Atsumu Scenarios - Tumblr Posts

atsumu x reader - “ready for our date?”

genre: fluff?

warnings: slightly suggestive at the end

word count: 871

notes: inspired by that one tiktok i found while browsing through facebook

a part of you knew you shouldn't be doing this but you can't help it. you're only human and humans are weak to spontaneous ideas.

"this is just an experiment. surely he wouldn't be too mad if it's for science," you mumbled to yourself, a mischievous smile starting to bloom as you applied the last bit of your make-up.

finally standing up from the corner of your room, you sent one last glance at the mirror. an excited giggle unintentionally left your lips as you held your phone up, ready to record the events that would occur just a few seconds from now.

time to put on your acting face, dove.

"babe?" you drawled out the last syllable as you called for atsumu.

"on the couch!"

you let out a silenced evil cackle before resuming your confident persona as you approached the living room. as expected, he was lounging around in nothing but his sweatpants, legs propped up in the arms of the couch while he laughs over some random meme someone sent him. you paused for a moment, wondering if he's going to turn to look at you but his eyes never left the screen of his phone.

and you're about to change that.

"babe?" you called out casually, your eyes glancing at the phone you tried to hold as inconspicuously as possible.

"what?"

you felt irked that he's not looking at you after all that effort you did to make yourself presentable but you ignored that in favor of approaching him to run a dainty, freshly polished, hand across his muscular arm, "i'm ready."

"ready for what?" atsumu finally looked up at you only to drop his phone in shock as he eyed your sultry smile and form.

"wow. ya look good, babe. really good." you almost doubled over in laughter as you watched atsumu's dazed eyes trailing up and down your body suggestively. even so, you couldn't stop the bright smile that lit your face as atsumu sent you his own cute, toothy, lovestruck smile.

"well, i take it that you like how i look-"

"love, babe. i love how sexy ya look." you rolled your eyes at the appearance of his soft, sappy persona. it's rare for him to not be a complete joke of an asshole as he pretty much made it his goal to piss you off every single waking moment. it almost made you consider doing this more often just to get a glance at this cute side of his.

"thank you but aren't we going to be late?"

atsumu blinked once, then twice before finally asking, "late? what d'ya mean?"

you faked a gasp, raising a brow at him which seemed to trigger his alarms as he immediately sat up straight, grabbing your hand and rubbing little circles on it with his thumb as if saying 'please don't kill me.' you stifled a laugh as you realized that atsumu's soft eyes were now blown wide in panic.

"don't tell me you forgot... you told me you're taking me out on a date!"

he didn't reply, too busy churning the cogs of his head. did he invite you for one? when? he does admit that he has a thing for spontaneity and that he doesn't have the best memory. ironic, yes but his brain is too full of volleyball-related things to process anything else. still, he can't get over how he forgot such a big thing especially after seeing all the effort you did to dress up and look pretty.

he scratched his head. this was bad. terribly bad.

"baby?" atsumu raised his head and immediately showed you a bright smile contrasting the nerves he was feeling inside.

"'course not! how can i forget anything related to my baby?" lies. you were tempted to remind him of that one time he left you at the mall because he forgot you came with him but the show must go on.

"stay here, 'kay? i'm just gonna change my clothes. be back in ten!"

before he could go out of the room, you called for him. giving him a hug which was just an excuse to lean on him because you were losing your shit so bad, you almost flipped over.

"babe?" for once, atsumu wondered if you have gone insane.

"don't worry, 'tis just a prank!"

atsumu took a second and a half to process it before letting out a sigh of relief. but at the same time, he let his gaze linger on your form that was now awkwardly slumped over the couch in a very odd attempt to calm down.

"since yer all dressed up anyway, we might as well go out."

now this got you back, "wait. what?"

"stay there."

"wait. atsumu..." you looked at him in shock as the beginning of his cocky smile began to form at your flustered state, "no shit?"

"no shit," he laughed and you couldn't help but gulp as he suddenly looked at you with his hooded eyes that did nothing to hide his darker intentions.

"i wasn't lying when i said ya looked great but i know ya’ll look better when we come back home with nothin' on."

needless to say, your tiktok went viral.

atsumu x reader - “another addition”

genre: fluff

warnings: none

word count:  1110

note: has a semi-prequel about osamu entitled “addition”

atsumu was ready to send his brother to hell. he had a whole set of 'crybaby' jokes he was ready to fire. in fact, his first line was supposed to be 'yo sister-in-law! how's the mother of two babies feelin'?' or something along the lines. but when atsumu entered his sister-in-law's hospital room, the sight that greeted him was his twin brother smiling widely as he stared star-eyed at the tiny baby in his arms that was carefully hidden away in a bundle of blankets. the sight was foreign and weird. it brought shivers in his spine. 'samu? going soft? dang. goddamn world must be ending. he'll never admit it however but the sight warmed his heart. all insults that he was supposed to fire was long forgotten in the back of his throat because his nephew was just a few meters away from him. can you imagine that? his nephew! he was an uncle now!

he watched his family interact. yes. this was his family now and just thinking about how there's another member in it made him so happy he can't even begin to think of words to describe it. the tightness in his chest returned when he heard his 'samu coo at the baby, the grin never leaving his face. he looked so bright and happy even if the dark bugs underneath his eyes reminded him of all the restless nights they spent together trying to quell his anxieties about being a father. atsumu would never say anything about it though because the rare times they let themselves be vulnerable around each other was simply theirs to share.

atsumu wasn't the one who became a father but looking at his twin who he shared his entire with this happy? with the joy he felt, he might as well be.

the nagging curiosity made him break his silence and he approached the two cautiously like a prey nearing unknown territory. osamu tensed and he almost laughed at how protective he was already but he bit back his tongue because this was a special moment and he'll be damned if he was the one to ruin it.

"oh. it's you..." it sounds unwelcoming but the fact that osamu didn't immediately throw him out the window meant something.

"yeah..." atsumu felt awkward for the first time in forever, "sorry i'm late."

"it's fine," atsumu smiled softly. the osamu he knew would've laughed at him by now but this wasn't that osamu anymore. he supposes he'll need some more time to adjust to this new guy after all, "knew ya were busy and all. thanks for dropping by."

"it ain't a big deal."

the silence was deafening to atsumu but it also strangely comforted him. osamu probably noticed his tenseness and huffed amusedly before standing up from his seat in the far corner of the room, "do ya want to hold them?"

atsumu is ashamed of the face he made but it wouldn't be an overstatement to say that his jaw literally dropped and his eyes popped out of their sockets as he stumbled over his words like a fish out of water, "no! i— uh... it's fine. i don't mean to intrude."

"stop being such a wuss. c'mere," the father-like tone that came from the demand almost made atsumu double over but he bit that back and reluctantly, very much so, approached the duo. carefully, osamu transferred the baby into his arms and adjusted atsumu's arms so that he was holding them properly. atsumu took a gulp before adjusting the blankets that covered the baby's face. he didn't know why but he expected a monster to greet him and osamu to laugh and tell him it was all a prank even when he knew that it's impossible. he, after all, watched over osamu's pregnant wife for quite a few times.

releasing a shaky breath, atsumu stared at a familiar eye shape and a familiar nose and a familiar lips. atsumu was staring at a miniature osamu! atsumu couldn't help but laugh as he realized just how similar the babe looked with osamu and by relation, him. it left him feeling something weird. his heartbeat raced as he mirrored the same grin osamu was wearing earlier. his eyes filled with fondness and wonder. god, he was such a sight.

"'tsumu?"

atsumu didn't spare osamu a glance, too focused on watching the baby that was blindly gripping the air for something "what?"

"yer crying," atsumu looked up in a flash, instantly recognizing the wetness in his cheeks and the knowing smile osamu had that was for once, not holding any malicious intent. the look of understanding comforted him by the slightest. with a huff, he looked back down, not even trying to wipe away the trails of his tears since they weren't about to stop any time soon.

"i'm so happy. i'm happy for you. i really am," osamu softened at his twin's words and hummed in acknowledgment.

"i know. i'm happy too."

. . .

"oh? you're home?" you asked as atsumu suddenly hugged you from behind. you didn't notice that he was back home, too busy cooking the stew on the stove. he came back early. well, it was pretty late actually but you thought he'll end up staying the night there so he is technically early.

"'tsumu?" you called out, "you okay? did something happen?"

upon receiving no response, you turned off the stove and maneuvered your body so you were looking at him. you held his face in between your hands, eyes worriedly searching for any hints of distress only to see none but a strange far-away look that seemed oddly passionate, "'tsumu?"

"..."

"hey, talk to me. i'm getting worried."

"..."

"atsumu?"

"let's have a baby."

you dropped your hands from his face, eyes blinking as you processed what he said. atsumu misinterpreted your actions and frantically tried to explain himself, "before ya think of breakin' up with me, i'm not forcing this to ya. i just thought that we're in a good place and we're ready to start somethin' new. i held 'samu's baby and i can't help but think about holding our baby. he'd have your eyes and nose and- anyway, he'll look so perfect because he's ours. imagine that y/n! our baby i can't even begin-"

"about that 'tsumu..." atsumu stopped his rant, anxious about your anxious expression. he was ready to kneel and apologize for his presumptuous words but you held his hands instead.

"aha... ahahahaha. well uh— this is not how i planned to tell you but uh—" you handed him a certain something that atsumu gaped at for god knows how long, "surprise i guess?"

New one

》 m.list

I still wanna be your favorite boy.

Atsumu could only watch as you look to your new lover with a happy glint in your eye.

The same glint your eyes used to have as you look to him, as it slowly vanished as your loving relationship crumbled. As much as it pains him, he still continued to watch you. Your smile etching it's way in his mind for memories.

Even if the smile weren't for him anymore, he would treasure it. He still loves you, after all.

I wanna be the one that makes your day,

"Dammit."

He cursed, balling his fist up as he looked down to his hands. Osamu noticing what's happening to his brother offered a hand on his shoulder as he coaxes him to leave the area where you and Tsukishima sat.

"Kei! Try to minimize your injuries okay? You got this! I'll cheer for you!"

He heard you, voice laced with concern for your lover. He know he should let it go, you moved on and happy without him.

Atsumu made the wrong move to look back at you because the scene he witnessed was you giving Tsukishima Kei a kiss on a cheek and those gentle warm hands that gave him comfor and reassurance was in another man's hands.

Osamu frowned as he forced his brother to look in the different direction. "Idiot. You're torturing yourself. Let's go that way." He pointed to a random hallway where a few people pass.

The one you think about as you lie awake.

Atsumu stumbled; with shaking hands, he grabbed the shoulders of Osamu and looked at him.

"Why am I the only that can't seem to be happy?"

He asked, voice wavering as he stared into his brother's eyes. Osamu could only watch, his heart hurting for his twin.

He akwardly patted Atsumu's head as the said eyes were filled with a flurry of emotions.

He knows that his brother still wants to be with you, and Atsumu clearly was hurting the more he stares at you with the Karasuno team.

Atsumu felt warmth envelope his body as he hugged back his brother, eyes staring at the sky as a lone tear went down his cheek.

"Why?"

haikyuu boys after meeting your parents

featuring; osamu, atsumu, suna x f!reader

warning; just fluff <3

notes; i added some parts from my own life so let’s forget about the stuff mentioned in osamu’s part :’D also this is my first time writing something like this so-

miya osamu

miya atsumu

suna rintarou

how the haikyuu boys fall in love with you + relationship aesthetic

featuring; sakusa, atsumu, suna x f!reader

warning; fluff <3

notes; the reader beats them in confession cause we a baddie

sakusa kiyoomi

this man honestly wasn’t looking for a relationship during high-school, he believed it was best if he kept his attention on his grades and volleyball and keep romance for when he graduated. it’s not like he hasn’t tried. this decision of his was happened after some failed relationships. they were either mad at him for not paying much attention to them, or they were just too touchy and annoying to handle. him being a germaphobe didn’t mean he hated skin to skin contact, he just never felt comfortable under their touch (he realized how they didn’t follow some basic hygiene rules). but then *boom* a new student transfers to their school; you.

there wasn’t exactly something that made you stand out from the rest. you were smiling and kind like some, sarcastic and witty like other, and could both be calm and energetic. he first personally met your when komori introduced you to him, you both had met when the teacher paired you two partners in an assignment. sakusa didn’t pay much attention to you until you became a frequent part of his life due to komori. you and his cousin hit it off easily, with your kind nature and angelic smile, no wonder you two were two peas in a pod. with you always sitting with them during lunch and hanging out with them after school, he started to pay attention to you. how you cleaned your hands before and after eating, never invading his personal space, pushing komori away after volleyball practice because he was sweaty and how you kept on talking about how you admired the way they so passionately played the sport. it was also the way you cared deeply about them, having a hand sanitizer ready just for him, helping them out when they needed advice, your little actions of kindness that always seemed to brighten their days. it was different from what he experienced with the other girls, and without realizing, he started opening conversations with you, wanting your input on things and desiring to learn more about you and at the same time, falling deeper and deeper for you.

