inomios

[inomios]

your name would sound even cuter with Miya behind

- Atsumu Miya x Reader

- SFW

"We should get married"

You pause sipping on your strawberry milkshake to look at your boyfriend, casually asking you to marry him from the opposite seat.

"I'm sorry" you say, clearing your throat "Did you just asked me to marry you?"

"Yeah, I did"

He has one arm on the table, his head leaning on his fist, and is looking at you like that time when he convinced you to ditch classes to go to the movies, just to end up confessing in the middle of the film neither of you was paying attention to. His hair is shorter now, and he's not the same boy that used to copy your homework anymore. He plays for the MSBY Jackal now. He's a volleyball star.

And he's still the same Atsumu, somehow.

You know it when you look into his eyes.

"You do know what getting married means, right?" you whisper, leaning towards him "It's like... when two people get together. Forever"

"I know that" Atsumu laughs, rolling his eyes at you "That's why I am askin' ya"

"Why?"

"Because I want to be with ya forever, isn't that like, obvious?"

You choke, heat rising to your cheeks. Even after all this time, he still manages to make you blush as easily as the first day.

"How can you say stuff like that?"

"Look" Atsumu sits straight to look at you seriously, even tho a smile is still dancing in his lips. His fingers drum on the table as he starts speaking again "I'm askin' ya to marry me, and you're kind of avoidin' the question here. Should I be worried or somethin'?"

"I'm just..." you try to look for any other word that's not 'wow' "What brought this on?"

Atsumu shrugs "I just think that you're really cute when ya drink your milkshake like that"

"Ahm... like that?"

'Yeah, like that" he explains "With the straw"

"Right"

"And then I just thought that I wouldn't mind doing this with ya for my whole life, ya know?" he keeps going, eyes scanning your face "I'm happy just right here with ya"

"You're more happy here than on the court?"

He snorts, fingers stopping "Yeah, don't push it babe"

The waitress comes in that moment, to clear the plates and to ask if she can also take your almost empty cup. You nod distractedly at her, eyes on your boyfriend.

"Atsumu..."

"So what do ya say? Do we get married?"

The girl picking everything up gasps, tray shaking in her arms, and her wide eyes snap back to you, waiting for whatever you have to say. You nervously smile, pushing a lock of hair behind your ear.

"Ahm... do you mind?" you ask her, and it actually takes her a couple of seconds to snap out of it.

"Oh my god, yes! I'm sorry" she quickly apologizes, running back behind the counter to whisper something in her coworker's ear.

You have a hunch of what it is.

"So?" Atsumu asks again "I probably have the record for the boyfriend that asked his girlfriend to marry him the most by now"

"I mean" you look around the cafeteria, trying to contain the bubbling excitement inside you because yes, of course a million times yes "I never imagined you would ask me in a place like this but..."

Atsumu nods, standing up, and excitement is quickly replaced with sudden panick in your chest.

Oh no.

"I get ya. Somethin' more epic would be better, right?"

"I don't know what..."

"Hey, everybody!" Atsumu claps, raising his voice to get the attention of the other people around. Every single head in the cafeteria turns towards your table, and you can only wish to be swallowed by your seat "Can ya all pay attention here for a moment?"

You can hear one of the waitresses gasping loudly again, and you're pretty sure someone from the table on the corner says something along the lines of 'Oh, I think that guy plays for the MSBY Jackal!'

"Atsumu, what are you doing?" you ask, eyes almost bulging out of your head when he snickers, and proceeds to kneel in front of you.

Kneel.

In front of you.

"I'm proposing to ya" he whispers, winking "Epic style"

"Atsumu! Get up!" you half whisper, nervous laugh breaking through. Everyone keeps paying close attention to what's happening with the two of you, and Atsumu shakes his head and asks for one of your hands.

You're trembling when he takes a hold on your fingers.

"Babe, I knew this moment would come since ta let me copy your Math homework one day, so I didn't had to miss practice to do it. Granted, I didn't think it would be in a place like this either, but this people don't really mind don't they?" when he turns around to ask, a voice that sounds suspiciously like it belongs to one of the waitresses screams 'No, we don't!', but you're too busy to check because your boyfriend is actually asking you to marry him. When he looks back at you, his smile is softer "But I just couldn't resist ya know? Why wait, when I'm just lookin' at you now and already see my future wife?"

Your eyes fill with involuntary tears in that moment, and you sniffle and laugh at the same time, squeezing his hand "Atsumu..."

"So yeah, what do ya say? In front of all this people here, would ya marry me? I know your name would sound even cuter with Miya behind"

"Yes! Of course I would marry you, you dork!"

You stand up to hug him, and he lifts you up to spin you around because of course, everything has to be epic now until the end.

Cheers erupt around you when you finally kiss, and he's tearing up a bit too when you lean back to smile at him.

"Ya really said yes, huh?" he asks, and you have to laugh at the thinly veiled disbelief in his voice.

"Of course I did!" you say, kissing him again "You still need to buy me a ring, tho"

He blinks at you, and then slowly moves to look for his wallet in one of his pockets. To your absolute disbelief, he pulls a small ring from inside, with a pear shaped diamond that catches the fluorescent lights above you.

Your mouth opens and closes multiple times at the sigh.

"Yeah, I should've probably give ya this when I was kneelin' down, huh?"

"How on earth did you had a ring like that in your wallet!?" you scream, and once again, your boyfriend shrugs as if it's actually not much of a big deal.

"I've had it for a long time. 'Samu helped me pick it" he says, and then pulls your hand towards him "I'm goin' to put it on now, alright?"

"Yes!"

You laugh and hug him again, and a couple of people actually take the time to come closer and congratulate you, before you exit the cafeteria, hand in hand.

"So yeah" Atsumu says, putting his sunglasses on "Let's get to it"

"What?"

He smirks down at you, lifting the hand where the ring fit perfectly "Ya don't really think I'm goin' to wait to make ya officially mine now that we have a ring and all, right?"

"But like..."

"Come on" he says, getting closer to give you a quick peck on the lips "Let's run, babe"

Kita is there to bring Osamu his usual rice delivery for the week, when the youngest Miya gets a sudden text message. He picks up the phone from the counter, scans the contents, and then goes back to counting bags.

Kita frowns "If it's someone important, I can wait"

"Nah" Osamu shrugs "It was just my brother"

"Oh. How is him?"

"He's well. Getting married"

Kita opens his mouth in disbelief "What?"

Osamu nods, same face expresion "Yeah. Today"

"Wait... what?"

🧣 RED Love Story Collection

Part IX - Next is Begin Again

[inomios]

❝cold showers❞ // atsumu miya

➛ SYNOPSIS: all hell breaks loose when your boyfriend takes it upon himself to use all the hot water in the middle of winter. 

» CHARACTER PAIRING: atsumu miya x reader

» WORD COUNT: 1.8k

» GENRE: post time- skip, aged up characters, MSBY time period

» WARNINGS: kinda suggestive (17+), and just some self indulgent domestic chaos that no one asked for

« masterlist || ao3 »

“Atsumu!” Your shriek echoes loudly off your bathroom walls as the water you have been previously standing under rapidly changes from a relaxing warmth to rival that of arctic temperatures.

It takes your boyfriend only seconds to leave his place on the couch where he had been watching reruns of his latest match to practically kick down the bathroom door.

“Sweetheart? What happened?!” The concern in his voice on another day would have melted you into a useless puddle, but right now you are freezing your ass off because of him - so you only defrosted ever so slightly. Once his brown eyes meet your own through the steam that’s quickly slipping out through the open doorway, you want to growl as his eyes distractedly lower from your face as his brain catches up with what he just walked in on.

Seguir leyendo

[inomios]

fake dating headcanons with atsumu, oikawa, and kuroo

ANON ASKED: “hi i really like your writing 🥺🥺 could i request fake dating with atsumu, oikawa, and kuroo? like they told their teams that they have a girlfriend but they dont lmao so they ask one of their classmates to pretend to be their gf so the team can meet her? and they end up falling for her along the way :)) i look forward to reading more of ur works!! 💖”

atsumu x f!reader, oikawa x f!reader, kuroo x f!reader

genre. fluff

warnings. language

word count. 6.3k

note. DAMN this one got away from me … 6.3k words for a headcanon post …… sorry anon i’m not sure if you wanted a long post but i mean, here we are lol 

note 2. had to repost because something was up with the tags lol i hope it works fine this time

ATSUMU.

- the team has a favorite twin and it’s osamu, we all know it

- one day after practice, the team finds out that one of the first-years managed to get a girlfriend

- most of the inarizaki vb team is single at that point in time so it starts a conversation about relationships

- somewhere in the conversation, aran says, “osamu, man. I can’t believe ya haven’t gotten a girlfriend yet. yer easily one of the best-looking people in the school.”

- osamu just shrugs, but atsumu’s like “huh??”

- “hey ‘samu and i have the same face. don’t cha mean that we’re some of the best-looking people in the school??”

- the guys in the locker room exchange glances

- aran‘s like “look, atsumu. don’t blow up on me or anything, but most girls don’t really want to date you.” (keep in mind that aran’s strictly speaking about the girls that aren’t a part of the miya twins fan club)

- “and why the hell not?”

- at this point, aran’s looking at literally everyone in the room and pleading with his eyes for help because he doesn’t want to start a fight with atsumu

- suna takes pity on aran and says, “hate to break it you, miya, but girls don’t want to date a guy who’s a massive asshole”

- now, atsumu could care less if the entire goddamn world thinks he’s an asshole, but it rubs him the wrong way that his teammates think that osamu’s a better catch than he is

Seguir leyendo

[inomios]

“today is the day, boys,” atsumu announces as he drops his bag on the floor by his desk. “today is the day.”

“the day for what?” osamu asks dryly. “are ya finally handin’ in a math assignment on time?”

atsumu flicks his brother on the forehead, rolling his eyes. “joke’s on you, scrub, cause thanks to my totally awesome tutor, i handed it in two days early.”

he leans in, lowering his voice to a whisper as he discreetly nods his head in your direction. “that’s what i’m talkin’ about.”

suna rolls his eyes. osamu groans loudly. “i told ya, don’t. or else we’re gonna have ta find a new setter.”

“ya know, i’m still offended by how ready you guys are to replace me. i’m a great set—”

“samu could do it,” suna suggests, completely ignoring atsumu’s pouting and nudging his twin with his phone. “we’re not losing our manager.”

“so if it comes down to it, you’d choose her over—”

“yes,” they both deadpan, osamu adding an, “you’re an abusive, tyrannical pig.”

(atsumu makes a note to eat the leftovers his brother has saved at home.)

“besides, she already turned you down the first time,” suna points out. “don’t you remember how awkward it was after?”

“that was four months ago!” he argues. so what if you’d shot him down embarrassingly fast the first time and it’d made the first out of town training camp awkward as hell? you hadn’t known him then, and yeah, maybe he’d jumped the gun a little by asking you out too soon. “i’m going to do it. no way she resists me twice.”

“this is such a dumb idea,” osamu’s traitorous ass starts laugh. even suna laughs, so for some reason, it makes atsumu laugh too.

“oh, it’s so dumb,” atsumu agrees with a chuckle before deadpanning, “but i’m still gonna do it.”

because he’d been taking it slow, being friends first. learning your likes and dislikes to arm himself with enough knowledge to make him a viable dating option. you’d even agreed to start tutoring him in math - every tuesday after school, just the two of you - so you were totally warming up to the idea.

“besides, she was sendin’ me signals all over the place yesterday after practice,” he informs them.

“what signals?”

“i asked if she had a boyfriend yet, and she said ‘no, atsumu, you’re the only one i want and i’m giving you permission to ask me out this time.’”

osamu’s brows furrow as he exchanges a glance with suna. “she actually said that?”

“well, not out loud,” atsumu huffs. why did everyone doubt him so much? “she said it with her eyes.”

another pair of groans. suna’s accompanied by a, “so she just said no.”

“I’m gonna do it anyway! watch!”

and so, the two second years are forced to watch as atsumu strides up to where you’re sitting, clearing his throat loudly as he slams a palm down on your desk, making you jump. they can’t hear what he’s saying, but the second they see finger guns, and you heave a larger than normal sigh, they’re both cringing.

“wow, this is really hard to watch,” osamu admits with a grimace, shifting uncomfortably in his seat as atsumu flashes a grin that’s too bright.

suna, of course, is recording the whole thing.

you’re seemingly saved when the bell rings, and the teacher walks into the class, prompting atsumu to return to his seat beside his friends.

“hey guys, i think i kind of blacked out or something, can either of you tell me what happened?”

_____

you’re a little surprised when osamu approaches you after class, bypassing all formalities and saying, bluntly,

“my idiot brother has a crush on you. he was tryin’ to ask ya out, that’s what that was before class.”

and yes, you know he has a crush on you (no normal human could shoot off so many math related pick up lines) but when he’d come up to you before class and mumbled a bunch of incoherent things and shot finger guns at you, you’d rightfully been a little confused.

“he was asking me out?”

osamu chuckles. “yeah, he was. he’s probably going to try again later.”

and he does.

(kind of)

atsumu comes up to you after practice, holding up his phone like some sort of trophy. “hey, i got my grade back on the assignment you helped me with.”

“oh yeah?” you smile, setting down your notebook. “how’d you do?”

the grin he flashes you is undoubtedly charming, making your heart flutter in your chest. “better than i would have if i’d just copied off of ‘samu’s dumb ass, so thanks for that.”

“just doing my job. inarizaki is going to need their star setter at nationals this year.”

“yeah,” he agrees, shooting a glare over his shoulder at his brother and suna before focusing his attention back on you. “so, uh, i guess i owe you one. you know, for all the tutoring and stuff. if you think of anything--”

“why don’t you buy me lunch sometime?” you suggest, biting back a small smile.

he blinks at you a few times, and you’re really not sure if he’s catching on. “yeah, sure! i can buy ya something from the vending machine sometime. what would you--”

“atsumu,” you sigh, placing a hand on his arm. “i want you to take me out on a date.”

his mouth falls open for a moment, and you think you must’ve short-circuited his brain. “hey, wait! i was supposed to ask that!”

[inomios]

Their Drunken Confessions

↳ pt.2 - Miya Atsumu x fem!reader

genre: fluff // cw: profanity

wc: 4.3k

Pinning after one person for a decade of his life, the most eligible bachelor falls drunk in public and almost spills the identity of his lover. With the sending of a drunken video, to the injury he pertains… Miya Atsumu comes to face a honest question: was the ten years worth the wait — even if it may require a season off from volleyball and a brutally swollen ankle?

hmmm guess who’s next ? ( ,: 

reblogs, likes, comments are always appreciated!!! i hope you guys enjoy ( ,:

sakusa // next 

Ever since Miya Atsumu made his debut as a professional athlete he’s made it clear that he was harboring feelings for a special someone. Always responding with the clique but mysterious four words that could pertain to almost anything, “I have someone special” — the handsome heartthrob just deemed in the top ten most eligible bachelors of the year… a man worth millions, and a man desired by thousands; Miya Atsumu, had always had his eyes set on one person, and one alone.

Seguir leyendo

[inomios]

only the necessities

feat. Atsumu

♡ a/n: hehe for @hopeful-and-dreaming

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

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

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

Seguir leyendo

[inomios]

Ties That Bind

Miya Atsumu x reader Royalty!au

Synopsis: Atsumu had everything and then it was all taken away. In the blink of an eye he watched his claim to the throne get handed off to his twin brother. In a desperate need for freedom, the young prince ventures into the Kingdom's Outer City where he meets a peculiar Baker. Through this meeting Atsumu uncovers just how different civilians view the nobility—to the point that it changes his life forever.

Word count: 13k

Warnings: violence, blood, strong language, Atsumu cries a lot

A/n: I have put my entire soul into this fic holy fuck. The amount of plot drafts I went through to find the story I wanted to convey is crazy. I love Atsumu and the silly thought of the twins competing for the throne was what sparked this (and good god did it turn into something else) Happy Halloween to all and I hope you enjoy!

If there was one thing a royal family could be blessed with—it was a child.

Even more so when that presumed child turned out to be twins.

Atsumu and Osamu, born princes of the Kingdom known as Arellia, did everything together. Even from a young age, the boys were inseparable; where one was the other was always close behind—hand clasped in his brother's as the pair raced through the extensive castle halls.

The older they grew the shorter and farther the days spent dashing through the gardens became. Both boys spent their time being molded into proper princes, Atsumu more so than Osamu. As the eldest and first born twin, Atsumu held a great title to his name. As a child he didn't quite understand how different his path would stray from his brother's; lengthy lectures about politics and foreign languages he'd yet to understand, replaced the time he had spent sneaking extra cookies from the kitchens for him and Osamu to eat in a hidden library corner.

