Littlegiantposts - Littlegiant.* - Tumblr Blog

apple cider

“and i don’t even like you that much. wait, i do, fuck. call me at midnight. let’s give this thing a try!” apple cider - beabadoobee

🍎 — summary: you and megumi have known each other since jr. high. eventually, things get out of hand and you end up falling out. you meet again in tokyo jujutsu high only to remember old issues and realize new feelings.

🪼 — pairing: fushiguro megumi x gn! reader

🌷 — genre: friends to enemies to lovers, smau

🐰 — status: ongoing

🐸 — warnings: sfw, crack humor, sexual jokes, dying jokes, jealousy, slight angst

🌈 — notes: this smau idea has been in the notes app for over two yrs. i hope y’all enjoy! i update 1-2 times a day!

taglist is open!

y/n’s pookies + megumi’s friends

one: middle school beef

two: my favorite pastry

three: enemies to loves?

four: PANDA WHY

five: scare the hoes (respectfully)

six: idgaf

seven: we should jump him

eight: okayyy loverboy!

nine: count your days

ten: we should talk

eleven: apple bakery

twelve: old times

thirteen: gone but not forgotten

fourteen: this is sick

fifteen: he smells

sixteen: you were right

seventeen: hey u up?

eighteen: what are we?

nineteen: thru the grapevine

twenty:

tempura onigiri osamu miya x fem!reader (fluff) synopsis: you get a phone call three times from the same unknown number word count: 1.1k warnings: mentions of eating/hunger, a little ooc

    "uh, hello?" 

   "yes, uh this isn't sumu's girlfriend or anything?" a masculine voice crackles through the phone, your nose scrunching up at the confusion. 

  "no, i'm certainly not dating any 'sumu'. i'm pretty sure you have the wrong number," you sigh, biting your lip before hovering your finger over the hang up button, "uh good luck getting a hang of him though."

  you successfully hang up the phone and toss it onto your bed. it narrowly misses a textbook, flipping a little until it hits a pillow. you grab your laptop in hopes of doing some homework before going out for the night. the screen lights up to a bright blue until the sign in screen builds. 

  as you sign in, your phone begins to ring once more. it's signature ringing sending you into a groan. you reach back, grabbing your phone and answering once more for the day, "hello? who is this?"

  you should've checked the caller id, because the same voice rings through, "ahh i'm sorry, it's my brother's number and it must be very similar to yours."

  "it's.. alright. it's happened to me before, just double check it next time, you know? good luck once more good sir!" an attempt to sound positive so that the man on the other side of the phone can reach the same hope of contacting someone other than you. 

  just as you click the hang up button, his voice is cut off, "my name is miya osamu by the-" 

  you mentally cringe at the thought of hanging up on someone. especially when someone is introducing themselves to you. you sigh, setting your phone back down to examine the discussion board in front of you. it's a rather boring discussion, talking about the difference between different elements. 

  you grab your biology textbook, scanning through until you reach the periodic table. upon looking at weight and the molecular structures of the elements, you roll your eyes. not that you're upset to be going to university, but some classes have come to bore you. 

  to your rescue comes another phone call, pulling your attention away from the discussion to your unique phone case. you flip it off, looking at the call number coming from the caller. it's the same number that 'osamu' was calling from. 

  "still not your brother's number," you dryly laugh to osamu, setting your phone down on your leg. your arms crossing over your chest. 

  "i can't believe this keeps happening, i swear this doesn't happen to me all the time. this is purely a weird coincidence," he lets out, his voice wavering a little as though he's trying to speak the most worrisome thing ever. 

  you shake your head a little, not believing the weird scenario you're living in, "it's totally okay, miya, right? my name is l/n y/n, just for when you eventually call again," you laugh once more, trying to get it across as a joke. 

  "yeah, call me osamu though, i've gotten my name mixed up with my brother enough so i just go with osamu," he rambles on, causing you to smile to yourself, imagining some dude nervous to converse with you over the phone. 

  "well, call me y/n then, as we're on a first name basis," you uncross your arms, your fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. your laptop being pushed to the side as your attention fades. 

  osamu finally gets a confident laugh out to you, his smile clearly shining through the digital devices. you reciprocate it, sighing a little. "well, i should go, but if i do call you again, at this point it's probably just force of habit."

  "alrighty osamu, would say good luck for the third time, but i think you might need more than luck," you hang up for the third time, setting your phone down to finally work with your classmates. 

  minutes pass and your mind can't seem to focus on the screen in front of you. you shut the computer down, hoping to take a break and get back to it, fully focused. but for now, you want lunch, because people can't work on an empty stomach. 

  you open the mini fridge supplied by your roommate (who's currently out on vacation). inside are a few snacks, nothing meal worthy. and the cafeteria is already closed for lunch, leaving you to grab your wallet. you didn't want to eat out much due to expenses, but the growl in your stomach is becoming a roar.

  the stoplight turns red, letting you make your way towards the nearby restaurants. there's an array of places near there to eat, bbq, all you can eat, sweets. however, one catches your eye simply by name, onigiri miya.

  you stop in front of it, looking at the unique sign above. it's a sleek store; however, the only thing keeping your attention is the coincidental name. your mind races with the thoughts of it being the miya family. however, what's the possibility? 

  despite this you take your chance, opening the door to the lively restaurant. inside are some college aged patrons, someone taking orders at the register. you look to the signs, trying to pick something to try. onigiri seems to be what the place is known for. which leaves you with one choice. 

  "i'd like the tenmusu, tempura onigiri, please," you pull out your wallet, looking up towards the staff member. a smile grows on his face, one that looks unnaturally happy for someone who is ordering onigiri.

  he nods, tapping the register, "alrighty, let me just see, y/n, right?"

  you look up at the man, narrowing your eyebrows. your thoughts range from creep to wait, is this osamu? he shrugs, waiting for you to say something as your own smile forms. you shake your head a little, "yeah, osamu, right? what a weird coincidence."

  "yeah, it's a really odd coincidence that tenmusu is also free for anyone named y/n for today," osamu shrugs once more, his figure fidgeting a little as you stuff your wallet back into your pocket. 

  "you ever reach your brother, charmer?" the question lingers in the air as osamu lifts up his phone. he shakes it a little, "not quite, i kind of gave up after calling you three times. figured a fourth time within twenty minutes would've been a bit awkward."

  "not if you had tempted me with onigiri first, then it would've been totally acceptable," you cock your eyebrow, biting your lip a little while smiling, unsure of what to say next. 

  his head tilts a little, wondering if you were joking or being rather truthful to you. "good to know, i would ask for your number or something but i kind of already have it," osamu replies, looking down at the register and then back to you, "i will get that onigiri out to you and maybe i could invite you to dinner?"

  "that's true, and sure. just text me the place."

it’s the middle of summer, it’s way too hot, and it’s his one day off, but atsumu’s dragged himself into the heart of downtown osaka for this.

“let me get those for ya.”

he takes the bags of rice from your arms, hoping you notice the way his biceps flex when he grabs the second bag from kita’s truck with little effort. 

“oh, thank you. i’ll grab the door for you,” you offer, wiping your hands on your apron and pulling the back door open. 

he thanks you with a nod and a bright smile, leaving you outside to sign for the delivery. 

“hey,” he greets the manager as he passes the small back office. “where do you want these?”

osamu glances up from his laptop, pausing to do a double take. “uh, just set them down in the pantry— wait,” he’s about to go do that before his brother stops him. “so you’re just…helping? unprompted?”

“yeah? sometimes my heart’s just so big i can’t stand it.”

his twin leans back in his seat and looks at him. really looks at him, in the way that their ma would when she knew they were lying. “not unless you want something.” 

the back door swings open, atsumu diverting his full attention to you once more. “i just sweet talked kita into waiving the delivery fee again this month.” 

“that’s my girl,” he grins, lifting his hand. you roll your eyes and call him cheesy under your breath, but indulge him with a crisp high-five anyway. 

his heart swells in his chest when you look up at him. and oh man, you look good. with your gorgeous eyes and even prettier—

“atsumu?” 

“yeah?” he blinks.

“i’ve got work to do…”

atsumu, not quite understanding, follows your gaze to where his hand is clutching yours. he hadn’t even realized… 

he drops your hand immediately, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “oh, right. sorry. it’s just not that often that i get to work side-by-side with someone as pretty as you.”

“wow. was that meant to be a line?” you ask.

“depends,” he shrugs, leaning just the slightest bit closer. “did it work?” 

you lean your hip against the counter, staring up at him. “what is going on with you?”

“nothing.”

“really? because you’re being very cute today.” 

“what are you talking about? i’m cute everyday,” he states like it’s a fact, tying an apron around his waist. “unrelated…have i told you how beautiful you are today?”

“not since this morning,” you quip, your smile growing as you begin pulling ingredients from the pantry. “why? are you trying to butter me up for something?”

“well…” he starts, drawing a deep breath. “i was going to see if you wanted to get lunch today. on me, of course.” 

you set your knife down, turning to face him. “are you insinuating that i can be bought?”

he hesitates at that, his heart practically falling out of his asshole. “i– i mean we can split it if that makes you feel better.” 

“atsumu?”

“yeah?” 

“i was kidding, of course we can get lunch together,” you assure him, patting his arm as you step around him. “let me just finish prepping for tonight, then we can go.” 

once you’ve stepped out of the kitchen, atsumu turns to face his twin, who’s watching from the office. “just say it, ya scrub.” 

osamu doesn’t pull his punches, shaking his head slightly. “so that’s what you wanted.”

Atsumu knows he shouldn't be listening to this.

The fervent empathy in Meian's voice and the hushed insistence of yours makes it clear that this is a private conversation and he had every intent of walking away. He really did.

"You knew him, didn't you?" Meian asks.

Until he heard his name.

"Miya. You know him," he amends.

You don't reply.

Meian surmises "this is why you didn't come to the JVA when his contract was finalized, isn't it?"

"No," you reply hesitating before you add "not the whole reason."

"Why didn't you tell me you had a problem with him."

"Because I don't," you insist, voice still hushed. Meian must have given you a look because you say "what? I don't!"

"Then what is it?" Meian insists. "You haven't been yourself since he joined the team and I not only want to know what's going on, I need to know. We're on the same team here." You snort and there's a smile in Meian's voice when he says "exactly. Figuratively and literally."

There's a patient pause; Atsumu almost wonders if the two of you have walked off without him realizing until your voice quietly breaks the silence.

"I was in love with him."

No.

"We went to high school together," you admit to Meian.

No way.

"There was a time we were even friends…"

You?

"What happened?" Meain gently asks.

"Some people are just...not meant to be." You sigh heavily. "Look, nothing happened. That's part of why I didn't say anything. I had a huge crush on this guy, we became friends, but nothing ever came of it."

"Did he know about your feelings?"

"Yeah."

When you don't offer anything else Meian infers "but he didn't feel the same way."

"He did not. He didn't want a relationship or anything that could interfere with volleyball; he made that perfectly clear. So when high school ended we just..."

"Drifted apart?" You must nod because Meian sighs. "I'm so sorry. Are you going to be okay?"

"Of course," you answer too quickly. "This is why I didn't say anything, because I didn't want to cause drama when literally nothing happened."

The two of you continue talking but start walking away and your footsteps muddle your voices too much for Atsumu to hear what else you say. He wants desperately to chase after you and demand answers or at least sneak along and continue eavesdropping but he can't.

He's frozen.

You were in love with him back then?!

And you think he knew about your feelings? And, even worse,

that he didn't feel the same way?