with the first two months of school passing by, he started to notice how you were more touchy with komori. you never held sakusa’s hand or give him hugs to congratulate him. but why was he so bothered? he hated the way his stomach sunk once he noticed your closeness with his cousin, or how his heart clenched when you were close to any guy from the school. but when he finally found the guts to ask komori about the way he felt, that’s when he realized he fell for you, hard, might i add. he didn’t want to feel this way, romance was a no no for high-school, he was supposed to concentrate on his grades and volleyball, not getting all lovey-dovey with a girl. and tried to cleanse those persistent thoughts about you from his mind, but no. he couldn’t stop the way he dreamed about how your hands would feel against his body, your lips on his skin, your words of encouragement only directed towards him. so he decided on sticking by your side patiently waiting for the coursge to confess to you; which always managed to leave his body whenever he opened his mouth.

so imagine his surprise, when one day after a practice match you come in front of him to wipe his sweat with a towel in your hands, and tell him about how amazing he was with a subtle blush on your cheeks. he was also supporting his own blush behind the mask he immediately put on. and when you asked him to meet you behind the school building with your hands behind your back, he could only nod, afraid of his own voice betraying him if he spoke. and that day he learns about your crush on him, and when asked why your avoided touching him, you had told you were afraid to make him uncomfortable with the things you heard about him from everyone. he tells you he doesn’t mind the touch if it’s from you and you smile up at him, finally making his dreams come true when you lean to kiss him on the lips.

miya atsumu

now this guy right here, he can be very arrogant and full of himself around his friends and girls. because c’mon, he was miya atsumu! the best setter there ever was. with all the girls practically throwing themselves at him (which only continued to increase his ego btw), he was indeed the golden boy of the school and every girl’s dream. except you it seemed.

when you first started their school, lots of people talked, because joining a school like theirs in the middle of the year? that wasn’t a sight they saw every day, and it was no surprise that you were in the top class. atsumu actually heard about your from kita, he was assigned with showing you around the school and managed to hit it off with their captain. he told them how he offered you to become their manager, knowing that you wouldn’t turn out to be yet another fangirl. and manager you did become. your presence was life changing and everyone could notice it. you took your time to get to know everyone, forming a special bond between you and each of the players; it was life like you were their safe haven. you also made sure to learn about volleyball while being their manager, believing that this way, you could help them grow as players and as a team, and atsumu cherished that about you. whenever he felt down or not good enough, you always managed to cheer him up by telling him how stupid he was by hitting his head. you would comfort him and let him know he was not a failure, and that one little mistake didn’t define who he was.

matched with you by their side were also the best. with cheering every single one of them, throwing stink eyes at the other teams that dared to jab a word at them, going up to the stands to silence the girls that never learned to be quiet during his serve. these were just some of the many things he loved about you. you weren’t just their manager by name, but also by heart; just like how he did with volleyball. you gave it your 110%. and atsumu never stopped telling you these, but not the way you did. he preferred teasing you, always confident and proud while talking about himself, he didn’t know when it started but he knew at some point his words about you weren’t on a friendly level anymore. he wanted you to realize how amazing you were, and he wanted you to see how he was perfect. he always tried to keep his tough facade in front of you, yet you always managed to catch the moments where his confidence always faltered and when you didn’t make fun of him like his friends but chose to spend time with him to cheer him up—he knew he was down bad. now his minds was 24/7 you. your smile, voice, the way your eyes lit up at his serves, his stomach filling with butterflies as he learns you were proud of him after each game.

and this only made him tease you more. he couldn’t leave your side, always wanting to be around your presence. only your words of encouragement mattered, he only searched for your eyes while during his games. so one day, he finally builds the courage to ask you out—he couldn’t keep his feelings to himself anymore. each time you were near him his mouth was on the brink of spilling every single thing he felt for you; and his twin made sure to make fun of him about that every damn time. he decided on asking you out after their game—like a victory date (he had the upmost confidence that they’d win). but what he wasn’t expecting was for you to run into his arms and land a big kiss on his lips the second they won the game. too shocked to process he watched with wide eyes as you pull away from him with a big grin on your face. and once the reality of things settles down on him, he lifts you up and wraps your legs around his waist to kiss you deeper.

that night he learns it was osamu who told you about his feelings which resulted in that day’s events. you end up holding back atsumu from beating up his twin while trying to keep in your laughter.

suna rintarou

please this man is a hopeless case. there is literally no girl that interests him in school because, and i quote “they’re boring”. he did obviously try to be in a relationship with multiple girls, he didn’t reach the statement before from no experience. and of course he had his own group of girls that fawned over him, but did be care? no. the whole school knew him as the boy who blackmailed people (pls i fully believe he would actually do this), he somehow always managed to get his eyes and ears on the latest tea and had organized folders of his whole teams cursed pictures. (atsumu had the biggest one).

ah just like how every romantic book/movie ever goes, you joined their school; and you were different. you had come from fukurodani, so you knew about the volleyball team in inarizaki. having the opportunity to meet the players as well. and that’s how suna recognized you. it was during lunch time when he was eating with the twins when you caught his eye (definitely not due to your loud laugh). you had already managed to form a group of friends, you were a sociable person, polar opposites with him; he was more of an introverted kind. and when the twins didn’t miss the ways his eyes looked at you, immediately calling out to you to join their table. eyes wide and a little shy, you had accepted their offer. it was weird, how easily you hit it off with the twins, one look from the outside and it would seem as if you knew them your whole life. but what really caught his attention was when you asked them if they wanted the see the pictures you took during the volleyball games. he was surprised when you showed the trio multiple pictures of them in the most ridiculous angles and poses, it was easy to say he was bewitched.

he wouldn’t leave you alone, managing to find you wherever you were in school and talk about the stories behind his own cursed pictures. he had practically begged you to share the ones you took, which you accepted only if he gave you some too. from that day on a beautiful friendship formed between the two of you. you shared your foods, when to each others houses to hangout, or go out on late night walks to chat about nothing but pure nonsense. face-times with him were also very amusing, with the both of you trying to capture bad pictures of each other you never managed to bore him. and suddenly the “ugly” pictures he took of you weren’t so ugly anymore, rather they were ethereal. he started to admire how you always managed to look pretty in front of a camera (of course he wouldn’t admit that to your face). now whenever you two hung out, he made sure to take extra pictures of you, deciding that your folder could never have enough. and as the days passed, you coming over to him had him flustered more. the way you laid your head against his shoulder while watching a movie, or borrowing his hoodie and never giving it back; they weren’t friendly actions for him anymore. he wanted to cuddle you, keep you forever in his arms as he basked in your scent. he wanted you to keep his hoodies because as cliche as it sounded, you look much better in them (plus it made him proud when it was his hoodies you were wearing outside).

he really wasn’t planning on confessing. he was scared; hopeless like i said in the beginning. and he believes that always taking pictures of you was his best way of flirting—pls this man actually believed he was smooth with it. and one day when you scolded him for saving them, he caught both of you off-guard when he told you, you looked pretty and cute in them. he doesn’t let it show but he’s extremely nervous on the inside, like, he told the truth so maybe you would let him save the pictures? he almost fell down from his seat when you puled his face closer to your with both of your hands and demanded when he was going to confess to you. and when he couldn’t form sentences to respond you, you had huffed with your arms crossed claiming how you were running out of patience. so he does what his stupid brain could only think in that moment, and tells you he thought you two were already dating, which now leaves you with a shocked expression. anyways this is the turning point in your relationship and now he can have as many cuddles as he wants, though the only thing he regrets is the fact that he’s running out of hoodies to wear.

cry for me

atsumu miya x reader

genre; angst, post-break up

wc; 759

notes; god this has been sitting in my drafts since august…and i just went over it and decided to at least post something here…so sorry if there are any mistakes!

inspired by “cry for me” by twice :3

You once read somewhere that good judgment comes from experience, and a lot of that experience comes through bad judgment. You've always thought of your experience as a reflection of your parents' love.

Your head was still filled with images of your parents arguing on a daily basis. When you closed your eyes, you could see the screams and hateful remarks that would come out of each of their mouths.

You were an introverted person, and even though you wanted to speak up and have a say in your parents' relationship, possibly even helping to repair it, you couldn't because you were afraid. There was no guarantee they wouldn't treat you the same way they treated one another. You were a quiet and reserved individual, which portrayed you as a decent daughter in their eyes. You'd never jeopardize that. It wasn't the healthiest home, but you grew up telling yourself that it was better than not having any parents at all.

However, growing up in a family like that made you dream about the happy relationship you could have in the future; one that would save you from the toxic claws of your parents. In this lifetime, that relationship came with Atsumu Miya.

You never anticipated your awkward encounter at the cafe where you usually studied would lead to such an occurrence. It's cliche to call him your knight in shining armor, but that's exactly what he was. His sweet words of promise, the kisses he would lavish on your face after his practices, and arms that would engulf you in the tightest hugs before bed. It was impossible not to like Atsumu Miya. He was your source of happiness; he was the one who showed you the meaning of true love.

Yet, perhaps you were wrong about it all. Perhaps you were a fool; just like your mother, because that image of real love started crumbling sooner or later.

You don't recall when things began to shift. You’re not sure when the daily kisses ended, or when his beautiful whispers stopped. The arms that had once been your safe haven were now forgotten, like the toys that had gathered dust behind your closet. You didn’t know what went wrong. A happy relationship that lasted a good while, through struggles and hardships. You were both supportive of each other, helping, and aiding when one was in need. All of your fights would end up with sweet whispers of apologies; you were both happy. You knew these were red flags, and you knew you'd come to regret your decisions.

But what could you do? You loved him. And you didn’t know how to keep going without him by your side. Perhaps this was how your mother felt at the time, with the thorns of her love never letting go, rendering her unable to let go of her sweetheart.

Your lover, or now ex-lover, has always been a star that shined too bright next to your dim one in the night sky. Atsumu Miya was the center of attention wherever he went while you were the extra space that occupied his side, yet he never made you feel that way.

Maybe that’s why your heart soared in pain.

You’ve dated for three years; since the last year of high school. The wave of feeling that hit you when he asked you out was equal to the intensity of a tsunami; heavy and consuming.

Who could’ve guessed those exact emotions could resurface again; just in different conditions.

Perhaps it was your fault for disregarding every thorn that dropped in your heart anytime he hurled venomous remarks at you. Perhaps you should have realized that you were the only one attempting to keep him at your side, his star flashing so brightly that it began to blind you.

No more real love

I kept pretending I was strong

So why?

Why were you the only one who grieved the end of your relationship?

Why was there no sign of regret or pain in his face when he told you he wanted to break up with you?

Why were you the only one with tears streaming down your face, broken sobs desperately trying to leave your throat?

Why did he have a new girl in his arms two weeks after your relationship ended?

Why did he look so happy; shining brighter than he ever did next to you, while you were still grieving the loss of your love?

Cry for me the way I cried for you

I want you to cry for me.

Day 3: LUST: ATSUMU MIYA (I am so weak for that guy)

He has your back pressed against a bathroom club door of the men‘s room, his intoxicating scent blinding the rest of yours. His hot tongue is clashing against yours in a ferocious manner, you’re whimpering and moaning against his mouth. He gives you a moment to breathe, a string of saliva connected by your lips. The both of you are panting, gasping for air while staring deeply into each others eyes. His honey brown orbs are barely visible by his dilated pupils. Grasping your chin in his hand, he leans closer again and you see his irises turning into a dangerous ruby red glow, his canines getting a bit sharp.

"Say babygirl, whaddya say we take this to ma place, I‘ll show ya the secret talents of the Demon of Lust himself.“ He says while almost purring like a cat, you can’t help but fall into his spell of seduction.

@rukia-uchiha-98 @darthferbert @nerd-of-karasuno @wake-uptoreality @millenialfanfictionaddiction

ꜱɪʟʟʏ ʜᴜꜱʙᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴄᴇɴᴀʀɪᴏꜱ (ᴍɪʏᴀ ᴀᴛꜱᴜᴍᴜ)

oikawa | iwaizumi | osamu | ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪɪ | ʜᴀɪᴋʏᴜᴜ ᴍʟɪꜱᴛ

Atsumu fucked up.

To get you to come talk to him after that huge argument you both had, Atsumu had, as usual, tightened up all the jars. But he might have tightened them a bit too much.

You stand across the counter, arms crossed, as you eye the lineup of all the jars your dear husband has to open. Meanwhile, Atsumu has been grappling with his favorite pickles jar for the last thirty minutes with no success. "Babe..." He trails off, teary-eyed as he reckons there will be no pickles for him in the near future. "You tightened them. What are you crying for." You know from experience not to let him off easily until he opens them up.

"I can't open them!" he whines, placing the jar gently on the counter before showing you his red palms. You shrug, leaning over and throwing a rug at him, "Use this to open. It will be easier."

He sniffles, regretting his choices. But at least he got you to talk to him, didn't he?

Making up after an argument

Fandom: Haikyuu

Pairing: Atsumu X Fem!reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff

Format: One Shot

Warnings: None

Word Count: 0.9K

A/n: This was actually written months ago, but I totally forgot about it—

He doesn't understand this. He doesn't know why youre being so dramatic about something so silly. Its not like he did it intentionally, it was just an accident! He didn't put all the white clothes and other colored ones in the washing machine at the same time on purpose, he just wasn't paying attention to it!

And that was exactly what you were upset about.

