HAIKYUU BOYS WHEN THEY TALK ABOUT YOU AFTER A FIGHT
request: “overhearing them talk about you after a fight. Like they’re pissed and ranting and don’t mean most of the shit they say. Maybe he says he wishes you weren’t together or that your too clingy/needy/annoying. And you just completely pull back. Avoid talking too much just not being you and they notice and think you want to breakup bc ur distant”
genre: angst to fluff
characters: miya atsumu, miya osamu, iwaizumi hajime
a/n: this is from 🌙 anon, hey babe you gave me a couple of ideas but i picked this one ahaha it’s a pretty common one but it’s a classic so i had to !! hope you liked it <3 also ty momo and mai for helping me think of ideas cuz i lack creativity dhdjsjfjfn
Things between you and Atsumu had been on edge recently, and your latest argument hadn’t helped in the slightest. And while you were trying, it was tough to juggle university, work, and attending each of his games throughout the week, but he’d had a hard time understanding the crushing weight of your stress, opting to take the petty route instead.
“Ya know what, y/n, it’s fine. Ya want ta miss another damn game? Go for it, don’t need ya ta come anyways,” Atsumu huffs at you, shaking his head as he storms off, leaving you with your head in your hands and your laptop glaring back at you with your assignment. Sniffling into your palms, you felt the guilt eat away at you for not being able to support him through his career like you wanted to, so you wiped your face and got to work.
It took you hours of typing away at your screen, not letting yourself take any breaks, but you’d finally reached a good place to stop, having been productive enough to be able to spare yourself enough time to attend his game. Smiling to yourself, you got up to make your way to Atsumu, but you paused when you overheard your name as he spoke to the phone in the kitchen.
“Y/n’s missin’ another game, cos all that matters anymore is them. Can ya believe it, Samu? Spendin’ all their time havin’ fun datin’ an athlete, but when it comes down to it, they don’t wanna come be supportive. Don’t know what I’m even doin’ here anymore,” he muttered the second part, making you freeze. Eyes welling up with tears, you hugged yourself as they silently streamed down your face, stress of the week crashing down on you along with the hurt of your boyfriend’s harsh words. Quietly, you made your way to your bedroom, no longer hungry or in the mood for dinner.
Meanwhile, Atsumu’s gut pooled with guilt as his twin berated him for his words, heart clenching at what he’d said about you. It was a moment of frustration, but it was low all the same, and he regretted it deeply. Deciding he’d go find you, Atsumu began his attempt to be better to you, realizing he’d been unfair.
“Hey, baby,” he whispers. He sees you laying in bed, curled up and facing away from him side, unlike usual when you’re in bed waiting for him. “Don’t ya wanna eat, angel? Ya should have dinner before bed, ya know,” he says softly, sitting beside you. He can make out the red and puffiness of your eyes, and his heart sinks, thinking you’d been crying from the earlier argument. His thumb moves to trace your cheek but you flinch.
Atsumu’s heart drops.
“I’m not hungry,” you mumbled, voice dry. Running a hand through his hair, he looks to the side, unsure how to fix things.
“‘M sorry, y/n, didn’t mean ta be so mean ta ya, ‘m tryin’ ta be more understandin’. I get ya—”
“I’m also tired,” your voice cuts him off dryly, shuffling to face away from him. His blood runs cold when he hears you mumble your next words. “Don’t know what you’re even doing here anyway,” you mutter. His eyes widen and his mouth drops.
You couldn’t have heard. But you did, and Atsumu’s mind starts to race with thoughts of you walking out, and he feels himself shatter, panic clawing at him with a vice grip.
Frantically trying to get you to face him, Atsumu’s heart feels like there’s a gaping hole when you shove his hands off of him, turning to face him with a cold glare.
“Y/n, listen,” he whispers softly, but you cut him off.