It wasn't until Atsumu's early teen years that he'd truly understood why the servants and teachers would watch him with hopeful eyes, that he'd finally connect the reason for the amounts of pressure put on him during his younger years. He was their next king, the next young leader to rule over his family's kingdom.

Osamu didn't have that title. Yes the boy was taught the same subjects and policies as Atsumu, but the emphasis and importance was watered down; royalty he may be, but a future king he was not. And yet the brothers never resented each other for who was to sit on the throne, fate had decided which one would hold the responsibility—even if that decision was only separated by ten minutes.

Atsumu's ambition to master every subject forced upon him grew the day he realized what his life had been set up for him since birth. His hunger to perfect his teachings and honor his father as future king outweighed any goal he had previously set. The crowned prince of Arellia put his heart into his work and spent a majority of his life preparing for his predetermined future; everything lay before him, perfectly planned and never astray.

Atsumu's fingers quickly buttoned the pure white jacket a maid had put out earlier in the day. It was one of his favorites—a snowy color covered in extravagant golden accents and gems that made his dark hair stand out. Dressing for dinner was always a hassle in his mind; he already changed into at least three other outfits daily for his set tasks, it felt silly to throw on something completely new when he could very well put on the garb he had worn to breakfast. Atsumu heaved a sign as he finished the last button and quickly turned to the vanity tucked in the corner of his vast room.

The prince's brows furrowed as he scanned over the surface of the piece of furniture, his confusion only deepening as a certain golden object was absent from its usual resting place. He crossed over to the vanity—opening drawers and moving boxes in a silly hope that the circlet was hiding in plain sight.

"Looking for something?"

Atsumu turned in a startled manner, eyes wide as he blinked in surprise at the man with white and grey hair.

"Kita! Have ya seen—"

Before the brunette could even finish the sentence Kita produced a simple golden circlet from behind his back. Atsumu instantly sighed in relief as Kita handed him the missing item.

"Where did—"

"The stables, your highness," Kita spoke softly, "It seems y’still forget to retrieve it after yer afternoon rides on the grounds."

Atsumu hummed at Kita's words as he placed the ring of gold atop his head, rearranging his hair in the mirror and centering the circlet so the small ruby encrusted in the ore lined up neatly at the center of his forehead.

"Perhaps I should start keeping it in my room when I leave for the stables."

"I believe that would be a preferable decision," Kita said. The man met Atsumu's eyes in the reflection of the mirror, the brunette stopped his preening when they locked gazes. "You've been far too lenient with yer care for it."

A brief pout crossed Atsumu's face. The whereabouts of a simple circlet weren't as important as learning to run a kingdom; accessories could be replaced when lost or damaged, a kingdom is far more permanent. The prince pivoted on his heel, turning away from the vanity mirror and breezing past Kita with a smile.

"A crown is the least of my worries, Kita. Besides, I've been far too busy to keep track of somethin' so insignificant,'' Atsumu called over his shoulder, a smirk toying on his lips as he slipped out the door of his bedroom. Kita—completely unfazed by Atsumu—followed close behind the prince as he hurried his way towards the great hall.

"Weren't y’not just frantically searching yer room for said 'insignificant' object?"

Atsumu froze mid-step at Kita's response, his face scrunched up as he attempted to fabricate an excuse, but gave up as he watched Kita walk past him, an almost satisfied smile on the advisor's face due to striking the prince where he knew would hurt the most—his pride. Atsumu huffed in an irritated manner before speed walking to catch up with his friend.

Kita Shinsuke had been Atsumu's advisor, and trusted friend, for as long as he could remember. During his earlier years, Kita was more of a person to keep the young prince company and help him stay organized as he was whisked to and from every corner of the castle. Stripped from his life as a middle-class child, Kita was recognized for his strong work ethic and attention to detail and thus offered the opportunity to be trained as an advisor. Although he spent most of his childhood in his parents’ modest Inner City home, Kita truly felt more at peace visiting his grandmother, who lived in the Outer City surrounded by fields of flowers and rolling hills. Nowadays Kita was tasked with assisting Atsumu in any way he needed—which usually meant keeping the man on schedule.

The pair entered the extravagant Great Hall. Cream-colored walls stretched to form the large room with floor-length glass doors lining the left side; each one led to a stone landing whose stairs would bring you straight into the rose gardens that spread out before them. The High ceilings were lipped with golden moldings, each swirling in intricate patterns that directed straight to the crystal chandelier centered in the room—the fiery lights from early sunset passed through the gems and caused spots of rainbows to dance across the walls in welcome. In the center of the room was a long birch wood table with chairs dotted around it; at the far end of the table, five places were set for dinner, one of them being filled by an identical version of Atsumu biting into a tart, most likely snagged from the kitchens before his arrival.

Kita bid Atsumu goodbye and slipped through one of the hidden doors behind a tapestry of a golden fox, probably down to the common area the servants gathered in for their meals. Atsumu made his way towards Osamu and plopped down in the seat beside his brother. The younger twin said a muffled greeting through a mouthful of food.

"Don't let Ma see you eating that," Atsumu teased, "She'll go on one of her rants about spoilin’ yer dinner."

Osamu eyed his brother, swallowing the last bit of the berry tart and brushing away the evidence of crumbs from his lips.

"Her and Dad are in some meeting about those attacks on the trade roads toward the Inner City, so unless y’say anything there's no way she'd find out."

A shitty smile spread across Atsumu's face—one that already had Osamu dreading whatever his brother was planning to say during dinner. As quickly as the smirk appeared it was gone, being replaced by a blank look and blinking, confused eyes.

"Wait if Ma and Dad are in a meeting then where's—"

"'Tsumu! 'Samu!"

The owner of the shrill, giggly voice echoed around the room as they burst into the hall. In a whirlwind of gold and blue, a little girl bound towards the princes, her poofy dress bouncing and twirling with her excitement.

The twins turned towards where their little sister was charging towards them, soft smiles and laughs breaking through their trained composure at the sunny voice of the little girl and the exasperated nanny who was standing in the doorway.

"Look! Look!" She called pointing and twirling in her dress, "I match the both of you!"

She wasn't wrong, the deep navy of her dress matched the blue that Osamu was wearing, and the gold details lining the bodice and edges of her skirt were a perfect replica of the ones Atsumu was dawning. A cheery laugh bubbled from Atsumu's chest as he stood up from his seat and went to kneel in front of his baby sister. The little girl twirled again to show off the frilly dress, her dark brown locks dancing around her face as she spun.

"Ya look beautiful, Mitsuru!" Atsumu encouraged, hand going out to straighten the princess as she teetered and stumbled after all her spinning. A beaming smile split the little girl’s face, her onyx eyes—the same shade as Osamu's—twinkled with childish wonder.

Mitsuru turned to where Osamu was sitting, directing the same heart-attack-inducing smile towards him. "Do ya like it too, 'Samu?"

Osamu smiled gently at her, the kind of smile that eased a person's worries and melted their heart. The prince motioned for her to come over to him—too which she happily obliged—and straightened out the petite crown that sat on her head.

"'Course I do 'Tsuru, yer lookin' more and more grown-up every day."

Mitsuru happily danced in place at both of her brother's approval. The twins watched their baby sister twirling about with loving smiles; it seemed like just yesterday the two of them were being called into their parents’ quarters to meet her for the first time—eight years had gone by as quick as a sneeze.

"Mitsuru," the voice of the princess's nanny broke the joyous spell the girl had cast over the room, the chastising tone sucked the bounce right out of Mitsuru's feet. "You know your mother and father have requested you practice acting like a big girl for when the representatives from Wisteria come to visit. Was that outburst very ladylike of you?"

The girl visibly slumped at the woman's words, her little feet shuffled uncomfortably at the wooden floor.

"No," she said dejectedly, "But I wanted 'Tsumu and 'Samu to see my new dress."

"That's fine dear, next time just do it a bit more quietly," the nanny's hand caressed her fluffy hair then guided her to the seat across from Osamu's.

"Mrs. Finn," Atsumu started, "What's this about the Kingdom of Wisteria?"

Osamu perked up as well, "Yeah we weren't told anything."

The woman opened her mouth to speak as she lifted Mitsuru into the cushioned seat, but whatever she was going to say was cut off by a strong voice echoing from the entrance of the Great Hall.

"We've agreed to invite some members of the house for dinner," the King spoke as he escorted his wife towards her seat beside Mitsuru. The nanny bowed frantically towards the King and Queen before excusing herself and slipping through the door behind the fox tapestry.

"I thought we cut off all communication with them?" Osamu questioned, reaching for the glass filled with water set before him.

"We have, but the council and I think it would be in our best interests to reconnect with them. Their firstborn is looking for betrothal candidates."

The twin princes blinked back at their father from their seats. Never had the prospect of an engagement been discussed. Usually, these things were decided while royalty was in their teens—not early twenties.

"So Osamu would be betrothed to some princess?" Atsumu's voice broke the hanging silence. He had nothing to worry about as the next in line, most Kings in Arellia marry a second-born royal to avoid the rare possibility that they'd have to leave to rule their spouse’s kingdom. Atsumu's unbothered mood vaporized when his father didn't respond, the sick feeling only worsened as he watched his mother exchange a pitiful look with the king.

"You haven't told them, dear?" She said in a hushed voice, almost as if she were pretending the pair weren't sitting directly across from her.

"Told us what?" Atsumu and Osamu said at the same time, sharing brief confused looks with each other.

The King cleared his throat while picking up the fork beside his plate; cooks and servants had started bringing out trays of mouth-watering food and placing them around the table. Mitsuru—who was oblivious to the tension enveloping her family—dug straight into a bowl of rice.

"The council has recently expressed their approval that. . .Osamu will be the candidate for the throne of Arellia."

Atsumu's throat closed up. He couldn't breathe, it was like he was silently choking on air, his lungs struggling to drink in oxygen. Sound became irrelevant as he stared at his father in disbelief, the muffled protests from Osamu felt miles away as a loud ringing only he could hear invaded his thoughts. Atsumu's entire childhood had revolved around the fact that he was to be the next king, now his one purpose—his life's work—was being stripped away because some ancient council members deemed him unworthy.

As Atsumu's mind started to process the news, the anger built. His hands balled into fists that shook in rage—a rage that was not only directed at the deteriorating politicians in the court, but also at himself. The sounds of the tense argument between Osamu and their father started to rush into the prince's senses in a similar way one surfaces from water: graceful but all at once. With a sharp slam Atsumu stood up with his hands flat against the birch table, the sudden outburst had made Mitsuru jump and sink closer towards her mother's side once she noticed her brother's irritated state.

"It's against the law for them to do that—I was born first! It's my birthright to be the next king, not Osamu's!"

Atsumu's eyes flicked sharply to his father's face, a venomous emotion lingering in his stare. "I've spent my entire life preparing for this role, I won't let some shitty politicians ruin that for me!"

Mitsuru sniffled pathetically into the Queen’s side, the woman's hand ran comfortingly over her daughter's head as she watched her family tear into each other.

"Dad, perhaps ya should reconsider—"

"Stay out of this Osamu! You’ve already ruined enough!" Atsumu snapped, directing his attention towards his brother. Osamu's brows furrowed and an emotion flickered momentarily in his eyes, one that Atsumu didn't care to acknowledge. The older twin opened his mouth again to spew a vicious wave of words at his clone.

"Sit down, Atsumu!"

The King's voice came out strong, demanding, and hot. The sheer force had Atsumu falling into his seat sitting straight as a board. His eyes burned hotly at the plate of food in front of him, a plate of food that would not be able to satiate the angry hunger building in his chest.

After what felt like hours the Queen's gentle voice rose through the tense air, defusing the heated stares and violent thoughts brewing. "This matter can be discussed later, perhaps at a more appropriate time than at the dinner table."

The rest of the meal was silent, all except for the hiccups and sobs coming from Mitsuru; the girl's tears dripped down her face and onto her new blue and gold dress—a dress that was supposed to represent her two beloved brothers.

Atsumu was up and out of the Great Hall the second the last plate left the table, storming through the corridors towards his room. Nobody tried to stop him in fear of being on the receiving end of his explosive irritation; even Kita's voice died in his own throat as he watched the man breeze past him. Kita was rational and decided to let him simmer down a bit before even attempting to approach him.

Atsumu slammed his bedroom door shut, ripped the circlet from his head, and threw it onto the maroon sheets of his bed. The prince's hands instinctively raked through his hair as he paced around the polished wood floor of his bed chambers. He felt antsy, hyper-aware of everything around him as fear started to shred its way from his lungs to his throat, a burning pressure built in his head behind his eyes as he fought to keep everything in; like steam in a pot trying to escape.

Atsumu was supposed to have his life perfectly planned for him—a straight shot towards the throne void of any obstacles—and now it was as though the floor had fallen from under his feet causing him to free-fall into a pit of dark unknown. His father had never doubted his abilities before, so why was Osamu suddenly a better candidate than him?

A few tears fell down his cheeks, ones that he wiped away as quickly as they had been produced. Atsumu refused to cry, he didn't want to give the council that satisfaction—even if nobody would be present to witness such an event.

The prince's head fell heavily against his pillow, his eyes focusing and unfocusing on the balcony windows lying to the right of the bed. The sun had finally set for the day, the moon beginning its silvery reign over the world as night descended over the kingdom. Through the swirling darkness of the evening, Atsumu's eyes flicked from their blank stare to a more curious watch; a warm light was glowing from somewhere beyond the palace grounds, it danced and played in the black air in a taunting manner, as though it were beckoning the prince to look.

Atsumu rose from his bed and crossed over to the door of his balcony, the cold air rushed around him the second the door swung open. From here he could see the light clearer—lanterns, each one bobbing about the sea-like void. If Atsumu strained his ears enough he could make out the faint sounds of music and laughter, the infectious warmth spread through him, chasing out the previous tension and flooding his mind with curiosity.

Presented right in front of him was an opportunity to escape and attempt to forget about the current situations creating so much turmoil inside him. He had to get away from it all—his family, the palace, anything that reminded him of his position.

Atsumu flew back into his room. If he were to do this properly he'd need a change of clothes; as much as he enjoyed his white and gold extravagance, he knew for a fact that it wasn't exactly a typical style choice among the more common folk. He'd need something normal, something that wouldn't make him stand out.

The prince sifted through his clothing and only was able to produce a simple black cloak. He tapped his finger against his chin as he pondered how exactly he'd be able to make a single cloak cover his identity. Muffled voices were heard passing his bedroom—voices who just so happened to be able to solve his problem. Atsumu crept his bedroom door open and smirked triumphantly when he spotted the canvas bag of clean laundry sitting a few doors down. The prince scurried over and snagged a few articles he was familiar with seeing Kita wear; it’s not like Kita would mind that much anyways, Atsumu would have them returned before he even noticed they were missing.

Now that he was completely disguised, Atsumu slipped down his balcony using a makeshift rope of sheets—an idea he had gotten from an old fairytale his mother would read him and Osamu as kids— and started his mad dash across the castle grounds and towards the bustling Inner City.

The Inner City was even more than Atsumu could ever imagine. Not once had he actually ever left the palace to explore, what was supposed to be, his kingdom; the closest he had come to was reading about the trade markets and political theories related to the city. The cobblestone streets weaved into multiple alleyways and avenues while beautifully crafted stores and homes lined the paths in neat rows, all illuminated by candle-lit street lamps which cast a warm glow over everything. People loomed through the city laughing and talking to one another as they explored what new inventory the night markets had to offer. Inviting smells of foods completely foreign to his refined taste made Atsumu's mouth water as he peeked over the shoulders of the citizens. The deeper he strayed into civilian life the more he hungered to learn and absorb everything this strange new world had to offer.

The farther Atsumu ventured from the Inner City nightlife, the more peculiar his surroundings became. Pure white storefronts and homes with deep oak support beams faded into smaller wooden homes, the beautifully kept cobblestone roads and streets started to crack and become misaligned until they eventually morphed into dirt. It slowly started to dawn on the prince that he was no longer in the safety of the Inner City, a place of Nobles and artisans, but instead had wandered into the sickening realm of the Outer City—an area he had heard many of the bankers and respectable traders working directly with his father call a festering filth hole.

If there was one place a prince would find himself unsafe in this kingdom it would be the Outer City; a place known for crime and as of recently, vicious raids on merchant caravans traveling to the palace.

The young man looked around him frantically; he was completely lost, all the streets looked the same here and he couldn't catch any glimpses of the bustling Inner City. Caught at a fork in the street, Atsumu just had to choose a direction and walk; maybe there was at least one kind soul who'd be willing to help him.

