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houseoftulips · 11 months

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Overstimulated | HQ Men ~ the one where you just needed littleeee bit of space

─➭ hq men x fem!reader: atsumu miya, bokuto kotaro

─➭ mentions of: overestimation (not nsfw), reader is just irritated and tired, no hard feelings, fluff, comfort (?)

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Atsumu Miya

You had a longer day than you anticipated, thus sparked a little irritation. You were called into work 30 minutes earlier than usual because some higher up decided they wanted to see your presentation earlier than planned so you rushed to get ready for work and didn't look as professional than usual.

Then you forgot your lunch and your boyfriend was already at work and couldn't bring it to you. So you were hangry all day and small things just kept building up. When you came home you were ready to finally be away from people and decompress, your boyfriend (who shows his feelings physically) thought that's what you needed.

"Atsumu, please," you said firmly as you turned around to face him. You had such a irritated look on your face that Atsumu almost cried on the spot. "Give me some freaking space."

Poor baby was just trying to hold you from behind since he hadn't seen you all day. And he’s well aware that he can be annoying but he's never seen you look at him like that. He'd think you'd look cute with your nostrils flared up but you kinda scared him a bit. So he gave you what you asked for with a little pout on his face and stepped aside to let you walk out of the kitchen into your shared bedroom.

You let out a frustrating huff as you close the door to take a much needed bath. Had you just realized that you snapped at ‘tsumu? Yes. Are you gonna apologize? Of course…but after the bath. You need to calm down for a bit after all that.

Atsumu heard you turn on the faucet in the bathtub so he knew you were going to take a while but he has matured enough to understand that you needed the space. And he remembered the texts you sent venting to him about what’s happening.

He orders for pickup from your favorite spot just around the corner from your building and set some pj’s for you since he noticed you forgot to grab some and left it on the bed before leaving to get the food.

About 20 or so minutes later, you felt so much better. With how overwhelming you felt all day, you never got the chance to just slow down for a second. You grabbed your towel resting on the toilet cover as you get up from the tub. You wrap it around yourself then drained the water. You do your regular skincare routine and left the bathroom to see a pair of sleep shorts and atsumu’s t-shirt.

You let out an appreciative smile before drying off and putting the clothes on. Once you finished you walked out of the room to go find ‘tsumu and apologize but he wasn’t there. You pout a bit thinking you really hurt his feelings so you were going to call him but you heard the front door unlock.

You take a couple of steps over to the door to see him walk in with two plastic bags in hand. One had two to-go boxes and the other held a small and clear container with what looks like cake.

As ‘tsumu takes his shoes off he looks up to see you standing there looking cute as shit in his t-shirt. “Hey baby, you okay?” he asks with a smile as he walks over to you.

You smile back and it makes his chest warm. “Yeah honey,” you say softly as you cup his cheek, “I’m sorry for being snappy earlier. I didn’t mean it.”

‘Tsumu gives you a wider smile as he leans into your touch and moves his head to press a kiss on your palm. “I know baby, it’s okay,” he says as he sets the bags on the kitchen counter before opening them. He pulls the to-go boxes out and opens one up to you, “Your favorite from the shop around the corner, m’lady. And a mini bundt cake.”

You giggle and lean up to press a kiss on his cheek with a loud smooch, “Thank you, ‘tsumu.”

“You’re welcome, baby,” he smiles as he looks at you then your lips, “Can I hold you? I missed you.”

You didn’t hesitate to wrap your arms around his neck and stood on your tippy-toes to press a loving kiss against his lips. Atsumu sighed into the kiss as he slides his hands over your hips towards your lower back.

Both of you pull away with smiles on your faces. You look up at him with sparkling eyes and a smile. “Love you, baby,” Atsumu whispers against your lips.

“Love you too, ‘tsumu.”

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Bokuto Kotaro

Working from home had its pros but the cons? Staring at two different screens all day in the same chair can be the most irritating con. Yes, you can get up and stretch while working in your pj’s by today was not the case.

You’ve been back and forth with the same damn project you and your team have been working on for weeks. Everything and anything regarding the said project has been making negative impacts and affecting communication with your team. As much as you love them, your patients was running thin.

You were in a middle of a phone call when Kou came home from practice. He stayed longer than usual for practice for a game coming up so he came home wanting to see you right away since he missed you so damn much.

But he was caught in your wrath when he barged into your little home office in the guest bedroom of your shared home to gain your attention.

“Baby!” he called out loudly as he opened the door and walked towards you with his bright smile.

Now he usually does this when he comes home but with what was going on with work you just couldn’t take it. Feeling him wrap his beefy arms around your shoulders it felt like the weight of your project was pulling you down. And the pressure you felt in your chest made you antsy and uncomfortable right away.

“Kou, get off I’m in a meeting,” you scolded as you lightly pushed him away and turned back towards the computer screens.

Oh our sweet owl’s hair deflated had the sound of your mean mom voice, he likes to call it. A deep pout settles on his face as he stares at the back of your head. “Meanie…,” he mumbled then his eyes move behind your head to the two screens. He recognized the slides you were looking at.

“The same project?” he thinks…

He remembers you venting about your frustrations with the project a couple days ago and he thought things have settled down now. So he steps out of the room while closing the door softly. Yes, he’s a little hurt but you’re stressed so it’s not something he’ll take to heart.

You’re a patient woman. One of the many reasons why he loves you. When he has his downs, you’re there for him the entire way and he’ll do the exact same for you. When you’re frustrated you do tend to want to be alone for a minute or two than wanting any physical interaction like Kou does.

So, since you still have 15 more minutes left till you clock out for the day, Kou gets the idea to hopefully lift your spirits. He had called you during his break to let you know he’ll be picking food up for dinner so it was all ready for you once you were.

Exactly 15 minutes later, you let out the longest sigh as you get up from your chair to stretch. You also let out a quiet ‘jesus christ’ in frustration too when you remembered how you greeted Kou back earlier. You hate acting out like that because it leaves a bad taste in your mouth. So you move your stiff legs out the bedroom door.

“Hey, sweets!” kou smiled with his hair standing a bit.

Your eyes widen as you slip an ‘oh’ in surprise seeing a little fort in the living room and take-out boxes ready to open. It looks like Kou was laying the pillows from the bed down on the floor with blankets galore piled together.

You giggle as you take in the scene. The warm fairy lights were on and so was the tv. The smell of food made you stomach growl. Kou sits on one side of the fort with a huff. “Come here, baby,” he pouts with open arms, “I know you had a hard day.”

You move hastily towards him to sit on his lap and arms wrapped around his neck. Your face nuzzled into his neck. Kou takes you in a warm embrace with his arms around your waist. “M’sorry, Kou,” you mumbled as he held you tighter against him, “Stupid project is kicking my ass.”

Kou laughs softly as he presses kisses on your shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, baby,” he says before pulling away from you, “I got your favorite from that restaurant down the street.”

You smile and cup his face before smooshing his cheeks together. “You’re the best, you know?” you say as a fact before giving him a fat kiss like you usually do when he comes home.

“You are though,” you mumble against your kiss as he squeezes your waist and pulls away with a happy smile, “The best and the prettiest baby…”

You laugh wholeheartedly as he began to smother you in kisses and raspberries. “Kou!” you laugh, “Come onnn, I’m hungry!”

“Nope!” he laughed and continued to kiss and tickle your sides, “This is what you get for being mean!”

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liquidcatt · 8 months

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Hearing Taylor Swifts ‘Love Story’ and you imagine yourself and him meeting and in the end he sings: "Marry me, Juliet. You'll never have to be alone. I love you and that's all I really know. I talked to your dad, go pick out a white dress. It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes”. You say ‘yes’, run into his arms, crying tears of joy with him.

Bokuto, Akaashi, Kageyama, Hinata, Gary Goodspeed, Atsumu, Oikawa, Daichi, Kita, Kuroo, Asahi, Sugawara, Ushijima (+ your fav)

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kodaiki · 2 years

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꒰ 8:45 P.M. ꒱❛ miya atsumu x reader ༉‧₊˚✧

“you don’t get to just do that!” you scold the taller man, feeling your cheeks flush hotter than they already were.

roommate!atsumu stands tall in front of you, crossed arms over his chest as he looks over at you boredly - boredly! he has the audacity to act nonchalant in the middle of getting an earful from you!

“do what?” he asks, jutting his chin out in feign innocence.

“do what-" you scoff, repeating him. “you third wheeled my date!”

“wasn’t your date the dinner?” atsumu asks skeptically, putting a hand to his chin in thought. “i didn’t third wheel nothin’.”

you groan in frustration at the blond. miya atsumu may be your roommate and best friend, sure, but you wanted to strangle him ninety-nine percent of the time.

you’d gotten back from a date just an hour prior, bringing your date home along with you since he (and well, you didn’t mind) wanted to continue after your reservation at the nice spot in the center of town.

“you can’t seriously by playing dumb right now,” you mutter, turning away from him as you trudge back over to the living area where coasters and a near empty (mostly atsumu’s doing) bowl of chips are settled on an end table. first, you put the coasters back in their place on the lower shelf of the table for the next time you have company — thanks to atsumu though, you don’t think that’ll be soon.

then, grabbing the bowl, you walk back toward the kitchen where atsumu’s leaning against the counter, closely watching your movements.

“the first date i’ve had in months and the guy’s never gonna call again,” you continue muttering. it’s toward your roommate but you’re not exactly talking to him, more like talking into the air, well aware he’d catch it.

at your less frustrated expression, atsumu's original playful and mischievous gleam in his eye dissipates. you look more solemn, shoulders hunched as you do the dishes in the sink – after all, it was your turn to do the chores.

