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chimielie · 19 days

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yeah, you might want me to drop dead (but i don't even care)

summary: Atsumu x F!Reader. atsumu would categorize your relationship like this: he thinks you're hot when you're angry. you would categorize your relationship with atsumu like this: he had woken up one day and decided to drive you out of your fucking mind insane.

word count: 2k

cw: miya atsumu's degradation kink (it's still sfw he's just not subtle), suggestive at the end

a/n: another resurrected fic from the drafts. walk him like a dog, bitch, walk him like a dog

Miya Atsumu was a player known for his thirst for blood. Like his brother, who termed the all-consuming need to dominate their opponent hunger, he relished in complete fucking annihilation. He was hardly soft off the court, too: few of his peers could withstand his cutting humor, his teammates couldn’t understand how he hadn’t scared off his fan club, and he had crushed a few hearts beneath his heel in his time.

He’d met his match in the natural enemy of heartbreakers: his university’s resident maneater.

“Hey!” Atsumu calls your name, lengthening his stride to catch up to you. You grimace—he can barely see your side profile now, but oh, you’re slowing down so he can catch up. Unusually considerate.

Oh, no, there’s just a clog in the artery of the crowded hallway, halting your escape.

“Hi,” he sing-songs, stretching the word out several extra syllables.

“Good morning, Atsumu,” you say tightly, drawing up your shoulders so your arm won’t brush his bicep in the limited space. “I was hoping you’d died, since you weren’t in lecture this morning. Better yet, maybe someone buried you alive last night and you hadn’t dug your way out yet.”

“You went with the option that doesn’t kill me! You care,” he says happily, and takes a moment to bask in it. “I was actually at a volleyball game, you should come to one sometime, I’m pretty good at it—”

“I’d rather walk in traffic, ‘Tsumu,” you shoot him a wide smile that makes his knees feel weak and wobbly and shove your way straight through the crowd of people, leaving only an uncaring ‘Scuse me! in your wake.

A lot of people would categorize your relationship with Atsumu as complicated. Atsumu is not one of those people.

Atsumu would categorize your relationship like this: many moons ago, you and he had been in a few of the same classes and shared some mutual friends—mere acquaintances. He hadn’t known you very well. In fact, he’d thought you were cute, which he now knows you aren’t. A few minor catastrophes he wasn’t privy to later, you had come to verbal blows with some loser in the middle of the quad. You’d later found it rather embarrassing. Watching you eviscerate him, though, Atsumu had experienced a fear like never before. If he was bloodthirsty, you bathed in ichor.

He would always remember the look on your face as you dealt the final blow and turned away, walking with a straight back right toward him.

Atsumu, who had never seen anything quite like the look of controlled rage on your face as you took that man apart. Who wasn’t sure why the sound of you doing your damnedest to instigate a fight made him shiver despite being all too warm inside. Who was looking up at you from his seat like a puppy, desperate to see you don your war paint again.

You walked past him, because of course you did. You weren’t pulled by the same magnetic force he was, focused on him like he was suddenly fixated on you. You were barely acquainted with him and obviously going to your friends for moral support and ice cream and whatever it was people did after one of them basically tarred and feathered someone in the town square. He was merely a bystander along the path you strode.

Of course, the very action of totally ignoring his existence cinched it: he was hooked.

You would categorize your relationship with Atsumu like this: he had woken up one day and decided to drive you out of your fucking mind insane.

You’d tried to ignore him. He was persistent, though, and he just pushed and pushed and pushed until he crossed the line. It was exhausting.

Except that you kind of loved fighting with him.

You couldn’t help the adrenaline rush it gave you, the way he seemed to light a fire inside you no one else could and keep it burning hot. It was almost like a release to debate him, the way some people boxed or listened to heavy metal to destress. The feeling of victory never failed to put a sparkle in your eye and a cocky smirk on your lips; sometimes, you felt like he was stepping back and letting you win.

This continued in perfectly pleasant vicious and sometimes bloody antagonism for the course of forever until a few months ago, when Atsumu had begun the new and inimitable torture of flirting with you. It was horrible and it was weird and you had no idea what kind of mind game he was playing, but you certainly intended to find out.

Atsumu, for his part, had recently realized that he likes it when you smile so much more than when you scowl. He likes it when you flutter your lashes instead of staring flatly into his soul, hoping to yank it out and set it aflame. He likes it when you say nice things to him, which has only happened once, but was very nearly a second sexual awakening and thus monumental.

He does not like it when other men flirt with you.

“Your pencil is broken,” Osamu notes, glancing down at his brother’s clenched fist. “You’ll get splinters.”

“What? Oh,” says Atsumu distractedly. “Yeah, I’ll do it later.”

Your laugh rings across the library, the warm glow of a fireplace instead of the burning fires of hell you share with Atsumu. His grip slackens, and his twin takes the opportunity to prise the pulverized writing utensil out of his hand. This kindness goes unnoticed as the guy, that’s how Atsumu’s thinking the word in his mind, low and mocking, guy, says something to you that makes him instinctively kick Osamu in the shin.

“Ow! Douchebag!”

“Sorry, reflex,” Atsumu apologizes.

“Do you want to go with me?” Asks the dickhead you’re talking to.

“To ice cream? Sure,” you reply, and you don’t even sound like you’re being sarcastic. What the fuck? There’s a long pause while the jagoff scuffs his shoe against the floor, a red flush coming over his face while you stare slightly past him with your trademark stare. But your lips are slightly turned up.

The expression haunts Atsumu on his walk back. Your smile was so pretty, sweet and soft. You never smile at him except mockingly.

“At the risk of sounding like I care,” Suna says. “Are you okay?”

“If I killed someone, would you help me get rid of the body?” Atsumu says, staring straight ahead.

“No,” Osamu says, “he’s finding out about human emotions and he’s coping very badly.”

Atsumu is ignoring you. As quickly as his interest (his desire to piss you off) had flared up, it had disappeared seemingly overnight, which was fine for you. It was great! You had booted the most annoying man in the world out of your life and replaced him with a perfectly nice guy. Your life was coming up roses.

Except it was driving you insane. You had your phone out, held an inch below your desk, leaving the perfectly nice guy (what was his name? You hadn’t saved it in your contacts and you weren’t sure why) on read as you stared across the room at the faux-blond.

He was chattering to another boy who looked bemused and patient; probably another volleyball player. You were half-convinced this was part two of his ploy to get under your skin; he was playing the unpredictable game.

As you try to bore a hole in his brain with your eyes, you see him glance back at you for a second, just a second, and that’s it. You slam your palms down on the desk, shooting up from your seat, trying not to make eye contact when a few other students turn and look at you because of the noise. He still won’t look directly at you as you make your way to his seat.

“I just remembered I have to leave,” says Atsumu’s friend—Aran, not that you care what his friends are called—picking up his bag. “I have to go be anywhere else right now.”

“What,” Atsumu whines as he books it away from the two of you. “Oh. It’s you.”

“Yeah,” you snap, folding your arms in front of your chest. You’re not sure why you’re so angry, just at the look of his melting chocolate eyes and hunched shoulders and pouty lips. Ugh. He’s the worst. “You’re avoiding me. Why.” The question sounds more like a sentence or maybe a threat.

“I’m not doing that,” he defends weakly. “Maybe I just got tired of looking at your face.”

“My face is fucking precious, okay,” you argue, “you should want to look at it all the time. Idiot. What’s wrong with you?”

“I do—I mean, what? What’s wrong with you?” He returns, and there’s the familiar snap and sting that you like so much. “You don’t even like it when I talk to you—”

“I don’t!”

“So why are you mad now that I’m not?”

“Because—” You struggle for reasoning. You can’t find it. Something strange and huge is crawling its way up your throat.

“Because, uh, um,” he mocks you, and you almost sock him. “Make up your mind! I was trying to be nice to you, even though it’s fucking boring!”

“I don’t want you to be nice to me!” You shout, and then curl over, your face nearly in his lap as almost everyone else in the room turns to look at you. One of the library workers shushes you loudly. “It’s—you’re right, it is boring. Everything else is fucking boring. I like it when you bother me, ‘Tsumu, okay?”

“Okay,” Atsumu says, eyes widening, leaning away from you as you seem nearly on the verge of manic combustion in front of you. “Then—I’ll keep doing it?”

“Will you?” You sit up straight and look him squarely in the eye. He gulps, unsure what he’s being asked. Something is fluttering in his stomach, but he’s hesitant to trust it.

“Yeah,” he breathes, and it feels like so much more than a confession.

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you say, in the same deceptively soft tone. “Can I kiss you?”

“Not if I kiss you—” You grab his face before he can finish talking and smash your lips onto his, first hard and like you’re trying to bully your way into his mouth, then a little sweeter, a little more tender. “First?”

“I win,” you say smugly as he tries to remember how to breathe.

“Please leave,” says the librarian.

You live alone, which is amazing, because if Atsumu were to see his brother or teammates right now he might commit felony battery. In your apartment, which is full of trinkets Atsumu wants to examine but can’t because he’s very busy staring at you, you shove him onto the couch and sit on him. Sort of like you’re wrestling, but not at all.

“If we’re goin’ out,” he says, “we are going out, right?”

“Yes, ‘Tsumu,” you say, and your smile is as bright as the stars. He clears his throat and prays his voice doesn’t crack.

“Good. Uh, if we’re goin’ out, does that mean you have to start bein’ nice to me?”

“I’ll be nicer to you,” you promise.

“Oh.” His tone is almost disappointed.

“Or,” you lean down, and he almost chokes on his own inhale. “I can date you and be mean to you at the same time,” you say into his reddening ear, your breath hot and your smiling lips barely, just barely brushing his skin. Atsumu makes a squeaking noise that can barely be understood. “What was that?”

“Yes, please,” he says fervently.

You bite his earlobe teasingly, and he finds that really nice, actually. The nicest.

#haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq!! x reader #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu x reader fluff #haikyuu!! fluff #hq!! fluff #hq fluff #haikyuu fluff #miya atsumu x reader fluff

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kitashousewife · 1 year

Text

be mine

an: heehee happy valentines day! there is still more to come so don't worry i'm not stopping here

pairings: timeskip!atsumu x fem!reader

warnings: little angst, lots of fluff, lots of pet names, confessions of feelings

the steady drum of volleyballs hitting the hardwood floor distracts atsumu's thoughts for a while. soles squeaking, teammates shouting, and the tune of the coach's whistle bouncing off of the walls. he's finally out of his head.

but, as always, the regular discussions in the locker room pull him right back in.

"how long has it been? three months? and you still haven't asked her out?"

atsumu hums, shutting his locker and giving hinata an exhausted look. "yeah, since before christmas."

"what's the hold-up?" bokuto pats atsumu on the back with wiggling eyebrows. "is little 'tsumie afraid?"

that makes him irritated. he knows he should have made things official weeks ago. the badgering isn't helping, though.

"shut up," he huffs and hides a frown with the hoodie that's pulled over his head. "until ya get a girlfriend kotaro, i don't wanna hear shit."

bokuto whistles. "okay, okay. but seriously, what's the issue?"

atsumu thinks for a second. he's honestly not really sure. he's been meaning to, he just can't find the right time.

but, he's pretty sure that's just an excuse.

"you don't have an excuse miya," sakusa smirks as they walk towards the parking lot. "i agree kotaro, i think he's scared."

"no!" atsumu quips, a little quickly. "i mean, i don't know. i really don't know. i want to, i just...can't."

"is it her? does she want to? are you getting mixed signals?" hinata rests against the hood of his car.

"no, she's always happy to talk to me. she gets excited to see me, buys me dinner, and responds immediately. she's perfect."

"soooo," sakusa raises his eyebrows. atsumu sighs.

"i just don't want to disappoint her."

his stomach flips. he's thought about it for months at this point. he wanted to make you his before the first date was over. but, his past got in the way, clouding his confidence just a touch.

past girls using him for the little money he makes. some girls accusing him of spending too much time at volleyball, and not providing enough attention. others just in it for attention, lusting after the instagram posts and twitter updates with their faces in them.

atsumu wants you to be his, and he doesn't want you to leave.

"atsumu, it's been three months. i think she knows you by now. besides, if she was interested in you for the wrong reasons, wouldn't she have left by now?" bokuto's words help atsumu to relax a little.

"yeah, yer right. god, what do i even do? i feel like a fuckin' high schooler," he whines, throwing his bag into his car.

"you're in luck. valentine's day is tomorrow, which means you have the perfect reason," sakusa slides into his car. "c'mon miya, where's your romantic side?"

atsumu thinks about that the entire drive home. he doesn't know what to do. he considers taking you out to a nice dinner, somewhere fancy and luxurious. but, reservations have probably been booked for months. he thinks about using a card, but that's lame. really, he wants to call you for advice, just like he does with everything, but that won't work.

he throws himself on his bed with a sigh.

maybe he'll never ask.

little does he know, you're in the same boat.

sitting cross-legged in the middle of your bedroom floor, you look like an art project gone wrong. glue sticks, markers, and different shades of pink cardstock litter the ground hiding the failed cards and notes from before. you sigh, putting the finishing touches on what you hope to be the final product.

a small, pink card with a bumble bee and hearts with the words bee mine in shaky cursive underneath. you're still deciding what to fill the inside with.

you don't want to say too much, but you also want to make sure you get your feelings out. it's been almost six weeks, and atsumu still hasn't made things official with you. you see him at least three times a week, he takes you to dinner but never calls them dates. he invites you to parties, event dinners, and even took you to his cousin's wedding last weekend.

what's taking him so long?

as soon as you see the clock on the wall, you groan. atsumu should be here any minute, and you haven't written a word on his card yet. he asked you if he could come over tonight, saying he was dying to see ya. since it's the night before valentines, you decide this may be your only shot. you quickly scribble something down, hearing his footsteps through the thin walls of your apartment. quick hands shove the evidence into a garbage bag before you scurry to wash up.