The direction he had chosen opened up to an old town’s center; decaying shops and a smoking bakery sat in an odd scattered pattern around the square. Behind the buildings Atsumu could just make out a hill speckled with what looked like sunflowers. People of all ages loitered around wrapped in ragged, patchy clothes; despite their current states, there seemed to still be a joyous aura about the townsfolk. A bit off from the middle of the square was an ancient traveling puppet theater, it looked like one strong wind would cause the chipped, dull contraption to topple over. Children sat in the dirt around the theater watching with wide eyes as the puppet master played out his show.

Atsumu found himself smiling gently at the childrens' merry laughs and calls to warn the knight of the dragon creeping up behind him. Their energy reminded him so greatly of Mitsuru. The thought of his baby sister caused his heart to sink as pictures of her crying form appeared in his head. Atsumu felt sick when he realized how much he must have scared the poor girl at dinner; he and Osamu rarely yell like that around her to spare her kind heart. He'd make it up to her when he got home, she always loves it when he takes her riding through the gardens.

The little show continued on, creating happy cheers from the children as the knight prevented the dragon from attacking; even Atsumu found himself breathing out laughs with the townsfolk. Who knew a crummy puppet show would be a hundred times more entertaining than the ballets and operas he was forced to watch?

"Excuse me," a voice called out.

The prince turned to find a person in a flour-covered apron with a large basket of bread hanging safely on their arm. The person smiled up at him and reached into the basket retrieving a loaf of bread.

"I'm sorry it's all we have to offer tonight. I'm afraid the shipment of ingredients never got delivered," they said, pressing the bread gently into his hands. "Hopefully the trade supervisor will lighten up on his taxes soon."

The person left Atsumu standing baffled in the square with the fresh bread heating his hands.

What in the world just happened? Why did that person give him bread? And what was that mention of taxes?

The prince watched the person weave around the square handing the food out—each recipient smiled and thanked them greatly as they made their rounds. When they approached the children they cheered and whooped, all of them eagerly lining up to get their share of food.

How odd, Atsumu thought. Some of them act as though they've never seen food before.

With their bread in hand, the townspeople started to break into groups and enter their homes—related or not they welcomed people into the shelters with crinkled smiles and cheery voices. Atsumu took this as a note to head back the way he had come, not wanting to attract any attention to him as the streets cleared.

As he shuffled lost through the Outer City alleys, he absentmindedly took a bite from the bread the mystery Baker had gifted him. The food was light and soft, the inside still heated to a comfortable temperature from the oven. This simple thing was just as good as any of the gourmet delicacies he had been given by the palace kitchens—maybe even better than some. The noble found himself slightly saddened as he popped the last piece into his mouth, disappointed that he could very well never taste such divine baking again.

For such a talented Baker they sure said some strange things. Why had they apologized to him about sparing one loaf of bread? And why did they mention taxes on ingredients? The kingdom didn't have any taxes placed on ingredients. Atsumu had studied every law, and past laws, the kingdom had ever ordered, and not once had a tax on ingredients or food been issued.

Surely the person was turned around a bit. Atsumu had never worked in a kitchen, but he could assume that the hot ovens make your brain a little fuzzy.

Speaking of being turned around, the prince was still very lost at the moment; any thoughts about the baker had to be put on hold as he wandered around trying to find a sliver of direction. He had bumbled his way into an area with messy cobblestone streets—a definite upgrade from the town square he had visited earlier—but he still found himself slipping In and out of the extensive alleyways and streets of the labyrinth-like city.

Atsumu was just about to lose hope when he spotted something turning out from the corner of the street ahead of him—an incognito banking carriage. Joy flared within him as he followed the carriage, being sure to stick a good distance away from the vehicle. Banking carriages—specifically the one in front of him—often travel at night between the Outer and Middle sections of the kingdom directly to the Inner sections. Following this carriage was a straight shot back to his home.

The trip wasn't as long as he initially thought it would be, before the prince knew it he was surrounded by the hectic crowds of the night markets. After weaving through the masses of people and sneaking through the castle grounds, Atsumu found himself back at his window which he craftily scrambled up again with the use of his makeshift rope.

Once in his bedroom, he felt the adrenaline from sneaking back into the palace rush through him. Tonight had been like nothing the young royal had ever experienced—and he was still hungry for more of that euphoric freedom.

Out in the city, he didn't have any responsibility. Nobody knew who he was and he got to observe people living lives so foreign from his own. His curious mind drifted back to the Baker; he still had questions unanswered about them that burned hotly in his consciousness as he tossed and turned in his bed.

Atsumu fell asleep with a final decision on his mind—one more visit to the small Outer City town wouldn't hurt, he'd be there only to get his curiosity quenched and he would come straight home to the palace. He promised himself that.

How exactly could anything go wrong from just talking to someone?

The next day seemed to drag on slower than ever. Atsumu sat through his lessons and duties, glancing at the clock every 10 minutes—his leg never ceased its insistent bouncing as he waited impatiently for his day to end so he could run off to the city.

The day wasn't a complete waste though, he managed to snag more of Kita's clothing for his trip whenever he passed one of the canvas laundry bags in the halls.

When Atsumu finished his last objective for the day he burst out of the room and hurried through the halls. He didn't want to waste another second in the castle—which had started to feel absurdly stuffy after his taste of freedom last night.

As he skirted around the corner leading to the wing where his and his siblings’ quarters resided, the prince skid to a halt to avoid stepping on the dainty feet of his baby sister. Mitsuru let out a startled squeak as she stumbled back to dodge Atsumu, only for her to bump straight into Osamu who was standing behind her—the younger prince’s hands quickly went to hold her shoulders to make sure she didn’t fall. When Mitsuru looked up to see just who had almost run her over, she let out a happy squeal, wriggled out from Osamu’s cautious hold, and jumped up into Atsumu’s arms; the small girl couldn’t jump particularly high, leaving Atsumu to crouch awkwardly to catch her when she launched herself at him.

“Atsumu!” the small princess cried, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, locking him into a hug. “‘Samu is gonna steal cupcakes fer us! Y’can help me distract Chef Blanchet while he gets 'em!”

“I uh,” Atsumu stuttered, shifting Mitsuru to his hip to have a more secure hold on her. Atsumu locked eyes with his twin; Osamu inclined his head towards the hall that led down to the kitchens. It was like he was saying: “What’s with the hesitation? Let’s go.” Atsumu looked away from Osamu, he gazed briefly out the window on his right; a warm hue was starting to hit the sky as the sun moved across the heavens, the prince could just make out the tops of the buildings of the Inner City from where he was standing. “I’ll have to pass this time, ‘Tsuru. Promise I’ll help ya next time, ok?”

Mitsuru let out a whine and held onto her brother tighter, “But it won’t be as fun without ya!”

“C’mon, Mitsuru,” Osamu drawled. He stepped forward and pried the girl off his brother, as he stepped back he sent Atsumu a questioning look. “‘Tsumu don’t want to be bothered right now.”

The princess muttered out an ok, waving sadly at Atsumu as Osamu carried her down the hall. Osamu must have said something to cheer her up because just as he was turning the corner her eyes lit up and she started giggling.

Atsumu brushed the interaction off and continued his way to his quarters.

The Prince slipped into his bedroom and threw off his circlet. He then poked his head into the hall and informed one of the maids to tell his family that he wouldn't be attending dinner that night due to feeling ill. The maid seemed to buy his little lie and wished him good health as she headed straight into one of the many hidden servants' halls to relay the news.

In seconds Atsumu was dressed in the "commoners clothes" and shimmying down from his window. This time the prince had armed himself with more than just a cloak and the clothes on his back, he had a pouch of coins and a knife strapped to his belt—you could never be too safe.

The streets of the Inner City weren’t as busy as they had been the night before; it was still fairly early in the evening so people were probably just tucking into their suppers.

Atsumu fished some gold pieces from his bag and purchased a pastry from one of the many side vendors as he re-traced his steps from the night earlier. The baked good was flakey and light, but he still preferred the bread gifted to him yesterday.

The prince hoped dearly that he'd be able to find his mystery Baker again, there was something about them that just felt. . .magnetizing. They were an odd character and he couldn't help but have curiosity tug at his stomach the more he thought about them.

The sky had just started to tint a gold color as he stepped back into the dusty town square. The puppet theatre from the night before was gone—its owner had probably already started his travels to another town. With no theatre to entertain, the children kept themselves busy with games of tag or Ring around the Rosie; such games that Atsumu didn't understand nor find that interesting, and yet the gaggles of kids still squealed with delight.

Just as Atsumu passed the little bakery in hopes of catching a glimpse of his mystery Baker, the old doors burst open, the hinges squeaked and moaned at the force of the action. Out from the door stumbled a person holding various boxes which were falling from the neat stack they had once been placed in.

On instinct Atsumu jumped at grabbing the boxes that were tumbling towards the ground. The packages were safely cradled in his arms as the person peeked out from behind the stack of boxes.

"Oh thank you, sir!" You boasted, stepping carefully down from the steps to meet him on the dusty path. "I don't know what I would have done if those fell."

"Yer welcome," Atsumu responded, immediately recognizing you as the Baker from yesterday. He glanced at how you were struggling to balance the many boxes in your arms while also attempting to take the ones he had managed to save. "Perhaps ya'd like some help deliverin' these? It might be a bit easier for you to see where yer headed."

A grateful look broke out on your face, a happy sigh followed close after, "That would be wonderful thank you," you hummed, your relief quickly evaporated as concern replaced its space. "I mean, only if it wouldn't be a bother to you! I'd hate to just force my work onto some poor soul!"

"Yer forcin' no such thing on me," Atsumu said as he reached out to take his share of packages from your arms, "I'm happy to help ya, truly."

You sent him another grateful smile in return and started leading the way towards your destination.

"Are you new to town? I saw you yesterday evening but I don't recall your face—My name’s (y/n) by the way!" You said over your shoulder. You slowed your pace slightly so Atsumu could catch up.

Atsumu didn't really know how to answer your question; technically he was new to the town but definitely not new to the kingdom.

"No, I just stumbled upon this place while on a walk."

"Well," you started, a breathy laugh leading into your words, "Our town might not be as extravagant as the Inner City, but I think it holds much more charm than that stuffy socialite compound."

The prince stifled a laugh at your words; there was a slight bite to them which he enjoyed.

"Forgive me, but I still haven't gotten your name yet. I'd like to thank you properly for helping me with these care packages."

The prince's mind went into a state of panic; he couldn't tell you his real name, it was far too recognizable. In seconds his eyes darted around the town searching for a pseudonym for himself, grasping for the first name that came to his mind.

"Shinsuke," he stuttered. Atsumu cleared his throat and straightened his stance in an attempt to seem a bit more convincing, "My name's Shinsuke."

"Well thank you very much for helping me, Shinsuke."

It felt odd being called anything but his name or some variation of “your highness,” but somewhere in Atsumu's heart, he enjoyed the anonymous feeling the name provided. You were treating him like a normal person and not a future king—although he wasn't sure about the king part anymore.

The two of you stopped at your first destination. A hasty knock on the chipped door revealed an exasperated mother holding a sobbing child. Atsumu watched as the mother thanked you over and over when you handed her the package. Your smiles and soft voice eased her obviously spiked nerves; even the child tucked away in the woman's shoulder peeked at you and sent a teary smile your way when you waved at them.

"(Y/n)?" Atsumu started as he followed you to the next destination. Your hum of acknowledgment queued him to go on, "What exactly are in these packages?"

"Food from my family's bakery!" You chirped, pausing your steps to let a wagon with rusty wheels filled with firewood rumble past the two of you.

"So does your family just sell everything in-store and you deliver?"

"No we give this out for free," you said like it was the most obvious thing.

Free? Your family was just giving people food without charging them? How did that even work—why was your family even doing it in the first place? Giving things to people without charge defeats the entire purpose of having a business, you don't have to be an educated Noble to understand that.

"I can tell you're confused," you said. You matched your steps with his to better explain yourself. "The primary trading corporation that sells our town ingredients and food has been raising taxes for the past few years; the people aren't able to pay for everything individually anymore, so my family buys in bulk and distributes the food."

"It's illegal for corporations to do that," Atsumu frowned, glancing at the dim look on your face. "Have y’tried to report any of this?"

"Trust me," you laughed bitterly, "This entire town could waltz right up to the King and they'd still find a way to twist our words. It's what they've been doing with all those raid reports anyway. It's not hard to gain power when you're born into wealth."

Atsumu followed quietly behind you as you handed the last few packages out—most of them were given to families or elderly people who were in no position to work. The night before Atsumu had only gotten a glimpse of what life was like out here; any prior knowledge was heavily biased by the very nobles destroying your way of life. Now that he's had a closer look, the prince realized that everything he knew, or he thought he knew, about the Outer City was completely wrong. The people weren't crude and violent, scraping any living thing for money to survive, or robbing caravans. Everyone he had watched you interact with was kind—struggling to live, but incredibly welcoming; multiple times the two of you were invited to share what little food the townspeople had to offer as the sun dipped and the air froze, but each time you politely declined.

The last lights of the day were completely gone by the time the two of you had looped back to your bakery; the moon cast its silvery light over the dirt-laden square as the stars winked gleefully at anyone watching. Parents were calling their children in for bed and a group of joyous elderly men playing cards and smoking pipes ushered the children in with warnings of ghosts stealing any stranglers.

"Wait right here please," you called out, hurrying up the cracked steps to the storefront—the little bell jingled happily in welcome as you threw open the door.

In seconds you returned with something wrapped in a white, cotton cloth. You hopped down the stairs and smiled up at the brunette, "A gift to thank you again. It was quite nice to have company this time."

Atsumu accepted the cloth-wrapped item. He unraveled it to find two hot loaves of rye bread.

"Thank you," he whispered, still stunned at how gracious you were; he'd only just met you properly and yet you treated him with such care and respect.

"Well," you awkwardly kicked at the ground, your hands fiddling with the strings of the apron you still wore. "Goodnight, Shinsuke."

The prince watched you turn to leave, your figure was halfway up the stairs when his mouth moved faster than his mind.

"Wait!" He sputtered, cheeks warming at your glittery eyes when you quickly turned back, "Would ya—this sounds so forward, but would y’mind if I helped ya again tomorrow?"

"I would love that."

Your answer came out barely louder than a whisper, but the sentence caught the wind and drifted straight to Atsumu's ears, sending shivers down his spine. A giddy smile spread across his face and he waved goodbye to you as he left the impoverished town for the second time.

Atsumu has been consistently visiting your town for three weeks now. Every night he would either skip out on dinner and request it be delivered to his quarters where he was "studying," or he would leave immediately after a hasty meal with his family and meet you after your nightly deliveries where the two of you spent hours talking and sharing a loaf of bread from your store.

You had opened him up to a completely different world, talking about every mundane thing that crossed your mind. He was fascinated by your way of living and how you thought; everything was from the heart, not once had you stopped to politically analyze or weigh the financial repercussions of the obstacles presented, you simply acted on how you felt—something so pure and out of the goodness of your heart would have been frowned upon by the stiff nobility.

The early evenings in the Inner City had become more crowded as the nights shifted to that of cool summer. Atsumu had consistently found it difficult to maneuver between the crowds of eager peddlers and pompous artisans; their voices calling out to victims who looked to be easily swayed into purchasing whatever trinket they were selling.

"You sir!" A seller called, shoving handheld cases filled with jewelry into his face, "A handsome lad like yourself must have a special person; perhaps treat them to a gift just as beautiful!"

"No thank you," Atsumu said in the politest voice he could muster, gently pushing the case away. The peddler frowned slightly and sauntered away from the disguised prince, his voice already calling out to a young couple passing by. Atsumu breathed a sigh of relief before hurrying through the crowd; he was already too late to help you deliver food tonight and he didn't want to waste any more time getting stopped by vendors.

The bright, flame-lit street lamps slowly dwindled to none as the brunette followed the familiar path towards your town. The only light cast onto the streets being from candles inside the houses he was passing.

It was funny to think that the first time he had walked this path he'd been terrified of the people inhabiting the area; now he was welcomed with cheery hellos from everyone who lived there—Atsumu had even found himself particularly popular with the village children who often invited him to play games with them.

The tight streets opened up into the dusty town square. Atsumu breathed in the fresh air, the slight scent of sunflowers riding on the wind down from the open fields, and the chirp of crickets mixed in with the happy squeals from the kids playing off to the side created a warm feeling in the air.

Atsumu went to wait for you at your family's bakery. His eyes drifted across the weathered boards and slightly rusted hinges on the door and sign; the building was old and underkept, but was dearly loved by the townspeople. Atsumu had even caught you gazing fondly at the building on multiple accounts. The prince had learned a great amount of history regarding the store and yet he still had yet to actually enter the bakery—perhaps it was out of respect for you and your family as the small store also doubled as your home, or perhaps it was out of fear.

