#hazel.writes
Text
isn’t it just so pretty to think all along there was some invisible string tying you to me?
Miya Atsumu x gn!reader
WC: 800
fluff
your eyes grow heavier by the second and the sweet call of sleep nearly has you in its grasp until you feel the sensation of cold toes poking at your ankles.
you shriek.
"atsumu!" you chide your boyfriend whose only response is to groan. he lays a heavy arm on your stomach before bringing you closer to his side.
he nuzzles his face against your neck and sucks in a deep breath before letting out a loud sigh.
"i can't sleep."
now it's your turn to groan. "and your solution is to prevent me from sleeping?"
you can feel his mouth quirk up against your neck. "'s less borin' this way."
you roll your eyes despite the fact that he can't see it in the pitch black of the room. "don't you have to be up early for practice tomorrow?"
"don't remind me." you can definitely hear the pout in his voice.
"why are you bothering me then when you should be trying to sleep?" you whine bemoaning the lack of sleep you know you both are going to be getting tonight.
his thumb begins to rub small circles at your side. "got a lot of thoughts running through my head."
"didn't think that was possible," you deadpan.
"ouch." he huffs out a laugh before giving your side a playful pinch. "forgot that ya get mean when you're tired, sweetheart." his hand splays out on your rib cage, fingers soothing over the site where he pinched you.
you shake your head in fond exasperation before shifting to your side to face him. "well, we both know sleep's gonna be escaping us for a bit here so why don't you get those thoughts out of your head, hmm?"
you see his lips quirk in a tired smile before he moves to rest his head on top of yours. you tangle your legs together and bring your arm over his side.
he's silent for a while and for a minute you think maybe he'll stay like that and let you get some sleep, but you should know better than that when you're dealing with the likes of miya atsumu.
"do you think taylor swift broke up with joe alwyn?"
"what?"
he repeats the question.
you have to resist the urge to rub at your forehead, already knowing that you'll be suffering from a migraine in the morning from the lack of sleep.
"tsumu," you start gently. "why are you thinking about taylor swift at 1230 at night?"
he sighs and moves his hand to to hold yours. "i'm thinking about taylor swift and her boyfriend," he corrects you. "or maybe i should say her ex-boyfriend? i don't know. i have a lot of thoughts, okay?"
you decide to humour him. "what kind of thoughts?"
"she's just so strong, you know? singin' all these songs she wrote about him. she wrote new year's day about him! lover! paper rings! oh god," he groans. "she wrote invisible string about him!"
you squeeze your boyfriend's hand in an effort to calm him.
"tsumu," your voice is soft. "what's going on?" you ask because you truly do not understand why your boyfriend is having a taylor swift-related crisis this late in the night.
"s just," he starts. "is love even real?"
you move your hand away from his and stiffen. "what?"
he groans and pulls you tight to his chest. "i love you," his voice is completely genuine. "don't ever question that." he moves a finger to your chin and gently tilts your head up before placing his lips on your forehead.
you bury your face into his chest. "you're so embarrassing."
he gathers his thoughts for a moment and then begins to explain,"it's just that i listen to those songs she wrote about him and think of you, ya know? and now her inspiration for those songs isn't even with her anymore and it just makes my heart ache because i never wanna listen to those songs and not think of you." his eyes remain on yours. "i never wanna listen to her sing the line 'one single thread of gold tied me to you' and not feel my heart flutter in my chest because that line reminds me of you - it reminds me of you and me."
he chuckles and you feel his large hands make their way underneath your shirt seeking comfort in your warmth.
"hey, tsumu," you whisper. "taylor and joe may not have made it, but you know i'm not going anywhere, right?"
the smile on his face lights up the room and sends your heart aflutter. the last thought you have before drifting off to sleep is that you wouldn't mind spending all of your sleepless midnights with him.
#haikyuu#miya atsumu#miya atsumu x reader#atsumu#fluff#tsumu is a swiftie and you can quote me on that#hazel.writes
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Title: Nervous
Author: booksindalibrary (aka me lol)
Rating: general
Pairing: Chrome/Tsuna
Prompt: day 2: first date au, for @khrrarepairweek
Tags/Warnings: fluff, basically & it’s a short one shot
AO3 link
Tsuna didn't ask to be set up with some random girl from college. But his friends told him it'll be good, it'll be great, wow Tsuna you're going on a blind date that's nice cool—
Yamamoto's happiness at Tsuna's branching out meant he had to go. Especially since Gokudera was the one who set it up, and Ryohei even offered advice. A chemistry major from Gokudera's class, he was told. Apparently she was cute. Probably not as cute as Kyoko, though.
Thinking of her made Tsuna's heart tighten. Kyoko, who Tsuna had always been too nervous to approach, had started dating her best friend, Hana. They were a good couple, Tsuna had to admit, and he's not going to confess to a taken woman. So he kept his mouth shut and tried to move on.
So there he was, a second year history major thinking of dropping out, sitting alone in a booth and studying the tabletop.
“Are you Tsuna?” Tsuna looked up at the voice, then he straightened his back.
“Y-Yes,” he stuttered, cursing internally for not sounding cool. “You're Chrome?”
“Yes.” She slid into the seat opposite him.
“I got you a coffee—sorry, I hope you like coffee, um.” Tsuna stared at her with wide eyes. Okay, he thought, she really was pretty. Her eye sparkled (the other had an eyepatch which was cute), and her hair was pulled back with a loose fringe (which was also cute), and he looked at the shape of her cheeks, which was also cute—
“I do like coffee,” she said before taking a sip. Even her voice was cute?
“I'm—glad,” he said. “I—I'm sorry if Gokudera was too insistent.”
“No! He wasn't.” Chrome sat awkwardly for a moment. “I was the one who insisted, anyway.”
“You did?” Tsuna frowned, confused. “Okay?”
Chrome smiled at that, or at least Tsuna thought she did. Her expression definitely softened, anyway. Tsuna could've sworn he saw a glow about her or hearts in her eyes. Or maybe that was his reflection.
Was she cuter than Kyoko? Maybe. Then she met his eyes, and he wondered if he should change that 'maybe' to a 'definitely'.
“I'm sorry,” Tsuna blurted out.
“For what?”
“My friend—Gokudera, I mean, he set this up, but I don't think this was a good idea.” Tsuna's cheeks flushed, and he pressed a hand against them to try and cool them down.
Chrome's hand mirrored Tsuna's, resting just below her eyepatch. “Not a...good idea?”
“Well, it's because,” Tsuna broke out into a sweat, gaze away from her. “There's this girl I like, except she's dating, and I'm like, not over her? So seeing you—assuming you want to of course—feels kind of like using you to get over her, so I guess what I'm saying is-”
“Why not try then?” Chrome's hand removed itself from her face, and she looked almost as nervous as he did. Except she was cuter. “Otherwise I'll have to get over you.”
“What?”
“I said I insisted on this date, didn't I?”
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𝒄𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒗𝒊𝒄𝒆
welcome to amourhyun!
this is a stray kids writing blog, mainly focused on sub!skz content!
𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐦𝐢𝐧
name / alias : hazel
age : 18
pronouns : she/her
sexuality : bisexual
mbti : infj-t
timezone : eastern standard time
𝐬𝐤𝐳 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬
chan ⎯ ♡. sweetheart
minho ⎯ ♡. starlight
changbin ⎯ ♡. my moon
hyunjin ⎯ ♡. prince
jisung ⎯ ♡. angel
felix ⎯ ♡. sunshine
seugmin ⎯ ♡. honey boy
jeongin ⎯ ♡. baby bread
all other idols will be tagged with their group and name!
𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬
writing ⎯ hazel.writing
blog updates / info ⎯ hazel.updates
rambles / random text posts ⎯ hazel.rambles
asks ⎯ hazel.answered
anons ⎯ ♡. anon
mutuals ⎯ ♡. moots
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I Don’t Care If You’re Insincere
Sakusa Kiyoomi x reader; angst
WC: 590
There’s a faint buzzing under your pillow. You groan as your bleary eyes squint trying to shield themselves from the too bright light of your phone screen.
1 missed call.
Despite it being two-thirty something in the morning, you feel your heart rate pick up as your eyes take note of the number beside the notification.
1 voice message.
Your fingers work on autopilot as you tap in your pin and unlock your phone. Your thumb hovers over the notification. Was there a point in even listening when he hasn’t heard you in so long? Your thumb slips and presses the button.
You hear the sound of laughter in the background and know that he must be with the rest of the team. The laughter grows muffled and more faint. He must be moving away from the group. There’s silence for a while and then a quiet sigh.
“Hi sweetheart.”
His voice, a sound that once washed comfort over you, now prickles at your skin. But despite yourself, you close your eyes. If you shut your eyes tight enough maybe you could delude yourself into believing that he was with you, lying right by your side. But that’s wrong. This. No, you. You aren’t where he belongs.
“You looked too peaceful this morning for me to disturb,” he says with a quiet chuckle and you realize your face has contorted into a scowl as the now familiar feeling of irritation settles in your chest. You had woken up that morning, arm immediately stretching out to hold onto Kiyoomi, but all you were able to grasp were the already made sheets on his side of the bed.
“I know we have a lot to talk about when I get back.”
Sakusa Kiyoomi is a man who chooses his words carefully. Most would call him blunt, but you’d prefer to call him sincere. He does sincerity as easily as breathing. He says get back with an air of nonchalance, but you notice it; he doesn’t say come home. And to be honest, there is a part of you that’s relieved. These four walls you had moved into with him all that time ago hasn’t felt like a home for the two of you for a while now.
“I know you must be sleeping. I’ll call in the morning,” he promises and then there is silence on the line. You almost tap the button to end the call, but then you hear it.
“I love you.”
Damn him.
You shouldn’t be well acquainted with the growing feeling of resentment in your chest, but here you lie with sobs wracking your body. You love this man, there is no denying it. And he says he loves you back. You replay the voice message just to hear the last three words.
I love you.
He had sounded so genuine, so goddamn sincere.
You tap his contact on your phone. One ring and then two.
“Sweetheart?” his voice crackles over the line. The connection must not be the best wherever it is that he and the team were heading to.
“Kiyo,” you gather your breath. “I love you.”
He says your name. “Have you been crying?” And although you two aren’t connected via video, you can see the scrunch of his brow in your mind.
You laugh, and it sounds hollow even to your ears. “I love you, Kiyoomi,” you repeat. “Please tell me you love me too.”
He doesn’t hesitate. “Of course,” he breathes. “I love you too.”
“Kiyoomi.” You pause.
“Stop lying to yourself.”
