Sakusa: I've caught this stupid disease because of Atsumu
Komori: For the last time Sakusa, feelings are not an illness
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ch 4 - ch 3 here - series masterlist here
pairings: atsumu x reader, akaashi x reader
summary: When Akaashi(legal counsel for the MSBY Jackals) hires his ex girlfriend to help handle the PR nightmare the Miya Atsumu has become, you confirm his worst suspicions. 1) Someone is attempting to sabotage Japanese Olympians. 2) He is definitely still in love with you. MINORS DNI
a/n: part one, tw: for drugging(not of reader), Akaashi wasn’t a great boyfriend in college, Atsumu is more than meets the eye, but that’s how he likes it, tw guns, tw scenes in a hospital, threats of violence. Action/Adventure/Smut W Plot
Brat.” He leans in. “Betcha you’d behave for me, huh?” All the blood in your body rushes towards your cheeks as you look away.
“Just tell me what you did.”
“Well it was pretty last minute to getcha into this event, it’s pretty exclusive,” you roll your eyes at him, “But they were willing to make an exception,” he smiles, taking you by the arm and leading you to what must be the team table, “For my wife.” Your mouth drops open and you see, next to his own name, in neat cursive. Miya, F/n.
“I’m going to kill you,” you hiss, “I’m going to KILL you.” He smirks.
“Don’t get yourself thrown outta such a fine establishment for threatenin’ your husband?” He oozes smarm, pulling out your chair for you as you scowl, and take your seat.
“This food better be incredible.” You cross your arms over your chest.
“It will be,” he says, sitting down next to you, “And just ‘cause I’m not drinkin’ doesn’t mean you have to abstain.” You sigh deeply.
“It does, I have to be alert.” You scoot your chair in. “Akaashi’s gonna have a fit if he see’s this.”
“And why’s that?” Atsumu drawls, but doesn’t wait for you to respond. “‘Cause he’s still in love with ya?” You look away. “Oh so we’re not talking about it.” You groan, and go to rub your eyes before remembering how carefully you’d done your makeup. He puts a hand on your back when you lean forward, and you’re caught off guard by how comforting the touch is, by how your instincts tell you to lean into it.
“I don’t think that he is.” You say quietly. “We were, it was messy. Akaashi hates mess. It makes his head spin.”
“I think you might make his head spin.” He counters, but breezes past it, “Anywho, enough talkin’ to me about all your past lovers,” he boops your nose, “You’re mine now.” He gestures to the name card, and you laugh.
“Fine, fine,” You turn to him, “So what does being Mrs. Atsumu Miya entail?”
“Well first things first,” he snatches a crudite off of a passing waiters tray, “My wife should have breakfast.” He deposits the little toast, smeared with ricotta and a fresh halved cherry tomato.
“Ahh, husband,” you shake your head reproachfully, “I’m lactose intolerant, did you forget?” He places a hand dramatically over his heart.
“How could I, a devastating betrayal. I might as well be fuckin’ the maid.” You sniff haughtily.
“It’s true.” You dig in your purse. “I have a lactaid pill.”
“I got one.” He says, pulling a little tic tac case of pills out of his pocket. “Unless you forgot that I’m also lactose intolerant, which would negate my betrayal.”
“Call it even.” You say, as he hands you a little white papery pill and you take it with the glass of chilled water at your seat. He watches you eat the crudite carefully, trying not to spill anything on your dress or the table.
“You’re a messy eater, huh?” He leans back in his chair.
“Do not make fun of me.” You say, covering your mouth as you speak through the bite you took.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He drawls, looking around nervously. “So uh, anyone suspicious?” You do a quick scan of the room, level setting for odd behavior in high society. The only thing that catches your eye is Kiyoomi’s detached scowl melting away when a little girl in a fluffy pink dress tugs on his pants and asks for an autograph. You watch him smile, albeit a touch stiffly, and sign the napkin for her before patting her head softly, watching her trot back to her family with a wistful smile.
“That’s adorable.” You breathe, and Atsumu follows your gaze.
“Yeah, he’s a big softie under all those dark clouds.” You keep looking though, and it’s hard, the waiters are snaking around the room in complex patterns and everyone here is wearing a mask of some kind, layers of pretense behind every movement. Eventually, you and Atsumu are joined by other guests, but he mercifully does most of the talking for you. The trouble comes when a man with a neatly trimmed beard and sparkling blue eyes speaks.
“So, Miya,” he says, taking a sip of his Mimosa, “How did the two of you meet?”
“Oh through work,” He says, breezing through the social interaction, “But she actually went to college with Bokuto and Akaashi.”
“Really?” The man says, leaning forward. “And what do you do for the team?”
“I’m a consultant.” You jump in. “I have a masters degree in statistics and psychoanalytic marketing.” He blinks at you. “So um, I can watch a game, and um,”
“She actually calculated how trustworthy my gut instinct was.” Atsumu slips a familiar are around your waist. “She’s incredible.” Your face warms at the compliment. “Really,” he turns to you, “You impress me every day.”
“You seem so in love,” the mans wife, you wrack your brain, Vanessa something, Vanessa Fujikawa, that’s right. She looks almost wistful.
“We are.” Atsumu leans in and goes to kiss your cheek and you full on block him with your palm. “Baby,” he coos, teasing, “I’m being nice.”
“You know how I feel about PDA, Atsumu.” You say, matching his tone.
“Y/n,” the man says, leaning forward, his name tag says Taichi Fujikawa, “We’ve been looking to take our team to the next level for the Olympics.” You raise your eyebrows. “I’m a major sponsor to several of the Japanese teams this year. Perhaps you would consider-”
“Stealin’ my wife over breakfast huh?” Atsumu deadpans, taking your hand and bringing it to his chest.
“Of course not,” the man laughs good naturedly.
“I um, I think I report to Kuroo,” you say, trying not to focus on how small your hand feels in his. “So if you want to borrow me from the JVA to support other teams you’ll have to talk to him.” The man nods slowly.
“I will. Though frankly, there’s probably no one I’d want to haggle with less.” You giggle. Breakfast is uneventful for the first course, but alarm bells start ringing in your head when the second course is brought out. Atsumu watches your brow furrow and squeezes your hand under the table, acknowledging that he’s read your face.
“There are,” you lean in and speak very quietly. “New waiters. That one,” you motion to a man with scar on the back of his hand, who is re filling Kuroo’s water. “That one,” there’s a young woman with beautifully dyed red hair. “And that one.” You point to a third waiter, a dragon tattoo on their neck.