“No, it’s okay. You don’t wanna be here, you don’t have to be, you can show yourself out in the morning. Don’t wanna keep a star athlete tied down to me,” you snarl, making his lips quiver. Blinking back tears, he tries to hold your hand, but once again, you snatch your grip away from his, scowling at him. But he can make out the hurt in your eyes so clearly.
“Baby, please, ya know I didn’t mean it,” he whispers. Instantly, you sit up, making his breath hitch as he stares at you. A tears runs down his cheek when you laugh bitterly.
“This whole week, this whole entire week I’ve been losing my damn mind to stress. While you’re having the time of your life being a fancy little athlete, I’ve been living my own life, Atsumu,” you snapped. He felt more of his heart crumble when you called him by his first name instead of your usual nickname. “And you’ve sat here and made me the bad guy for that. Do you hear me complain to my friends when my boyfriend can’t even spend one morning in with me because he’s too busy leaving for workouts and practice? No. Because I’m not selfish like you. So you can go ahead and leave—”
“But I don’t want to,” he whimpered, more tears running down his cheeks. Your heart aches a little for him, but more than anything, you were exhausted. Exhausted from being overworked, exhausted from trying your best, exhausted from being drained by the very person who should’ve made you feel better, and exhausted of screaming about the same thing over and over again. Shrugging, you, lay back down, turning so your back faced Atsumu once more.
“Whatever.” Sniffling, Atsumu molded his body around yours, clutching onto you tightly, tears hitting your neck as he sobbed silently.
“A-are ya really… are ya gonna a-actually make me go? We can… we can fix this y/n, I promise!” He hugged you tighter when you didn’t say anything, breath becoming more labored at the image of you making him pack his bags the next morning and go your separate ways.
He couldn’t bare that.
“‘M sorry! Really, I am, I know… ‘m not perfect, yer so outta my league, yer the one that shouldn’t be here, but… baby ‘m sorry. Promise. I’ll be better, okay? D-don’t make me leave, please don’t,” he whispered. Still, you said nothing. “Y/n?” His voice broke at the end, and along with it, so did your heart, making you cave. This was all you’d wanted, for Atsumu to simply understand how tired you’d been.
Turning, you held your arms open, making him instantly dive into them, clutching your tightly. Rubbing his back softly, you kissed his forehead.
“You know I don’t want to miss them, right?” Nodding, he buried his face into your chest.
“I know,” he whispers. Sighing, you stroke through his hair, pulling him impossibly closer.
“I try my best Tsum, but I don’t live in the same world as you. You gotta understand that, okay? I love you, I try my hardest to make it to every game, but I can’t. I just can’t, baby.” Looking up, his eyes stare into yours, glossy and wide.
“Just don’t wanna have ta live knowin’ ya’ll never come to one again,” he says quietly. You peck his nose, swiping away at a few stray tears with your thumb.
“You won’t, okay? I love you.” Digging his face back into your chest, he hugs you tightly, relaxing when you fingers gently threaded through his locks, scratching his scalp soothingly.
“Love ya too, ‘m sorry,” Atsumu mumbles, laying in your arms as you gently lull him to sleep for the night.
Osamu slams the door behind him angrily and stomps to your room, taking his jacket off and throwing it somewhere in the distance. Running his hand through his hair, he tries his best to calm down, you coming into the room behind him with a scowl on your face.
You’d spent all of last night arguing, and it’d carried over to errands you both had been running today, specifically grocery shopping. Osamu had been increasingly snappier as he figured out the ins and outs of opening a new branch, and you’d tried your best to tip toe around his meltdowns, but you’d had enough of the attitude. The last straw was when he’d opted to give you the silent treatment while you tried to grocery shop, ending up with you both having a mini argument in the middle of the store.
“I can’t believe you’re making this so large, Osamu,” you spit, making him turn his head to you abruptly. His knuckles are white from his fists clenching, and he grits his teeth at your words.