#i'm back!!!#with angst#hazel.writes#sakusa kiyoomi x reader#sakusa x reader#sakusa kiyoomi#haikyuu#strongly influenced by All I Need To Hear by The 1975
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Pa
Ushijima x f!reader
CW: Fluff!!! tooth-rotting fluff
Word Count: 660
A/N: For @mrskenmakozume ‘s Oh My Daddy! Collab
The baby monitor on your bedside table springs to life. With bleary eyes, you shuffle to get up. However, before you can swing your legs over the side of the bed, your husband’s heavy arm settles on top of your midsection.
“Stay,” his voice, even deeper from just having woken up, commands.
Ushijima slowly makes his way out of bed with you, making sure to cover you with the blanket before fully getting up. “I’ll go see to the little peanut. You need to get some rest,” his breath tickles your ear. And you aren’t about to argue with that, especially not when he presses quick kiss to your cheek before his footsteps pad over to the baby’s room.
Over the monitor, you can hear Toshi coo at your little bean and soon enough, her cries are settled.
You must have dozed off at some point, because the next time you are awoken by a slight shaking of your shoulder.
You rub the sleep from your eyes only to see Toshi kneeling by the bed with your baby swaddled to his chest. The sight fills you with an immediate warmth. How did you get so lucky?
“Love, sorry to have woken you,” he whispers as his left hand continues to rub circles on your baby’s back.
“S’alright,” you respond with a small smile. “How’s our little bean?”
His fingers go to rub just above his left eye, an action that you know signals that your husband is perplexed at a situation. Finally, he sighs. “I gave her a bit of a bottle to drink, burped her, changed her, and rocked her, but she’s still not falling asleep. Is there something that I may have overlooked?”
Your smile grows wider at his words. “She’s being a tough little bean, isn’t she?” you say.
“Yes, I do not think that there is anything else I should have done,” your husband responds in his typical statement-of-fact manner. “Maybe she just wants me to hang out with her?”
Then, he turns to your daughter. “Do you want your papa to hang out with you?” he asks. Your baby giggles and you can swear both you and Toshi’s heart have melted at the cuteness.
A wide grin threatens to split his face into two as Toshi brings his head down to plant messy kisses on your daughter’s face. Her giggles continue as you sit up to grab your phone and record this precious moment.
“Pa!” she squeals. Toshi abruptly stops.
His eyes are comically wide as his eyes dart between you and your daughter. “Did you -?” the question doesn’t even leave his lips before you’re nodding excitedly.
“Say it again, darling,” he coos at her.
“Little bean please,” you join in.
“Pa!” she shouts again with an accompanied giggle.
Even in the dim light, you can see your husband’s eyes well up with tears. Suddenly, you’re overwhelmed by emotions and a tight embrace.
“Thank you,” his voice sounds tight and you know that he’s trying to keep more tears at bay.
Taking the hand that’s not rubbing circles on your daughter’s back, you entwine your fingers together. “Thank you,” you say to him as you lean over to place a soft kiss on your daughter’s head and then on Toshi’s.
You and your husband continue to stare lovingly at your daughter as she continues to babble with intermittent exclamations for her dad thrown in-between.
Toshi’s hand squeezes yours. “You know, it wouldn’t be fair if only I was the one given our child’s first words,” he states.
You look over at him. “What are you trying to say, Toshi?”
A playful smile reserved only for you and your daughter makes its way onto your husband’s handsome face. “I am trying to say that if we had another child, then maybe you could have them claim ‘Mama’ as their first word seeing as our little peanut here has already claimed ‘Papa’ as hers.”
#ohmydaddycollab#Ushijima Wakatoshi#ushijima x reader#haikyuu#fluff#haikyuu x reader#hazel.writes#this was gonna be angst!!! but my heart could not take it
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Seashells By The Seashore
Summary: You, your kids, and Kuroo always make the time to go to the beach together.
CW: nothing. this is just fluff.
A/N: I don’t want kids. But I’d have Kuroo’s kids.
Listen, Kuroo’s early childhood was not pleasant. Hence, the way he sleeps and his signature hair. His Ma packed up her stuff and split, leaving his Pa to do the best that he could. And while he would say it wasn’t a harsh upbringing by any means, there were times when his Pa was busy trying to make ends meet and couldn’t find the time for little Tetsurou. He was smart. He understood, although that didn’t mean that it hurt any less.
So when he meets you and starts your little family, he vows to always make the time to spend with you. The head of the JVA could be on his ass, and you know that Kuroo Tetsurou will always put you and your little ones first. That’s how these yearly visits to the beach started.
You’d pack up all the necessities - beach towels, a bottle of sunscreen and aloe vera because Kuroo burns easily, snacks and drinks in a cooler, and a beach umbrella - then stow them in your minivan (yes, you and him were definitely adulting now). Then, you both would take one of your kids in each arm, and gently buckle them into their seats. Thankfully, they take after you more than they take after him and would promptly fall asleep on the ride there.
And each year without fail, Kuroo would stop at this gift shop near the beach. It was a tourist trap which meant that the prices were always outlandish, but he’d pull into a parking spot and tell all of you to wait in the car. And every year without fail, he’d come back with a popsicle for each of you.
This is the year where you realize that popsicles aren’t the only thing that he’s buying at the shop. You don’t notice it at first, but as he chases after the kids, you see him dig into his pockets each time a wave crashes into shore.
“What are you doing Tets?” you ask your husband.
He turns to you with wide eyes, looking as if you had caught him doing something illegal. But then his eyes are drawn towards your children who are giggling and trying to push each other in the water. He smirks as he puts a finger to his lips and sneakily brings up a seashell just quick enough for you to see before pushing it back into his pocket.
“Hey, if one of you drowns the other, then you won’t have anyone to help you find seashells!” he shouts after the kids.
At his words, they immediately clamber to their father. Finding seashells was the activity that the kids were always excited about. Kuroo had suggested it when the both of them were old enough to start walking and ever since, your two kids would have a competition to see who could find the most seashells and which shell was the best one.
“Okay, on the count of three, I want the both of you to find as many shells as you can, but only go from here to where we started, alright?” he directs them and they nod along. The kids grin at their dad, legs getting ready to dash ahead. “Three!” he exclaims and they take off.
As you watch your kids pushing and shoving each other on their way to find shells along the water, you gently nudge your husband. “So, you’ve been doing that since the start, haven’t you?”
He nods while he brings an arm to wrap around your waist. “I just want them to have good memories of the family being together.”
You lean your head against his shoulder. “Tetsurou, you know that they will, right? They’ve been keeping these seashells in their room and bringing them to show-and-tell.”
He’s staring at your kids but you can tell he’s heard you by the way his smile widens. Then, because he wouldn’t be the man you fell in love with if he didn’t somehow manage to break any moment that the two of you had together, his hold on your waist tightens and before you know it, he’s trying to pull you into the water.
You shriek and manage to bring him down with you. “Kuroo! What the hell was that for?”
He cackles as his arms once again wrap themselves around you. “I’ve been trying to get you out of these clothes since we got here. Figured this was the fastest way to do it.”
BONUS:
Your husband groans in the passenger seat of the car. “Hon, where’d you pack the aloe vera?”
Your son laughs at his dad’s expense, but your daughter, ever the helpful one, rummages around a bag before finding the bottle.
She hands the bottle to him. “This will make daddy look less lobster-y.”
Taglist: @snowcoveredkiss @sweetkoshi
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First Friend w/ Miya Atsumu
His Ma was right. Making friends as an adult was definitely trickier than making friends as kids, and even then, that was something he could never get quite right without Samu by his side. But he had promised, and Atsumu was anything but a promise breaker.
fluff + some angst but mostly just Miya twins brainrot
Word Count: 3.1k (idk how this got this long. this was supposed to be atsumu x reader and it still sort of is at the end, but my feels for the twins could not be contained so it’s more of a love letter to their relationship)
A/N: Part of @suckerforsugawara‘s A First Time For Everything collab. Thank you for letting me join! And I hope you have a wonderful birthday month 🥳
Miya Atsumu was eight when he began to recognize the differences between himself and his twin. Adults always preferred Samu to him, that was always a given. His aunties and uncles always said they could distinguish between the two – they just needed to look for the boy who was running around like he had ants in his pants and they immediately knew that it was Atsumu. He remembered his uncle ruffling his hair and calling him his ‘precious little troublemaker.’ Other relatives and family friends weren’t as kind and also called him a troublemaker, but he knew what they meant when they accompanied their words with a frown.
On the other hand, most people never had anything bad to say about Samu. He figured it must have something to do with how they could leave his brother alone and not come back to find the room looking like a tornado had gone through it (in his defense, he really hadn’t meant to make all that mess; he just wanted to see how long he could keep the ball up for).
He could acknowledge that he was definitely not the most well-behaved child. He didn’t like to admit it, but he could see why the adults preferred Samu to him. Samu didn’t start bawling at the drop of a hat. Samu didn’t start screaming when things didn’t go his way. Samu knew when to be quiet.
That was okay with him though. He didn’t need the adults to like him. He had Samu and their Ma. They were all he needed.
He loved his Ma and he’s sure that his Ma loved him. She did her very best but he still remembered the one time that she had snapped at him. With tears in her eyes, she had asked him why he couldn’t be more like Samu. For a boy who was only eight years old at the time, he could still recall how at that very moment, his Ma had reminded him of the Koi swimming around at the temple pond with her mouth opening and closing as if that would help push the words back into her mouth.
“But I’m Samu, Ma. And he’s Tsumu,” his twin had responded for him.
Their Ma had scooped the both of them up and wrapped them in her arms. Atsumu hadn’t even realized he was crying until his brother and Ma were wiping the tears off of his face.
“Don’t be such a crybaby,” Samu had said which he thought was rich coming from his brother who just seconds ago had been sniffling and still had the evidence of tear tracks on his face.
“I’m not!” he had protested as he weakly stuck his tongue out at his twin.
Their Ma had let out a wet laugh before giving the two of them a kiss on their foreheads. “I’m so sorry, loves. I’m so sorry,” she apologized. “I know that you’re Tsumu and that you’re Samu. I don’t ever want you to be anyone but yourselves.”
“Okay Ma!” both twins had shouted in unison before both of them laid a kiss on each of their Ma’s cheeks with the hopes that this would make their Ma smile and stop crying.
Since then, Atsumu had taken his Ma’s words to heart. He was going to live life unapologetically as Miya Atsumu. If people weren’t fans of him then that was their loss. He didn’t need them. All he needed were the two people that his then tiny arms had wrapped themselves around.