He never payed attention to things he wasn't interested in. If the topic was not about volleyball, food or things like that, you would lose him the minute you start talking, and its annoying. Yes! You do understand that some things might not be attractive/interesting to him but still! He was your boyfriend! Couldn't he at least pretend that he was paying attention to you? Its not like you actually give a damn about his stupid volleyball career either! And that's exactly what you told him when you lost your temper and then realized you went too far,but he was gone before you could even apologize.

"Ya know what? Fuck ya and yer stupid clothes, y/n! "

He immediately left the apartment and didn't give you a chance to argue back, let alone say sorry; and that's why you ended up waiting for him being worried sick until 3AM, and then went to bed all alone, wondering if he has a place to crash at.

In the morning, you sigh in relief when you see him curled up on the couch. Sure, you would prefer to wake up next to him on the bed when his breathings gives you goosebumps, but at least he was home. You slowly walk toward him and gently shake him, until he opens his eyes, realizing its you, and goes back to sleep again, not even bothering to say anything.

"Babe" You say, while gently moving your fingers in his hair "Go sleep on the bed, you're gonna catch a cold"

"Leave me alone" He says, putting a small pout on his lips and then turns his back to you which makes you sigh, but for a different purpose this time.

You get that hes upset, but you weren't happy either. You had every right to be mad at him, but you were also aware of the fact that you pushed the wrong button, by calling his dream of being the best setter ever "stupid". Volleyball meant the world to your boyfriend and you're not clueless about it, and that is why youre going to let him get away with it.

Just this time.

Without a warning, you move him back to the position he used to be in and let your head rest on his arm while placing his hands around you. His pout becomes even wider, and starts sending daggers at your direction, which makes you chuckle a bit. "Ok, but giving me the same look you give your brother when he eats your share of food is not gonna work" "Whatever. Ain't talkin to ya anymore" He says and then looks away from you, which leads to his eyes landing on your picture on the wall, that was taken in Paris, after they won a match. You looked happy, cheering for him while he scored four points with the help of his incredible serves. Where you just pretending? Or... Are you just not into him anymore?

"Baby! Stop thinking and just talk to me!" You whine, giving him a slight peck on the lips. When you see him remaining silent for a few seconds, you decide to be the first one to talk. "Look, honey. I'm truly sorry... Its just that I've been under a lot of pressure and I need you to be around... But you're always ditching me, saying you have to practice or hang out with your friends and I've been feeling...left out" You pause, watching as his expression becomes softer and a slight bit of guilt appears in the way he looks at you. "I... Do understand that volleyball means a lot to you, and I shouldn't have said something like that. I'm really sorry and I hope you forgive me..."

Great. Now he's feeling guilty about it.

He gets it. He knows that hes been spending more time on volleyball than with you, and he knows that it's annoying. He didn't do it on purpose, but that doesn't make it less annoying. Maybe he had gone to far too, by leaving you on read when you message him during his practices, or by getting home really late, and finding you on the couch, waiting for him.

"It's fine doll... I guess that was my bad too..." He says, before leaning toward you and burying his face in the crook of your neck. You smile at his reaction, knowing that he has forgiven you already and you don't have to cry for his attention anymore. One of the things you loved about him was that he never kept you around, waiting.

All rights reserved © 2023 AshTheMadWriter. Please do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works on any platform.

PICK A CARD -—- In recent weeks, Atsumu has become quite interested in performing card tricks for his teammates as well as a couple of ladies. The only problem is, is that he never showed you these things, but little did you know he was just using them to courage himself to ask and impress you. Things don't go his way, though.

PAIRINGS. miya atsumu x fem!reader

WARNINGS. blushy/shy Atsumu, he's such a dork | fluff | just imagine Henmi as Kushida from Classroom of the Elite | the reader is kind of a brat LOL | the end is kinda rushed bc i wanted to finish this b4 4:00, I'll proof read later

During the past few weeks, Atsumu has been fascinated with cardistry.

Each week, he performs a new card trick for a group of popular girls gossiping in the hallway or another group in the cafeteria. The volleyball fangirls that crowd around him even come to his games with a deck of cards to see what he's capable of.

The only problem is, that he never shows it to you.

It's not his obligation to show you everything; you shouldn't feel entitled merely because he does... The fact that the ace of diamonds disappeared and reappeared behind your friend Henmi's ear, a girl who appears to be smitten with him, left you feeling jealous and unwelcome.

Henmi was the type of girl who made the boy's heads turn to watch her walk to class. She wore cute pink hair clips in her bob that bounced with every spring in her stride, and she was friendly with everyone.

To be fair, you've been asked out by a few guys and had a couple of friendships, but you know you could never get matched with her.

A shade of red spreads across Henmi's pale face as she blurts out, "I think Atsumu-Kun likes me."

It was lunchtime. There was a table outside, and you, Henmi, and two of her friends sat together for lunch. A sour taste replaces the taste of chocolate in the milk you were drinking. It permeates your mouth and stops you from sucking on the straw.

Your jealousy nearly erupted. You want to tell her that you saw him perform the same trick on another cute girl later that day. You want to break her heart, but you decide against it and chew on your straw instead.

But a girl from your table speaks your mind, "sorry Henmi-Chan, but I saw him do the trick to Hosoo yesterday. He's such a player."

Possibly she spoke up out of her own jealousy, hoping for the sake of her fantasies that Henmu wouldn't become a reality.

Despite this, Henmi denies it, defending Henmu by saying, "he was really close to me. Like I thought he was about to kiss me—"

"Ah, Y/N! That's where you are, I've been looking for you everywhere," Atsumu yells from the top of the staircase, hurrying down so he could meet you at the lunch table.

There is more confusion in the girls' eyes than in yours. Why was he looking for you specifically?

Atsumu sits on the bench by your side and slides only his right leg under the table so that he may face you. An old deck of cards is pulled from the tan pockets of his school's blazer. Blush tints his cheeks, and he looks down at the cards he shuffles as he asks you, "can I show you some of the card tricks I learned?"

By removing your left leg from beneath the table, you can also face him. A giddy smile spreads across your face as you say, "I'd love to see your tricks."

Atsumu smiles, "my first trick is the classic 'pick a card, any card' trick."

The cards are split into two decks, and he hands you one to shuffle. You return them to him after you're done.

You and the girl's lunch trays and lunch boxes are scooted to the side. This is so that he can spread your deck face up and his face down in two lines on the table. He then carefully scoots the cards together and then they're shuffled together again.

"Now I'll search for your card, which is really impressive as you haven't decided what card you want."

After spreading the shuffled cards in his hand, he instructs, "pick one. It doesn't matter if it's face up or face down."

You selected the face-up king of hearts and showed it to him. He then asks for the card to be pushed back face up or face down in the spread deck of cards. You chose to place it face down.

Once again, he shuffles them, "now, all cards are either up, or down." As he places them back down and backs up like they were liable to explode, he says, "if I leave them like that, all, except one, will move to face-up."

After a minute, he spreads them slowly across the table. Your mouth dropped when you discovered most of the cards that were originally facing downwards were now facing upwards. Most.

You could see the shock on his face when three remained faced downwards.

"Um, well, shit, um..." a blush from embarrassment spreads across his face as he tries to laugh it off. "That wasn't supposed to happen."

He picks up the first card that was faced down. It was the King of spades, not your card.

He picks up the second one. It was the ace of diamonds, also not your card.

A cold sweat runs down his cheek as he picks up the final one. It was the Ace of clubs. None of these were your cards.

"Fucking shit," he cursed under his breath. The three girls that remained at the table giggle at his error, adding to his embarrassment. "I-I have another, another trick. Can I show you?"

Laughing, you replied, "You may." He was cute.

He gathers all of the cards and gulps, "it's, um, it's called the card spring. Basically, it's where all the cards fall to my other hand. See— ah shit!"

A massive gust of wind sweeps the cards in mid-performance, just as they were about to land in Atsumu's right hand. All fifty-two cards in the deck spiral westward.

At that exact moment, you could hear Atsumu's heart drop to his ass. It sounded like an anvil being dropped from twenty-five feet in the air.

"Shit," he mutters. Just as he gets up to collect them, the bell rings. When the girls return to the building, they gossip about how funny Atsumu was as they collect their trash and belongings. Henmi says goodbye to Atsumu but it passes unnoticed by him.

You stayed to help Atsumu pick up all of his cards.

The color of red was now engulfing his entire head as he spotted you picking up the Queen of Spades. "Fuck, I'm so sorry— I-I was trying to impress you and I fucked up. All the practicing I had done on some girls came to shit."

Picking up a jack and a king, you giggled, "I think many of the girls think you are interested in them. Why did you do that?"

"I dunno, maybe because they share the same qualities as you."

"And what's that?"

"That they're a girl and you're a girl," he blushed as you laughed. "I thought they could give me the courage to perform on you and ask you out. Got nervous."

Then, with his luck, it begins to rain. It began to rain on a sunny day.

The cards begin to become damp as you hurried to pick them up. Suddenly, you come across the king of hearts.

He groans, "today wasn't supposed to turn out like this. 'M sorry."

You hand him the cards and go to pick up your tray and travel to the nearest trashcan to throw out your trash. Atsumu begins to do the walk of shame as he starts to walk back to class with his head down low and his hands in his pockets.

"I'll see you tomorrow Atsumu-Kun!" You say as you pass him, reaching the building first.

"Yeah," he sighs, bummed.

Atsumu kicks himself in his mind before letting out another curse as he shuffles his cards. He's about to throw them away before he notices a smudge of blue ink on his king of hearts. It was still readable.

It reads: I'm free tomorrow! Call me if you have any trouble, or any bad luck! with a heart at the end.

No match - Atsumu Miya

Atsumu is a simple man, even with a tunnel vision for volleyball, he did think about others. He thought about his twin when he saw an ugly character on the back of the comics you read. Atsumu thought of his mom when he saw you cook for him, thinking back to the time he brought you to meet his mom the first time on Christmas, a few years back. As soon as December rolled around, Atsumu would already be drooling for the cookies you and his mum baked on Christmas every year since.

He has always been big on Christmas, receiving gifts, food, cookies and throwing you in the picture, and it becomes even better than it has been. Now that Atsumu was older, one responsibility that he had as someone who earned his own money was buying gifts for his family and friends.

To say, Atsumu was good at thinking of gifts would be a lie. He was absolutely uncreative when it came to gifts, he would buy everyone the same gifts every year if it wasn’t for you. He loved every single minute of Christmas shopping with you.

The blurred golden glow from the lights that hung from the trees by the sidewalk, under the giant Christmas tree that stood tall in the center of the street, Atsumu couldn’t help his heart from swelling up in the happiness he felt in that single moment. He couldn’t have seen a sight prettier than you in the Christmas lights, soft white snow falling on your head while your cheeks and nose blushed red from the cold weather, laughter tipping from your lips. At that moment, he couldn’t hear anything but the giggle that left your lips and the jingle that the kids sang around him.

Pulling your beanie higher on your head, Atsumu crouched, pressing a kiss on your forehead fondly. The laugh that he started was from his suggestion to buy his twin brother an ugly sweater because;

“Samu, can suck it up and take it or leave it, I don’t care, I am gifting his ugly ass an ugly sweater to match ugliness, tho it won’t be any match for his level”

And so, began the search for an “ugly sweater to match samu’s level of ugliness” or so he thought.

“Pooh, look, we HAVE to buy this”

“‘Sumu, we were looking for a gift for samu, it’s already getting late, let’s speed this up”

“But–”

Atsumu knew exactly how to convince you to buy these couple sweaters. As you dragged him away from the rack which held the sweaters he wanted, Atsumu knew to have his eyes stuck on them, staring longingly with tears sitting on his waterline.

“Pooh, but what about us, we don’t wanna look ugly like samu” He forced you to look at his eyes glistening with tears.

“Just — yeah, whatever. We can get them” you said, rubbing your temples to express your annoyance even with the smile growing on your face as he grabbed your face, showering your cool skin with warm fleeting kisses to show his appreciation.

Atsumu was basically vibrating with happiness while he paid for his sweaters, hanging from your shoulder with his arms draped over your form that he was back hugging, insisting that he was doing his boyfriend duties of keeping you warm. Heading home with Atsumu still hanging from your shoulders was something. While you appreciated your boyfriend’s warmth, you would still prefer his boisterous laugh not being directed straight to your sensitive ears.

Being whipped for his girlfriend had its own disadvantages. The same night, he fell asleep in your arms, totally forgetting the gift he set out to buy for his brother. Waking the next morning as he gloated in love and the cold snow, it still had set in that was missing a gift for his brother and instead of reminding you the same when he did remember, he sneakingly wrote his name beside yours on the gift you had planned for his brother.

“Sumu, do you have all the gifts in the car?” you said, pulling over the sweater Sumu had bought from yesterday.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, I counted them too, don’t worry” he said, tugging his sleeves impatiently.

“Pooh, let’s head over already, ‘wanna have your cookies” he continued while resting his chin on your shoulder, tired from all the late night packing.

“MA, ‘SUMU FORGET TO BUY ME A GIFT AND WROTE HIS NAME ON HIS GIRLFRIEND’S GIFT FOR ME”

“YOU UNGRATEFUL SCRUB, I DIDN’T FORGET, I JUST —- I JUST DIDN’T WANT TO BUY YOU ANYTHING AND ALSO WHATEVER MY GIRL BRINGS IS ALSO FROM ME”

“THAT IS NOT HOW IT WORKS AND IF SO THEN, FINE I’LL KEEP THE GIFT I BOUGHT YOU THEN”

“WHAT?? YOU DON’T GET TO DO THAT, BABE, say something”

“Good going ‘Samu” you said, fist bumping Samu while your boyfriend whined to his mom about his girlfriend being unfair.