“And what does that mean?” He asks and you shrug.
“For now, it’s just data, we can’t interpret it until we have more of it.” You explain, as a steaming omlet is set in front of you. You pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration and Atsumu offers you another pill. “Thank you.” He smiles.
“S’nothin.” You take it with water again and you’ve just swallowed your first bite of the
fluffy omelet in front of you when there’s a scream. You spring to your feet, Hinata has collapsed in his eggs. Your eyes, however, are on the exits, and you see the man with the scar on the back of his hand, tuck his tray behind a table and duck out an exit. You grab Atsumu’s hand, kick off your heels, and take off after him. Atsumu, for his part, never questions you, darting across the ballroom as someone dials 911. In the hallway, you get there with just enough time to see him dart round a corner. Atsumu takes the lead, dragging you along, the pro athlete not even breaking a sweat as he pushes a heavy metal firedoor open and plucks you off your feet, evidently unhappy with you speed, cradling you like a child as the two of you tear after the waiter. He’s got two floors of a head start down the stairwell, but you don’t lose sight of him, and you twist in Atsumu’s arms, leaning up to lock your arms around his neck, and your legs around his waist.
The sound of his footsteps echo down the stairs, and the exit just has time to slam before the he wrenches it open again, watching him run down the ally, around a corner, and disappearing. Atsumu runs after him and then freezes. You hear a gun cock.
“P-put her down.” The waiter says pointing a gun at the two of you, dark and heavy, and
Atsumu sets you on your feet, taking care that your bare feet are standing on his loafers rather than the asphalt. “I, I’m gonna shoot.” He cautions, he’s a young man, with dark hair and crystal blue eyes.
“That’s not necessary.” You find your voice. “Someone paid you, right?” He nods. “Job done, you did it.” You jerk your head to the side. “You’ll get away. But you have to go now.” You point over the fence. “Right now.” A bead of sweat rolls down the side of his face. “You don’t want to shoot us.”
“I wanna shoot him,” he snaps, his voice breaking, “You’re in the way!”
“And I’m not getting out of the way.” You say calmly. “You’ll hear the sirens in a second,
get the hell out of here, and if you want to talk, you can find me.” He stares at you, and you feel Atsumu’s hand grip your waist tightly. “Go, or they’ll catch you.” He nods and leaps over the fence, just as Kuroo rounds the corner. So fast he’s almost a blur, he leaps for the apparent poisoner, succeeding in grabbing his ankle but the man yanks it from his grasp, flying over the fence and disappearing around a corner.
“You’re alright?” Kuroo says, looking you both up and down nervously. The sirens get louder.
“We’re fine,” you answer, twisting up to look at Atsumu. “You didn’t have to pick me up.”
“You didn’t hafta be my human shield,” the blonde looks pissed, all traces of joking gone
from his face.
“What?” The color drains from Kuroo’s face.
“He wasn’t going to shoot,” you protest, “I could tell-”
“He said to get outta the way so he could shoot me, and she didn’t move.” Kuroo’s brow
Furrows at Atsumu’s words.
“Next time,” Kuroo raises a finger, “You do not chase after someone like that.” He looks at Atsumu. “Either of you.”
“Or what?” You step off of Atsumu’s feet onto the cement. Kuroo grins evilly.
“Or I’ll give you a negative performance review.” He says. “You report to me, not
Akaashi. Been a long time since you’ve gotten a bad grade, I’d imagine?” You grind your teeth.
“I can’t believe that got you.” Atsumu mutters. “Gun, no problem, but a bad grade?”
“I have a fucking reputation to uphold,” you snip, reaching for Atsumu, “Take me back to
my shoes.” Kuroo rolls his eyes as the setter scoops you off your feet. “And we need to get to the hospital. Now.”
The waiting room is full of athletes shifting their weight in plastic chairs that they’re too large for. You don’t sit down, pacing and chewing your nails at random intervals.
“Hey,” you feel a large hand on the small of your back. “Sit down, alright, there was
Nothin you could have done to prevent this, and the doctors said he’d be fine.” You shake your head, looking up at the setter.
“How did you know that was what I was thinking?” You whisper and he gives you a weak smile.
“It’s what I woulda been thinking.” He confesses with a shrug. The double doors behind
Him burst open, and Akaashi bursts into the room, making a beeline for you, observing first Atsumu’s hand on your back, and then your comforted expression. He takes you by the arm and pulls you away from the setter.
“Are you alright?” He says, “I heard you chased after the-”
“I’m fine.” You cut him off, yanking your arm from his grasp. He steps back, like he’s just
Remembered you don’t belong to him anymore. “Don’t,” you glance down at where he touched you, “If you could, not,”
“I get it.” He says, clearing his throat. “Sorry.” Kuroo, who observed the interaction with interest, strides over.
“Ah, Akaashi, he’s stable for now, we’re waiting for an update. It appears he got a dose of GHB meant for someone much larger.” Akaashi groans. You’re about to speak, when your phone vibrates and you dig it out. It’s a blocked number. You, followed by Akaashi, Atsumu and Kuroo, jog to the stairwell, and swipe to answer the phone.
“Hello,” you say softly, praying you’re being overdramatic, praying you’ll hear the tinny voice telling you your cars extended warranty.
“I warned you,” the deep voice says, “To quit looking into this.” You swallow. “You got lucky this time, my man sent the poison to the wrong person. Bench your setter, and your wing spikers. Or I promise, you’ll end up on the bottom floor of this hospital in a body bag.” Your heart starts beating so fast you almost don’t feel your breath quicken. “If you want to live,” the distorted voice says, “None of the MSBY jackals play at the olympics.” The line goes dead, and you almost don’t feel yourself start to hyperventilate, your hands going numb, your world spinning. You take a big gulp of air and Atsumu reaches for you, but Akaashi scowls intercepting.
“She doesn’t like to be touched,” he snaps, “Until she starts breathing normally,” he gets
in your eyeline as the setter scowls. “Hey,” he says softly, “Sit down.” There’s a timbre of authority to his voice as he guides you gently to sit on the stairs. “Tell me about the last book you read.” He says, tone still sharp. “As much as you can remember. The tear spill from your eyes as you reach back in your memory.
“A c-collection of John Muir essays,” your lower lip wobbles and you draw your first breath in a few minutes, “I,” you swallow, gasping again, “He just got to the g-glacier.” Akaashi nods, sitting next to you.