“to be fair, i don’t think you’d want a guy like that calling again. to have to be told to take off his shoes when entering our home? i can already tell what sort of man that is,” atsumu huffs, remembering the way the man so casually stepped into your apartment, following you, watching you slip off your heels – heels atsumu knew you hated wearing since they always left a blister at your pinky toe – and just, waltz in without taking off his shoes.

“he apologized!“ you quip back, glaring at him over your shoulder. “maybe he’s raised different.”

“sure.” the faux blond rolls his eyes as he recalls the way the man (now come to think of it, atsumu doesn’t even remember his name) apologized quickly to you when he’d been the one to tell him to take off his shoes in a rather dry tone. apologizing for the sake of it, atsumu thinks, because just two minutes after walking in he’s asking for some wine. asking!

“he was nice all night and you were being so hostile and interrupting us,” you chide, going back to scrubbing a plate in the sink.

“he was nice to you,” atsumu clarifies. “man didn’t like me the second he walked in-“

“-demanding a man to take off his shoes isn’t exactly a polite hello,” you cut off knowingly but atsumu continues anyway.

“-so of course i was hostile.” not to mention, atsumu wants to add, the way said man stared at his dear, beloved roommate as if she were a meal, only melting her resolve with sly compliments and an innocent act. “he gave me weird looks,” he settles on instead.

“can’t imagine why.”

he could tell the minute your date walked through the door, charming smile gracing his lips as you stepped inside, he had more plans than just dinner and some home snacks. nah, atsumu thinks with a sneer, he wanted dessert.

but damn, if atsumu’s chest didn’t swell with pride and confidence at the slight falter in your date’s reaction to him, a roommate you were vague talking about (so vague you didn’t mention it was a man at all).

it helped that he could tell the guy was a sleaze, finding any excuse to set the mood; drinks, a rom-com playing on one of the movie channels of your cable box, shutting off the lights. yeah, atsumu had fun barging through the living room of your apartment every fifteen minutes, claiming he needed something, either from the kitchen or the living area itself.

atsumu walks up next to you, holding a hand out. it’s a subtle attempt to lighten the mood, helping you dry the dishes as you wash them, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“you probably made him feel uncomfortable,” you pout, passing him a mug to dry.

that was my intention, he thinks. “by just bein’ me? hm, i think that’s a him problem then.”

“still, he wasn't being outright rude to you, or me! he-"

"right, because he was nice," atsumu drawls out, rolling his eyes.

"yes," you answer, matter-of-factly. "nice."

"these quote, nice guys, aren't it, gotta tell 'ya." he crosses his arms as he sighs out, looking as if he knows all, as if he's about to give you some wise words. good thing you know he's miya atsumu so you don't expect too much.

"oh yeah?" you muse, light smile curling one side of your lips, a reaction he was hoping for.

"definitely. it's all a facade covering up all their severely red flags. 'ya need a guy who can tease ya, make fun of ya, y'know the type to laugh first when you fall and then ask if you're alright."

"oh, so someone like you then?" you stifle a laugh at his blatant autobiography. you don't notice the underlying meaning of your question when you ask it but atsumu does.

he freezes for a second, glancing at your genuine curiosity. "y-yeah," he stammers, grateful that you don't catch it, reaching up to put away a dried bowl back into a cabinet. "someone fun. not "nice"."

"an asshole," you reveal with a teasing lilt, awaiting his response. atsumu whips his head toward you, brows furrowed at your insinuation. at the playful gleam in your eyes, all frustration settled between your brows fully gone, he relaxes.

"sometimes," he clarifies, looking down at you amusedly.

"mm," you hum out in disagreement. "i think it's always."

"yeah?" he tests, raising a brow at you. "didn't i bring an umbrella to your job so you wouldn't get stuck in the rain?"

"fine, fine." you brush him off, waving your arms.

"or that time i bought you lunch 'cus you forgot your bento?"

"i get it-"

"driving you home from that god awful date you had three months ago?"

"atsumu-!" your voice is pitched higher in embarrassment, remembering the circumstances.

"what about the time i saved you from a nice guy who probably isn't so much of a nice guy?" his voice is quiet then, looking deeply at you.

your mortified expression shifts into a softer one, absorbing his words. although atsumu came off as a prick ninety percent of the time, he really did have your best interest at heart — even though your best interest could only satisfyingly be him.

“he talked about his workout routine all the way here,” you mumble out of nowhere, feeding into atsumu’s perception.

“i knew it!” he snaps his fingers and looks at you victoriously. “that’s total douche behavior if y’ask me. dodged a bullet, doll.”

you sigh out a laugh, lips curling up at his eager expression. “guess I did. besides,” you pause, bumping his shoulder with yours, despite the height difference. nothing but an affectionate tone slips between your lips and as it seems, you’ve forgotten whatever you’d been annoyed at him for. “i think i’m keen on a particular asshole in my life anyway.”

✿ reblogs and interaction always appreciated !! ✿

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kira-fluff · 10 months

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haikyuu!! neurodivergent headcanons 💕

tw: several listed mental illnesses, some of these are solely off of vibes but most of them I have reasons lol note! I do not believe autism is a mental illness or something that is "wrong" with an individual, hence why the title is "neurodivergent" rather than "mental illness". just had to put that out there! to all my neurodivergent babies I love you! a/n: hello! as a neurodivergent like myself (depression, anxiety, ptsd, bulimia, etc etc) i thought it would be really cool to do an analysis on one of my biggest hobbies (psychological illnesses) and relate them to haikyuu characters! some of them have a deeper explanation because I feel so strongly about it.

attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADD/ADHD) BOKUTO, hinata, NISHINOYA, atsumu, lev

generalized anxiety disorder (GAD) sugawara, OIKAWA, asahi, yamaguchi, yachi, aone, akaashi, tendo

social anxiety disorder (SAD) asahi, KENMA

post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) oikawa

depression (MDD) oikawa, KENMA, kuroo, suna, matsukawa, tendo

autism sakusa, USHIJIMA, kageyama, kyotani, kenma

eating disorder(s) (AND, BND, BED) OIKAWA, KENMA

obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) oikawa

borderline personality disorder (BPD) daishou

insomnia kuroo, kenma, osamu

hypersomnia suna

analysis under the cut

it's pretty obvious that bokuto struggles the most to self-regulate, even to others, but I personally believe that oikawa struggles the most with his mental health.

like almost everyone in haikyuu, oikawa is obsessed with volleyball, but he takes it to a point of overexertion and taking his anger and frustration at his own inadequacies out on others.

I really think oikawa's relationship between he and kageyama and he and ushijima are the ones that show how bad his anxiety is

ushijima and kageyama both don't understand the emotions oikawa is feeling which could be written off as them not understanding their talents, but I think it's something more

to me, I feel it is blatantly obvious that ushijima is autistic. he just so frequently seems to be unable to read the emotions of others or takes things literally when it's something else intended. I'm not autistic, though, so autistic community, let me know your thoughts!

bokuto and hinata both have an insane amount of energy, but struggle to be successful in school. sports works for both of them because their focus is constantly needed to be diverted or "all over the place" that it helps them be great players

kuroo is one of those other characters that I feel like I'm reaching to say he has mental health struggles but to me it just comes off in vibes. first of all, any kid with divorced parents should be in therapy so I feel there's definitely some struggles there.

I think kuroo is the type that hides his struggles and pretends they aren't happening. he puts a lot of pressure on himself to be the best at everything he does, and so he feels he doesn't have time to deal with the emotions that leave him feeling empty

kenma was someone I immediately felt was autistic. he has so many key factors like an obsession/hyperfocus on his hobbies and trouble socializing (social anxiety).

kenma has some of the strongest evidence toward my beliefs, specifically in this quote: "I'm not good with people, and I don't want to interact with them. and yet, I'm very concerned about what others think of me." like, tell me that doesn't radiate autistic/SAD vibes!!!!

idk what it is, like inadequacies or what but I genuinely believe oikawa has some kind of trauma. like he's definitely carrying something that so heavily effected him that it controls the choices he makes in life

I don't have much evidence that suna has depression, it's just a vibe because of his mannerisms and what he says. I think it's the kind where it's well-managed, but it shows up in physical symptoms like apathy more than anything.

atsumu gives ADHD vibes solely because of like how all over the place he is and how he can't always seem to properly get out what he's trying to say lol

sakusa is one that to me could be seen as "done with your bullshit" but I think he also hates crowds (like me, I mean who doesn't) and struggles socially probably because of anxiety or autism. not sure!

basing daishou off of vibes, too, because if I'm being honest all I've seen in the show is him having hostile relationships or being on-off with them, though its certain I could be reading too much into it, but that's the fun of headcanons.

do you agree with what I wrote? I would love to hear your thoughts!

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astyrial · 2 months

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the history teacher atsumu miya x fem!reader (fluff) synopsis: it's hard having the hot history teacher right next door word count: 1.1k warnings: atsumu is so flirtatious omg masterlist | requests are open

a bell rings throughout the high school as students shuffle to get all of their items together. as your gaze finds the clock, you realize it's lunch time for most of the junior students. you take in a deep sigh and clasp your hands together in front of you, "don't forget, chapter five and six tonight, make sure to finish the questions. and there are some on the back!"

you watch as all of your students file out of the room, one of them staying behind. mae, your brightest and most promising student, walks over to you, book in her hand. she always liked staying behind, talking about how you're her favorite teacher. she purses his lips and sighs before finally telling you what plagues her mind.

"i need some advice... about guys,” she brings her focus onto you, figuring that no one could overhear her.

"mmh okay, well i am by far the best person in that department, but what's on your mind?" your eyebrows raise for a second, a calming smile on your lips.

mae takes in a deep breath, eyes flickering between you and the door, "someone has been leaving notes in my locker, anonymous ones. they feature poems but i don't know who it is. i just wish i did so i could talk to him."