“BTW, ‘Sumu You’re banned from Onigiri Miya for the next whole year” Samu said, draping an arm around your shoulder, directing you towards the kitchen.

“YAH, ‘SAMU THAT’S MY GIRL” He said, stomping his steps, smiling softly at the view of you in the kitchen with his mum and brother, icing on your fingers as you offered him some.

Atsumu was a simple man, he thought as he licked the icing off your finger, his mood immediately brighter. His Christmas never ran smoothly, but with you here in the lights always shone brighter, the laughter louder and the days lasted longer. He was glad he could shop for Christmas with someone, although in the end he always ends up buying things for himself, and you, buy gifts for him to give. Samu was lucky he received the gift you bought for him instead of an ugly gift like himself because surely there was no match for “Samu’s ugliness”.

“my turn to pay.” you say, sliding your debit card across the table as atsumu’s handed the bill.

the waiter stands patiently, giving you and your boyfriend polite smiles as he holds out the payment terminal in front of you, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at the way atsumu has taken out his own card too.

it was a good system; you pay for dinner, he pays for gas. it was fair, and it also made budgeting so much easier since the two of you finally made the decision to save up for a house.

atsumu gives you a clueless smile, one that you’ve learned to be immune to, and you slide your debit card onto his hands.

you tell him, voice strict, “let me pay please.”

and he ignores you.

he gives the waiter a polite smile, fiddling with his card in his fingers, making small talk as he asks about the weather and how many people came in the restaurant today, and you know, as well as you know atsumu, that he was purposely doing this to tease you.

“atsumu, take my card.” you tell him again, snapping back his and the waiter’s attention to you.

this time he knows you’re serious — you never use his full name — it’s always been ‘tsumu’ or some other sweet pet name you used to call out to him, but you never ever used his actual name, only in arguments, so he knows better now than to push you further.

“fine,” he tells you, his features softening, and he finally takes your card in his hand seriously, his smile as sweet as ever, “but only for today.”

“that’s not the deal,” your eyebrows furrow, smiling weakly as you tell him, “we take turns, remember?”

he fakes a frown, “i don’t like taking turns.”

you give the waiter an apologetic look, you can tell he’s been standing over your table for longer than he wanted, but atsumu still had your (and his) card in his hand, too immersed in a conversation with you to actually swipe it in the transaction machine.

you cross your arms, “you don’t like saving money?”

and atsumu grins, “i like spoiling you.”

you scrunch your nose, “don’t be gross.”

“tsumu,” you call out to him, tone softening as if trying to reason with him, and you say, “let’s work that money into buying a house.”

and he indulges in your words, nodding, “with a pool?”

you smile, “anything you want.” you tell him, joking along to his humor, and you laugh when he laughs too.

atsumu gives you a wink, “now look who’s doing the spoiling.”

you roll your eyes again, a bit embarrassed that the waiter has to hear all this, so you nudge your boyfriend’s attention back to him, and his eyes widen a bit, confused as if he’s only now realizing that he’s kept the poor man waiting.

your shoulders rise as you smile, barely paying attention as atsumu slides the card over the machine, and before you could thank your poor waiter, he’d already excused himself the second the payment went through.

you give your attention back to atsumu sitting in front of you, giving him a playful glare as his expression remains amused, and you rolls your eyes, letting his grin only widen when he hands you back your card.

his own card (yours is red, his is green) is tucked into his own palm, something you don’t even realize he still had in his grasp until the waiter had left your table.

“you used your card, didn’t you?” you ask, sighing, putting your own debit card back into your wallet, and you let your shoulders fall, caving as your smile breaks through your face.

atsumu, as charming as ever, leans over the table, and he pulls on your head, careful not to hurt you, and he kisses your temple — a peace offering, an apology.

“love ya.” he tells you, and he tells you this all the time, but he still feels like he doesn’t tell you enough.

“i’ll let ya pay for gas later.” he offers, his tone dripping in trimmed laughter as he teases.

and you give him a scoff with a smile — his favorite one — knowing fully well that the two of you didn’t take the car today.

you click your tongue, “we walked here.”

[9:38AM]

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It was unusual enough for you to have woken up to an empty bed, but the position of the sunbeams shining directly on your face tells you that you were granted the rare opportunity to sleep in.

The warmth of the rumpled and empty bedsheets beside you indicate that Atsumu wasn’t too far ahead, and you lazily climb out of your comforter.

Your slippers hardly made any noise as you dragged your feet down the hardwood staircase, but the yawn that crawled from out of your throat had echoed throughout the hallways.

The first thing you noticed when you stepped foot into the kitchen were the two mugs that sat forgotten beside the coffee maker. Specks of ground coffee littered your kitchen counter, and you would have been upset if not for the nutty aroma of your favorite morning blend permeating in the air.

The second thing you noticed was Atsumu staring out the glass sliding door that led into the backyard. His back was facing you, but you could see his shoulders shaking in time with the coffee bubbling into the pitcher.

“Atsumu…?” You slowly approached your husband, but he paid you no mind. His attention was focused solely on the scene playing in your backyard, and it was only when you step beside your husband did you finally understand.

A soft glowing warmth bloomed within your heart as you watched your son playing in the grass, his father’s blue and yellow volleyball bouncing up and down his forearms. The ball was nearly half his size, but he took to it easily, and from the corner of your eye, Atsumu’s lips quiver. You laugh quietly when the ball hits his arms at an odd angle, effectively flying to the other side of the yard.

You turn and rub your hand in circles around Atsumu’s back, smiling softly at the silent tears that were freely spilling down his cheeks.

“There, there,” you say quietly, and Atsumu brings a hand up to cover his mouth.

You smile up at him gently as you pull the sliding door open, the wheels clattering against the track loudly catching the attention of your son.

“Sweetheart, want to come in for some breakfast?” You call out, and the soft pout on your son’s lips had made him look more like his father than he ever has.

“Later,” his tiny voice called back, nearly hitting his face as he attempted to do an overhand pass.

“Dad! Can you teach me how to serve?”

Atsumu buries his face on the side of your neck, and you pat his head as he lets out a sob. You chuckle when you begin to feel his tears soak your shirt, and he attempts to let out a garbled confirmation.

Your son stares back at you oddly as you begin to wrap your arms around your husband.

“Your dad says he’ll be out there in a second!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

4:17 pm

atsumu goes to his brother’s restaurant enough to know everyone that works there, be familiar enough with the regulars, know who belongs there and who doesn’t. which is maybe why he’s so brash in asking..

“who’re you?”

you blink at him from behind the counter, raising an eyebrow up and pointing to the name tag. “uh, yn?”

“why’re ya here?”

your eyebrows scrunch up at his question, giving him a ‘really?’ look as you refill his cup of water sitting in front of him.

“i work here?” you answer, and maybe you should watch your tone, being that you know this is your boss’ brother (the face is a dead give away, obviously).

“since when?” atsumu presses, leaning across the counter and narrowing his eyes at you. this close you can tell he needs to touch up his roots a little bit.

“like, three weeks ago?” you sigh, sliding a tray full of a table’s order onto your palm and balancing it with only just a slight wobble, something you’ve slowly started to get the hang of since being hired. “now, if you’ll excuse me.”

atsumu’s eyes follow you as you make your way from behind the counter, swiveling through the path of tables and customers until you make it to the corner booth, placing down the family’s order onto the table, smile wide—much unlike the slight frown you’d been giving him a second ago.

he finds you odd, just a little. it’s obvious you know who he is, seeing as how there’s only one other person on earth who shares the same face as him. and that means you know he’s a professional volleyball player which he, though he’d deny it if cornered, likes knowing how it has an effect on people who meet him.

but not you. you didn’t care he’s a pro athlete or your boss’ brother. and that…

shit, he finds that really attractive.

“don’t even think about it.”

atsumu jumps to the voice at his left, placing an exaggerated hand on his chest as he snaps his head back to glare at his twin, chocolate eyes turning to slits at cloudy ones.

“scared tha hell outta me, geez,” he huffs, crossing his arms on top of the counter. “‘nd what the hell’re you talkin’ about?”

“stop playin’ dumb,” osamu dismisses with a roll of his eyes, leaning his hands on the hardwood and nodding his head towards where you’re currently handing someone their check. “leave ‘em alone. they’re too good for you.”

“hey,” atsumu pouts, scrunching his nose. “what’s that s’posed to mean? i’m good too.”

“yeah, good at being a douche,” osamu smirks, pushing off the counter to dodge the half assed punch his twin tries to swing his way.

“i’m a nice guy.”

“keep tellin’ yerself that tsumu.”

“yer an ass, samu.”

“only to you.”

“um, excuse me?” the twins’ heads snap in your direction, causing you to recoil just a tad before regaining yourself. “sorry to interrupt whatever.. this is, but sir,” you turn your eyes to osamu, polite smile on your lips, “there’s someone here to see you, she says she’s from the newspaper?”

“alright, thank ya,” he nods, flashing you a grin before giving his brother one last stern look and disappearing off somewhere further into the restaurant.

the silence that follows as your boss leaves is a little awkward, a tad strained as you and the blond share eye contact. you clear your throat and look away.

“right, well then.”

“what’s wrong with ya?”

you stop mid turn, whipping your head back around to stare at the blond, eyes wide and brows furrowed. your fingers curl at your sides, fists balled up.

“excuse you?”

your incredulous tone does nothing to deter him, he simply perches his chin in his palm.

“yer actin’ like i ain’t a big deal. kinda weird.”

you blink at him, pressing your lips into a thin line. osamu had already warned you about his brother, how his pride gets the better of him sometimes but how he honestly just can’t help it because he has absolutely no filter. you just didn’t expect it to be this blatant.

“well, if you’d like me to be honest, then i don’t think you’re a big deal,” you reply, turning away again and grabbing another table’s ticket out of your apron. “you’re just another athlete with a big ego and an even bigger mouth. nothing more.”

this time it’s atsumu’s turn to blink at you as he watches you walk away, painting on another one of those wide smiles as you go back to doing your job. you’re feisty, mouthy, a tad bit brash. no one’s ever really talked to him like this before apart from his brother or old friends.

he smiles to himself as he lets his gaze follow you, buzzing around his brother’s onigiri shop. he’s made his decision.

he’s going to make you fall in love with him, his ego, and his even bigger mouth—and he’ll be damn good at it too.

reblogs appreciated!

cheater cheater

characters: bokuto, brief mentions of atsumu, akaashi is mentioned once; post! timeskip

wc: 6.3k

warnings: angst!! slightly suggestive for like two paragraphs (it’s italicized), mostly sfw, cheating obviosly

tagging: @a-kaash-me-outside​ 

a/n: in no way shape or form do I condone cheating nor do I think bokuto would ever cheat, the collab was just too fun to pass up... PLEASE head on over to @a-kaash-me-outside’s blog for the rest of the cheater cheater collab pieces!

Bokuto was seated across from you at the small dining table-it only sat four people because he had said a bigger dining table meant more space between him and yourself. You set your cup down, the water doing little to ease the nerves pooling in your stomach. You tried to stop the bouncing of your leg too but to no avail. Your eyes scanned your lover’s face, starting with his eyes that stared at a random spot on the table, down the bridge of his nose toward his lips that were set into a firm line. He was deep in thought, that much was obvious. His hair was disheveled from how many times he ran his hand through it.

Bokuto wasn’t acting like himself, and it’s safe to say he’s been like this for about a week now. His overflowing affection for you is nowhere to be found, and you figured it had something to do with their recent loss. Sure, the MSBY boys were no strangers to the concept of losing, however they had practiced tirelessly for this match and had been so sure of themselves. So, you attributed Bokuto’s uncharacteristic mood to last week’s match and went on with your day.

What else were you supposed to do after he reassured you he was fine and just needed space. You wanted to do nothing more than to pull him into a hug and run your fingers through his hair, telling him he’d win the next match for sure and that you’d one hundred percent be there, unlike the last match.

You felt as though your absence may have affected him more than he cared to admit, and you’re correct. Bokuto did want you to be there, but how could he be upset with you over you not going when you try to go to all of his matches. He understands that you can’t get away from work every time and that your work is just as important to you as volleyball is for him. He couldn’t be selfish, but he had to admit to himself he was disappointed.

However, the loss was the least of his worries.

“Kou?”

He blinked several times before his gaze lifted toward your own concerned one. “Yeah?” His expression was blank, devoid of any emotion.

Your brows furrowed in growing worry and instinctively, your hand reached out across the table in hopes his own would grasp it. You were throwing him a lifeline, hoping he’d catch it.

He didn’t. His hands remained in his lap. You couldn’t see it, but he was twirling his thumbs around each other in a poor attempt at easing his own nerves. But you could see the slightest of wrinkles on his forehead, and the way his eyes didn’t glimmer as bright as they usually did. You were afraid to speak again. Clearly his inner turmoil was slowly breaking him down, and whatever it was you wanted it to stop. But how? How could you make it stop when you couldn’t even bring yourself to ask him what was wrong, afraid that another push into any direction would be the wrong direction and you’d set him off.