"Shinsuke," a dry and weathered voice called. The name still felt foreign to him, but gradually Atsumu had found himself responding to it more naturally. The Nobel looked over to the small hut of reclaimed wood and straw, a gentle smile graced his lips when he spotted an elderly woman waving him over. When he approached her, the woman's withered, yet soft hands encased one of his own. "Have you eaten supper yet? You look too thin for a man your age."

It felt ironic for someone to call him thin when he had probably been fed more food in a day than most people in the Outer City had seen in their life, but the genuine concern and parental love seeping from the little old lady's voice melted away any humor in the situation.

"Don't worry," a charming laugh broke through his words, "I've been takin' care of m’self."

"Good," she stated, her hands slipped from his and reached up to gently pat his cheek. The moment was tender until her smile slipped into one a bit more devious, "Wouldn't want you getting sick on our dear (y/n), now would we?"

Before Atsumu could even respond—voice thoroughly stopped up with embarrassed stutters—the old lady waved to him, muttering something about it being too late for an old soul like her's to be up, and slipped into her shack. The prince just remained, rooted to the spot he inhabited, staring unblinkingly at where the woman had been moments before.

"Shin? What are you doing?"

"(Y/n)!" He squeaked out pathetically, spinning quickly on his heel to face you. He cleared his throat to try and compose himself before walking over to you. "I was just uh—talking to Ms. Aida."

"Riiight well—," you trailed into your next sentence, an air of suspicion in your voice. "C'mon I want to show you something!"

You didn't really give Atsumu a choice as you reached out for his hand and started pulling the brunette to wherever it was you were leading him. The two of you brushed past the buildings of your town, breaking off to a small path that led up the sunflower-spotted hill. The tall plants brushed against Atsumu's limbs and hands as you dragged him forward; delicate petals tickled his hands and cheeks as the monstrous flowers engulfed the two of you, impairing any view of the town previously had. Your soft laughs floated through the air as your only response to the prince's questioning of where you were taking him.

The jungle of tall flowers dissipated, breaking out to a meadow settled snugly in the middle of the thick garden. It was beautiful—far more beautiful than the rose gardens kept in front of the palace's Great Hall. In comparison to the natural beauty before him, the royal gardens looked almost artificial; everything there was perfect, not a bud out of line, but here nature did as it pleased—growing into something entirely free.

Your hand broke from Atsumu's and you rushed forward, flopping straight onto your back in the middle of the meadow; golden streaks of light danced down from the sunset, caressing your features in an ethereal way. The prince followed hesitantly behind you, unclipping his cloak in the process before spreading it onto the soft grass below and following your lead of lying down.

Joyful laughs burst out from beside him; the prince turned his head to look at you—your faces just inches away from one anothers' as you lay in your floral oasis.

"What's so funny?" He questioned, nose scrunching at the displeasure of being left out of whatever joke you were indulging in.

"You!" Your voice babbled out between breaths, "You have such peculiar habits, Shinsuke." Your hand reached out and tugged lightly on the cloak separating his body from the dewy grass beneath.

He simply rolled his eyes in a playful manner, playing off your obvious amusement. "My peculiar habits won't have ya laughin' when y'sit up and yer clothes are all wet."

Truly Atsumu had placed his cloak down on instinct; his mother and nursemaids had instilled the priority of keeping one's clothing neat and orderly from a young age—of course he and Osamu found it difficult to uphold when they were children, but the rule still found a way to imprint themself into his subconscious.

"Do you like it out here?" You asked, blinking hopefully at him.

"I do," he whispered in return. A smile spread across his face as he spoke, "There's a garden near my home, but it's nothin' like this."

"You don't often speak of your home and family. Would it be too bold of me to ask why?"

Atsumu's face dropped slightly, he turned his attention away from your face, instead, looking up at the clouds slowly crawling over the caramelized sky.

"I'm sorry that was improper of me, I shouldn't hav-"

"No it's alright," Atsumu reassured, "I'm just. . .my family life has been a bit tense lately."

Atsumu turned his head back to the side to look at you. There was a deep sorrow in your eyes, one that was understanding, urging him to end the conversation there if he wanted, but in the depths of your features was the human curiosity to hear more.

Atsumu sighed. His tongue swiped over his lips to wet them slightly before he spoke.

"My father has trained me to take over our family's business my entire life. I barely had a childhood, most of my time was devoted to learnin' everything I needed to run the business." He paused for a second; his hand reached out to the small sliver of grass that separated the pair of you, his hands twisting and twirling the blades. "Then Suddenly, a few weeks ago, my father announced to the family at dinner that my twin brother would be taking over instead. Everythin' in my life up until that point was dedicated to becoming what my father wanted and then instead my twin is given what I was supposed to inherit."

Atsumu continued plucking at the grass as you lay quietly listening to him speak. You hadn't said a word or interrupted him, so Atsumu took the chance to finally express the thoughts that had been eating him inside out for nearly a month.

"I guess to my parents I'm an utter failure of a son if they feel they have to give my brother the job instead."

Tears pricked at Atsumu's eyes as he confronted the fear that had been harbored the moment his mother and father shared the news. Perhaps it was entirely the council that had pushed for Osamu to be king, but the lack of protest from his parents hurt worse than them proposing Osamu's role themselves; it was like they had already been thinking that exact thing, but took pity on him and refrained from taking action.

"Shinsuke," you called out softly. Atsumu felt you move slightly closer to him, his eyes trained on the grass he was terrorizing. "You're not a failure—I highly doubt your own parents would think that."

Your hand laid on top of his, ceasing his movements in tearing at the earth below him. Your thumb caressed his knuckles in a comforting manner as you looked deeply into his hazelnut-hued eyes. "Maybe you're not destined to be the head of your family's business, but you still have beautiful qualities within you."

You inclined your face closer to his, your hand brushed his dark bangs from his eyes as he stared back at you. Your voice was hardly above a whisper now, "You're funny, you always play with the children no matter how late it is, you constantly offer me your cloak on cold nights," you breathed out in a laugh, pushing the prince's shoulder in a teasing manner as he joined in on your jest. "Plus, you've been insistent on helping me deliver food to the town—which I see as far more important than some silly artisan trade."

Atsumu wasn't expecting to cry. He hated the action really, but here he was trying to blink back the tears that slowly dripped down his face as your words processed from his ears to his heart. Your words which were so warm and loving—the exact thing he had been missing for weeks. The prince held onto your hand, which had settled comfortably on his cheek; a broken, but grateful smile graced his features as he gazed at you.

"Thank you," he whispered, leaning his head closer to yours. Your foreheads rested against each other, the space between your lips getting smaller and smaller.

Until, eventually, they connected under the golden-washed sunset.

His heart was still giddy and light as he scaled up the wall to his room.

He had kissed you—truly kissed you! This felt like a dream, but it certainly wasn't one, the red marks on his collarbone and swollen lips were a distinct sign of the actions that took hold in the hidden meadow.

For the first time, Atsumu felt full; his heart, his mind, his soul—everything had been ignited by your touch. Now that he's had a taste of it, he couldn't imagine the feeling of anyone else's hands or lips embracing him the way you had.

He didn't realize it then, but love was already blooming.

Just as Atsumu reached his balcony—one leg swung over the railing, the other still dangling off the edge—a knock echoed around his room.

Someone was at the door. Someone was at the door and Atsumu was still in clothes that technically didn't belong to him.

"J-just a moment!" He called out, voice cracking slightly as he stumbled over the rail. He rushed forward, tearing off his cloak and reaching down to yank his boots off. The prince hopped around his room on one foot as he pulled hard to try and get the shoe off—it was like the damned thing had been glued on, no matter how hard he pulled it wouldn't budge!

Another knock came from the door.

The shoe came free but with it a wave of excessive force he was using to rip the thing off, causing him to trip and fall hard onto the floor.

"Your highness?" A concerned voice asked as the person clicked the door open and peeked into the room.

Atsumu looked up horrified to find Kita Shinsuke looking down at him sprawled on the ground—one boot on and the other lying beside his head.

The prince had never seen Kita so surprised by something in the almost 13 years of knowing him; the man's eyes were round and googly with his mouth slightly opened in shock. Kita seemed to recover quickly as he slipped into the bedroom and locked the door behind him, his eyes returned to Atsumu—who was still on the floor—and analyzed his figure.

"I guess I know where my missing clothes have been going."

Atsumu groaned, he couldn't tell if his advisor was trying to make a joke or that was really the only thing he got out of the situation. Kita reached out to pull Atsumu up and guided him over to his bed to sit down properly to safely take off his other boot. As the prince worked on the laces, Kita's eyes fell to the makeshift rope tied to the balcony railing.

"You've been sneakin' out of the palace," it came out as more of a statement than a question; Kita's voice was chillingly calm for discovering such a scandalous act.

The light and happy butterflies that were floating in his stomach since the events that took hold in the sunflower meadow, quickly formed into a thick, sticky ball of nerves. Adrenaline started to cloud Atsumu's mind as panic set in, his thoughts racing to patch together an excuse. The longer he tried to find a way to skirt around Kita's accusation, the more he realized there was no way he'd be able to effectively lie to his advisor.

Kita was too sharp for his own good and after spending almost every day with the prince since he was 10, he could read Atsumu's behavior like a book.

"Kita," Atsumu broke the veil blanketing the room. Placing his other boot down, the prince stared at his friend in front of him, his eyes pleading towards his next statement. "Ya can't tell anyone. . .please."

Kita shifted uncomfortably, he studied Atsumu's expression the way the Queen did when looking for imperfections—crooked crowns and wrinkled clothes were quickly sorted with her watchful eyes.

"Whatever could be out there that requires such secrecy?"

His once imploratory look hardened. Flashes of your happy laugh and the soft brush of your lips breezed through his mind and sent a tingling sensation across his skin. You weren't royalty, hell you weren't anything close to nobility, but what you were was a thousand times better than a performative blood status—unfortunately, blood statuses are more valuable than individual qualities in his world.

Your relationship would never be accepted and that was the exact reason Atsumu refused to reveal his precious sanctuary.

"I can't tell you."

Kita squinted down at the prince, watching his face and the way the royal's hands nervously picked at the fabric of his pants. His stoic face lit into one of surprise.

"You've met someone," he breathed out, "Haven't ya?"

"Please don't tell anyone," Atsumu spit out in a broken voice.

"Atsumu-"

"Please!" He shouted cutting off the advisor. His hands balled into fists atop his thighs, drinking in a breath to calm himself before continuing. "Kita, I've been trapped in this luxurious shoebox my entire life and I've finally realized that I can make decisions myself, that I don't need everything pre-planned for me. Please don't take this away from me—take them away from me."

Kita sighed, scrunched his eyes shut, and slumped onto the mattress beside Atsumu, "Do they know who you are?"

Atsumu let out an awkward laugh, his hand went up to rub at the back of his neck.

"No I uh—I actually told them my name was Shinsuke."

Kita let out a groan as his head fell into his hands, muttering something about the prince being smart but incredibly stupid.

"Yeah it's a ‘lil weird hearin' people refer to me using yer name," Kita peeked at Atsumu from where he was hiding in his hands. The advisor watched as his prince's face softened into a look he had never seen before—one of pure bliss and joy. "But they make me incredibly happy."

The ghost of a smile on Atsumu's lips migrated to Kita before it was harshly tugged down into a straight-lipped frown.

"They're not nobility, are they?"

Atsumu's smile was erased in a snap as he sourly shook his head. "That doesn't change my feelings about them."

"That's not what I meant," Kita said, sitting up straight again to look at the Miya next to him. "If ya keep lyin' to them yer only gonna do more harm than good."

Atsumu knew this—he didn't want to be reminded of the stark divide between the two of you. He truly has been trying to find a way to tell you, but it's so much easier hiding behind a different name and empty backstory. Deep down though he was scared, terrified that you would reject him upon discovering his title and more than comfortable life.

“I spent a lot of my youth in the Outer City, and the one thing I learned is: Lyin’ for long periods of time ain’t taken well,” Kita said in a serious tone, “You have to tell them, Atsumu.”

“I know,” the prince whispered back.

"I promise on my life not to tell anyone," Kita said as he stood from the bed. The man slowly walked over to the door, his white hair bouncing with each step. "I will warn ya that there are whispers between the servants that the King is plannin' a betrothal for you—that was the initial reason for my visit tonight."

The prince's heart sank; his friend's words were a painful punch knocking the air out of his body. He felt warm and cold as he processed the new information. In a matter of hours, he had a dream created and cruelly ripped from him.

"Um...thank you, Kita."

Kita whispered goodnight before leaving Atsumu's quarters, but the prince didn't hear a word.

Once again he found himself lying on his bed, lost and broken with angry tears silently slipping down his cheeks.

The prospect of marriage was supposed to bring vibrance to your life, not completely destroy the functionality of your being.

Atsumu was struggling, drowning, weighed, trapped—whatever other word fit the description. He couldn't stop his mind from wandering towards what Kita had told him the night prior. There was no end to the cycle of worrying, forgetting, and then remembering to worry some more.

The prince dragged himself through the day being hardly responsive to anything around him. It got to the point that his political teacher sent for a doctor thinking the prince had contracted some sort of illness. After many protests and fake smiles assuring he was in good health, Atsumu found himself reluctantly walking towards the event he had been loathing all day—family dinner.

He could already feel it, the emotional storm had been building throughout the day and it was moments away from hitting land. The prince was one wrong word away from unleashing the dangerous turmoil inside him—one that his family was most definitely going to be on the receiving end of.

The circlet he wore sat heavily on his head, a constant reminder of who he was with each step he took down the hall. Previously, wearing the crown had enlisted a sense of pride and honor in him, but now the craft of gold-wrapped rubies felt like an annoying itch you couldn't scratch; no matter how hard you tried it wouldn't go away, constantly taunting your mind in its inescapable discomfort. His white and gold jacket had even started to force a stuffy feeling on him whenever he dawned it; the cloth being the first thing he tore off when he returned to the safety of his quarters.

The halls in the castle seemed far too large and long now that he's had a sample of different classes' culture. It felt a bit silly that his family should have hundreds upon hundreds of rooms hardly ever used in practice when their citizens—the people they were to represent and protect—hardly had more than a single room for their families to take shelter in.

It was sickening at how blind he had once been, but it was even worse to be stuck in this realm of jewels and riches when he had first-hand exposure to how people were living down in the Outer City.

His shoes clicked loudly on the white marble floors as he turned the corner to the Great Hall. He paused in front of the heavy double doors; technically he was already late for dinner, but schedules hadn't seemed important to him as of recently. With a final sigh, the brunette prince pushed the doors open.

You'd think he were a stranger with how his family looked over at him; all the members—excluding the youngest of the bunch—looked over at him with flat expressions. Mitsuru was still too young to fully understand the rift forming between Atsumu and the rest of the family, so at her eldest brother's entrance, she had jumped out of her seat, ignoring the Queens scolds and ran over to hug him hello.

Atsumu instantly scooped his baby sister up and into his arms as she ran to him, spinning the both of them around causing her to laugh gleefully. He felt more at ease having Mitsuru around, her constant smiles and sunny personality were infectious—at least there was one family member he knew would never think ill of him.

Not wanting to give up the welcomed feeling Mitsuru had given him, Atsumu carried the girl back to the long, birch dining table, placing her safely into her seat before going to his and sandwiching himself between his father and twin.

Once Atsumu was seated, the steady dinner time conversation continued, the clinking of utensils joined in the mix of voices as the family ate.

Atsumu hadn't said a word besides a short greeting to his mother and father, instead opting to push around the food on his plate—he was devoid of an appetite anyway.

Atsumu was hardly paying attention to whatever conversation was being thrown about the room but it quickly turned to one that caught his attention.

"That reminds me, the princess from Wisteria will be visitin' next week. I ask that we all be on our best behavior," the King spoke, his gaze lingered on Mitsuru accompanied by a mischievous twinkle in his eyes—a look that the little girl returned in full.

"Is that when ya were going to tell me about our engagement?"

What Atsumu said cast a stilled silence over the hall. All attention had turned to him as the inhabitants blinked surprised at him—partly because of the accusation and partly because he had decided to speak.

"How did ya-"

"Our staff are far more perceptive than ya give them credit for, Father."

The prince held his hard glare at the King. Whether he meant to or not, this look was a challenge, and stubborn personalities ran strong in the Miya bloodline.

The King squared his shoulders and met his eldest son's gaze. "I see news travels fast. But yes, her visit is to solidify a betrothal between the two of ya."

"Of course it is," Atsumu muttered. The prince plastered a sickeningly fake smile on his face, a venomous note tinged his words, "Thank you for tellin' me. Although, it's a shame I had to find out through my advisor first and not directly from my family."

"Miya Atsumu!" His mother gasped, "You apologize for takin' that tone!"

"Why should I?" He questioned, looking between his parents who could only sit astounded at their son's words. "Ya don't seem to have the decency to communicate yer decisions about my life these days. Did ya even think to ask me what I wanted?!"