“Can you see the glacier, if you close your eyes?” You close them, and Atsumu and Kuroo watch you take another deep slow breath,
“I can.” You whisper.
“Is it cold?” He asks.
“It is.” You wipe your tears. “You’ve um, you’ve gotten better at this.” He slips an arm around your waist and presses his lips to the top of your head.
“There is nothing,” he says, gravely serious, “I wouldn’t do to keep you safe, alright?” You nod, laughing a little, looking up at the other men.
“Sorry, I um, I have a panic disorder.”
“Of course it’s alright,” Kuroo says quickly. “We can, we can give you privacy.” Atsumu’s scowl deepens, but he lets Kuroo lead him away, leaving you and Akaashi alone in the stairwell. Your ex boyfriend pulls you into his chest.
“Love,” he says softly, “You can quit. We’ll go to the authorities.”
“We have to go to the cops,” you wipe your eyes, “But I won’t quit, I want, I need to know what’s happening here and whose responsible.”
“To save your life I’d bench the whole team.” Akaashi murmurs. “I’d, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” You shudder against him, it feels so familiar, like moments from your past are being healed, wounds closing. “I should have just, just called you like a normal person,” he says, “Instead of pulling you into intrigue.” You laugh bitterly.
“I love intrigue.”
“But you’re in danger now.” He argues, “And it’s my fault, you could be, I don’t know, writing papers that 10 people will read.” You laugh again. “I mean it.” He says, “I would do whatever it takes to keep you safe.” You let out a long breath.
“So what now?”
“Now we file a police report.”
“You look,” Kuroo turns to Atsumu, “Perturbed.” The blonde shrugs his huge shoulders.
“I like her, obviously. I love smart women,” he shrugs, “And I love that she could fall in love with volleyball with me, and that she doesn’t treat me like a celebrity, and you don’t have to be a genius to figure out whatever happened at the end of their relationship was intense and toxic and hard.” Kuroo nods. “But ah,” he touches the back of his neck, “I dunno. She’s an adult, she can do what she wants. S’not my place to protect her.”
“Protect her from what, exactly?” Kuroo asks, cocking his head a little.
“From Akaashi.” Atsumu turns to him, “Listen, at the end of the day, yeah they might have much more in common than we do. But love isn’t about that, right, love is about bein’ there for each other, it’s about mutually achieved happiness, and I can tell, that he indulges the abyss inside her.”
“Indulges the abyss,” Kuroo muses, “That’s an interesting take.” He eyes the setter, “And it sounds like a borrowed phrase, no offense.”
“I’ve been readin’ nietzsche.” Atsumu confesses. “For strategy reasons, but I’ve been trying, trying to look at her and see her happy with him, and I can’t.” He looks over his shoulder at the door they’d just come through.
“What if she doesn’t want to be happy?” Kuroo says quietly, barely audible over the beep of machines and hum of the air conditioner. “Would you give her that choice, are you noble enough to let her destroy herself?” Atsumu blinks at the dark haired man, surprised but Kuroo flashes his palms. “What’s a little speculation between two intellectuals?” His lips curl into the ghost of sneer on the last word.
“I dunno.” Atsumu shoves his hands in his pockets. “I haven’t finished the books yet.”
“There are books? Is nietzsche on her reading list?” Kuroo raises an eyebrow.
“I don’t like that I had a weakness I didn’t notice,” He says gruffly, “Specially when it comes to volleyball. I hate that shit. I’m readin’ the papers she’d published, but she’s referencin’ things I dont have any context for.” Kuroo nods slowly.
“Because you skipped college and went pro, right?”
“It was the right choice,” Atsumu says, a touch defensively, and Kuroo files away that little vulnerability, for use in the future, “With the money we saved, plus my signing bonus we were able to give ‘Samu a real boost, and now he’s the family businessman. I’m really fuckin’ proud of him.”
“I didn’t say anything.” Kuroo shrugs. “But, if I’m understanding, you’d like to win her, and you’re worried you speak two different languages?”
“I’d teach her mine too.” There’s a soft genuine smile on his face. “She could do with trustin’ that gut of hers more often, yanno?” Kuroo inhales sharply.
“Ah that I do. That I do.” He shrugs. “The questions stands though, are you noble enough to let her choose misery? Provided of course, that is what Akaashi’s offering, which, frankly I’m not sure is the case, even if he indulges the darker more introspective portions of her personality.”
Akaashi pulls you to your feet, noting how you’ve stopped shying away from his touch. You move so quickly at first he thinks you’ve stumbled, but then he realizes you’re hugging him, and he returns the ardor, giving you a soft gentle, shhhhhh.
“Kei,” you mumble and that nickname, in your hushed voice, nearly knocks him off his feet, “I’m scared but,” you lift your head to meet his dark eyes, “I really wanna figure this out.” The smallest smile flits across his lips, and he sees it, if this were a novel, it would be the start of a grand romance, it would mean stakeouts, and sneaking around, he can see himself covering your mouth with his hand before you blurt out something to the wrong person, he can see the look on your face as something dawns on you, remembering how apt he thought that phrase was for your mental acuity. He’d told you once, when you were studying in college, in the golden light of the afternoon.
“I love the look on your face when you figure something out.” He’d blurted, even though you were in the quietest section of the library, akin to sacrilege him. You’d lifted your head from your textbook.
“I love the look on your face when you solve a problem, or something clicks,” he says, leaning forward, the chair he’s in creaks a little. “I feel like, I feel like I understand why people say it dawned on them.” He pauses. “Because you just, light up.” There’s an awkward silence.
“Ah,” you press your lips together, “Big L word, huh?” He blinks at you, the phrase had tumbled from his lips unbidden, but he plays it off, even with fear broiling in his abdomen.
“Yeah,” he smiles, “Yeah I love it.”
“Then we will.” He says, as if it’s that simple. “Then we will.” He leads you back to the waiting room, and you sit with the rest of the team, in between Akaashi and Atsumu. Kuroo paces in front of you until a doctor confirms Hinata will be alright, then the lanky man collapses in a plastic seat that’s much too small for him. Akaashi stands immediately, reaching for his coat.
“I’m going to take her to file a police report.” He says, holding a hand out to you. Atsumu watches you consider carefully before taking it, letting him pull you to your feet. “The two of you should come, since you were witnesses to the phone call.”
“Alright,” Kuroo grunts, standing.