“Yer kiddin’ me, right?” He gives you a hallow chuckle, no trace of amusement as he shakes his head and marches past you, leaving to go be by himself in the living room. With an exasperated sigh, you sit down for a bit, collecting your thoughts and trying not to let your anger for your boyfriend boil any further.
After some time, you decide to swallow your pride and apologize, figuring he’d been dealing with enough stress as is. Today as a rare day off for him, and you’d wanted it to be relaxing for him, and a good opportunity to spend time together.
But you’re quickly stopped in your tracks when you hear his voice as he speaks into his phone.
“And y/n’s not makin’ this any easier. Ma damn heads just about to explode, they can’t ever appreciate anythin’ I do. ‘M tryna ma darn best to juggle two restaurants and an ungrateful partner, what else do I gotta have on ma plate. I swear, y/n always has ta pick the worst times ta be annoyin’,” he rants, making your face drop and your heart clench. Beginning to doubt yourself, you slowly make your way back to your room, too scared to face Osamu in fear of making him even more stressed.
Osamu feels himself get toppled by the guilt as soon as he hangs up, thinking back to how patient you’d been with him during his mood swings, realizing that had the roles been reversed, he’d have lost his mind from being snapped at so often. Head hung low, he curses himself for speaking lowly of someone as precious to him as you, making his way to the kitchen to get dinner started as a means to make it up to you.
But forty five minutes later, he calls for you and receives no answer. Frowning, he makes his way to your bedroom, watching your mindlessly scroll through your phone as he stands at the doorway.
“Y/n, dinners ready, ya know,” he offers. You simply shrug.
“Okay, I’ll eat later.” Furrowing his eyebrows, he walks up to you, sitting beside you in bed.
“Don’t ya wanna eat now? ‘M hungry,” he insists. Again, you simply shrug, not daring to look up and meet his eyes.
“Whatever, Samu, I’ll eat later. You can eat without me,” you huff. You can’t understand why he’s so insistent to eat with you when your presence seems to put him so on edge. With a deep sigh, you finally look up at him. “Can you just go keep to yourself? I don’t wanna keep annoying you during bad times, okay?” Mouth agape, he stared at you in shock for a few moments before blinking to collect himself.
“Y/n, baby, ‘m sorry ya had to hear that—”
“No, you should be sorry you spoke to someone about me like that. If I bother you, I’ll keep to myself,” you mumble. “You don’t have to worry about me being ungrateful, I’ll just stay in here till you’re less stressed.” Osamu stares at his hands for a bit in shame, trying to think of how to best articulate to you he didn’t mean the words he’d rambled in his moment of rage. All that comes out is a whispered apology.
“‘M really sorry,” he whispers, grabbing your hand. You offer no response, scrolling through your phone with the other. Carefully, he comes closer, hesitantly laying his head on your chest, hugging you close. “I just… I don’t know how ta deal with the pressure, ‘s a lot. Didn’t expect it. ‘M messin’ it all up, even things with ya,” he confesses, voice small. “Didn’t mean it, I swear. ‘M really sorry.”
Finally, you sigh, carding your fingers through his hair, pulling him in closer. His face instantly finds your neck, clutching onto you tightly.
“You need to manage your stress better, Samu, you snap at me too much,” you mumble.
“I know,” his voice whispers.
“It’ll be okay,” you promise, kissing his forehead. “Let’s go have dinner, we can talk about it after.” Shaking his head, he grips you tighter.
“Wanna stay like this for a bit.” Smiling softly, you kiss his forehead again, settling down with him in your arms.
Iwaizumi had woken up on the wrong side of the bed for what seemed like the millionth time this week. As much as he wanted to spend time with you, he simply couldn’t find it in him to enjoy being around you, or anyone for that matter. So, he’d spent the days out, keeping to himself and getting errands done while you patiently waited for him.
He’d barely responded to texts, missed out on meals together, and hadn’t spent time with you unless it was to sleep in bed beside you. You couldn’t help but get the wrong idea.
