered on his walls.

“Speakin’ of which, how on earth didn’t ya realize ‘Samu was my twin brother?” Atsumu asked, laughing. “His face didn’t ring any bells?”*

You groaned through your bite of rice. “Listen…”

The rest of your lunch carried on with less stress than you had originally imagined. You thought that underlying tension would weigh down the majority of your meeting and the rest to come, but the two of you got on so… easily. As if Atsumu wasn’t the last person you wanted to see, not even a day ago. You guessed it was from Atsumu’s obnoxiously pleasant personality, one that got you into trouble all those years ago, that made you feel so relaxed. It was a wonder how he was so easygoing in the first place, while you were still a jumbled ball of nerves.

“Should we go pick up Haru now?” Atsumu asked, nodding towards the time on the clock. It was nearing the time you were supposed to go pick him up from school.

“Yeah, but…”

You turned to look out the window of the flashy car parked outside and you grimaced. You couldn’t imagine the faces– not to mention the salacious gossip that would ensue– of the other preschool moms if you suddenly pulled up in a car worth more than your monthly rent, with a man in tow nonetheless. You already got enough shit for being a single parent, and you didn’t want to give those haughty women the idea you were somehow some sort of sugar baby too.

You looked back to Atsumu, bright-eyed and grinning a magazine-selling smile, and you realized his celebrity face was probably more conspicuous than his car.

Maybe you should’ve felt bad for making Atsumu wear a face mask and park two streets away, and probably should have felt worse for having him steal the baseball cap right off of Osamu’s head before heading out, but you imagined it would have been worse if Japan’s favorite athlete was suddenly sitting beside you in a lobby full of Osaka’s most talkative housewives. While it seemed nobody had caught onto his identity since majority of his features were covered, you still caught a few of the parents glancing in your direction. Their curiosity was understandable, it was common knowledge you were on your own, so bringing a man with you was surely an eyebrow-raiser.

“That lady with the scary makeup keeps staring at me and it’s making me nervous,” Atsumu whispered in the seat beside you.

You looked in the direction he was referring to and caught one of the moms, Hitomi, staring directly at Atsumu. Her stark plum-red lipstick paired with spidery false lashes was daunting to look at. Not to mention, she had a personality to match. Her stuck-up personality had already grinded your nerves to a tipping point and the school year had barely began. Even Haru had a disdain for her daughter, Yuki, claiming she constantly hogged all the toys to herself during recess.

“Y/N, you have company today!” She chirped happily.

Translation: Who’s this man with you?

It was obvious she wanted to know who Atsumu was. Hitomi apparently didn’t have much shame as her eyes didn’t even bother to meet yours as she raked her eyes up and down Atsumu’s body. While his face wasn’t discernible though his mask, his well-built body had most of the women in the room stealing glances at him. It was obvious, even with the mask, he was definitely handsome.

You realized there were other onlookers in the room silently listening in. Hitomi was putting on a show. However, you were expecting as much.

“Ah, yes, this is my colleague from work,” you responded, hoping your lie wasn’t transparent. “We were out nearby for a meeting and he accompanied me today to come get Haru.”

“How kind of him!” She grinned. “Will we be seeing more of him?”

Translation: Is this a man in your life? A boyfriend, perhaps?

“Just for today,” you lied through an insincere smile. The entire exchange was already proving to be a headache. You were hoping that Hitomi would just give up and believe your fib that today was just an appearance from a kind coworker.

“Actually! I’m tryin’ to come more often.” Atsumu replied cheerfully beside you, breaking his silence.

You cracked your neck to him at lightning speeds and hoped nobody noticed your eyes bulging out of your head. Why on earth was he not playing along?! Forget being civil with Atsumu, you were about to strangle him infront of the entire PTA committee. All the while, he was cheerful as always.

“That’s great to hear!” Hitomi exclaimed. “Since we’ll be seeing you more often, what’s your name?”

Oh, absolutely not. If the rumor mill caught ahold of any information about Atsumu, they would be done for. Atsumu opened his mouth to respond but the door to the classrooms opened.

“Oh, the kids are done class!” You interjected loudly.

Thankfully, Haru and the rest of his class were released from their classroom and into the lobby to be picked up. Haru immediately beelined into your waiting arms and Hitomi was approached by her own daughter, interrupting the conversation.