“Can I steal ya,” Atsumu says, impulsively, touching your arm. “Before we go.” You shrug and nod quickly, letting him lead you out into the hallway. He looks sheepish. “Sorry for uh, for pickin’ you up without your permission.” He touches the back of his neck. “I just wanted to catch the guy.” You look up at him surprised.
“Oh, it’s alright,” there’s a hint of a genuine smile on your lips. “I didn’t mind,” your brow furrows, reaching for the right words, your next sentence has to be perfect, “You’re very ah, warm. I didn’t mind at all.” He seems to understand, lips twitching into almost a smirk.
“I see.” He punches your shoulder. “Ya didn’t mind.”
“No.” You say, more brightly. “I didn’t.”
“Lemme make you an offer,” He says, leaning against the hospital wall. “Dinner, tonight, my place, topics of conversation that are off limits, your ex, poison, and work.” You nod slowly.
“Anything for my beautiful wife,” he says, pushing his luck but he’s treated to your musical giggle rather than trademark scowl and his whole chest warms.
“Out of curiosity,” You cock your head, “What’s that prenup like?” He puts a hand over his heart, feigning a fatal wound.
“She wants me for my money, oh, how will I recover?” He says, and you laugh again, it’s bright and little explosive, and it draws Akaashi to poke his head out into the hallway.
“Excuse me.” He says, “Time is of the essence.” You nod.
“Let’s go.” You follow Akaashi so quickly Atsumu almost forgets you didn’t tell him the condition for dinner. He watches the way Akaashi touches the small of your back casually, and you stiffen. He keeps dinner to himself.
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝟑𝐚𝐦
pairing. miya atsumu x f!reader
warnings // disclaimers. swearing, uh, making out
notes. i desire fluff and i haven't written atsumu in ages and i gotta practice writing shorter things so have me and my beloved cliche tropes
Y/L/N Y/N WOULD'VE LIKED TO have said that she wasn't awake at 2:37 am, but she was, and she greatly spited herself for it. Not that her current state of insomnia was exactly her fault. It was just one of those nights where one was inexplicably played by the real world, unable to close their eyes, stuck awake, out of a dream.
Before she could spiral further into those thoughts, a knock at her door almost shocked Y/N out of her skin. She slipped out of bed (she hadn't been asleep anyway, what was the point in pretending to be?), only taking a moment to adjust her oversized shirt-slash-pyjamas before swinging open the door.
"Why am I not surprised?" were the first words out of her mouth, as she closed her eyes and sighed.
Her boyfriend was still there when she opened them again, leaning against her doorframe with folded arms and an insufferable smirk that she hated herself for finding attractive. "And here I thought you'd be glad to see me, babe."
"Miya Atsumu," Y/N sighed. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"
"2:38 am," he answered without missing a beat. "Trust me, this is gonna be fun."
For some reason, she couldn't stop either her smile or her curiosity from spreading. "And what, pray tell, is 'this' gonna be, babe?"
"I'm glad you asked," he grinned, grabbing her hand and hauling her from her room, giving her only enough time to shut the door behind her.
Technically, it wasn't her room - she was staying at the Miya residence for a few days whilst her own home was being renovated, and thus 'her' room was actually their spare bedroom, but since she'd been dating Atsumu for over a year, it was as good as hers.
Y/N realised in a second where he was taking her - the kitchen - though it didn't exactly explain what they were doing. Their bare feet slapped just slightly on the tiles as they came to the actual kitchen area, Atsumu giggling quietly under his breath.
"Okay, Tsum, what are we doing?" Attempting to be serious and imposing, Y/N propped her hands on her hips, though she just succeeded in making herself start to giggle as well.
"Look what I found a couple minutes ago," her boyfriend responded instead, showing her his phone, clasped in the hand that wasn't holding hers.
She squinted at the screen, "... ghost cupcakes? Oh, fuck no, don't tell me you want to-"
"Yep!" he grinned widely, dropping her hand to scroll through the procedure. "We have everything, so it should be fun and easy."
Y/N inhaled deeply. "Atsumu. Tsum. Tsumie. I love you, but this is ridiculous. It isn't even 3 yet!"
"It will be by the time we're done," he winked, making her groan loudly. "Come on, Y/N, please? For me?"
When she met Atsumu's golden eyes again, she had to let out a long sigh, knowing she could never say no to her beloved boyfriend. And that was the worst part. "Well ... it is technically Halloween, isn't it?"
He laughed in victory, knowing how to spot acceptance when he saw it. "Yes, it is. You in?"
"I guess so," she grumbled, pretending that she wasn't smiling and just a little excited by this clandestine baking endeavour. "Okay, read out the ingredients, lets get everything ready first."
They got out all the components quickly enough, though Y/N was already having second thoughts when she realised they needed an electric mixer for the icing. The thought of Atsumu's mother, the lovingly dubbed 'Mama Miya', waking up and cracking the shits at them for using an electric kitchen appliance at 3 in the morning wasn't exactly on her list of top ten Halloween events.
"Okay," she whispered. "Grab me the butter, dry ingredients first."
Working together, they managed to follow the recipe to the letter (mostly thanks to the power of Y/N's 'absolutely not' glare when Atsumu began to eye the flour like it was a registered weapon), with the occasional sweet cheek-kisses between steps.
Even after months, they still hadn't lost their endearing love towards each other, despite the many people who's insisted that a high school relationship wouldn't last.
"Look at us go, babe," Atsumu grinned proudly as they slid their tray of cupcakes into the oven. "That only took, like, twenty minutes."
Y/N did experience a flicker a pride, though she only showed it through a small curve of her lips (even though he could see straight through that). "Yeah. All that's left is ... the icing."
He referred back to their recipe. "Oh, easy - it's just sugar and butter and a bit of vanilla essence. The black parts we use letter icing for, which we've got in the pantry."
She nodded in understanding, retrieving the final ingredients ... and the dread electric mixer. Swallowing a sudden nervousness in her throat, she weighed out the sugar, butter, and vanilla essence into a bowl, wincing in hesitation before thinking fuck it and thrusting the mixer into the bowl.
Y/N barely stopped herself from screeching and waking up Osamu and Mama Miya as she miscalculated and beat the icing mixture at entirely the wrong angle.
Though she managed to wrangle it into a fluffy icing, she accidentally ended up splattering both in the white mess, it going all over her face and the shocked-into-silence Atsumu's blond hair. Trying her hardest not to giggle, she choked out an apology, but halted when her boyfriend turned to her with an unreadable look in his eyes.
"You've got icing, right there."