Taking a deep breath, readying yourself to ask him if he was okay, your hand gripped the cup you realized you never let go. You were holding onto it so tight your knuckles were turning white. Maybe you needed the lifeline.

“Kou, are you okay?”

He continued looking at you. His gaze gradually relaxed until a slight smile curved his lips. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, was just thinking about practice today.” With that, he pushed his chair back, the scraping of the chair’s legs against the linoleum too loud in the silence. You couldn’t help but cringe as it rang in your ears. Standing up, he picked up his plate and walked into the kitchen, dumping the food into the trash before putting it in the sink. Your eyes followed his every move, and you realized he had barely eaten anything.

Before leaving the kitchen, he stopped at the table and gave you one last look. “I’m gonna shower, ‘kay?”

You hummed and watched him leave as your heart permanently lodged itself in your throat. You could hear his footsteps fade the further he walked from you. You looked down at your food that was probably too cold to eat, and then at your hand that was still holding onto the cup like it could save you from what you were feeling. You let the cup go and massage your hand before it begins to cramp. Tears pooled in your eyes and you blinked them away, not wanting to make this personal…not yet anyway. Sighing, you did what Bokuto had done moments ago in the kitchen. After emptying your plate, you walk over to the sink and stare at the dirty dishes. Well, they weren’t going to wash themselves.

  While Bokuto showered, you got ready for bed using the hallway bathroom and when you were dressed in your pajamas, you snuggled into bed hoping that maybe he’d be up for some cuddles. While you waited, you stared at the ceiling, wondering how bad their loss could have been to have your boyfriend in such an awful slump.

You had started falling asleep when your cell phone pinged. You unlocked your phone to see it was a text from Atsumu.

9:48 PM – Atsumu: Hey, are you and Bokuto in a fight?

Your brows furrowed as you read over his text, chewing on your bottom lip as you wondered what could have possibly made him think that. Well, Bokuto’s mood obviously but you would’ve thought he of all people should know why he’s feeling down.

9:50 PM – You: Uh, no. Has he said we are?

As soon as you hit send Bokuto opens the bathroom door, startling you in the process. The scent of his shampoo follows him as he walks around the room. You inhale out of habit, suddenly getting hit with a pang of nostalgia. That soapy scent that clung to him whenever you cuddled him after his shower was strong enough to ease your worries, and suddenly you wanted nothing more than to be engulfed in his arms.

You sink back into bed, leaving your phone on the nightstand in the process. You turn on your side as you watch Bokuto sit on the edge of the bed, his back toward you. You tug on the hem of his shirt to get his attention.

He turns around, a brow raised, and you know he’s waiting for you to speak.

“Atsumu asked me if we’re fighting.”

He swallowed and you could see his Adam’s apple bob, causing you to sit up.

“Bokuto, have you told them we’ve been fighting?”

Bokuto couldn’t bring himself to say no because he knew it was going to be easier for him to handle you being mad at him over this than over why he was truly pushing you away. He wanted to get used to the silence before sealing the deal. He knew it was selfish of him. He was cushioning the blow for himself, but who would cushion it for you?

You mistook his silence for a definitive yes. Why was he telling his teammates that you and him were in the middle of a fight? When you in fact were not. You say his name, this time your voice is a little louder, firmer.

“Bokuto.”

His heart clenched at your use of his surname. There was no love laced in your voice either, only concern and a growing frustration. But you were still at his side. He was still going to get to feel the bed dip from your weight, and he’d savor it; he’d savor every last bit. He didn’t say anything other than a soft-spoken goodnight. He lied on his back and got comfortable under the covers, or as comfortable as he could since you were still sitting up and glaring daggers at him.

“This isn’t over.” You sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time since he had returned home from practice. You reach for your phone to send Atsumu one last text before turning off the lamp on your nightstand.

10:13 PM – You: I guess we are…

  By the time you wake up Bokuto’s gone. You look over at his side of the bed, running your fingers over his pillow. There was no use in starting your day in a sour mood, so you swing your legs off the bed and stand up, deciding that your boyfriend’s mood won’t ruin yours. You start to get ready for work, the only noise in your room coming from the open window. Quickly, you make your way toward the kitchen, making breakfast while the TV hums quietly in the background. You needed some form of noise other than the ticking of the clock and the air conditioning, and the news did just fine in filling the apartment with whatever was going on in the world.

While you eat, Atsumu sends you another text.

7:27 AM – Atsumu: Are you okay?

You lock your phone after skimming over the message, not bothering to respond yet. Damn Atsumu and the care he has for you. Being Bokuto’s girlfriend comes with its perks. You both share the same group of friends because let’s admit, who could hate them. Of course, you both have your share of personal friends but for the most part, you’re always around one of Bokuto’s friends.

Throughout the years as Bokuto’s girlfriend, Atsumu and you became close. His friendship turned into one you valued a lot, but you couldn’t deal with his questions at the moment, not before work. Later. Later would be better.

And like that, later turned into never. You were headed home from work and had gone through the day with no text or call from your beloved partner. You can’t say the same for Atsumu. He called you during your lunch break, which you ignored, and he texted several times more after. You ignored them all.

This wasn’t like Bokuto, and you were beginning to get tired of the radio silence. He never pushed you away, especially when he needed you the most.

Then it dawned on you.

He’s going to break up with you. It only made sense considering it seemed like he no longer needed you. Suddenly, an immense weight fell on your shoulders at the thought of having to face the fact that he no longer loves you. When did he stop? You rack your brain for clues, for telltale signs that show he obviously doesn’t want to be with you anymore. And that’s when the confusion settles in because prior to their loss he had never gone a day without telling you he loved you. Not a day had gone by without him looking at you with the utmost adoration. He never stopped loving you.

So, why the sudden change? If it wasn’t you, was it the team?

You pulled out your phone to call Atsumu, feeling that for the first time in over a week you had an idea of what was going on. He answers after the first ring and you can’t help the smile that graces your features.

“Finally, I hear from ya.” You can hear the scowl in his voice and you huff out a quiet laugh.

“I’m sorry, ‘tsumu. Hey, I’ve got a question.”

“Uh-oh, sounds serious. Should I be worried?”

You hold your phone between your shoulder and ear as you unlock the front door of your shared apartment with Bokuto. Atsumu can hear the jingle of your keys as you hum a quiet no in response to his question. He can hear you shut the door behind you and the click of the lock, no doubt your shoes probably being slipped off after shrugging off your coat. You drop your keys in a bowl by the door before making your way to the kitchen to get something to drink.

“Atsumu, I’m the one that’s worried. Did Bokuto get into an argument with any of you guys after your last game?”

Atsumu swallows thickly as he recalls the memory of the last game, shuddering as if you had just rubbed salt into the wound. He thinks about what Bokuto had said after, about how he wished you were there and that he would’ve played better had you been cheering him on. But he can’t remember a fight. After the game, the group hit a bar and got tipsy. The night blurs into a muddied mess he can’t remember.

You wait with baited breath as he silently picks through his brain, trying to gather the pieces of that night. You’re about to say his name to get his attention but he speaks up before you can.

“No, we haven’t fought since then. But that’s what I wanted to talk to ya about. Are you two fighting?”

You set down the cup you reached for and fill it with water. “No, Atsumu, we’re not. Which is why I was hoping he’s been upset with one of you guys.” You take a sip and set the cup down harder than you intended. Water spilled over the edge and you shook your hand to get the water off.

“Hoping?” Atsumu can hear you open and close a cabinet.

You wiped down the counter after having grabbed a napkin. You sigh into the phone as you throw it in the trash. “Yes, Atsumu. I was hoping.”

That’s when Atsumu hears it, the helplessness in your voice.

You’re slowly coming to the realization that Bokuto doesn’t want you anymore. You hear keys jingling and the door knob rattle, announcing your boyfriend’s arrival. The panic you feel terrifies you but you can’t help it.

“I gotta go ‘tsumu! He’s here.” And with that, you hang up.

Bokuto steps in quietly despite seeing that the kitchen light is on. It’s only late in the evening, still too early to go to sleep, but he was hoping he wouldn’t have to see your face or hear your voice. He needed to keep the distance. He holds his breath as he slips his shoes off and drops his duffel bag by the couch, waiting for you to come bounding up to him the way you usually do to greet him after practice. But you don’t. And he’s afraid. He’s afraid to call out your name, afraid that you’ll respond.

You’re frozen in place by the counter, gazing at the water in your cup, vision blurring the longer you stare. Bokuto takes cautious steps toward the kitchen, and when his eyes land on your obviously tense figure his heart deflates. You both were walking on eggshells around each other, and he was to blame.

He could tell you now and get the heartbreak over with, but the devil on his shoulder told him to wait one more week. Just one more. It was awfully selfish and it made his gut twist in guilt but he couldn’t let you go. You’re his everything. You kept him grounded. Who was going to tell him to take a break when he pushed himself too hard during practice? Who was going to wash his hair when he was too tired, or simply because he wanted to spend time with you? Who was going to reassure him every morning and night? No one else would hold him the way you did because you held him as if he’d disappear. No one would love him the way you did.

You blinked several times before shifting your gaze to his face, and you noticed the way his eyes welled with tears.

“Kou? Do you still love me?”

His heart clenched as he registered your words. He wanted nothing more than to pull you into a hug and apologize for how he’s been treating you. You have no idea how much he wishes that’s all he has to apologize for, how desperately he wants to be able to blame their recent game for his awful behavior.

His ears ring with your question. He does still love you, and precisely because he loves you, he should tell you.

You stand there, waiting for Bokuto to answer. His eyebrows furrow as he thinks, and you wonder if he truly has to think about how to respond to a simple yes or no question. He doesn’t speak, but he closes the gap between you with quick strides. He pulls you into his arms, cradling the back of your head with one of his hands while his other arm snakes around your waist.

He holds you close as he wills the tears not to fall, and as he runs his fingers through your hair, he recalls the brief moments he remembers of that night. He shuts his eyes to force the images away but that only makes them more vivid.

He knew it was wrong as his fingers danced along her skin. Was he that upset about your absence from his game? He understood you were busy, and yet he couldn’t stop thinking about what could’ve happened had you been there. Perhaps they would’ve won. Perhaps they could’ve made it further into the tournament. Perhaps they could’ve stepped onto the court once more. All these maybes and what ifs were useless, he knew that. And yet…

He was too far gone to care as he let himself indulge in the girl beneath him. She clung to him tightly as he continued to take the stress and the disappointment of the day out. A light sheen of sweat was present on both of their bodies, and the moon illuminated them throughout the entire time, like a blanket meant to keep Bokuto Koutaro’s secret. The pleasure was short lived as he realized that she didn’t fit perfectly against him the way you did. You two were like puzzle pieces that fit every time, two souls bound together. He couldn’t bear to keep his eyes open. He squeezed them shut tight and his ears rang with the lewd sounds that tumbled past her red lips.

Bokuto opens his eyes as he clings to you. A single, guilty thought sat in the back of his mind, however. What she doesn’t know won’t kill her. Bokuto’s arms slightly tighten at the intrusion. He shouldn’t be thinking like this. If he loved you, he wouldn’t be playing with your emotions the way he currently was. He saw the way your eyes looked at him after asking him if he still loved you. The way your eyes, glassy with unshed tears, were like an open door. He could see the fear, the confusion, the hope-your life was hanging on the balance of that one question. He knew his answer would either lift the current weight off your chest or would weigh you down until you couldn’t breathe.

So, he decided to wait.

He let out a shaky breath as he pulled back to look at you. “Of course, I still love you.” He turned you so that he could lead you toward the room. “Come on, let’s get some sleep.”

You eyed him warily, unconvinced despite his reassurance, but for tonight you’d play along. You were tired, both mentally and emotionally. So, you wait for your boyfriend to turn off the kitchen lights, then let him lead you to your bedroom. Bokuto gulps as he walks down the hallway with his hand on the small of your back. He felt worse than before, and he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to make it through another week. He desperately wanted to give himself a few more days with you, but the guilt was eating him alive.

The atmosphere is tense as the both of you get ready for bed, opting to take turns using the bathroom unlike your usual routine, which consists of the two of you shoving each other to get to the sink first. Tonight, there’d be no playful shoves while brushing your teeth, just your own pair of eyes with dark bags under your eyes staring back at you.

You settle into bed, both of you staying on your own side. You’ve been with Bokuto long enough to know he can’t sleep without holding you, so you’re very aware of the dark bags under his eyes too. Neither of you have been able to get much sleep, and tonight is no different. He tosses and turns, kicks the blanket off then pulls it over him again. And this continues well into the early morning, until finally you give in and reach for his hand.

He tenses up, then slowly starts to relax. You turn on your side so you can wrap an arm around his torso, and you can tell he isn’t fully relaxing his body into the mattress. You pull him close, your hand rubbing circles into his lower back, and his breathing eventually deepens. Sighing, you kiss his forehead and cup his face in your hand, your thumb smoothing out the wrinkles on his forehead, then rubbing over the apples of his cheek.

He was distraught and you weren’t sure why. It had to be more than having lost a match. He’d lost games before and never reacted like this. You kiss his forehead once more before wrapping his arms around you so that you too could fall asleep. Maybe tomorrow during that split second after waking up where your memory is foggy, you’ll think that it’s just another morning waking up in his arms. And maybe you’ll be able to trick yourself, for even just the briefest of moments, that you’re happy.