“We’re actually in a rush now, so we’ll have to be going,” you apologized, and didn’t even wait for Hitomi to respond as you grabbed onto Haru’s hand, and grabbed onto Atsumu’s sleeve to drag them away to the front desk to sign out Haru as quickly as possible. You practically ran out of the building with both of them in tow, ignoring the many confused stares.

You collected yourselves outside on a secluded part of the street, and you almost collapsed in relief. God knows what would have happened if word got out that Miya Atsumu, of all people, was suddenly picking up your toddler.

“Mama, what’s Mister ‘Tsumu doing here?” Haru asked beside you. You were surprised Haru could recognize him with half his face and hair covered.

“How’d ya know it was me?” Atsumu chuckled, leaning down to Haru’s height and pulling down his mask to his chin.

“Only you have that weird colored hair, mister.”

Your hand immediately flew up to your face to hide your mouth as Atsumu’s face fell. A few tufts of blonde hair stuck out from the hat, seemingly giving him away.

“And mama’s only friends are you and Aunt Naomi, so–”

Now, it was Atsumu’s turn to snort as you pinched your son’s cheek softly. He whined in protest.

“Okay, that’s enough out of you,” you scolded him before turning to Atsumu. “And you, were you trying to give yourself away to the entire lobby? Hitomi’s probably gone off and told the entire neighborhood about my new coworker by now.”

You remembered the time one of the preschool moms caught you at a work dinner and assumed you were out on a date. By the next morning, the entire lobby was telling you how happy they were to ‘finally see you with a man.’

“Well, I am goin’ to be here more often now.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “So may as well tell ‘em.”

“And were you planning on telling them who you were?” You questioned raising an eyebrow, remembering how he almost answered Hitomi when she asked for his name. “What would you have done if they found out who you really were?”

Haru held onto your leg beside you as he quietly observed your conversation, probably confused on what you two could be bickering about.

He thought for a moment before his shoulders slumped. “I guess ya have a point… My coach did tell me to keep quiet for now.” So he did end up telling his coaches.

“I get that it’s important to keep my identity and all, but I guess I was just got excited about being able to be there for Haru,” he murmured. You sighed, while it was a stupid move, he did seemingly have good intentions. You probably shouldn’t have been so hard on him.

“Mama, you still haven’t told me why Mister Atsumu is here,” Haru frowned in confusion from beside you. You looked down, realizing you still hadn’t answered him. You looked back at Atsumu, still looking dejected.

“He’s here to hang out with us today,” you answered, patting his head. “And he’ll actually be coming to pick you up more often too.”

“Really?” Haru exclaimed excitedly. Atsumu looked back up, suddenly cheering up with a grin. Atsumu almost reminded you of a puppy with how quickly he could perk up after being discouraged.

“C’mon, we’re even going to go home in Mr. Atsumu’s car,” you said, leaning down beside him. “Atsumu, do you wanna show Haru the way?”

“Yeah!” He replied, almost too excitedly as he offered Haru his hand to take, his glumness now forgotten. You smiled warmly as you watched Haru accept his hand, before Atsumu led him to the car.

“Haru, take off your shoes first!” You scolded the young boy as you entered your apartment. Haru, still clad in his school uniform, hurriedly tugged off his small sneakers, and immediately bounded off to the living room to catch the afternoon airing of his favorite cartoon he frequently watched after a long day of school.

“What do ya do now that Haru’s back from school?” Atsumu asked from behind you as you took off your own shoes.

“Well,” you tapped your chin. You figured it was a good start for Atsumu to know what Haru’s schedule was like. “Usually after school, I make him some lunch and he gets to have some TV time, and he usually likes watching either cartoons or volleyball.” Atsumu grinned at the second option.

“Then he does his homework, gets some free-time before dinner, then he’ll get ready for bed.”

“Since he needs to eat lunch, can I help ya?” Atsumu offered.

“Sure, I think I have the ingredients for some of his favorite noodles.”

Truthfully, Atsumu probably shouldn’t have offered. He didn’t have the heart to tell you he was an absolute shit cook, but he was desperate to help in any way he could. But how hard could it be?

Apparently, very hard.

He had cut his finger about five times now cutting a single carrot, had oil pop onto said cut, and burnt the noodles the second you handed him the pan.

Damn Osamu for taking all the cooking genetics in the womb! He cursed silently. He recalled all of his mother’s and Osamu’s fruitless cooking lessons, which all ended in failure. When he had moved out by himself to Osaka and had to feed himself, he solely relied on Osamu, takeout, or instant ramen. He was just thankful you were able to salvage the meal so that Haru miraculously had something to eat that wasn’t burnt to a crisp.