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At the age of 10, he and Samu had just discovered their love for volleyball. That summer, the twins breathed, slept, and ate nothing but volleyball. So what if his classmates and the other kids at school looked at him like he had a screw loose in his head? He and Samu were gonna be the best brothers on the professional volleyball scene and no snot-nosed brat’s mean-spirited gossip and judgement were going to get in the way of that. If they were gonna be scrubs, then he was gonna treat them like the scrubs that they were.
So why did it bother him when Samu had sat him down and told him that he was going to be nice? Atsumu had nearly choked on his rice at the thought.
Living with his twin, Atsumu had firsthand experience and knew that Samu was as much of a jerk as he was. In fact, he’d even say Samu was a bigger jerk. Atsumu knew how to start a fight and would often find himself inadvertently initiating squabbles with his peers due to a careless word or two. However, it was Samu who often ended fights, whether that be with his fists or even just a pointed look that was accompanied with a single raised eyebrow.
And being nice? What was that even supposed to mean? Did Samu even know how to be nice? If being nice meant lying, even lying by omission, then he’d say his twin knew how to be nice. And on reflecting on himself, Atsumu thought that he was nice enough. He knew his spikers’ preferences and was nice enough to set it to them exactly how they wanted it.
Alright, some would say that wasn’t the exact truth, but Tsumu knew that his sets would improve their individual skills as well. Wasn’t that nice enough? He was looking out for them in the long run, after all.
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At the age of 11, he and Samu had been put in different classes. When the teacher asked them to partner up, Atsumu was usually left-behind. Everyone’s last choice and oftentimes, not even a choice that anyone had taken.
This time was no different as their history teacher had asked them to partner up to do a presentation. Desks had been pushed together and conversation started flowing. However, Atsumu had found himself once again sitting alone.
“Miya?” the teacher had called and Atsumu had hesitated. Despite being in this class for a couple of months without his brother, being called by his last name was something that was still unfamiliar to him.
“Yes, ma’am?” he steeled himself for her upcoming question.
“Do you have a partner?”
Atsumu liked his teacher, really he did, but surely by now she should have realized that he did most of the assigned work by himself. Academically, Atsumu wasn’t stupid. In fact, he even preferred getting the work done by himself so he could do it on his own schedule.
“No ma’am,” he responded. The look of pity she sent his way nearly made the tips of his ears flush in embarrassment.
“Do you even have any friends?” one of his classmates had sneered just loud enough that Atsumu knew the words were meant for him to overhear.
Atsumu simply raised a single eyebrow, a trick he had learned from his twin. “’Course I do,” he answered simply.
“Oh yeah?” the boy shot back. “Osamu doesn’t count. He’s your brother.”
That afternoon, Atsumu had spent practice sending sets to his spikers that they could easily get to. After the fifth consecutive easy set, he could tell the others had sensed there was something off about him, but no one had bothered to ask. They were probably just relieved he wasn’t forcing them to jump higher to reach the ball. He really was wasting his time playing with this bunch of scrubs.
On the way home Samu had nudged his shoulder and all his hope of sleeping off his classmate’s words faded away. “Oi, what’s been up with you today?”
Tsumu recalled shrugging in response but his brother had sped up to stand in his way.
“Can we be friends even if we’re brothers?” the question finally came out in a whisper.
Samu had given him a look as if he had lost his mind. “What kinda question is that?”
He had been about to shrug again but Samu had placed his hands on both of his shoulders. “Quit doin’ that,” his twin had reprimanded. “We’re not friends.”
At this, he had turned his head away from Samu, afraid that he was going to start crying if he looked at him.
“Yer such a crybaby,” Samu had said before tightening the grip he had on his shoulders.
Atsumu tried to hide the sniffle. “You just said we weren’t friends!”
“Oh my God,” his brother sighed in exasperation. “We’re brothers. Twins! That’s better than friends, ain’t it?”
Slowly, Atsumu turned to look at his brother who had a look of murderous intent on his face.
“Now tell me who the idiot is that planted that idea in your head?” Samu had demanded.
He had shaken his head. “I don’t know his name.”
Samu had nearly slapped his own forehead in irritation. “It’s two months into the school year, Tsum, and ya don’t know your classmates’ names?”
He had squawked indignantly at that. “I’ve got more important things to remember than that ya know!”
His brother simply rolled his eyes and let go of his shoulders. “Sure ya do.”
The next day, Atsumu had been woken up by Samu who had hit his face with a pillow and told him that he was going on ahead for some class duties. Atsumu had simply rolled over and covered his face with his blanket, a decision that he had started to regret, as he had to practically sprint to get to his morning class on time.
Thankfully, he had made it with a couple of minutes to spare and was about to set his head down on his desk when a shriek of surprise from the front of the room shocks him out of his reverie.
In walked the boy from yesterday with a split lip and what looked to be the beginning of a black eye starting to form.
At dinner that night, Atsumu pushed his pudding cup towards his twin. He had noticed the bandages around Samu’s knuckles at practice which confirmed his earlier suspicions. It really made his decision to skip his daily dose of sugar easier to stomach.
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Atsumu would say that his high school years were miles better than his earlier years. Samu and him were on on a team that consistently made it to Nationals. Things were different than they were back in middle school. His teammates were actually his friends. For the first time in his life, he could definitively say that he had friends.
He had managed to rope Ginjima into a couple of schemes with Samu and although Suna instigated a fair share of fights, he knew that the tired-looking boy also cherished their friendship if the amount of Facebook poke wars that Suna initiated counted for anything. Then there was Aran, Omimi, and Kita who had also burrowed their way into his life, acting like concerned and often overworked older brothers. Inarizaki was a tight-knit family.
So when the time had come for him to leave Inarizaki and Hyogo behind and start a new life in Osaka, he could freely admit that he was scared. This would be the first time in his life without Osamu, and despite promises to check in every other day, he knew that his brother would need to start prioritizing his own goals and he couldn’t do that if he was worried about how Atsumu was going to fare in the big city by himself.
To put his brother at ease, he had told Samu that he was going to make friends – specifically, he promised to make friends outside of volleyball. Samu had laughed at this which had earned him a quick shove.
“Hey! Don’t look at me like that. I’ve been told I can be quite charming when I want to be!” he had defended himself.
In response, his stupid brother had only continued to cackle. “Good luck makin’ friends when I’ve only heard Gran call ya charming.”
“I’ll show ya!” He had pledged. “I’ll make tons of friends and introduce ya to them.”
Samu had simply grinned in response. “I can’t wait.”
It was now a month into living in Osaku, and Atsumu would say that he was getting used to living life with his teammates. Some of them were also living in the same team-provided shared apartment which had made it easier for Atsumu to befriend his teammates.
Some would say that familiarity breeds contempt, but for Atsumu, living together with his teammates kept the waves of loneliness at bay. He found himself accompanying Barnes and Inumaki on their trips into the city which also helped him familiarize himself with his new home. He worked out with his captain Meian. He also often had lunch out with Bokuto, outings which he would never disclose to his nutritionist due to the amount of spicy ramen challenges the two of them had participated in.
Osaka was slowly starting to become a second home. The konbini across the street no longer sent a pang straight to his chest with memories of pestering Samu or Suna to buy him a popsicle during the sweltering summer months in Hoygo. He also found himself sleeping past the alarm that Samu had set for years which led to him actually waking up refreshed because he had woken up to his own alarm and as a result, had gotten a couple of extra minutes of sleep. Sure, he missed his Ma and Samu’s cooking but Bokuto had shown him to enough restaurants that his dining options were only limited by how many lies he wanted to spin to his nutritionist.
However, despite this feeling of slowly becoming settled, he hadn’t found the time to fulfill his promise to his brother. All of his friends in Osaka were either on the team or worked for the team. He still hadn’t managed to make friends outside the team.
His Ma was right. Making friends as an adult was definitely trickier than making friends as kids, and even then, that was something he could never get quite right without Samu by his side. But he had promised, and Atsumu was anything but a promise breaker.
This is how he found himself seated across a table from you. The ramen place he had frequented was surprisingly busy for 2:25 on a Tuesday afternoon. So when you had shown up, the waiter had directed you over to his table as it was the only one with an empty chair.
“I’m sorry about this,” you apologize. “I can always come back another time if you’re not okay to share a table,” you had offered.
When you look at him expectantly, he had to force himself to respond as he felt his brain short circuit at the shy smile you had offered him. “No worries,” he finally replies despite the fact there were indeed many worries. Nonetheless, he gestures for you to take the seat across from him.
With that settled, the waiter gladly takes both of your orders and leaves to cater to the other tables around you.
Atsumu doesn’t really do too well with silences and he finds himself bouncing his knee to help shake off his growing anxiety. “I don’t usually eat with strangers, but I figure if we introduce ourselves to each other then we wouldn’t really be strangers, now would we?” he babbles. “I’m Miya Atsumu, but you can just call me Atsumu.”
You grin and introduce yourself in return. “So we’re not strangers now. I’m glad because my parents always told me never to talk to strangers,” you respond and he can feel the weight on his chest lighten as he chuckles.
Before the two of you can continue to converse, the waiter returns with your food.
“Itadakimasu,” the both of you say in unison before digging in.
He must have done something wrong because you’re looking over at him with a furrowed brow and concern evident on your face.
“Hey, what’s going on?” you ask. “You haven’t taken a single bite.”
He looks down at the unused chopsticks in his hand. “Oh, it’s nothin’ really,” he replies. “It’s just that I’ve never seen someone look so excited to eat. I think I finally get what my brother was sayin’ now.”
You can feel your face start to heat up. Was that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?
He smacks his forehead at your reaction. “There I go again, ruinin’ things. I really just meant that you look cute when you’re eating. Like you’re really enjoyin’ it,” he trails off. “...And now you probably think I’m a creep, don’t ya?”
This time, your cheeks are flushing for a whole different reason. “Nah, it’s alright, Atsumu. You’re right, I am pretty excited to be eating. I’ve been wanting to try this place for so long that when I heard they were having a big special, I just had to come by. Plus, I skipped breakfast specifically for this,” you explained.
He exaggerates wiping the sweat off his forehead and shoots you a grin before diving into his own bowl.
You can’t help but giggle at his antics. “Now you’re the one who looks absolutely famished.”
He chuckles along with you. “I’ve got a brother at home so if I didn’t eat fast then I wasn’t eatin’ at all.”
You beam at him. “Sounds like what my siblings would say about me.”
He snorts and with the ice sufficiently broken, the both of you share your meal with pleasant conversation interspersed in between.