"honey, i'm home!" atsumu sings as he opens the door. "wait! close yer eyes!"

"why should i listen to someone who just entered my home without permission?" you say, eyes firmly closed from your spot on the couch.

"yet, ya listened anyway huh?" he teases when you flip him off from the couch. "keep em' closed pretty. i'm not ready yet."

your heart beats a little quicker. "o-okay, but i have to tell you something."

"alright sweetheart. just a second," he grunts, tripping over the strings of the five heart balloons that he holds in his left hand. he shuffles over to you at sets down a container of chocolate-covered strawberries (that he had to beg osamu to make), and a dozen roses. you smile when you hear the crinkle of cellophane.

atsumu's stomach is doing flips, but he can't do this anymore.

"okay, you can open." his voice sounds a lot more nervous than he would've liked. when you open them, he can't quite read your face.

"atsumu," you breathe. you aren't sure where to look.

"i know, it's a lot, but listen," he flops down next to you, grabbing your hands in his. "i didn't want to be lame but, i just wanted to tell you."

"okay," you ease him on. he takes a deep breath, before smiling wide.

"i think that ya have got to be the most beautiful girl i have ever seen in my life," he looks at you with hearts in his eyes. "from the moment i met ya, i wanted to make ya mine. i want to be the one ya come home to after a long day, i want to see ya in the stands during my games with my jersey on," his cheeks get a little pink.

"i want ya to be mine. my girlfriend."

"atsumu," you breathe, just like before. this time is a little more shaky, but with a bigger smile. "i want to be yours. i want you to be mine."

he laughs running his hand through his hair. "really?"

you nod, holding his face in your hands.

"really," you smile, pulling him in for a kiss. atsumu doesn't pull away until he absolutely has to, wanting to drown in this moment and keep it forever.

"baby, i don't think ya know how happy i am right now," he really can't stop smiling, no matter how hard he tries. he feels like a weight has been lifted off of his chest, amazed at the instant relief he feels after telling you.

"you didn't have to do all of this!" you pull at the balloons, watching them bounce off of one another.

"yes i did! plus, ya gotta try one of these. my brother made 'em and they're amazin'." you reach down to grab one, but he stops you.

"let me grab one!" you giggle, but he smirks.

"what's in your hand?"

you freeze, forgetting all about the card that rests between your fingertips.

"nothing."

"oh c'mon angel, lemme see!"

you shake your head, but he persists.

"why not!"

"because it's stupid, especially compared to all of this!" you gesture towards the flowers and berries.

"please," he begs, giving you a large pout. you roll your eyes.

"fine, but save the comments for yourself. i worked really hard on it."

atsumu pulls the card from it's envelope slowly before giving a quiet gasp.

"i know, i know, it looks like a preschooler did it. just give it back and-"

"are ya kidding me?" he practically shrieks. "this is goin' straight on my locker. 'gonna tape it right to the front."

"are you serious?"

"mhm," he hums, smirking when he reads the inside of the card.

happy valentine's day atsumu. you're the most handsome man i've ever met, and the funniest too. i hope that you will "bee mine" once and for all.

"what's so funny?"

"nothin', i'm just thinkin' that you might have a crush on me."

you roll your eyes, scooching a little closer to him on the couch. he wraps his arms around you and plants a kiss on top of your head.

"for the record, i have a crush on ya too. a huge one."

#heidslovesickevent #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader fluff #atsumu x reader fluff #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #miya atsumu #atsumu miya

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avis-writeshq · 1 year

Text

miya atsumu – a lovely night

genre&warnings: rated 16+ for enemies to lovers, fluff, angst, and slowburn; mentions of eating and unsafe usage of cooking knives!! fem!reader

a/n: it was meant to be a small drabble but i got carried away lmao (i’ve also been working on this for more than a year so my peep my writing style changes LMFAOOO)

w/c: 10k exact

“i hate it here.”

“you say that every morning,” aneko chuckled, tying her hair up in a ponytail. “what happened this time?”

“i have a biology presentation soon and i’m not looking forward to it.” you side-eyed the window, watching as students begin filing out of their dorm rooms and into the walkways that lead to the campus.

aneko sighed, patting your shoulder. “you’ll do fine. you do well in every presentation, you know that.”

a lopsided smile made its way onto your face as you shrug your bag over your shoulder. “thanks, aneko… i’m gonna get some coffee. you want anything?”

she shook her head ‘no’, and you shrugged, making your way down the stairs, crossing the dormitories to the cafe next to the campus.

as soon as you took your place in line, a scalding sensation erupts through your shirt and all over your chest, and you jump back in shock and pain.

“what the hell?” you demand, hissing as the coffee burned your skin. unfortunately, the perpetrator is nowhere to be found, seemingly fleeing the scene. the last thing you see of the person is a volleyball jacket and piss-coloured hair.

gritting your teeth in frustration, you storm out of the cafe, ignoring the cries of the cafe staff and trailing after him. “oi! piss hair! you little…” a grunt escapes your lips as he makes a turn, disappearing into the sea of students.

eyes narrowing into slits, you marched your way back to your dorm, throwing the door open.

“what happened to you?” sakura frowned, getting up from her seat on the couch. “oh, and aneko’s on her date.”

“first of all,” you scowled, dumping your bags on the ground and retreating to the bathroom, “if you ever see a piss-haired brat, punch them in the face for me.”

“piss-haired brat,” she rolled her eyes in amusement before asking, “are you alright, (y/n)?”

tugging the shirt over your head, you stormed back out into the kitchen. “i have a biology presentation in an hour, i had boiling coffee spill on me and the guy didn’t even apologise! and now aneko has to go and flaunt her non-singleness to the world!”

“well, that guy is a douchebag,” she hummed. “and you know you always get the highest score in biology, so that’s not an issue for you. oh and you’re never going to guess what kou-chan told me!”

you raise an unsuspecting eyebrow, “what?”

she squeals, her hand clapping in excitement. “they knows someone who needs a date! he’s looking for a partner!”

your nose scrunched in distaste, “you set me up with six dates since last september and it’s only the beginning of january. do i really want your help in finding a date?”

“i know someone. trust me on this, okay?” she pats your shoulder and smooths out your hair. “are you free tomorrow night?”

“i think so…” you eye her wearily. “i’m trusting you, got it?”

she grins, the smile stretching across her face in excitement, “i won’t let you down! oh, you should start heading to biology.”

you nod, “alright… i’ll see you later. it’s your turn to buy groceries, so don’t forget!”

shooting you a thumbs up, sakura goes back to her fashion magazine, and you close the dorm door. maybe the day would get better? it can only go up from here… right? shaking the negative thoughts out of your head, you half-jog to the lecture hall, clutching at the strap of your shoulder bag. the hall is already half-filled with people reading over their notes, doing last-minute editing, and practising.

finding a seat near the middle, you began taking out all your notes from your bag. as you read through your entire presentation, the chair beside you screeched as someone took a seat there.

glancing up at the person to say a quick greeting and then you realised — “you!”

you bolted up from your seat, your eyes narrowed and the chair screeched as it dragged against the floor. he gapes, watching you stand.

“the hell ya talkin’ about?”

“you–” you flinched as the sharp hushing of students met your ears and you bowed sheepishly in apology. you turned back to the smug-looking brat, hissing your explanations. “the main issue is the fact that you spilled hot coffee on me. what’s worse is how you didn’t even apologise!”

he chuckled, “i see. you’re just a fan who wants attention! okay, you can watch our volleyball practice–”

“i don’t want to watch your stupid volleyball practice!” you snapped, gathering your books and shoving them into your bag. “unless you want to apologise, i don’t want to see your ugly face and piss hair.”

“hey–”

flipping him off as discreetly as possible, you stalked your way over to the other side of the lecture hall, sitting in between two students.

one raised their eyebrow at you. “is miya atsumu your boyfriend?”

you scoffed, muttering under your breath, “atsumu? what a shitty name…” you turn back to them, “no, he’s not my boyfriend. if he was, he would be dead by now.”

they nod, eyebrows raised, before turning back to their notes.

you, on the other hand, were left to your thoughts. miya? where have you heard that name before? and why the hell did he look so familiar?

***

“oi–”

“are you going to apologise?” you asked, not looking at him as you pack up your things after your successful presentation. “listen, buddy, i'm in a good mood. something i don’t want you screwing up.”

“i’m not here to apologise,” he huffed, “but maybe i can make it up to you?”

“i only want an apology, sweet cheeks,” a sarcastic smile bloomed on your face, and you patted his cheek snarkily. “now if you excuse me, i would like to get the coffee i couldn’t get this morning.”

“i’ll treat you,” atsumu offered and you shot him a glare.

“sure. i’ll take an apology with a side of sincerity.”

the smile on your face grew wider and you walked out of the lecture room and into the throng of students.

***

“i sure hope that this date of mine is as good as you say…” you hummed, searching through your bag to make sure you have everything. “why does it have to be at this fancy restaurant again?”

“because the guy just so happens to be extra,” sakura says, taking a left turn and parking in front of a tall building. “you are wearing the heels i gave you right?”

you nodded begrudgingly, recalling how she forced you to wear them before you left your dorm.

she squealed, her bright blue eyes gleaming with happiness. “okay, so here’s the rundown. the restaurant is ise sueyoshi–”

“i’m sorry, ise sueyoshi, as in one of the most expensive restaurants in all of tokyo?”

“i tried to talk him out of it,” she defended, grimacing at the thought of the bill. “look, it’ll be fine. just don’t think about it, okay? after the restaurant, you’ll take a nice walk around the city! oh, and i’m confiscating your keys.”

you blanched, “what, why?”

“so that you can’t ditch him halfway. no one is going to be home until your date is over, so there’s no reason for you to ditch.” she grinned, “you’ll be fine! he’s a good guy, trust me on this.”

you groaned in annoyance but pushed the car door open. “i’ll call you when i get inside the restaurant.”

she beamed, yelling, “the reservation is under hasegawa sakura!” before driving off into the distance.

a sigh left your lips as you stomp your way inside the building, taking the lift to the 11th floor. after entering the restaurant, you take a seat, looking at the bright city of tokyo below you.

“what a view, huh?”

no. you scowled, looking up at atsumu. “i’ve seen better.”

he shrugged, taking the seat in front of you and swirling his cup of wine around. “so yer my blind date. i would have thought that sakura had better friends.”

you sneered as you rose from your seat. “i was thinking the same thing. the only reason i’m on this stupid date is because of her, anyway.”

he grinned, and you felt a chill run down your spine as he says, “so ya asked her to set’cha up with me? very cute, sweetheart, but if ya wanted to go on a date with me, ya could have just asked.”

you scoffed, “i know full well about your reputation with girls, sweetheart. they go up to you all starry-eyed and then you break their hearts. besides, why the hell would i be attracted to someone like you?”

atsumu flinched at the honesty in your voice. do people really see him as some dream crusher heart breaker? “listen, sweet cheeks–” he relished in the way your cheeks darken at his words– “i am a great person.”

“yes, because every ‘great person’ flaunts about it in the hallways. yes, miya, you’re a great person.” the sarcasm rolled off your tongue fluidly, and he can’t help but roll his eyes when you speak again. “i lost my appetite. excuse me.”

he bolted up from his seat, eyes wide as you throw your bag over your shoulder and make your way out of the restaurant. “woah, woah, woah. do ya know how hard it was to get a reservation here? i even got a suit for this!”

“no, i don’t know how hard it was to get a reservation here. and this is just further proof you’re an asshole. you want to show off your money to some random stranger, knowing entirely that it’s a blind date.” you fake a smile and bow to the staff members.

atsumu faltered in his step before continuing to run after you. “okay, listen–”

“no, i am not going to listen, because the only thing that comes out of your mouth is bullshit. come on sakura, pick up…”

“(l/n)–”

“stop! okay, just… just stop.” your nostrils flared, and you turned around to shoot him a venomous glare. “i don’t care about you or your dumb polyester suit–”

“it’s wool.”

“–but you have to be stupid to think that i’d ever fall for you.”

he groaned, wiping his face in frustration. “we’re both doing this for sakura so can ya just cooperate for one damn night?”

you grit your teeth, eyeing him carefully, “okay. just one night.”

***

“i have t’ask,” atsumu begins, your bag thrown haphazardly over his shoulder. “why are ya on this date anyway? woulda thought that someone as charming as you would have had a date by now.”

“i could ask you the same question,” you quip, eyes fixated on the bright city lights that you could see from the aoyama bridge. “it’s not important anyway.”

he shrugged, “just wanted to know why.”

“both sakura and aneko have boyfriends. it kind of sucks to be the third wheel all the time. they give me hell for not doing anything on friday nights, too,” you shrug, “i mean, it’s not a big deal.”

atsumu snorts at your words. “so you want a date for the sake of having a date?”

“i want a date for the sake of not being lonely,” you correct, “but i think i’m going to have to be lonely for the time being.”

“an’ why do you think that?” a lazy smirk rests on his lips. “i’d be a perfect boyfriend.”

“yeah, that’d appeal to someone who believes in romance,” you laugh, patting his cheek and taking your bag off him.

to miya atsumu, life is a competition to be the best. who can win the most volleyball games? who can get the highest test result? who can eat the most onigiris from onigiri miya without taking breaks? life to him is a competition. it’s a race to the finish line and the person who gets there first is the winner. and what you just said? it sounds an awful lot like a challenge.

