āĖā¹ļ½” i left my keys on your bedroom floor | miya atsumu
wc: 2.4k
summary: atsumu is the clumsiest guy you've ever met; nothing ever goes to plan, especially when it comes to love.Ā
contains: f!reader, use of āmisusā, mostly fluff with a bit of misunderstanding, reader wears heels, some swears, atsumu thinks heās going to have a heart attack but itās just him being him, atsumu is an idiot in loveĀ
a/n: not related to the plot, but take a chance with me and fearless remind me of atsumuās feels in this one (and paper rings will forever be an atsumu song for me)
part of how to be your lover boy (a valentine's collab by augustinewrites & seiwas)
Atsumu thinks this is the dumbest fuck-up he could have ever fucked up.Ā
Wood isnāt supposed to feel this cold, but his leg is freezing rested against it.Ā
Is this what it means to be weak in the knees?
Out of all places, of all times, Miya Atsumu finds himself knelt down on one knee by your bedside, legs feeling like jello at his attempt to look under your bed for his apartment keys.Ā
This wouldnāt be a problem at all, really; he kneels down all the timeāfor lunges during training (the bane of his existence if you ask him), for helping his Ma plant those herbs heās sure she does for Osamu (he hates how the soil sticks to his skin), and for buckling the straps on your heels even, when you need him to (he doesnāt like it, only because he prefers you much more comfortable in softer shoes, unchafed ankles and all).Ā
So, kneeling isnāt really that big of a deal for Atsumuā
ābut youāre there, standing by the bathroom door, staring at him with overwhelming surprise, evidently anticipating something serious enough to bring tears to your eyes.Ā
This is wrong. It isnāt at all what youāre thinkingāhe was just looking for his keys.Ā
āāTsumā¦ā you choke out, mouth partially covered by your shaky hand.Ā
Fuck, if this isnāt the worst way he could possibly do this.Ā
Heās sure his eyes are wide, brows furrowed by a mixture of worry and regret.Ā
āWait,ā he holds two hands up, slowly coming to a stand, āSānot what ya think.āĀ
This is seriously the dumbest way he could fuck this up.Ā
The expression on your face drops, warmth rushing to your cheeks. If Atsumu could describe how you look, heād call it worse than heartbreakāthe horror in your eyes flashing embarrassment and the creases between your brows screaming rejection; what once were lifted cheeks have now sunk, turning into an undeniable frown.Ā
There are tears threatening to spill from your lash line, for a different reason now, he thinks, and itās all his faultāit makes his heart break that heās the sole culprit.Ā
And the sick thing is, despite all this, he still finds you the most beautiful thing heās ever seen, backlit by a halo of fluorescent white that heās tempted to drop everything he originally planned just to do it right now.Ā
āO-oh,ā you mumble, āsorry, I just thoughtāā you close your eyes, taking a deep breath, ānevermind, that was stupid of me, Tsum.ā
When you open your eyes, a single tear falls, and he tries not to comment on how you wipe it quickly, feigning a smile as you walk past him, mumbling something about making breakfast and preparing his lunch for when he heads out.
And, well, he feels shitty, thatās for sure. One, for making you cry, and two, for even making you think, just for a second, that he doesnāt want to marry you.Ā
It wasnāt stupid of you to assume he was proposing at all. Heās hinted at it enough in the past few years, calling you āthe misusā enough times when mentioning why heās heading home early from post-game dinners and parties. His Ma keeps a photo of you and him in his childhood home, and Osamuās given you a family discount at Onigiri Miya now, too (which is only 1% higher than the friends one, but itās the fact that he considers you as family that makes it feel much larger).Ā
He likes coming home to you, likes that you donāt force him to do anything. That if he chooses to stay out, itās all fine by youāheās just stopped looking for that kind of life anymore; itās a lot more fun getting to cuddle up on the couch with you.Ā
His legs still tingle, and he crouches down again with a big sigh. The silver key is there, glistening from the light directed from his phone, and he reaches to grab it, fishing for the metal that, if heās being quite honest, hasnāt fully served its purpose in the past three years anyway.Ā
Four years together, and Atsumu has lived with you for most of them. The only reason you still have separate places by name is because of the apartment he owns in Osaka, meant for training season and game days.Ā
Other than that, home has always been your place.Ā
And lately, heās been thinking of moving somewhere where home can now officially be both of yoursāitās the whole reason he was looking for his keys in the first place, with property managers and realtors coming in to assess the space.Ā
The new placeāheās hoping for it to be somewhere in the middle of both you and him, maybe a bit bigger, who knows? He was planning to ask you about it after the proposalāthe one heās planned and has been trying so hard to keep a secret from you.Ā
Itās a miracle heās managed to keep it this hush so far. Heās got the ring, the venue, the speech, and has even asked Osamu to take the video (even though he knows heāll never let him live down every jitter and stutter heās bound to make). And the date, the oh-so-important Valentineās day that youāll both remember forever.Ā
The living room is awfully quiet when he steps into it, no sign of you and your usual humming to whatever songās been stuck in your head. He walks to the kitchen counter, eyeing a plate of eggs with a bit of fried rice; you packed his lunch, just like you always haveāfatty tuna with some rice and vegetables on the side.