To his shock, the conversation flows easily between the two of you. Sure, he puts his foot in his mouth sometimes, but you don’t seem to mind even a little bit as you laugh good-naturedly as he flounders to come up with an excuse. It wasn’t his fault. You made him nervous and this was the longest he’d held a conversation with someone without any ulterior motives to rile them up and throw them off their game. If anything, you were the one throwing him off of his game.
To his complete disappointment, the time with you was already coming to an end as the waiter was already coming over to hand you both your bills.
“Hey, I can take care of it,” you offer.
He shakes his head. “Ma would have my ass if she found out I let ya pay for my meal. Actually, let me get yours. A thank you for puttin’ up with me.”
Your hand reaches over to his elbow and he stills. “There was nothing to put up with, Atsumu. I really enjoyed being able to meet and spend time with you today.”
The sincerity in your voice shocks him.
He chuckles wryly. “Please, ya don’t just gotta be sayin’ that to be polite. People have told me I can be a lot.”
You frown and he thinks that he’s done it now, but the words that leave your lips shock him in the best possible way “Sure, you may be a lot more than people bargained for but that’s their problem. For me, I’d say this was the most fun I’ve had in a while.”
“Really?” he breathes. “Even if I talk too much, say things I don’t mean in the heat of the moment, and can’t cook to save my life?” He doesn’t know why he’s saying this, but he only knows he needs to lay it all out there.
You nod. “Yeah, well, I’d obviously put you in your place,” you tease. “But it’s not like I’m perfect either.”
This is it, he thinks. He’ll take the plunge. “Would you want to be friends with me?”
Your grin has him going stupid. “I’d love that.”
His fingers are already itching to dial his brother’s number to tell him the news.
“You can call me Tsumu then. That’s what my friends call me.”
Taglist: @snowcoveredkiss
#afirsttimeforeverythingcollab#i will always be emo for the miya twins#miya atsumu#miya osamu#haikyuu#angst#fluff#miya twins#atsumu x reader#hazel.writes
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Lovers to Friends w/ Miya Osamu
Word Count: ~1.4
CW: angst, breakup
Some would say the way to the heart is through the stomach. You didn’t truly understand what they meant until the very first bite of your order at Onigiri Miya. Similarly, you barely had an inkling of what falling in love and loving someone was like until you stumbled into love with Miya Osamu.
There is nothing that could compare to being in love with Miya Osamu and being loved by him in return. Not being a man of many words, Samu would show his love for you through his actions. When dropping you off after dates, he would always wait for you to close the door to your apartment building before driving away. He memorized your coffee order after the first date and knows that you take an extra sugar in your drink on days when you need an extra pick-me-up. And when interacting in a group of people, he was attentive to you and would always make an effort to include you in the conversation.
Maybe that’s why three months after breaking up and promising to stay friends, you’ve found it impossible to start working on mending your broken heart.
While you knew from the start that agreeing to stay friends with the man would cause you nothing but heartache, you also knew that you would likely not survive the alternative which would be to cut him completely out of your life. After all, if home was a person then home would be Miya Osamu.
It’s kinda funny when you think back to how you didn’t know at all what you’d been missing out on until you started loving Osamu. But now that you know, you wonder how you can go back to being oblivious to the all-encompassing love that he can give - the love that he decided he no longer wanted to share with you.
It was a classic case of ‘it’s not you, it’s me.’ His guilt for spending long hours at his restaurant had gnawed at his conscience and he stated that he didn’t feel it was fair for you to be in a relationship with someone who couldn’t love you the way that he felt you deserved to be loved. When he brought up the topic of a breakup, you agreed in an effort to save face. When he proposed the idea of still remaining friends, you had jumped at the chance to keep a little bit of Osamu in your life. After all, you were friends before you started dating so surely you could be friends after your romantic relationship.
The breakup wasn’t so much a collapse as it was the quiet closing of a chapter in Osamu’s life and a book in yours.
You can admit that the first few hangouts with mutual friends were tinged with awkwardness, but that soon dissolved as the comfort you felt around Osamu never seemed to vanish. The same could be said for his comfort level around you.
When it was the two of you alone together though, that’s when it became dangerous for your sanity. Osamu’s habit of speaking through his actions rather than his words often left you wondering if maybe you had a chance at reuniting with him. It was the way he would brush past you with a quiet ‘Excuse me, darlin’,” and a hand on your waist. It was how he always greeted you with a small smile on his face even on days when you’d come into his shop to find him slammed with orders. Or even how his good morning texts had never stopped and how he would send you pictures of stray cats with a message reading that he was thinking of you and hoping that you’ve been having a lovely day.
How were you supposed to grieve the loss of his love when he showed you that even if he didn’t love you like that anymore, he still had some form of love for you? It was cruel and you never wanted to associate Miya Osamu with anything but positive connotations even if it’s true that he still holds your heart captive.
Tonight was one of those nights when you, despite your better judgement, ended up at Onigiri Miya after a long day of work. There were a handful of people occupying the other tables at the restaurant, but it seemed that Osamu had continued to save your usual booth for you. After all, it was here that he literally tripped over his own feet in his effort to ask you out on your first date.
“Hey Samu,” you say after taking a sip of the coffee he had made for you.
Across from you, the man raises a thick eyebrow and you know that it’s your cue to continue.
“Have you been adding some extra sugar to my coffee these days?”
He leans back against the booth. “I’m surprised it took ya this long to realize.”
You place the cup of coffee back down on the table and the drink sloshes around for a bit before settling back down.
You bow your head praying to keep the tears at bay.
“Hey,” his voice calls out softly and you feel his hand softly grasp yours. “Are ya doin’ alright there?”
You give an almost imperceptible shake of your head as you move your hand out from his grasp. You make the mistake of looking up to find a look of confusion and worry on his face.
Taking a breath before replying, you can’t help the question that spills from your mouth. “How long have you been adding an extra pack of sugar to my drink?”
A moment and then two passes. In a quieter voice, he responds, “Ya looked like you needed it after our split.”
You hadn’t realized that. In all fairness though everything tasted like cardboard after the breakup, so you could be forgiven for not noticing at the start.
You shake your head once more. “Why?”
He sighs. “What do ya mean?”
You close your eyes and try to count to ten in an effort to control yourself. “Why are you acting like this?”
He blinks. “I don’t know what ya mean, darlin’. I’ve always acted like this.”
Now it’s your turn to sigh. “See, that’s the problem. You’re treating me like you’re still in love with me and I know that isn’t true.”
Your words lays suspended in the air between you. Your entire being hopes that he refutes your statement, tells you that he does love you and is still in love with you and that maybe, he’s finally realized that breaking up with you has been the greatest mistake of his life.
Instead, he just stares at you. You know that face. You’ve seen it too many times on him to not know that it’s the face he wears when his customers have tried to press their luck with him and he ends up having to masterfully but gently turn them down with a self-deprecating chuckle and a joke about how he’s married to his job and can’t treat a pretty thing like them right.
Oh.
You try to will yourself to stand up but your body disobeys as if it knows that you need to hear his response to start working on any form of closure.
You steel yourself for the sting of rejection, but what you get is worse than that.
“’m sorry,” he apologizes as he pushes his cap back and off his head. The hat hair that you’ve always found so unfairly attractive on him mocking you. You find it ironic that his hands are still reaching out in attempt to hold yours and comfort you from himself.
Your body obeys you this time as you gather the strength to slide out of the booth and stand up. You toss a few hundred yen onto the table for your meal and drink.
“Ya know ya never have to pay here,” he says as his eyes search your face.
You shrug. “Yeah, I know. And I’m sorry too, but I can’t keep my promise.”
With those words you turn away from Miya Osamu. The bell chimes as you walk out of his restaurant.
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Work from Home
Word Count: 1.1K
Content Warning: Fluff, Kuroo being an old man who doesn’t know how to use Zoom. Set in 2020 so there is frequent mention of the ‘rona.
You scoff as you remember your boss’ parting words on what you now consider your last day at the office. “I’ll see you all in two weeks!” - Saito had called out. She was so sure that this whole COVID situation would blow over. Suffice to say, that it hadn’t, and you’ve been working remote for the past couple of months.
You didn’t mind it so much though. You no longer had to rush out of your apartment just to squeeze yourself in with the throng of people already in the train car to get to work. Not to mention, the work attire was more relaxed. Sure, you still liked to wear a professional top, but your boss didn’t have to know that you’ve been wearing your pajama bottoms for three of the past five days.
But as relaxed as workwear had gotten, you were not prepared to see your coworker, Kuroo Tetsurou, pop up on the Zoom screen shirtless.
It seems that you could now count having the opportunity to shamelessly ogle a shirtless Kuroo as another perk of working remote during a worldwide pandemic.
You could admit, even if it’s just to yourself, that you harbour a crush for the man. From your interactions with him, you know him to be quick-witted yet sincere and undoubtedly very passionate about his job working as part of the JVA Sports Promotion Division. And he almost always had his cat beside him during these online meetings which only served to further endear him to you.
Really who could blame you for sometimes keeping your camera off and taking the opportunity to admire his facial features without fear of getting called out? However, during other normal meetings, the man always had his clothes on.
You don’t think you currently have COVID but you pinch yourself nonetheless to make sure that the sight in front of you isn’t some sort of virus-induced hallucination.
And what a sight he makes.
You know that the man had played volleyball in high school, but you were not prepared for this. Sure, before COVID he would walk around the office wearing suits that looked tailored to his body and waistcoats that flaunted his defined waist. But seeing him like this? You were glad your camera wasn’t on, because you know for a fact that your face is flushed.
You have so many questions.
First of all, how far away was he sitting from his web cam that his entire upper body was able to fit in the frame?
Secondly, did he not know about the option to automatically turn his camera off at the start of meetings?
Thirdly, how creepy unethical would it be if you decided to take a screenshot? As far as you know, Zoom doesn’t notify people if screenshots are being taken... at least you don’t think it does.
Okay, maybe you only had three questions. It’s not your fault that the hotness he radiates has literally fried your brain.
Thank the heavens above that the two of you are both keeners and, therefore, are the only two people currently in the meeting so far.
Clearing your throat, your thumb presses the space button on your keyboard to unmute yourself.
“Kuroo-san,” you start.
The man in question cutely tilts his head to the side in response to hearing his name.
“Kuroo-san,” you repeat. “I’m just gonna outright say this. Your camera’s on.”
You can see his eyebrows raise as it seems like he’s just realized his current state.
“Shit!” he curses as he scrambles to turn off his camera. He groans. “This is Kenma’s fault! He must have done something to the settings when he borrowed my laptop over the weekend.”