“alright then,” he grins at you, “i’ll make you fall in love with me by… say, end of june.”

“what’s that going to do for you? give you an ego boost?” you roll your eyes, “i’m not doing that.”

“scared, sweetheart?”

crossing your arms over your chest, you shoot him a glare. “no, i’m not. but i hope you realise that i am frankly feeling nothing.”

“is that so?”

“mmm, no. in fact, it could be less than nothing.”

he chuckles, “good to know. so, you agree?”

“that this is a waste of a lovely night? yes.”

“you know what i mean. if i can make you fall in love with me by the end of june, you have to be my girlfriend.”

you snort in response, “if i didn’t know any better, miya, i’d say you’re in love with me.”

he rolls his eyes, clearly ignoring your first remark. “alright then, choose your prize if you’re so confident.”

“if you fall in love with me…” you hum an evil glint in your eye, “i get total and full control over your social media.”

he smirks, holding out his hand for you to shake. “anything for you, princess.”

***

to you, life was about survival. don’t die, don’t mess up, don’t be a failure. that also meant ‘don’t get lonely, because that just screws things up for everyone’. aneko had eito, her boyfriend since high school, and sakura had taniguchi kou, the manager for the ejp volleyball team. that must have been how she even had connections to miya atsumu in the first place. survival was also not doing anything unnecessary. whether it be sleeping at ungodly hours, binge-watching an entire anime, or just studying too much, you couldn’t do that because it’ll destroy your schedule the next day. your life was based on routine. that is, it was based on routine.

“hey, (y/n), there’s some mail for you!” aneko yells out into the dorm, waving a pristine envelope around.

you raise an eyebrow. “it’s probably junk, just throw it out!”

“i’m gonna open it, okay?” she beams at you as you crack an egg into the pan.

“knock yourself out.”

you hum quietly to yourself as you turn off the stove and move the egg on top of your rice. grabbing a pair of chopsticks from your drawer, you cut through the egg, just as you hear a squeal.

“(y/n), oh my god, did you buy volleyball tickets? they’re vips, too!”

“what?” you push your seat back, grabbing the envelope from aneko’s hands. “i didn’t buy any volleyball tickets? it’s probably been given to the wrong person.”

“but there was a note for you in the envelope…” she frowned, “are you sure that it’s not for you?”

confusion was clear on your face as you pulled the note out, but it was replaced with a look of pure annoyance when you realised exactly who the note was from.

‘dear: (l/n) (y/n),

see you in the stands ;)

from: atsumu <3’

a deep scowl plasters itself onto your face and you dial his number into your phone.

“did you–”

“you absolute asshole!” you yell into your phone, swiftly cutting him off, slapping a hand against your forehead. “i’m not going to your dumb volleyball game, got it? i have things to do and places to be.”

“you and i both know that isn’t true, sweetheart,” he snorts and you can practically hear his eye roll. “you told me yourself - you don’t usually have plans on friday nights.”

you grimace because yes, you did say that. “well maybe i have plans now?” the words came out as a question and he chuckles.

“come on, it’ll be fun!”

“we’ll see,” you mutter before hanging up.

***

“i’ve never been in a proper volleyball stadium before,” aneko says as she bit into her onigiri. “i can’t believe you got vip tickets, (n/n)!”

“yeah… amazing,” you manage, a meek smile plastered on your face.

the entire stadium looks as if a rainbow puked on it. bright, colourful posters to support the players well held high in the air by multiple people. banners hang over the stands, the team’s logo and motto drawn in neat calligraphy... the multitude of people who came to watch was overwhelming – almost every seat has been filled.

“the first match is… black jackals versus the sendai frogs!” aneko beams as she looks at the flyer. “wow, they’re both really good. (y/n), look at them!”

forcing the flyer in front of your face, you push it away from you so you could properly read it, taking note of the team members. each of the members on both teams look good — really good. you look around yourself and chuckle, of course. no wonder it was so full. most of the fans are girls anyway.

one girl, sporting a bright blue shirt with the words ‘go atsumu!’, happens to catch your eye. she’s a typical popular girl — false clumpy lashes that you can spot from a mile away, hair curled in obnoxious rings, and a banner that screamed ‘look at me!’. you can tell from the amused looks the people gave her that she is a common spectator at msby games.

“that’s emiko etsudo,” aneko grumbles, catching your gaze, “she’s in my lecture and never stops talking.”

“seems to be the type,” you snort, turning back to the volleyball courts where the players began to take their places.

the black jackals are insane. even when they were just starting up you can already tell how skilled they are. each spike that hits against the glossy wooden floors sends shivers down your spine. as the game went on and got more intense, it’s clear that msby was in the lead in the fifth set. both teams won two sets each, an impressive feat in itself, and the score for the fifth set is close — 11-10 in the jackal’s favour.

soon enough, atsumu’s turn to serve came around after a quick rotation, and the cheerleaders and band immediately fell into a hush. your eyes meet with atsumu and he sends a wink your way, resulting in a high pitched shriek to resound throughout the stadium. you can hear emiko freaking out and screaming that he was winking at her, amusing you. sending a small, two-fingered salute back at atsumu, you brushed your pants down as you stood up.

“i’m gonna head off to the bathroom for a second. i’ll be right back, okay?”

aneko nods, fully immersed in the game. letting out a tired sigh, you leave the gym, searching for the restroom. the volleyball game must have ended a lot quicker than you expected when an entire team walks past you, almost trampling you in the process.

“well, well, well. what do we have here?”

you groan, “miya. i’m assuming you won?”

“don’t look so excited,” he grins boyishly, and you ignore the warming of your heart as he does. “we’re gonna go get some drinks after we win. care to join?”

he slings a sweaty arm over your shoulder and you cringe, pushing his arm off. “i don’t do drinks.”

“you harassing someone, miya?” a lazy voice drawls from behind you, and you almost jump at the random voice.

“o’course not, omi-kun!” atsumu snorts, “this is (y/n)!”

“(l/n),” you correct, patting his back sarcastically, “we’re not quite there yet.”

‘omi-kun’ raises an eyebrow. “right. nice to meet you.” and with that, he followed the rest of the team into the locker room, hands stuffed into his pockets.

“that’s a character.” you roll your eyes. “anyway, i better head back to aneko. she’s probably getting worried.”

“i’ll walk ya,” he offers, a bright smile on his face, only for it to fall within seconds.

“miya? what’s—”

a harsh squeal meets your ears and you flinch, whipping around to see etsudo, her merch in plain view and looking like a disco ball.

“atsumu, oh my god, you were so good out there!” her high pitched voice rings in your ears.

“shut up—” atsumu begins, but stops short. your words echo in his head, ‘they go up to you all starry-eyed and then you break their hearts’. “yeah, whatever.”

etsudo’s eyes widen and you can practically see the excitement oozing out of her. “i knew you’d love me!”

“how do you get that from— never mind,” you shake your head, a sarcastic smile on your face as you begin to walk away. “i’m gonna go. good luck with this, miya.”

“wait, hold on,” atsumu fumbles, running past etsudo and trailing behind you. “i said i would walk ya.”

“but you were having such a good time with your fangirl,” you say innocently, battering your eyelashes. “emiko etsudo, i think her name is?”

“don’t remind me,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “she’s gone to every game and thinks that i’m in love with her or something. spoiled pig…”

“so you don’t like her? do you hate all your fans?” you raise an eyebrow, both in curiosity and in disbelief.

he shrugs, a smirk on his face. “not all of them. you’re the only one i can tolerate.”

“smooth,” you laugh, “how many girls did you use that one on?”

“just one,” he hums, bumping his side gently against yours.

you can’t deny the fluttering of your insides as he does and you scold yourself. this is a game to him — he doesn’t feel anything for you.

“how nice of you,” you say, trying to ignore the growing blush on your cheeks and the heat that’s crawled up to your ears. “well, there’s aneko. i’m gonna go…”

“alright, then.” he grins, taking your hand and kissing the back of it. “until next time, sweet cheeks.”

you gape as he leaves, cheeks hot with embarrassment and surprise. “wha-”

“(y/n), oh my god, was that atsumu?” aneko demands, shaking you to answer.

you don’t respond, trying to calm yourself down from shock, your heart racing a thousand times an hour. you don’t mean anything to him. you’re a game to him — a game that he plays just to show everyone else that he is better than them.

“(y/n)? are you okay?”

you jolt out of your trance, blinking tiredly. “oh. yeah. i’m fine.”

***

“atsumu-san, who was that?” hinata bounds up to him, all smiles after winning against his longtime rival.

“(l/n) (y/n), apparently,” sakusa responds, his hands still stuffed in his pockets and a towel around his shoulders.

“oh, she’s sakura-chan’s friend, right?” bokuto asks brightly and takes a bite of his protein bar.

atsumu nods, mind distant as he thinks about where to take you on your next ‘date’. it wouldn't be a real date if he already bet on it, right? would a cafe work? what about a cat cafe? do you even like cats?

“oi, miya.”

he looks up to see sakusa, and he grins, “knew i’d grow on you, omi-omi~”

“your face looks gross,” he scrunches his face in disgust.

“you had a funny look on your face, atsumu-san!” hinata laughs.

“like how taniguchi-san looks at sakura-chan!” bokuto agrees side-eying atsumu who was no longer paying attention to the conversation.

currently, atsumu was thinking of a million ways he could win your heart. he was thinking of a million ways to get you to fall for him, all so that he can prove to you that he isn’t as bad as you think he is. he had a little over a month to get you to fall in love with him and, granted, he did spill boiling coffee over you and then proceeded to not apologise. scratching his head in thought, a lightbulb suddenly dinged in his head. there is only one person in the world who knows everything about everything. and in this case? everyone.

***

“nice try. not happening,” sakura responds swiftly, turning away from the setter. “look, atsumu, you’re my friend and all, but the fact that you want to win my best friend over for the sake of your pride isn’t a good enough reason to ‘get to know her’. if anything, it makes you seem like an even shitter person than everyone perceives you to be.”

he snorts at her words, “you really are a friend of (y/n). come on, sakura-chan! i just need to know what she likes! that’s all!”

sakura grits her teeth, beginning to regret sending you on that date with this piss-haired brat. “i don’t care, atsumu. i’m not going to let you break her heart for the sake of your stupid pride. you want to use someone for your stupid experiment? fine, not my problem, but you’re going to use my best friend.”

he flinches at her icy tone, now understanding why kou-san warned him about getting on sakura’s bad side. despite her incredibly bright and sunny disposition, she really was incredibly terrifying when it came to the people that she cared about which was not good for him. next attempt? fukuhara aneko.

“i don’t understand why you’re trying so hard,” aneko remarks as she invites atsumu into the shared apartment, “you’re doing this… because you want to be known as some dreamboat who breaks girls’ hearts left right and centre?”

“i’m doing this to prove a point,” atsumu corrects, “but when you say it that way—”

“i am not going to let you break my best friend’s heart,” aneko cuts in, taking a knife out of the knife block and waving it around halfheartedly, relishing in the way the setter flinches. “nice try, though.”

he groans in annoyance, “sakura-chan said the same thing.”

“then why are you trying?” aneko demands, frustration clear in her voice, “you’re putting all this effort in to ‘prove a point’. do you know how ridiculous you sound? what’s the real reason you want to win (y/n) over?”

at her words, atsumu falls silent. as cliche as it seemed, you were interesting to him. you’re different, and at his thoughts, the volleyball player cringes internally. to be entirely fair, and to give you credit, you stood your ground around him which was admirable, to say the least. unlike the other ‘spoiled pigs’, you actually have some sort of awareness. maybe he…

he shakes his head, snorting quietly. as if he attracted to someone the likes of you.

“i’ll figure it out myself,” atsumu concludes, avoiding aneko’s unimpressed gaze. “she has to fall for me at some point. does she have any social media?”

“i thought you said that you’ll figure it out yourself,” aneko responds drily. “why don’t you just ask her yourself? let me guess; your pride?"

to atsumu, that sounded a whole lot like a challenge.

***

for a friday morning, you were surprisingly busy, especially because of all the practice exams you’ve been doing as preparation for an exam that will take place in less than three months. but of course, no day passes without a few random interruptions.

“hey, sweetheart, you doing anything?”

atsumu’s annoying voice rang in your ears through the phone, and you couldn’t help but grit your teeth. “what do you want, miya?”

“i was just wondering if there’s anything in particular you wanted to do, lately,” he responds, his voice in a sing-song tone. “just figured i should take you out on a better date.”

you scoff at his proposal, “nice try, miya. you’re not getting me that easily.”

“aw, don’t be like that, darling! i’ll take you out to get coffee, how about that?”

a silence washes over you as you consider his offer. to be entirely fair, you couldn’t really say no to a free food, and it did give him a chance to redeem himself. not to mention you definitely did need the coffee at some point.

“alright, miya, let’s do it.” you shrug, not that he could see it, “when and where?”

“i’ll text you the address,” he responds, and you can hear the pride and smugness through the phone. “see you there, babe.”

from: miya

hey princess!

from: miya

[sent location]

from: miya

see you in 20!

a sigh escapes your lips, not believing that you actually let yourself be dragged into this mess – a mess that was only made for atsumu’s pride and ego. picking up your bag, you made your way over to the location he sent you, praying that it wasn’t some sick joke and that you weren’t about to be murdered.

your arrival at the cafe doesn’t go unnoticed by the volleyball player, the little bell at the door welcoming you in and announcing your presence to the rest of the people inside. you don’t miss the way atsumu’s head spins around to look at you, a boyish grin spreading onto his face as if to say, “i can’t believe you’re actually here.” you find it funny, considering how he’s the one who invited you here in such an ominous way. he waves you over enthusiastically – too enthusiastically – and you ignore the quickening of your heart at the way he looks so excited to see you.

he’s not happy to see you, you have to remind yourself – although you feel your heart begin to sink at your own thoughts. you huff, now is not the time to be caught up in his romantic theatrics. the only reason why he’s so excited to see you is to rub it in your face that you actually fell for it. right?