That was the sentence that seemed to set the evening's fate. Atsumu watched the irritation build behind his father's eyes, like a fire in an Icy blizzard, burning brightly in the dark landscape. A part of him coward at the stern look, but another part—one that had found courage and a voice—stood strong and met the King's refined glare.

"What ya want should be the betterment of our Kingdom. Sometimes that means doin' things y’don't necessarily like."

"Oh right, like breaking an ancient law that's been upheld for centuries until now?"

"'Tsumu, don't-"

"Shut yer trap, Osamu!" Atsumu snapped, turning to glare bitterly at his brother. "Y’don't have to insert yourself into everythin' I do!"

"Be quiet, the both of ya!" The King bellowed, slamming his hand down on the table. The sound made Mitsuru jump in her seat and the princess sat petrified looking at her father. "Atsumu, ya have a role to fulfill, so get over this attitude and do what yer told!"

Atsumu roughly stood from his chair, the wooden legs screeched against the floor from the force. The prince turned to face his father, looking down at him in disdain.

"I refuse to let you force a role on me that strips away my freedom."

He then turned away from his family and stormed towards the exit of the Great Hall. Just before he left, Atsumu ripped the crown from his head and tossed it on the ground—the metal object clattered and clanged against the marble floor before being accompanied by the slam of the wooden doors.

Atsumu ran faster than he ever had down the corridors, slipping into corners as he hurried to his room.

He wanted out. He wanted to be free. He wanted to be with you.

Just as he reached the door to his room, Atsumu was grabbed by his shoulders and slammed into the wall beside the entrance.

"What the hell is wrong with ya?!"

Osamu's hands kept Atsumu firmly in place, no matter how he squirmed he couldn't break free.

"Don't act like yer not happy!" Atsumu bit back, pushing harshly at Osamu's arms to attempt an escape. "Ya get to sit around and be the golden child, havin' everything' y’want brought to ya on a platter!"

"Ya think I wanted to be the next King?!" Osamu spit, moving his hands to grab Atsumu by the collar of his jacket and slam him back into the wall. "I couldn't care less about which one of us sits on that fuckin' throne! What I do care about is when my thick-headed twin yells at our parents and makes our Ma cry!"

Atsumu pushed Osamu's face away from him, causing the prince to stumble back and lose his grip on Atsumu's collar. Atsumu then shoved Osamu by the shoulders as many times as he could before his hands were grabbed; the two of them attempted to overpower the other resulting in a temporary stalemate.

"They're not innocent either! Ya heard what they did, they took everythin' and gave it to ya!" Atsumu yelled, "They're lettin' people die in the cities because they're too blind to actually care about what those twisted trade companies do!"

"Oh because yer any better?!" Osamu said, forcing Atsumu away from him. The two of them stared at each other as the tension built between them. “Yer an ungrateful brat ignoring yer family! Yer little sister!”

Atsumu tried to scoot away from the conversation, fists clenched tight as he resisted the urge to lash out at Osamu again.

"Maybe if ya weren't so selfish and crude ya'd still be in line for the throne."

Atsumu's eye twitched from irritation. In a split second, he had gone from distancing himself from his brother to landing a solid punch on his nose. Warm liquid spread onto his knuckles and between his fingers when he pulled his hand back, the red contrasting harshly with his skin. Distracted by the blood that now splattered his fist, Osamu took the chance to retaliate, sending a hard punch on the corner of Atsumu's mouth; metallic flavors invaded his taste buds as his lip formed a nasty split.

Those first two hits and blood being drawn opened the gates for their fight to escalate. They shoved and kicked, pulled at each other's hair, whatever hit they could land they took.

After a few moments they broke apart, breath labored and eyes crazed like a pair of wild animals; they watched each other's every move, waiting to see if the other would strike.

"Ya satisfied? Did ya get what y’wanted?"

"What I wanted?" Osamu laughed bitterly as he wiped some of the blood dripping down his face from his nose, "I want my brother back, you dumbass."

Atsumu hesitated for a second, his twin's words hitting harder than he anticipated. Atsumu and Osamu had always been a pair; where one prince goes the other was close behind. Now they stood on opposite sides, battered and bloody, a false hatred overpowering any familial love still harbored in their hearts.

"I'm not comin' back, 'Samu," It came out as more of a plead than a statement. In a short amount of time, his perception of royal life had twisted and darkened, but deep down he still craved the reassurance he was making the correct choice.

Atsumu felt lost and found at the same time, caught between two worlds so different they were like night and day. In the end, his heart was what led him—his heart which had been captivated by fresh bread and sunflower meadows.

"What changed?"

"Ya wouldn't understand if I told ya."

Atsumu opened his quarter's door and entered his room. As he turned to close the door he paused and looked over his brother. Blood stained his hands and face, hair messy, his eyes were dull and broken as unshed tears shimmered in them.

"'Tsumu-"

Whatever plea was cut off from Atsumu pressing the door shut and locking it. The prince leaned his back against the door and breathed in a shaky breath, his hands went up to wipe at his watery eyes.

In seconds Atsumu filled a small bag with the clothing he had taken from Kita and as much gold and valuables he could sell to keep himself financed. With his cloak on and hood up, he slipped down from his balcony and into the night.

Atsumu never saw or spoke to Osamu again.

The town square was deserted when Atsumu arrived; it was well into the night and everyone had shut themselves into their homes for the evening. Curls of smoke from chimneys and the dim glow of candles in windows were the only indication of life throughout the town.

His steps were hesitant as he climbed the few stairs up to your bakery's storefront; a small sign indicating the business being closed hung innocently on the doorknob, but the warm light reaching out from the store windows inflicted the opposite feeling. Atsumu brought his hand up and knocked gently on the decayed wooden door.

A few seconds later you appeared, a blanket was tightly wrapped around your shoulders as you peeped out from the open door. Upon seeing him a smile formed and then disappeared when you took in his battered form. Without a second thought, you ushered the man into the bakery.

It was incredibly warm inside, the coals from the ovens in the kitchen were just starting to die out and yet were still able to produce adamant heat for the rooms. The store was cozy, a humble counter surrounded with antique glass cases and woven baskets filled the right side of the room. Atsumu didn't get much time to gawk at the storefront as you were already pulling him behind the counter and into the back of the store. The wood floors transitioned into cracked tiles that lined the entirety of the kitchen. You parked the man next to the large wooden workbench in the middle of the room, pulling one of the lone candles over to inspect his face in a better light.

"What happened, Shin?" You whispered, gently caressing his cheek and moving down to lightly brush your fingers over his split lip.

Atsumu flinched at the contact; he had completely forgotten about the injury, but now the spot was throbbing with pain in reminder.

"I got into a fight with my brother," he said. All you did in response was hum sadly. You placed the candle on the bench and started moving around the large kitchen, grabbing a rag and a bowl of water which you filled using a small indoor pump—the leaver on the contraption squeaked pitifully as you forced the water out.

"M'sorry about comin' here," Atsumu paused to let you dab the damp cloth on his lip, the water was cold and made his lip sting more. "I didn't have anywhere else to go."

"Nonsense," you huffed. Your nimble fingers had wiped away all the blood from his face, the evidence now staining the cloth in blots of blotchy orange and bright red. You placed the rag and bowl of water on the bench and grabbed the candle from where it was sitting. Loosely you laced your fingers with Atsumu's and started to lead him out of the kitchen and towards a set of creaky stairs. "You're always welcome here, Shinsuke."

Atsumu tried to smile at what you said, but a sense of guilt weighed on his shoulders. You trusted him so easily and yet you knew virtually nothing about him that wasn't a facade or half-truth.

At the top of the stairs was a small hallway with a single door at the end. The floors groaned under both your feet as you led Atsumu towards the door. When you pushed the ancient thing open Atsumu was met with what he assumed to be your room. A bed covered with handmade blankets sat near a small window and directly across from the foot of the bed was a chair and washstand—though the surface was devoid of its usual basin and pitcher.

You sat Atsumu down on your bed and moved to place the candle on your nightstand. From there you crossed over to your washstand and pulled open the top drawer. Like magic, you produced a round tin from the stand and happily went back to where Atsumu was seated.

Atsumu watched you sit down beside him and swiftly open the tin; inside it was filled with a waxy substance that smelled strongly of herbs. You swiped your finger in the slav and gently spread it over the prince's injured lip.

"There," you muttered softly. You placed the tin on the sheets beside you before turning back to Atsumu. You smiled up at him and pressed a kiss to the uninjured side of his mouth. As you pulled away from his face Atsumu's arms wrapped around you in a tight hug, his face buried into the crook of your neck.

He had been crying a lot more recently and he hated it. Atsumu was never fond of the action but his emotions and stress seemed to get the best of him the past few weeks. He couldn't exactly tell what triggered the wave of tears—your kindness and unfaltering gentle love? Or maybe it was his mind finally catching up with what had happened earlier outside his old bedroom.

Whatever the reason, the Miya clung to your body, arms holding you tight to his chest and face hidden in your shoulder.

"It's alright. . .you're ok," you cooed, running your hands up and down the expanse of the brunette's back. You stayed like that for some time, running your hands against his body and softly rocking the pair of you. A pitiful smile was all Atsumu saw when he pulled away from your neck. Quickly he wiped his damp cheeks to preserve whatever dignity he had left.

"Feel better?"

Atsumu shook his head. With a final sniffle, the man looked you in the eyes, terrified of what would happen when he said what was on his mind.

"I've been lyin' to ya."

He said it so quietly—so quiet that you had to strain your ears to hear every word and yet the impact they had on you was the same as if he had yelled.

"Wha. . .what do you—"

"M'names not Shinsuke," he whispered. Atsumu watched confusion fill your face, a slight hesitancy, and spark of fear. "My real name is Atsumu. Miya Atsumu."

Your eyes widened and your mouth fell open from pure shock, "You're the prince."

"Not anymore."

Your brows furrowed at his statement. Your mind briefly traveled back to your conversation in the sunflower meadow and a sudden realization came over you. "The business you were talking about, that wasn't an artisan trade that was—"

"To be the next king," Atsumu confirmed. He gently grasped your hands and laid them in his lap, "I never wanted to lie to ya—and I promise everythin' else about us was real. Ya taught me so much and made me realize how warped the nobility is—ta the point where I couldn't stay there anymore."

You stayed silent as you listened to him, playing absentmindedly with his fingers. It's not that you didn't believe him—everything made perfect sense now—but something was holding you back.

"Why give your life and family up over some things I told you?"

"Because ya made me see that I don't have to be what my parents want. . .I have my own say In my life," Atsumu breathed out. His hand went up to cup your cheek, "And because I love you."

Tears pricked at your eyes as you beamed at him, your hand went up to the one he had on your cheek.

"I love you too, Atsumu."

A shiver went down his spine upon hearing you say his name for the first time; the electric feeling spread from his fingers to his toes. Atsumu felt like he was finally home in the rickety bakery holding you close. It had taken him nearly 22 years to recognize how misplaced he felt in those crystalline halls—all it took was a fresh loaf of bread.

"Y'know how ya said that takin' my family's business wasn't my destiny?" Atsumu said. He heard your soft “mhm” of confirmation from where you were buried in his chest. "I need to find a new one. . .what d'ya think about me bein' a baker?"

A breathy laugh escaped your lips as you lifted your head away from his chest. "I think that's a great idea," you said, pressing a kiss to his nose.

"Me too."

[inomios]

atsumu miya hates grocery shopping.

you've asked him about this before, and all he's ever said to you in response was something about him and osamu getting kicked out of all the grocery stores from their hometown when they were really young because "grocery stores hated child freedom".

you asked his mom about it and she told you that of all the grocery stores she took the twins to, they've always made it a point to terrorize every other shopper in the building.

( she told you about the time osamu stole a cart and they both got in it and just started hitting literally every other shopper in their close vicinity. )

( it's how you realize that when the twins were young, they were probably the worst kids in the playground - and that their mother was literally a saint incarnate. )

"this girl from my english lit. class keeps on calling me," you roll your eyes, throwing your phone over your shoulder after you press 'ignore' on the oncoming call, "like how many times do i have to say no to her til she finally leaves me alone?"

atsumu just got out of the shower, his footsteps coming from the bathroom to the bedroom alarming you silently as you continue to read your book.

it's a pleasant saturday afternoon, one of the few days the two of you get to spend the entire day together, and after an entire morning of staying in bed, you've both moved on to lazily lounge in the living room.

it's a cozy apartment, a little snug but the two of you make it work.

you sit on the couch, your back comfortable against the cushion as you hold a book up to your face, waiting patiently as your husband gets ready in the other room.

"like, i do not want to be your partner for structural debate." you say aloud, the groan in your voice obvious, "please take the hint."

but you don't get a reply.

usually, atsumu would say something like "block her number" or "give me the phone and i'll pretend you died in a car crash", and you're both off in your merry way - but now - now, he doesn't say anything back.

you figure he's probably just busy drying off from his shower, so you shrug, and carry on with where you left off in your book.

it takes a minute for you to finish off on the chapter you're assigned to read, and it takes another for atsumu to step out of the bedroom, dressed in his usual clothes and standing in front of you.

you'd acknowledge him but if you're being honest, the book you're reading is too good to be left at all.

"hey, you know when's the worst time to find out that there's no more toner?" atsumu asks, standing a few feet close to you as he watches you read your book.

you keep your glance on the pages, "hm, when?"

and atsumu tells you, "look up."

so you do.

and you blink, "do you remember on our second date when we went to that one restaurant and you spilled your soup all over your pants?"

atsumu sighs, his shoulders falling, "ya got a point?"

you nod, "this is so much funnier than that."

see, before atsumu got in the shower earlier this afternoon, he told you he was finally gonna fill in his roots with bleach again.

his black hair had been growing out a lot, and it was really starting to get more noticeable by the day, so he told you that before he'd spend the day with you on the couch, he would redye his hair blond first.

and now - well - it's like the color of a really orangey bronze just stacked on top of a really off-white blond.

it's a sight you'd pay a thousand dollars for just to see, ( and photograph to hang on your kitchen fridge forever ).

"why didn't you tell me i ran out of toner?" atsumu groans, plopping down hopelessly on the seat next to you.

"i'm sorry i didn't tell you that you ran out of a product that i don't use?" you try your best to sound comforting.

"we've got playoffs tomorrow," he grumbles, "the other team is gonna lose their shit laughing at my hair."

and you say, again trying your best with the comfort thing, "well, that would be a really good distraction, and hey, maybe you guys can get some points in when they're laughing at you."

( no one said you'd be good at comforting people. )

atsumu looks up at you, "not funny."

and you tell him, with a glint of a smile, "it's a little funny."

he doesn't say anything back after that, but with the amount of groans and sighs he keeps giving you, you figure that you probably won't be reading any more of this book any time soon.

for a 20 year old man, atsumu miya is probably the most dramatic person you've ever met.

you stand from the couch, leaving your book behind on the table in front of you, and you say, "fine, come on."

you walk to the kitchen where you left your keys last, and atsumu trudges behind you.

"where?" he asks, following you as you go.

"grocery shopping." you call out, "we're gonna get you a new bottle of toner, fix your hair."

atsumu freezes. grocery shopping?

he's back to following you around, "no - but - aren't you studying?"

"i'm done." you answer, rummaging around the room for the keys.

he continues following you every turn and twist you make, "well, what about that book you've been meaning to read?"

"i can start it later." you tell him, and there's a silent cheer in your head once you finally find the keys inside one of the pantries.

you hold it up to your face with a cheeky smile.

and atsumu shakes his head, "well, you know, you should really get started on that cure for cancer."

you ignore him, walking away to get ready to leave for the door, and as always, atsumu follows you behind.

there's a frown on his face.

you cross your arms, "we are going grocery shopping together because we literally have zero things left, and i'm sorry, i know you hate it, but this is to make sure that none of the other teams tomorrow start pointing and laughing at your hair."

"you said pointing - i never said anything about pointing." atsumu frowns even harder, and he follows after you, "why were they pointing at me?"

you roll your eyes, bringing up the keys to your face again as he looks at you, and you hand it out to him, "just take the keys."

"i'm driving too?" he scoffs, his arms crossing over his chest, but the small smile starting to peek through his face tells you otherwise.

( he takes the keys nonetheless. )

and you say, with a cheeky smile, "well, i have to get started on that cure for cancer in the car."

funnily enough, it's a short trip to the infamous grocery store atsumu hates so much.

of course, he was complaining the whole way there, but he kept driving anyway, so you figure that maybe he isn't dreading this whole trip as much as he lets it out to be.

this isn't the first time the two of you went grocery shopping either.

you guys are broke and young kids who're always probably too busy to keep on running errands, so once a month, the two of you make the effort to use the money you've both been saving up to make the harrowing trip to go get groceries.

atsumu isn't lying when he says he hates the grocery store. its boring and has that weird smell in the air.

but right now, as he's pushing the cart around in between the aisles, your hands in his, a stupid smile adorning his face as you both mindlessly argue about what things you do or don't need in the house - he couldn't care less if he hates this place or not.