You can’t hold in your giggles as the man nearly drops himself to the floor in an effort to protect his modesty. You don’t know who this Kenma is but you resolve to find out if only to thank the other man for the glorious meal you were able to lay your eyes on.
“Oy, I can hear you, you know,” he grumbles.
You cover your mouth in an attempt to stifle your laughter and turn on your own camera in an attempt to show him that you don’t mean any harm by it. You raise your hands upwards with your palms facing out. “Sorry, sorry,” you apologize in between giggles. “You kinda just remind me of your cat right now.”
“Bean?” he asks. “What’s Bean got to do with this?”
You grin. “Well, the only thing I can see of you right now is your hair. Kinda reminds me of how your cat’s tail sometimes pops up on screen.”
At your words, he lets loose a deep belly laugh. He then raises his head up so that you can at least see his eyes now. There’s a conspiratorial glint to them as he says, “I’m glad Bean’s there to provide some entertainment. Honestly, she’s saved my ass a few times when I’ve almost nodded off.”
You snort. “She’s definitely done the same for me as well. But speaking of saving your ass, you should probably turn your camera off. I mean, I’m not complaining, but the boss definitely might.”
He gives you a quick wink before finally shutting his video off. “Yeah, I owe you one,” he says. “Although, Saito might not mind either.”
You shake your head in amusement.
“Hey! I see you rolling your eyes at me!” And even without his camera on, you can hear the pout in his voice.
“You were meant to,” you reply simply.
Before he can offer a rebuttal, you see that Saito and other coworkers have begun to join the call.
“Ah good!” you see Saito clap her hands together. She calls your name and then Kuroo’s.
“Kuroo, are you there?” she asks.
He reappears on your screen. This time, unfortunately thankfully, he’s wearing a button down shirt as he holds a surprisingly docile Bean in his arms.
“Yes, sorry ma’am,” he bows his head in apology.
Mercifully, you know your boss is as weak to cats as it appears Kuroo is as she begins to coo at Bean.
You can’t hide your grin as your boss, ever the consummate professional, uses baby talk to speak to a cat through the screen.
You’ve got to hand it to Kuroo too. He laughs at all the right places and you know that he’s easily one of Saito’s favourites, if not the favourite. Not that you can say any different. He’s your favourite too.
It isn’t too long before Saito realizes that her workers have been watching this exchange. You can see an instantaneous shift in her posture as she reverts to her role as national manager.
She clears her throat before calling your name and Kuroo’s again. “September is fast approaching which means that kids will hopefully start heading back to school in-person. I have put the two of you in charge of an initiative to make sure that this situation,” she gestures vaguely around her, “isn’t detrimental to the youth’s passion for volleyball.”
Kuroo: ;)
The notification pops up in the chat box as soon as the words leave Saito’s mouth. It’s just too bad he sent it to the whole group instead of directly to you.
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No One Lets Me Down Quite Like I Do
Word Count: 2.7k
Content Warning: alcohol, mentions of underage drinking, best friends to strangers to ???, kinda angsty at the end ngl, f!reader
He doesn’t quite know what the hell he’s doing here. He thinks he might be a bit of a masochist because then at least he would have a reason as to why he didn’t throw out that damn letter as soon as he saw that it was sent from his old high school.
Don’t get him wrong, his time at Aoba Johsai High might as well have been the best years of his life. He was on top of the world. He had friends that he saw nearly everyday and then some because of practice. His biggest ambitions at the time were to sneak one of Mattsun’s cream puffs without the curly-haired boy noticing and to somehow find a way to beat Iwa at arm wrestling—the first was a consistent success and the second not so much.
Now he counts himself lucky if he’s able to catch up with the boys once in a blue moon. He doesn’t fault them for it. They’ve all got busy lives. Matsukawa’s got his gig working at the funeral home. And sure, he might not understand the allure of it, but Issei seems happy enough. Oikawa, of course, was out making an even bigger name for himself in the global volleyball community. Then, there was Iwaizumi Hajime, 27, athletic trainer.
He was happy for his friends. Really. He was.
But it kinda sucked being Hanamaki Takahiro, 27, in-between jobs.
As if sensing the downward spiral that his thoughts had taken, a gentle hand on his elbow brings him out of his quiet contemplation.
“Hey, mind if I sit here?” you ask as a nervous smile graces your features.
He nods shakily and your smile brightens as you make yourself comfortable on the stool beside him.
God, when was the last time he saw you? It must have been at graduation.
He can still remember how you fit perfectly in his arms as he spun you around. He recalls how you shrieked in surprise but wrapped your arms tighter around him in response. You were both making promises with the best intentions to stay in touch. After all, life was taking you down separate paths but that didn’t mean you were going to stop being best friends.
He chuckles wryly at his past self’s naivety. Your texts and calls had stopped after that first year.
Your hand waves down the bartender as you order a drink.
“They must have splurged on this if there’s an open bar, huh.” His eyes follow the movement of your hands as they smooth down the skirt of your dress.
He thought he’d stored away his feelings for you in a box and thrown away the key. But those pesky emotions were rattling against the lock.
God. The years have done you good. It’s definitely not that he didn’t find you beautiful before. He thought you were the most gorgeous being in existence. And now he’s reminded of just how out of his reach you are.
But here you sit anyway with him of all people, and it’s enough to take his breath away.
He’s found himself lost in his thoughts again and it isn’t until you slide him a drink of his own that he breaks himself free from his own head.
His eyebrows raise at the clear liquid in front of him.
“Jeez, Makki. It’s not poison if that’s what you’re thinking,” you chide jokingly.
He makes a face before rolling his eyes good-naturedly and takes a long, drawn out sip. “Definitely not like the sake we would sneak from my dad’s cabinet,” he states.
Your face splits into a grin as you bring yourself closer to him. “I’m pretty sure he knew and watered it down.”
Hanamaki takes another small sip. “Oh, probably,” he agrees. “That didn’t stop us from having some pretty good times though.”
You giggle as you playfully swat at his chest. “Stop! I was never as bad as you.”
He takes the opportunity to grasp your hand against his. “Really?” he quirks an eyebrow. “I would wager you were worse than me.”
Your over exaggerated gasp makes him snort into his drink and for the first time this evening, he finds himself with a genuine smile on his face. There’s just something about you, he thinks.
“I resent that you know,” you say with a little conspiratorial grin of your own. After taking a long sip of your own drink, you ask the question that he’s been dreading since arriving. “So, how’ve you been, Makki?”
Unlike the others who have asked, he can tell you’re not just asking to make polite conversation and unlike others, he knows you’re not going to gloss over his answer to eventually segue on to how you’ve just gotten a promotion, married, had a kid, etc. He takes a look at your ring finger, just in case, and breathes out a sigh of relief when he notices that it’s bare.
In all your years of friendship, he knows you’ve never been anything but sincere. He can tell from your voice and how your eyes have not left his since you’ve taken the seat beside him that you’re honestly interested in knowing how life has treated him after high school.
He contemplates lying but even though it’s been ten years since you last saw each other, he knows that he’d be quickly called out.
So he settles for the truth instead. “Oh, you know. A little bit of this and that,” he replies easily, which technically isn’t a lie. The amount of jobs he’s held could fill up five pages on a resumé, not that he’d ever list them all out or could even remember all of them if he were to be honest. And just recently, he had put in his two weeks notice at the electronics store he’d worked at after hearing that his name had been tossed around for a promotion. Talk like that usually signaled it was time for him to move on.
You always had a way of seeing through him though and it seems like the ten years apart haven’t dulled your Hanamaki bullshit senses in any way, shape, or form. He fights the urge to shrink in on himself as you take him in.
“I didn’t ask about what you’ve been doing, Makki. I asked about how you’ve been,” you prod.
The smile on his face immediately drops. How was he going to explain that here he was closer to 30 than 17 and practically still as directionless as the day he entered Aoba Johsai High.
He gulps down his drink instead, fighting the urge to cough at the not-so-familiar burn of the sake as it slid down his throat.
You pat his back reassuringly. “You always were a bit of a lightweight.”
He frowns. Truth be told, he wasn’t much of a drinker. He only really drank with you in high school and that was just to help you satisfy your curiosity and to make sure that you were safe when drinking.
You wave down the bartender again and when he comes back he hands a bottle of water to Makki.
He supposes that he should feel embarrassed, however, he’s anything but as you uncap the bottle for him while your other hand rubs soothing circles onto his back.
“You know you can tell me anything right, Makki?” your gentle expression nearly makes him choke on the water.
He brings the bottle back down onto the counter with a louder thud than what he had intended. Before he can stop himself the words spill out. “It’s kinda hard to know that when we basically haven’t spoken since school ended.”
A silence follows and he makes the mistake of looking up at your face. Your jaw is clenched and your lips pinched desperately trying to hold in your own retort.
Another empty beat passes.
“I’m -” he says about to apologize, but you cut him off.
“No, you’re right,” you concede. “We fell off, didn’t we?”
He lowers his head and gives you a half-hearted smile. “Yeah,” he agrees. “What happened to us?”
You give him your own lopsided grimace. “Time, I suppose,” you answer. “I really should have done better at keeping in contact.”
He places his hand on your shoulder and squeezes in reassurance. “No, that was unfair of me. Communication is a two-way street. I could have made an effort too. I’m sorry..”
The smile you give him almost reaches your eyes. “Still, I am sorry.” He kicks himself at the slight quiver in your voice.
“Shit,” he breathes out as he runs a hand through his hair. “We’re just gonna go around in circles with the apologies all night, aren’t we?” he chuckles wryly.
You join in and he feels a warmth blossom in his chest at the sound of your polite laughter.
“Anyway, you asked me about how I was,” he says hoping to move on, but before he can, your right hand reaches out to grasp onto his wrist.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” God. You can probably feel his pulse quicken at the feel of your hand on his.
He nods. “I know but I want to.”
He tells you about college – how he graduated with a business degree and had to wear a suit everyday for two years at the firm whose offer he had accepted straight out of school.
You snicker at the thought of your best friend in a suit. It was almost too far-fetched to believe but he shares a picture on his phone which effectively shuts you up.
He was grimacing in the picture as his hands worked to loosen his tie. Despite the obvious discomfort in his face, you can’t help when your stare lingers at his form. You can feel his eyes on you so you hide your blush by taking another swig of your drink – at least you can blame your flush on the alcohol and not on the thought of how good he looked in his suit.
You cough into your elbow and gesture for him to go on.
He continues to tell you about his first job. Countless hours spent staring at a computer screen, sitting next to people whose names he didn’t bother to learn. He was just another number, but he stayed on because he thought that was the only option he had.
It wasn’t until he saw how the higher ups had treated a coworker of his that he had quit on the spot.