“i already ordered for us!” atsumu said happily, taking a sip of his coffee for affect, “ya don’t mind, do ya, princess?”

“atsumu, do you really think i’m a princess?” you ask, batting your eyelashes.

“ya know i do, princess!” he smiles, pushing a dark chocolate mocha towards you.

“then stop making decisions for me,” you deadpan, crossing your legs. “how do you even know what i order anyway?”

another obnoxious grin your way as he answers, “i have connections.”

you scoff once again, rolling your eyes as you lifted the drink to your lips.

atsumu hates the way his eyes fell to your lips as you spoke and he hates the way his heart began to pound the second you stepped through the door of the cafe. he isn’t supposed to feel this way – he’s not supposed to like you. so he suppresses his feelings. as usual.

the date – could you even call it a date? – ended on a positive note to your surprise. atsumu was clearly doing his best to be ‘the man of your dreams’, and as much as you appreciated his gentlemanly ways, you hated to admit that you missed his teasing charms and his childish antics. the idea of you missing his annoying nature is beyond your own understanding, to the point where you were almost sure that he had successfully brainwashed you.

you shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts away as you return to the present. atsumu decided to walk you back to your dorm which, to give him credit, was actually quite sweet of him… even though you kept insisting that it wasn’t necessary.

“hey, lets do this again sometime,” you find yourself saying, realising that you actually did enjoy the boy’s company. “it was fun!”

he smirks smugly at you, and you had to laugh as he says, “i knew i’d grow on you, love!”

“just be yourself next time,” you snort, patting him on the shoulder as you walk to the entrance of your dorm building. “i’m paying!”

“as if!” he yells back, and you smile as he waves goodbye.

you’re left to your thoughts as you ride the elevator to the seventh floor, thinking over what just transpired. it was weird – considering atsumu’s naturally flirtatious character – and if you had to be completely honest with yourself, it was unnerving seeing him do a complete one-eighty regarding his personality.

the biggest thing that worried you was how he was so willing and quick to change his personality for someone. was he that desperate to prove himself to a complete stranger?

“so…?”

you hear a voice as you enter your dorm. there, sakura leaned against the kitchen counter, the biggest and the smuggest look on her face.

“how was the date?” she coos, eyes glistening in mischief.

“weird,” you respond, dropping your bags to the side as you pull a chair out to sit. “sakura, you know him. has he ever been in any… bad relationships?”

she thinks for a moment before responding, “why do you ask?”

you shrug, resting your chin on the palm of your hand. “he just seems to eager to prove how macho he is. did something happen?”

“from what i know, and from what kou’s told me, he’s always been like that. you could always ask osamu-san, though. you know him, the owner of onigiri miya.”

you clicked your fingers in acknowledgement, “so that’s why he looked so familiar! i haven’t been to that place in ages!”

she nods, “ask osamu. tell him i sent you.”

***

“kombu-onigiri for (l/n) (y/n)!” osamu calls out to the small crowd of people, and you have to do a double take when you see him.

he was practically the same as atsumu, aside from his dark grey eyes and ash brown hair, and you had to hold your tongue from complaining.

“thanks,” you smile, taking the little bag.

“i haven’t seen you in a while,” osamu comments as he prepares another order. “busy with uni?”

you sigh tiredly, “it is what it is. i wanted to talk to you about something.”

he nods, “shoot. umekaka-onigiri for kimura!”

“it’s about atsumu.”

he stops before turning to you slowly. “... let’s wait until i close, yeah? happy to wait for another hour or so?”

“take your time.”

time passes quickly among the quiet vocaloid music and the volleyball game that played on the tv overhead, as well as the multitude of customers that came and went. osamu gave you complimentary onigiris while you waited and despite your initial denial of the free food, you had to give in to the soft smell of caramelised rice and sesame oil.

it was well past seven o’clock by the time osamu was able to speak to you, but at least you were well fed while you waited.

“sorry about that,” osamu apologises, untying his apron and placing a cup of hot green tea in front of you. “what did you want to talk about?”

at that moment, you want to scream at the universe. of course, you’re stuck with the annoying stuck up brat instead of the sweet chef that sat in front of you.

“don’t worry about it,” you smile, wrapping your hands around the warm cup. “atsumu… has he ever been in any bad romantic relationships?”

he doesn’t respond directly, instead chuckling and asking, “you’re the girl he’s seeing, aren’t you? the hard-headed one? what does he call you again? oh, ‘princess’, was it?”

you raise an eyebrow, “he talks about me?”

he smirks, leaning back in his seat and there’s a smugness as he says, “a lot more than you think, princess.”

you take back everything you said about the universe. both the miya twins were equally insufferable.

“don’t call me that. and answer the question!”

his face falls from the obnoxious grin he once had and settles into a frown. “he was. a year ago, with… tachibana reina, i think. fucking bitch.”

your eyes widen at the sudden coldness and spite that drips from his words. “what happened?”

“cheated on him. treated him like shit. god… no wonder he’s been going on so many dates.” he runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “i shouldn’t tell you this, and frankly i shouldn’t be telling you anything, but…”

he looks around, almost comically, before saying, “i really think you’re good for him, (y/n). i’m serious. out of all the girls he’s gone on dates with, he’s made it pretty clear that he likes you.”

you almost laugh if he wasn’t so serious. “he’s only trying so hard to prove a point, osamu. he doesn’t feel anything for me.”

he sips his green tea, laughing quietly, “i promise he actually likes you. he’s just scared, y’know?”

“from everything you’ve told me? i get it.” it’s your turn to frown as you digest his words. “i just need to take care of myself too, that’s all.”

“just talk to him. really, he’s not as bad a guy as you’d expect.”

***

after days of psyching yourself up – only to psych yourself out – you find yourself waiting at the university gym, cringing internally at the smell of sweat and antiperspirant. but all that goes away the moment you sit at the bleachers, the manager of the team nodding in acknowledgement. the rest of the volleyball team didn’t seem to notice your entry into the gym, and if they did, they clearly didn’t pay any mind to it as they continued their practice game. and damn was it a view. strangely enough, you found your eyes to linger a little too long on a familiar blond player, him sporting the number ‘7’ on his jersey.

as much as you wanted to deny it, it was undeniably cute and inspiring to see him work so hard. but it all comes crashing down when he lands awkwardly on his leg after a block.

it all happens so quickly; the captain calling for a time-out, the manager rushing over to him and the coach yelling for everyone to give him some room. you stand from your seat, hoping to get a better view of what was going on, and you did. and you wished you just stayed seated or you could purge the image out of your memory.

there atsumu sat, trying and failing to get up without anyone’s help. it was a painful scene to watch as he gasped in pain and exhaustion, denying his captain’s hand and ignoring his manager’s pleas to let the rest of the team help him.

“hey, atsumu…”

his neck snaps to look at you, your hand outstretched with a lopsided smile on your face (you tried to make it reassuring).

“come on, ‘tsumu. let’s get you to the infirmary.”

you help him wrap an arm over your neck as you hoist him up, him balancing on his good leg.

“i got it from here,” you say to the coach who let out a heave of relief.

“thank you, (l/n).”

the walk to the infirmary was quiet, and although it was only a short distance, the journey seemed to stretch on and on. the moment he makes his presence aware to the nurse, she fusses over him, almost like a mother goose tending to her child.

it was obvious that atsumu was doing his best to stay strong, despite how his brown eyes glossed over with tears and how he hissed in pain when the nurse moved his ankle slightly.

“a sprain,” she says to the both of you, before addressing the boy in front of her. “grade two sprain, teetering to grade three. i’m calling six weeks off the ankle and then rehab for two weeks.”

“that’s… two months?”

the voice crack is evident in the setter’s voice and he’s on the verge of tears. you would be, too if you were in his shoes. taking one month off to recover is already bad enough for an athlete, let alone two.

she nods, “i’ll let your coach know. stay off the ankle, atsumu, i mean it.” she turns to you, “you make sure of it, okay?”

“of course.”

you drive atsumu’s car (a fancy mercedes because apparently their team was sponsored by them or something like that) to his dorm, helping him onto the couch.

“are you okay?”

he nods and you watch him swallow the lump in his throat.

you ask him again, and it’s only then when he cries. you sit beside him as he cries into the crook of your neck, his hair tickling your cheek and your ear as you rub his back. you press kisses to the top of his head, denying every horrible harsh thing that comes out of his mouth. he cries and cries until there’s nothing left to cry about. he cries about his injury and how he’s letting everyone down. he cries about how he’s never good enough and how you deserve better – someone who isn’t stuck up and obnoxious. he cries about reina and how it’s his fault she fell out of love with him. he cries about how he was horrible to osamu, his brother who put up with all his problems and who always treats him with kindness despite everything. he apologises and apologises until he falls asleep in your arms, and at that moment you shed a tear.

you hate yourself for all the harsh things you say about him behind closed doors. you hate the way you thought of him as a nuisance because, god, he is the furthest thing from a nuisance. you hate the way you used to wish he wasn’t in your life because you realise that now you wouldn’t know how life would be without seeing his pretty face and his genuine joy to see you.

you move him so that he can rest his head on a cushion – a feat in itself considering that he’s 73 kilograms of pure muscle – before making a phone call.

when he finally wakes, the first thing he sees is you.

“you’re awake,” you say, more to yourself than to him.

“sorry,” he responds, his eyes puffy and swollen, and you raise an eyebrow at his word as he pushes himself up from the couch so that his back was against the backrest.

“you don’t need to apologise,” you chuckle, “anyway, i called osamu-san about what happened and he brought some food for you to eat.”

he’s silent, looking up at you, confusion clear in his eyes. why are you being so… nice to him?

“i thought you hated me,” he says bitterly, his gaze shifting to his hands.

you falter, and you stop stirring the udon. “i… i’m sorry.” you look back at the pot, “i never… i never hated you.”

he scoffs in disbelief, “you did. i know you did.”

“i didn’t,” you respond firmly, moving to pour the udon into a large bowl, “i didn’t hate you. i think i hated the idea that you were using me, or something.” you sprinkle some spring onions over the udon before topping it up with an egg and the tempura that osamu helped you fry earlier. “that’s what you wanted, isn’t it? this entire thing is a game – a bet – to boost your ego.” he’s quiet as you talk, and you sigh in both frustration and regret. “but i never hated you. and i’m sorry that you felt like i did.”

you place the bowl in front of him on the coffee table, wiping your hands on your pants awkwardly. “um, yeah… i’m gonna clean up now so… call me when you need me, i guess.”

“can you stay here?” atsumu asks suddenly, and you nod.

“sure.”

***

despite all your protests and your pleas, you, osamu, and atsumu walk into the university gym four weeks later. well, it wasn’t so much walking for atsumu as it was wheeling him through the glass sliding doors. that was your condition for him to enter the gym: for him to sit in a wheel chair while you wheel him around. sure, wheeling around a man the size of atsumu isn’t what you would consider to be fun, but the doctor did call for at least six weeks off the injury, and you weren’t about to be scolded by a medical personnel. osamu tags along with you, saying that he wanted to ‘see his brother in his misery’.

cheers and greetings from the team flood your ears, and you grin happily at all of them. of course, sakusa wastes no time in shooting sarcastic comments to atsumu, but you know that deep down he’s happy that his friend is doing okay with his injury. hinata and bokuto are beyond excited, high-fiving atsumu and telling him that they can’t wait for him to get back onto the court. meian scolds atsumu lightly for not taking care of himself, but he turns to you with a grateful smile.

you smile at the scene, standing off to the side with a few other people as you watch everyone reconnect with their ‘long lost team member’ when you notice osamu’s face fall. his expression hardens and he narrows his eyes at the door.

“osamu, what–”

one look at the gym doors is enough to make your heart fall as a tall girl stands at the entrance. it’s almost impossible to miss her – what, with her obnoxious outfit that doesn’t fit a university gym in the slightest – as she looks around the gym with a raised eyebrow. it’s only when she sees atsumu does her expression change into a ridiculous tear-stricken look, her eyebrows knitting together as her brilliant blue eyes well with tears.

“atsumu!” she cries, and everyone turns around as her high-pitched voice enters their ears.

meian blinks in confusion before turning to atsumu, whose face is now pale white before settling into a frown.

“atsumu-san, who is that?”

“tachibana reina,” osamu scowls, stepping in front of his brother protectively. “what the hell are you doing here?”

tachibana sniffs before wiping a stray tear off from her cheek. “i heard that atsumu-chan was injured so i came right away!”

you grit your teeth, moving to stand beside the onigiri-maker. “he was injured four weeks ago. if you really did care, you would have at least called earlier.”

her expression shifts in an almost comical way, an eyebrow raising at you and she speaks as if you burned her. “who are you?”

“we could ask you the same question,” sakusa spits back, lifting his mask up to cover his face as he expresses his hostility.

samson foster, the coach of msby, steps forward to meet with tachibana, and you can tell that he isn’t at all pleased. first of all, she decides to wear three-inch high heels into a gym, proceeds to jump herself onto an injured team member, and she didn’t even ask to visit from one of the team or staff members.

you crouch beside atsumu so that you can look in his eyes as you ask him, “you want to go now?”

he swallows thickly, eyes flicking to where tachibana stands, before nodding. “yeah.” he looks away from you when he says it.