"i'm sorry mae, maybe you just have to give it a little more time. if he really likes you, he'll let you know it's him. either through little things that remind you of him or a written confession. i'm sure it'll be fine," you lean against your desk, your own gaze finding the door when you see the figure of your coworker.

he leans up against the door, right eyebrow raised. his shoulders are wide, a polo shirt just slightly unbuttoned. you look back at your student, finger pointing towards the clock, "you should probably get to lunch, wouldn't want you missing out because of a secret admirer."

mae nods, scratching the back of her neck before turning around to leave. with a couple of books in hand, it takes her a minute to look up and notice your coworker standing there, she looks back at you, a cheeky smile on her lips. you shrug your shoulders until she leaves, watching as she gives a short goodbye to the school's most interesting history teacher.

he takes a few steps into the room, shirt ever so slightly small around his biceps. you look over at your computer, eyes trying to hide from his. however, there's something so intriguing about him that you can't help but meet his gaze. him, the history teacher, the one who is in a room next to yours, the one who always finds a way to see you.

"ms. l/n... i overheard you aren't a pro when it comes to romance. considering how beautiful you are, i'm very surprised," he reaches his hand out and taps one of the student's desks, gaze not breaking yours.

you nod, shrugging your shoulders, truly watching him sway into your classroom nearly takes your breath away. the way he can just walk so effortlessly to you, "well mr. miya-"

"you know you can call me atsumu, i've always told you that," a few pieces of rich brown hair falls down, one hand moving to push it back into place.

"i wouldn't think that to be very professional, especially if you call me ms. l/n all the time. besides, i think that miya is a great name," your hands becoming clammy as they push against your desk, heartbeat quickening as he takes a few more steps in your direction.

he lets out a hearty laugh but doesn't stop his runway walk towards you. the leather belt he's sporting keeps the shirt tight enough against his stomach that you can almost see his abs. despite you knowing that starting anything with a coworker is an awful idea, you can't help but wonder if anything could happen between the two of you.

"well, y/n... how does that sound? you call me atsumu and i call you y/n. and by the way, i love how your breath hitches whenever i say your name," atsumu finally makes it to your desk, resting a hand on your desk, body a mere foot away from you.

you bite your top lip while looking away from him, shaking your head slightly. of course your breath hitches as he comes ever so close to you. he's been this way ever since you met him and he's right. you do like him, especially as he tilts his head in such a cocky manner. "i don't know what you're talking about... atsumu."

a smile stretches across his face at his name coming from your mouth. atsumu then leans a little closer to you, breath just barely brushing across your skin. "right... well, y/n, how would you feel about dinner, saturday? because i know an amazing chef," he brings his free hand to rest on his hip, most likely flexing his arm a little.

"dinner? mmh you may have to let me think about it," you turn back to look at him, his face inches away from yours, his golden brown eyes flickering between yours.

"it seems that you may already have an answer," atsumu's ears perk up a little and his hand reaches for yours, "either that or i'm completely misinterpreting how you look at me. by the way, my eyes are up here, for future reference."

heat rises to your cheeks as you bite the inside of your cheek, gaze turning to the floor. you sigh, feeling his hand running over yours. "i have no idea what you're talking about. however, i may have already thought it over and would love to join you for dinner," you finally look back up and can't help but take in a sharp breath.

atsumu smiles, leaning back again, nodding. he runs his thumb along the back of your hand before grabbing his phone from his pocket. he holds it out to you, not able to keep his eyes from you, "you want to add your number in here?"

"alright, atsumu, if you insist."

you begin to type your number into his phone, removing your hand from his. however, neither of you notice it when your student mae has returned to to grab one of her other books, that same knowing smile on her face. she may not be able to recognize the romance within her own life, but she can definitely see how you see the history teacher from next door.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfic #atsumu miya x reader #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu miya #atsumu x reader #teacher x teacher #atsumu miya fluff #atsumu miya fanfic #x reader #x fem!reader

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rintarousgirl · 10 months

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i wanna be yours -- 1. why'd you only ever call me when you're high?

✦ - Y/N is a small business owner, offering her services not only as a designer but an at-home makeup artist and cosmetic producer as well. She's perfectly content with her small life when she's approached by the manager of the INARIZAKI band, asking for her to fill the position of backstage artist on short notice. Needing the money, and wanting the experience, Y/N agrees. Little does she know of the fatal attraction she will share with the band's lead, Suna Rintarou.

»»————-　★　————-««

The smell of caramel and cocoa hung in the air of the small coffee shop as you worked silently. Your laptop sat on the table in front of you while you sewed a small rip in one of your client's commissions. You weren't the biggest seamstress, but you did it pretty well by hand and it went by a lot quicker and smoother for you then doing it with a machine.

You loved coming to the coffee shop to get your work done. The smell of roast and warm pastries soothed you, and the large, iced coffee you always ordered remained one of your favorite drinks. No other place was able to make it the way you liked it like this place did.

Putting down your commission, you took a sip of your coffee, relishing in its taste. You breathed out a sigh and wiped your lipgloss off the straw. You were about to scroll through a few unanswered emails when a man slides into the other half of the booth you occupied.

Blinking, you took in the sight of him, and your eyes met hazel ones. "Um, hello," you said, feeling a spark of uncomfort grow in you. The man gave a small smile, holding a drink of his own.

"Hello. I'm hoping you're Ms. Y/N?"

You ran the possibilities through your mind. He could be a sales marketer, or a fan. Though, it was weird to run into a fan of your rather small business in your rather small town in an even smaller coffee shop. Unnerved, you gave a nod.

"Good, that makes things a lot easier. I don't want to scare you, but I have been looking into your business as an artist and designer. I'm Kita Shinsuke, and I have a job proposition for you."

Swallowing around a lump in your throat, you said, "Go ahead."

He takes a small sip of his drink, before clearing his throat. "I'm sure you've heard of the band INARIZAKI?"

You snorted. "Who hasn't?" you asked jokingly. The band was popular, known for its amazing talent and "hot" members. You hadn't heard much of their music, but they sounded good enough on the radio when you drove. You knew Kuroo was a bit of a fan, but that's all the exposure you had.

Running a small business, you don't have a lot of time to engage in things you may like. You were constantly running yourself ragged trying to ship out the right number of orders with perfect quality to your clients. You couldn't even count how many nights you'd stayed up till the birds began to chirp trying to package and create things. You may have overestimated your abilities to sell your own makeup, clothes, and other cute things along with being an at-home makeup artist. But you wouldn't stop for the world.

Kita agreed with a small chuckle. "Well, I am their manager. Due to unfortunate circumstances our current makeup artist and outfit coordinator left our team. Obviously, we wouldn't want any big faces on our team as we'd like to keep it small for the privacy of our band members. You were recommended to me through a friend, and I was told how to approach you."

You tried to think of your recent clients, and their backgrounds. Off the top of your head, none of them seemed famous enough to know the manager of the INARIZAKI band. Unless it were Bokuto or Kenma, but you're pretty sure they wouldn't talk with them either.

You had to admit, he was piquing your interest.

"So, Ms. Y/N. It isn't anything set in stone yet, but could we arrange something? I'm aware this is very short notice, but we have a small concert three nights from now and I'm afraid I am not well-versed enough to do it myself. Try it out, see if you'd like the gig, and we'll see how it goes.

"It is very sudden," you say, thinking back to all the projects you had at home. But you didn't have any makeup gigs as of recent, just small shipping's and your own personal life. You could do it, probably. "Let me check my calendar."

Kita nodded. "Of course."

You ignored your emails once more, and clicked on your calendar tab. You were right. Any bookings weren't for another week at the least, and most of your current commissions were small things like scarves or sweaters. Well, you had those specialized kneepads to work on for Bokuto's birthday two weeks from now, but you had some free time.

"I could do that, yeah," you say, smiling at him. Kita seemed nice and pretty harmless, and you had heard the name before. You trusted him, even if it was stupid to say.

Kita's small smile grows into something a little hopeful. "Wonderful. I've already emailed you before this, but I hadn't gotten a response. So, you have my contact information. May I have your email?"

You nod, writing it down on a pad of paper for him. He pockets it. "I'm going to set up something with the band as a meeting before the concert. Most likely a dinner tomorrow night, does that sound good?"

"Just send me the details!" you beam, giving him a thumbs up.

He gets up to leave, but you grab onto his sleeve. He turns, cup in hand. "Thank you for giving me this opportunity, really. I'm very excited."

Kita looks down to his shoes for a second, as if in thought, then his hazel eyes snap back up to you. "I should be the one thanking you for accepting so suddenly. You're really saving my job, Y/N."

"I wouldn't say so. You do a lot for the band as manager. If you didn't, you wouldn't have found me."

"I suppose you're right."

Kita leaves after that, and you turn to face the coffee table. Shock begins to register within your body. Did that really just happen? Your fingers shake, and you know you won't be able to get any sewing done for a while.

This was the opportunity of a lifetime. Kita said he'd emailed you before. What if he hadn't been so determined as to hunt you down? Would you have missed this just because you slacked off on checking your emails?

God.

You take out your phone, and open twitter. Talking about your issues on social media always got a laugh out of your friends.

༻✦༺

༻✦༺ next -> | masterlist

fun fact(s)!:

y/n and akaashi were the first friends out of the group, dating all the way back to high school. akaashi's overprotective of her like a brother, and they hang out the most. akaashi introduced her to bokuto at vb when she became the manager for his team and then to kuroo and kenma.

kita regularly goes to the same coffee shop y/n was at with aran. he just happened to run into her there picking up coffees for the two of them.

taglist:

»»————-　★　————-««

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natashawritesstuff · 2 years

Text

You met Atsumu when you were a sophomore in college and he had just joined the league. You lived in a bubble and it wasn’t until the season ended that you were on winter break, that it finally popped. He met your family and you met his. While over his childhood house, you felt you were like walking through a museum of his life. Embarrassing photos hung up on the walls with his twin, friends he had mentioned in passing, old teammates and-

“Tsumu, who’s this?” you ask staring at a picture from his graduation. Atsumu was on the right, Osamu on the left, and in the middle-”

“Oh, that’s my ex-girlfriend,” he says nonchalantly, coming in from the kitchen and shrugging at the photo, then leaves as quickly as he came.