Bokuto may have had the same idea because after waking up the following morning, the sky still a pale blue, the city still quiet, he forgets what’s been plaguing his mind. He pulls you in close and kisses your forehead like he always did before. A smile graces his face, and it’s a genuine smile. The one where his eyes turn into crescents and his lips pull back to reveal his teeth. He’s happy, truly happy, for a few seconds. And then the weight of the world collapses on him and he feels like he’s falling. He rubs his temple with a hand then untangles himself from you, giving you one last longing look before stepping into the bathroom to get ready.

He always goes to the gym before practice, and if not the gym, then he goes for a run. He gets ready for the rest of his day as quietly as possible so as to not wake you up, and before he leaves the room, he leans over your sleeping figure and presses a kiss to your forehead, then the tip of your nose. He looks at you and feels his chest tighten because this is what he threw away. He risked the unconditional love and safety you gave him all because he was upset that you couldn’t go. There was no excusing that. It was a ridiculous reason really, because it makes him sound selfish. And he was, in that brief moment, he was selfish and it was going to cost him a relationship he never thought would end. Because when he pictured his wife, it was you. You two were supposed to grow old together. It was supposed to be you and him in this life and every other life that was to come.

He blinks the tears away, leaves a chaste kiss, and turns to leave the room when you reach out and tug at his shirt. Sleepily, you mumble a soft I love you then let go. You continue sleeping as if you hadn’t just ripped his heart out. Bokuto covers his mouth before he can let out a choked sob. He deserves to feel this torment and more, because what you’d be feeling would be a thousand times worse. He turns on his heels and leaves the room, not bothering to grab breakfast before leaving the apartment. He had to get away, because being inside your shared dwelling was suffocating.

  The next few days go by like a blur. You’ve gradually become accustomed to the quieter responses you get from your boyfriend. He’s somewhat responsive now and reciprocates the featherlight kisses you press to his cheek whenever he arrives or leaves your home, and you think that maybe he’s beginning to get over it. However, you can tell he’s not completely back.

So, when Bokuto asks you to wash his hair after one of his practice sessions, you think finally, his sour mood is gone and the Bokuto you know and love is back. You hope he’ll be cuddly after because you miss being in his arms-his arms that kept you safe and warm. Nothing would ever beat being held by him because he held you like nothing else mattered, as if nothing more important would ever exist at the same time as him.

Little did you know, Bokuto was savoring the last few moments he was allowing himself to share with you. He’d tell you tonight. He didn’t want to tell you, but my god, the guilt was gnawing at his insides. Every time he looked at you his stomach would turn, and seeing the hopeful look in your eyes when he’d press a kiss to your cheek was like a punch to his gut. He knew you deserved better.

You follow Bokuto into your shared room, a small smile raising the corner of your lips as you walk past him and into the bathroom. “I’m gonna start your bath, Kou.”

He hums in response as he starts to pull his shirt over his head, but stops and pulls his shirt back down so he can scan your shared bedroom. He’d probably never see his room with your belongings again. His place won’t feel as inhabited considering he was gone for long hours most of the time, whether it be for training or practice, matches at home or out of the country. You made his apartment feel like a home, with your clothes thrown over the chair in the corner of the room, your skincare a disarray in the bathroom cabinets after the two of you would have your weekly skincare date because sometimes it was all he’d have time for but at least you were spending time together. He noticed the books on your nightstand, one a little more worn out than the rest because it was your favorite. He knows if he were to open it, he’d find your messy handwriting, which was usually neat but because of the limited space it looked messy, in the margins of the pages. Your glasses sat atop the book and that’s how he knows you had been reading it before he arrived.

He looks over to the closet where your clothes are clearly overtaking his half. Once you leave, he’ll have room to spare. He finds the rest of your books sitting atop the shelves in the closet, and he recalls you shoving them in any place they’d fit because you just had so many. His eyes wander to the photos of the two of you, some plastered to the walls while others are placed in picture frames that sit atop both of your nightstands, your vanity, your bookshelf, anywhere that has enough space for a frame. He hopes you’ll let him keep a few, for his memories’ sake.

You peek your head out from the bathroom after having called out Bokuto’s name twice, only to be ignored. “Hey Kou, did you not hear me?”

He turns around, tears falling down his cheeks. Your frustration is long forgotten as you walk toward him, pulling him into the tightest embrace. “Kou, whatever it is that’s bothering you…you know you can tell me, right?”

At that, he sobs. Loud. His shoulders shake uncontrollably as the dam he had built throughout the past two weeks crumbles. His resolve shatters as his tears soak your shirt. His fingers grip your shirt tightly as he holds you impossibly close. He manages to quiet down, choking on his whispered response. “But I can’t tell you.”

You try to pull back, but his grip only gets tighter as he buries his face into your neck. “Kou, you need to tell me why you’re so worked up. Baby, I’m worried about you.”

He lets you pull back just a bit, and you cup his face so you can thumb his tears away. His heart constricts at both the pet name and at the way you’re gently holding his face. He continues to speak in a hushed tone. “I can’t tell you because you’ll hate me and never want to see me.” At his admission, tears well in his eyes again and you can’t wipe them away quick enough. You settle for just cupping his face in your hands.

“Why would I hate you? Did you do something worth hating?”

He squeezes his eyes shut, not being able to look at you as he nods. At this, your own heart constricts, and the concern your heart held for Bokuto slowly turned into anguish. What had he done?

“Bokuto…what did you do?”

He opens his eyes, the anguish in your heart somehow reflected in them. You could see the fear, it was the same fear you had last week, the fear of losing one another. He stumbled over his own words; the panic evident. “I-I’m your Kou!” He choked on his own sobs as he clung to you once more.

You were at your wits end though. You were tired of feeling like something was being kept from you. “Bokuto, please! Just spit it out!”

His eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes were shut tight as he confessed. “I cheated! Okay?!” His chest heaved as if he had just run a marathon. “I cheated…” he repeated, quieter this time.

Your hands fell to your sides, your body numb as you processed what he just said. He cheated? Cheated when? With who? No, you didn’t want to know who. You felt your knees begin to buckle, so you sat on the bed before you could fall. You stared ahead but not really seeing. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to cry out of disappointment, out of sadness, or out of anger.

Despite clearing your voice, it still came out strained when you spoke. “When?”

Bokuto looked at you with wide eyes. “When what?”

“My god Bokuto, don't be an idiot. When did you cheat?”

He grimaced as you called him both by his last name and an idiot. It hurt like hell and he wanted nothing more than to fall to his knees to beg you to talk about something else, about how you two were going to get over this. But he was glued to his spot. “The night we lost.”

You scoffed after realizing it’s the only game you missed this season. “So, let me get this straight…I miss one game and you screw some random girl that looks your way?” You stand up, realizing if you stay beside him, you’ll cave. Because with that look of utter remorse you’re sure he could convince you to stay, but you won’t. As easy as it is to forgive Bokuto Koutaro, you know you’ll never forget. You can try and work this out with him, but this is something you’d hold over his head for the rest of his life. You knew that’d only make your life miserable. So, you walk to the closet and grab a duffel bag, throwing in a few changes of clothes to get you through a couple of days until you’ve completely moved out.

Bokuto sees the resolve on your face, and he knows that no amount of crying and begging will get you to stay. He stands in the doorway of the closet, effectively blocking your only way out, and he foolishly asks you a question he already knows the answer to. “Can’t you stay? Can’t we work this out? Because it wasn’t like that I swear!” He tentatively reaches his hand out, but you retreat.

You finally look at him, angry tears spilling down your cheeks. “So, what am I supposed to make of this then?! Huh?!” You turn your head so you can blink the tears away.

“I don’t know! Think of anything other than me not loving you because I swear, I do!” Warm tears run down his cheeks again, this time in defeat.

You angrily wipe at your eyes. “No, Bokuto! If you loved me, you wouldn’t have done that! How could you have been so selfish?! You knew I was busy and yet you couldn’t keep it in your pants long enough until you got home!” You dropped your duffel bag after zipping it closed. “You came home to me right after, Bokuto! I took care of you that night because of how wasted you were! You came home and slept beside me after doing God knows what!” This time you let the tears flow freely, hoping that the hurt in your eyes and the pain laced in your voice hurt your now ex-boyfriend tenfold. You wanted him to hurt the way you were and more.

He reached for you, pulling you into his arms, and you had never felt more repulsed in your life. His arms that once promised security and safety, his arms that you could call home, no longer were any of that because those same arms embraced another woman. You shoved Bokuto off, pushing him as hard as you could but it didn’t faze him. “Bokuto, move.”

The look in your eyes was enough to kill, and so he stepped aside. He was frozen in place as he watched you grab the duffel bag from the floor and walk past him as if he’s not there. He watches as you grab your phone to call God knows who, but when he hears you say Atsumu’s name, his stomach flips. Atsumu would hate him for this, probably for the rest of their lives.

You continue surveying the room and the bathroom for any necessities you may need as you wait for Atsumu to stop talking. Your voice is hoarse when you speak. “I’m leaving in a minute or so, Atsumu. I’d rather drive myself then wait for you to get here. I can’t spend another second with him.”

Bokuto balls his hands into fists because now you won’t even address him by his name. He knows he’s the one to blame, yet he can’t help the tinge of jealousy.

“I know I’m in no condition to drive, but I just can’t stay!” You let out a frustrated breath. “Sorry ‘tsumu. I’d just rather risk it right now. Look, I finished packing. I’ll see you soon.” You hang up the call as you sling the duffel bag over your shoulder and start walking down the hallway.

Bokuto knows there’s nothing worth saving anymore, you have made your decision abundantly clear, and yet he follows you anyway. He stands a few feet away from the entrance, giving you plenty of space so you can put on your sweater and shoes. When he speaks, his voice is hoarse too, and he has to clear it several times so he can speak clearly.

“Can I…can I keep a few photos?”

You pause midway of tying your shoes and look up from your crouched position by the door. His figure is blurry from the tears you’re holding back, so you let out a humorless chuckle to mask the hurt because you would not give Bokuto the satisfaction of knowing that you too felt like your heart had been ripped out. You notice him flinch at your indifference and feel a small sense of pride, but the feeling doesn’t last nearly as long as you hoped. “Do whatever you want with the photos, Bokuto. I don’t care.”

You stand up, suddenly not wanting to leave. This had been your home for the last few years, he had been your home for the last few years. You take in a deep breath, readying yourself for whatever it is you’ll feel once you leave. You put your hand on the door knob and pause, looking at Bokuto over your shoulder. “I hope it was worth it.”

Bokuto can only watch from where he’s glued to the floor. His limbs feel too heavy to move. Your figure is blurry to him as well, but he shamelessly lets the tears fall. He wants you to see that he’s sorry despite knowing that won’t change the outcome of the situation.

You step outside, the cool air allowing you to breathe freely for once in the last two weeks. Before shutting the door, you give him one last, good look. “I’ll come get my stuff when you’re not home, and since you’re never really home it shouldn’t be that hard.” You couldn’t help the jabs that you were throwing his way.

“I’ll have ‘tsumu accompany me, so I can be sure you won’t be here. I know you won’t wanna face him any time soon.”

Bokuto just nods, because he hears you but doesn’t quite understand. His ears are ringing after every sentence you speak. He doesn’t hear the soft goodbye Bokuto that tumbles past your lips before closing the door with a soft click. And he wishes he had, because his name coming from your lips would always sound heavenly no matter in what tone you said it.

He walks toward the window and pushes the curtain aside. He watches you pull out of the driveway, and just like that, you’re gone. Just like that, his relationship is over. He pulls out his phone because there’s only one person he could talk to right now that would hear him out.

He puts his phone up to his ear and impatiently taps his foot as the line continues to ring. Finally, they pick up, and the breath Bokuto is holding to keep his composure is released. He lets the curtain fall closed as he begins to cry again and somehow, he manages to spit out a few words through choked sobs. 

“Akaashi…she’s gone.”

the miya’s birthday

characters: atsumu, osamu; post! timeskip

wc: 989

warnings: spoiler at the beginning about osamu

a/n: kinda angsty, maybe even bittersweet?? it’s still october 5th in calfornia so bite me, ‘kay? this isn’t proofread either so if you catch anything please let me know

It was October 4th, just a few minutes before midnight, before October 5th, and Osamu was closing up Miya Onigiri. He twisted the key in the lock, pulling the key out after hearing a soft click, and begins the short walk to his car. The night was quiet save for his footsteps against the pavement and the buzzing of the lampposts lining the sidewalk. He was tired, to say the least, and wasn’t exactly looking forward to his birthday.

Don’t get him wrong, sharing his birthday with a twin can be fun, and he would say he cherished each and every birthday spent beside Atsumu; however, this birthday would be different, it’d be quieter, less exciting. He didn’t hold anything against Atsumu, after all, his brother was just doing what he loved.

They both were lucky enough to be doing what they had only dreamed of as high schoolers. Osamu chuckles, noting that they were such kids when attending Inarizaki. That time of their lives seems so far away now, like a hazy fog in the morning that is gone by midday. Osamu unlocks his car, getting in swiftly and turning the key in the ignition. The engine purrs as the car awaits to be driven. Osamu knows he won’t make it home before midnight, so he waits in his car instead, waits because he knows his brother will call.