“okay.”

you nod in acknowledgement to the rest of the team, osamu saying that he wanted to be with the team in hopes to diffuse the situation and in hopes of sending tachibana packing. sakusa raises an eyebrow at you and you smile reassuringly, mouthing the words, ‘i’ll text you later’, which he responds with a nod of his own.

“she has some nerve,” you comment as you drive through the freeway. “coming all the way here, i mean. she’s already done so much to hurt you and she just pops in from out of the blue?” you scoff, shaking your head as you indicate left to reach the exit. “i’ve only met her for ten seconds and i already hate her. how did you even survive dating her for as long as you did?”

he chuckles from beside you, “i guess we all make bad dating mistakes.”

“she’s the worst.” you roll your eyes, pulling up to his driveway. “you have the patience of a fucking saint.”

you help him into his apartment, quietly hoping that the issue at the gym has been diffused. you doubt it, considering the stories atsumu has told you about his lying ex-girlfriend, but you had to hope for the best.

“regardless of whether or not she actually cares for you, her actions were uncalled for.” you continue as you prop up your laptop on the coffee bench. “did you see osamu’s face?”

he laughs loudly, moving to sit closer next to you. “he has a dumb face.”

“you have the same face!” you cry out, clapping him on the shoulder. “anyway, i have an exam in a couple days, so hush.”

he shoots you another cheeky grin and you condemn the way your heart stutters in your chest.

“anything you say, princess.”

***

“welcome back,” coach foster chuckles, clapping atsumu on the back as he walks into the gym. “your ankle all good? you went to all your rehab sessions, right?”

“o’course!” atsumu grins, stumbling a little from the force of the clap. “(Y/N) wouldn’t let me skip any even if i wanted to.”

bokuto snickers, “oh yeah, your girlfriend!”

atsumu chuckles at his friends words, waving them off. “nah, she’s not my girlfriend.”

“but you like her, right?” hinata is quick to respond, wiggling his brows. “even sakusa likes her!”

atsumu’s face morphs into a betrayed one as he wails teasingly, drooping and arm over his friend. “no, omi-omi, how could you do this to me?!”

“get off.” sakusa grumbles not unkindly. “you smell.”

“oi, i showered!”

while atsumu was living his life, you were tempted to stay at home for a week while your mourned. what exactly were you mourning though? simple: the fact that you were very much gaining feelings for miya atsumu. in other words, you were wallowing in your misery. this wasn’t supposed to happen. you weren’t supposed to let him win.

“it’s really not that bad,” sakura offers, patting your head sympathetically. “i know it’s not ideal-”

“not ideal?” you demand, bringing your head up fro your pillows to glare at her. “this is, like, the worst thing that could happen!”

“i think you’re overreacting,” aneko offers from the otherside of the couch, rolling her eyes when your bury your face into the pillow in your arms again.

“i’m not overreacting,” you groan, words muffled by the pillows. you lift your head up once again and you scrunch your face in frustration. “he’s- he’s- this entire thing is a game to him! he doesn’t even like me!”

“i really doubt that,” sakura says gently, rubbing your back. “i know it might seem like he’s an asshole, but he’s a really nice person.”

aneko snorts, “i don’t think you need to tell her that.”

“i hate you both!” you complain, flopping backwards in your agitation. “he’s going to break my heart.”

your friends exchange looks before aneko pipes up once again. “maybe you should talk to him about it.”

“as if!” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest. “he’s just going to rub it in my face.”

sakura squeezes your shoulder reassuringly. “sweetie, i really don’t think he’d do that.”

“but you don’t know if he will or not!” you let out another scream into your pillow, tears prickling your eyes. “how could i be so- so- so stupid?!”

“you’re not being stupid. it’s normal to catch feelings and you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. atsumu probably feels the same way.”

you roll your eyes, “yeah, right. he thought i hated him for the longest time.”

“but you made up for it,” aneko responds without missing a beat. “you literally stayed with him almost the entire time he was healing. and now, he’s back on the court doing better than ever.”

“not to mention the fact that you guys literally hang out every single day. it’s getting kind of lonely here,” sakura teases, ruffling your hair. “look, if atsumu doesn’t like you back, that just shows how much of a dick he is and is just a red flag avoided. it’s a win-win situation. you literally cannot lose.”

“she has a point, y’know,” aneko chuckles, “no matter what happens, you’d be the winner.”

“i guess so… ugh, why does this all have to be so confusing?”

“how about you tell him how you feel during his next game,” aneko suggests, pulling out her phone. “see, look, it says that they have a game next week. why don’t you tell him then?”

you nod, jumping to your feet in determination. “i can do this.”

***

you cannot do this.

there you sit on the last day of june, coincidentally also the last game of the season, palms hot and sweaty as you ruminate on whatever you’re going to do after the game is over. atsumu is performing as well as ever – sets dangerously accurate, serves powerful and as strategic as usual – and you can’t help the way your eyes are trained on him. it’s almost as if you couldn’t avert your eyes no matter how much you wanted to. even still, your heart is pounding in your chest (not because you were invested in the game) and you had half the mind to leave the stadium. only, that wasn’t an option because atsumu already spotted you in the crowd. why did you let your dumb friends convince you to do this?

the whistle sounds, bringing your out of your thoughts and you glance at the score board. 25 - 19, in favour of the jackals. both teams were filtering out of the gym as well as the spectators in the stands and you follow suit, squeezing through the throngs of people. you toss between leaving and staying again as you navigate through the crowds – maybe you can run from your problems? – only to quite literally run into your problem.

an ugly squawk escapes your lips and you cringe internally. ‘how romantic,’ you scoff to yourself sarcastically as you rub your forehead.

“oof, sorry, princess, are you okay?” atsumu steadies you in an instant, pushing your hair back to survey the damage. “no bruises?”

you let out an airy laugh. “no harm done. congrats on your win.”

he grins, winking, “anything for you, princess.” he pauses, looking you up and down. “what are you doing here?”

“nothing!” you reply quickly, and you kick yourself internally for being awkward. “uh… nothing.”

he hums in amusement, “so you only came here for the fun of it?”

you wonder how your roommates would react if you came back to the flat still single. would it be worth leaving right now? you’re only delaying the inevitable, you hear aneko’s voice in your head and you cringe because you can imagine her saying it in that disappointed motherly voice she uses. you can imagine sakura nodding beside her, giving you a look that screamed you’re a right idiot.

“i wanted to talk to you,” you find yourself saying, wringing your hands in anxiety. “you should change first. and shower.”

he throws his head back and laughs. “yeah, i’ll see you in a bit.”

a bit passes by quicker than expected with sakusa kiyoomi leaving the changing room’s first and nodding at you in respect, followed by hinata and bokuto who grin wildly and pat you on the shoulder before meeting their respective rides (you recognise one to be kageyama tobio, the setter for another volleyball team but the other is equally as attractive with dark hair and glasses framing his blue eyes). the rest of the team emerges from the showers, chattering away and obviously pumped about their win. you hear someone – their captain? – yell about drinks to which the remaining people there agree heartily, but you feel an arm rest on your shoulder.

“sorry, guys, but i have plans with this lovely lady. maybe next time!” he grins, propping his sports bag securely on his shoulder before walking you out.

“i- wait, ‘tsumu, if you have plans-”

his smile widens at the nickname and his hand moves to rest at your waist. “i do have plans! with you!”

your cheeks burn at his words and you laugh in response. you glance at him from the corner of your eye and he seems to be at ease. his hand brushes against yours for a seconds and you swallow thickly – are you reading too much into things? a breath escapes your lips as the two of you walk around the city, the moon appearing from behind some clouds as you do. for someone who was just running around wildly on a court, atsumu was certainly energetic.

“remember this place?” he asks, moving to stand between you and the road.

you only just realise your surroundings and you chuckle once you see the all too familiar street you were currently standing on. “of course i do.”

he laughs, throwing his head back, and you think it’s one of the nicest sounds you’ve ever heard.

the towering building that holds the renowned ise sueyoshi looms over the two of you, and you can’t help but feel nostalgic. the bright lights of the building shines through the windows and you can see the pale orange light against the inky blue sky. the kanji for the building is lit up in bright yellow, and you wouldn’t be surprised if the line was still long at this time of night.

a short walk later and you’re back at aoyama bridge, the cherry blossoms blowing gently through the wind. a few other people are scattered around the bridge, mostly couples holding hands save for the odd jogger or two. the walk was short – less than ten minutes – and you’re grateful for the fresh air. you rest your arms against the rails of the bridge, enjoying the cool air against your skin. atsumu stands beside you, his back against the rails and his bag on the floor.

“i wanted to talk to you,” you say finally after long moments of silence. you glance at your watch: ten minutes to midnight.

he quirks an eyebrow, turning his head to look at you fully. “what’s up?”

a breath leaves your lips as your wring your hands nervously over the railing. you look up at him with a small smile. “i like you.”

you expect him to laugh. to gloat in your face. to point and laugh and call you stupid. or maybe to run away with his tail between his legs. you expect him to stare at you in disgust and in annoyance, to roll his eyes and spit at your feet. you don’t, however, expect him to take a step towards you and cup your face with his warm calloused hands. you don’t, as much as you hoped, expect him to press his lips to yours, holding your gently as if you were porcelain. you don’t expect him to bring you closer to his chest, burying his head into your neck as he wraps his arms around your waist. but atsumu miya is full of surprises.

“i like you, too.” he mumbles, and you shiver from the way his breath brushes over the skin on your neck.

your heart is thundering in your chest and the blood rushes to your ears. “what?”

he laughs, bringing his head back up to look you in the eye. “i like you, too.”

one hand cups your cheek and the other pulls you in from your waist and he kisses you again. you pull away for air, cheeks warm and head spinning.

“yeah?”

another laugh. “of course i do, princess.” then he grins, “be my girlfriend? ya can’t say no.”

confusion enters your mind before it dawns on you. you glance at your watch – 11:59 pm. you gape at him, mouth opening and closing as you struggle to find something to say.

“i guess we both lose,” you say finally, rolling your eyes after you calm down.

he chuckles, taking your hand. “i’d say we’re both winners.”

you smile at his words. “couldn’t stand my charm, could you, miya?”

“as if!” he yells, snorting. “you fell for my charms, too!”

you stick your tongue out and swing your arms. “whatever you say, sweet cheeks.”

he kisses your cheek. “i do say, princess.”

you hum, breathing in the cool night air as you walk. “what do you think, ‘tsumu? waste of a lovely night?”

“absolutely not, princess.”

quick trivia:

ise sueyoshi: a real restaurant found in tokyo, japan. a high end restaurant that specialises in traditional japanese food.

aoyama bridge: a real bridge in tokyo, japan. approximate 9 minute walk from ise sueyoshi and is actually a tourist destination.

reblogs are always appreciated!

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lunaviee · 8 months

Text

bros the type of boyfriend to go on a shopping spree behind your back and buy you hundreds, maybe even thousands, of dollars worth of stuff all because of one thing;

“what the hell- why’d you buy all this??”

“well because i yelled at you when i shouldn’t have 2 months ago”

“..i got over that like 2 days after it happened..”

“but i didnt, this is my apology”

“you’ve apologized a million times ever since it happened what do you mean-”

REO., rin, sae, ISAGI, kaiser, itadori, GOJO, oikawa, ATSUMU, suna, CHUUYA. , tecchou,+ your fav(s)!

ohh ummm hey guyssss…..erm i’m not really back but i had this half assed thought so here u go!! also first time “writing” anything for jjk so uh sorry if it’s ooc just bear with me here

#✮ vie’s demons #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock fluff #itoshi rin x reader #reo mikage x reader #itoshi sae x reader #yoichi isagi x reader #michael kaiser x reader #jjk x reader #itadori yuuji x reader #satoru gojo x reader #haikyuu x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #miya atsumu x reader #suna rintaro x reader #bsd x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #tecchou suehiro x reader

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clubkira · 6 months

Text

DEAR FUTURE HUSBAND .ᐟ

oh future husband, better love me right!

premise. the nhk gives it’s viewers a peak into the love lives of the jnt’s lineup, interviewing the future wives of the jnt to crack the secret to a happy relationship ❤︎

content. haikyu!! jnt / f!reader. (atsumu miya, rintarou suna, wakatoshi ushijima & shoyo hinata). fluff. somewhat decent relationship advice. downbad fiancés. healthy relationships(!!). suggestive moments. petnames.

soundtrack. dear future husband : meghan trainor.

part two can be read here.

dear future husband m.list. // hq. masterlist.

ATSUMU MIYA.

“after every fight, just apologize.”

“Relationship advice?” You repeat, sitting across from the NHK interviewer, mic strapped to your shirt as a camera filmed your living room. She nods, smiling while holding a microphone of her own.

“Yes! Tell us, what is the secret to a healthy relationship?”

You tilt your head, “Well, I guess I have some advice to give.” Your fingers drum against the armrest of your couch as you sit in thought, contemplating on what to tell the reporter, “hmm..”

Atsumu sitting beside you laughs, his arm slung comfortably over your shoulder, “I have some advice I’d like to give as well.”

You turn to him with a grimace. “I don’t want any young viewers following whatever is about to come out of your mouth, ‘Tsumu.”

He looks at you offended; reeling his arm back to his side, shock spelled out all over his face. “Excuse me, I’m great at romance. I romanced you, didn’t I?”

“Unfortunately,” you jest, with Atsumu exclaiming in protest, “But this isn’t just about romancing someone, ‘Tsumu. They’re asking what makes a relationship a healthy one.”