With warning, Atsumu grabbed Y/N's face in his hands, pulling her forwards to slam his mouth on hers. She almost collapsed, saved by one of his muscular arms wrapping around her back, his tongue swiping over her lips, in her mouth, collecting all the icing he could reach, and then drawing back with a smug smirk, leaving her to flush and stutter.
"Jerk," she finally managed to get out, when her heart had slowed from its supersonic pace.
"Yeah, your jerk, your problem," he grinned, scrunching his nose in his cute way. "Now, let's ice those cupcakes, hmm?"
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can’t stop thinking about atsumu merlin au. prince atsumu who’s lived in a golden palace all his life, learning to be a warrior and training to fight for his kingdom. there’s never been a need for him to have a close connection with anyone other than his brother, the only one who knows the kindhearted prince behind the mask of a stone-faced king-to-be. eventually, his mother assigns him a servant, much to atsumu’s dismay.
he’s bratty for the first few weeks; making you fetch food he doesn’t plan to eat in the middle of the night, fidgeting when you try to dress him. he’s frustrating, making you want to go to the queen and beg on your knees to be assigned to his much nicer twin. one night after having a nightmare, he calls you up to his chambers (osamu was on a hunting trip and his mother would call him weak for asking for help). shaking, the prince wraps his arms around you and buries his face in your neck, muttering small apologies onto your skin. he doesn’t remember going back to bed, but atsumu wakes up tangled in your arms with the sunlight illuminating your sleeping figure.
since that night, he’s quieter, more thoughtful when it comes to you. the only reason he calls for you at night is to timidly ask you to run your hands through his hair, and he yearns for the softness of your touch during the day. he learns vulnerability isn’t something to be ashamed of, with your gentle hands and kinder words. he learns to listen to others and takes your opinion into account when making decisions for the kingdom. when you prepare his bed at night and before you ask if there’s anything else he needs, atsumu gently takes your hands in his and feels the callouses formed on your palms from months of hard work. he kisses each fingertip, quietly promising to never let you work a day of your life when he becomes king.
copyright © 2021 by @belsumu. do not steal, edit, repost, translate, or claim as yours.
m.lists | rules | taglist
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— young love
notes: fluff, miya atsumu x gn!reader, drabble
a/n: enjoy a simp atsumu bcs yea, i said so.
m.list | reblogs are appreciated <3
For once, Atsumu was desperate.
Why, you may ask? Well, because he didn't think you'd be the first one to...steal his heart, if we want to put it in familiar terms.
You were the only one to catch his attention, that day, in the library.
And it might seem funny to imagine Atsumu anywhere else but in a volleyball court (in a library, at last) but he was really immersed in his school work. He wasn't thinking about how annoying his twin brother is, or how he wished he'd be able to play volleyball without breaking a sweat. His mind was blank.
But then, as cliché as it might seem, he found himself hooked in your eyes.
He gulped, shaking his head, and trying as hard as he could not to think about you.
But as you sat across from him, a couple of textbooks in front of you, as well as your computer, he wondered - for the very first time in his life - how could a person be so...beautiful.
You seemed immersed in whatever you were reading, concentrated with furrowed eyebrows and a funny expression adorning your face.
The corner of Atsumu's mouth slightly lifted upwards, but he didn’t notice, too immersed in the action of...admiring you.
And, although a voice hidden in the recesses of his mind yelled at him for being so stupid, he didn't want to ignore this feeling that was slowly blooming into his heart.
And as days passed, Atsumu would spend the two hours before practice at the library, while building the courage to talk to you.
"Hey..uh, I'm Atsumu Miya, it's nice to meet you. You know, I'm part of the MSBY and I play as-" he started mumbling, cheeks flushing and he mentally insulted himself. No one's ever seen Atsumu so lost, not even Osamu.
"Yeah, I know. You're the setter, right? I watch your matches sometimes," you said, holding in a laugh that wouldn't be optimal in that situation.
And as he listened to your soothing voice, he felt a swarm of butterflies dance in his stomach - no, in his entire body.
"And, could I know your name…?"
"I'm [name]. [name] [last/n], nice to meet you," you warmly smiled, your eyes closing a bit as your heartbeat quickened a bit. You extended a hand in front of you as he looked at it, before gently shaking it. His hands were rough against yours, you thought perhaps it was because of his constant playing.
You surely weren’t expecting your favourite player to come up and talk to you. And not even in a library.
"I didn't think you were the kind to spend hours on books before their matches, Atsumu" something about his name, as it escaped your lips, only made his heart flutter more.
I'm not, I never was, I'm just here beacuse…he interrupted the train of his thoughts. He didn't like were it was going, definitely not.
"Yeah, well...I gotta keep my grades high if I still want to play volleyball, I guess," he faked a cough to partially hide his embarassement. You chuckled, leaving him mesmerized by the sweet sound of your voice. I want to hear it again.
"Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Atsumu. I have a meeting in a few minutes, don't wanna miss it. Bye!" you waved your hand at him and, after picking up your things, you darted from the library, heart running laps, while leaving a confused heart and mind...that belonged to none other than Atsumu.
"What's happening to me…" he whispered, looking at the palm of his hand and remjniscing the softness of yours as you tightened the hold.
He groaned and left the library, the old librarian who assisted to the whole scene, smiling to herself. "Oh, young love."
© akaakeijii / do not plagiarize, reblogs are very appreciated <3
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in dnd atsumu plays a bard that tries to fuck everyone but he fails every skill check so its just him constantly getting shot down
until one day he propositions sakusa's character & miraculously gets a perfect 20
sakusa still gets pissed about it
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previous | masterlist | next
a/n: aha writes funny little love story while being in a major depressive episode
TAGLIST - OPEN
@stargazingwin @halcyondaisy @oopskashish @its-the-aerieljeane @pagkaiin @sanelly @alexialuvsya @bakugouswh0r3 @rintarovibes @lovely-maryj @rietvellld @kuroohoeee @jojowantstocry @tagakalat @encrytpta @inarizsunarin @stormcastello @uselesssapphickitten @cuteissei @iamapotat @icedberrytea @stffychn @diestheticu @makis-lover @hazzaloveschopsuey @ttunafish
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Atsumu: Hey Kita-san, can you carry my bag?