His heart's ringing in his ears because while he did say that he 'didn't want a relationship or anything that could interfere with volleyball' he definitely,

without a doubt,

most certainly

did not

say it to you.

a slight continuation of this

no caller ID pops on your screen, pulling your attention away from your previous task at hand: not fucking up your eyeliner. you typically wouldn’t care if it was a little uneven, but you’re going on a date tonight, for the first time in so long, and you want everything to go as smoothly as possible.

which is why you groan when you end the call, and that same no caller ID pops right back up seconds later. you know who it is—who else would it be? you figured he’s already seen your story of being excited for going on your first date in a while, on the only app you hadn’t blocked him on. petty? perhaps, but it’s on him to be keeping up with you despite you cursing him out for wasting your time and then blocking him right after.

you watch it ring though, contemplating for a while longer than you should. you blocked him for a reason. no need to entertain his same shit that he always spews to you when he realizes that he might be losing you once more?

….but it doesn’t hurt to hear the hero beg for you.

“What do you want, Bakugou?” You sigh irritably as you finally answer his call, putting him on speaker as you go back to even out your eyeliner. You hear him huff on the other side of the phone at the use of his surname, but he doesn’t say anything about it, instead, quickly telling you what he’s been bothering you for.

“Who’s the fuckin’ loser that’s gonna drool over how good your tits look in that stupid green dress you love so much?” Bakugou grunts, and you instantly feel your face heating at his crude words. You glance over with a frown at that same green dress that makes your tits look good, where it hangs on your closet.

“None of your damn business, Bakugou.” You snap at him, wondering if it’s too late to find something else to wear. “Not like you ever took me out in my stupid green dress.” Your voice holds a level of bitterness that only he can bring out of you, and you hear his sigh through the speakers.

“I told you this before, I’m always—”

“Busy.” You cut him off, voice suddenly thick as you think back on the countless rejections he’s splattered at your feet every time you tried to further your relationship with him. “You reminded me of how busy you’ve been since you first started this whole situationship.”

“Situation—? Huh? We were dating!” Bakugou protests with a huff, and you can hear how he paces the floor quickly. You glare at your phone, setting down your liner to instead pick of your (his) favorite lipgloss.

“You’d have to ask me out to be dating, Bakugou. You’d have to court me to be dating, Bakugou. You’d have to make time for me and take me out on dates and not hide me to fucking date me, Bakugou.” You spit at him, venom dripping off of your lips in waves. You don’t know why you answered, why you even entertained him. You shake your head with a huff when the line goes quiet, eyebrows quirking up when your date sends you a text to make sure you’re still on for tonight.

“I’m sorry.” Bakugou mutters pathetically, his voice suddenly soft. You hesitate, for some reason, when it comes to texting your date back. Why do you always hesitate when Bakugou is around?

“Let me make it up to you, court you, and shit. I can take you to one of my favorite places, you can wear that pretty green dress and that gloss you know I love.” His voice is pleading, thickening and sweet and suffocating. You shouldn’t respond, should reply back a yes to your date.

“Please? You know how much you mean to me.” Bakugou mumbles, and you can hear the earnestness in his voice. Why haven’t you said yes to your date yet?

“I’ll do better this time. Just one more chance, sweetheart.” Bakugou’s voice is so soft, you’ve never heard him this vulnerable before. You sigh with a shake of your head, slumping back into your seat in defeat.

…

Sorry, I can’t make it tonight. Something came up. Maybe we can reschedule for another time?

it’s the middle of summer, it’s way too hot, and it’s his one day off, but atsumu’s dragged himself into the heart of downtown osaka for this.

“let me get those for ya.”

he takes the bags of rice from your arms, hoping you notice the way his biceps flex when he grabs the second bag from kita’s truck with little effort. 

“oh, thank you. i’ll grab the door for you,” you offer, wiping your hands on your apron and pulling the back door open. 

he thanks you with a nod and a bright smile, leaving you outside to sign for the delivery. 

“hey,” he greets the manager as he passes the small back office. “where do you want these?”

osamu glances up from his laptop, pausing to do a double take. “uh, just set them down in the pantry— wait,” he’s about to go do that before his brother stops him. “so you’re just…helping? unprompted?”

“yeah? sometimes my heart’s just so big i can’t stand it.”

his twin leans back in his seat and looks at him. really looks at him, in the way that their ma would when she knew they were lying. “not unless you want something.” 

the back door swings open, atsumu diverting his full attention to you once more. “i just sweet talked kita into waiving the delivery fee again this month.” 

“that’s my girl,” he grins, lifting his hand. you roll your eyes and call him cheesy under your breath, but indulge him with a crisp high-five anyway. 

his heart swells in his chest when you look up at him. and oh man, you look good. with your gorgeous eyes and even prettier—

“atsumu?” 

“yeah?” he blinks.

“i’ve got work to do…”

atsumu, not quite understanding, follows your gaze to where his hand is clutching yours. he hadn’t even realized… 

he drops your hand immediately, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “oh, right. sorry. it’s just not that often that i get to work side-by-side with someone as pretty as you.”

“wow. was that meant to be a line?” you ask.

“depends,” he shrugs, leaning just the slightest bit closer. “did it work?” 

you lean your hip against the counter, staring up at him. “what is going on with you?”

“nothing.”

“really? because you’re being very cute today.” 

“what are you talking about? i’m cute everyday,” he states like it’s a fact, tying an apron around his waist. “unrelated…have i told you how beautiful you are today?”

“not since this morning,” you quip, your smile growing as you begin pulling ingredients from the pantry. “why? are you trying to butter me up for something?”

“well…” he starts, drawing a deep breath. “i was going to see if you wanted to get lunch today. on me, of course.” 

you set your knife down, turning to face him. “are you insinuating that i can be bought?”

he hesitates at that, his heart practically falling out of his asshole. “i– i mean we can split it if that makes you feel better.” 

“atsumu?”

“yeah?” 

“i was kidding, of course we can get lunch together,” you assure him, patting his arm as you step around him. “let me just finish prepping for tonight, then we can go.” 

once you’ve stepped out of the kitchen, atsumu turns to face his twin, who’s watching from the office. “just say it, ya scrub.” 

osamu doesn’t pull his punches, shaking his head slightly. “so that’s what you wanted.”

TIME AFTER TIME.

PAIRING. Atsumu Miya x f!Reader

CONTENT. angst to fluff, fake relationship trope, misunderstandings

WC. 3.3K

A/N. OLD DRAFTTT!!! I reread it and I liked it so here you go :-)

“You’re weird, yanno that?” a voice called from beside you.

Taking your eyes off the white board in the front of the class, you quickly glanced over to the boy next to you. A puzzled look rested on his face while he propped his head up with a hand below his chin. 

“What?” was the only thing you could get out. This was the first time he had spoken to you since the class seating arrangement had gotten switched.

You had the amazing opportunity to sit with the one and only, Atsumu Miya. Great.

His nose scrunched up a bit as he thought about what to say, “Mm, you’re different is what I mean… I think,”

He thinks? 

Atsumu notices the bewilderment in your eyes before continuing, “You’re not flustered or like, going absolutely batshit crazy that you get to sit next to me,” 

Okay, now he sounded crazy and cocky. 

“Why would I do that?” You mustered out. 

“Because I’m me.”

Keep reading

a bit dirty // masterlist

in which you hook up with osamu in a club bathroom and that's just the beginning.

~ ᴏsᴀᴍᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ~ current wc: 12291 ᴡᴏʀᴅs status (as of may23): in progress ~ 2 / 6 chapters posted (posted every tuesday at 7pm est)

the general vibe: 18+ minors dni smut every chapter no joke, tiny bits of angst (literally one part that's resolved in that same chapter), slight slowburn, one night stand to long term relationship and blossoming feelings, handful of timeskips! what you're getting yourself into: first time club bathroom sex, cute flirting and developing feelings, fucking your boss, osamu is more emotionally intelligent than his brother, gym3 friend group, afab reader she/her pronouns, will provide tags for each chapter!! ~~

♡ tori's polls ♡ ( what drove u crazier? )

ch1. maybe a bad idea

ch2. most likely a bad idea

ch3. (coming soon) probably a bad idea

♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

Pairing: Osamu x reader (main route), Atsumu x reader

Genre: Social Media-AU (SMAU)

Status: finished

Warning: fluff, angst, mention of cheating ex fiance, nsfw, 18+, minors DNI, manga spoilers

Note: Some chapters contain smut, so minors dni. All characters are grown-up since it’s after the manga timeskip.

Summary

It took you long to live that perfect life you have now. You had a man who loved you, were even engaged and wanted to get married. But everything falls apart the second you catch your fiance in the act with his ex.

It’s good to have a friend like Atsumu who lets you stay with him right away and even organizes you a job. A job in his brother’s Onigiri shop. Barely did you know that you fell into a ride of love once you took the job.

≡ Masterlist    

Y/n squad  |  Osamu squad  | Chapters down below

Keep reading

the walls are thin // masterlist

in which atsumu is your college neighbor with whom you share a wall.

~ ᴀᴛsᴜᴍᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ~ total wc: 75368 ᴡᴏʀᴅs status (as of apr23): complete! ~ 9 / 9 chapters posted

oh but ofc she's got a playlist (♡) "what a shame it would be if you left her now"

the general vibe: incessant fluff, 18+ eventual smut (with small nsfw desc & bits in the meantime), small bits of angst (it's an 8 chapter story there's going to be some conflict) what you're getting yourself into: atsumu is very sexually active, complicated feelings (but no miscommunication trope), a LOT of flirting, hanamaki takahiro side piece ♡ , seijoh 4 & msby besties, slow burn (ish?), seriously so much fluff, tiny bit of angst, afab reader she/her pronouns, will provide tags for each chapter!! ~~

tori loves polls. (which of my self indulgences did you vibe with the most in the epilogue?)

ch1. your annoying, stupid, inconsiderate, really fucking hot neighbor

ch2. stupid, annoying, really attractive, super funny, ravishingly charming atsumu

ch3. perfectly inconsiderate, maybe cluelessly oblivious

ch4. incredibly heart-warming, stupidly romantic

ch5. overly attentive and completely different than you ever expected him to be

ch6. flirty, surprisingly sweet, now super close neighbor

ch7. really pretty, honest to god made for you

ch7.5. passionate, silently perfect romantic, unwavering platonic

ch8. gorgeously genuine, absolutely beaming (aka atsumu ending)

ch8.5. carefully attentive, the same person he’s always been (aka maki ending)

epilogue. proudly unpredictable and awestrukenly trusting

♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

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!

admit it

synopsis. loving him from afar was enough. at least, it should’ve been enough. until it wasn’t. (or, in which you subtly take care of your ex, bakugou katsuki, who also happens to be the namesake of the agency you’re working at)

cw. fem!reader, worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (~24 yrs old)

word count. 5.0k words

Being the HR Department Head of the Ground Riot agency, you’ve learned to take care of Pro Hero Dynamight in subtle ways.

Primarily because even though he isn’t technically your direct superior—he rarely dabbled in admin work as compared to his co-founder Kirishima Eijirou—you didn’t want to stir up drama or reports on inappropriate workplace relationships.

Especially as the head of the Human Relations department.

But that’s not the only reason.

It’s also because—well, he’s your ex.

The ex who you never really understood in terms of how he became that.

“You know, we really need to redecorate this place.”

Mikuri, your colleague from the PR department, muses as she scans the breakroom from her spot on the L-shaped sofa.