Atsumu thinks he could cry, his upper lip already trembling as he stares at the piece of paper in front of him.Ā
Written in your delicate handwriting is a short note: āgrabbing some grocery, be back later.ā signed with nothingāno ālove youā, no āsee you laterā, no xās and oās. Just nothing. It sucks even more because the grocery is your place, your one escape when heās upset you enough that you canāt even look at him.Ā
Yet, you still made him breakfast, and you still packed his lunchāthatās the only thing giving him hope that he hasnāt fully fucked this up.Ā
.
āSamu, I think am gāna die.āĀ
The scenery beside him whizzes past quickly, creating a blur of blue, green, and white. His head leans against the window, and he adjusts an earbud, increasing the volume to hear the call better.Ā
Osamu sighs on the other end, the sound of clinking pans and crinkling plastic muffled in the background.Ā
āYāsaid that tāMa the last time, whatās it now?āĀ
Atsumu groans, the memory still fresh in his mind; when he called his Ma a little over three years ago, he was a stuttering mess, breath unsteady and voice shaky at 1:00 a.m. The pounding in his chest would not stop, he thought for sure he was going to have a heart attack.Ā
His Ma diagnosed him all right, called it a serious case of āin love with youāābecause, when he recounted everything he could have done to cause any potential uptick of his heart rate, all he could talk about was you. How you held his hand and laughed at his jokes, called him handsome even when he was sweaty and gross; how you nursed him to health even though he was probably stinky and dehydrated from an insane diarrhea episode.Ā
All these years later, and heās even more in love with you.Ā
āI fucked it up, āSamu. The plan ān everythinā? Poof.ā he gestures with his hands, even though he knows audio call doesnāt allow him to be seen. āDunnow if thereāll even be ānyone tāpropose to.āĀ
Then, he tells Osamu everythingāthe search for his keys, kneeling on the floor, the mistaken proposal but how he would have done it there, how he wanted to but didnāt because he actually managed to plan something and didnāt want to throw it away.
But then he said it all wrong, then you cried, and he really did mess it up; he wasnāt even able to say goodbye. Heās miss-called you thrice and youāve only replied with ācanāt talk right now.ā (which he knows is suggested text because you always say ālater, baby.ā or something else more time-efficient).Ā
āYa dumbass,ā Osamu sighs again, words still sharp but tone a bit more rounded, ājust give it time, ān stop catastrophizinā. Yāve put yāself in stupider situations ān hav always made it somehow.āĀ
Atsumu feels like crying, again, but Osamuās always right. He lets out a tear or two, maybe a sob for another five minutes, and when he recovers into small sniffles, Osamu tells him to get some sleep to clear his headāheās holding the line in Onigiri Miya during peak time.Ā
.
His Osaka apartment feels even emptier than usual even though it shouldnāt be all that different. Meetings with realtors and property managers finished an hour ago and all they need is the go signal from him before they put the property up for lease.Ā
He was supposed to stay here until the end of the week, to meet with PR for sponsorship deals and brand campaigns throughout the year. But, the only (non-suggested) text he received from you today was an indication that you were home and heading in early for bed (which, he knows is a lie, because a new episode of your favorite show is airing tonight and thereās no way youāre missing it after last weekās cliffhanger).Ā
And he canāt, just canāt, leave you thinking that he doesnāt want to marry you.Ā
So he decides, fuck it, and packs it upābooks a last minute train ticket back to you and hopes to god that he gets the words right this time.Ā
.Ā
Heās never been this nervous in his life.Ā
The olympics is a close runner-up, but nothing compares to this, standing outside your door with his finger hovering over the doorbell. Itās funny, because he has your keys, knows your passcode tooābut it feels wrong entering your space without the assurance that you still want him to.Ā
What makes him ring the bell is the sickening twist in his stomach that warns him: this fuck-up could make him lose you.