“Oh,” you whisper to yourself, “that’s her.”

You’ve never met Atsumu’s ex, but sometimes it feels like you’ve had. You’ve heard countless stories of what everyone else calls ‘his first love’ they met in middle school and dated up until graduation when she broke up with him hours after they walked the stage.

“Why’s the photo still up?” you call out.

“My mom liked how Samu and I looked in it. Why ya’ jealous?” he teases and you laugh.

“Not all at all.”

And you weren’t. Until you found her in more photos, more memories that she was in, places she had been with Atsumu that you hadn’t yet. You weren’t jealous until you found her bracelet under his old bed. You weren’t jealous until he smiled when he saw it remembering how much she complained about losing it the night before their last first day of school. You weren’t jealous until he texted her a photo of it, finding her contact a little too quickly. You weren’t jealous, you weren’t. Because he’s yours. Yeah, she’s his first love but he loves you now, and that’s what matters, right?

You’re not jealous.

That is until she texts back and he replies. And he remembers that she was one to recommend a new conditioner for his bleached hair to make it softer. The soft hair that you love to run your fingers through. That’s because of her. The stud on his left ear, the places he takes you on date nights, the cologne he wears. Her, her, her.

You can’t find a way to separate the two, you feel as if she made him, she built the man before you if that’s so what’s stopping her from coming back and claiming what’s hers.

You’ll get distant. Pull back, he notices and he’ll reach for you in the night, bringing your body closer to his and just when you want so sink into his touch- his phone chimes. It’s a small chime, quiet, but nonetheless, a storm ensues.

“It’s over!”

“Yeah, by your choice or hers?” you wonder.

“She broke up with me you know this!” he screams. It’s one the morning but the two of you are wide awake. She texted late, because of course she did, she ‘needed a place to crash’ and thought your boyfriends couch seemed like the place to do it.

“And if she didn’t?” you ask.

“I’m with you!”

“Would you be if she didn’t?”

“What are ya doing asking that?”

“Would she be sleeping in this bed instead of asking for the couch if she didn’t? Would she be here instead of me?”

“Y/N-”

“Thought so,” you whisper and storm out of the bedroom suggesting, “text her back, wouldn’t want to keep her waiting.”

“Y/N!”

You grab your keps and fling open the door for your heart to sink.

“You,” she says, with an amused smile.

You’ve never met Atsumu’s ex.

part two

part 3

this is based on ex-girlfriend by Melina KB (i'm so rusty)

Inarizaki Masterlist

Return to Main Masterlist

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bakugokemkatsuki · 5 months

Text

Right Where You Left Me (PT.2)

Atsumu Miya x Reader to Osamu Miya x Reader

**Genre: Fluff (w/ a little angst sprinkled in) **Key: Y/N- Your Name Talking You, Osamu **Word Count: 394

**Part 1 Part 2.5 (Atsumu’s Aftermath)

Now having dated Atsumu Miya you ended up also befriending his twin Osamu. Osamu was the one there to witness the whole relationship. The ups and downs, good and bad. All of it and he was there that night. The night his brother… his twin broke your heart. He has watched you every day for the past year come in and relive that night, frozen in that moment. After a year he decided to intervene. He started with small, short conversations, and eventually offered you a job (I mean you were there all the time anyways might as well get paid to be there). He was hoping working there would help you make happy memories in the restaurant so you would finally move on. It started slow but eventually you started smiling again and holding long meaningful conversations again. Osamu really missed those conversations. Then you started coming early and staying late to help Osmau with prep because he always did that by himself. It was a year and a half after the breakup when you two shared a small moment, you two were prepping which somehow ended up in a mini food fight and you both laughing on the floor. It was the happiest you had felt in so long. You started looking forward to work more and more (and by work you meant seeing Osamu). But of course, the universe couldn’t leave it at that. Atsumu ended up coming in with his new girl and their brand-new infant. Seeing them you felt something inside you snap and you couldn’t help but cry. But Osamu was there holding you comforting you and it was then you realized you fell for the wrong twin. You realized just how great Osamu was. You spent the next few weeks getting closer and dropping hints until it all came to a head. “Osamu I can’t do this anymore you’re so oblivious.” You tell him out of the blue one day but before ehe had time to process you crashed your lips to his. “I love you Osamu Miya.” “I love you too Y/N.” You two kissed again and for the first time in a long time your universe felt whole again. “So it looks like you’re still going to become a Miya after all.” “Is this your way of proposing?” “Not yet, but with time don’t worry.”

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romiyaro · 2 years

Text

Men!!!

cw: implied fem!reader, referred to as girlfriend (or so ig)

a/n: no idea of word count i just wanted to warm up my writing gears. positive criticism appreciated, like, reblog, comment if you like this and would like to see a part 2 (which gosh i want aby to write so spam her inbox yall i wanna read the rest in her writing )

for a part 2 contact @/sanoinc cuz my brain ded

Your eyebrows twitch in annoyance as you stare at the unchanging google doc.

It's been 30 minutes already and Atsumu has yet to add another word to the document. You can see his cursor on the doc, and he told you he's researching what he's going to write.

But it surely wouldn't need thirty fucking minutes to research about MBTI types, would it?

You call him. The phone rings for a moment before Atsumu picks. "Hey babe, I'm still researchin'. Gimme a minute."

"Alright." You reply, crisp and short. You don't hang up, hoping he doesn't notice. And to your smug chagrin, he doesn't notice. You can hear the slight creak of his gaming chair as he twirls around, already imagining him putting the headphones around his neck back on.

And his next words don't disappoint you at all. "Hey, I'm back. Where were we?"

"Who was that?" It's faint but you can tell it's Osamu from the strong accent.

"Y/n. They have been pestering me with a stupid project. I'll do it later." His tone sounds carefree, ignorant of you seething on the other side of the phone. You throw your phone on the pillow, muting yourself worried you might say something in anger. Sighing, you fall back on the bed, project all but forgotten.

Yes, it carried no marks. But the topic was MBTIs, and learning more about the MBTI of your partner. You had taken a leave of two days from your part time job to get this group project done with. And a little part of you also wanted to have a little bonding time with your silly boyfriend.

So when he did what he did right now, it really grated on your nerves in the wrong way.

You sigh once again, and your roommate looks over. "What's got you sighing like that?"

"It's nothing," you wave it away, "Just a ruined project, and a ruined mood." You mumble the last part, not wanting to bother your bestie with your boyfriend troubles.

She doesn't get the hint, furrowing her brows as she asks, "Is it Atsumu again?"

You chuckle, nodding your head, "Yeah, kinda." Gosh, the entire world could tell when you were dissatisfied with your boyfriend. Everyone except him.

"Y'know, you can always play dirty." She winks at you.

Your mouth falls slack, "No. I'm not sending Atsumu a nude." Hell nah, you were not bold enough to do that. Your roommate was a risky little shit, but that didn't mean that you would let her influence your reasoning.

"Your call," She shrugs, knowing she couldn't persuade you unless you wanted it, "It works for me." She rolls back into the cocoon of her blankets, resuming to idly watch Instagram reels.

You bite your lip, pondering over the suggestion. The wheels whirr in your brain, frustration from your boyfriend's neglect, and anger from earlier clouding your judgment as you grab your phone and head to the dresser.

Sitting before the waist-length mirror, you pull off your tshirt, exposing your bra-clad skin to the mirror. Biting your lip, you open the camera, trying different poses and angles. You pout, reviewing the pictures, none of them seem appealing enough. The images are blurry and the lighting seems kinda dull.

"Want some help with that?" the cheery voice rings behind you. You laugh. Oh, you could you forget that little minx.

"Yes," you nod, "I'll treat you to fries." You promise.

Ro jumps off her bed in one fell swoop. She turns off the lights and switches on the LEDs she taped around the room for this sole purpose. Now bathed in a romantic red color, you glance at yourself in the mirror.

You have to admit you look hot. The lights do your skintone justice and it blurs your face, making it hard to realize who you are. Ro giggles mischievously, "Now comes the good part."

She smacks at your spine. "Ow!" you groan, arching your back. Grabbing your shoulder she whispers urgently, "Hold that pose." She straightens your shoulders out a bit, making your chest pop lewdly. But the lighting falls on your chest, reflecting a pretty red all over your exposed body. The shadow falls on your waist, making it look more appealing.

Ro hands you the phone, camera open and timer for 10 seconds started. She hurriedly sets the phone in your hand, leaping out of the way when 5 seconds are left, "Don't move!" she whispers. The camera shutters, capturing an image of you bathed in red and partially covering your face. You look at the image closely.

A smile lights up your face. The picture turned out very good, lewd but not pornographic, enough to tease. You haven't felt this hot in a while. And you like this. Turning to Ro, you exclaim, "We should do this more often!"

She laughs, "I do this all the time. You tell me when you wanna rile that bitch up again. I'll help you." Her smug smirk tells you she loves the idea of torturing others. And she would be down for another session later.

You send the image to Atsumu, clicking back to the phone call that's been going on for 45 whole minutes already. With bated breath you listen in on his conversation with Osamu.

"Hold up, 'Samu. I got a message from y/n on discord."

"Ya should really get working on the proj-"

There's a dull thud from the other side. You wonder what happened and as if answering your question Osamu hollers, "HOW THE FUCK DID YA JUST FALL OF THAT CHAIR, 'TSUMU-"

"I- JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, 'SAMU I-" Atsumu's muffled groans reverberate throught he phone and you giggle, accidntally hitting unmute on your phone.