"detergent?" you read from the list in your hand.

atsumu looks at the cart, "check."

"dish soap?"

"check."

"hair gel?"

"check."

this goes on for a while, maybe bait longer than the two of you expected, but hey, you guys are kids, of course there's gonna be a gazillion things you both need in the house.

"this is insane," atsumu tells you, pushing around the cart as the two of you walk around, "half the things on here are for my hair."

you tell him, your hand in his as you browse the cereal shelves, "you have really pretty hair."

"but why the hell is hair toner so expensive?" he grumbles, shaking his head when you point to the box of 'Cheerios'.

"it gives you that radiating glow." you smile, shrugging lightly.

and he tells you, "don't tease."

and you say, "i'm not allowed to mention your radiating glow?"

you point to the lucky charms and atsumu nods, and you smile, because you wanted those lucky charms too.

he tells you, "not ever." as you place the box of cereal in the cart, pulling you close gently as you nudge next to him, quickly kissing the side of your head.

and you laugh, walking back to where you were before, "you're a lame, lame man, atsumu."

and he says, matching your teasing tone, "you're the one who married me."

this saturday didn't really go as planned. the initial though was to just stay in at home, do everything as lazily as the both of you can, and just wait for it to be sunday again.

but no - what was supposed to be a relaxing day has turned into running errands at six in the evening.

"that reminds me," you stop walking, thankful that no one else is in the cereal aisle right now, "remember when my niece came to visit the other day?"

atsumu hums, he wasn't at home that day, something kept him with his team, but he's heard all about your niece's visit.

you have a wide smile on your face, "she drew this picture of us getting married in front of a white church, tuxedos and all that jazz."

he's probably met your niece a handful of times, and each time you mention that "uncle tsumu" isn't just your boyfriend, but your husband, she gets this wide smile on her face that just sends atsumu reeling.

atsumu grins, "yeah?"

"so i showed her our wedding photos," your shoulders rise, laughter gently lacing your words, "the one in front of the gazebo at the park back home."

you shake your head as you chortle, "suna officiating, samu by your side, and -"

"us wearing our prom clothes." atsumu's eyes crinkle as he finishes your sentence for you.

the "wedding" the two of you had wasn't in any ways traditional at all. suna got ordained by the internet, osamu was there as a witness, and two days later the two of you had to mail in a marriage certificate for the government to actually deem your marriage legal.

it was ... unconventional.

but atsumu was 19 at the time and you were 18, and two kids eloping like that? of course, it was bound to be out of the ordinary.

atsumu looks at you, "she hated it, didn't she?"

you laugh, "she hated it so much."

"yeah," there's still that crinkle in his eyes as he holds your hand, "she gets that from my mother."

he's still looking at you, but not in the way he was before.

so you ask him, in this empty cereal aisle, "you ever regret that we didn't have a proper wedding?"

and atsumu rubs his thumb over your hand, shrugging lightly as if that question had zero effect on him at all.

"we did have a proper wedding." he tells you, and really - that's enough.

atsumu hates a lot of things - he hates this grocery store right now, and for as long as he can remember, he's also hated every wedding he's ever been forced to go to.

but he loves your wedding, because that was the day he got to marry you.

just like how he loves this saturday, because he might be in this wretched grocery store, but he is holding your hand.

"so." you shake your head, clearing the air, "next item on the list,"

and the two of you are back to walking.

you tilt your head as you read what exactly was the 'next item on the list', cause you don't remember writing it down at all, "red hair dye?"

"yeah," atsumu smiles, "i wanna see if it'll look good on me."

you blink, "tsumu, love of my life."

and he looks at you, "yes?"

"if you dye your hair any other color than it is now, i will be the one pointing and laughing."

"i love how your love for me is just so unconditional."

"i'm pretty sure i said this in our vows." you nod your head, your face as serious as ever, "til death or if you ever dye your hair red, do us part."

atsumu narrows his eyes, the amused smile on his face not once leaving.

"that's it." he pulls out his phone.

"what're you doing?" you ask, your teasing look dropping immediately.

"i'm calling the girl from your english lit. class and telling her you'd love to be her new partner for the debate."

"tsumu - no - i'm sorry, i was joking!"

[inomios]

Suna had always been a bit different, and you accepted that. He was your best friend since you were five years old after all. He never grew out of holding your hand, peppering you with kisses and keeping close to you. Old habits die hard, with him comfortable with never defining your relationship. So why did he all of a sudden have an itch to say the words he had never said?

genre: fluff, angst & romance // highschool!au, best friends to lovers!au

w/c: 6k 

bad example - takayan & don’t need to change - takayan

Keep reading

[inomios]

a sprained heart

— miya atsumu x doctor!reader

— word count: 2.3k

— summary: miya atsumu knows he’s a charming guy, and he’s determined to make sure you know it too. (or, atsumu sprains his ankle, meets a cute doctor, is a shameless flirt, and sakusa is absolutely over it)

“This is all yer fault, Omi!”

“My fault? It’s your ankle.”

Atsumu winces as his teammate gestures down to his swollen ankle, an ice pack balanced over the inflamed tissue. It’s far from his first sports-related injury, and one would think he’d learned his lesson by now, but…

“Well, if ya had just given me a ride to practice, I woulda taped it ‘n we wouldn’t be here!” He tries to insist, gesturing around the bustling hospital emergency room.

Sakusa, who, according to their texts, had waited outside Atsumu’s apartment for fifteen minutes, just scoffs. “Set your alarm for earlier next time. Then you won’t be late!”

“Yer not supposed to yell at an injured person, Omi!”

Both men huff, arms crossed over chests and petulantly facing opposite directions by the time the curtain slides open.

“Miya-san?”

“Yeah,” he grumbles, shooting a half-hearted glare at his teammate, who he’s sure returns it with a scowl under that mask. “That’s me.”

There’s a quiet click as you set your tablet on a nearby surface, drawing Atsumu’s attention back to you as you introduce yourself, smiling.

His eyes widen slightly as he takes you in. Your light blue scrubs are slightly rumpled, as if you’d been sleeping in them. There are deep purple rings under your eyes that your concealer doesn’t entirely hide, and your hair is falling out of the loose bun gathered at the nape of your neck. Exhaustion lines your very being.

You just look like any other tired, young doctor, but your eyes are bright and focused. A determination he recognizes when fighting for the last point of a game.

God, you’re so pretty.

You’re also staring at him expectantly, waiting. Shit— had you said something?

“Oi!” Sakusa snaps. “You gonna answer her question?”

Atsumu blinks, heat crawling up his neck. “Sorry, what did ya say?”

You pull on a fresh pair of gloves, leaning down to remove the ice pack. “It’s fine. Your intake forms said this was a sports-related injury? Mind elaborating?”

“Uh, yeah,” he confirms, a hand rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, recalling the awkward way he’d stumbled off the court. “I came off a block and landed on it bad.”

You hum in affirmation, cool fingers gently inspecting his inflamed skin. “When you were coming in, you were able to put weight on it, correct?”

“Yeah,” he answers, recalling the way he’d dramatically thrown his arm around Omi’s shoulders. “But it was just real uncomfortable.”

A loose strand of hair falls over the side of your face when you look up at him, your brow furrowed. “But you could walk?”

“Yeah, ‘m pretty sure it’s just a sprain,” he answers confidently, hands twitching at his sides as he resists the urge to tuck your hair back. “But our team physician couldn’t make it to practice today, ‘n coach wanted me to make sure ‘cause we’ve got an out of town scrimmage next weekend. The team needs me because I’m the setter. Best in Japan, some say,” he winks, and maybe it’s a trick of the light, but he thinks he sees you blush.

Sakusa shakes his head, groaning. “I’m going to leave you here.”

“Well, we can’t let your team down, can we?” you smile, gently easing a hand underneath his swollen ankle. “I’m just going to test your range of motion. Tell me if you’re feeling any severe pain or discomfort at any point.”

He winces slightly as you shift his foot around, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. “Just mild discomfort,” he shrugs, puffing his chest and flexing his arms playfully. “‘M a pretty tough guy, ya know!”

“Oh my god,” he hears Sakusa mutter under his breath.

A single, breathless chuckle slips past your lips as you slip your gloves off and it makes Atsumu’s chest flutter, and leaves him craving more. “Well, you were right. This is just a minor sprain.” You pick up your tablet, your nails making a satisfying sound as you update his chart. “I trust you’re familiar with R.I.C.E?”

He sits up a little straighter, a satisfied grin curling on his lips. Oh, you’re forward, aren’t you?

He’s into it.

“Rice? ‘Course I am, I eat it all the time! Wait a minute, are ya askin’ me out to dinner?”

“No,” you and Sakusa say at the same time, the latter rolling his eyes.

“Ouch,” he winces, clutching his chest dramatically. “I thought doctors swore an oath to do no harm, but yer really hurtin’ me, sweetheart.”

“You’re very charming,” you hum amusedly, tucking your hair back behind your ear, pushing the edge of your tablet into your ribs and resting your forearms on it. “But I meant rest, ice, compression, and elevation. As an athlete and the ‘best setter in Japan,’ I assumed you’d be familiar with the acronym.”

“Why did ya put that in air quotes? I am the best setter in Japan. Ya want me to take off my shirt and prove it?”

Sakusa rubs a hand down his face, hissing, “Why would you need to take your shirt off?”

He’s already reaching for the neck of his practice jersey, tugging. “So she can see ma six pack!”

“I apologize for him, doctor,” Sakusa cuts in, grabbing Atsumu’s shirt and yanking it down over his near-exposed torso, shooting you an apologetic look. “He’s a twin, you know how desperate for attention they can be.”

“Hey!”

“It’s not a problem,” you assure them, ducking your head when you laugh. It’s charming, how hard you try to hide how flustered you are. “Okay, keep your weight off it as best as you can for the rest of the week. No training, practice, or strenuous physical activity until the swelling goes down. Your familiarity with the injury suggests you’ve had sprains before, so I suggest wearing a brace. It’s not a 100% preventative measure, but the risk is diminished greatly. There are a lot of great options you could discuss with--"

“I’d be happy to discuss it with ya. Over dinner, maybe?”

"Nice try," you tease, which makes him pout. "You can discuss this matter further with your team physician or PT."

At the sound of two quick beeps, you reach your hand into your pocket, pulling out a pager. Atsumu’s heart drops into stomach, because he knows his window is closing and his time is almost up.

You glance down at the device, lips pursed into a tight line. “Um...I am going to get someone to quickly wrap this up for you, and then you can go sign yourself out and have dinner—” You hold up a finger when he opens his mouth. “—alone.”

Before he can argue, you’re yanking the curtain open, poking your head out and flagging down a passing intern. “Hey, can you finish this up for me? I’m needed for an incoming trauma. Oh, this is nothing complicated, this is just a sprain. Compression wrap, send him off.”

“Oi!” Atsumu shouts when you’re about to step out. “Why can’t you do it?”

“I’m currently needed elsewhere, but everything looks fine, and as soon as you’re done here, you can sign yourself out and head home,” you tell him, about to step out once more.

“Wait!” He yelps again, making the nurse that’s reaching for his ankle jump. “Don’t ya need to...write me a prescription or somethin’?

You pause, eying him warily. “For...a sprain?”

“Yes,” he insists, then grabs dramatically at his ankle. “Yes. The pain,” he wheezes, “It’s excruciating!”

Your stare is deadpan, disbelieving.

Then your pager beeps again, and you sigh. “You can purchase ibuprofen at any general store that sells over-the-counter pharmaceuticals. Good luck. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” You turn on your heel, waving once before disappearing into the hall.

The paper on the hospital cot crinkles as Atsumu sits up, swinging his legs over the bed. “Hey, wait!”

“You’re not supposed to put weight on it yet!” Sakusa reminds him, growling when Atsumu once again slings a heavy arm around his shoulders.

“I won’t if ya move yer ass, Omi! C’mon, after her!”

“I’m never agreeing to drive you anywhere again,” he mutters, helping his friend limp down the hall, ignoring the nurse’s protests.

They earn a few odd looks, which the setter waves off with the explanation, “it’s for love!”

“Hey, doc!” He hollers much louder than necessary when he spots you at the nurse’s station.

“Miya-san?” You understandably look confused as you slip your coat off, tossing it over the back of a chair, replacing it with a trauma gown. “Is everything alright?”

Atsumu pushes off of his friend, smirking as he awkwardly leans against the counter. “Maybe I should get yer number.” Your brows raise in shock, and a couple of the nurses behind the desk giggle. “Ya know, for if I have any questions while I’m at home - all alone - rice-ing.”

His teammate smacks the back of his head. “You’re unbelievable.”

You stare at him for a moment before fishing your notebook and pen out of your pocket, scribbling something down as Atsumu fist pumps triumphantly. You tear it off the pad as the sound of the ambulance sirens near, folding it twice before slapping it into his waiting palm.

“For medical questions only.” You tell him sternly, and Atsumu nods, like a liar, and you run off.

“Ya see that?” He asks, as if Sakusa hadn’t been standing there the entire time as a reluctant witness to this entire ordeal. “That’s how ya get a girl’s number, Omi.”

“By annoying her until she breaks?”

“Awe, c’mon, man! Just admit I’m smooth as— hey! Give that back,” he whines when the paper is snatched out of his hand.

“No, you’ll get this back when you get your ankle wrapped, now c’mon.”

The nurse appears behind them with a chair, and though Atsumu rolls his eyes, he drops himself into the seat.

“No way she actually gave you her number,” he hears his teammate mutter as the compression bandage is wrapped around his ankle. Atsumu gasps when he begins to unfold his prize.

“Oi! Ya don’t get to peek at it before me!”

He turns away before his grabby hands can reach, peering down at the paper for a few seconds before laughing, dropping the paper in his lap. Atsumu snatches it up, glancing down at your neat scrawl, groaning in defeat.

_

You stare down at the newspaper, brows raising in surprise when you scan the cover.

Black Jackals setter, Miya Atsumu, announced as GQ Japan’s Athlete of the Year.

Your mind wanders back to the charming athlete who’d so shamelessly flirted with you in the ER two weeks ago. To those warm brown eyes that’d gazed at you so intensely. To the confident smirk curled on his lips as he’d asked for your number.

You see them printed on the front page. Miya Atsumu, in all his glory, putting up a perfect set for the teammate who’d accompanied him to the hospital. He looks strong, handsome as the day you’d met him even covered in sweat.

And on his ankle, there's a brace.

You trace his image absentmindedly, smiling to yourself, unaware of the blush spreading across your cheeks.

“Doctor?” One of the interns says from the door. “There’s a man in the lobby that’s looking for you. He…asked for you by name. Was quite insistent that you see him.”

“Okay, I’ll be there in a minute.”

You draw a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut and hiding your red face behind the newspaper momentarily, trying to calm your racing heart.

It’s not difficult to spot him in the bustling lobby of your hospital. All six-foot-something of him stands tall and proud, a mess of dyed blonde hair peeking out from underneath a black baseball cap.

“Back so soon?” You ask, stuffing your hands in the pockets of your lab coat. “What can I help you with today, Miya-san? How’s the ankle?”

He turns around at the sound of your voice, a charming grin stretching across his handsome face. “Better! That’s not what I’m here about, though.” He pauses, eyes flickering down momentarily. “Want me to sign that for ya?”

You glance down at the newspaper still clutched in your hand. Huh, you’d forgotten it was there. “I’d love that, actually. Bet it’d sell for a lot on eBay.”

“Oof,” he groans exaggeratedly. “You wound me, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you sigh, propping your hip against the front desk. “If it’s not your ankle, what brings the greatest setter in Japan back to our halls of healing?”

Atsumu suddenly leans in, crowding your personal space in a way that’s much too intimate in public. “I think I’m havin’ heart problems,” he whispers, soft lips brushing the shell of your ear. A warm shiver flows down your spine as his hot breaths roll against the skin of your neck.

Your playful mood instantly dissipates as you reach for your stethoscope, drawing back to look him in the eye. “Heart problems? Any difficulty breathing? Tightness in your chest?”

“Nah, nothin’ like that,” he tells you with a smirk, grabbing your hand and pressing your palm to his well-muscled chest. “I think you sprained ma heart."

Your brain short circuits. "What?"

"See, it kinda hurts when I'm all alone. 'Specially when I think about the pretty doctor who gave me a fake number even when I asked so nicely.”

“It was not fake,” you scoff, shoving his shoulder lightly with your free hand. “You can call 119 for emergency medical services.”