He moped quietly in the corner of the kitchen, holding onto his injured finger that was throbbing from pain, and his hands were already sore from the exhaustive setting practice he did earlier. If he was alone, he’d be waving around his battered hand and cursing up a storm.

“Let me see,” you beckoned him over. He surrendered his hand over to you in shame as you inspected his cuts and burn.

“Haru!” You called out to the boy in the living room. “Go grab the first aid kit from the bathroom, please!”

His cheeks burned in pure embarrassment. He felt like the toddler in this situation, much less a parent.

Haru, ever the responsible child, immediately got out the first aid kit upon your request. You went to grab a few bandaids and burn treatment for Atsumu to put on, but Haru tugged at Atsumu’s pants leg.

“I wanna do it!” Haru exclaimed. Atsumu realized he was referring to the bandage you were about to hand Atsumu. He looked over to you for permission before you nodded, agreeing that it was okay.

Atsumu chuckled. “‘Course, bud.”

“C’mere, I’ll show you what to do,” you told Haru, before carefully instructing him what to do with the bandaid and ointment. Now, a four year old was taking care of him by bandaging his hand. It’s laughable really, a kid, his own child at that, was able to take care of Atsumu before he could take care of him.

“All better!” Haru chirped, showing Atsumu the zoo-themed bandaids now clad on his fingers and palm.

“Ah, I’m sorry, Haru,” Atsumu sighed, rubbing over the plaster on his fingertips. “It seems I’m not a very good cook.”

“‘Tis okay,” Haru responded with a cheery smile that Atsumu thought was all too similar to yours. “I’ll still eat it!”

You ushered Haru to take his food and eat lunch, while Atsumu was still sulking in the kitchen. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit at Atsumu, he was really like a whimpering puppy.

“Don’t worry, he thinks the food is delicious.”

“Yeah, but that’s because ya fixed it,” Atsumu frowned.

You noticed he was still rubbing a hand over his burnt one, so you clasped onto his to still his anxious fidgeting.

“Haru’s not your Michelin-star brother, his taste palette is composed of dinosaur nuggets and jello. He’ll eat just about anything.” You chuckled, rubbing your hand reassuringly over his. He laughed, more so at himself than anything.

Something about being near you made him feel clumsy and nervous. While you were composed and self-assured, he was suddenly back to being the thick-headed teenager that he has desperately tried to outgrow. He wasn’t sure what happened to the polished and confident Miya Atsumu everyone knew, the one that he was so sure he’s been all this time. The star setter, the positive teammate, the Atsumu who knew what he was doing.

But he wasn’t. And it was now of all times that he needed to be that Atsumu.

The last time he felt like the shoes he were wearing were suddenly too big was when Osamu told him he wouldn’t be following him after graduation. Like then, the role he needed to fill was gaping, and it was eating him alive how he didn’t know how to be that. The guy everyone expected him to be, the Miya Atsumu everyone needed him to be, that he wanted to be.

“Y’know, one time I burnt all the cookies I made for his school bake sale,” you suddenly said.

“Huh?” He realized he had strayed too long in his thoughts.

“Haru had a big class bake sale that all the school moms were involved in,” you explained. “It was the first school event I had to work in, and I got assigned cookies. I thought it’d be a slice of cake. How hard could it be, y’know? But I was such a klutz and took a nap while they were baking. Guess I was exhausted from work. The smoke detector woke me up and our landlady was about to call the fire department.”

“Really?” Atsumu replied, a meak laugh escaping from him.

“Yup, and I didn’t have time to bake new ones so I thought I could pass off store-bought ones as homemade, but the other moms saw through my bullshit. Hitomi, the mom you met earlier, gave me an earful about it,” you snickered before looking back at him, still rubbing the pad of your thumb over the bandage across his palm.

“It’s all a learning curve, you get better at it with time. So don’t beat yourself up just because you messed up the first time, alright?”

Atsumu let out a faint chuckle before nodding. The thought of you in the same position as him reassured him somewhat. Of course he didn’t enjoy the thought of you with bandaids all over your hands like himself, but the thought that you could struggle as much as him, while still having the experience of parenthood makes him feel a little better about his lack of cooking skill. He would get it next time.

He looked back down and realized your hand was still on top of his and the blood rushed to his face embarrassingly fast. You noticed his obviously flustered expression, and jerked your hand away.