Kita: No, why? and even if I wanted to, I can’t see it. There is no bag
Atsumu: It’s just my emotional luggage. No need to get angry
Kita: I’m getting you a therapist
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very funny to me that the majority of us agree atsumu is the one who dresses nice and sakusas the one that walks out to go to the store in like pajama pants a sweatshirt and like socks and sandals
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MSBY & "PERIOD CRAMP SIMULATOR"
Yeah feel my pain bby ❤
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*Atsumu is cooking*
Aran: Any chance that’s for me?
Atsumu: It’s for Osamu. I’m planning on making some bad choices tonight, and I need him on my side.
Suna: I never realized the forethought that went into being a disappointment.
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Could you write something about how y/n is her comfy clothes and the haikyuu boys comes home drunk one night say says something about her appearance? And then he tries to make it up ofc
I love hurt/comfort hehe I don’t mind who you write about but my fav is iwa 🙏🏼🙏🏼
THEY COME HOME DRUNK AND MAKE AN OFFHAND COMMENT ON YOUR APPEARANCE
characters: timeskip!atsumu + kageyama + iwaizumi + (gn!reader)
notes: i made it so that the comment just came out wrong but wasn't intended to be bad!
part one / part two / part three
atsumu groaned as he stumbled into your home with the help of his brother. you amusedly made your way to the front of the house from your bedroom as you heard the two of them bickering as usual.
"hey guys," both heads turned to you and you focused on osamu, "thanks for bringing him home."
he waved you off, "don't worry about it. this dumbass would probably be headfirst in a dumpster somewhere if i didn't."
you laughed and looked over to the "dumbass," your brows furrowing in confusion as he looked at you with an annoyed expression on his face.
"jesus christ, y/n."
you and osamu both paused. "...what?"
"are you kidding me?" before you could ask what was happening, he went on. "y'knew i was coming home and you look like that?"
your lips parted but no sound came out.
osamu slapped the back of his brothers head, the faux-blond turning to look at him, confused and irritated. "ow?!"
"what's wrong with you, you idiot?!"
atsumu stood up straight, suddenly realizing that his brother was there as well. he turned back to you, "and samu is here too! y/n go put a bag over your face or something!" he shoved his brother in the direction of the door. "you gotta go man!"
you were still standing there, watching the scene unfold, unbelievably hurt and in disbelief.
"why are you being such an ass, dipshit?!"
the brothers were arguing once more and you were honestly starting to tune them out when you heard atsumu's next words.
"because y/n looks too good right now! you can't be here! only i get to see em like that!"
all three of you paused and you looked up, the dark cloud suddenly clearing above your head. you sighed, "you really are something else tsumu."
he turned his head to look at you and whined your name, "y/nnn you need to hide your face!"
you smiled and osamu rolled his eyes. "i have the world's biggest dumbass as my brother."
you laughed and took atsumu's hand in yours, feeling something burst in your chest when he immediately turned to face you, his eyes tracing every detail on your face in awe. "i think i got it from here samu."
you stepped forward and opened the door, letting osamu walk through. just as he turned around and made eye contact with you to say bye, a hand suddenly covered your face and the door shut closed.
you pulled the hand off to find atsumu pouting at you sheepishly before he pulled you in his arms. "mine."
you let out a breath of laughter, nodding. "yours."
kageyama walked into your shared apartment, seemingly normal. but you could tell by the blush on his cheeks, the glaze in his eyes and the way he stumbled ever so slightly as he kicked his shoes off that he was drunk.
you smiled to yourself as you watched him from the couch, turning down the volume. "seems like someone had a good night."
he looked up with wide eyes at the sound of your voice, only now noticing you were in the room. "yeah we drank––and it was good." he walked over to you, taking his time, making sure not to bump into anything on the way.
when he reached the couch he looked at you and tilted his head before blinking owlishly a few times.
you paused and blinked back. "...yes?"
he opened his mouth and stared for a bit before speaking up. "why?"
you bit back a laugh. "...why what?"
"why...do you look like that?" his face morphed into an almost offended expression and your smile dropped. he sat down next to you and you shifted, suddenly more tense, your stomach tight.
"what do you mean?" you knew that people sprouted nonsense when they were drunk but there was also the fact that there was some truth in what they babbled. did he have a problem with the way you looked? something he was too afraid to say sober?
you braced yourself for his response as he slowly tried to stutter his reply, starting and restarting his sentence, a strong furrow between his brows.
"you look––i just don't––" he paused to hiccup and you could only feel yourself getting more anxious with each delay.
you crossed your arms and frowned but he didn't seem to notice.
"why do you look...so––" he paused and licked his lips, suddenly realizing how dry his mouth was.
but you were getting impatient at this point. "so what, tobio?"
he turned to face you fully and leaned his head on the couch cushion. "so...good." your breath hitched in surprise but he went on after a heavy sigh. "s'not fair..." his eyelids were getting much heavier with each passing second and each blink was longer and slower than the last. his words started to slur more, now coming out it mumbles. "y'always make me feel all warm and...tingly inside––just with your face." his eyes scanned over your face as he spoke and you could feel your cheeks heat up.
your lips curved into a smile again and he smiled back. "that smile always gets me too."
before you could think of a response, he plopped his head in your lap. "can you play with my hair?"
as soon as your hand pushed back the hair from his forehead, he closed his eyes and leaned into your touch, a sated smile slowly spreading onto his lips as you ran your fingers through the strands. "really like it when you do that."
"you're really honest when you're drunk, aren't you? even more so than usual," you let out a breath of laughter, "didn't even think that was possible."
he hummed and opened one eye, "s'that bad?"
you smiled, "not at all."
iwaizumi was glaring at you, there was no other way to describe it. his brows were furrowed, and sure he had a pout on his face that made him look adorable––but that fiery look in his eyes? that was a glare, for sure.
you handed him the glass of water you'd gone to get from the kitchen and he took it, eyes still on you. "thank you." his words were clipped and quite honestly his whole attitude was confusing you.
"uh you're welcome?" you tried to brush it off and went to fetch him his sweats that he liked to sleep in. you could feel his gaze glued to your back and when you placed the pajamas on the bed, only to find that same look on his face as he placed the glass on his bedside table blindly, you sighed and crossed your arms.
"okay what is it? what's wrong?" you leaned on one heel and tilted your head at him. "did oikawa do something?"
he raised a brow, "who?"
you rolled your eyes. "shittykawa."
"oh." he blinked and his face returned back to its scowl. "no."
"well then what is it?"
he stared at you for a few more seconds before taking a deep breath. "your face."
you almost took a step back, completely offended. "what about it?"