And just a minute before midnight, his phone lights up with a call from his twin brother, from the person who he can always count on no matter what. Osamu rubs his eyes to clear his vision, which had begun to blur due to how tired he is. He answers the call and Atsumu, sticking to his very nature, begins to obnoxiously sing Happy Birthday. Osamu laughs and sings along, sleep long forgotten because Atsumu can make you forget whatever it is you’re feeling for a moment, can make you forget your sorrows while he’s with you.

Once the off-key singing is over, they both speak.

“Happy birthday, ‘samu.”

“Happy birthday, ‘tsumu.”

They look at each other, not all surprised they spoke at the same time because they’d done that plenty of times before. And true to their nature, they both burst into a face-splitting fit of laughter, both probably reminiscing about how they used to speak simultaneously so often as kids that it freaked their mom and other kids out.

Osamu manages to calm down first, and at seeing Atsumu wipe tears from the corners of his eyes, he blurts out, “I miss ya.”

Atsumu’s joyous smile turns into one of nostalgia, a smile that seems equally sad as it is happy, as he reminisces of moments from when they were kids. “I miss ya too, ‘samu.”

In the midst of the silence that fell after the quiet confessions, Atsumu finally takes notice of Osamu’s surroundings. “Ya still at work?”

“Nah, just in my car.”

Atsumu shakes his head. “But at work.”

“Well...yeah. In the parking lot of my job.”

“Ya mean yer dream job.”

“Where are ya taking this conversation, ‘tsumu?”

Atsumu sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, eyebrows furrowed as he ponders. With one hand, he begins to pick at the skin of his thumbnail, because where was this conversation headed. Truthfully, he knew what it is he wanted to say, and he was never one to hold back, so why was he struggling to just say what he needed to say.

Osamu picks up on his brother’s inner turmoil, having a gut feeling as to what Atsumu meant. “‘tsumu...I don’t hold it against ya. Yer where you need to be, the same way I’m where I need to be.”

Atsumu looks at his brother through the phone, eyes glossing over with tears desperately wanting to tip over. And he recalls to when they were in grade school, when they had finally made it to the double digits.

They stood under a big tree, about to bury a time capsule that they promised to open after another decade. Both were covered in dirt from head to toe, and Atsumu had even gotten some in his hair. You’d think they used each other to dig a hole instead of a shovel with how dirty they were.

Under the big tree that enveloped them in it’s cool shade they also promised each other to always celebrate every birthday together, no matter what. It didn’t matter if they were in the middle of a fight or if they were too busy, they promised to do whatever it takes to be together for every birthday. And so they upheld that promise, a promise so special, a promise that held the weight of the world, every year. That is, until...

Until today, with the Miya twins staring at each other through a phone screen, turning 26 away from each other. But Osamu couldn’t blame Atsumu. Atsumu was doing what he wanted with a passion so intense it was enviable. But Osamu was on the same page with that same passion, so he understood Atsumu. And it would’ve been hypocritical of him to expect Atsumu to fly back, when he could’ve flown to his brother all the same.

“Yer not mad?”

Osamu offers a genuine smile. “No, ‘tsumu. I could never be mad at ya for doing what ya love. Volleyball needed ya elsewhere, and my shop needs me here.”

Atsumu smiles a relieved smile, yet his eyes water again. “‘m still sorry I couldn’t make it.”

Osamu waves him off. “We’ll have next year.”

Atsumu smiles, because he knows he can count on Osamu the same way his brother counts on him. No matter how many fights they get in, they’ll always have each other. Atsumu nods in agreement, wiping at his eyes so he can see Osamu clearly. “Yeah, we will.”

only the necessities

feat. Atsumu

♡ a/n: hehe for @hopeful-and-dreaming

“Did you bring the list?” you asked as soon as you and Atsumu stepped foot into the furniture store.

Atsumu begins to nod, reaching into his pocket to retrieve the list of items that the two of you still needed for the new apartment. His hands come up empty, and he blinks at you.

“But you know what, it doesn’t matter because I have that list memorized. I have a perfect memory after all” he says, quickly walking away from you to grab a shopping cart.

Keep reading

you look like you’ve seen a ghost

a ghostface au

characters: atsumu and reader; post! timeskip

wc: 2.1k

warnings: PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS Y’ALL. THIS IS THE DARKEST THING I’VE EVER WRITTEN SO PLEASE PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS! use of pet names such as ‘doll’ and ‘my love’, slightly suggestive early on in the fic but nothing too explicit, mentions of reader having to use a safe word, there is a knife involved so there will be graphic content since the knife is used to harm reader, stabbing, harming, chasing, overpowering, blood, violence, death; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! this is heavily ooc for atsumu

a/n:  i debated for a long time whether i’d post this or not, so i just hope people heed my warnings. this is loosely based off of the scream movies, which is why it’s being posted the day of the official release of scream 5! i love horror movies y’all that’s why i felt like writing this. also i watched scream 5 yesterday since there was a showing with a live q&a after the movie, and y’all david arquette was so giggly it warmed my heart! not proofread! and thank you @haikyutiehoe​ for beta reading <3

Did you ever think you’d find yourself in a situation like this? No, not in the slightest. Writhing beneath Atsumu, wriggling in his firm grasp in a feeble attempt to slip away. His hands, warm and rough from callouses, held you close. There was no escaping. He had tossed the mask aside long ago, its empty eyes now mocking. Tears welled in your eyes while Atsumu’s glimmered with a craze you had never seen before, not even when he was dead set on winning a match.

“Atsumu, this isn’t funny anymore. Cut it out!” Your voice was hoarse from yelling, only you had been faking it for the most part, thinking Atsumu was just messing around and trying to scare you. Only when the very real, very sharp knife he pulled out from behind his back was held dangerously close to your jugular did it start to dawn on you. But by then he had already pinned you to the bed, and you remember his laugh had suddenly seemed more menacing, more daunting.

See, when you asked Atsumu to watch your all-time favorite slasher film with you, you didn’t think it’d come to this. So really, you’re to blame for your own death…and in a way, the fall of a famous volleyball player that would definitely end up in jail for brutally slaughtering his girlfriend. That is, if he was found guilty. Atsumu is as cunning as he is handsome, but most don’t see it. He hides it well under his boyish charm and dazzling smile. Besides, that accent gets him favors left and right. The judge would probably go weak at the knees and give Atsumu nothing more than a slap on the wrist if there just so happened to be enough evidence to take him to trial.

After having dated him for almost a year, you realized you had never watched the movie with him. You had mentioned it to him a couple of times before, but he never had the time to sit down and enjoy the movie with you. He was always busy, and though you knew that this is what comes with dating someone such as Atsumu, that didn’t mean you were any less bummed about it. So, when Atsumu went up to you one day during his off-season and asked you to put on the movie, you were excited to say the least. And he was hooked. You both ended up binging the rest of the movies until the early morning. You remember looking out the window and noticing the orange and pinkish hues in the sky after the movie marathon. You can almost hear the way he laughed then-an astonishing difference from the way he was laughing now.

And that’s where his fascination with Ghostface started. It was laughable really, because you had gone through this insane phase a few years prior. You remember how quickly you lost count on how many times you watched the first movie. You were just glad he was able to enjoy the movies you enjoy so much. So, when he came home one day with a Ghostface costume, you didn’t think much of it. You thought it was pretty neat actually since it wasn’t one of those cheap costumes. Who knew he’d end up taking it too far?

It started out subtle-the scaring. He’d put on the costume and hide in the hallway closet or under the bed. He’d jump out at you or grab your ankles, anything to get a reaction out of you. Of course, you’d scream because even after the countless number of times that he’d scared you half to death you’d still fall for it. You’d both laugh it off though, and more often than not it would lead to a heavy make out session on the closest surface. Not that you had a thing for the mask, more so you were always up for a quickie with Atsumu. Actually, you were up for anything so long as Atsumu was there. If he was having fun who were you to deny him of his harmless pranks?

To Atsumu this was a rush-chasing you was a rush. And he found himself loving the surge of adrenaline that coursed through his body as you screamed-however fake those screams may be. After a while, he’d find himself gripping you a little tighter, pulling your hair a little harder just to see you wince and suck in a breath of air as you whined about how he was too rough. And he wanted to be rougher, to see just what your limits were. Of course, you had a safe word, and you found yourself using it at an alarming rate. He wasn’t trying to please you anymore; he was trying to break you. He wanted to see how far you could bend until you snapped.

The increasing red flags should have been enough to get you to pack your bags. And you were ready to. You just wanted to have one conversation with Atsumu to talk about whatever it is he was feeling, and you hoped you’d both be able to work it out before you resorted to leaving. He promised he’d stop, and true to his word he did. He wrapped you around his finger and had you eating out of the palm of his hand. He let weeks go by, being on his best behavior. It was so sudden, so drastic you’d be lying if you said you weren’t concerned. But he had you so wonderfully wrapped up in a blanket of ignorance that when he brought up the mask again weeks later you played along. After all, Ghostface was your favorite slasher.

Oh, how you’d regret showing him the movie. And you do. You regret it more than you’ve ever regretted anything in your entire life. Because with the way Atsumu eyed you, with a look in his eyes you’d never seen before, his lips curling into the most godawful smile you’d ever witnessed, you knew if you didn’t run out of your shared apartment alive within the next few minutes you wouldn’t be walking out at all.

Atsumu tapped both of your cheeks with the tip of the knife, a mocking lilt to his voice as he repeated what you said. He dug the tip of the knife into your left cheek just enough to form a dimple. “Cut what out, love?”

His head was tilted, an almost innocent look in his eyes but you knew better. And as he hovered over you, dragging the knife along your neck and down to your stomach, you kneed him in the groin, pushing Atsumu off of you before making a run for your front door. Luckily your bedroom door had been left open, and as you ran down the hallway you heaved a sigh of relief as you welcomed the view of the front door.

However, Atsumu had all his bases covered. He had deadbolted the front door. When? Who knows. How you could have missed that is beyond you. Nonetheless, you jiggled the door knob, but of course the door didn’t budge. You continued to jiggle the door knob, desperately hoping the door would magically open. Your heart was pounding in your ears so loud that you almost missed that behind you, a slightly hunched over Atsumu was shaking the keys dangling from his fingertips. Your blood ran cold.

“What’s the matter, doll? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” And despite his slightly pained expression, you could hear the smugness in his voice and the slightest of smirks tugging at the corner of his lips-a smirk that said he had won and you had lost.

You began to bang on the door, screaming out for help in hopes that the neighbors would hear you. And he laughed. A laugh so awful you couldn’t help but let out a sob. You turned around and pressed your back against the door. As long as you had your eyes on him you could defend yourself.

“So, what are ya’ gonna do now, love?” You shivered at the way the word love rolled off his tongue. What was once the sweetest of pet names now dripped with a hate you didn’t know he harbored; his tone laced with a venom you were sure could kill you. And as he stalked toward you, you decided to fight. Really because there was nothing else you could do. There was no use in letting him close the shortening gap between the two of you, and closing it yourself would surprise him and hopefully have him lose his balance, if only slightly.

So, you lunged at him once he was close enough to you. But just as Atsumu is cunning, he had been enamored with you. He knew you like the back of his hand, knew all of your tells and what the slightest of change in your expression meant. He knew what to watch out for. So, when you were mid-lunge and momentum ran its course, moving you forward no matter what you wanted to do, all he had to do was let you fall onto the knife. It was simple, really, and required little to no effort on his part.

You inhaled a ragged breath that sounded nothing like you, and the pain was unlike anything you’d ever felt. You held onto the hilt of the knife, hoping he wouldn’t pull it out. Your hands covered his own, and you slowly lifted your gaze to meet his, albeit was a little hard since you had to squint your eyes so you could hold a steady gaze. Or at least you hoped it was steady, you couldn’t really tell. Your mouth was gaping in a silent scream. Nothing was coming out and you just can’t seem to find your voice again. Tears fell freely as you desperately hoped he’d regain a semblance of sanity and call the ambulance, but he didn’t. He slowly pulled out the knife, and you felt an unfamiliar warmth run down your stomach. You knew it was your own blood, but you were too afraid to look.

You also couldn’t bring yourself to take your hands off of Atsumu. No matter how repulsed you were, his hands were the ones keeping you upright. You just couldn’t find the strength to fight against him.

“Atsumu please. Please just call the ambulance. Leave me here. I promise I won’t tell anyone; I swear!” You hoped you had gotten that across. You weren’t so sure if the yelling was in your head or if you had actually managed to speak above a soft whisper. One of the few things you’re absolutely sure about at the moment is that your throat feels like it’s been swallowing handfuls of sand.

Atsumu shook his head as if he were scolding a child. “Oh, my love. How right ya’ are ‘bout that. Of course, ya’ won’t tell anyone.” He grunted as he slid the knife back into the same wound, this time twisting it left and right. You screamed, but it sounded nothing like you. At least you think you screamed. You were positive you were having an out of body experience because you couldn’t figure what was real and what wasn’t; you were on the verge of blacking out. Your knees began to buckle, but Atsumu’s hold on you was firm. You weren’t going anywhere, but you wished he’d let you fall. Your head fell back as you were fighting to keep your vision clear. Everything seemed so hazy, and Atsumu looked like he was farther than he actually was.