The other side goes silent for a second. You hear shuffling from the other side and Atsumu's voice this time is clear as daylight as he exclaims, "Ya didn't hang up?"

You peep amidst laughter, "No- didn't-"

"Ya mean," you can imagine him drearily gulping, "Ya heard all of that?"

"I did." You smile, "And I didn't hang up cuz I wanted to tell you that," You lower your voice, mysteriously whispering, "You can get the uncensored version of that pic if you finish the theory work of the project tonight." You resolutely hang up, cutting his high pitched excited squeal off.

#atsumu x fem reader #x fem reader #x fem!reader #tw fem!reader #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #atsumu scenarios #atsumu imagines #miya atsumu imagines #miya atsumu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #atsumu fluff

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pinkykats-place · 2 years

Text

Haikyuu x Reader Hurt/Comfort Ⅱ

Tumblr Recommendations

Disclaimers!

None of the stories linked below are mine.

Some contain mature content. Fem & GN readers.

Note: If you read any of these stories and like them please like, comment and/or reblog their work!

His kid asks him to stay away

Ft. Oikawa, Atsumu x fem!Reader

A Misunderstanding

Kuroo Tetsurou x spouse! Reader

He Forgets Your Anniversary

Miya Osamu x fem! Reader

HE LASHES ON YOU ON A BAD DAY

kuroo, osamu, bokuto x reader

Aftermath of a Fight

Tendou, Oikawa, Kageyama, Atsumu

how he apologizes

ft. suna, makki

lack of love

Suna x fem!Reader

Synopsis: You and Suna have an agreement, but you overstep, and he doesn’t like that.

THEY COME HOME DRUNK AND MAKE AN OFFHAND COMMENT ON YOUR APPEARANCE

3 Parts

#hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort recommendations #reader insert recommendation #haikyuu hurt/comfort #angst to comfort #angst to fluff #haikyuu x reader #tumblr recommendations #reader insert recommendations #kenma x gn!reader #husband kuroo x spouse reader #atsumu miya x female reader #Miya Osamu x female reader #forgotten anniversary #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa x fem reader #tendo x reader #kuroo x reader #fight and makeup

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toomanygoldfish · 1 year

Text

Unplanned Ceremonies

Sakusa was laying on the couch scrolling through instagram when The Annoyance called him. Sighing, he picked up the phone and answered Atsumu's call.

I’ve done something.

Whatever you did I’m not helping you

Omi just listen to me

If I wasn’t you and me wouldn’t be talking right now

Ok…. Shit

Atsumu Miya, what did you do?

I got drunk and married a girl last night.

…

Sakusa hung up. What did he just hear? Was he hearing things? He must be dreaming. Turning his phone off all the way he laid down and when to sleep.

/•\*/•\*/•\*/•\*/•\*/•\*/•\*/•\*/•\*/•\

Atsumu looked down at his phone, flabbergasted that Omi hung up on him. Your movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention. You had sat up and grabbed your phone and started to text someone. He looked back at his phone and shot a quick text to his brother: Call me quick, it’s an emergency.

He then got some clothes from his suitcase and went to the bathroom to go take a shower and change.

/•\*/•\*/•\*/•\*/•\*/•\*/•\*/•\*/•\*/•\

Osamu woke up to a very concerning text from his brother: Call me quick, it’s an emergency.

What terrified him the most out of this text was that his brother had actually used punctuation. He only ever used punctuation when something serious was happening.

Quickly he clicked the call button on Atsumu’s contact.

Bring

…

You woke up with a pounding headache and the weight of someone next to you. Slowly blinking your eyes open you took in your surroundings. You were in a hotel room, You were wearing all your clothes and you weren’t sore, but something was off sitting up you grabbed your phone.

Looking to the side of you you saw a piss blonde next to you. You opened your texting app to text your friend only to pause and the man went to the shower. There was a ring on your finger. Suddenly the events of last night caught up to you.

You had gotten drunk and wandered off from your group and met the piss man. One thing had led to another and you and him had stumbled into a Walmart, drunk off your asses, and bought an engagement ring.

He had proposed to you right in front of the ring seller with the ring he had yet to pay for. You had said yes. The rest of the “engagement” was wandering to the marriage officiate and signing the papers.

You sent a quick text to your friends saying that you were alright. You had stood up to get a drink of water when the piss man’s phone went off. Debating yourself and just deciding to do it, because he is now your husband, you answered the phone. The contact was called spare parts with a photo of a cockroach.

Atsumu you better give me a good reason why you texted me with such vague wording!

Umm hello?

You- you aren’t Atsumu.

Oh so that’s piss man’s name!

Piss Man? Who are you?

I’m the person your brother ma-

It was at this moment that piss man, Atsumu you thought, emerged from the depths of the bathroom. Quickly tossing the phone to him, grabbing your entire suitcase you made your way to the bathroom. Promptly locking the door and putting your head between your knees and heaving a sigh.

Atsumu walked out of the bathroom and before he could blink the phone was being thrown at him and the girl picked up her suitcase and disappeared into the bathroom.

Hey.. hello?

Osamu!

Atsumu, who was that girl?

Well she is part of the emergency.

Lowering his voice so he made sure the girl couldn’t hear him, he started to explain.

… so you married a girl you don’t even know the name of?

That about sums it up…

/•\*/•\*/•\*/•\*/•\*/•\*/•\*/•\*/•\*/•\

Still sitting on the bathroom floor you started debating your options. Running you decided was off the table. So the only option left was to face the music.

You open the bathroom door to the room. Looking up you decide that you are going to take control of this unfortunate situation.

You sat next to him on the bed and started to break the silence. “So, hello husband! I am [Name], your wife.”

Atsumu had hung up the phone a few minutes before the bathroom door opened. The girl came and sat next to him, opened her mouth and spoke.

/•\*/•\*/•\*/•\*/•\*/•\*/•\*/•\*/•\*/•\

The girl, [Name], was actually pretty nice. They had talked about what to do and together the two of them decided to stay married but start dating like a new couple, and if it didn’t work out then they would divorce and go on with normal life.

After they had this conversation Atsumu had one request, to call his friend.

Ring

Hello?

Hello this is Atsumu’s wife calling to inform you that because of your negligence we will require $200 in cash by tomorrow.

/•\*/•\*/•\*/•\*/•\*/•\*/•\*/•\*/•\*/•\

Sakusa sat there in silence. In his brain he knew that the next time he saw Atsumu there would be choice words that would be shared.

/•\*/•\*/•\*/•\

Author’s notes:

I had written something before this, got to the editing stage and hated it.

Have a good day!!! Stay safe!

#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu drabbles #atsumu fic #atsumu x reader #fluff #fem reader #atsumu x female reader

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duino · 2 years

Text

“ROADSIDE REVELATION” for A Series of "I Love Yous"

Pairing: Atsumu x Fem!Reader

Rating/Warnings: T for Teen

Word Count: 3.2k

Summary: In trying to comfort Atsumu after a big game loss, the two of you come to a revelation together.

Note: Hurt/comfort? Romance! Fluff? Confessions. Is this coherent? Is this well-paced? Was it easy to write? Consistent? Absolutely not! Did I have fun? Heck yeah. Leave the coherency for the 8-page research paper I have to now finish. First fic back after hiatus; I haven't flexed my fic writing muscle in so long. I LOVE YOU ALL.

“Are you hungry? Want me to order some dinner?”

Your question is spoken tentatively into your quiet bedroom. The only sound in the past half hour, since Atsumu had returned from his game, has been the sound of your little fan running on your desk and the occasional honk of a car from outside your window. He had barely even managed a greeting when he had first entered your apartment. He’s barely managing a reply now.

“‘M not hungry,” he murmurs, eyes closed. You frown. There might’ve been a time where you would be smiling and teasing him for his dramatics, but you’re keenly aware of how serious he’s being right now. You’ve never heard his voice sound like that, heavy and quiet.

In fact, you haven’t experienced any of this at all. This is Atsumu’s first big loss in a match since he’s been with you, and if you were being honest, you’ve no idea what to do. The great thing about a new relationship? All the things you haven’t gone through together yet. Of course, this also happens to be the difficult thing about a new relationship.

You don’t know how to make him feel better. You don’t even know if he wants to feel better, but surely, as his girlfriend, it’s your job to try. You really, really want to try. You’ve been weaving in and out of your own bedroom periodically, trying.

“I can draw you a bath,” you suggest. He hadn’t gone for any of your previous five suggestions. Didn’t seem to want to be held, but leaving him alone just felt impossible.

His head shakes. “Already showered.” Your heart is constricting at how quiet he’s being.

Moving to the bed, you touch his arm gently. “Atsumu,” you begin. His mouth presses tightly together immediately—he knows what’s coming. “I’m sorry you lost the game. But—” “But what?” He cuts in tiredly. It’s your turn to press your lips together. At least he’s speaking. That’s progress.

“But it’s not all on you,” you say, soft. He slides his arm off his face to look at you. “And I know it’s hard—”

“Y’don’t,” he interrupts again. This startles you into silence, though he says it gently and without any bite. It’s just a fact he’s stating. “This is…this game isn’t just a game. ‘S not just a loss. We’re cut from th’ rest of the tournament.” His eyes go serious and hard. “I coulda gotten the last ball, but I didn’t.” His mouth trembles just the barest amount. “‘S on me.”

You hold eyes for a long time. Part of you is cinching up inside, prickled from his cold words. But beneath his starkness, you see it, the hurt. The wound of losing something you care about—the guilt of thinking there was a chance you could have saved it. Your chest turns for him. You know it’s not just a game, of course you do.

“I’m sorry, Atsumu,” you say. It’s the only thing you can think of saying. He just hums in reply.