"it pisses me off."
your eyes widened in disbelief and you stood up straight, not even sure what to do with yourself. "oh really?"
was this really how he felt? for how long?
you put your tongue in your cheek and nodded as well, ready to leave the room before you burst out into tears when he spoke up again.
"you're so beautiful it fucking pisses me off." he sighed and lied down, letting his eyes close. "no one should be allowed to look that good."
you stood there for a moment, a new type of disbelief coursing through your veins, a fluttering feeling in your chest. you scoffed and shook your head, a smile on your face. "you're one to talk, haji."
he opened one eye and looked at you, "wha's that supposed to mean?"
you looked at him fondly, leaning down to kiss his forehead and play with his hair. "you're more beautiful than you think, babe."
a flush rose to his cheeks and he sputtered a bit, looking away, but still leaning into your touch. "wha–shut up––dumbass."
LEAVE A TIP <3 (if you’d like)
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10/05 🦊🦊 Happy birthday Miya Atsumu & Miya Osamu ☆.。.:*・
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Jax my sweetie! Haven’t you heard? It’s sundress and no panties season!! Who do you think would feel their s/o’s up while they’re out having a cute picnic in the park?
ohh,, the list for this is long...
› bokuto, meian, atsumu, oikawa, hinata-
unashamedly wanders his heavy hand down to your ass- fingers playing with the cute little sundress you're wearing, smiles at you when you squeak and try to pry his thick hands from your form. you don't want to flash the people walking behind the two of you, but wearing a pretty little number like that, for him- has him insatiable. doesn't take long for him to take you further away from wandering eyes and fucking you against a tree, one hand holding onto your face so you don't go bumping it against the tree and the other laying against the curve of your spine, sundress bunched up and used as leverage to bring you back onto his thick cock over and over, watching your pretty, shaking hands press helplessly on the tree to get more, more, more. knees knocking against one another while you’re nearly suspended with each thrust- so pretty and desperate, all spurred on by the sight of you in a simple little dress.
› aone, aran, suna, osamu, kageyama-
can't really articulate what it does to him seeing you in something so pretty, fitting for the hot temperatures while you're sitting outside- happily sipping on cold drinks in the shade. he doesn’t even know you’ve opted for no panties, not until you uncross your legs and reach over for more food- and he slowly feels his world tilt on its axis. it takes no time for him to reach over the food, knocking things out of the way in order to land his hands on you- tugging your body closer, fingers digging into the softness of your body, letting himself tug and pinch and grab at the dress you’ve adorned yourself in. asking you with little humor, ‘what were you thinking, hm?’ before flipping your body over and sliding a thick and heavy cock into your cunt- the same one he caught glimpses of mere seconds ago- puts your body into a pretty little arch, both hands on your ass, grabbing and pushing you down at the same time so he can see his monstrous cock slide in and out of you. mewls and cries coming from your muffled mouth already drooling onto the picnic blanket only spurring him on.
› iwaizumi, ushijima, gao, kyoutani-
doesn't even let you walk out the door- fucks you on the floor of your living room. lets swung up over his shoulders so he can see your body jiggle underneath the dress slowly hitching up your tummy with the way he’s fucked you into a mating press, dead set on cumming inside your tight little cunt so he can see every load run down your legs when he finally does let you walk out of the house. he’s not even undressed, cock tugged out of the waistband of his pants- letting you cream and make a mess of his own clothes with every thrust that meets your wet cunt, chuckling once he’s finally spent after furiously fucking you down onto the floor- small little apologies for ‘acting like an animal’ that are just empty words and its not like you mind- too fucked out and shaking to care.
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when atsumu catches the camera on him
all works belong to @kiyoo-omi do not repost without permission
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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..
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.
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.
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galas aren't really atsumu's thing.
he sees them more as work events than actual parties, and as much as he'd actually prefer to skip them, it is technically part of his job to attend with the team.
that's how he finds himself here.
standing in the middle of men in suits, sipping on fancy champagne and passing around tiny hors d'oeurves, when all he wants to do right now, more than anything in the world, is to go home to his warm and comfortable bed.
but, as luck would have it, in the midst of it all, he sees you, alone in a corner as you observe everyone else from a far distance.
and atsumu has a strong feeling, the night is going to get better.
"hey, you." he smiles, seeing you look up at him the second you hear his voice, and when you put away your phone to give more focus to him, he can’t help but smile wider.
miya atsumu is the bachelor of the evening.
his blond hair neatly gelled as his fringe falls gently to the side, his black tux fitting him perfectly with the exception of his unbuttoned cuff links, and finally, like a cherry on top, his sticker name tag placed directly on the middle of his chest.
and instead of his name on it, it reads “the hottest msby jackals player ever!!” in big, permanent black ink.
your eyes crinkle, shoulders rising lightly as you laugh, "you look like you’re having fun."
"nah." atsumu shakes his head, "feels stuffy in here with all the suits."
and you tease, "scared the other guys might show off better than you?"
and he looks at you, rolling his eyes, but the stark grin on his lips doesn’t waver.
fifty minutes into the gala and he was ready to leave and quit his job then and there, but two minutes with you, and he’s ready to attend a thousand more of these in the future.
"you look good tonight." atsumu tells you, his eyes focused exactly on how you’d react.
“thanks,” you wave him off, laughing like you think he isn’t serious, "you look okay, i guess."
"hey!" he frowns, patting the sticker on his chest harshly, "read the name tag."
"the hottest player in msby, huh?" you tease, shaking your head in faux annoyance.
"notice how i put “player”, so you can also technically be considered the hottest in the team too." he nods, looking very proudly at you as he explains it, and he taps the sticker on his chest again.
you tilt your head, "that’s very considerate?"
and he grins, "it’s accurate too."
the evening has been going on for a while, so it’s really hard to tell whether the people inside are having genuine fun or way too drunk to even recognize what actual music is.
but as atsumu stands in front of you, in your own little corner in the big event hall, you can’t tell if the red in his face is from the alcohol or from something completely other than that.
"miya atsumu." you smile, eyes crinkling, "are you flirting with me?"
and you mean that in a teasing way, your shoulders rising a bit as you laugh, and you take another sip of your drink as you watch him watch you.
"i have been for the past two years." he nods, his smile relaxed, and he laughs, "i was worried you were never gonna notice."
you shake your head, "well, maybe you’re just bad at it."
and in full atsumu fashion, he clutches his heart harshly, fakely falling onto one knee, and yelling, "ouch!" as he looks at you with a deep frown.
you’d call him an idiot, but you have a feeling he already knows you’d say that — so you let him have his fun, letting him grab onto your hand to lift him back up.