His coworker was just coming back from maternity leave and was given all of the work she had missed in that time span plus work that he knew for a fact his other male coworkers were slacking on.
He had never quite mastered the art of putting up and shutting up. A stray comment had slipped out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Obviously his bosses disagreed. It didn’t matter to Makki though as he simply said the two words that had since become a pattern in his career – “I quit.”
Your thumb continues to rub soothing circles on his wrist, something that he finds comfort in as he tells you that he’s become disillusioned with the corporate world since then. Nothing ever seemed to fit. There was no grand calling, no Ah-ha! moment to indicate that he was actually heading anywhere. Just one mindless job after the other.
“So yeah, that’s me,” he softly declares.
Your eyes suddenly shoot up to meet his and he struggles to hold your gaze. “You know what?” you start. “I think what you did was incredibly brave. I’m sure that your coworker appreciated it.”
He can’t help the dry laughter that escapes his throat. “I think the only thing I accomplished that day was making an ass of myself, but thanks.”
Your hands reach up to both of his cheeks. “No, you listen to me Hanamaki Takahiro,” you command.
His eyebrows raise. “This must be serious if you’re pulling out my full name.”
You shake your head and roll your eyes at his comment but shoot him a small grin nonetheless. “That was incredibly brave of you and that firm didn’t deserve you anyway.”
He finds himself at a loss for words. No one had ever validated his experiences before. Even his friends thought he was being too impulsive with his decisions. Reckless, they had said. But here you are, with your hands on both sides of his face, forcing him to start believing that maybe he was brave. Maybe he could be braver.
“Fuck that company, right?” he can smell the slight hint of alcohol on your breath as well as the citrusy fragrance that was so inherently you that it transported him back to driving around dimly lit Miyagi streets in his dad’s beat-up truck with you singing your heart out to Taylor Swift beside him.
“Fuck that company,” he agrees before deciding to say fuck it himself as his hand reaches out to tilt your jaw up towards him.
“May I?” his question comes out in a whisper just barely loud enough to hear over the sound of conversation around you.
“Makki!”
He nearly curses out loud as a familiar voice calls out his name and then yours. You nearly jump back at the interruption while Makki has to restrain himself from punching his other best friend.
Being friends with Matsukawa Issei for as long as he has, Makki knows that Mattsun never had good timing and it seems that he still doesn’t as he haphazardly throws both arms around the two of you.
“My best buds!” he exclaims and Makki can immediately tell that Issei stayed true to his word and had downed a few beers before attending the reunion.
You giggle at Mattsun’s drunken antics obviously not privy to the frustration building inside of Makki. He had waited over a decade to even have a chance as good as that one with you.
He bites the inside of his cheek and counts to ten in his head.
“Issei, could I just talk to her in private please?” he asks as politely as he can muster.
Mattsun’s eyes go from you to Makki before his mouth opens into a wide O.
“Of course! Of course!” he exclaims. “Anything for my best bud and my baby.”
You laugh as the other man shoots finger guns at the two of you.
My baby.
Mattsun’s words replay in his head and Maki can feel the fire of emotions he had locked inside that box roar in anguish before being promptly extinguished.
He clears his throat hoping to get a better handle on himself.
“You and Issei?” he steels himself for your response.
Even in the low light, he can’t ignore the dusting of red that coats your cheeks at the mention of the other man’s name.
Your nod is almost imperceptible. “Yeah. I moved back to Miyagi a couple of months ago and we’ve just... I dunno. Clicked.”
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He was sure that the universe had made it a habit to knock him down just when he felt like he was slowly making his way back up.
“I hope he’s making you happy.”
The way you flush and giggle tells him everything he needs to know.
He moves to stand but your hand is on his again.
“Hey,” your eyes are on his again but this time he avoids them. “I thought there might have been something you wanted to tell me?”
He shakes his head forcing himself to put on an air of indifference. His hand lays atop yours and for a second, you derive comfort from his warmth, but that feeling stops as quickly as it begins as he gently moves your hand back to your side.
“It’s not important anymore.” You don’t miss the way the smile he has on isn't reflected in his eyes.
“Are you sure?” you ask.
He nods, looking everywhere but at you. “Of course. And hey,” he calls your name. “I wish you and Mattsun all the happiness. We’ll keep in touch this time, yeah?”
He walks away before you can reply.
A heavy arm slings itself over your shoulder and soon you are engulfed by Mattsun’s presence.
“Hey, what did Makki wanna tell you?” he pulls you in closer and you feel yourself melt as he places his head atop yours.
“Nothing important,” you reply and tilt your head up to plant a soft kiss on your boyfriend’s jaw.
Taglist: @snowcoveredkiss @sweetkoshi
(me being a hanamaki simp is all Kat’s fault 😌)
#hanamaki takahiro#matsukawa issei#hanamaki x reader#matsukawa x reader#haikyuu#fluff#angst#hanamaki x y/n#matsukawa x y/n#mattsun#hazel.writes#hanamaki#matsukawa
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Spicy Calendar
Continuation from this post
Kuroo gets some odd looks when he proposes the idea to his bosses. With the recent success of the all-star game though, they take the chance on him. After all, he hasn’t steered them wrong yet. So he sets off with his backpack and starts to recruit players for the calendar.
He figures he should start local this time so he heads off to find Bokuto. Kuroo doesn’t even get the chance to explain the concept to him before his bro excitedly agrees. Miya Atsumu, who has an unfortunate habit of listening into conversations, also pipes up with his assent. Atsumu then does what Atsumu does best, and begins to run his mouth. He bets that his spread would be the most popular, which gets the attention of his former teammate, Suna, who agrees to join just to prove the bottle blonde wrong. Komori, being Suna’s current teammate, also joins citing that he couldn’t pass up the chance to join forces with Suna and mess with the blonde setter.
And when it comes time to convince Kageyama, it doesn’t take a lot of effort on Kuroo’s part as the younger man is already well aware of his status as a sexy setter. Kageyama being part of the calendar also means that Hinata calls Kuroo up and practically begs for a spot. Ninja Shoyo is going to be a big sell to the international community.
Kageyama also talks to Ushijima about what a great opportunity the calendar is to attract fans to the game. The stoic man sees his point and also agrees to pose for a picture.
Of course, Ushijima’s participation gets back to Oikawa who then proceeds to leave a lengthy voicemail for Kuroo - How dare he ask Ushiwaka? Why hadn’t he been asked first? Was Kuroo not aware of the amount of fans he had? It was almost enough to make Kuroo wonder if having Oikawa in the calendar would be worth it. In the end, he couldn’t deny the amount of interest Oikawa would draw so he agrees to let the brunette join.
Getting 8 players was good, but obviously not enough to fill a calendar. So Kuroo decides that the last four slots would be decided through a fan vote with the #1 pick being the choice for December.
It is now a week later and the fans have made their voice heard. Kuroo keeps the results a secret from the players. He cackles as he looks at who won knowing that at least one of the participants would be very unhappy. He wasn’t going to miss that reaction and so he decides to arrange a Zoom meeting with the players and makes them promise not to open the calendar until they’re all in the call.
It isn’t until a month later that the boys receive their calendars in the mail.
September goes to Suna whose piercing stare and expertly done eyeliner captures the gaze of many. Bokuto gets October because the masses are obviously enthralled with his muscles (his ass!). And to the surprise of even the man himself, Komori gets November. His wide grin and even thicker thighs captivates the hearts and likely also the underwear of many voters.
Then there comes the man-of-the-month for December.
“Are ya fucking jokin’ me?” Miya Atsumu screeches because there on the cover is his twin brother.
Osamu’s wearing an apron. He’s only wearing an apron. It’s so small that his nipples are peeking out and it only falls to his upper thigh. In his right hand, he brandishes a sharp knife as he holds a much sharper grin on his face.
“Damn Miya!” Oikawa exclaims in awe at the picture. “He could devour me any day.”
Ushijima nods his approval. “I agree.”
“Myaa-sam looks so hot!” Bokuto shouts excitedly.
Atsumu groans as he buries his head in his hands. “Stop talkin’ bout my brother like that!” And then he pouts at Kuroo. “Samu ain’t even an active player anymore. What the hell’s up with that?”
Kuroo chuckles. “The fans wrote him in and you know I only do what’s best for the sport.”
#kuroo#bokuto#miya atsumu#kageyama#suna#hinata#komori#ushijima#oikawa#haikyuu#osamu#this really got away from me#...whoops 😝#hazel.writes
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Hello hazel (can I call you hazel?) Is it too late to participate in your lyric ask game? If not, can I please request one?
Cherry Blossom by Kacey Musgraves/Honey by Derivakat/Daydreaming by Chris Wallace
futakuchi knows he can run his mouth better than most people. what he doesn't know is how easily you're able to throw those same barbs right back at him. at first it confuses him - you confuse him. but he soon finds himself looking forward to trading words with you, playful conversations that turns into sharing laughs and inside jokes. before he knows it, he's absolutely enchanted by you.
STATUS: leaving this indefinitely OPEN.
#thank you for participating!!!#and of course you can call me hazel!#i hope you enjoy this#lyric ask game#hazel.writes#haikyuu#futakuchi x reader#futakuchi kenji
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A Love Like This
Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader
You walk with your fingers interlaced with your boyfriend’s. He has been quieter than usual since leaving the restaurant get-together with his former high school teammates. Despite being a normally stoic man, you could tell that this time, there was something different about his silence.
You squeeze his hand and, after a beat passes without him squeezing back, you call his name.
“Sorry sweetheart,” Ushjima brings your interlocked hands up to his lips for a soft kiss. “I was lost in thought.”
You give him a nervous smile. “Penny for your thoughts, then?”
He pauses. “I would hope they’re worth more than that.”
You chuckle and now it’s your turn to place a small kiss on the back of his hand. “You know what I mean.”
He loosens his hold on your hand as he turns to face you. “You said you love my friends.”
He leaves his statement hanging causing you to furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “Of course I do. They're my friends too. I’ve been friends with most of them since high school. You know they say most friendships only last seven years, so I’m glad we’ve all managed to stay friends in the decade since then.”
He hums in acknowledgement of your response.
You take his other hand so that now you’re holding both of them. “What brought this on Toshi?”
Despite the only source of lighting being from half-shuttered store windows, you can spot the dusting of colour on Ushijima’s cheeks.
“We’ve been friends for longer than a decade and dating for about six months, correct?” You nod not knowing where he was going with this.
“Do you love me too?”
You can feel yourself flush from the top of your head to your toes. You sputter. “You can’t just ask that!”