“God, for the last time y/n, I’m not tired of you, can you quit bringing this up again,” Iwaizumi groans, rubbing his face as he slumps onto the couch. Hugging yourself, you stand there, looking down at your feet and you shuffled around.
“Well, you don’t really seem to wanna be around me much and—”
“I’m busy,” he cuts you off. This time, irritated, you roll your eyes, looking at him with a glare.
“Well, it takes two to make a relationship work, and I still do my part when I’m busy. Quit running away—”
“I am not in the mood for this,” he cuts you off loudly, glaring at you with equal harshness, making your shoulders sag and eyes water. With a soft sigh, you simply turn around, giving up on the conversation and heading to your room.
You debate for the next hour what you could’ve done to have made Iwaizumi avoid your presence so much, and before you can help yourself, doubts begin to creep up and haunt you. You can’t help but wonder if he’d grown less and less fond of the idea of being with you, and before you can stop yourself, you rush out of your room, ready to find your boyfriend to try and have the conversation one more time.
But your heart is even more wounded when you hear his voice, your name tumbling past his lips, laced with bitterness rather than the usual sweet tone.
“And y/n is being so damn insecure about everything, no matter what I do, it’s always gotta lead back to them somehow. I’m just tired, I wanna be along, and all they’re on about it spending more time together, don’t I get enough from living with you?” Your ears and face burn and your hands clutch the edges of your shirt as you walk back to your room instantly, feelings too hurt to face him, embarrassment filling you from hearing the way your boyfriend had spoken about you to someone else.
Iwaizumi pauses when he hears the bedroom door softly shut, instantly realizing you must’ve heard. Quickly, he makes an excuse to hang up, hesitantly making his way to your bedroom, suddenly crushed under the weight of his overwhelming guilt.
Trudging into the room, he offers you a tight smile, one you don’t reciprocate. Sighing, he sits at the foot of your bed, fiddling with his fingers.
“I bet you heard that, huh?” Shrugging, you stared down at your lap.
“I guess,” you whisper.
“Do you not love me anymore? Because then I don’t wanna waste my time somewhere I’m not wanted,” you cut him off, voice small, eyes welled with tears as you refuse to meet his own. Iwaizumi’s heart beats rapidly in his chest, panic arising at the thought of returning home with your belongings gone. With a harsh shake of his head, he comes closer, trying to grab your hand. You don’t let him.
“God no, baby, I’m sorry, okay? I just—”
“It’s whatever, Hajime,” you whisper, making his breath hitch. “Sorry I was so insecure, I bet that was annoy—”
“No, I’m sorry for not giving you any effort. I bet that was annoying. I’m… I’m really sorry,” he pleads. You don’t answer, and he feels himself slowly lose more and more composure. “Baby,” he whispers. “Can you say something? Please?”
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say,” you mutter. “I don’t know what you want from me, or with me, or what I’m doing here anymore.” Taking a shaky breath, he grabs your hand, squeezing tightly.
“Just say you’ll let me fix it and I’ll show you why you’re here,” he pleads, voice wavering a bit. Squeezing again, he brings your hands up to kiss your knuckles, looking at you with wide eyes, pleading for you to say what he desperately wants to here. “Trust me, I’ll fix it.”
“You’ve been avoiding me all week, what was I supposed to think?” Nodding, he shuffles closer, eyes begging you to let him nearer.
“I know, I know, and I’m—”
“And then you spoke poorly about me to someone like it was my fault. How’s it on me that you can’t communicate?” Lips wobbling, he clears his throat, trying to fight back the tears at the thought that this could be the moment you walk out on him.
“I’ll be better for you,” Iwaizumi croaks. “I promise I will, I’ll be better about talking to you and I’m sorry I said those things, I didn’t mean them. I promise.” He continues to stare at you with wide eyes, making you bite your bottom lip. With one last heavy sigh, you reach over and cup his cheek.