“Ya’ know why ya’ won’t tell anyone?” He left the knife inside of you so he could grip the hair on the back of your neck to lift your head up. “Pay attention, doll.” He eyes scanned your face before he pressed a kiss to your cheek. His lips trailed up to the shell of your ear, and he repeated his question, this time barely above a whisper and with an edge in his tone that was no longer mockingly sweet. “Ya’ wanna know why ya’ won’t tell anyone?”

You knew Atsumu well enough to know he was expecting a response. So, with the bit of consciousness you had left, you gave him what he wanted by playing his little game. “Why?” You whispered.

Or at least you thought you whispered it.

You could feel the smirk against your ear, and all you could think of was how you wanted this to be over.

Atsumu let go of your head so he could pull the knife out once more. You didn’t have the energy to scream, all you could do was go limp in his hold. And the last words you heard were delivered as he landed the fatal blow.

“Because, my love, ya’ won’t be alive to tell anyone.”

[ somethin's different ]

— MIYA ATSUMU —

summary: you change your chapstick and he notices

note: sfw, fluff, gn!reader

wc: 500+

“Wah're you dooimg?” You manage to get out with Atsumu’s hands squishing your cheeks. Instead of giving you an answer, he just keeps kissing you. Press after press of his lips against yours and your eyebrow furrows the same time his does.

After each peck, he glances at your lips and blinks, lost in thought before going back in for another kiss. "What d'ya do?" Atsumu finally asks.

You stare right back at him, trying your hardest to understand what he means by that. "Uhh... context, please? Why are you being weird?"

"Hey—!" Atsumu protests, "I'm not weird," He says as he plants another one on you. Pulling back, he sticks his tongue in his cheek; the way he always does when he's confused. He’s so adorable, it makes you want to squeeze the life out of him. "I'm doin' an investigation, 'kay?"

Before you can stop him, he goes back in for another round. Pushing at his chest you begin to laugh, "Atsu... what has gotten into you?" He can't help but grin every time he hears your giggles, especially when he's the cause.

Your smile meets his as he mumbles against your mouth, "Somethin's different... Yer kisses aren't the same today."

You frown. “Bad different?”

Atsumu abruptly stops his barrage of kisses to look you dead in the eye. “No, no, no. Yer kisses could never be bad, yer so amazing ‘n you’ve got the most perfect mouth in th— ow!" He rubs at the spot on his chest you punched, "I just said they were different s’all,” Atsumu fully pouts, muttering something about “holdin’ back yer punches…that kinda hurt, baby.”

You put both hands on his cheeks just like he did to you a couple minutes ago, bringing his head forward, placing a soft kiss between his scrunched eyebrows. “I have no clue what you’re talking about, but okay, weirdo.” You say, planting another one onto his nose.

Before you can climb out of his lap, he jolts forward and licks your mouth. “Wha— ‘tsumu!”

“Yer chapstick.”

When all you do is blink at him, he clarifies, “Ya changed yer chapstick. What is that, strawberry?”

“Oh,” you say, letting him lean back into your space. “Yeah, I wanted to try out a new one. Do you like it? If not, I can buy my old one again.”

“Oi,” He tuts, arms circling around your waist to bring you closer, “I didn’t say that. I like it. I like you,” Atsumu says as he rests his forehead against yours, his eyes smiling.

“You have a crush on me?” You raise a brow, teasing, “That’s embarrassing ‘tsumu…”

He licks at your mouth again in response. Ignoring your various protests, Atsumu manages to roll the two of you over so he hovers on top of you. “C’mere, gimme kisses.”

“No—! Stop licking me!” You giggle again when he brings his mouth down to the ticklish part of your neck.

“I have to get used to yer new chapstick, c’mon.” He whispers, trailing his lips back up to your face, littering kisses all over. “Kiss. Me.”

Well, when he says it like that…

masterlist

<3 likes + reblogs appreciated!

WAIT THIS IS SO CUTE

A Genuine Mess - Atsumu x f!reader

Pairing: Atsumu x f!reader

Summary: Atsumu insults you, the quietest girl in his class. But as he gets to know you, your few words often leave him blushing.

Genre, etc.: Tooth rotting fluff, Atsumu is a dork in love but still consistent with his canon character, reader is quiet but not timid

Warnings: none

Author's Notes: I wanted to try a different personality for the reader as well as taking one of Atsumu's negative character traits and flipping it on its head :) This was fun to write. Hehehe.

Words: 1.9k

*****

"What? She's here for me?" said Atsumu. He pressed his lips together to hide the smile forming on his lips. As he attempted to walk to the gym doors as normally as possible, Aran tilted his head while Osamu wore an amusing smirk.

Atsumu leaned on the frame of the gym doors. "What'd ya want?" he asked you, trying to be as smooth as possible. His voice didn't reveal his usual arrogance and was unexpectedly gentle.

"Could I see your hand?" you asked him with a quiet but direct tone.

When he held his hand out in front of you, you delicately turned it over, palm faced down, and positioned his fingers one by one. You didn't notice him gripping the side of his jersey in his other hand, trying to keep it together every time your fingers grazed his skin. You let go of his hand to pull out your phone and angled it to get a good shot of his hand.

Click.

"Thank you Atsumu-san," you told him, putting your phone away and leaving the gym.

Atsumu returned to the court, not even able to hide the childish grin from his teammates anymore. Some widened their eyes and others dropped their jaws as they witnessed the entire scene.

"So when did you start liking her?" Suna asked him.

"I don't like her," Atsumu adamantly responded.

A laugh escaped Osamu's lips and Atsumu told him to shut up. He hated that his twin knew exactly why he was acting like this.

*****

"Well that looks ugly."

Seated at your desk, you looked up from your sketch to see Atsumu's scrunched up nose. It didn't take long for it to disappear. Osamu whacked him on the head for insulting the quietest girl in class two and quite possibly their whole year.

"Sorry about this jerk," Osamu told you. "He doesn't have a filter."

But when he started to drag Atsumu away from you, they heard the rare sound of your voice.

"Miya-san," you said.

They both turned around but after looking at each other, they assumed you were referring to your classmate Atsumu.

"Why does it look ugly?"

"Ha?" Atsumu gawked at you. He scratched the back of his head. "I dunno. The shoulders just looked gross"–he got whacked on the head again–"Hey!" He glared at Osamu.

After they bickered for a bit, they turned their attention back to you, but you were already facing your desk, immersed in your sketch. Osamu raised an eyebrow at Atsumu, expecting him to know what that was all about, but he only shrugged his shoulders, not having a clue either.

The next time Atsumu heard your voice was when you came to see him at his desk.

"Ha? What's this?" he asked.

In front of him, you had placed another sketch. You didn't say a word but looked at him as if you were expecting some sort of comment.

Atsumu raised an eyebrow but looked at the sketch anyway.

"What's wrong with this dude's hand?" he asked as he squinted at the drawing, holding your sketchbook up to his eyes. "It looks like it's dislocated or something."

The classmate beside him shot his eyes open. He then looked up at you to see your reaction.

"Thank you," you told Atsumu with a little nod before returning to your desk. Those were the only words you had for Atsumu and they had left him and his classmate speechless.

Atsumu's eyes lit up the third time you came to his desk.

"Which one looks the worst?" you asked him, showing him three different sketches.

"This one," he said, pointing to the one in the middle. "There's no way a person could have hair like that."

You ignored his comment and asked him again which one looked worse. He still chose the middle one, saying the expression reminded him too much of his brother.

You gave him a nod as thanks and as he watched you return to your desk, there was a small uptick at the corner of his mouth, gazing at you gathering your pencils together and continuing your progress.

Over the next couple of weeks, he watched you from afar as you drew doodles during class when you should've been paying attention. He wondered if he should actually write notes from the lesson in case you needed them. Maybe he'd pass them to you the next time you showed him your artwork.

But you hadn't made a trip to his desk during the next two weeks. Why did you stop coming? So when you left the classroom, he quickly opened the sketchbook that was left on your desk and went through it page by page, curious to see what you'd been drawing this whole time. As he flipped through the pages, he saw how your drawings had gradually improved. He couldn't help but smile at your growth as an artist.

"Miya-san."

He jumped at your voice and snapped the book shut. He fumbled over his words. "I wasn't looking! It just fell and I picked it up from the ground!" he told you. "When I put it back on yer desk it just happened t' be like that!"

He then saw an expression he had never seen on your face. Your brows were furrowed and your lips turned into a frown. You let out a deep breath. "Miya-san, you're free to look through my sketchbook, but please don't lie to me."

His eyes widened before he lowered them to stare at the classroom floor. Shoulders sagging, he told you in a hushed voice, "I'm sorry." He sighed and dragged his feet back towards his desk. But just when he was about to pull out his chair, he heard your soft voice.

"Miya-san," you said, looking directly at him when he turned to you. "Like I said, you can come and look at it whenever you want."

Atsumu pressed his lips together, trying to hold back a stupid grin on his face. But his eyes betrayed his attempt as they crinkled and turned into crescents, elated at your offer.

*****

Over the next several weeks, Atsumu used any excuse he could to chat with you at your desk before he finally settled on talking to you about anything and everything. He tried to get to know you, asking you questions, but your answers were short and simple, not knowing how else to respond.

However, Atsumu shamelessly continued to talk about himself, his brother, the team, and whatever else was on his mind that day. You always nodded and listened with a smile.

"I think she's just being nice to you," commented Osamu.

"She's never stopped me," Atsumu replied with a huff, crossing his arms, which only resulted in Osamu shaking his head.

Without looking up from your sketch, you told him, "I like hearing him talk."

Osamu's eyes grew at your response but when he glanced over at his twin, Atsumu's ears and cheeks had turned red.

"Oh?" the silver haired twin said with a sly grin. "You're blushing 'Tsumu."

"No I'm not!" Atsumu said after clearing his throat and turning his head away. Osamu was about to tease him when instead, you said something that deepened his blush.

"It's cute."

Osamu's jaw dropped. Atsumu froze at your comment before deciding to put his face down on your desk, burying it into his arms.

As you and Atsumu got to know each other, he learned that you were still close with your friends from middle school. They were there for you, always supporting you and your passion for art. But when you asked them what they thought about your drawings, they had always said they looked good. You were grateful for them but you couldn't tell if they were just being nice.

"So is that why you asked me about yer drawings?" Atsumu noted. You confirmed it with a nod and he looked at you with longing eyes and a soft smile.

You caught him off-guard when you took a photo of him. "Your expression was interesting just now," you told him. "I want to use it as reference."

Atsumu blushed and covered the lower half of his face. He muttered something through his hands that you didn't quite catch.

"Hm?" you asked.

"Y-you can use me as reference any time."

You took him up on his offer. You'd often snap pictures of him, casually pulling out your phone when you'd find an interesting expression on his face. You even came to see him at practice when you wanted to practice drawing some hands. He often wondered what you noticed about him when you used him as reference, what expressions you saw in him.

One day after classes had ended and volleyball practice was cancelled, he sat at the other side of your desk as you switched to a different drawing pencil from your set. What did you see when you looked at him? His eyes? His nose? His lips?

His hand rose next to your face, his thumb grazing your cheek. When you looked up at him from your drawing, he pulled his hand back, suddenly realizing what he was doing.

He bit his lip, scolding himself for doing that to you. You called his name and his attention was back on you.

"Why did you stop?" you asked.

Butterflies were fluttering in his stomach, not at all expecting those words. Looking at you through his eyelashes, he saw you directly looking back at him. Were you serious?

Somehow getting the courage to make a move, he drew his hand toward you and gently cupped your cheek. He bent over your desk and brought his lips near yours, stopping midway as if waiting for permission to follow through. You leaned in a little closer and he closed the gap, feeling your soft lips against his.

Pulling back, his eyes studied your face for some sort of reaction. He bit his lip, doubting if that was what you wanted. Perhaps he didn't do a good job or you had changed your mind after the kiss.

What if you were just doing this for reference?

He searched your eyes for an answer, not knowing that you saw the insecurity in his.

"I liked it, Atsumu."

His eyes grew. He was both delighted and flustered, not believing that he got to kiss you, that you'd accept a kiss from someone like him. He hugged you and placed a kiss on your forehead, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close.

*****

"Guys! I have a girlfriend!" Atsumu declared, storming into the gym the next day. They all raised their brows when they saw who was holding his hand.

"Are you serious?" asked Aran.

"It's probably fake," Suna commented.

"He must have bribed her or something," Osamu added.

"All of ya just shut up!" Atsumu yelled at them as they all gave him a skeptical look. He sighed and dropped his shoulders as he held your hand.

They snickered and teased him, but when there was a silent pause in the air, they heard your voice for the first time.

"I like him," you told his team. Your voice was quiet but they heard every word. They freaked out, gawking at the two of you, an unlikely pair.

Atsumu turned his face away because his cheeks went red again. Your words, more often than not, caused him to be up in a fluster.

*****

I hope you enjoyed it.

I couldn't help but have Suna say it was fake for all my "A Glimpse of Yellow" readers. lolll.

If you liked this one, you might like one of these:

1) my Tendou one-shot (timid!reader)

2) my Sakusa one-shot (where he gets a crush on exchange student!reader)

3) my Kyoutani one-shot (another unexpected pairing)

And I want to shamelessly throw in my Suna chaptered fic (fake dating) just because it's my current series. lol.

I also have a Google form for my taglist if any of you are interested in it.