His thumbs begin to rub circles on the palms of your hands. “Why not?”
You blink at him. “Well, you know, it’s just supposed to come organically. Like one half of the couple is supposed to say ‘I love you’ and then the other half is supposed to say it back if it’s reciprocated I guess...” you trail off as your boyfriend brings a hand to cup your cheek. You automatically tilt your head up to look at him.
More than a decade of friendship with this man and six months of dating, and he still manages to surprise you. “I love you,” he breathes.
The sincerity in his eyes scares you. “Really?” you whisper.
“I do. I love you,” his voice grows in strength. “I’ve loved you for some time now and you don’t have to say it back. I only need you to know that I do. I love you.”
You giggle. Standing on your tiptoes, you place a peck on his lips. “I love you too.”
His arms encircle your waist as he lifts you a couple of inches off of the ground. Your surprised squeal is cut short as his lips meet yours in a gentle kiss, a promise of the truth behind his confession.
Settling you on the ground once more, his fingers find the belt loops on your pants.
“You don’t love any of our friends like this, do you?”
You give him a wide grin. “You’re the only one I love like this Toshi.”
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Put A Ring On It
Sure, Osamu’s happy for his brother. He’s finally got the partner of his dreams. And the cherry on top of it all is the ring that Atsumu’s partner has on their finger. It’s a beautiful speckled diamond that their grandmother had passed down to their mother. The only problem being that Osamu wanted to propose to you, his own partner, with that ring.
~800 words. Miya Osamu x reader. Fluff
A/N: Let it be known to all that I am a sucker for (1) onigiri man.
Osamu is livid. Of course, he still liked the Instagram post. He is still a good brother after all, unlike that good-for-nothing asshole who happened to share the same face as him.
Ignoring your amused look, he punches in his brother’s number on his phone.
“Samu!” his brother greets jovially.
“Atsumu,” he hisses and then takes a breath in an attempt to calm himself. It doesn’t work.
“Wanna explain to me why the ever loving fuck, ya got Obachan’s ring on your fiancée’s finger?”
Your eyebrows raise and most of the amusement you felt just moments before vanishes. You know that tone. You’ve only ever heard your boyfriend use that same tone when he was berating a creep who was making one of the cashiers at Onigiri Miya uncomfortable.
Your boyfriend is absolutely pissed.
Seconds pass and you wince as the volume from both Osamu’s phone and Osamu himself sharply increases. You know that pretty soon this exchange will devolve into a screaming match and decide to move off the couch to calm your boyfriend down.
You reach for him and wrap your arms around his back. You can feel his tense muscles relax just a smidge, but the irritated look on his face remains. Deciding to take matters into your own hands, you begin to leave light kisses along the side of his neck. “Osamu,” you mumble as you reach for the phone in his hand.
His eyes flicker to you and you can see his expression soften. However, before you can claim your victory, you hear Atsumu’s voice on the other end of the call.
“Ain’t ya happy for me, ya scrub?!”
Osamu sighs and begins to rub at his forehead in frustration. “Of course I am, ya absolute dumbass!”
“Then, what’s your goddamn problem?” his brother screams.
“I wanted to use that ring to propose to Y/N!” your boyfriend roars in response and you freeze.
His eyes nearly bulge out of their socket as the realization of what he’s just said hits him like a freight truck. You would laugh if all air hadn’t also been knocked out of you.
Atsumu continues to rage on the other end of the call, but even his loudest yells aren’t heard as you and Osamu stare at each other.
You take the phone from him and hang up on Atsumu. You clear your throat. God, when did your mouth get so dry?
“You want to propose to me?” you ask.
Osamu’s mouth opens then closes. He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck and his eyes fail to meet yours.
“If I do, what would you say?” he whispers.
You wring your hands together in an attempt to control yourself, but the grin is already there threatening to split your face.
“Why don’t you find out?” Your hand reaches up to caress his cheek and he automatically leans his head against it.
He says your name softly and places a soft kiss on the palm of your hand. His eyes find yours and you’re overwhelmed.
“I want to marry you, Y/N. Would you maybe want to marry me too?”
You launch yourself into his arms and bury your head into his shoulder.
“Maybe,” you whisper into his ear.
He almost drops you.
“Maybe?” he repeats with his eyes wide.
You place your pointer finger and thumb on your chin and pose as if you’re thinking things through. “I don’t know, Samu. I mean, you didn’t even get down on one knee. Not to mention, I don’t see a ring,” you tease.
He rolls his eyes at you good-naturedly.
“Well, maybe I don’t want to marry you anymore,” he grumbles.
You scoff and playfully hit his broad chest. He clutches his heart as if he’s been wounded.
“Oh, now, I definitely don’t want to marry you anymore,” he states.
“Samu!” you whine.
He chuckles. “You know I’m kidding darling,” he says as he wraps you back in his arms.
You hum contentedly. “And you know that you could propose to me with a ring pop and I’d say yes, right?”
He pulls away from you and you whine, this time, at the loss of contact. He shoots you a wink as he moves to grab his coat off of the rack. You stare, wondering what had gotten into him but he just gestures for you to follow.
“Where are we headed?” you ask as he locks the apartment door.
“The konbini downstairs,” he replies casually.
This makes you abruptly stop in your steps. “What the fuck? I thought you were proposing?” you can’t help the words that fall out in your confusion.
He turns to you and lightly flicks your forehead. “I’ll still be doing that, dummy.”
#miya osamu x reader#miya osamu x y/n#osamu#haikyuu#miya atsumu has no idea what he did to deserve being yelled at#it happens though#hazel.writes
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Terms of Endearment w./ Miya Osamu
You hardly ever hear your name called by your boyfriend. Instead, Osamu cycles through terms of endearment like he’s trying out different spice measurements for his recipes.
He’ll call you the generic terms like sweetie, sweetheart, honey, love. And your favourite is when he calls you darling, in that low husky tone that gets your insides all aflutter.
He doesn’t stop there though.
When he’s feeling silly (read: hungry), that’s when this man really pulls out all of the stops.
“How are you doing today my honey bunches of oats?”
Or
“Looking good my sweet slice of cherry pie.”
Those examples aren’t even as bad as this menace can get.
You still remember how you came home from the beach, less tan and more sunburnt than you intended to (note to self, the beach is not an ideal location for a nap), and Samu greets you at the door with a, “You look beautiful like my own toasted coconut macaroon.”
You roll your eyes good-naturedly because you’re a good partner and you know that you don’t mind as long as he calls you his.
#miya osamu#osamu#he has a chokehold on me#and can actually choke me lol#miya osamu x reader#haikyuu#drabble#hazel.writes
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Road Trip Playlist
Ft. Suna Rintarou x Reader
fluff, language, discourse about Mama Miya being a MILF because have you seen the Miya twins? they were blessed with good genetics
2.9k words
It didn’t take much convincing for you to agree to drive back home to Hyogo with the one and only Suna Rintarou. All he had to do was ask and you immediately texted your confirmation and began packing your bags. After all, what’s better than being stuck in a car with the boy you’ve had a crush on since first year in high school? Now you’ve finally got your chance to impress him and there’s no better way to do so than by creating the best road trip playlist to set the soundtrack for your trip and make it truly unforgettable.
On a good day with the traffic on your side, it only takes about 6 hours to drive from Nagano to Hyogo. Today, even though it was only hour 1.5 out of 6, you’ve felt like you’ve already been driving for ages.
You try to stretch out in the driver’s seat but feel yet another coil dig uncomfortably into your shoulder blade. You curse your past self who had eagerly jumped at the chance of driving with Suna. If you had only known that he was still driving his janky hand-me-down minivan, you might have taken more time to think the offer through. But, let’s face it, you would have still agreed to it anyway. When it comes to Suna Rintarou, you are hopeless.
An hour and forty-five minutes into this road trip with your ass throbbing from his uncomfortable seat and your hair already greasy with sweat because, of course, his car doesn’t have a functioning A/C, and that fact of life still hasn’t changed. You are still and have resigned yourself to being, an absolute lifetime simp for Suna Rintarou. If anything, you would say that you left behind what was remaining of your sanity at the last rest stop as you've only had the playlist that you so very carefully curated and a sleeping Suna Rintarou to keep you company.
The bastard (unfortunately affectionate) had picked you up at the agreed-upon time of 5’o-clock in the morning, a necessity, he had claimed, because the twins and Ginjima had planned to meet for lunch. Like the love sick fool you are, you didn’t mind the early wake-up call. You greeted him with a smile far too bright for 5am and a cup of black coffee just the way he liked it. Suna had only grunted, grabbed a neck pillow from the back seat and shuffled over to the passenger side before promptly falling asleep. And he had been asleep ever since.
To put it simply, the quality time you had envisioned on having with your longtime crush wasn’t panning out. Then, to make matters even worse, the songs on the playlist you had meticulously selected and stressed over were driving you mad. You had recruited Motoya who very helpfully sent you a link to Suna’s Spotify profile. There was only one playlist made public which the man had named 😏. You ran with it, making sure to add all of the songs on that playlist along with Spotify’s obviously expert recommendations.
You wouldn’t even call the noise coming out of the car speakers music. If you were being less than polite, the songs were absolute garbage at their best and migraine-inducing at their worst. There aren’t many things that could make you question your devotion towards the man, but the finding that Suna Rintarou has a shit taste in music had understandably made you pause.
Speaking of Suna, you spare a glance at the sleeping man. Fuck it. The throbbing in your head was now going in time with the bass. Enough is enough. You check your blind spots before pulling over to the side of the road.
Your fingers immediately delete the playlist and land on your familiar, tried and true road trip playlist. Your playlist, affectionately named Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss, was chock full of ABBA, Taylor Swift, Beyoncé , Madonna, Lady Gaga, and Britney Spears. All songs that would keep you awake enough to drive because it honestly did not look like Suna was going to be waking up anytime soon.
As the trumpets begin to blare and Jay-Z introduces the queen herself, Beyoncé, you can feel your headache start to lift.
Before you can pull back onto the road, Suna’s arm stretches out to the volume knob. You squeak in surprise but Suna continues undisturbed as he cranks up the volume.
He yawns. “Crazy in love?” You nod in awe at the gravelly tone of his just-woken-up voice.
You turn to face him and you can see a small smile playing at the edge of his lips.
“I was wondering when you were gonna turn the other shit off.”
Your eyebrows nearly climb to the top of your forehead. “Hold on a second. ‘Shit?’ I literally made that playlist for you. Toya sent me a link to your Spotify profile and everything," you say trying to defend yourself.
The man has the audacity to chuckle. “The only playlist I’ve got on there was made to fuck with Tsumu. I just listen to whatever Spotify makes for me."