“Okay, you better fix it then,” you murmur. “You can’t just disappear like that,” you warn. Nodding, he pulls you into his arms, resting his cheek on your head, sighing when he feels your hand trail up and down his chest.
“I know. Im sorry,” he whispers, kissing your head gently.
reblogs are really appreciated !!
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a day in the life of sakusa kiyoomi—(featuring you, his wonderful lover)
atsumu’s part here
“Let go, y/n. I gotta.”
“Come on, don’t be a brat,” he groans.
“If you love me, you’ll stay.” Sakusa sighs, pecking your forehead softly, hand gliding over your back as he feels you against him. It’s warm and it’s home, and he’s almost tempted to stay glued to you.
“I have to go jog, I’ll be back,” he mumbles, unlatching himself despite your hands attempting to claw their way back to him. “Stop that, you’re—hey! Don’t smack my ass, weirdo.”
And even though his cheeks are tainted red and he’s thoroughly embarrassed, he grins to himself when he walks to the bathroom and hears your giggles.
“Omi, quit picking at the calluses on your hands.”
“‘M not,” he denies through a quiet mumble, hiding his hands under the table with a pout.
The plate of breakfast placed before makes his heart flutter. Sakusa can’t stop the little chuckle he lets out when he sees the strawberries assembled into a little heart on the plate.
“And you’re a cliche sap,” he teases. And when he catches the spoon you throw at him, smirking when you groan at his athleticism, he almost considers skipping practice.
“Hurry and eat, you’ll be late.”
“I’m never late.”
“I don’t care, shut up and eat,” you huff. His chair scoots closer to yours when you settle next to him with your own plate.
“Y/n, y/n—oh my goodness—okay, that’s enough. I’ll be late—oh my god,” he groans through the onslaught of kisses you place on his face. He pretends he’s annoyed, but the blush and the wobble of his lips as he fights back a smile says otherwise.
Sakusa loves goodbye kisses, you’re no fool.
“Okay,” you peck his lips one last time. “There, I’m done. Now you may go.” He shuffles a little and stares at the ground, pout on his face.
“Ahem,” he clears his throat.
“You’ll be late, what are you—”
“You’re forgetting two things.”
“What?” He glares at you, and you glare back.
“First of all, you’re supposed to say I love you? What happened to that?” Rolling your eyes, you purse your lips at him with a raised brow.
“Kay, I love you. What else do you need?”
“Thank you, I love you too.” His eyes meet the floor again. “You missed a spot,” he murmurs quietly. And even though you laugh at him, and he scowls and shoves you away for a bit, you place two big kisses to his moles, sending him off.
“Omi, why’re ya smilin’ at yer phone like that?” Sakusa’s grin instantly drops, and his usual scowl graces his features. Atsumu tends to have that effect on him.
“Ooh! Are you talking to y/n? I love y/n! Tell y/n I said hi!” Bokuto’s voice is booming loud as ever—too loud for eight am on a Monday morning for him.
“No, you don’t need to say hi—”
“Tell y/n I said hi too!” He glares at a certain ginger instantly. He’s a bit annoyed that his last minute conversation with you before weight training is interrupted, but he doesn’t deny that deep down, he’s at home here too, surrounded by three loud mouths he can’t escape.
He shoots a quick message with a scowl on his face.
Bokuto and Hinata said hi
And Atsumu too he adds after the setter insists through whines.
And when he gets a tell them I said hi too! he can’t help but smile softly again—although it drops two seconds after when Atsumu opens his mouth once more.
“My shoulder hurts.”
“You slacked off on your stretches again, didn’t you?” He doesn’t meet your eyes as he unpacks his bento.
“No.” He did. And he knows you know, but Sakusa doesn’t like being scolded. Especially not on his lunch break.
“Yes you did, Kiyoomi,” you say sternly. And he pouts, unhappy with your tone.