“So?” He shrugs, “A healthy relationship is one that’s full of romance.”

“I apologize for him,” you playfully tell the interviewer, ignoring the look Atsumu gives you in response, “He’s not the best at this sorta stuff.”

She merely giggles, “No worries, the players are allowed to give their own opinions as well.” Atsumu puffs his chest out, “See, babe? She said I can talk too.”

“Yeah well, just make sure to cut out whatever he says in the final broadcast,” She lets out a snort at your jab, hiding the smile that creeps onto her face behind her microphone while Atsumu shoves your shoulder in despair.

“Awe, c’mon! I’m not that bad with relationship advice!” He pouts at you, looking like a kicked puppy when he does so, “What makes you think I’m so bad at this, do you actually want to marry me, babe?”

Your eyes soften at his saddened tone, feeling slightly guilty you link your fingers with his, eyes full of love when he smiles down at your intertwined hands.

“Of course I do, ‘Tsumu.”

The camera crew awes as you turn back to face the cameras, still holding Atsumu’s hand firmly in your own, running your thumb over the smooth cut diamond ring studded band he wears on his ring finger.

“The advice I have to give viewers is; Apologize when you are wrong,” you tell the interviewer, “No matter your pride, no amount will replace your relationship. It’s never worth sacrificing your loved one just for the sake of winning an argument.”

“Uh huh, you’re one to talk about that, babe,” Atsumu rolls his neck, “You never apologize first, it’s always me who has to for you to talk to me again.”

“What are you talking about?” You look at him confused, “I’m the one who initiates the apology conversations, you’re the stubborn one out of us.”

“Nuh-uh.”

You groan, “Exactly.”

Atsumu pulls his hand out of yours, placing it on your thigh instead before facing the cameras. “But, she is right. Do not ever choose a winning an argument over your partner. It ends badly.”

“You would know,” you snort, “You give me the longest silent treatments until I coax you out of it with kisses.”

“Can we cut that out of the broadcast, please?”

You purse your lips to hide the oncoming smile until Atsumu leans forward, a handsome grin on his face as he looks directly into the rolling cameras with a newfound confidence.

“But, y’know. I do always apologize in the end, ‘cause my girl’s never wrong.”

RINTAROU SUNA.

“make time for her.”

“You see this girl?” Suna jabs a thumb in your direction from across the kitchen, leaning against the marble island lazily as the camera team nods. “Yeah, she gets constipated if I don’t give her enough attention.”

Your head perks up immediately as you shoot him a halfhearted glare, “Do not.”

“See, she’s doing it right now.” He ignores, drinking from his glass of water before setting it down on the counter, ignoring the little gasp you let out at his actions.

Rolling your eyes, you smack his arm before sliding a coaster under his drink, “Don’t scratch the marble, Rinnie. I just bought this island.”

The camera team silently giggles at the short interactions between you two, with Suna sticking his tongue out at you and in response you give him a middle finger before he turns back to face them, “Can you believe her?”

Scoffing, you enter the camera frame beside him, “Don’t bring them into this, Rinnie.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“I’m your fiancée.”

Suna opens his mouth to argue before shutting it promptly, “Good point.”

One of the crew members holds a sign from behind the cameras, indicating to get the interview back on topic. “Why would you ever ask her for relationship advice?” Suna chuckles, “I was the one who made the first move.”

“The interview is for the fiancée’s of the JNT, Mr. Suna,” the interviewer reminds him, “But the players are welcome to voice their own opinions as well.”

Suna stretches his arm behind his back with a yawn, a sliver of his abdomen peeking out from underneath his home shirt before disappearing quickly, “Well in that case, allow me to voice this opinion—”

You slap a hand over his mouth before he can begin, “Nope, didn’t you hear them? This is my interview, Rinnie.”

“Buhf dey shaid I can shpeak too, affhole." Suna glares from behind your hand, removing it from his mouth with a groan. “Did you even wash your hand? Tastes gross.”

“Why did you lick my hand?”

“We’ve done freakier things than that and that’s what you’re worried about?”

Your words get lodged in your throat, sputtering out hurriedly, “This is going on T.V, Rinnie!”

He looks to you with a smug smile, “Yeah, and I can’t wait to rewatch this interview and see your reaction again later.”

Your fists clench momentarily before taking a deep breath, relaxing yourself and facing the cameras with a smile. “Anyways, some relationship advice I’d give to anyone watching; make time for your spouse.”

Suna nods along to your words, “Mhm, I think that’s the most important thing in a relationship.”

“Shut up, Rinnie.”

“Ouch,” he fakes a stab through his heart, monotonous eyes but a playful grin on his lips. “I talk for two seconds and you tell your dear fiancé to shut up?”

You shake your head towards him jokingly, continuing to talk to the interviewer, “A healthy relationship means you spend time with your loved ones, and your spouse should be the most loved person in your life.”

The reporter nods, “I see, I see, what do you suggest to our viewers the best ways to spend quality time with their lover?”

“In bed.” Suna chimes in immediately, earning another smack on the shoulder from you. “What?” He looks at you with a knowing grin, “Oh, you— I didn’t mean like that, oh my god you’re sooo dirty minded.”

He chuckles, “I meant like cuddling, laying in bed together, watching movies. Y’know, wholesome things.”

“Nothing is wholesome with you,” you exasperate, speaking from personal experience. “But yes, those are great ways to spend times with your lover. They’re good times to bond with them, or just relax and unwind after a long day.”

“Yeah, after a gruelling day of practice, it’s nice to come home and lay in her arms,” Suna motions to you before leaning his head on your shoulder, his grin now replaced with a small but gentle smile. “She’s all I want to see after practice.”

“Wow,” you tease, leaning your head atop his, “and where did you learn to be so smooth, hm? Are you just playing it up for the cameras, Rinnie?”

Suna snickers, hands crossed over his chest relaxed, “I would never,” he says before mumbling close to your ear.

“I just, really like to spend time with you.”

WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA.

“treat her like a lady.”

“My fiancé is out right now at the gym,” you inform the NHK station crew, their camera men follow you inside your house for the opening shots of the broadcast. “Make yourselves comfortable while you wait.”

The interviewer settles himself on a seat at your dining table as you reach for the vase of flowers atop, moving into the kitchen to pour the old water out of their vase, careful to not spill any over your kitchen counter as you refill the container with fresh water from your tap.

Refreshing the water, you carefully place the flowers back into their vase before rearranging them neatly, coming back out of the kitchen to place them back on your table and adjusting them accordingly as the interviewer watches amazed.

“Those flowers are very lovely,” he notes softly, almost as if any louder of a volume would disturb the plants, “Did you fiancé happen to get them for you?”

You smile, “yes, he did,” recalling the first time he got you a bouquet, on your first date many years ago.

“‘Toshi knows I love flowers.”

The soft click of the lock to your house causes you to perk your head up in familiarity, the frame of your fiancé’s figure coming into view as you see him placing his shoes down beside your door before coming inside.

“Welcome home, dear,” you call out to him from the kitchen, one of the camera crew’s members break off to film your fiancé as he enters the home. He drops his gym bag to the floor beside your couch, removing his jacket and hanging it on your coatrack before passing through the halls of your shared home to get to you.

Ushijima shuffles his way into the kitchen, passing by the camera crew and approaching you from behind, hugging you as his hands are wrap around your stomach, head dropping into the crook of your shoulder.

You lean into his touch, his freshly showered hair smells of the shampoo the two of you use.

“Are you showing them the flowers I got you?” He asks, eying the pretty arrangement of flowers on the table. The cameras zoom in to take a closer shot at the flowers, noting the vibrancy of the colours and the lack of thorns adorning the stems.

You and the reporter nod, Ushijima lets a small smile settle on his face. “She told me they were her favourites,” he tells the reporter.

“Hm,” he hums before turning to you, microphone extending outwards. “is that your relationship advice for the viewers then? Giving your loved one gifts?”

You shake your head quickly, “Oh, no! No, that’s not my advice— Of course, do get your partner gifts if you know they’ll enjoy them.” Ushijima straightens up, hands snaking around your waist to stand beside you as the cameras pan out to record the both of you in the same shot.

“‘Toshi just really likes to get me little things,” you smile, reminicing on all the times your eyes barely glazed over something in a store front before he was scrambling inside the shop to buy it for you, despite your pleas.

“But gifts do not have to be expensive,” You reassure the viewers again, “just little trinkets that remind you of your partner will be enough.”

Ushijima nods before lifting your hand up to the camera, showing off the engagement ring with a large diamond displayed proudly atop it. “Yes, but I do like to splurge when it comes to her.”

You retract your hand quickly, warily eying your fiancé, “‘Toshi! Don’t make the viewers think they need to buy people’s happiness with expensive gifts!”

His head tilts unsurely, “My love, do you not like the ring I got you?”

“I-I do! When did I ever say I didn’t?”

His eyes crinkle slightly in concern, “Then why are you hiding our engagement ring from the viewers?”

“Because,” you sigh, “I don’t want young, inexperienced lovers to think they need something like a huge, flashy engagement ring to be loved by someone.”

“But you deserve the best,” he rebuffs, “There is nothing I wouldn’t buy for you if you asked.”

“‘Toshi.. this isn’t really helping our case…”

The reporter turns to Ushijima, “Even though this is a special for the JNT fiancées, the players are allowed to give their own insight.” He informs your soon-to-be husband, “Do you have anything else to add for our viewers?”

Ushijima thinks for a moment, silent in thought as you look to your fiancé, and the sight of his matching engagement ring twinkling under the bright studio lights filling your home catches your eye all too quickly.

“Do you have anything you want to say, ‘Toshi?” You nudge his shoulder slightly when he continues to remain quiet, an encouraging smile on your lips.

He nods, bringing the hand with your ring on it before giving the intricately cut diamond a kiss, his piercing eyes gazing deep into yours, causing your face to heat up fervently at his wolfish grin.

“Treat your partner the best that you can, like the lady she is and deserves to be treated as.”

SHOYO HINATA.

“don’t forget your anniversaries!”

Shoyo’s leg bounces feverishly as the reporter speaks to you casually, unable to contain his excitement at being asked to join you for this broadcasted interview special.

His grin is wide, beaming whenever you sneak small glances at him whenever the reporter looks down at their cue cards of start up questions to ease into the conversation, before the real topic is brought up.

“Do you have any relationship advice for our viewers?”

You’re about to speak until Shoyo interrupts you, quite literally flying out of his seat while brightly smiling as his hand grasps yours with a tight grip, “I do, I do!”

The reporter chortles, smiling at his tactics, “Thank you, Mr. Hinata. But this interview is specifically for your fiancée.” Shoyo’s face sullens lightly until he speaks again, “But you’re allowed to give your own thoughts when she’s done.”

Shoyo slumps back into his seat dejectedly as you rub his back comfortingly, “Sorry, Sho. But just let me speak first, okay?” His pout is replaced instantaneously at your words with the usual smile he holds when around you, “Alright, baby!”

You look towards the reporter, hand still clasped in Shoyo’s securely. “Here is my advice for a healthy relationship; Don’t forget your anniversaries.”

Your fiancé’s mouth hangs open in shock at your words, head whipping to face you with a hearty laugh, “That’s what I was going to say!”

The look of shock that spreads across your face amuses him, staring at you expectantly for a few moments before you too erupt into laughter, shoulders shaking in surprise as the two of you cling to each other for support, with Shoyo nearly falling off the couch with how hard he cackles.

He clings onto your shoulder to stop himself from tumbling, which in turn causes you to laugh harder as you try to pull him back up as Shoyo calls out for you to ‘save him’.

“Baby, I’m falling!” Shoyo shrieks while howling with laughter, “Grab my hand!”

“You’re already grabbing my hand, Sho!”

Cameras stationed around your living room pan to zoom in on Shoyo’s joyful face when he fools around with you, the grip he still holds on your hand as clear as day as you jokingly attempt to rescue his bumbling self.

The out of frame reporter looks to the two of you happily, the fact that you both seem so absorbed in each other and have forgotten about the interview portion of the broadcast is surprisingly heartwarming for both the crew and the viewers watching the broadcast.

Once the two of you manage to calm down, you shyly look back to the NHK crew with a timid smile.

“Sorry,” you apologize to your interviewer, coughing as you try to hold back another bout of laughter when you catch Shoyo smiling at you again, attempting to contain his giggles. “We got a little- uhm, carried away.”

“It’s no problem,” the reporter chuckles, “I can see the two of you are very much in love, so is that the advice you wish to tell our viewers on how your relationship with each other is so healthy?”

You and Shoyo nod simultaneously, “Yeah, don’t you ever forget your partner’s anniversaries!!” Shoyo sternly but playfully warns the viewers, “I’m serious, guys! Anniversaries are important!”

“What anniversaries should our viewers be aware of when it comes to their lovers?”

This time you speak up, “Well, the major and most well known ones of course,” you begin, listing off the ones you can recall at the moment.

“For example; first month together, first year spent as a couple, birthdays could also count I suppose—”

“Did you know I proposed to her on our fifth anniversary?” Shoyo interrupts excitedly, the same happy and bright smile on his face shining when he proudly pulls up his hand to show off the ring on his finger, “I was so caught up in the moment, I forgot to put the ring on her finger after she accepted!”

Recalling that memory brings warmth to your cheeks, “Yeah, he literally forgot about the ring in the box until I asked him about it later.”

“But in any case,” you circle back to original topic at hand, noticing the way Shoyo’s smile dampens a little when you switch back so quickly as you shoot him an apologetic smile, you don’t want to waste the reporter’s and NHK crew’s time any longer.