“But I wanted to call you,” he grins, pulling your hand up to press a kiss to the back of your fingers. “Lemme take ya out to dinner, doc.”

You check your watch. “My shift isn’t over for another three hours.”

“Then I’ll wait,” he shrugs. “So, what do ya say?”

You pretend to think it over, pursing your lips and squinting down the bridge of your nose at him. “Are we going to have rice?”

He laughs, low and deep, the sound vibrating against your palm as he ducks his head down to look at you. “We can have whatever you want.”

— a/n: should i do a second part??

[inomios]

after hours. satoru gojo x reader

Summary: It all started to go wrong about a week ago. 

last chapter   ← after hours. →   next chapter

Masterlist

Warnings: SPOILERS. Heavy heavy spoilers for ‘Gojo’s past arc’. You all knew this one was coming. Let’s get to it.

Special thank you to my beta reader (and angst consultant) @catoru-gojo 🤠✨ If this chapter makes you sad take it up to her! 

Keep reading

[inomios]

Hi! I really love your works! Could you a scenario with Kuroo, Atsumu and Sakusa where a child goes up to reader and thinks they're their mom and how the HQ boys would react? Thanks ^^

when a child thinks you’re their mom

feat. Kuroo, Atsumu, Sakusa

♡ warning: f!reader

KUROO

You and Kuroo exchange awkward glances at one another, not knowing how to react.

While the two of you were sitting at a park bench, a little boy had run up to the two of you, standing in silence.

“...Can we help you?” your boyfriend asks, his arm still wrapped around your shoulder- a detail that this little boy seemed to be extremely fixated on.

“Who are you?” the little boy asks, but only to Kuroo.

“I- I’m Kuroo. Who ar-” but before Kuroo could answer the kid interrupts him.

“Mr. Kuroo, why are you hugging and kissing my mommy?” he asks.

Kuroo turns to you, and you shrug at your boyfriend, equally confused.

“Your mommy?” Kuroo repeats after the kid, watching him nod.

The boy now redirects his attention to you. With his two hands, he grabs one of your hands. His face looks solemn, full of worry and concern.

“Mommy... please don’t kiss another man. Daddy will be sad” the boy pleads with you, and you let out a small gasp. The little boy was too adorable, so full of absolute innocence. You felt bad that this kid thought he had witnessed his mother flirting with another man- even if that wasn’t the case at all.

Even worse, the little kid’s words seemed to catch the attention of people walking by. Some people were in complete shock, clenching their pearls over the scandal. Others seemed enthralled, completely invested on the drama unfolding before them.

“I- IT’S NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE. Y/N’S NOT ACTUALLY THIS BOY’S MOM” Kuroo frantically explains to the strangers.

The little boy’s eyes widen at the two of you.

“...What do you mean?” he asks, his voice getting more high pitched- he was close to crying. Of course he would- he thought his mother was cheating on his father only to learn that you weren’t actually his mother in the first place.

You two panic, watching the boy’s lip quiver. But before he bursts into tears, another man approaches the bench- much to the delight of the eavesdroppers.

“Oh? There you are kiddo! Now why did you come all the way here?” the man asks, picking up the boy. When the boy looks at the man, his face lights up in excitement.

“I was just trying to talk to Mommy!” the boy answers, causing his father to look at you and Kuroo. The man starts chuckling, apologizing to the two of you for any inconveniences.

“I do see the resemblance, but that’s not Mommy. C’mon, she’s waiting for us back at home alright?” the dad says, making his leave and apologizing once more.

You and Kuroo wave goodbye to the two, slightly relieved that this little predicament was easily solved. When they’re out of sight, Kuroo opens his mouth, and you think he’s about to speak to you.

Instead, he turns to the other people who were casually loitering around to watch the scenario unfold.

“You all owe us an apology. I know you were judging us. I can read faces y’know”

ATSUMU

It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that you and Atsumu visited Osamu’s onigiri shop every day. Even though your boyfriend’s brother refused to give the two of you a ‘friends and family’ discount, you two still swung by on a regular basis.

And who could blame you when Osamu was a good chef?

You and Atsumu stood at the register, staring at the menu board. The two of you took ages to order- much to the chagrin of Osamu.

“Can you two hurry up- I swear in the time it takes for you to order I could have had a kid” Osamu sighs, crossing his arms.

And as if the timing couldn’t get any better, a little girl comes running up to you, clinging onto the ends of your jacket. You and Atsumu look down to see the little girl holding onto you. Even Osamu leans over the counter, curious of the situation.

“MOMMY” she shouts, wrapping her arms around you and burying her face into your side.

"Huh... see, I told you I’d have a kid” Osamu remarks, only to receive a glare from his brother.

“Any other time I would laugh at the timing, but not when this kid thinks Y/n is their mom” Atsumu says, clearly annoyed. He knew that this girl wasn't yours and Osamu’s love child. But he didn’t even like thinking about that implication, and the timing of it just made it worse.

Atsumu kneels down to meet the girl’s eye level.

“Look kid, Y/n is not your mother” he says, with no remorse in his voice.

“I- ‘TSUMU” you yell at your boyfriend for acting so brash.

“Hey, I’m just bringing this kid down to reality!” Atsumu defends himself from you. Was he being a bit much to a little child? Maybe. But did Atsumu care? No.

The little girl pouts at your boyfriend, only clinging to you even tighter.

“But Mommy’s really pretty” she stomps her foot at your boyfriend.

You’re touched by her words, giddily smiling at the compliment. But soon the girl’s mother walks out of the store’s restroom, scolding her daughter for bothering strangers like that. The mother and daughter apologize to you before heading back to their table.

Atsumu instantly has you in his arms, refusing to let go.

“I can’t believe you sometimes babe” you giggle. It wasn’t unlike your boyfriend to become ridiculously petty over the smallest of things.

Atsumu stays silent, still pouting out of spite.

“Alright you know what, just for that, I’ll give you a free onigiri.” Osamu says, clapping his hands once to get your attentions. And as soon as he sees his brother’s face light up at the sound of free food, a smirk forms on Osamu’s face.

“Only for Y/n though. The future mother of my children apparently” Osamu cackles, breaking out into a fit of laughter. You also can’t help but join in on the laughter- it was pretty funny after all. But Atsumu’s jaw only tightens, and he glares daggers at his brother.

“I am literally about to throw the biggest tantrum ever”

And that’s how you and Atsumu got free onigiris that day.

SAKUSA

“Would you look at that, they’re having a sale on laundry detergent” Sakusa says, walking up to you and the shopping cart with two bottles of the detergent.

“Yes, but do we really need this much babe?” you ask, raising an eyebrow at him as he sets the bottles down.

“You never know- we always have my teammates over and they’re always spilling things” Sakusa points out.

“You can just call them your friends Omi” you tease, but Sakusa waves your comment away.

Turns out doing grocery shopping with your boyfriend was more enjoyable than anyone could have ever guessed. There was just something nice about quietly strolling through each aisle with your boyfriend, discussing the mundane topic of cleaning products. 

“Okay, what do we need next..” you murmur while looking at your grocery list. But you soon freeze in place when you feel arms wrap around your legs.

You look down, only to see a little boy hugging you tight. Your gaze flickers back to your boyfriend, and he’s equally confused.

“..Hi there” you softly greet the little boy. He looks up at you with a frown, but he says nothing.

“What’s wrong?” you talk to the boy once more.

“I thought I lost you Mommy...” he murmurs, tears threatening to spill out of his eyes.

You blink at him confused- did he just call you his mother? But that didn’t stop your boyfriend from laughing at you.

“You know Y/n... I feel like you should have told me you had a kid on our first date and not when we were already living together” he chuckles. Sakusa found it all too entertaining to see you in this situation.

“Omi I swear...” your mutter under your breath. But you had more pressing issues to handle than your snarky boyfriend. You look back down at the kid, making eye contact with him once more.

“I’m not..” you begin, but you’re unable to tell this child that you weren't really his mom. The kid was about to have a meltdown, and you surely didn’t want to make matters worse.

But before you’re able to act further, you hear another female voice from the end of the aisle.

“Honey, what are you doing hugging a strange lady? Mommy’s right here!” a woman says. The boy, instantly recognizing his mother’s voice, lets go of you and runs back to his mother. The woman and her son apologize for the mix up and quickly make their way to another aisle.

When you turn back to Sakusa, he steps forward to wrap his arms around you, a grin forming on his face.

“You’re awful with children Y/n” he teases, giving your forehead a quick kiss.

“Impossible! I deal with you all of time Omi” you retort back. Sakusa only scoffs at you, but his eyes are filled with nothing but love.

He doesn’t actually think you’re terrible with kids. If anything, he’s curious to see what you’d be like if the two of you had kids yourselves. Of course, that was a discussion for the future and certainly not something he really cared about at the end of the day. For now and forever, all he could ever really care about is just being with you and making more cherished memories like today.

[inomios]

Oddly specific Haikyuu headcanons; ATSUMU edition

When he shows people his room for the first time he goes "this is where the magic happens"

He bites his nails, not because he's stressed or anything, but just because he rather do that than use a nail clipper so whenever ones getting slightly too long be just rips it off

He always manages to get the teachers attention but not at all in a good way. Like it hasn't even been a week and the teacher already knows his name either cause he's a huge chatterbox or is messing around with his classmates

On the same note he always manages to get caught doing shit in class that he's not supposed to, for example he'd have crafted some makeshift slingshot and launches bits of paper around the classroom, then when he goes to retrieve it, that's when the teacher turns around

He doesn't like the slimey bit of the tomato and whenever he's removing it from the rest of the tomato he makes that scrunched up nose face. 'Samu never understood this habit and he's always saying "just eat the whole damn thing" which Atsumu vehemently refuses to do.

He always wanted a puppy as a kid but his parents never let him get one because he wouldn't be responsible enough. They'd always hit him with the "you gonna feed it every mornin' and night?" and despite Atsumu insisting that he would, everyone knew they was a lie, and deep down he did too

Is really bad at remembering lyrics to songs. He likes humming along and singing along to the radio but he always gets lyrics wrong, either by mixing them up or just mishearing them and thus singing his own morphed rendition.

He definitely drools when he sleeps and is a really heavy sleeper. He's slept through storms, rowdy neighbors, barking dogs, cars honking you name it and 8 outta 10 times he'll wake up with a damp pillow

He's really heavy footed when he walks. Like— the opposite of dainty and graceful. You can hear this man stomping up to you no matter where you are, to the point where you don't even need to turn around to know it's him walking up to you.

He had a magic trick phase as a kid. He even asked for the typical magician hat and black suit for Christmas one year and would gather his family in the living room to watch his magic shows. He always used to ask 'Samu to be his assistant but instead calling out for his "beautiful assistant" he'd say "hideous assistant" instead

He always calls himself the better looking twin despite having exactly the same face and gets genuinely offended when people point this out.

He took the pottermore test once for his patronus and got super offended when he got a shrew. He was getting all prideful saying "there's no way that tiny mouse is me!" and "how's that supposed to protect me anyway?" then he made another account just so he could take it again.

Sucks on the laces of his hoodie when he's lounging around in bed, scrolling through social media.

He uses chapstick and moisturizes his hands, face and elbows. In winter he carries a small thing of hand cream with him.

Hates the smell of smoke, more specifically cigarette smoke. He'll scrunch his nose up and try and waft it away with his hand. If not he'll move seats/spot so he can get away from the smoker.

Never washes his cutlery after he eats. He'll do the dishes, the pans, the other utensils, but will never touch his knife and fork.

He can't cook so once he's out of high school he mostly just orders take out, sushi is his go-to.

He's good at pretty much any sport but if it weren't for volleyball, he'd be best at handball

Atsumu's the type of guy to flirt a lot but once he settles down with a girl he's completely and utterly enamored by her. He thinks she's one of the best things to have happened to him and treats her like a queen honestly. On the downside this does mean that he gets very, very attached so if you were to break up (god forbid) he would be utterly miserable and heartbroken. It'd take him months, maybe even years to get over her completely and would most likely try and distract himself with other girls, only to feel shitty about himself afterwards. It's also a big hit to his ego and would definitely take some time to heal his wounded pride.

He's really defensive about nicknames he gives to other people. He feels like the nicknames he gives people are personal and exclusive to him only, and thus gatekeeps them and won't allow you to use them. For instance he doesn't like it when people call Bokuto "Bokkun" or when people call Sakusa "Omi Omi".

He'd cry like a little baby at the start of The Last of Us

Genuinely has a really good Spanish accent and is really good at rolling his r's. Like, if he were to speak Spanish, his sentences wouldn't be anywhere near grammatically perfect but his accent seriously makes up for it.

He likes licorice, Osamu does not.

He doesn't have any friends besides the one's he's made during his volleyball career. Like all throughout middle school and up until high school, his only friends were his teammates on the Inarizaki volleyball team. Sure, he still talked to people in his class and did memorize a few names and faces, but he wouldn't call them friends. They were simply classmates; people he wouldn't willingly reach out to outside of school. This is mainly due to the fact that Atsumu is simply too caught up in his own little world, his own bubble. He was always too focused on volleyball to commit to any real friendships, thus sticking to ones within the court were more practical.

Pre-timeskip Atsumu would run up the stairs of his house on all fours and it drove Osamu crazy. Post-timeskip Atsumu still occasionally does it.

He's left handed

He's actually not a terrible dancer. Honestly I don't think he can bust out a full, improvised choreography but I do think he's got rhythm. He can do simple steps. Ya'know, subtle dance moves and whatnot. I also feel like he uses his hips a lot when he dances. However, he IS a terrible singer.

He's surprisingly good at texts analyses and composition. You wouldn't think it at first but any time a teacher has cold called him 'cause they think he wasn't paying attention, his observations and inputs are actually pretty astute. Ngl though, when it comes to poetry especially, he'll most likely give an analysis that seems so far fetched but it's somehow always pretty much spot on and his friends hate him for it. He'll also promptly do that smug face to his friends that's all like "yeah I totally knew what I was talking about" when in reality most times it was just a fluke.

He's an Adidas wh*re.

He likes his room to be cold when he sleeps. Like, borderline chilly so he usually keeps the window open and/or puts on a fan

His voice breaks when he shouts. Sometimes it happens mid-argument and you have to refrain from laughing, Atsumu can see it on your face but he's trying his darnest not to laugh either to maintain some form of authority. Despite this, most of your arguments fizzle out because both of your voices are trembling with strained laughter, lips wobbling as you try not to crack a smile.

He finds accents very attractive. Finds it very sweet when foreigners try to speak Japanese and the words come out broken.

His lucky number is 7.

He'll sometimes do push-ups as he's waiting for the microwave to be done

He likes watching satisfying videos in the "discover" section of Snapchat, he could watch compilations for hours.

Old people, especially woman LOVE him. They'll openly flirt with him, call him a cutie and the more bold ladies will try get a cheeky touch of his biceps and the thing is he'll always let them 'cause he lowkey thrives off the attention. He'll just laugh at their advances and say shit like "aw stop you're makin' me blush", he calls them "ma'am" too

He's not a very good whistler

He can't do the taco tongue thing but Osamu can and it used to drive him nuts, he'd practice in front of the mirror but it just wasn't happening

His scream is sorta high pitched.

He doesn't like horror movies but pretends that he does

He's really protective and careful of his mobile, like he takes such good care of it. Anytime he uses it, before putting it away he'll wipe the screen down quickly and there's barely any scratches on it

He's really good at FIFA.

[inomios]

galas aren't really atsumu's thing.

he sees them more as work events than actual parties, and as much as he'd actually prefer to skip them, it is technically part of his job to attend with the team.

that's how he finds himself here.

standing in the middle of men in suits, sipping on fancy champagne and passing around tiny hors d'oeurves, when all he wants to do right now, more than anything in the world, is to go home to his warm and comfortable bed.

but, as luck would have it, in the midst of it all, he sees you, alone in a corner as you observe everyone else from a far distance.

and atsumu has a strong feeling, the night is going to get better.

"hey, you." he smiles, seeing you look up at him the second you hear his voice, and when you put away your phone to give more focus to him, he can’t help but smile wider.

miya atsumu is the bachelor of the evening.

his blond hair neatly gelled as his fringe falls gently to the side, his black tux fitting him perfectly with the exception of his unbuttoned cuff links, and finally, like a cherry on top, his sticker name tag placed directly on the middle of his chest.

and instead of his name on it, it reads “the hottest msby jackals player ever!!” in big, permanent black ink.

your eyes crinkle, shoulders rising lightly as you laugh, "you look like you’re having fun."

"nah." atsumu shakes his head, "feels stuffy in here with all the suits."

and you tease, "scared the other guys might show off better than you?"

and he looks at you, rolling his eyes, but the stark grin on his lips doesn’t waver.

fifty minutes into the gala and he was ready to leave and quit his job then and there, but two minutes with you, and he’s ready to attend a thousand more of these in the future.