You place the black coffee pods you picked up on your way home yesterday near the coffee machine, “Tell that to Finance. The breakroom decor is probably the least of their worries.”

She merely sighs in response as she reverts her attention to her phone.

“You do know that doom scrolling during your break isn’t exactly resting, right?”

At that, she pouts but doesn’t look up. “I hear you, Ms. HR.”

You playfully roll your eyes at the nickname.

“Stocking up on coffee during one’s break isn’t exactly resting, either.”

At her mention of the beverage, your eyes drift back to the pods you have in your hands. You found that they ran out before your shift ended the day prior and were quick to buy refills.

“What are you doing with that flavor, anyway?” she finally lifts her head to regard you, pocketing her phone as she stands up. You look up at the wall clock—break time’s almost over. “Didn’t you dislike that?”

You smile to yourself, fiddling with capsules. Mikuri was right—you didn’t really like this flavor.

But Katsuki did.

And he still does, you think.

“Y/N!”

You whip your head around to see the owner of the familiar voice—Kirishima, decked out in his hero gear, looking like he’s about to head out for patrol.

“Hey! What’s up, Ei?”

He grins, head sticking through the slightly ajar sliding door, “I’m good! ‘s a good thing I ran into you—Bakugou got called out on an emergency mission.”

He nods at Mikuri in greeting, smile still adorning his face, before shifting his gaze back at you. “Looks like it’s still gonna be me and you during the final screening later.”

His eyes dart toward the coffee machine and the freshly stocked pods. Your hips shuffle in front of it before your brain could even catch up.

“Great, see you then!”

With that, Kirishima flashes you a final grin before easing out of the door and heading toward the elevators.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Final screening?” Mikuri whisper-shouts the second Kirishima’s out of sight.

You sigh, collecting the packaging and shoving it into the trash bin. “Sidekicks. He finally got Bakugou to say yes to getting one.”

“Oof, good luck with that.”

“Personally, I think it boils down to these two.”

You thrust forward the two sets of files in front of you, eyeing everyone seated at the oval-shaped meeting table.

“I agree,” your HR subordinate chimes in from the far end of the table.

“I vote for web dude,” another adds. “He’s so much like Bakugou personality-wise. They’d have to click.”

The recruitment head shakes her head, “Yeah, but his quirk doesn’t complement Bakugou’s explosion as much as the girl’s water jet.”

“I know, Yamakawa-san. But did you even see her? She’s so timid, I’ll bet you 5,000 yen that she’ll quit on day 1 of Bakugou shouting at her.”

Murmurs of agreement course through the room, but you’re not paying attention to what they’re whispering to each other.

“I doubt he’ll want someone so similar to him,” you mumble to yourself.

Apparently, you say it loud enough because everyone looks at you in confusion.

Shit.

“I mean, imagine how much of a PR and HR nightmare that will be,” you joke, although it comes out a bit stilted. Fortunately, they, including Kirishima who is seated at your right and at one end of the table, chuckle at your wisecrack.

“Are you voting for the girl, then?” the recruitment head inquires once the laughter dies down.

“Well…” you pause, “I agree that Moriyama-san is remarkably meek and timid, but just from her series of interviews, let alone her practical test, I could see she liked a good challenge.”

You tap her portrait, “Beyond just being a good match for Bakugou’s quirk, she’ll surely step up. And I know for a fact that if there’s anyone who can guarantee that, it’s Katsuki.”

At that, some eyes widen, and you can’t help but tilt your head in confusion at the perplexed looks they’re giving you.

“I mean, Bakugou!” you backtrack, finally realizing your mistake.

Desperate to change the subject, you direct your attention toward Kirishima. “What do you think, Kirishima-san?”

He passes you a knowing smile, one that is too unnerving for your liking, before leaning back on his chair.

“I think you’re right.”

You allow yourself to do some internal chastising the minute the meeting is adjourned.

Hiding your complicated feelings for Bakugou was easy—mainly because you rarely saw him around.

But hiding how much you knew about him?

That’s a whole different story.

“Good work, Y/N,” Kirishima pats you on the shoulder as the rest of your recruitment crew pile to exit the room.

You flash him a thankful smile before hopping on your feet and gathering your documents. “I’m trying not to make you regret hiring me, boss.”

He chuckles good-naturedly before looking away in what you think is reluctance.

“What is it?” you prod, feeling a sense of uneasiness crawl through your spine.

He seems to hesitate before continuing, “I was just gonna say—you always know what’s best for Bakugou.”

At that, your expression falters, and you feel your shoulders tensing at the mention of Bakugou’s name. You refuse to let your hurt (or whatever the fuck it is you’re feeling) show on your face, though.

Instead, you shrug as nonchalantly as you can. “I just want the best for my bosses.”

Kirishima doesn’t say anything after that, but you can tell the gears are running in his brain. He simply nods in acknowledgment of your response before heading for the door himself, and you follow suit.

You’re at the doorway, stifling a tired yawn when you lock eyes with the man of the hour himself.

“Bakubro!” Kirishima exclaims in greeting. He encases Bakugou in a bro hug, which the latter begrudgingly accepts. “You got the mission done and over with?”

Bakugou, in all of his costume-decked glory, eyes the redhead and scoffs, “Obviously.”

His eyes flicker to yours. You nod at each other in lieu of a verbal greeting.

“You just missed the meeting,” Kirishima starts, vaguely aware of the palpable tension between the two of you. “We found’em—your first-ever sidekick!”

You almost want to laugh at how Bakugou doesn’t match Kirishima’s energy.

He simply grunts in response.

But Kirishima’s not the type to give up so easily. Instead, he adds: “Y/N made the final decision.”

You stiffen at the mention of your name, Bakugou’s eyes shifting toward you at the same time. You brace yourself for a snarky retort or a lame insult, but nothing comes.

Instead, he merely gives you a firm nod.

“Thanks.”

At that, he makes his way to his corner office.

You were only reminded that your HR personnel was still around when murmurs erupted in Bakugou’s wake.

“Just like that?”

“Wait, he’s in?”

“Wow, never thought he was capable of saying thank you.”

“Yeah, all I get is a halfhearted eye roll.”

The last comment would’ve made you snort if you weren’t too dazed by how uncharacteristic that was of Bakugou. You stand there for what feels like minutes as the others around you start toward their respective offices.

Finally snapping out of the trance the second you realized you were alone in the hallway, you head toward your own office, renewed with the resolve to take your mind off of one Bakugou Katsuki.

You had just the thing to keep yourself busy.

The monthly HR-hosted game night of Ground Riot agency is the one HR activity everyone actually looked forward to.

It’s the one time of the month employees get to let loose during weekdays and bond with colleagues, as well as enjoy free food and drinks, including the occasional booze.

It is also a pain in the ass to organize.

As the HR department head, you technically served as the project head, too, overseeing all of the subcommittees—from programs to logistics—on top of your everyday workload.

Suffice to say, the week before game nights never fails to whoop you in the ass with crushing responsibilities (and for the record, you’re not overreacting—you take your HR events very seriously) but you dare say that the outcomes and seeing everyone enjoy themselves always make it worth it.

For this month, in the spirit of encouraging employee engagement in your department, you let the Recruitment and Selection subdepartment be in charge of the program’s game proper.

In hindsight, maybe you shouldn’t have.

Because now your very own HR members are dragging everyone to answer very personal truth-or-dare questions.

And ‘everyone’ happened to include Bakugou Katsuki.

“Bakugou-san!” an employee from the engineering department regards said man, who, by some miracle, has let himself be forced into playing.

Having chosen the ‘truth’ option, he is now seated on the mini-stage you happened to help set up earlier that afternoon.

One of your subordinates hands the support items engineer a microphone. The latter taps the mic before resuming, glee evident in her voice. “How many people have you dated?”

Cheers go off from all around the room at the question, and you shoot a withering glare at your assigned subdepartment members. One catches your eye and visibly cringes.

But goes on pretending they didn’t see you.

Fucking hell.

Grabbing yourself a microphone from the sound booth, you speak into it, trying not to freak out over the fact that this will very much be the first time you’ll verbally address Bakugou in two years.

“Apologies, Bakugou-san,” you start, “You don’t have to answer that.”

Everyone looks at you in bewilderment, including Bakugou who himself looks puzzled.

You take the lull that has befallen upon the room as a sign to continue.

“Such questions are deemed inappropriate as per HR standards. I’m going to have to speak with my subordinates after this.”

You expected uneasy silence as a response, but you sure as hell didn’t anticipate the plethora of jeers that erupt in the room, some even exclaiming exasperated ‘come on’s’.

You’re about to insist (as calmly as you can, that is) when a low, gruff voice crackles from the speakers.

“‘s fine. I’ll answer the fucking question.”

The room goes entirely still. You hold your breath.

He heaves a sigh, and you could’ve sworn his gaze flickered to you for a moment before he looks away.

“Just one.”

Oohs and aahs get passed around, and despite yourself, you feel a shot of relief course through your veins at the implication of Bakugou’s answer.

He hasn’t dated since you.

“Are you guys still together?” a male employee shouts from the other end of the room, and you can’t help the rush of blood toward your cheeks at the question.

You need to put your foot down, now.

“Okay,” you interject, “that’s enou–”

“No. We broke up two years ago.”

Your head whips toward Bakugou’s direction, shocked at his ready admission. The reprimanding words that you were about to spit out die in your throat.

“You plan on seeing anyone anytime soon?” another employee asks from the other far corner.

You’re about to pipe up in protest—distressed over the inappropriate questions, as the HR head or ex-girlfriend, you don’t know—when Kirishima stands up and barks out a good-natured laugh.

“I think that’s enough prodding, you guys.” His eyes flicker to Bakugou’s and then yours in a split second, face etched with concern, before he turns back his attention to the crowd, a toothy grin having replaced his previous expression.

You didn’t realize how tense your muscles have gotten until Kirishima stepped in to intervene, and at that, you slowly let out a big exhale through your nose.

God fucking no. The last thing you need is for your co-workers to find out that the HR head, of all people, is their boss’s ex.

Before you can even spiral further, though, you feel a hand clap your upper back. You twist to find Kirishima, who is, weirdly enough, beaming with excitement.

“We actually have something special planned for a special someone today.”

And as if on cue, the rest of your HR department enters the room, with your secretary carrying your favorite cake and the others holding balloons and a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

You don’t remember telling anyone about your favorites except for one person.

Confused, you turn towards Kirishima. “What’s going on?”

“What’s going on?” he mimics, amused at your confusion and the employees who hear laugh. “It’s your one-year anniversary in the agency!”

You could only gape in shock as the people around you, the ones you, over time, grew to identify as family, crowd you and urge you to blow out the candle and accept the flowers.

Still disoriented, you do what they tell you, and they cheer in response as you do so.

With all the busyness that came with the search for sidekicks and the monthly HR game night, you completely forgot about the significance of today’s date.

Overwhelmed by the sentiments and the sea of people surrounding you, you don’t know where to look or mouth a thank you.

Somehow, your gaze finds Bakugou’s—only to see him already looking at you from behind the crowd.

You’re about to look away, unable to sustain his piercing gaze, when he flashes you a small smile.

None of those smirks or mischievous grins he usually sports around other people.

No, this one was different.

Because this was the kind of smile he’d reserved especially for private moments with you.

Before you can give it a second thought, you find yourself smiling back.

“You really couldn’t be bothered to change into normal clothes before coming here?”

You, as inconspicuously as you can, look around the café you’re currently in, wary of paparazzi or anyone else that could recognize Pro Hero Pinky. The last thing you needed was a picture of you (the lucky civilian), haggard after a long day of work, all over Twitter.