“Don’t forget your anniversaries, people! They’re a big deal for a ton of lovers!”

“Th-that’s right!” Shoyo piggybacks off your response, “And if you do forget, you better apologize a lot!”

The reporter nods, turning their attention to your fiancé. “And do you have any final thoughts for our viewers on how you maintain a healthy relationship with your fiancée, Mr. Hinata?”

Shoyo smiles deviously at the open ended question he’s been dying to answer this whole time; his hand creeping teasingly up your thigh to the small of your back as he leans in real close to you with a knowing wink, the flushed expression displayed on your face at his actions encourages him even more to continue.

His eyes glint with amusement, the mischievous grin on his lips is firm even in front of several strangers and cameras rolling in real time, footage of his behaviour being broadcasted to the entirety of Japan this very second.

And without shame or guilt, Shoyo smirks.

“Make your anniversary nights real special for her, trust me on that one.”

reblogs are appreciated .ᐟ ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

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ghostlygeto · 29 days

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warnings: fem!reader, tsum loves his gf (you), never tell atsumu i wrote this about him, cutesy<3

atsumu miya who hates it when people say to you “oh you’re atsumu’s girlfriend!” or refer to you as just “atsumu’s girlfriend” instead of your name.

atsumu miya who thinks you’re the best thing to ever happen to him, so if he’s around to hear it he always takes over the conversation.

“actually, i’m ‘er boyfriend.” atsumu gave girl in front of you a sickeningly fake smile. he didn’t miss the confused look on their face as they processed what he said. “isn’t that the same thing?” atsumu loved when they asked that question, because then he got to talk about his favorite thing: you. “nah,” he shook his head, glancing quickly between you and the poor strange that did this to herself. “she deserves to be known fer more than jus’ bein’ m’girlfriend. but ‘m just some dude she puts up with.” atsumu knew he was underselling himself (and you thought he was overselling you), but still meant every word he said. “could lose m’entire career tomorrow ‘nd i wouldn’t care s’long as she’s still there.” atsumu beamed now, a real smile. he didn’t care about the way the girl just mumbled an “okay?” before walking away, but he did care about the look on your face right after. “do you have to do that every time someone calls me your girlfriend?” you frown, grabbing onto his hand that he so kindly held out for you. “doesn’t it get tiring to tell people all that?” “could never get tired of talkin’ ‘bout ya.” atsumu leaned in to dramatically kiss you on the cheek, laughing as your shove him away. “could listen to yer laugh forever.” “shut up.”

atsumu miya who, at the end of the day, doesn’t really care who’s know for what — he’s just happy he gets to have you by his side.

#mine !!#atsumu miya x reader #atsumu miya fluff #haikyuu fluff #atsumu x reader #atsumu fluff #haikyuu x reader

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sunaluv · 1 year

Note

more "come get your man"❗❗ with some more haikyuu boys maybe but honestly? whoever you want 🙏

i got u 😉

part 1 here

pairings: osamu, atsumu, kuroo

OSAMU

onigiri miya was due to close in the next two minutes. you watched your boyfriend close up the counter from your spot on the stool. you liked sitting in when his shop was empty like this, it felt kinda…domestic.

it triggered your thoughts on the future with the hotter twin (in your opinion), you could see yourself walking down the alter to meet him, eating on the floors of your unfurnished home, him standing behind you whilst you rocked your child to sleep—

“hey samu what should i do with these!” you almost rolled your eyes at the voice shouting from the kitchen.

osamu had explained to you how he hired one of his friends from high school to work for him as a favour. she had just finished getting her degree and was looking for work in the area.

you didn’t mind, you were secure in your relationship so there was no reason to be pissed. that was until you had met her and introduced yourself to her as his girlfriend. like a switch had flipped, she instantly started to openly show her hatred for you behind sugar coated insults and not so subtle faces she made only when your boyfriend was out of sight.

you watched osamu’s chest expand in a deep breath. he ran his fingers through his disheveled hair before flipping his cap back on, pecking your temple before heading to the back. “i’ll go see what she wants then we’ll leave, ‘kay?”

you nodded and packed your bag, leaving your space clear and waiting by the counter for your man.

a whole five minutes had passed. you haven’t heard anything which was a sign that you should go investigate, given that girls record.

“…i thought we had a rule for customers showing up before closing time.” a hushed voice whispered.

“we do, there’s no customers here.”

“so who’s still sat out front, you always do this sam—”

ahem.

two faces looked to your spot at the door opening. one looking guilty, one relieved.

“you ready to go samu?” you asked sweetly. “it’s been five minutes and it’s movie night, you know i’m dying to catch up on our franchise.” you not so subtly bragged.

he breathed out through a chuckle. “of course baby, sorry for the hold up. i’m done here anyways.” he walked towards you, missing the dropped jaw of his employee.

you wrapped your arm around his waist before you left, not before smirking at the red-faced girl who was shaking in anger? sadness? embarrassment? you didn’t care.

your shoulders dropped at the chime of the bell followed by the nights breeze as you began your comfortably silent walk home.

“you’re cute when you stake your claim on me ya know?” osamu flicked your forehead.

“shaddap.” you retorted. “if she doesn’t understand boundaries i’ll set them.”

ATSUMU

atsumu was a textbook example of a frat boy. the parties, the girls, the popularity, the girls.

the only stereotype he’s not playing into is dating the leader of the girls sorority house, and some people felt like he’s doing it all wrong.

“omg hi! welcome to—” the cheery voice dripped upon seeing you at the door. “the boys house, who do you know here?”

the girl you recognised as the sorority house leader shamelessly eyes you up and down, twirling the ends of her blonde hair.

if she was here, the rest of the girls were too. they did everything as a culty pack: traveling, partying and even dating. you always thought it was weird how they were all paired with a frat boy, but you never said anything. maybe to them at least.

they obviously hated you for being a rock in their river.

“i’m here for atsumu,” your brow quirked.

her face hardened before plastering into a plastic smile.

“sorry ya just missed him! maybe if you go to—”

“BABY IS THAT YOU!?” a loud, excited voice belonging to your boyfriend shouted.

looking over her shoulder, you watched his blonde locks fly with the wind as he shoved past the girl who let out a disheartened gasp, and picked you up before picking you up and twirling you around.

“i missed you so much,” his soft lips continuously pressed against your face before pouring all his emotion into one last kiss on your lips.

“i missed you too tsum,” you giggled “i was only gone a week though.”

“a week to long! come i have so much to catch you up on.”

again ignoring the fuming girl who had watched the whole interaction, he damn near dragged you up the stairs past all his frat bros who you made sure to shout a greeting at as you passed.

you could hear the rest of the girls from the sorority comforting the girl who was now crying, talkin bout ‘he’ll come around, you two are destined to be together. but you didn’t care, you knew atsumu knew about his rep as a frat bro and he has explained to you about how much he doesn’t care about the ‘dumb stereotypes’ and ‘he likes what he likes, and thats you’.

“you know she likes you right?”

“does she, i thought the only reason she wants me that bad is so their matchup can be completed…”

“that’s part of it, but i feel like she genuinely likes you…” you trailed.

“hey, hey,” he held your cheeks tuning your focus on him. “i don’t care about all that okay? i’m yours and yours alone”

you nodded, placing your hands over his.

“now,” he pulled out his phone going straight to the photos app “let me show ya all you’ve missed.”

KUROO

“tetsuro stopppp,” the girl who had been partnered with your boyfriend for a science project whacked his arm playfully. “omg girl tell your boyfriend to stop.”

you looked at her, then him, then back at her. “stop being a bitch tetsuro.” you played into her antics, drawing out his name like she did.

“not like that, you don’t need to be mean. it was literally a joke.” she mumbled.

kuroo’s eyes met your rolling ones across the table as he shrugged.

“so what are you guys doing after this,” she asked the both of you, but stared at kuroo.

you had explained how you were going to the mall after, so they should probably finish up so you can make it soon.

“you’re going on a date? that’s so cuuuute, there’s actually this really cute place we saw together when—”

“i’ll be right back. toilet.” kuroo stated tensely, sending you an apologetic look as he saw your panicked expression. the both of you knew what her intentions were.

she watched him leave, all the way until the toilet door closed then she turned to you. “can i be real with you a sec, have a heart to heart you know as a fellow sister.”

she didn’t let you respond before she spoke out. “i highkey think tetsu deserves better, he seems really tense around you and i know your dating or whatever but i feel like i could treat him better. i know him.”

woahwoahwoahwhat.

“no.”

“no?”

“no!” you took a deep breath in, before calling her name. “i know you like him, you haven’t even respected me or him enough to hide it. but if you really loved him or knew him, you would know how uncomfortable he feels with you openly flirting with him while he’s in a committed relationship.”

your words hit her like a truck. “you’re not listening to me,” she reached for your hands across the table which you retracted before she could reach. “he needs someone like me, i’m not trying to diss you but you dress kinda bland, your not in many classes together, he doesn’t even talk about you all that often.”

“i do when you overstep, but otherwise i’m just trying to do my work and leave.”

she turned around to see her dear tetsu, arms folded, hurt look on his face. you knew he didn’t like confrontation, so he must have been feeling a strong type of way for him to talk like this.

“tetsu—”

“kuroo.”

“tetsuro,” she stood up placing an arm on his arm which made him step back. “please just come to me, you know we’ll be good together too…”

noticing your boyfriends drastically increased discomfort, you stepped in. “i think you’ve done enough,” you put yourself between the two of them.

wordlessly, you took his larger hand in yours and left the library. after checking up on him, the two of you decided to have a home date instead.

“thanks for stepping in by the way” his voice came out small.

you squeezed his hand. “anything for you tetsu”

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emmyrosee · 5 months

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My widdle Hisako baby 🥺🩷

Atsumu hates after game interviews.

It’s part of his job of course, but he’s not the captain, his just the star setter for one of the best teams in the league; he’s also a father of a toddler, who, when he can after a home game, wants to get home to read her a bedtime story and be with the beautiful mother of his child.

Right now, however, he wants to chuck all of that out the window, as you’re off in the corner snickering with Kiyoomi while Hisako in her fathers lap pulls his lips and chin, interrupting every answer with a grab or a giggle or a bite of his fingers.

“You’re cruel,” Kiyoomi whispers to you.

You shrug in indifference, “he wanted to spend more time with her after the game. Not my fault they picked him for postgame.”

“You’re cruel,” he repeats, and the gods must be listening because on stage, Atsumu repeats the same thing when Hisako fish hooks his lip.

This time, it’s Atsumu’s turn to tell Hisako “you’re cruel” and it has the crowd in a tizzy. You cover your mouth to laugh quietly, and you get a nudge from Kiyoomi in response.

A massive frame stalks past you both, and you stick your leg out to playfully kick him, "hey, Captain."

Meian grins and sends you a wink, "hey, Mrs. Miya."

"Good game."

"I'd say so," he nudges his head towards Atsumu at the table. "He played well."

"He always does."

“Is there anything that you hope to achieve next game?” A reporter asks, snapping you all back into focusing the interview at hand.

Atsumu sighs softly, “I guess I just want to repeat the momentum, keep it from getting sloppy and-“

“Shugu?”

All heads turn towards Hisako, Atsumu’s smiling down at her. “Shugo?”

“Shugu!” Her tiny hand points off stage a few feet away, at the captain just outside the frame.

Meian beams, "guess that's my cue."

“Yeah, Shugo just left,” he chuckles. “She loves Meian. More than she loves me-“

Quickly, Meian comes bouncing back on the stage, wasting no time in formalities before scooping Hisako up in his big, burly arms. He bites at her cheeks while she squeals and flails her limbs, squealing and laughing while the crowd coos in adoration. Atsumu’s beaming as he watches his captain carry his favorite person out, and it almost makes you tear up from the sight of so many people positively adoring your little girl.

Kiyoomi claps a big hand on your shoulder, trying to ground you and your emotions. “He’s a good dad.”

“He’s the best dad.”

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reverie-starlight · 8 months

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sweet little atsumu ramble/rant/HC-but-not-really-cause-this-has-to-be-canon thing bc I adore him and need him stat and I miss writing for my husband.

he would absolutely love the pet name angel. the first time you call him that, he gets SOOO shy after. he's blushing and smiling so wide, letting out a little laugh and hiding his face in your neck because it caught him off guard...

you call him angel once and he is immediately a pile of mush in your arms. osamu could insult him and this supposedly intimidating 6'2'', confrontational pro athlete's only defense would be "well your opinion doesn't matter actually, cause my baby said I was an angel this morning, so suck it, you bastard"

cue an exasperated sigh from his twin. like, he is such a big baby, it's crazy.

he'd be most appreciative of the nickname when you're both cuddling in bed and he's in your arms, a hand carding through his hair. it's bliss for him.

and you'd better believe that he gets hellbent on making sure that he makes you feel the same way you make him feel with a nickname, so he's testing out a whole bunch of them until he finds the one that turns you into mush.

I'm gonna be sick I love him so much.

#this was better in my head at 6 am when I was sleep deprived and heading to the bus stop #atsumu x reader #atsumu fluff #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader fluff #atsumu x reader fluff #atsumu drabble

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chimielie · 7 months

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cw f!reader , mild fraternal violence , atsumu’s terrible lying skills

“I know something you don’t know,” Osamu singsongs, standing in the doorway of their shared bathroom and peering over his brother’s shoulder at his reflection in the mirror.

“Yeah?” Atsumu grunts, yanking a comb through his hair and glaring back at his twin. “Spit it out, shitty ‘Samu. I got places to be, you know?”

“Ouch, don’t shoot the messenger,” Osamu drawls, leaning against the doorframe. “I know that you have a date tonight and you think you’re being sneaky about it.”