In the face of his loss, you realize you feel strangely inadequate as a partner. Atsumu has always been able to cheer you up. It’s his specialty. He’s loud sometimes, and brash, and volatile when it comes to his sport, but damn it if he doesn’t know how to comfort you. It had been the reason you had agreed to go out with him—how he can always make you laugh, no matter what. And now you can’t do the same for him?

You touch his face gently, then his shoulder. He looks up at you, tired. “I’ll get you some water,” you whisper at last. Atsumu hesitates and then nods before closing his eyes again, looking older than his age.

“Thanks.”

You don’t let out a sigh until you’re in your kitchen, faucet on, waiting for the water to get cold. You’re starting to space out, mind running with possible solutions, when your phone dings in your back pocket with a text. You glance at the screen and your brows flick up. Osamu. This is a first.

How’s he doing? The message reads.

Despite the situation, you’re unusually flattered his twin is texting you right now. Though the two of you have always been friendly, you’ve yet to be friends. His message feels like a mark of acceptance, somehow. You fill the glass with tap and lean against your counter.

He’s pretty devastated, you type back. Doesn’t even want dinner.

That’s serious, all right, comes Osamu’s immediate reply. You have to crack a smile at that. You can basically hear the dryness of his voice through the message. Another buzz. He’ll be fine.

You deliberate before tapping out a message. What usually helps?

Wdym?

You bite your lip. Like what comforts him? What makes him feel better?

The texting dots appear and disappear a few times. It’s a couple minutes before Osamu’s reply comes through. He just needs a distraction. Another minute, and then another text. What makes you feel better?

You stare at the screen and then out the window to the city outside. An image of yourself when you were younger: a long stretch of road, a song you still remember, the sun setting. You glance back down at the screen. I might have an idea.

Your phone buzzes again, but you shove it back into your pocket, already moving toward your bedroom. Atsumu’s eyes peek open when he feels the edge of your bed dip. You offer him a smile, carding your fingers through his mussed-up hair. “Come on,” you say gently. “Let’s go somewhere.”

Atsumu had been reluctant to get out of your bed. If he had had his way, he would’ve chosen to stay buried in your crisp linen sheets for an age, burrowing himself deep in your pillows and his misery, replaying the moment of loss over and over again as he had been for the past hour. The only thing that had compelled him to move was the way you had smiled at him, coaxing him.

Now he was slumped in the passenger side of his own car while you adjusted all the seats and mirrors. His first small, cracking smile of the night comes, watching you making little scooting motions as you fix the seat forward. It dissipates quickly when he remembers the sound of the whistle being blown, just a few hours earlier—the wave of the flag that gave the winning point to the opposing team. The look on his coaches face, the rest of the team—

He’s jolted in his seat and out of his memories when you break suddenly, backing out of the parking space.

“Ooh, those are sensitive breaks.” You shoot him an apologetic smile. “Ready?”

Ready? He wasn’t ready for anything. Hadn’t felt ready for the game. Hadn’t been ready to face the team in the locker room afterwards. The only thing he had wanted after that loss, the only thing he felt ready for, was…

Atsumu looks at you. “Sure, sweetheart. Take me away.” He’s aware of how weary he sounds, but your smile flashes at the pet name. He’s been slowly trying them out on you, since the two of you had started dating and he wins a grin from you every time. You pull out of the parkade and down onto the street, merging into the main road.

“Where’re we goin’?” he asks eventually. He sees your small smile.

“To be honest? I have no idea.” You flash him an amused look.

“You have no idea?”

“Nope,” you reply, popping the p. “But when I first got my license, I used to love driving around all over the city. Early morning, late night. Any time it was quiet. Feels like I can think and run away from thinking at the same time,” you laugh a little. A pause, wistful. “Feels like anything can change.”

Atsumu casts his eyes from you to the road ahead. This late at night it’s less busy, and the two of you keep hitting greens. There’s some nightlife starting to appear, but inside his car, with you, it’s like a vacuum of quiet and peace. After a beat of silence he leans and starts fiddling with the radio until it lands on something familiar. You hum.

“I like this song.” “Me too,” he says, and that earns him another one of your looks and grins. Something inside of him softens every time, replacing a small piece of the ache he had been feeling all night. “This is nice,” he admits, after another couple blocks of silence.

“Worth me dragging you out of bed?” you ask, pleased.

He winces at that, though you don’t see it. “Yeah,” he breathes. He thinks, against his better judgement, of how much his teammates had tried to cheer him up after, despite their own disappointments. He hadn’t wanted to hear any of it, just wanted to feel sorry for himself for missing that last ball. You’re doing the same now, trying to cheer him up. He can tell you’re trying hard, unsure of what to say. Afraid you might say something to make it worse. His guilt, already sharp inside of him, doubles over. He closes his eyes. Swallows.

“‘M sorry,” he says, finally.

“Why are you sorry?” He can hear real confusion in your voice. Atsumu rubs at his eyes.

“For makin’ you do this. For bein’ in a bad mood tonight.”

“What?” The word is so incredulous he’s forced to look at you. “Are you kidding me?”

Atsumu curses the fact that his mouth trembles. “No, I, uh.” He clamps his mouth shut before his voice can break. Damn it all, he really didn’t want to cry in front of you. You’re alternating between staring at him in disbelief and trying not to crash the car. “Just—it was bad for me tonight and I know it’s not easy for you to—”

You’re shaking your head before he can even finish his sentence. “Atsumu, baby, no.” You’re aghast. “What? What’s making you say this? I want to comfort you. I want to be here for you. Of course I do, that’s not even a question, is it?” At his silence, you prod again. “Is it?”

The thing is, it is, and the realization of it seems to be hitting the both of you at the same time.Atsumu has lived his life feeling difficult. He knows he’s been difficult. He knows he’s a mess when he fucks up a game. He knows he gets jealous easily (though he tries his best not to show it), and he’s irrational sometimes. He had first asked you out half as an irrationality, half as a joke, not believing you would actually accept him. He remembers the way you had looked at him then, with a laugh and then a patient smile that saw straight through all his veneers.

But hadn’t it all been a matter of time? Until he lost a game like this, and spiralled like he did, and you decided he was too much? The sound, again, of that referee whistle, a ball thumping just out of reach.

“Shit, this is not going how I thought it would,” you say, dragging him from his dark thoughts just as you had dragged him from sinking into your bed. He blinks at you.

“What do y’mean?”

Your expression is wry. “This is supposed to be making you feel better, not worse.” “I’m sorry, I—”

“Atsumu,” you’re laughing his name without mirth. It’s regretful. “No, you don’t have to apologize to me. And this isn’t about comforting me right now.” You’re saying all of this with your eyes trained on the black asphalt ahead. “I only meant…” you let out a breath. “I only mean that you don’t ever have to worry about me being here for you. Of course I’m going to be here for you. It’s—It’s all I want.” You swallow, looking nervous suddenly, fidgety in your seat. Atsumu is frozen still.

Yes, Atsumu has lived his life feeling difficult. But now you’re sitting with him on the driver’s side of his car, upset that he’s upset and trying not to show it. There’s a song that he loves playing, and you’re driving him nowhere and he understand, suddenly, that you’d drive him around all night if that’s what it took to make him feel better. He realizes that you’re doing this all for him. And that nerve of being the difficult twin, the difficult player, the difficult partner is exposed in front of you, and it doesn’t matter—it doesn’t matter.

No one has ever taken care of him like this. Atsumu feels like a little boy again, completely out of his depth, being shaken by something that feels impossibly larger than him. He’s seeing you so clearly right now, in your t-shirt and baggy jeans, and nothing has ever looked so beautiful to him in his life. He’s almost overwhelmed with the need to tell you this. He touches your arm.

“Sorry,” you murmur. “That came out more dramatic than I wanted it to.” You’re trying to be light with him again, trying to comfort him.

“Hey,” he murmurs. His throat feels thick, his words come out sticking. “No. Thanks.” And then, aware of how terribly inadequate those words are, he tries again. “Really. I mean it. This is everythin’.”

You shoot him a smile that he sees is relieved. “I’m glad. I was worried I was messing this up.”

His brows crease. “You’re not messin’ anythin’ up.” He’s the one messing things up.

You’re immediately embarrassed. “No, no. I didn’t mean it like that. I just,” you let out a flustered little laugh that pierces him. “I guess I just realized that I don’t know how to make you feel better when you get down like this. You always know what to say to me, and I didn’t know what to say to you, and…yeah…” you trail off when you glance at him and see his expression.

Atsumu’s confusion momentarily blocks out his self-pity. “Sure y’do.”

“Well I know them now. But only after a very illuminating text thread with your brother.” You give him a quick look. “Is that weird?”

An unfamiliar emotion has a chokehold on your boyfriend. He feels like he can barely get the words out. “You talked with ‘Samu?”

Another nervous laugh. “Yeah.” You sigh at the traffic and lean back, turning your head to look at him. “What?”

Atsumu can’t stop staring at you. “Nothin’,” he manages. Something chaotic and strange is happening in his chest. There are little pieces of you inside of him, coming together, spinning to centre, snapping into place so that he can see the clear picture of his feelings. You’re looking at him curious and bashful and he is wordless. Of course. Of course. There is still the loss in him, of course, but something else now, too. Something that feels more important, sharper, keener. For a flash of a moment, he panics at the recognition of it, but then he looks at you again and knows this isn’t something he can turn away from.

The funny thing is, everyone had thought Atsumu would be the one to break your heart. He had always been irritated in the moment, but in hindsight now, Atsumu could almost laugh at the hilarity of it. You’re holding him beating in your hands. He’s the only one at risk of a broken heart here.

“Hey,” he starts, the word slipping out of him without even meaning to. But he can’t finish. He is perilously aware that he is standing on the ledge of a moment, and if he takes the next step out there is no going back. This moment used to terrify him in relationships, and he used to run away from it. He’s terrified now, but it’s a new sort of terror.