“Nah,” she shrugs, “patrol was completely uneventful anyway. I’ll shower when I get home.”

You reach for your iced drink, mumbling under your breath, “I wasn’t worried about you…”

“Hey!” she pouts, “Is that how you treat a friend who’s done you a major favor?”

Your eye twitches at the mention of a favor.

These things never end well with Mina.

“Mina…” you groan, “what did you do?”

She rubs her neck sheepishly. “I kind of promised one of my colleagues that you’d go on a blind date with him.”

“What the fuck?”

She grabs your hand over the table that sits between the two of you. “He’s a real catch, I promise you. Tall, handsome, and a crazy smart support items engineer.”

You frantically shake your head, yanking your hand from her. “Idiot, I’m not worried about your ‘candidate’. Who the fuck said I wanted to go on a blind date?”

Mina whines and thrashes in her seat in response, maybe in an attempt to make you feel sorry and just go along with her antics.

You refuse to do so.

After a few minutes of an incredulous stare-off, she finally deflates in defeat.

“I just thought I could help you out and get you out of your shell. You haven’t dated anyone since…” she trails off, and looks away awkwardly, “you know.”

You chuckle despite yourself, albeit quite solemnly.

Until now, it still makes you feel guilty how the rest of your friend group is forced to deal with the aftermath of your unsuccessful relationship with Bakugou.

“You can say his name, you know. He’s not Voldemort.”

Mina rolls her eyes at that, but you can tell it’s playful more than anything else.

You look down at your now clasped hands. “I appreciate the help, you know that.”

She nods vigorously, and you almost laugh at how much of a textbook-active listener she is.

“But?”

You sigh, “I just can’t right now. If I end up dating someone, word will eventually get around in the office and I just…”

You lock eyes with Mina, whose eyebrows are raised in anticipation.

“I don’t want to make things awkward between Bakugou and me, especially now that I’m working in his agency.”

A few moments of silence pass before Mina speaks up, slunk against her chair.

“Man, you’re the world’s best ex-girlfriend, you know that?”

You snort, “Thanks.”

She sighs in exasperation, “I mean, even if you guys had the most ambiguous breakup ever, you still are extremely considerate about him.”

You’re not, by any means, in the mood or headspace to explore why that is, so you go for the safest answer possible.

“What can I say,” leaning back into your chair yourself, feigning nonchalance, “I’m just an incredibly good person.”

Mina doesn’t even bat an eye at your quip, “Yeah, yeah. Why did you guys break up, anyway?”

“Woah,” you lean back, aghast, “it’s,” you flick your wrist to check the time on your watch, “5:17 PM, Mina. And I doubt this café even serves a beer.”

You’re deflecting, and Mina has known you long enough to be aware of that.

She leans back in her chair and crosses her arms across her chest. “Don’t you think I’m owed a little bit of information? I’m the one who set you guys up.”

“Actually, that was Kirishi–.”

“Doesn’t matter,” she interjects, “I helped.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. She waves it off.

“Point is, I was there when this budding relationship started, and I’m here to know the deets about how it ended.”

You shake your head in resignation, “You sure you don’t want to say you’re just nosy?”

She grins at you, “Nope!”

“So you’re telling me he got too busy and neglectful, you ended up asking for a break, and you’ve never talked to each other since?”

“Yep. That’s what I just said.”

Out of the blue, she hops onto her feet, and in doing so knocks stuff around on the table.

A glass of water almost spills.

“Mina?” you seethe, “Sit the fuck back down. People are gonna stare.”

“Bitch, I have pink skin. They’ve been staring since we entered the room,” she snaps, “And don’t even think about changing the subject.”

“I’m not! Just sit back down.”

She obliges, but she’s still visibly riled up, “I knew your breakup was vague, but not this vague!”

“I don’t know either, okay!” you put your hands up, exasperated. “A month into it he got Kirishima to get his things from my apartment, and so I just assumed he wanted to break up.”

Her eyes are filled with bewilderment, “And your asking me to get your things from his apartment?”

“I…” you hesitate, “I asked you immediately the day after.”

At that, she huffs in surrender, sinking back into her chair. “And you’re supposed to be an expert at conflict resolution.”

“Hey,” you throw a used tissue at her, which she expertly dodges, “That’s for the workplace setting. Romantic relationships are a whole other thing.”

She scoffs, fiddling with the piece of paper containing the café’s WiFi password. “And then, what? You took a gap year to find yourself?”

You roll your eyes for the nth time, reaching forward to take back the tissue you threw at her.

“Don’t make it sound like that. I just took a gap year after graduating to rest and figure out what I wanted to do. I was just lucky enough to have been recruited by Kirishima even if I had zero work experience by the time I came back.”

Mina eyes you, “Even if it meant technically having Bakugou as your boss?”

You look down at the piece of tissue in your hands.

“Even if it meant actually having Bakugou as my boss.”

Mina doesn’t say anything after that, only reaching for her cup of decaf coffee. You follow suit, taking a sip from your now-diluted drink.

You look up at her to see that she’s thinking hard about something.

In spite of yourself, you feel the familiar feeling of dread rising in your throat.

“...You’re not gonna tell him about this conversation, are you?”

“Who, Katsuki?” she asks and you gingerly nod. “Of course not!”

You hold eye contact for a while longer before looking away with a big sigh of relief. “Thanks.”

Three knocks echo through the hallway, as well as Kirishima’s expansive, corner office. Hesitantly and without noise, you peer through the glass door to see him in his regular clothes and in his desk, rifling through some documents that appear to be mission reports.

Kirishima looks up and catches your eye. Beaming at you with an inviting grin, he beckons you in with a wave of a hand.

“Y/N, bro! What’s up?”

You smile at him as you enter and close the door behind you.

He calls everyone bro, regardless of their gender.

“Hi, Ei. I have the report on the recruits, including Bakugou’s sidekick here with me,” you gesture to the folder in your hand. “Can you spare a minute to go through it together?”

What seems like hesitation dances across Kirishima’s face before he somehow schools it into a sheepish frown.

“Sorry, Y/N,” he starts, “I’m kinda busy right now,”

He flips through the pages for emphasis, “Have an important report due in an hour.”

“Oh, well that’s okay. I can just come back later when you’re free.”

You’re already turning back to exit his office when Kirishima speaks up again.

“—but Bakugou’s available!”

Slowly, you shift back to face him.

“...What?”

“I mean,” Kirishima backtracks, evidently flustered by his outburst, “Bakugou’s free right now. He can go through those documents with you. Especially since he’s the one getting a new sidekick and all.”

You gulp despite yourself, willing desperately to calm your now racing heart.

“But Ei… It’s always been you and our department coordinating on stuff like this. Why the sudden change now?”

It takes Kirishima a few seconds to reply.

And what he says knocks the breath out of your lungs.

“I just think it’s about time he starts taking matters into his own hands.”

When you got dressed and ready this morning, you didn’t think you’d be having your first proper conversation with your ex in two years.

But the universe, or rather, Kirishima, had other plans.

Thinking ‘this is the best it can get’ as you stare at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, you sigh and make your way to your desk to get the files, heading straight to Bakugou’s office afterward.

When you get there, you don’t dare to immediately walk toward his doorway as you did with Kirishima. Instead, you stop at his secretary’s desk.

“Is Dynamight in?”

“Yes,” his secretary chirps without hesitation. How she’s able to still be her sunshiney self despite working immediately under Bakugou is beyond you.

Human resilience, you guess.

She clicks a few times with her mouse as she stares at her laptop screen, before looking back at you again. “He’s actually expecting you, Y/N-san.”

Your eyes widen in disbelief.

Hope flutters in your chest without your permission.

You clear your throat in an attempt to not sound winded. “Really?”

You’re itching to ask if he cleared out his schedule specifically for you, but luckily, you don’t even have to make a fool of yourself because his secretary brings it up herself.

She smiles, “He had me move things around so he could make time for you.”

At that, you blink at her, speechless.

These double meanings are not helping in easing your nerves about this impending encounter.

“You can go ahead,” she gestures to the office, effectively snapping you out of your reverie. “I already gave him the heads up that you’re here.”

Great, you think to yourself. No turning back now.

After shooting her a quick thank you, you clutch the folder to your chest, as if it’s some sort of protective gear, and walk to his door. Upon reaching it, you realize that you don’t even have to knock, because it’s already slung wide open and held in place by a stopper.

You walk in.

Refusing to look at Bakugou, who, from the corner of your eye you can see has his back towards you and is looking at the view of the city skyline, you opt for going through the pages of the file instead.

With a sharp inhale, you finally look up to meet his gaze, only to find that he’s still turned away from you.

He probably didn’t hear me come in, you think.

You clear your throat, and he startles, albeit so minutely anyone else would’ve missed it, finally turning to regard you.

“Hello, Bakugou-san.”

You don’t wait for him to greet you in return. You simply move forward and place the folder on his desk, before stepping back again, hands clasped together behind you. He nods in acknowledgment and shifts to sit on his office chair.

“That folder contains the report on the recruits, including your new sidekick, Moriyama Kairi. It includes their personal histories, interview transcripts, and resumés, as well as recommendations by the departments regarding costumes, training programs, and the like.”

He only grunts in response, thumbing through the pages as you speak. He flips through them so fast that you doubt he’s even going to bother anything beyond skimming through.

He pauses, though, on a certain page, eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowing as he examines it, before closing the folder and placing it back in front of him.

You brace yourself for a comment on an error of some sort.

Instead, he says: “Thanks.”

Your mind goes blank.

You scramble for a decent response.

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

“...Really?” he questions skeptically, pushing back on his desk to stand up, slowly circling it so that he can be face-to-face with you. He’s no less than two feet away now.

“It’s nothing?”

“I mean,” you stutter, shifting your eyes away from him to look at his desk, “it’s my job. That’s part of the job description.”

“Huh,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. Your eyes flicker back to him. Like Kirishima, he’s in his regular clothes, hands shoved deep into his pockets.

“What?” you ask despite yourself, frustration bleeding into your voice.

He smirks, but there’s no malice behind it. “I didn’t know HR was supposed to produce a detailed write-up on how a sidekick can best complement their assigned Pro Hero.”

Your eyes widen slightly in alarm, and you find yourself grappling for any excuse to rid yourself of his suspicions.

Despite them being true.

“We are, actually,” you lie through your teeth. “I made a similar one for Kirishima back when we recruited Tanaka-san.”

“Really?” he asks again, visibly unconvinced, and you can’t help the annoyance that flashes through you. “Because I read through that file myself, and I didn’t see anything of the sort.”

Shit.

The playful expression that once adorned Bakugou’s face is now displaced by a serious countenance. You don’t even get to have a word in because he’s already speaking again.

“Why?” he starts, “Why did you do this for me?”

At that, you straighten up, face flaming in anger or embarrassment—you can’t tell. He seriously can’t be asking you this.

“It’s your first sidekick,” you retort, “And you’re not exactly Mr. Congeniality around here.”

You expect him to bite back with an insult himself, but he doesn’t.

“Okay, let’s say that’s true.”

You guffaw, “Wha–”

“Why go out of your way to make me this when you’re already drowning in work?”

You can’t believe the audacity of this guy.

“So you admit HR has been swamped these days?” you snap, but continue to deliver the last blow. “Oh, of course, you wouldn’t know! Since it’s Kirishima who does all of the coordinating work with us.”

“I do know,” he spits back, “That’s by design, and I’m more involved than you’d think. And,” he shoots you a look, “don’t change the subject.”