"what’re you doing here, atsumu?" you raise a brow.
he hums, "hm?"
"why are you here in this corner with me?" you ask, pointing slightly to the space around you.
he tilts his head, unsure of what you mean.
and you shrug, "like, shouldn’t you be out there with everyone else drinking and mingling?"
and atsumu laughs, "i am drinking and mingling."
"not with me." you roll your eyes, pushing his shoulder back lightly as he continues to laugh.
"i like…" he starts, and he looks to the wall, then back to you, and he’s suddenly very aware that he’s unsure of what to say.
so he says instead, "talking — to you — i like talking to you."
and it’s stupid, but his ears are pink, and his hands feel clammy and nervous — but you smile anyways, and you tell him you like talking to him too — and suddenly his ears turn from a light pink to a deep red that slightly reaches his nose.
you pat him on the shoulder.
"i have to do my rounds." you tell him, getting ready to leave as you put your glass of champagne down, "gotta check on everyone on the team."
"check on me?" atsumu grins.
you wave him off, laughing, "i think i just did."
and that would’ve been the end of it — you walking away from him as you go ahead to check on the rest of his team and him eventually asking bokuto for a ride home.
but there’s something about seeing you walk away from him that sets him on edge, and maybe it’s the alcohol, or the fact that the two of you have been so friendly tonight, but he’d really hate himself in the morning if he doesn’t at least try to make you stay.
"hey!" he calls out, biting his tongue as soon as he does, but when you turn around to face him again, the look on your face almost as curious as his, he finds it really hard to regret stopping you.
you tilt your head, “yeah, tsumu?”
he’s pink in the face, he puts his hand behind his neck, “i know yer probably gonna be busy but…”
and he hesitates, but not because he doesn’t know what to say, he knows very well what to say, he’s been practicing what to say and how to say it in the bathroom mirror every morning for months now — but right now, as you stand in front of him, waiting for him to speak, he’s suddenly at a loss for words.
the pink in his skin turns to red.
you blink, smiling, “atsumu?”
“ah fuck — i’m just gonna say it,” he laughs, almost a bit too randomly, and he says this more to himself than to you.
there’s a second stuck in the air.
and atsumu looks at you, "wanna go for some coffee after this?"
( what he really wanted to say was “do you wanna go on a date with me?” but hey, he’s nervous and he’s flustered, and the coffee thing was the easiest way to ask you out without him wanting to run in a marathon. )
"okay." you smile, nodding lightly.
"okay?" he quips a brow, and then he nods, mirroring your actions as he repeats, "okay!"
atsumu’s smile reaches his eyes, his shoulders rising with his chest as he laughs, and he looks at you diligently, repeating over and over again the word ‘okay!’
"you’re an idiot." you roll your eyes, shaking your head as you laugh, and you turn back on your heels to walk away.
atsumu calls out to you as you go, "well, you’re the one getting coffee with an idiot!"
and just as easily as how he found you earlier in the evening, you’re lost in the crowd again, but this time, atsumu isn’t feeling so cheap and bored with the party.
he walks around, the glass in his hand empty but he’s been refusing to refill it to keep himself sober for later.
a wide smile not once leaving his face, a slight skip in his steps.
"hey," hinata nudges him on the side, taking his attention as he stops to stand with him in a quiet corner, and he beams, "you look happy."
atsumu shrugs, the remnants of his conversation with you still stuck in his mind, and he smiles wider, "it’s a good party."
bokuto looks at hinata, narrowing his eyes slightly in suspicion as he knows well enough that this gala tonight is definitely far from a good party.
"is he drunk?" he frowns, and he turns to atsumu, shaking him lightly, "tsumu, are you drunk?"
he shakes his head.
and hinata chimes, "you want us to take you home?"
an hour ago, coming home sounded like the greatest idea there could be — but now — well, now he has you to look forward to.
"no, stop," atsumu shakes his head, waving both of his friends away as he fixes the way he stands, "i’m not drunk, i’m fine."
and he follows, with a big grin on, "and i'm not riding with you guys tonight."
bokuto and hinata share a look.
and hinata frowns, "cause you know if you are drunk, you’re gonna have to tell us so we can drive you home. you’re already a bad driver when you’re not full of alcohol, who knows how many laws you’ll break when you are drunk–"
but at some point in hinata's words, atsumu spaces out, waving his friend's voice off with a worry as he spots you again in the endless crowd.
it's been a very long time since atsumu's met you, but it really does feel like it was only yesterday when he mustered up the courage to admit to himself that maybe ... in a blue moon ... he's actually fallen in love with you.
he hates this dumb gala - it’s an annoying work event - he had all intentions of skipping, but somehow, somewhere along the lines of realizing you were attending and it meaning he'd get to spend some time with you, he found himself actually being excited for it.
under the yellow lights, with the music in the background and murmurs and chatter from the crowd, it's easy to lose focus in a party like this - but atsumu sees you well and clear.
the smile he doesn't even realize forming reaches his eyes, crinkling just a tiny bit as he finds himself liking looking at you.
"tsumu?" bokuto lightly shakes him, "you listening, buddy?"
"yeah." atsumu shakes his head, pulling himself back to reality and into the conversation, a silly smile on his face as he turns pink, "sorry, i - yeah."
and bokuto looks at him quizzically, "are you sure you're not drunk?"
from afar, atsumu's gaze shifts back to you, watching you intently as he finally notices that you aren't exactly by yourself.
by your side, clumsily standing over you, sakusa blinks heavily, his glass of expensive wine in your hands as he's obviously drank himself into a stupor, and the situation is pretty clear.
it's an innocent encounter - probably.
but it has atsumu's smile dropping when he sees how sakusa looks at you, because even drunk, sakusa really can't hide how much he likes you.
your arm links with sakusa's as you take his keys from him, and carefully, you guide him to walk with you, keeping him close and safe, and atsumu wonders if you'd ever do that for him too.
his chest feels heavy but just like earlier, he really can't bring himself to look away from you.
hinata taps on his shoulder, "you okay?"
and he blinks, and suddenly he's back to where he was again.
atsumu smiles, sighing shyly as he feels embarrassed more than anything else.
the evening is over, but his chest feels so much heavier.
"i think i may need a ride home after all."
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MSBY & ADLERS GETTING SOME HEADPATS
Bestest bois getting bestest headpats ❤
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