“Sorry about that–” You stammered quickly.

A string of curses slung through Atsumu’s head. He should’ve been the embarrassed one here.

“No, no, it’s alright!--” Idiot, idiot. The lingering feeling of your hand resting on his made him absentmindedly clench his hand. He tried to fight back the heat still remaining his cheeks. Why on earth was he acting like it was the first time a girl touched his hand? Maybe he was still like a stupid teenager in more ways than one.

Suddenly, your phone was buzzing on the countertop. You turned over to grab it as Atsumu caught his breath.

“Ah, it’s my boss, I should probably take this.”

Atsumu nodded. “I’ll let ya have some quiet.”

Atsumu left the kitchen so you could take your phone call in private, and noticed Haru was just about done with his food at the dining table. His head perked up noticing Atsumu come in.

“Hey mister, why are you hanging out with me and mama today?” Haru suddenly asked through a mouthful of food. “You bored with volleyball or something?”

You and Atsumu hadn’t had the chance to properly explain why he was suddenly spending more time with you both, probably because you weren’t sure how to properly explain it in the first place. Haru’s curiosity was understandable though, it wasn’t exactly ordinary that the athlete he watched on television was suddenly meandering in their apartment.

Atsumu took a seat at the table. “I guess ya could say I’m yer mom’s friend.”

That explanation would do for now, he hoped. Thankfully, it seemed like it sufficed enough for Haru as he nodded. For a four year old, he didn’t need to question the logic behind the situation.

“Okay, then do you wanna watch TV with me?” Haru asked, suddenly changing the topic.

“Sure, what do ya wanna watch?”

Haru hummed in thought, before a lightbulb went off in Atsumu’s head. You had mentioned before that Haru enjoyed volleyball, this could be a perfect bonding opportunity for him. He imagined all the cool facts and conversations they could have about the sport, maybe even Haru and him could play the sport together–

“Haru, do ya wanna watch volleyball?” Atsumu asked the child, sitting beside him at the kitchen table.

Haru took a final bite of his food.

“Nah,” Haru replied. “I wanna watch basketball.”

It was as if the blood in Atsumu’s body ran ice cold and a crack racketed through his heart. Surely what he was hearing wasn’t true.

Atsumu clutched his chest in offense before almost shrieking. “Basketball?!”

“Yeah,” Haru nodded, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“B-But,” Atsumu stammered, feeling a bit of his soul trinkle out of his body. “What’s so good about basketball?! Volleyball’s so much cooler!”

“I started playing it during recess, and it’s so much fun!” Haru grinned, finishing the food on his plate. Before Atsumu could protest, he hopped out of his seat and headed off for the living room. Atsumu knew parenting was going to be hard, but nothing could have prepared him for this.

Atsumu followed Haru to the couch, verbally protesting the idea, but it didn’t stop Haru from grabbing the remote and turning it on to a sports channel playing the dreaded sport. Atsumu sat stiffly on the couch, accepting that he would just have to come to terms with the fact that his son hated him. Okay, he was being a little dramatic, but still! This was the utmost betrayal in his book.

“Slam dunks are so cool,” Haru cooed at the screen.

“Yeah, but service aces are alot cooler.”

For the duration of the game on television, whenever Haru would comment on the game, Atsumu was sure to follow with his own rebuttal about how volleyball was clearly the superior sport. Though, Haru didn’t pay him much mind. Atsumu was relieved when Haru finally decided to turn off the TV, finally putting an end to his impromptu torture (once again, being dramatic). He wondered how you managed to do this everyday and not be at your wits end.

Haru hopped off the couch and went to collect his backpack off the nearby table. Damn, Atsumu thought, he didn’t have to be told to do his homework. Haru must have picked that up from you, because it definitely wasn’t from him. He vaguely remembered almost having to repeat kindergarten had his mother not convinced his teachers otherwise. Mrs. Takahashi did not hold a special place in his heart. She definitely liked Osamu more than him.

“What’s yer homework, bud?” Atsumu asked, looking over the boy’s shoulder as he sat down at the coffee table with his work.

“I have an art project,” Haru explained as he unpacked his crayons. “I have to draw my family.”

Haru suddenly stuck a piece of paper infront of him, and Atsumu blinked in surprise.

“Draw with me!” He requested with a toothy smile. Why not? Atsumu shrugged before accepting the paper. Anything was better than having to watch basketball.