“Can we—can we pull over?” He asks.

You spare him a worried look. “Everything okay?”

“Please,” he says. Giving him another look, you nod. You wait for an opening, merge, and then turn into a quiet, dead-end street.

Break, park, engine off. The second the key is turned Atsumu is pulling you into his arms. He’s aware of how tight he’s holding you, your little breath and laugh as he feels your fingers stroking against his back in comfort. His whole body is trembling, practically bursting with the need to put his feelings to words.

He presses his mouth against the side of your head, and murmurs the words into your hair.

You tilt your head. “Hm?” You try pulling back slightly to hear him better, but Atsumu’s not letting you. He can’t let you go. “Atsumu—what?” You’re laughing softly again, trying to detangle yourself from him. He only squeezes you closer.

“You were the only person I wanted to see after we lost,” he says, which were not the words he had murmured, but from the way you’re pulling back and looking at him, he sees that you understand.

“Atsumu, I—”

“Wait. That’s not what I said. I said I—fuck—I think I love you.” Then he shakes his head. This is not another thing he’s messing up tonight. “No, no, I know it. I know. I’m in love with you.”

You tense with revelation in his arms, heart in your throat. “Atsumu,” you try again, but he hushes you with an urgent kiss, open-mouthed and needing. He’s never needed something so badly than to kiss you in that moment. “‘Tsumu—” “Wait, wait,” he says, breaking apart from you, breathing hard. “I just gotta say this first.” You’re staring at him with wide, wet eyes. “I just gotta say that—listen, I always wanna be there to comfort you too, ‘kay? And I, I love you, and thank you, thank you for seein’ me and still bein’ with me and—” He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but it won’t go down.

“Please, can I say it back now?” You’re almost laughing the words, or shaking with them. You reach up with unsteady hands to hold his face. Atsumu is mouth-parted and heart-thundering. He nods, wordlessly. “Oh my god, Atsumu, I love you too. I love you too.”

He’s meeting your words with his mouth again, hungry to catch them on his lips. This kiss feels as endless as a long stretch of road, as endless as a night drive. When the two of you finally pull away from each other, you’re both breathless and grinning. He’s still trying to lean into you for small kisses, but eventually you have to turn away, laughing.

Your hands return to the steering wheel hesitantly. Atsumu adjusts his seatbelt. He’s looking at you, heart and hope in eyes. “And for the record,” he says, voice rough, “y’know exactly how to make me feel better.” Your mouth wobbles. “Should I, uh, do you want me to keep driving, then?” you ask. Atsumu watches you turn the key in the ignition. He has an image in his mind, suddenly, not of his loss, not of his disappointment, but of sitting in this car with you when dawn breaks.

“Yeah,” he says, and places his hand on top of your for just a moment. “I could go all night.”

#atsumu x y/n #atsumu angst #atsumu x reader #atsumu scenarios #atsumu fluff #hq x fem!reader #fem!reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyū!!#haikyuu atsumu

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kodaiki · 2 years

Text

꒰ 3:30 P.M. ꒱ ❛ miya atsumu x single mom!reader ༉‧₊˚✧

“thank you so much, you don’t even understand how grateful i am-” you rush out your gratitude as you approach the smiling pair of boys, one much older than the other, sitting at a storefront table in front of a rather known restaurant.

“y/n, ‘ya don’t have to thank me-“

“-my boss made me work overtime ‘cause one of my coworkers called out sick and there was no one to do his paperwork,” you continue your rambles as you finally reach them, hurriedly reaching for your son who’s making grabby hands at you to pick him up.

you’re still talking when he’s in your arms, patting his hair down and looking at him apologetically.

“y/n,” the voice repeats, sterner this time, making your words fall in your throat. you look over at the faux blond with rounded eyes. “take a breath before y’pass out.” a hearty chuckle sounds from the man as you let out a long sigh, mostly out of relief that you were able to depend on someone so much to pick up your kid from daycare.

“right,” you nod a few times, letting the jitters of nerves leave your body as you slightly hunch over, relaxing in place yet still gripping your son. “atsumu, tha-“

“uh!” he quickly cuts off, looking pointedly at you. “no thanking me. really, i’d pick up the little man anytime.”

a watery smile reaches your lips as you look back over at your son who seems to be lost at why you seem so frazzled. he simply seems content. it’s an even bigger blessing that he’s content in atsumu’s presence, too, since he’s a rather fussy baby around selective people.

it was at a grocery store when the world renowned athlete crossed paths with you; the fruits aisle, how romantic, you think back with an amused eye roll. well, better worded, it was when he crossed paths with you son.

your son was, to put it lightly, a wanderer. of course, you had your eye on him anywhere he liked to walk around whether it be home, the playground or the supermarket; that day, though, you were simply too far to stop him from tugging on the taller man’s pants and asking him to grab him some strawberries, saying stawbewies, peas.

you recall hastily pushing your grocery cart toward the exchange, one that the man didn’t seem to have an issue with by the way he grinned down at your kid, offering him a batch that was on the stand in front of him.

when you profusely apologized, he simply waved it off with a laugh.

“nah, that’s alright. little man just wanted strawberries s’all,” he’d smiled charmingly, finally making you realize how handsome of a man he was. at your nervous laughter and playful nudge at your son who’d been staring up at your with cute, doe -eyes, holding up the strawberries for you to take and place in the cart, atsumu watches the exchange fondly.

“i’m miya. miya atsumu,” he says, giving an introduction just as you’re about to bid him goodbye (and a thanks for not kidnapping your son, most likely), making you pause in place.

“miya atsumu as in…” you trail off, bringing a hand to your chin in thought. you know you’ve heard the name around before and judging by his build, you’re guessing he’s an athlete of some kind.

“the black jackals,” he finishes for you, eyebrows slightly raising in slight surprise.

you snap your fingers energetically. “ah, yes! that’s why your name sounded familiar.” you offer a light smile. “i’m y/n.”

that was your meet cute; a by chance crossing of paths all due to your son and his wandering legs. you don’t exactly recall how you and the man became friends, most likely by the other times you’d seen each other afterward at the supermarket, exchanging greetings and maybe a few words.

soon enough, you were hanging out, seeing him on evenings you didn’t work and weekends he didn’t have practice or games to play. and, just like where the three of you were standing now, you spent an awful lot of time at the setter's brother's restaurant, where atsumu claimed he’d have the best lunch specials in addition to great deals from the family discount.

“did you guys eat something yet?” you ask worriedly. “if not, it’s on me.”

atsumu puckers his lips at the offer, looking pleased (although you’re still feeling bad about having him pick your son up from daycare) and shares a knowing look with your son. “food sounds good, huh bud?” to which your toddler lets out a sound of agreement and claps his hands.

atsumu doesn’t remember the exact moment he fell for you and your cute little family, but all he knows is that he’s not letting you out of his grasp anytime soon. were you just friends? hm, gray area, if atsumu thinks so himself, but that's better chances than being mere acquaintances.

what he does remember is how sick to his stomach he felt after your first exchange, berating himself for thinking you, a probably married woman, was so pretty.

but then came a time where he spotted no ring. and it wasn’t in a ‘i don’t wear a ring on this occasion’ sort of ordeal, you never wore a ring. obviously he never asked about it, he still had some manners, but thankfully he didn’t need to.

you opened up about your son’s absentee father after inviting atsumu to your place for the first time. it was obvious he’d witness that no man was living at your place, nor was there any sign of one in your life so coming clean about it was what you were most comfortable with.

not that you had to fear atsumu’s judgment, at that point , you felt rather safe being vulnerable around him. if you felt comfortable enough to have a man around your son, then you’d allow yourself to open up to that man.

maybe that was the moment everything changed; atsumu allowed himself to have those deeply buried feelings for you since now it known and open that you’re a single mother.

but with allowing atsumu to have feelings, much less romantic feelings, for a person, others caught on.

osamu was the first to notice, having seen you and the setter walk into his restaurant and share a meal, sometimes with your son if he wasn’t being babysat by one of your family members.

at first it was a mere tease that atsumu was going after a mom, making milf jokes here and there but when he couldn’t respond without a deep blush on his cheeks, osamu knew his brother was in deep. after all, he did witness the two of you together, the way you exchanged conversation and atsumu’s dopey smiles your way every waking moment; he’d fallen hard.

not to mention he’d talk about your kid whenever he could; getting excited when the toddler was interested in volleyball and asked the man to play with him (osamu can’t fight the grin off his face when he heard atsumu gush about the interaction, ‘cus seeing his brother like that? happy in a place that isn’t a hardwood floored gymnasium?)

his teammates caught on soon after osamu did, when atsumu brought the both of you to his practice one day – “little man wanted to see where i worked!” he’d announced, making his teammates exchange blank, yet at the same time, knowing glances. that was probably his favorite practice, atsumu thinks, chasing your son as he waddle-ran across the gym, shrieking out laughter as he held a mikasa volleyball in his little arms.

and then, in the split second glance he made your way – you chose to sit on a nearby chair, only interested in watching than getting in the way of the professionals work schedule (not that your son had the same moral compass you did, since he was, well, two and a half) – you make eye contact and seeing the smile on your face? his chest blooms with warmth.

it’s when you’re cleaning up your son and getting ready to leave and atsumu’s in his final huddle before he’s able to go when it’s confirmed.

“so y/n, huh?” bokuto brought it up first, lighthearted as he always is. “she makes you smile a lot.”

with some nods from the other teammates, atsumu chuckles. “yeah, she does.” there’s a beat that passes that has the other team look at him rather warily since, well, it’s not exactly normal for atsumu to be smiling this much. “i love ‘em both, though,” he reiterates, glancing at your son who’s busy swatting your affectionate hands away and giggling at your pouts.

so, now you’re well accustomed to his life as he is yours; except for daycare apparently, since you’re still fussy over the fact that you didn’t pick your son up.

as the three of you walk into the familiar restaurant, your son already waving his arms to get the owner’s attention, you can’t help but frown.