You’re bubbling with vengeful words but what comes out is a huff.

“What do you want me to say, Katsuki?”

At your taunting, he opens his mouth to say something, but ultimately decides against it.

Your stomach drops in disappointment.

“...Well,” you say meekly, “if you don’t have anything else for me, I have to get back to my office.”

Turning your back to him, you’re about to head for the door when he grabs your wrist.

“Wait.”

Your heart leaps in your chest.

You pause for a moment, before spinning to look at him.

It takes you less than a second to conclude that gone is the aloof and composed Bakugou.

It’s now the vulnerable Katsuki, who’s unable to look you in the eye, standing in front of you.

“Fuck, I…”

You can’t help but ache at the sight of him struggling. Despite yourself, you try and gently coax it out of him.

“What is it, Katsuki?”

At your affectionate mention of his first name, he finally meets your eye. You almost stumble back from the intensity of his gaze.

But not as much as at what he was going to say next.

“I want…you to admit it.”

You frown, “Admit what?”

He exhales before closing his eyes shut.

“That you’re still in love with me.”

tagging. @katsukis1wife

ー　goddess of love

.｡.:* a haikyuu socmed au

♡ synopsis : y/n is once again complaining about being single so sugawara tells her to talk to his friend kiyoko, aka the ‘goddess of love’, to help match her up with someone.

♡ pairings : y/n x various (it’s a surprise!), yamaguchi x yachi, bokuto x akaashi

♡ themes : fluff, comedy, angst, potential smut in future posts

→ disclaimer : the first chapters were originally posted on twitter but rewritten for tumblr , will contain manga spoilers

♡ profiles: y/n’s friend group

♡ chapters: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20] [21] [22] [23] [24] [25] [26] [27] [28] [29] [30] [31] [32] [33] [34] [35] [36] [37] [38] [39] [40] [41] [42] [43] [44] [45] [46] [47] [48] [49] [50] [51] [52] [53] [54] [55] [56] [extra 1] [57] [58] [extra 2]

!! this is a completed work

the walls are thin // masterlist

in which atsumu is your college neighbor with whom you share a wall.

~ ᴀᴛsᴜᴍᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ~ current wc: 16803 ᴡᴏʀᴅs status: in progress ( 3 / 8 chapters posted ) fic & masterlist updated every tuesday! ~~

oh but ofc she's got a playlist (♡) "what a shame it would be if you left her now"

the general vibe: incessant fluff, 18+ eventual smut (with small nsfw desc & bits in the meantime), small bits of angst (it's an 8 chapter story there's going to be some conflict) what you're getting yourself into: atsumu is very sexually active, complicated feelings (but no miscommunication trope), a LOT of flirting, hanamaki takahiro side piece ♡ , seijoh 4 & msby besties, slow burn (ish?), seriously so much fluff, tiny bit of angst, afab reader she/her pronouns, will provide tags for each chapter!! ~~

ch1. your annoying, stupid, inconsiderate, really fucking hot neighbor

ch2. stupid, annoying, really attractive, super funny, ravishingly charming atsumu

ch3. perfectly inconsiderate, maybe cluelessly oblivious

ch4. (coming soon) incredibly heart-warming, stupidly romantic

♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

rumor has it || masterlist .

✧ ｡ synopsis : though hajime has reassured you time and time again that you two attending different schools would be plenty manageable in your guys’ relationship, your imagination is left to wander when he slowly begins to ghost you.

general masterlist .

✧ ｡ pairing : hajime iwaizumi x fem!reader

✧ ｡ genre : chaotic humor, fluff, angsty when you don’t expect it, smau

✧ ｡ warnings : cursing, suggestive if you squint, mentions of affairs/cheating

✧ ｡ taglist : closed! hope you guys enjoy the series!

✧ ｡ posting schedule : the rest of act III will be posted every wednesday and friday, 5:00pm EST !

00. ༉‧ profiles

y/n’s seijoh squad || karasuno squad

ACT I .

# 01 ༉‧ crappysuno

# 02 ༉‧ simping

# 03 ༉‧ f for effort

# 04 ༉‧ wine at 2am, part one

# 04.5 ༉‧ wine at 2am, part two

# 05 ༉‧ karasuno protection squad

# 06 ༉‧ eye on selener + written segment

ACT II .

# 07 ༉‧ bad habits

# 08 ༉‧ party crashers

# 09 ༉‧ TGIF

# 10 ༉‧ justice for y/n

# 11 ༉‧ pregame jitters

# 12 ༉‧ the breaking point

# 13 ༉‧ sugawara’s wrath + written segment

# 14 ༉‧ cheater mcbastard

# 15 ༉‧ what you deserve

# 16 ༉‧ goody goody + written segment

# 17 ༉‧ yes or no — written part

ACT III .

# 18 ༉‧ snake free zone

# 19 ༉‧ fallen soldier

# 20 ༉‧ y/n’s boy troubles

# 21 ༉‧ pity party

# 22 ༉‧ uncomfortable

# 23 ༉‧ overwhelmed

# 24 ༉‧ wrong and selfish

# 25 ༉‧ ten minutes

# 26 ༉‧ trust your judgement

# 27 ༉‧ the sun goes down

# 28 ༉‧ to forgive or forget

જ — a/n : thank you to ai anonnie for giving me the inspo to do this smau, hehe, your brain is very talanted 🥺 tis my first time doing something like this, so pls bear with me 👉🏼👈🏼 enjoy!

“i was wondering if i could have your instagram?”

your heart hammered against your chest as the anticipation weighed down on your shoulders as you stood in front of the confused boy in front of you.

“ah… i’ll have to get back to you on that.” iwaizumi replied quietly as your stomach dropped.

“oh… okay then thanks anyway!” you forced a friendly tone out to mask the utter humiliation and upset that had washed over your mood entirely upon the few words the dark haired boy offered.

the rest of the class was a blur to you. you spent majority of the time staring blankly ahead of you to face the backs of forgettable classmates heads. the only classmate that mattered to you in this particular class had rejected you just before the teacher walked in so from this moment on you had no motivation to pay attention or look forward this class.

the end bell rang and you mindlessly threw your belongings into your bag before dragging yourself through the halls to your locker to collect the rest of your belongings and head home. you didn’t even bother to wait for your friends, no. they could wait until you were in the comfort of your own home to hear you scream over the phone how embarrassed you were as a result of the rejection over something as casual as asking to be instagram buddies.

‘what sort of loser gets rejected for that?’ you almost had to laugh it was so stupid. ‘whatever.’ you thought as your feet carried you to the front gates of the school. you’d have to apologise to your friends in advance before blowing up the groupchat with your over dramatic tendencies but a little tlc from your friends was needed at this vital milestone of your life; your first ever rejection.

upon the endless string of thoughts running through your mind as you walked, you failed to pick up on the voice that had been calling after you repeatedly from behind you. you tended up at the feeling of someone gently tugging on your sleeve out of nowhere but that surprise was nothing compared to the surprised you felt upon seeing the culprits gaze.

“iwaizumi?” you asked as your classmate caught his breath. “you on a mission or something?” he huffed a little as you frowned. “yes. a mission to get home, so see ya!” you replied quickly as your pace in walk picked up again.

before you could march off, a hand tugging on the strap of your bag stopped you before you could flee the scene which happened to include the last face on earth you wanted to see right now. “before you run off again,” he started before pulling his phone out his pocket. “my instagram. you said you wanted it?”

you looked at the device in his hands with confusion. zero followers, zero posts, zero following and a cute yet handsome photo of iwaizumi in place of the profile picture icon. “i didn’t have one earlier when you asked, so i made one during that class so you could add me.” he rubbed the back of his neck and looked away from you as you fought the urge to pounce on him and bite him.

‘he’s so fucking cute.’

you tapped your own handle into his phone and followed yourself before grabbing your own phone to immediately follow him back. a weird sense of pride came over you seeing his follower and following go up by one and that one being you.

“you didn’t have to do that.” you insisted as you handed his phone back to him. “nah, i should’ve made one ages ago but i just never got around to it.” he admitted, the heat on his face finally calming down. “but now you can message me if you ever need anything… or if you just wanted to you know, talk?“ he muttered as the urge to bite the shit out of this man piqued once more.

“i’ll definitely message you if i need anything or if i want to talk but you can do the same too!” you hummed as you slipped your phone back into your pocket.

“i’ll keep that in mind.” he smiled before turning around to walk away. “please do.” you shot back before turning to make your own way home. offering a quick exchange in waves you marched home ready to text your groupchat about what had just happened until you felt your phone vibrate.

‘@iwa.hajime has sent you a message: see you tomorrow :)’

on second thought. maybe your group chat could wait.

"hi rudolph." you greeted atsumu with a laugh, poking your finger against the tip of his nose, which was tinged a light shade of red by the winter air.

"oh, shut up." atsumu retorted, though the corners of his mouth curved up into a small smile. you leaned in, gently booping his nose with your finger again, causing him to crack into a wide grin.

he pulled your hand away from his face before you could squish his nose for a third time, opting to fit it snugly in his own. "i couldn’t find my scarf." he explained with a sigh, "i swear i saw it in the closet just the other day."

"oh?" you bit the inside of your cheek, quickly clearing your throat with an innocent smile. "well, that's weird."

"i know, right?" atsumu exclaimed, waving his arms around dramatically, "it was right in front of me—"

atsumu's voice slowly trailed off and he stopped dead in his tracks, body frozen still on the sidewalk. his eyes bore straight into yours, mouth agape with incredulity as his gaze slowly trailed down your features to your neck, where a warm scarf happily resided upon.

not just any scarf.

his scarf.

you watched his eyes slowly widening in realisation, comically, even, as they darted in disbelief between the scarf hanging around your neck, to your eyes, and back.

a wave of laughter escaped from you at the look of blatant shock flashing across his face. looping your arms around his neck, you pulled him down to press a kiss onto his flushed nose, then a peck on his cheek, and another one onto his slightly chapped lips.

"hey!" atsumu grumbled against your lips, gently pushing you away with a slight frown. "you took my scarf?"

"it was cold." you explained with a sheepish smile, arms still looped loosely around his neck while his now rested on your hips. "plus your scarf smells nice."

atsumu shook his head with a defeated smile. "what am i going to do with you." he muttered under his breath.

"you could give me your scarf forever." you suggested, sweeping a few stray strands of hair away from his face.

"you wish. buy your own one."

"that's mean, 'tsumu." you chided lightheartedly.

"meaner than leaving me to freeze to death?" atsumu questioned, cocking an eyebrow at you.

"fine." you huffed, reaching up for the scarf that hung securely around your neck.

his brows furrowed together as he watched you unravel half of the scarf from your neck. before he could voice his confusion, or rather, his concern that you should keep wearing the scarf in this cold weather, you tugged him closer by the collar of his jacket, successfully wrapping the other half of the scarf around his neck.

"so we're both warm." you announced proudly, your voice slightly muffled by the scarf.

atsumu chuckled, a tender smile adorning his features. he pulled you in by the waist, effectively closing in the distance between the two of you. "it's not going to work like this." he whispered. his forehead was now pressed against yours, puffs of his warm breath mingling together with yours in the cold air.

"then what do you propose?"

he smirked, a glint of mischief sparkling in his eyes as he suddenly turned around without warning. crouching down a little, he picked you up onto his back in one swift motion, tucking your legs just above his hips. somehow, even with all that movement, his scarf still lay firmly above both of your shoulders.

"does this work?" he asked. though he had already begun to take a few strides forward.