You sigh in relief. “So much makes sense now. I was beginning to think you just had a trash taste in music.”
At this, Suna just smirks as he catches your eyes. “I’ll have you know that my taste is impeccable.”
You fight in vain to control the flush that creeps up your cheeks as his eyes lazily take in your features. For the sake of your dignity, it would have probably been better if the man had just slept through the whole trip.
Suna chuckles at your response before leaning over to unbuckle you and then himself. “My turn to drive!”
It is now hour 2.5 of 6 and your knuckles have nearly turned white with the sheer force of your grip on his door handle.
Suna Rintarou drives like an absolute madman. He goes 140 km/hr in an 80 km/hr zone. He seems to think that using the turn indicators are optional as he weaves in and out of traffic like a snake slithering through grass. Honestly, you’re shocked that he hasn’t been pulled over and even more shaken when he exits off of the highway.
“Rin, I don’t think this is the right way,” you say as Google reconfigures the route.
The man besides you simply nods. “You know what they say, gotta stop and smell the roses,” he says as he pulls into a gas station.
“I think they meant actual roses and not the stench of gasoline at 8am in the morning,” you respond.
“Po-tay-to, po-tah-to,” he replies as he smoothly slides out of the driver’s seat.
You wait for him to fill up the car and your eyes nearly bug out of your head as you spot the cost.
“Rin, I’ll get the next fill-up,” you tell him as he steps in.
He shakes his head. “No need. This little lady’s a bit of a gas guzzler, anyway.”
You and your wallet breathe a little easier at his casual dismissal of your offer. He had paid almost 5000 yen and you had only driven around 150 kilometres. There was no doubt that you were grateful that at least one of you could afford to drive in this economy.
Despite your gratitude, you can’t help but ask him the question that had been burning in your mind since noticing that he was still driving the same car from his teenage years.
“Yeah, speaking of, why are you still driving this car? It’s likely 20-plus years old with non-functioning air conditioning, roll-up windows, terrible fuel efficiency, and a check engine light that’s been on since your dad passed it down to you. Plus, you’re getting paid a professional athlete’s salary. Don’t you want to upgrade?”
In response, Suna pats the steering wheel almost lovingly. “Don’t you listen to her,” he coos to his car. “You still run fine.”
You shake your head in amusement. “So sentimental value then?”
He turns to look at you. “Lots of good memories in this car,” he smirks and then gestures with his head to the backseat.
You swat him in the chest. “I definitely did not need that visual!”
He throws his head back and cackles causing you to lightly shove him back.
“It’s a pretty good visual though isn’t it?” he teases. “But get your head out of the gutter because that wasn’t what I was talking about.” You flush once again.
“See that dark stain over there?” he points out a spot on the middle seat.
You nod. How could you miss it?
“That was when I dared Samu to stick thirty Cheetos in his mouth.”
You grimace. People thought Osamu was the smarter twin but in all actuality, you know that both twins share the same singular brain cell. “So he threw up?”
Suna laughs again and you find yourself even more enamoured with the man. “Not quite.” He hands you his phone and starts the car once more.
You look at him in confusion. “Does this have face recognition?” you ask as you point the phone towards Suna.
“Nah, the pin’s your birthday, month and date,” he replies casually as if he was talking about the weather and not the fact that he uses your birthday as his phone’s password.
“My birthday?” you can’t help but ask to clarify.
“Yeah. That way I never forget,” he states and you can see a slight dusting of red on his cheeks. You type in your birthday and, true to his word, his phone does open up.
He clears his throat. “Anyway, just go onto my iCloud. If you click on the album titled ‘Twins’ and type in ‘cheetos’ the picture should pop up.”
You follow his directions and a picture of Osamu pops up. His cheeks are bulging and you can see a smear of cheese around his jaw and even his forehead. You check the date on the picture. “This was recent?” you nearly shriek.
He grins at you. “Yup. Just last month.”
“Are you sure you’re really 26?” you tease.
“Hey, just because I’m an adult now doesn’t mean I gotta stop having fun at the expense of my friends,” he smirks. “Anyway, the thing is that it wasn’t Samu who threw up but Tsumu. He took one look at Samu with the cheese drool coming out of his mouth and lost his lunch on that seat right there.”
You grimace. “Okay. I definitely did not need that visual.”
It was now hour 4 out of 5 and Suna had refused to let you take the wheel. You and him had spent the previous hours talking about anything and everything. Despite being friends and living in the same city, with both of your schedules, it was still difficult to spend as much time as you’d like together.
Suna had spent the last hour regaling you with tales about Toya’s frequent pranks on his cousin Sakusa, when the familiar opening of Mamma Mia by ABBA began to play.
He nearly misses the exit as he excitedly gestures for you turn the volume up.
“I haven’t heard this song in ages!” he exclaims.
Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. Sure, listening to ABBA is akin to a religious experience, but you never pegged Suna as the type of guy to listen to the 70s Swedish band.
He seems to sense your confusion as he grins at you. “Have you seen Mama Miya?”
Your confusion grows. “The movie with Meryl Streep and Amanda Seyfried?”
He shakes his head. “No, no. I mean Mama Miya, like the twins’ mom.”
You nod your head slowly and wonder what he’s trying to get at.
“Well, back in high school a bunch of the guys had huge crushes on her,” he starts and you think back to the lovely matriarch of the Miya family. It was no wonder that the twins both turned out to be objectively attractive as their mother was drop-dead gorgeous, as well as smart and kind to boot.
It all clicks and you begin to nod your head in understanding. “Oh! And Mamma Mia for Mama Miya. I get it now.”
He sends another large grin your way and you’ve come to realize the danger of his grins to your overall health because every time he sends one your way, you could swear that your heart stops pumping.
“Okay, so go on my phone. And type in ‘Mama Miya,” he directs to you.
You turn to face Suna. “Rin, I swear to the Gods above that if you have an album full of stalker shots of Ms. Miya, I’m going to beat you up and then have the twins beat you up.”
He raises a hand off of the steering wheel. “No! Oh my God. Nothing like that. Although, I wish,” he sighs. “Mama Miya is a certified MILF. Why do you think I’m friends with the Miya twins?”
Despite yourself, you let loose a loud guffaw. “Wait ‘til I tell them you said that.”
He smirks. “They already know. Like I said, a lot of the guys had a crush on her. I’m pretty sure even Kita-san was attracted to Ms. Miya.”
You shake your head in amusement before tapping on his phone and finding the right album. To your relief, it just looks like a bunch of pictures of the team at the Miya’s house.
“Alright, I found the album. What next?” you ask.
“There should only be one video on there,” he replies.
Quickly, you find a three-and-a-half-minute long video with Aran as the thumbnail. “I’m kinda scared,” you admit.
He grins again. “Just press it,” he says as he turns the volume on the radio down.
The opening notes of Mamma Mia are heard through his phone as a montage of pictures of the twins with their mom begins to play.
Suna must notice the questioning expression on his face because he explains, “Samu and Tsumu thought this video was a good idea for a Mother’s Day present.”
The video montage of sweet pictures of the twins and Mama Miya continues on until the chorus. Then the video pans to the whole of the Inarizaki volleyball team as they begin to sing along to the song.
“No fucking way!” you nearly choke on air.
Beside you, Suna giggles, actually giggles, as he hears the sound of his and his teammate’s off-key singing.
“They thought this was a good idea for a present?”
He simply shrugs his shoulders between giggles. “Man, who knows what’s going on in the twins’ heads?”
You were beginning to recognize the street signs and knew that there would only be 10 minutes until you reached your parents’ house.
“So...” you start and let the word taper off into the air.
“So,” he echoes.
“I don’t wanna jinx anything, but I’m kinda surprised that I’m making it home in one piece,” you joke before knocking on the car console.
A corner of his mouth stretches up. “And you had the nerve to doubt that I could get you there.”
You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “I’d never doubt you, but I will always doubt this car,” you promise him.
He quickly sticks his tongue out at you. “Don’t listen to the mean pretty lady,” he whispers to the steering wheel.
Your heart rate speeds up at the compliment but before you can question it, Suna is already pulling into your driveway.
“Well, you know where to find me,” you trail off as you unbuckle your seat belt.
Before you can step out of the car, Suna’s arm rests lightly on your elbow. His eyes meet yours. “I had fun during the drive,” he tells you with a smile.
You know for a fact that you must look delighted because Suna’s smile widens into a broad grin.
You notice that he has started to bounce his right leg – a tic you know that he only does when he’s feeling particularly nervous.
“I had fun too,” you tell him sincerely.
He takes a breath. “How about we actually meet up tomorrow at that café you mentioned earlier on?”
“The cat café that just opened?” you ask to which he nods quietly.
He seems to take your silence as a bad omen as his hand reaches out to scratch the back of his neck. “Listen, if you don’t want to, can you just please forget I asked? This is kinda embarrassing.”
Your hands immediately reach out to his. “Oh my God! No!” your eyes widen at the implication. “I mean, of course! I’d love to go with you!”
He squeezes your hands. “Really?” his voice is almost breathless.
“It’ll be a date,” you respond before the words fully hit you. “Uhm,” you stutter. “Like a friendly date?”
He shakes his head profusely. “No. I want it to be a date. Like an actual date.”
You nod your head enthusiastically. “I do! I want it to be an actual date too.”
You have never seen Suna Rintarou smile wider than he’s smiling now, not even when his team beat Tsumu’s in last year’s playoffs.
He clears his throat as he struggles to regain his composure, but the smile remains. “Cool, cool, cool,” he states as his voice changes from a higher to a lower pitch before finally settling at his normal register. “I’ll pick you up at 2pm tomorrow?”
“You’ve done enough driving Rin. I’ll drop my car off at yours and we can walk together, if that works for you?” you ask.
In response, he takes out his phone and quickly clicks on the camera app. “I’m just going to take a selfie to commemorate the moment you agreed to our first date, if that’s okay with you? It’ll be something to look back on for our future anniversaries.”
You laugh but nonetheless agree before placing your face beside Suna’s. Both of you are cheesing at the camera with smiles so wide that they’re starting to hurt.
After the picture is taken and you’ve gotten your bags out of his car, you knock on the window at his side.
“Hey Rin?”
He manually turns the window down using the handle. “Yeah, sweetheart?”
“Aren’t you allergic to cats?”
Tag List: @snowcoveredkiss (I finally wrote for one of your ‘tarous!)
#suna rintarou#suna#suna rintarou x reader#it's not even a miya twins fic but here i am slandering them because i am a clown#hazel.writes#miya atsumu#miya osamu
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