“Do not,” Atsumu scowls immediately, dropping the comb and turning around, because he is the worst liar ever. “I don’t even—what are you—I’m taking myself on a date, how about that, it’s called self care, ever heard of it? Huh? Okay? Huh?”

“Okay,” Osamu says, “You’re wearing a tie.”

“I can wear a tie if I want to,” Atsumu sneers, fiddling with it.

“Last summer, at Uncle Jun’s wedding, Ma had to literally threaten to shave your head to get you to wear one.”

“I’m a man now,” Atsumu sticks his chin up, examining his jaw. “I can wear a tie. Hey, did I miss anything while I was shaving?”

“You don’t have any facial hair to shave. And you have a hickey right there.”

“What? Seriously? Where?” Atsumu panics, turning back and forth.

“Ha, I got you—hey!!! Don’t hit me, asshole! I’ll tell Ma!!! And you—you left your fucking bouquet out on my desk, by the way. I told you to stop putting your stuff—no I swear I’ll kill you get offa me get off!—on my desk just because yours is too messy!”

“It was there for five seconds! You left all your laundry on my bed the other day—“

“Where was I s’posed to put it, the floor?”

“Your closet!” Atsumu roars. “Oh, shit, what time is it?” He drops his brother’s shirt collar abruptly.

“5:30,” Osamu says, dusting himself off. “What time you gotta be there?”

“She’s walkin’ over here now, probably,” Atsumu says, rushing back to the bathroom. “Fuck, well since you know, can I use your cologne?”

“It’s the same one you have?”

“It’s better, I don’t know,” Atsumu argues. “Just gimme it, it’s like one spritz.”

“Fine,” Osamu grumbles. “Hey, ‘Tsumu, I know something else you don’t know.”

“What,” Atsumu rolls his eyes as he walks around, frantically shoving his keys and wallet into his pockets, picking up the bouquet—delicate red and white flowers, not bad, scrub, thinks Osamu.

“This ain’t your first date,” he says smugly.

“What are you, Sherlock Holmes?” His brother says. “How d’you figure that?”

Osamu mock-stretches before counting off on his fingers. “One, you never walk home with me and Suna anymore. Two, there’s some flowery shit that appeared in our shower, and I know I didn’t buy it, and you’re not walkin’ around smelling like lavender and honey, so you’ve gotta be sneakin’ someone in. Three, you came to practice two weeks ago with an actual hickey, y’know, when you kept missing sets ‘cause you were in such a good mood.”

Atsumu blinks at him, finally lost for words.

“And,” Osamu says, tone somewhat gentler. “You seem a lot happier lately. Less, y’know, hard on yourself. Whoever it is, I think she’s good for you.”

“Thanks,” Atsumu says, swallowing roughly. “You’re so sappy.”

“Says the guy holding the flowers.” And trying not to let his eyes water over, but Osamu doesn’t say that bit. He can spare some of his brother’s dignity.

“It’s our six-month anniversary,” Atsumu says quietly. “Please don’t tell Ma yet, okay? She’s always on about volleyball bein’ enough of a distraction from school, I know she thinks dating is too. I just wanna—I want her to like my—”

He says your name just as the doorbell rings.

“Her? You’re dating—?” Osamu’s tone is incredulous. “Hold on, you can’t go yet. She’s like a million times out of your league—”

“I know!” Atsumu beams at him. “Keep your mouth shut or you’ll regret it. Tell Ma I’m sleeping at the dorms with Suna. Bye!”

#shorts!#haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq!! x reader #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu!! fluff #haikyuu!! x reader fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader fluff #hq x reader fluff #atsumu fluff #miya atsumu fluff #atsumu x reader fluff #miya atsumu x reader fluff #hq!! x reader fluff

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sassycheesecake · 4 months

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- ATSUMU MIYA, TŌRU OIKAWA, KŌTARŌ BOKUTO, Shōyō Hinata, Tobio Kageyama, LEV HAIBA, Satori Tendō, SHŪGO MEIAN, KIYOOMI SAKUSA

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ilylovelyz · 9 months

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⍣ ೋ the times they cried because of you

☆ includes ushijima, iwaizumi, atsumu, kageyama, bokuto

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI — he never cries. you met this guy when the two of you were young freshman in high-school, and you quickly became a good friend of his. that being said, you never saw him cry. even when the two of you began dating in your senior year, you still never did. years passed, and it was the same as the previous years. sure, he occasionally got upset, but even then, he still put on a stoic display, never really letting you in on that side of him. even at your wedding, he sure showed some emotion but he didn't cry. then came the birth of your first child.

"she's so cute, isn't she 'toshi..?" you said weakly, forehead still damp with sweat, bodu trembling with the aftershocks of your hard, long labor. your eyes fluttered open, focusing on the sight of your dear wakatoshi holding your newborn baby.

your heart fluttered at the soft image of your husband holding the tiny baby closely again his chest, his forehead mere inches away from the baby's forehead. it was barely there, barely noticeable. if it weren't for the reflection of light, then you wouldn't have been able to see the way his eyes were glazed over, corners red, tears brimming at the borderlines of his eyes.

he was so memorized, so in love with this product of you, this product of his and your love. god, you just make him the happiest guy on earth.

with a grunt, he sniffled lightly, trying to mask his emotions. "yeah.."

IWAIZUMI HAJIME — he hates crying. but being the responsible and knowing person he is, he knows that crying is inevitable. but the "strong", reliable guy in him wants to punch himself every-time he feels his eyes sting at the feel of salty tears brimming at his waterline. unbeknownst to you, he would avoid you every-time he felt like he was going to cry, usually hiding in the locked confides of the bathroom. he thought he was hiding it well, until one fateful day where it all came crashing down..

"haji?" you said on the other side of the door. he immediately shot up, his eyes darting to the doorknob. he always made sure to lock it, but today, he was just so exhausted and down that the idea of a lock was forgotten. crap, "hey wait-," before he could even rise up from his slouched kneeling position on the bathtub's side, you opened the door unknowingly. "i just need my–hajime?"

there he was, in all of his fucking glory, hunched over, his face long and clearly expressing his hurt feelings. his heart fell to his stomach, his vision going cloudy as his day just kept getting worse. "hajime?" you called out once more, only your tone had softened, more light and tender. you reached a hand out to him, eyes full of concern. he couldn't help but jolt away from your hand, eyebrows furrowing at your softness.

he didn't like your tone. why are you looking at him like that? like some sad kicked puppy lost in the middle of nowhere? it made him feel so small, so weak. "haji.. are you okay?" you whispered, crouching down to his level outside of the bathtub. you attempted yet again to touch the side of his face, lightly pressing your fingertips against his cheekbone before fully pressing your palm against the side of his face.

his lips trembled as he was just a second away from breaking down, his eyes locked on a single object as to hold on to the last of his will. you sighed softly at his resistance, of course he wouldn't want to cry in front of you, but you don't understand why, afterall, what makes a person weak for crying? "it's okay, hajime."

with that, fat tears finally ran down his cheeks, his eyes shutting close as he finally broke at your words. he could only grab onto your hand as you climbed into the tub, his head going straight into your chest as he sobbed and wailed.

MIYA ATSUMU — surprisingly, you've seen this guy cry many of times before. he cried when getting accepted into nationals, winning nationals, just crying at things any normal person would do. but he never cried for you. no, he held himself to higher standards. he'd never cry for someone, not even for you. yeah, he loved you, but he wasn't about to cry for someone like a little child. all high and mighty, he never thought you would actually have an affect on him like you do now. him being someone who wears his heart proudly on his sleeve, he found himself getting into an argument late at night with you, too prideful to back down.

"are you serious atsumu?! you know i'd never do that!" you yelled, voice hoarse and scratchy due to the ongoing screaming match between you and your boyfriend. "oh really?! then why were ya' 'll over that fucker earlier? huh?!" he yelled back, pointing out the way you were seemingly flirting with a guy at the club earlier.

but you weren't? you would never do that, you're not a scum. "what?! we were just talking?! am i not allowed to TALK to people atsumu?" you scoffed, arms crossing defensively. "if you wanna consider talking as flirting, then let's talk about that girl you were laughing with the other day? huh? let's talk about that!"

his eyebrow raised at your counter, fumbling nervously as he wondered what to say. "w-wh- you know what?! fuck you! i don't know why i'm even dating a bitch like you!" he said, almost immediately regretting his words when he saw the way your eye's widened at his harsh words. the apartment was finally silent as you registered his words, he wishes you had any sort of expression on your face, but you had nothing but a stoic and emotionless face.

"okay then," you finally said, arching your eyebrow in a taunting way, resting your hand down on your hip. "bye." you followed, grabbing your bag and your keys, turning your back on him.

he watched, frozen in his spot as you exited out the apartment with your composure. his body jolted when he heard the slam of the front door, finally letting out that breath he was unknowingly holding. he scoffed at what you said, clenching his jaw tightly as he tried to hold onto his pride. "damn it." he said.

he felt the tear roll down his cheek before he could even register that he was crying. "..damn it!"

KAGEYAMA TOBIO — to him, life is volleyball. his childhood consisted nothing of volleyball, and so will his adulthood. maybe his obsession with volleyball was a little extreme, but you never really minded. he respected you greatly for your patience, he wasn't dumb, he knew that his priority of volleyball was evident, so he always tried to make it up to you by spending time with you whenever you wanted. but it seemed like after awhile, he began to take your patience for granted. it wasn't until the nth time when he didn't show up for the nth date was when he realized.

kageyama was careful to shut the front door as quiet as he could, tiptoeing as he took off his shoes and walked throughout the dark hallways and into the master-bedroom. he jolted like a cat when he sat you sitting up on the side of the bed, back facing the doorway.

"y-you scared me. what are you doing up at this time? it's nearly 10PM." he stuttered obliviously. it was silent for a few seconds before you sighed, slowly turning your head to face him. "you forgot." you muttered before turning back to look at the wall. forgot? forgot what? it was then he noticed the way your hair was done, still clad in a pretty dress.

"o-oh.. the date! i-i'm sorry y/n, i promise i can make it up to you"— "don't bother." you interrupted, voice stern yet monotonous. what do you mean 'don't bother?' you love going on dates don't you? his lips pursed into a straight line, chewing on his bottom lips nervously. "w-what do you mean? i really promise, this thursday i have a free day.." he trailed off when you suddenly stood up from the bed.

"i mean that i think we should break up." his heart dropped at your words, eyes widening. break up? his mouth was agape, mind spinning with different solutions and apologies. before he could detest, you walked over to the corner of the room, pulling up a suitcase that he didn't even notice.

"b-but why? you said yourself that me and you are meant to be together?" he cried out, quickly rushing over to your side and grabbing onto your wrist. he watched your face closely, eyes taking note of every single feature of yours. you inhaled deeply, still refusing to look at him.

"i said that when we were in high-school and didn't have any major responsibilities. things have changed, we aren't in high-school any more. you're now a pro-volleyball player with big responsibilities, and i'm.. someone who clearly has too much time on their hands, wasting it on someone who can't give me any of theirs. it's not your fault, kageyama, but we just don't align anymore."

you finally said, tugging your hand away from his grasp. before you could take a step, his hands were once again on you, gripped onto your shoulders, forcing you to look at him. "but.. you said you would be there for my game at nationals.." he whimpered out, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

it was then, when you were finally walking out of his apartment, out of his life, was when he finally did realize, that maybe, he did take your patience for granted..

BOKUTO KOUTARO — this guy cries a lot. he's cried so many times you might have to start writing it down somewhere. he rarely masks his emotions, he's an open book. thats what you love so much about him, that he's so open and honest. you love the way he's so eager and sweet, you love the way he's always willing to talk to you and so damn clingy it's like you have your own personal koala. aside from the times he's happy, he's sad, sad because he didn't perform well, or because you didn't kiss him. but you never really made him cry, you'd never do that. or so you thought.

"y/n!! i missed you!" you hear a booming voice yell, his footsteps speeding up at the sight you. he paid no mind when you didn't respond to him, as you were currently hunched over the your work desk, laptop gleaming at you brightly. your back was turned to him, so you were basically calling him for a back hug.

"y/n!" — "not now koutaro." you interrupted, tone serious and stern. he raised his eyebrows at you with surprise, his arms a few inches away from your shoulders as they stilled in their preparation to hug you. "babe? is something wrong?" he asked curiously, lips pouting at your stern denial. you never decline a hug. you love them. right?

"i'm working. can't you see that?" you spit out, sighing deeply. you pull away your cramping fingers away from your keyboard, rubbing them over your sore eyes. "my gosh." you mumble under your breath, eyebrows intensely furrowed with stress. you had been working for a few hours straight, staring at nothing but a bright screen with words that were becoming incoherent to you.

you yelp out when you're suddenly pulled from your chair, being lifted up into bokuto's strong arms as he spins you around. "don't be so sad!" he says cheerfully, hoping to cheer you up with a big warm hug. only— this seems to make you mad. "put me down, koutaro!" you yell, pushing his chest away and forcing him to practically drop you.

"don't you see i'm working?! why are you so damn clingy? you're so annoying, god, why don't you just leave me alone?" you spit out. your words are like venom, stinging his heart greatly as his hair is quickly deflating once your words reach his ears. you simply return to your laptop once you've finished, typing mindlessly once more.

him? annoying? he didn't mean to annoy you..

he couldn't help but softly whimper, left standing in shock. he opened his mouth to say something before your previous words were reminding him to stay silent—leave me alone. he clutched his palms, looking at your turned back with teary eyes. he hopes you don't find him annoying for long..

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