"yeah. i guess it does." you laughed, resting your head comfortably on his shoulder.

it was at that moment that atsumu decided he didn't mind if you stole his scarf. he didn't mind it at all. as long as you were willing to share it with him.

“I would lick the sweat off his thighs.”

chop

The knife barely misses the tip of Osamu’s finger as your voice, one of his regulars, slips through the crowd.

Onigiri Miya is packed with people watching tonight’s MSBY match and Osamu spares a quick glance your way.

You’re staring heatedly at the game with a few of your friends and tracing the rim of your glass.

“As if he’d let you,” one of your friends says with a smirk.

You snort. “Of course not. But god if he did, I’d lick him clean.”

Your friends laugh.

Osamu wants to know who you’re talking about but the crowd swallows the rest of what you’re saying.

Damn.

Obviously it’s a Jackal because you’re always in their merch but there’s never a name. No number. And you’re one of the few regulars-and-MSBY-fans who hasn’t tried to weasel their way into meeting the team through Osamu.

He enjoys having you in the shop because you get along with everyone and you’re one of the few people he considers a friend outside of the business owner-patron relationship so he can’t help it.

He’s curious.

He waits for clues as to who you were talking about but you don’t give anything away; you shout and cheer for everyone.

He fills more orders, deftly manages his staff, and takes an opportunity to walk the floor.

“How’re the boys doin’?” he asks when he stops by your table.

Your group shifts to include him, a few of your friends hungrily eyeing his fitted black t-shirt. “Not as good as you, handsome.”

He smirks appreciatively. “Obviously.” Then he juts his chin at the screen. “But they’re in the lead, at least. ‘Tsumu givin’ them any trouble?”

You snicker. “Nothing more than usual.”

Osamu nods, trying to hold back another smirk as he asks the group “did I hear somethin’ about one of them sweatin’?”

Your friends crow salaciously and turn to you as you suck your lips in, eyes bulging.

“OOOH, He heard y-” One of them breaks off with a lurch like you’ve kicked them under the table as another jeers. 

“Why? You jealous, Miya?” They wiggle their eyebrows. “You miss being oogled?”

He chuckles lowly and puts a hand on the back of your chair, noticing the way you’re avoiding his eye. “And who exactly are y’all ooglin’? Better not be ma dumb brother.”

“Never!” One of them leans forward as if they’re going to gush but you flick their forehead.

“No one.” You insist with a threatening smile to your friends. “You didn’t hear anything.”

Osamu snorts. “Sure I didn’t.” Feeling high from the thrill of your friends’ flirting he can’t help himself. “I must’a just imagined that comment about someone’s thighs.”

Your friends let out a synchronized cheer and you drop your forehead into your hands.

Osamu laughs but one of his workers calls him away before he can give you any more trouble.

The Jackals win and–to Osamu’s relief–you and your friends stay after the game. A lot of people do, too, caught up in the high of victory as interviews with the athletes play.

Osamu sneaks a text to his twin.

The restaurant’s still full when the team comes in to a raucous cheer and more rounds are ordered. Energy picking up like a second wind.

Atsumu greets his twin with a hug and whispers "which one?”

When they part Osamu directs him to you and your group of friends; Atsumu flicks his brow with a grin and Osamu feels like he’s back in high school.

“Heard we have some fans here,” he says sauntering over as your group shifts to welcome him like you did for Osamu. “Did y’all watch?”

“Of course we did!” one of your friends replies with a starry expression. “You were amazing!”

“Thank you, thank you.” He beams. “It was a very ex-thigh-ting game, if I say so myself.”

Osamu guffaws and chokes on a laugh as your blazing eyes immediately flick to him; your friends’ laughter encourages the setter.

“Did ya see my startl-lick-ing row of service aces in the second set?”

Their laughter roars and your eye twitches, expression scrunching at Osamu who looks away pointedly, torn between guilt and enjoyment.

“Sweat-sational, I’d say. Wouldn’t all of you?”

Osamu cringes internally; that one was a stretch but it was the final straw for you. As your friends break down to tears laughing you shove your chair back and storm away from the table making a straight line toward Osamu.

“Really?” you demand hotly and Osamu feels a fleeting moment of doubt. “You had to tell him?”

“Dunno what yer talkin’ about.” He shrugs innocently. “I didn’t hear anythin’.”

“Obviously you did,” you say tersely, dropping your voice leaning in. “Did you tell him just to make fun of me?!”

“No,” he says trying to sound lighthearted, “I was just try'na get them here so ya could meet whichever athlete it was ya wanted to be licking.”

For a moment he savors the way you gulp under his heavy, hooded gaze until a smirk slowly spreads across your own face.

“I wasn’t talking about an athlete.”

Heart pounding he looks down at the onigiri in his hands. “Oh no? Well who, then?”

You lean over the counter a little further, lowering your voice for only him to hear. “You, obviously.”

mistletoe mayhem.

summary: christmas traditions are always a joy to celebrate. you genuinely love making the gingerbread houses, seeing the christmas lights, and putting up all the holiday decorations. but why the hell are there so many mistletoe hanging from your friends' apartment?

pairing: fem!reader x bokuto kotaro

genre: friends (idiots) to lovers, christmas!theme, mutual pining, fluff

wc: 3k

a/n: totally forgot to repost this closer to the holidays but here you go!! hasn't been edited since 2020 so beware <333

“thanks for helping out,” hinata grins when he opens the front door of his apartment. his smile says, ‘welcome! come on in!’ but his eyes, wide and...is that fatigue? say ‘PLEASE, heLP.’

“please, even with four of you living here, I knew you’d need extra help,” you chuckle, stepping inside and slipping off your shoes. you shiver slightly as hinata closes the door behind you, allowing a gust of wind finds its way back to your already cold cheeks. you loved seeing snow on the ground around the holidays, but it’s moments when you have to travel in it that you lightly regret the wish for it.

amongst your friends, an annual holiday party always occurred as a big get-together to catch up with one another. this year it just so happens to be at four of your friends’ shared place. the msby resident dummies + sakusa’s place, as others liked to call it. you’d frown upon it but the fact that the three designated dummies announce themselves as that let you know that they’re not hurt by it. (sakusa’s quite pleased that whoever came up with the nickname made a point to exclude him from the trio.)

sheepishly smiling, hinata nods in agreement. “you’re probably right.”

“where’s everyone?” you ask over your shoulder while hanging your coat in the closet. 

you’re so used to the other boys acting like dogs at the sound of the front door opening, running at you in anticipation. now that you think about it, bokuto did tackle you to the ground (accidentally) at one point. right now, a rough hour before the party of the year, everyone seemed to be focused on getting all the preparations ready.

“atsumu’s on a call with osamu about food, sakusa is cleaning the bathroom...again, and bokuto should be -”

“y/n! y-you’re here already!” he’s tripping over himself as he runs out from a room, tugging a shirt over his head to look the least bit presentable.

you turn around at the voice, a smile already making its way on your face. “’course I am!” he meets you halfway in a bone-crushing hug.

“i missed ya,” bokuto murmurs into the crook of your neck, shutting his eyes.

“it’s only been a few weeks,” you laugh, lightly rubbing his back comfortingly.

“two weeks is a long time.”

“well,” you muse, lifting your hand to pinch his cheek lovingly, “i’m here now.”

he visibly relaxes and slightly leans into your touch before abruptly stiffening. you don’t notice that his eyes are trained on hinata’s who’s looking at him, making kissy faces. he quickly reaches for your shoulders to pull himself back and hold you at arms length, sheepishly smiling at your look of concern. “u-uhm, i should go! ... y’know, get back to hanging the banners...” 

before you could ask if any aid from you was needed, he’s already walking away from you backwards, jabbing his thumb in a direction behind him. you simply nod blankly, suppressing the slight frown that’s itching to spread on your face from how quickly he pushed himself off of you.

“so,” you turn back to hinata who’s smiling knowingly for a reason you don’t quite know. “where do i start?”

“you can come with me to help ‘tsumu in the kitchen! unless you wanna help bokuto-”

“all good here!” bokuto’s voice is an echo from an unknown part of the house and you feel your heart sink slightly. okay then.

shaking your head, brushing off the feeling, you face hinata. “wait, did you say atsumu?” you deadpan, “in the kitchen?”

“dont worry~” hinata smiles lazily, waving his hand, “osamu is telling him what to do.”

you nod and follow behind him, occasionally snickering at some of the photos hung on the walls. they weren’t the traditional photos where the boys would pose nicely beside one another. no, they were mostly from different angles, embarrassing poses and the frames had been vandalized decorated with different colored sharpies.

as you approach the kitchen, a familiar green plant hanging from the arched doorway makes your steps slow and you take a moment to ponder it.

“huh,” you look up in wonder, “i thought it was a tradition to have one mistletoe?” your eyebrows slightly furrow and you instinctively turn your head back to where the front door was. a sparkling mistletoe hung just above the space where shoes go, directly beside where the coat rack stood.

hinata hums in agreement. “yeah, it is.”

“then why have i seen two so far?”

“wh-what?”

“there’s one by the front door and now here.”

lifting a curious brow, he follows the direction you’re pointing in to take a look for himself. “i’m pretty sure we bought only one...” hinata trails off, scratching his temple in thought. he shrugs after a few seconds and carries on walking to the kitchen, ready to greet atsumu with a grin. he’s standing in front of the stove with a phone tucked in the space between his ear and right shoulder.

“look who’s here!” hinata shakes you by the shoulders in glee.

atsumu turns around and you notice his furrowed brows soften as a smile stretches across his face. “’samu, give me a sec,” he speaks into his phone before straightening his neck. “y/n!” 

you smile back, returning the hug the bigger man engulfed you in. following your greetings and a brief casual conversation, you can hear osamu grow impatient over the phone. he’d been on his break at his onigiri shop and his twin stalling his free time was not the way he wanted to spend his time. only did his tone lighten when you greeted him through the receiver.

“right,” atsumu snaps his fingers as if just remembering he’d been on the phone with his brother, “ok, ‘samu go on.”

the three of you continue working in the kitchen, where atsumu attempts to make the main course while you and hinata arrange several appetizer plates.

“you know bo is going to finish these before anyone shows up, right?” you raise a knowing brow, lifting a toothpick with some cheese stuck on the end of it.

“yeah,” hinata admits, “that’s why we’re making double the amount. we’re hiding the other plates in the fridge,”

“ah,” you nod. “good thinking.”

“i heard my name!” 

bokuto’s head pops out from behind the doorway leading to the kitchen, looking between the three of you owlishly. he’s about to ask what exactly you’re talking about when his eyes fall on the plate in front of you. “ooh, cheese!” he shuffles over and grabs three toothpicks and shoves the cheese in his mouth with a satisfied smile.

you and hinata share a pointed look.

“are the banners ready?” hinata asks after watching bokuto eat four more cheese-sticks.

“mhm,” he hums with a proud, toothless smile. “all done.”

“great, well, we’re just waiting on ‘tsumu and then that’s it,” hinata smiles in relief. the party was to start in a half hour or so, so to be on time with setting up was considered an achievement for the orange haired boy.

-

two hours later, you’re caught between conversations with different people, some you’ve met before and some new faces you’ve only heard the name of in a conversation. (you finally met the famous kageyama and plan to matchmake him and hinata by the end of the night ;D)

on your way to refill your glass, a familiar mop of disarray hair peaks your attention.

“kuroo, hey!”

“y/n~” kuroo greets with a lazy smile, lightly patting your head. “how’ve you been?”