“Don’t yell at me, I’m hungry, I don’t deserve this right now.” He pulls out the note you left him, scanning over the sweet message, noticing the little bunch of hearts on the bottom next to your signed name. He cracks a smile, turning the note to face you through the screen. “You’re a cliche sap part two.”
“And you’re an idiot who can’t take care of himself part two. Quit picking at your calluses and quit slacking on your stretches. Make sure you stretch longer before practice.” Sakusa glares at you through his phone, but his heart does a little squeeze at how you take care of him.
“Kay, whatever, you’re rude. Now tell me about your day so far.” He’s kept very entertained throughout his lunch break as he hears your rambles about trivial things.
“I’m home,” Sakusa calls out. Silence. With a frown, he calls out “I said I’m home,” louder this time.
“Oh my god, I’m coming, you’ll live if you’re not greeted in two seconds,” you huff as you emerge from the bathroom. But still, your hands cup his cheeks gently, pulling him into a searing kiss with a soft smile on your face.
“I could very well die,” he mumbles in between kisses, burying his head into your neck and pecking the skin there as your hands smooth through his curls. “Missed you.”
“Me too. Dinner’s gonna be ready in a bit, go shower,” you whisper.
“No, not yet.”
“Omi, we’ll cuddle after—”
“Yeah, but I wanna cuddle now.” Smiling to yourself, you rub over his shoulder, the one you know is sore, and he slacks more weight into you.
“Hey,” you whisper.
“I love you.”
“Yeah, I love you too,” Sakusa grins before tugging you along to your shared room, plopping himself on top of you in bed.
“And then I was spiking the ball, and I saw him just trip in the corner,” he snorts along with you, shaking his head as he recounts details from practice. “He thought no one noticed but I’m pretty sure everyone did.”
“I saw a kid trip at the grocery store today,” you chuckle. “I’m going to hell for laughing.” Sakusa cracks a large grin, poking your cheek with his index finger.
“You’re going to hell anyway.”
“So are you.”
“That’s why we’re a match made in heaven. Or hell. You know what? Both.” His hand finds yours under the table, squeezing it gently as your thumb rubs over his knuckles. “Oh yeah, I need a hair cut, remind me to make an appointment later this week.”
“No, Omi! It’s not even that long,” you whine.
“Yes it is, it gets in eyes when I go to serve.”
“Then wear clips. You look hot with longer hair,” you insist, making him scowl.
“No, that’s weird.” But he can’t help but sigh when your pout deepens, weak to his knees at the look. “Fine, I’ll do it like next week or something instead,” he mutters. The smug grin on your face makes him roll his eyes, but the brightness in your eyes fills him up to the brim with warmth.
“Can we go to bed now, love?” Sakusa yawns, nudging you from his spot on your chest. You hum as you scroll through your phone.
“What are you? An old man? Only grandpas head in for the night at eleven thirty.” He raises an eyebrow.
“You nap all day, you lazy brat. That’s why you’re never tired at night.”
“Excuse me, I did a lot of work today, don’t even start. A few smacks of a ball shouldn’t get you this tired.” He pulls the blanket over his body, huffing as he gets comfortable on top of your body.
“Fine, you stay up, I’ll sleep.”
“Omi, don’t sleep on me, you’re heavy.”
“Oh well,” he mumbles, already dozing off. You want to be mad, but he looks utterly beautiful in his sleep, cheek smooshed against your chest, face calm and at peace. He looks a few years younger, and you can’t help but smile to yourself, pushing back the hair from his face and kissing his moles.
“I guess your hair has gotten a bit longer,” you whisper. “Goodnight, Omi. I love you.” And Sakusa, as if he knows, smiles a bit in his sleep, humming contentedly.
He considers today a pretty good day.
reblogs are really appreciated !!
idk what this is sdjsjjsnd but it’s the most self indulgent thing i’ve written. this is me and omi, literally our dynamic. might even do an atsumu one now jsnsnsnsj
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