"you look good tonight." atsumu tells you, his eyes focused exactly on how you’d react.

“thanks,” you wave him off, laughing like you think he isn’t serious, "you look okay, i guess."

"hey!" he frowns, patting the sticker on his chest harshly, "read the name tag."

"the hottest player in msby, huh?" you tease, shaking your head in faux annoyance.

"notice how i put “player”, so you can also technically be considered the hottest in the team too." he nods, looking very proudly at you as he explains it, and he taps the sticker on his chest again.

you tilt your head, "that’s very considerate?"

and he grins, "it’s accurate too."

the evening has been going on for a while, so it’s really hard to tell whether the people inside are having genuine fun or way too drunk to even recognize what actual music is.

but as atsumu stands in front of you, in your own little corner in the big event hall, you can’t tell if the red in his face is from the alcohol or from something completely other than that.

"miya atsumu." you smile, eyes crinkling, "are you flirting with me?"

and you mean that in a teasing way, your shoulders rising a bit as you laugh, and you take another sip of your drink as you watch him watch you.

"i have been for the past two years." he nods, his smile relaxed, and he laughs, "i was worried you were never gonna notice."

you shake your head, "well, maybe you’re just bad at it."

and in full atsumu fashion, he clutches his heart harshly, fakely falling onto one knee, and yelling, "ouch!" as he looks at you with a deep frown.

you’d call him an idiot, but you have a feeling he already knows you’d say that — so you let him have his fun, letting him grab onto your hand to lift him back up.

"what’re you doing here, atsumu?" you raise a brow.

he hums, "hm?"

"why are you here in this corner with me?" you ask, pointing slightly to the space around you.

he tilts his head, unsure of what you mean.

and you shrug, "like, shouldn’t you be out there with everyone else drinking and mingling?"

and atsumu laughs, "i am drinking and mingling."

"not with me." you roll your eyes, pushing his shoulder back lightly as he continues to laugh.

"i like…" he starts, and he looks to the wall, then back to you, and he’s suddenly very aware that he’s unsure of what to say.

so he says instead, "talking — to you — i like talking to you."

and it’s stupid, but his ears are pink, and his hands feel clammy and nervous — but you smile anyways, and you tell him you like talking to him too — and suddenly his ears turn from a light pink to a deep red that slightly reaches his nose.

you pat him on the shoulder.

"i have to do my rounds." you tell him, getting ready to leave as you put your glass of champagne down, "gotta check on everyone on the team."

"check on me?" atsumu grins.

you wave him off, laughing, "i think i just did."

and that would’ve been the end of it — you walking away from him as you go ahead to check on the rest of his team and him eventually asking bokuto for a ride home.

but there’s something about seeing you walk away from him that sets him on edge, and maybe it’s the alcohol, or the fact that the two of you have been so friendly tonight, but he’d really hate himself in the morning if he doesn’t at least try to make you stay.

"hey!" he calls out, biting his tongue as soon as he does, but when you turn around to face him again, the look on your face almost as curious as his, he finds it really hard to regret stopping you.

you tilt your head, “yeah, tsumu?”

he’s pink in the face, he puts his hand behind his neck, “i know yer probably gonna be busy but…”

and he hesitates, but not because he doesn’t know what to say, he knows very well what to say, he’s been practicing what to say and how to say it in the bathroom mirror every morning for months now — but right now, as you stand in front of him, waiting for him to speak, he’s suddenly at a loss for words.

the pink in his skin turns to red.

you blink, smiling, “atsumu?”

“ah fuck — i’m just gonna say it,” he laughs, almost a bit too randomly, and he says this more to himself than to you.

there’s a second stuck in the air.

and atsumu looks at you, "wanna go for some coffee after this?"

( what he really wanted to say was “do you wanna go on a date with me?” but hey, he’s nervous and he’s flustered, and the coffee thing was the easiest way to ask you out without him wanting to run in a marathon. )

"okay." you smile, nodding lightly.

"okay?" he quips a brow, and then he nods, mirroring your actions as he repeats, "okay!"

atsumu’s smile reaches his eyes, his shoulders rising with his chest as he laughs, and he looks at you diligently, repeating over and over again the word ‘okay!’

"you’re an idiot." you roll your eyes, shaking your head as you laugh, and you turn back on your heels to walk away.

atsumu calls out to you as you go, "well, you’re the one getting coffee with an idiot!"

and just as easily as how he found you earlier in the evening, you’re lost in the crowd again, but this time, atsumu isn’t feeling so cheap and bored with the party.

he walks around, the glass in his hand empty but he’s been refusing to refill it to keep himself sober for later.

a wide smile not once leaving his face, a slight skip in his steps.

"hey," hinata nudges him on the side, taking his attention as he stops to stand with him in a quiet corner, and he beams, "you look happy."

atsumu shrugs, the remnants of his conversation with you still stuck in his mind, and he smiles wider, "it’s a good party."

bokuto looks at hinata, narrowing his eyes slightly in suspicion as he knows well enough that this gala tonight is definitely far from a good party.

"is he drunk?" he frowns, and he turns to atsumu, shaking him lightly, "tsumu, are you drunk?"

he shakes his head.

and hinata chimes, "you want us to take you home?"

an hour ago, coming home sounded like the greatest idea there could be — but now — well, now he has you to look forward to.

"no, stop," atsumu shakes his head, waving both of his friends away as he fixes the way he stands, "i’m not drunk, i’m fine."

and he follows, with a big grin on, "and i'm not riding with you guys tonight."

bokuto and hinata share a look.

and hinata frowns, "cause you know if you are drunk, you’re gonna have to tell us so we can drive you home. you’re already a bad driver when you’re not full of alcohol, who knows how many laws you’ll break when you are drunk–"

but at some point in hinata's words, atsumu spaces out, waving his friend's voice off with a worry as he spots you again in the endless crowd.

it's been a very long time since atsumu's met you, but it really does feel like it was only yesterday when he mustered up the courage to admit to himself that maybe ... in a blue moon ... he's actually fallen in love with you.

he hates this dumb gala - it’s an annoying work event - he had all intentions of skipping, but somehow, somewhere along the lines of realizing you were attending and it meaning he'd get to spend some time with you, he found himself actually being excited for it.

under the yellow lights, with the music in the background and murmurs and chatter from the crowd, it's easy to lose focus in a party like this - but atsumu sees you well and clear.

the smile he doesn't even realize forming reaches his eyes, crinkling just a tiny bit as he finds himself liking looking at you.

"tsumu?" bokuto lightly shakes him, "you listening, buddy?"

"yeah." atsumu shakes his head, pulling himself back to reality and into the conversation, a silly smile on his face as he turns pink, "sorry, i - yeah."

and bokuto looks at him quizzically, "are you sure you're not drunk?"

from afar, atsumu's gaze shifts back to you, watching you intently as he finally notices that you aren't exactly by yourself.

by your side, clumsily standing over you, sakusa blinks heavily, his glass of expensive wine in your hands as he's obviously drank himself into a stupor, and the situation is pretty clear.

it's an innocent encounter - probably.

but it has atsumu's smile dropping when he sees how sakusa looks at you, because even drunk, sakusa really can't hide how much he likes you.

your arm links with sakusa's as you take his keys from him, and carefully, you guide him to walk with you, keeping him close and safe, and atsumu wonders if you'd ever do that for him too.

his chest feels heavy but just like earlier, he really can't bring himself to look away from you.

hinata taps on his shoulder, "you okay?"

and he blinks, and suddenly he's back to where he was again.

atsumu smiles, sighing shyly as he feels embarrassed more than anything else.

the evening is over, but his chest feels so much heavier.

"i think i may need a ride home after all."

[inomios]

𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐒 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌

featuring. timeskip!miya atsumu, bokuto kōtarō, iwaizumi hajime, sakusa kiyoomi + suna rintarō.

warnings. fluff + just the boys being softies w their kids <3

signed. thinking a whole lot about domestic life w my favourites + our little families—idek if these are considered habits but they’re cute so yea :/

ꨄ ATSUMU his son got so used to seeing his dad whine for a kiss before bed now he can’t sleep without one either. you always end up having both of them standing infront of you with messy hair + similarly tired eyes waiting for their kisses, and the puffy cheeked pout on your sons lips that matches his father warms your heart when you watch them play fight to see who gets theirs first. “ay! daddy gets the kisses first cause...j-just cause a said so alright, ya can go next!” even though you normally have to push atsumu off of you when he takes the opportunity to tease your son, dragging out his kisses with a lazy smirk on his face and some exaggerated kissy noises. “just one more angel come on, a was here first anyway—always told ya i’ll never get enough of yer kisses. a aint sharin’” his son gets him back by falling asleep on you so you carry him to bed, atsumu trailing behind you with a few huffs and groans under his breath. “damn brat, hoggin’ all the cuddles too—it ain’t fair.”

ꨄ BOKUTO always greeted you after a trip away with a “hey, hey, hey” before lifting you into his arms—so everytime you pick up your son from kindergarten he decided that he should do the same. hearing a babbled “hey, hey, hey” as he runs towards you and your husband, his smile beaming and fists raised as he approaches you before wrapping his arms around your thigh—straining a little as he tries to lift you up before eventually pouting up at you and raising his arms to be lifted instead. it’s normally bokuto who lifts your son after, pulling him into his arms with a spin as they both giggle—familiarity in the way both their amber eyes gleam when they look at you with bright smiles. “it’s okay buddy! daddy’s so strong he can carry you both, you wanna see?” “koutarou, n-no!” “babe it’s fine, i had extra meat at practice look—“

ꨄ IWAIZUMI it was always obvious when iwaizumi was grumpy despite what he said, and it became even more apparent when you both had a son. it’s pretty funny when you return home to your son and his father having a disagreement. both males standing across from eachother in the living room with matching frowns, their arms crossed as your son pouts up at your husband—given how much bigger he stands above them. the similarity is even more noticeable when both start to grumble after a decent amount of time has passed, iwaizumi side glancing your figure as you fight the smile threatening to spread on your lips at the sight—because your son really was just like his father, maybe theyre both a little stubborn but you know that their frowns will soften as soon as their eyes meet yours because if they could agree on anything it would be that you were their everything.

ꨄ SAKUSA always tended to hold the hem of your jacket when it got a little crowded in public, making sure that you were kept close. you don’t know when your daughter picked up the habit from her father until you were strolling through the supermarket with them both. feeling a familiar tug on the hem of your jacket before turning to see that it was your daughter as she blinked up at you, leaning slightly into your side. “you okay, baby?” you grin when you watch your daughters curls bounce as she nods her head, only to feel sakusa tug on his side of your jacket after with a small pout on his lips realising that his usual spot had been taken. but you feel your heart warm when you notice a smile on kiyoomi’s features under the mask when his daughter finally reaches to grab onto his jacket instead, watching him turn to you with an almost proud look on his face.

ꨄ SUNA it could’ve been coincidence but when you feel your son always crawl his way into your lap to fall asleep you realise just how much like his father he was. tired but familiar green eyes blinking up at you as you brush the darker hair from his face before he nuzzles into you to go to sleep. although you thought he was cute, your husband wouldn’t say the same as he stands over you on the couch, green eyes narrowed and frowning down at the space in your lap that he normally looked forward to occupying after a long day at practice, only for it to now be taken. you stifle a laugh as you watch suna gather the toddler into his arms before taking him to bed, playfully stomping back with a ghost of a pout on his lips but you know he’s going to give him a quick kiss goodnight on his forehead anyway, before grabbing your ankles and yanking you further down the couch, flopping into your lap with a few kisses against your stomach before smooshing his cheek against the skin. “tsk trying to steal my pretty baby—is that it?”

[inomios]

Hi. Um.. im new here and I don’t rlly know if ur taking requests or smthn but if u r, could u write abt kuroo/atsumu going grocery shopping w their s/o but getting lost so they get it announced as “y/n l/n ur child is…” ? If u can’t or don’t want to it’s perfectly fine. Have a great day!😘

"please come pick up your child”

feat. Kuroo, Atsumu, Suna

♡ a/n: LMAO

KUROO

you and Kuroo were out grocery shopping to restock your now empty fridge

and you had sent your boyfriend to go pick up some fruits for you

that was his only job for the record- the fruits

the rest of the grocery list was handled by you, and you quickly madd your way through each of the aisles, picking up what you needed

you were on your last item- cereal. you looked up and down the varying boxes, wondering which one would th two of you would like

“L/n Y/n, please come pick up your child at the register” you heard over the grocery store intercom

you freeze- still holding onto the box of cereal you were looking at

since when did you have a child?

still, you set the box down and made your way over to the registers, thoroughly confused by the situation

you looked around for a child, wondering in what situation a kid would be asking for you

“babe!!” you hear Kuroo call, and you turn your head in the direction of his voice

and there he stood, your very much adult boyfriend standing next to an employee. and in his hands were a variety of fruits

Kuroo turns the employees, thanking them before making his way towards you

“CHILD?” you ask your boyfriend as he places the fruit in the grocery cart

“you see... I couldn’t find you. So the best way for me to find you was to get your attention and bring you to me” he explains

you pull out your phone, waving it in front of him with a quizzical look

“and you didn’t think to text or call?”

“no no I did, this was just funnier. Also I said child because I wanted to see your cute confused face. And I did get to see it, so I see this as an absolute win!”

ATSUMU

the first you heard your name being called over the intercom about a lost child you had ignored it

because you didn’t have a kid, so obviously you must have misheard

maybe the parent’s name was strikingly similar to yours

“L/n Y/n, your child is waiting by the front door” the intercom said once again

they definitely said your name

so you walked towards the store entrance, where you saw Atsumu, completely relieved at the sight of you

he runs over to you, engulfing you into a large hug

“oh my goodness I swear I thought I lost you forever” he sighs, cupping your face to kiss you

“that’s great and all ‘Tsumu but why did you say I was your parent?” you ask

“in all honesty... I panicked and that was the first thing that came out of my mouth”

“so you told them you were my child... and then when you all saw me... you decide that the first thing you want to do is kiss me? when they all were told I'm your parent?” you blink t your boyfriend, waiting for it to all click in his head

Atsumu’s eyes widen, and he turns to the store employees in another frenzy

“oh MY GOD I SWEAR THEY’RE NOT ACTUALLY MY PARENT. Y/N IS MY S/O” he yells, and the employees awkwardly smile at the two of you

“I mean yeah... we kinda figured sir, no need to panic” one of them reassures Atsumu

Atsumu turns back to you with a grin

“see? everything is all sorted out now. any misconceptions are cleared” he says, as if he was expecting some sort of praise or reward

“you may not be my child babe, but you certainly act like one” you sigh, walking away from your boyfriend to finish your shopping

but this time he trails after you, not wanting to get lost a second time

SUNA

you and Suna were out at a department store to buy gifts for an upcoming birthday party, and the two of you took off in separate directions to cover more ground

as you were looking over some nice scarves, you heard what sounded like your name being called

“L/n Y/n, please pick your child up at the register” was said over the speakers

you passed for a moment- but ignored it

you clearly didn’t have a child, so it was more likely that someone with the exact same name as you was in the same store and had lost a child

so you continued browsing through potential gifts, when you hear an employee walk up to you, muttering what sounds like clothing descriptors under their breath

“are you L/n Y/n?” they ask, looking up and down at you, confused

“uh.... yes” you respond, and they urge you to follow them

“I’m sorry, you probably didn’t hear our announcement but your child is waiting for you at the register”

you don’t reply to their words- you’re honestly too in shock that the message you heard was actually for you

but you still follow them to the register to assess the situation- because clearly this was a mistake

“although I have to say, for someone with a grown kid, you look really young!! You must take good care of your skin and- oh well, there he is” the employee says, gesturing to your ‘son’

Suna was sitting on the floor, completely unfazed

“oh hey you’re here” he says, standing to his feet to walk over to you

“my phone died by the way. did you find a gift?” he asks, completely brushing over the most important detail

“why did you tell them you were my kid?”

Suna pauses to think about his answer. but he simply shrugs

“I thought it would be funny. and it was”

before the two of you continue shopping, Suna presses a kiss to your forehead and gives your cheek a small pinch

it didn’t take long for the employees to realize that it was all a joke

[inomios]

calm. satoru gojo x reader

Summary: Tokyo Jujutsu High is being terrorized by the new couple in town.

last chapter   ← calm. →   next chapter

Masterlist

Warnings: Alcohol. Suggestive themes (they can’t keep off each other I am so sorry). Oh! And spoilers for The Shining.

Special thank you to my friend @catoru-gojo 🤠✨ This chapter would’ve taken even longer without your help. Thanks for brainstorming with me, helping with dialogue and, most importantly, sharing your braincell with me 🥺💕

Keep reading