“eh, you know how it is. good days and bad days,” you shrug with a dismissive smile. 

“definitely know what you’re saying,” he huffs with a nod.

“how’s the office?”

you met kuroo at the holiday party a year ago through bokuto. you remember how excited he was, putting kuroo in a near choke-hold just so you could meet one of his very best friends. (you glance over at akaashi when he says this and he simply nods giving you a clear look saying, ‘i’m the other best friend.’) 

“doing well, lots of paperwork though,” he says before catching sight of something behind you. before you can take a look for yourself, he asks, “hey, you’re over at the boys’ place often, right?”

quirking an eyebrow at his inquiry, you nod unsurely, “i guess? bo invites me to movies night pretty often so i tend to visit a lot.”

“he does, does he? now, may i ask, do you know that-”

“y/n!” bokuto appears beside you, lightly grasping your elbow, bringing you out of your conversation with kuroo.

kuroo smiles wickedly at bokuto whose cheeks are flushed from embarrassment, already knowing where kuroo was going with his question. fortunate for him, you just think it’s from the alcohol.

“hey bokuto.”

“kuroo,” bokuto’s head quickly whips toward the tall man in front of you, “i think kenma’s calling for you.”

raising his hands in surrender, kuroo sighs, “ok, ok. i guess i’ll just go...and find kenma.”

“mhm, yes you should,” bokuto nods vigorously. kuroo gives him a final look and you’re sure they’re having some sort of mental conversation because neither of them look away until kuroo smiles and turns away.

“are you guys okay?” you ask when kuroo leaves. “that was kinda weird.”

“we’re fine!” bokuto grins, gently guiding you throughout the house. “so tell me, updates?”

“updates?” you repeat, knitting your brows together.

“since i last saw you! work, home, i don’t know.” he’s rubbing the back of his neck by the end of his statement. cogs start turning in your head but you’re still unable to put your finger on why everything seems so suspicious lately; hinata’s knowing smiles, bokuto’s obvious nervousness (?), kuroo’s smirk which is more mischievous than usual, what could it all mean?

“oh, well ah, not much? i caught up on that show i was telling you about,” you shrug, “besides that, life’s been pretty boring.”

as you speak, he’s still walking with you, occasionally stopping to look around nonchalantly.

yeah, you’re definitely missing something.

“hm” he hums in acknowledgement, shoving his hands into his pockets and begins lightly rocking on his heels. what’s the point in asking if you’re not even paying attention?

“bo, are you o-”

“huh, that’s funny,” bokuto cuts you off, pointing up toward the ceiling, “mistletoe.”

you freeze, eyes slowly trailing up to the ceiling where, yes, a nicely hung mistletoe was, adorned with pretty red ribbon. 

but...

you’re standing in a spot you and hinata passed earlier and where there was no mistletoe hung then.

hold on a second.

your eyes squint as you look back down at bokuto and analyze his sheepish grin and red ears. “uh-huh. strange, don’t you think?”

“strange?” his eyes grow in wonder. “why strange?”

“because i could’ve sworn it wasn’t there when i walked in...”

“hmmm, that is strange,” bokuto quickly agrees, rubbing his chin. “maybe ‘tsumu is trying to get some or somethi-”

“-alright mister, fess up. i know it’s you who’s putting up all the mistletoe,” you challenge, raising an eyebrow. 

that had to be it, right?

you recall the numerous other times bokuto stopped in the house and you can bet that if you look back, there’d be mistletoe hung somewhere around you.

“wh-what? no, it’s not!” the blush that travels from his ears to his cheeks is enough confirmation.

you cross your arms, giving a pointed expression. after a moment of the two of you staring at each other, he slouches. 

“yeah, it was me. i just...i didn’t know how to...so it’d be easier...and then..yeah.”

“you put up all that mistletoe and intended on staying with me for the entirety of the party and the eventually, inevitably, be under the mistletoe together...right?”

he pouts but nods, “...yeah.”

you’d known bokuto for almost two years now now but recently – well, the past few visits, at least – you’ve noticed something slightly off. when you sit beside him on the couch, he’s unnaturally stiff and more aware of his positions. 

whereas two months ago, this guy would be totally comfortable draping his legs over yours or laying his head in your lap innocently, now even a slight brush of limbs gets him red and apologetic so quickly.

you weren’t sure if you’d done something wrong or he was going through something but to have that level of intimacy, albeit you were just friends, just end so quickly hurt.

you contemplated the reason for frequently yet you could never come to an answer because even though alone, he was more distanced and to himself, he could also be the same bokuto you met months ago. his hugs stayed warm, his smiles stayed bright, and his words stayed true.

but watching him shuffle his feet, staring down at the floor so you could only see his red ears, it all seems to click.

there’s another beat of silence between the two of you.

“y’know, if you just wanted to kiss me, you coulda just asked,” you mumble, feeling a blush of your own paint your cheeks. 

“i wanted to be smooth.”

the utter seriousness of his voice makes you laugh and he finally looks up at you. 

“your smoothness isn’t going to change how i feel about you.”

his head bobs up to face you again. “it isn’t?”

boldly, you take a step closer to him and you voice falls to a whisper. “no.”

you hear his breath hitch in his throat and your own heart begins to race. thank goodness bokuto decided to mention the mistletoe in a spot no one was around in because if you had an audience right now, you’d simply die from the embarrassment of being teased and hollered at. 

he closes the gap between the two of you, pressing his lips to yours for a quick peck. just as quickly as your lips meet, they pull away. bokuto’s entire face has gone red at this point and he’s staring into your eyes with a rather worried expression. 

but after seeing the small smile grow on your face and your own flushed cheeks, a large grin appears and he leans in, this time with more fervor. he holds your face with big hands, bringing you closer so you’re snug against his torso. he leans the two of you slightly forward so he’s holding you up and the only thing keeping you from falling is your firm grip on his dress shirt, which was once nicely steamed. yep, creases were definitely to be shown after this.

it’d be a lie if you said you never thought of your friend in a romantic light.

especially when he traps you in between his beefy arms in a hug. especially when he allows you to talk his ear off to your heart’s content. especially when he brings you snacks and movies during your time of the month.

hell, how could you not notice you were treating bokuto like your boyfriend already?

“okay, bo, i get it,” you giggle as he peppers kisses on every inch of your face.

“can’t. stop. need. to. make. up. for. lost. time.” he leans away at the last word, bringing you back to your feet. the blush on his face is slightly faded, his nerves obviously dissipated, but his grin remains the widest you’ve ever seen. lifting a hand, he lightly caresses your cheek.

“you don’t know how much i’ve wanted to do that,” he murmurs, blinking slowly. 

“what took you so long then?” your voice is soft as you lean your cheek further into his palm. funny that now you were the one blushing like a tomato.

“i...i didn’t want to mess up anything we had.”

you understand his reasoning. the two of you did meet through akaashi, your coworker in your workplace, and your relationship began as strictly platonic. while bokuto didn’t have time to date, you simply weren’t ready for a relationship.

the two of you grew closer soon after your meeting until you eventually became a core part of bokuto’s life. 

you don’t remember exactly when your feelings for him blossomed but you’re definitely aware of them now.

“this means you like me too, right?” he pauses and freezes in place. 

rolling your eyes, you tilt you head. “yes, dummy.”

he leans in again to peck your lips once more before you stop him.

“wait...how many mistletoe did you hang up around the house throughout the night?”

bokuto lets out a nervous chuckle, looking down. looking back up, he sheepishly smiles, “twelve?”

“twelve!?” you repeat, widening your eyes.

“kuroo said the more opportunities, the better!” he defends with a whine.

“ah, kuroo was a part of this plan?” you muse, raising an eyebrow. now the suspicious behavior between the two of them made sense.

“he gave me the idea,” he mumbles, “and he said he’d tell you if i didn’t hurry up and kiss you already...gotta thank him, though.”

“guess we do,” you smile, running your hands along his chest in attempt to flatten out wrinkle marks on his dress shirt. you sigh when it does no help.

you don’t notice the way his lips twitch up in amusement at your slight frustration. “it’s fine. it was bound get messed up at some point. whether it be a salsa stain or wrinkles.”

you laugh, looking back up at him.

“so,” he steps away from you, offering his hand for you to hold. “shall we?”

“shall we what?” you ask, cautiously taking his hand.

“make our debut as cutest couple, of course,” he grins with a wink, “oh! and to kiss you under all the other mistletoe. i didn’t spend all that money to not put it to use.”

“dork,” you mumble but allow him to guide you through the house, only this time shouting, ‘this is my girlfriend now!’ at every face he passes.

(cue you blushing at the knowing wink kuroo sends you and the thumbs up akaashi sends.)

but hey, throughout all this mistletoe madness, you snagged a boyfriend you know will shower you in all the love and affection you could ever desire.

miya atsumu knows he’s going to be late.

yet he’s got his phone pressed to his ear, tapping his foot as he waits for the person on the other end to pick up. he sighs in relief when sakusa picks up with a grumble.

“aren’t you supposed to be on a date? why are you bothering me?”

“i can’t figure out which flowers to get,” the setter admits, tugging at the knot on his tie. you’re probably going to text him soon, wondering where he is. he really hopes you’re not pouting, hopes you’re not standing at the door with that concerned crease between your brows that he’ll have to smooth away with his thumb.

“i’m sure any bouquet would be fine.”

atsumu, still peering at the shop’s collection of roses, just scoffs at his teammate. “but it has to be perfect. it’s our first date since making things official.”

red roses would be the logical choice, he thinks. simple, timeless, classic, he’d once heard the shop owner describe them as. in other words, they’re romantic as heck.

but atsumu’s bought red roses for every date he’s gone on in the past. this date is special– you’re special. not just any bouquet of red roses will do.

“then get her favourite flower,” sakusa suggests when atsumu tells him this. “you can’t go wrong with that.”

“that’s a good idea,” atsumu hums thoughtfully, staring hard at the blooms.

“you don’t know her favourite flower, do you?”

a pause. atsumu feels his cheeks begin to warm. “well–”

“just say no, miya.”

“fine! i don’t know!” the setter admits, exasperated. but he knows other things, really! he knows who you’re rooting for on this season of the bachelor. he knows how you like your coffee and that he’s your favourite player on msby.

(okay, maybe second favourite. who didn’t love bokuto?)

he can practically hear his teammate rolling his eyes. “bouquets can be made up of more than one flower, you know. even if you choose wrong, i doubt it’ll affect her opinion of you.”

atsumu shifts his focus to the bigger arrangements. sure they’re a little pricier, but you’re worth it. “thanks, omi. the one with the sunflowers seems nice.” he snaps a quick picture and sends it to his teammate.

“sure. and if i were you, i’d be more concerned about other things.” omi continues as atsumu points out a bouquet and pulls out his wallet to pay.

“oh yeah? like what?”

“like the fact that you talk with food in your mouth. you also inhale food like you’re never going to eat again.”

“hey!” he argues, startling the florist. “i grew up with samu— if you didn’t eat fast, you didn’t eat at all!”

omi, of course, ignores him. “you talk a lot. you’re also terrible at directions—”

“i am not,” he huffs, taking the bouquet. “as much as i’m lovin’ this pep talk, i’ve gotta go. i’ll call you tomorrow morning to let you know how it goes.”

“please don’t.”

atsumu spends the car ride to your apartment disproving every one of omi’s statements in his head. he only talked with food in his mouth when he was excited! and sometimes he just had to fire a joke off before the topic changed! and so what if he got them lost that one time they were in sendai? he didn’t know the location he’d picked had been for the north entrance, and not the south one.

he pulls up to the curb in front of your building, checking his phone to see one text from you.