Atsumu was reminded that he was certainly not an artist. But he was surely better at drawing than he was at cooking. He drew something vaguely similar to a tiger– reminiscent of the stuffed toy sitting across from him on the couch, but it came out something more like a balloon animal. Next to Haru’s paper, they both were similar in children-like quality.

“Done!” Haru announced before presenting his paper to Atsumu. It was a typical kindergartener’s drawing, with colorful squiggly lines and a smiley faced sun adorned in the corner.

“This is me and mama,” Haru explained, pointing to two stick figures with bright big smiley faces. “This is Aunt Mimi, and I put you mister!”

“What? How come?” Haru considered him a part of his family? Already?

“You said you’re mama’s friend,” he stated simply. For a four year old, it was all the reason he needed. Atsumu looked down at the photo, a smile creeping on his mouth, even if Haru chose to color his hair with a too-bright yellow crayon.

“Sorry, sorry!” You exclaimed, returning to the living room to find Haru and Atsumu sitting cross-legged at the coffee table. “My boss never knows when to stop talking, I swear.”

“That’s alright, look at what Haru drew!” Atsumu beamed, gesturing to the drawing on the table.

You walked over to inspect the colorful drawing and snorted. “Is that supposed to be you there?”

“Yup,” Atsumu grinned bashfully. He was practically giddy with excitement.

“Your hair is the same color as the sun,” you giggled pointing at the neon yellow sun in the corner of the page.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You couldn’t help but grin at how gleefully Atsumu was beaming at the drawing.

“Could I have this?” Atsumu asked, looking at Haru.

“No, it’s my homework!” Haru retorted, frowning. “I’ll get in trouble.”

You could tell Atsumu was about to give one of his infamous pouting faces that you were starting to grow accustomed to.

“But I could draw you another one,” Haru replied, going to grab another piece of paper.

“I’d like that very much.”

As Haru got to work on another drawing for Atsumu, you both went back to sit at the dining table together.

“How would you say your first day of parenting went?” You asked, across from Atsumu.

“I don’t think I’ll ever recover from Haru asking me to watch basketball over volleyball,” Atsumu scoffed. “Do you think he’s already goin’ through his rebellious phase?”

“It’s not the end of the world,” you snorted. Atsumu seemed practically miserable at the idea that Haru preferred the rival sport. You couldn’t imagine what it would be like if Haru declared he wanted to pursue any other activity other than volleyball at school. Knowing Atsumu, he would probably collapse at the idea.

“Ah, I didn’t realize how late it was gettin’,” Atsumu said, looking at the time on the clock on the wall.

“Yeah, I’ll have to get dinner started and Haru to bed soon,” you nodded, the day having flown by before you could even realize.

“I’ll get goin’ then,” Atsumu said, getting up from the table. “But I hope we can do this again soon?”

“Of course, I’d love it if you came around more often.” you replied and Atsumu’s eyes widened.

“Really?” He replied.

“Haru would too! I can already tell he likes being around you–” You quickly added, realizing that you probably seemed too eager for Atsumu to visit again. But it didn’t seem like he minded at all.

“I hope so,” Atsumu chuckled, going to collect his things. “Even if it seems like he doesn’t like my job.”

You rolled your eyes at him as you called over Haru to say goodbye, and the toddler came to the door with a paper scrunched in his hands.

“I drew you!” He announced proudly, presenting Atsumu the picture he had drawn for him. Once again, you noticed he had used the brightest yellow crayon he had in his box to color his hair.

“Thanks, Haru,” Atsumu grinned, going to ruffle his hair and take the picture from him. “I’ll put it on my fridge as soon as I get home.”

He turned back to you, the picture held carefully in his zoo-bandaged hands. It’s adorable, really.

“I’ll see ya around soon, alright?” Atsumu said with a toothy grin.

“Alright,” you replied, your tone softer than you intended.

Haru and you waved goodbye as you watched Atsumu head out of the apartment and down the hallway. Once he was in the privacy of the elevator, he pressed the drawing against his chest, where his heart was busy welling.

“I’d love it if you came around more often, huh?” He chuckled to himself. He didn't admit to himself he thought about the comment all the way home.

* a little joke at how y/n didn't recognize osamu somehow LMAO, excuse the little logic behind it, it was for plot convenience :)

reblogs, comments, and asks are appreciates! :)

#miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu fluff #atsumu fluff #miya atsumu series #miya atsumu x you #atsumu x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu series #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fluff #miya atsumu smau #work: training wheels

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