“y/n.” atsumu notices first as he pulls out one of the seat for you to sit at a vacant table. “it’s really alright, i dunno why you’re so stirred up about it.”

it wasn’t that you had an issue with atsumu picking your son up from day care, not at all! you trust him around your son as much as you do your own family, so you sincerely hope he’s not thinking that in his head.

it’s just, he’s never really been alone with your son and you don’t want to scare him off! sure, he’s watched your son while you left a room for a minute or two or while you went to find something in the grocery store, but never to the extent of picking him up from daycare, driving him home and caring for him for an hour or two.

you were seeing atsumu, yes? no? well, you certainly believe the threshold of friends was crossed long ago; whether it was the impromptu “dates” at osamu’s restaurant, the deep, doe eyes lovesick gaze the setter would give you, or the way he’d casually show skinship, either by brushing a piece of hair out of your face before gently caressing your cheek with the pad of his thumb or slyly holding hands/locking arms with you, those were all telltale signs that this … relationship was not solely platonic.

but you had a son. that was baggage to add onto a relationship and though atsumu loves your son and claims to enjoy every waking moment he has with him, you can’t help but fear if that’s all it is. just a fleeting thing.

because seriously, miya atsumu is a busy man. just imagine how much busier he'd be in an official relationship with you?

thus, whatever you have has no label. neither of you had a conversation about it, either because both of you felt that there was no need or in avoidance of an awkward subject in case the other didn't feel the same.

"i hate using up your time," you murmur out glumly, digging into your purse for a bib for your son who's shifting uncomfortably in the wooden kiddie seat beside you.

"you're not using up my time," atsumu counters with a deep frown. "i enjoy spending time with him, y'know?" at your averted gaze, he settles a warm hand over yours, hoping to get you out of your head.

when you're about to answer, a voice above you sounds. "can i getcha started with drinks?"

"samu, it's a bit rude to not even greet your own brother," atsumu says in a faux clipped tone, lightly scolding his twin who's standing before you, notepad in hand. "but yes, water's fine."

osamu snorts at his brother's words, lifting the hat on his head and using the fold of it to scratch at his forehead before settling it back on his head. "y/n, nice to see you," he greets instead, warm smile gracing his lips, even bringing a hand up to lightly ruffles your son's hair. "hey kiddo."

"hey osamu," you smile back, distracting you from the warmth of atsumu's hand that's still atop yours. "busy day?"

"busy enough, can't complain," osamu simply answers with a slight shrug. your attention drifts from the owner when your son starts to babble broken coherent words, making you grin over at him.

osamu looks over at the table, more specifically where you and atsumu's hands meet in the middle. when he raises a playful eyebrow at his twin, lightly smirking at him, atsumu says nothing. he used to get shy about that, every brush of your fingers being noticed by his teasing twin. atsumu's long past that, though, only relishing in any physical contact with you.

"i'll get your usual then?" osamu asks, already beginning to scribble down the order on the notepad.

"yes please," you answer. "and don't let your brother pay. it's on me today."

osamu simply crosses his arms, glancing over at his brother who shakes his head profusely. "y'know i can't let that happen," he drawls out, giving you a deadpan expression.

"'was worth a shot," you murmur out. it's okay, you'll take the bill and run around the restaurant to the register yourself if need be. osamu leaves your table be, off to head to the back, most likely to make your meals himself.

osamu makes your meals himself, enjoying cooking and preparing for those he cares about, even going as far as cutely decorating your sons meal with animal shapes and faces.

it’s over dinner that atsumu recalls the few hours he spent with your son. with how detailed he spoke, you’d think they spent the whole day together. still, you can’t help but listen with the widest grin on your face, watching t just how excited the man in front of you was.

when atsumu pays the bill – to your dismay, but there’s no arguing with the actual owner or the restaurant – he stubbornly - to walk you home. your son has become drowsy from the meal anyway so it would’ve been a bit of a hassle to get him. home without his stroller.

luckily for you, atsumu offered to carry him on the way.

“do you have an early practice tomorrow?” you ask curiously, glancing over at your son who’s a few minutes from passing out on atsumu’s shoulder. his chubby hand grasps at the material from his t-shirt, having no intention to let go anytime soon.

careful not to wake your son, he shakes his hand and swipes his tongue along his lower lip. “nope, tomorrow’s our rest day.”

you nod in understanding, briefly glancing over at him. “do you wanna come over? for just a few minutes?” your tone grows a little desperate and by the stare you have on your son atsumu can guess why.

“he’s gonna start crying as soon as I let him go, yeah?” there’s an amusing lilt to his voice but he’s being serious, too.

you nod again solemnly. “he hates it when you leave.”

“i hate it, too,” he mumbles earnestly, choosing not to read your reaction in case it’s something he doesn’t want to see.

atsumu’s grown a heavy attachment to your son, even in just the few months you’ve known him. he’d been there for your son’s second birthday and seeing the two of you in front of that cake (his brother’s a baker, too, would you believe that?), he knew he’d wanna be around for the rest to come.

your heart thrums against your chest at his words while your stomach does a somersault. when the pro setter says things like that, in that tone, god, the warmth you can’t help but feel. it’s like a buzz of electricity traveling down all your nerves and straight into your heart.

“of course i’ll come in.”

you enter your home quietly, as to not wake your son who’s progressed to drooling on atsumu’s shoulder, something he claims and promises not to mind, smiling when you whisper apologies on his behalf.

“you can set him down in his crib,” you gently instruct, pointing in the direction of his room – as if atsumu didn’t have your entire floor plan memorized by now. “i’ll be there in a second.”

“it’s you and me again, kid,” atsumu whispers as he walks to your child’s room. upon entering, he smiles fondly at the decorations and toys scattered around the floor, stuffed dinos, toy cars and atsumu’s favorite: a personalized msby merch plush laying in the crib.

prying your son from his arms proved to be a little difficult, needing atsumu to shush your son when he began to stir and grasp at the man more firmly. “hey, i’m not goin’ anywhere.”

your son, mostly asleep, settles on holding atsumu’s finger as he’s set down in his bed, laying flat on his back. atsumu doesn’t mind, leaning an arm against the top of the crib’s gate, providing support for his leaned over position.

you enter the room a few seconds later with a warm bottle in hand, expecting a fussy baby, but to your surprise, seeing the opposite.

your expression softens at the sight of atsumu hunched over the wooden crib, gently swaying your son’s fist a latched on his pointer finger.

it’s safe to say, you’ve also grown an attachment to the setter before you. he materializes in your mind any given moment of the day, whether it be while you’re at work, at home or playing with your son. your son is your number one priority of course, but miya atsumu has completely and utterly consumed your mind.

maybe the big reason you walk around talking about what you two were exactly was because of fear. you always were afraid of receiving an answer that would take the man out of your son’s life – given that it’s not the first man to walk out on your son, the thought is terrifying!

but it’s also fear of being walked away from as well. not only your son, but you, too. let’s say he feels the same, there’s still the possibility that it doesn’t work out and you’re left again and you have to pick up your pieces yourself, just as you did the last.

you don’t think atsumu could purposefully break your heart like your ex had but there’s still so much at stake.

for once you just want to see your situation as it is: a single mom who met a man who accepted her and her son with big, open arms. why couldn’t you look past you innermost gaslit thoughts?

you take another look at the man in front of you, someone who still isn’t aware of your presence behind him.

falling in love again is scary. after being so vulnerable with a person only to be brought down to your lowest, it’s hard being vulnerable again.

but miya atsumu is different.

he isn’t like your ex. he defies all the thoughts you’ve been so fearful of this whole time. you’re not even officially dating – hell, you’ve never even kissed the man – and he treats you and your son better than his father ever had.

“atsumu?”

the hardest part of falling in love is the jump that comes with it.

“i’ve almost got out,” the man whispers, referring to the finger he’s slowly getting free from your son’s weakening grip. after a few seconds, he’s released, and he stands up straight, turning to face you.

the jump is scary, a big leap into unknown territory.

“thank you for everything,” you say, taking a step toward him.

“i mean, all I did was put him down in his crib, so no worries,” atsumu smiles bashfully , scratching the back of his neck.

“that’s not what i meant.” but if jumping meant doing it with atsumu, for atsumu, you think it’s well worth it. “i mean everything.”

he blinks at you, taking a second to register your words and then he nods again. “of course. i care ‘bout ‘ya. both of ‘ya.”

you smile at that. “we care about you, too. my son, he loves you,” you gush, suddenly feeling heat rise up your neck. “and i,” you whisper, quickly looking down from his wide stare. “i love you, too.”

there’s silence for a moment, yet you don’t spiral like you originally thought you would’ve. you think it’s because deep down, you’ve always known:

“‘ya do?” atsumu asks, brows dipping considerably as a pout reaches his face. when you nod, he quickly closes the gap between you two and holds your face in his larger hands. “god, i love you both so much.”

and when you kiss for the first time, you realize, as atsumu’s hands tremble against your jawline, he also had the same spiraling thoughts in his head about the situation, too.

it’s a breath of fresh air when your lips detach and his forehead leans against yourself and his breath dana your lips. “i don’t think you know how long i’ve been waiting to hear that.”

you chuckle at that, cheeks flushed and warm. “i’m sorry it took me a while to say-“

“don’t apologize,” he murmurs. “i’m just happy i got to hear it at all.”

atsumu doesn’t stay at your place for a few minutes like you’d asked. he stayed for a few more hours, waiting for the moment your son woke up to let him know it’s an official promise him that he’ll be in his life as long as you let him.

ʚїɞ reblogs and interaction appreciated! ʚїɞ

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