>> on your way?

>> i can meet you downstairs

he shoots off a text telling you to stay put because he’s on his way up, a slight skip in his step as he gets out of his car. he’s lucky enough to catch someone leaving, flashing them his pr smile when they hold the door.

he bounces on his heels in the elevator, going over what he’s going to say when you open the door. a simple “hi” just wouldn’t suffice. should his compliment your hair first? or your outfit?

the doors open on the fourth floor, and atsumu’s heart thumps in his chest as he counts down the doors to yours. apartment 407.

he knocks, taking a step back and attempting to smooth the mess of hair on his head. but when the door opens, he finds that he has more pressing issues.

because he comes to the painful realization that omi was right.

“yes?” the old woman asks, looking him up and down. “can i help you, young man?”

atsumu’s stunned, still hoping that you perhaps lived with your grandmother. “i’m sorry, i—”

“oh, how lovely! are these from my grandson?” she asks, taking the bouquet from his grasp. “i love sunflowers. wait here—” the old woman reaches into her apartment, producing a wallet. “i have to tip you.”

“oh, ma’am,” he starts, taking a step back. “i’m not—”

she just hushes him, pressing a few bills into his hand.

well, if she insists.

_____

when atsumu exits the apartment, you’re waiting by his car, amused smirk on your lips.

“take a little detour?”

“just, uh, visiting my grandmother.”

your brows raise in surprise. “i thought she live in hyogo?”

he really did talk too much. “okay, so i got a little lost. and i got you flowers, but she took them! they were real pretty too, with sunflowers ‘n daisies! i can show ya a picture—”

“atsumu,” you laugh, resting your hands on his shoulders and pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “it’s fine, really.”

you’re the one smoothing the crease between his brows and you smile up at him, causing a hot blush to creep up past the collar of his shirt.

“now come on, i’m hungry. don’t worry, i’ll pull up the directions to the restaurant on my phone.”

“hey!”

signed, ♡

an interactive HQ!! fic

“a love letter falls out of your shoe locker and they’ve only signed off with a heart. they want to stay anonymous but they say finding them won’t be that hard. if you want to know who, then to suzue is where you’ll go… but you only have 7 days and after that… perhaps you’ll never know.”

tags、slowburn, high school timeline, fluff, slight angst (dependent on choices), friends to lovers,

pairing[s] & characters、inarizaki x she/her!reader, best friend!oc,

endings、2 possible endings

START

rumor has it || masterlist .

✧ ｡ synopsis : though hajime has reassured you time and time again that you two attending different schools would be plenty manageable in your guys’ relationship, your imagination is left to wander when he slowly begins to ghost you.

general masterlist .

✧ ｡ pairing : hajime iwaizumi x fem!reader

✧ ｡ genre : chaotic humor, fluff, angsty when you don’t expect it, smau

✧ ｡ warnings : cursing, sexual references & innuendoes, mentions of affairs/cheating

✧ ｡ taglist : closed! hope you guys enjoy the series!

✧ ｡ posting schedule : kinda sporadic, depending if i have time during the school week to do a little bit at a time HDJDJD

00. ༉‧ profiles

y/n’s seijoh squad || karasuno squad

ACT I .

# 01 ༉‧ crappysuno

# 02 ༉‧ simping

# 03 ༉‧ f for effort

# 04 ༉‧ wine at 2am, part one

# 04.5 ༉‧ wine at 2am, part two

# 05 ༉‧ karasuno protection squad

# 06 ༉‧ eye on selener + written segment

ACT II .

# 07 ༉‧ bad habits

# 08 ༉‧ party crashers

# 09 ༉‧ TGIF

# 10 ༉‧ justice for y/n

# 11 ༉‧ pregame jitters

# 12 ༉‧ the breaking point

# 13 ༉‧ sugawara’s wrath + written segment

# 14 ༉‧ cheater mcbastard

#15 ༉‧ what you deserve

#16 ༉‧ goody goody + written segment

જ — a/n : thank you to ai anonnie for giving me the inspo to do this smau, hehe, your brain is very talanted 🥺 tis my first time doing something like this, so pls bear with me 👉🏼👈🏼 enjoy!

Osamu is not the partying type.

Yes, he knows how to have a good time, be able to put back a few and let loose with his old buddies from volleyball, when his employees hit a milestone or a birthday, he’s always been able to monitor just how much he’s drinking to keep a level head.

But for as much as Osamu could drink? Easily tripled by the challenge of Sunarin or Atsumu.

And tonight, when the former helps an inebriated Osamu past the threshold into your home with the cockiest smirk on his face, you know Atsumu is just as drunk in the back of Aran’s car.

“Does the shop needed to be closed tomorrow?” You grumble, and Rintaro shrugs as he passes your boyfriend to your shoulder.

“Kita-San insisted on cleaning up- granted it was Atsumu’s puke, but the restaurant’s clean none the less, if you had to open.”

“Gonna literally kiss him on the mouth,” you sigh, nodding a smile to Suna. “Thanks for getting him home alive.”

“No worries. Just make sure he drinks plenty of water. Drank Atsumu under the whole damn table.”

“Will do. Get home safe, hun.”

With that, the middle blocker parts, leaving you with the inebriated chef who towers over you, despite swaying and leaning 98% of his weight on you.

Great.

“Fucking asshole,” you grumble. “Was only having a few drinks and taking an Uber too much for you to handle-“

“My girlfriend doesn’t like me taking Uber’s,” Osamu says as sternly as he could. “Says they’re dangerous.”

You chuckle at his words, echoed from you every time he suggests it.

“Your girlfriend sounds like a really smart lady.” He leans his entire weight on you now, and you grunt softly as you aide him in the house, tripping over his own feet as you both waddle.

“Awwww yeah,” Osamu assures proudly. “So smart... like the other day I lost my earbuds...” his voice trails off in the middle of his story, as if he forgot the timeline. “And she’s got these like, boobs...” he smiles dopily as he remembers your… features, and you offer him a full blown laugh and a smack against his chest. Wide eyes flick down to your frame, and he blanches- as much as he could, his cheeks were a scarlet flush from the alcohol- at your touch.

“No thanks,” he pouts. “I ‘ave a girlfriend… ‘nd she’ll come fight you if you touch me…” he gathers your hands in his before messily shoving them back towards your chest, “is not you- is me. I love her. ‘N she’ll fight you.”

Is that what he tells people?

“Your girlfriend doesn’t scare me,” you snort, plopping him down on the couch while he giggles a soft “whee!” You shake your head as you help him take off his shoes, “maybe she shouldn’t let such a handsome man go out all by himself.”

“She loves me!” He pouts. Not that that’s what you said, but sure. “Here, I’ll give her a call right now, ‘nd she’ll make you cry.”

“Go for it, baby.”

He gives you a scowl and clumsily clicks at his phone, eyes crossing every once in a while from the brightness. He passes you his phone, “can… can you j’ss click her?? She’s under ‘wifey.’” Sure enough, as you take his phone and scroll through the texts he’s sent through the night, and your heart flutters at the sight of your contact name: Wifey 🌹💍

With a smirk, you click the contact and call yourself, staring back at osamu when just a few feet away, your phone buzzes on the couch. His head lazily lulls over to see it, “yer already on the phone, I’ll get it-“ he clicks the big, green answer button. “Hello?”

“Osamu?”

“Baby!” He yells in the receiver. “Save me, I got this lady tryna take off my pants!” He gives you another glare, and you poke your tongue in your cheek. “Told her that you’d come fight her so…”

“Is she pretty?”

At your question, Osamu’s jaw slacks and opens repeatedly, incredulously trying to find the words that could convey his emotions for the question. “B-Baby!”

“Osamu-“

“That doesn’t matter! I’m not Assmu, ‘m loyal! You gonna come fight fer me or what?”

“Oh my god-“ you hang up his phone and toss it back to him, grabbing yours from his weak grip. “Sweetheart, I’m your girlfriend,” you remind him, pulling your phone out and showing him your lock screen. Eyes flick between you and the picture, and clearly he’s very confused how you caught this without his consent. You roll your eyes and promptly show him his own lock screen, which is you both at an MSBY game. “See? You love me or something, remember?”

Then, his thick brows furrow, and his head rolls around his neck as if shaking for the memories of you two together.

“Waitta minute,” he says suspiciously, leaning back fully against the couch. “You’re ma girlfriend?” Grey eyes glaze over you, and you wonder if this will lead to a brawl in the morning, or if it’s a genuine question that just so happens to sound like he’s disappointed.

“Yeah,” you scoff. “You got a problem with that?”

His eyes flick over you one more time, and a slow smirk splays on his face- you know he thinks he’s putting the moves on you, but it’s so hard to not just laugh in his face as he’s doing so.

“Fuckin’ score dawg,” he says to himself, raising one hand before using the other to give himself a high-five. You’re unable to fight the snort that pulls from your mouth, collapsing against him while you laugh in his chest. “‘M gonna tell my brother,” he hiccups. “Gonna be soooo pissed that I got such a pretty girlfriend…”

You don’t have the heart to tell him that Atsumu actually set you two up, so you let his drunken mind formulate a fake scenario that he will no doubt forget come following the nauseating hangover in the morning.

But that’s okay; even drunk enough to be concerning, it makes you happy to know Osamu still is loyal to a fault, telling other women about you and trying his best to make you sound scary.

Even if you are the other woman, apparently.

Relationship goals (Atsumu Miya)

Atsumu's been dying to ask you to help dye his hair since your first date.

Every time he sees a couple on socials making videos about doing each other's hair, he desperately wants to do the same with you. There's just this quiet domesticity about it which he wants so badly with his own significant other.

So much so that every since you agreed to go out with him, he hasn't touched up his roots.

He tells you he can't be bothered with going to the hair dresser and just always does it at home, which is partly true in his defence. He and Osamu used to do each other's, and now, he's been known to make Hinata or Bokuto do it, both of whom are surprisingly good at working with hair.

But this? This is way better.

The focused look on your face in the mirror, that cute frown on your face as you carefully brush the bleach in close to the scalp as he'd told you too. His heart flutters as he recalls you looking videos up on Youtube, just to be sure you wouldn't mess his hair up.

You flick your eyes to his in the mirror, and smile as he snaps a pic for his Instagram. 'Seriously baby? I'm in my painting shirt.'

'And? You look hot with your hands in my hair.'

He yelped as your gloved fingers gently flicked his ear. 'Ye! Watch the bleach!'

'Oh relax, that's the clean hand. Will you put some music on, please?'

'Fine, meanie.' He stuck his tongue out at you in the mirror, and you waved the brush threateningly before gently bopping to the music he put on at your request.

Atsumu sneaks a video of you, tongue poking out in concentration, hips swaying to a familiar song, and sends it to the team group chat to gloat about having the "relationship goals" moment he'd been dreaming of.

"We get it, you're whipped.'' Replied Sakusa

"Dude, does (Y/N) wake up like that? They are so outta your league my guy."

Atsumu pouted at the screen. 'Baaaabe, Sho-kun's bein' an ass again!'

'Show me?' You leaned over his shoulder as he presented the screen to you, grinning at the message. 'D'aw, ain't that sweet.'

'Sweet?! Baby! I know you're gorgeous an' all but your man looks the part!'

You couldn't help but snort as he looked up and saw himself, dye in his hair, standing up at all angles. As soon as his cheeks turned red, you burst into laughter, and couldn't stop until he pinned you against the sink and kissed you quiet.