So he presses it once, then twice for good measure, and before he can do it thrice, youāre opening the door, in sweatpants and a hoodie (his hoodie) as you rub the puffiness out of your eyes.Ā
Youāre beautiful like this, too, he thinksādressed in his clothes, staring at him with those eyes, standing in front of him and looking like the rest of his life.Ā
āPlease donāt break up witā me.āĀ
The words stumble out of him freely, with barely any time for him to process it. Atsumu feels each pounding in his chest and knows now, just as his Ma said, that itās all the love he has yet to let out.
āIāā he begins, hesitating. Heās still wearing the same joggers and bomber jacket from this morning.
His hands clench into fists and he pushes them in his pockets, unsure what to do with them; the bottom of his lip trembles and itās starting to make sense why people tell him and Osamu apart by āthe one who always criesā.Ā
āT-this morninā,ā he looks up to find you leaning against your door, listening, āWas lookinā āround cos I left mah keys on yār bedroom floor.āĀ
You nod, tilting your head to urge him on.Ā
āAnd I was kneelinā,ā he breathes out, āand yāthought it was somethinā else, but I said it wasnāt. And I shouldnāt āav ācos it came out all wrong and it wasnāt what I planned. Then ya cried but still made me breakfast ān lunch and it was good, just like everythinā ya make is. But ya went to the grocery, and baby,ā he chokes up, tears falling, āām sorry. Sānot what I meant. Please donāt break up witā me.āĀ
Atsumu is a bumbling, stumbling, stuttering mess as he cries in front of you, his incoherent rambling a jumble of all his mixed-up feelings. Heās sure he looks like dumb as hell right now, a fully grown man in tears at your doorābut your brows furrow in concern, jaw tightening as the pout on your lips deepen. Then, you take a step closer, arms stretched out to pull him into your shoulder for a hug.Ā
This is why Atsumu loves youā
This is why Atsumu has never been more sure of the future he wants.Ā
ābecause, even when heās fucked things up and has made an absolute mess of himself, youāre always there, picking him right back up.Ā
āTāsokay Tsum,ā you hush, rubbing circles on his back, āthereās no need to explain.āĀ
He sniffles, tucking his face against your neck. Itās impossible to miss the sadness underlying your comfort.Ā
Youāre wrongāitās not okay, and he absolutely has to explain.Ā
After heās calmed down and the tears have subsided, he pulls away, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand and apologizing for all the snot he left on your hoodie.Ā
You look confused and a little bit surprised as he takes a step back away from you, his hand immediately reaching inside the pocket of his joggers.Ā
āYāknow I canāt keep anythinā from ya, right, baby?ā he flashes you a small smile, a little nervous.Ā
You nod, because itās true. Not a single birthday or celebration has ever surprised you because Atsumuās always ruined it; he just canāt keep a secret from you. Either that, or things just never go accordingly.Ā
āWell, I kept this one real good. Planned it ān all. Had everythinā set.ā
The velvet box in his pocket is smooth to the touch, his fingers turning it over. It feels tangible and real now, a momentās away from his life being changed, forever.Ā
He feels like crying again.Ā
āWas gāna do it on Valentineās, ācos I had it all rehearsed ān shit.āĀ
Realization dawns on your face, eyes wide and your chest caught on holdāas if youāre expecting the wrong assumption again.Ā
But when Atsumu gets down on one knee, reaching from his pocket to present to you a ring hidden in red velvet, his fingers tremble when he says, āKnow sānot Valentineās, but can I be your forever Valentine?āĀ
You blink once, then the tears fallāthe smile on your face is a little bit wobbly but an awful lot in love. You kneel on the floor with him, your hand reaching out to cup his cheek, pulling him in for a kiss.
The both of you are a tear-y mess on the floor, but when you part, he leans his forehead against yours, ring held up between his fingers as he asks just to be extra sure, āSoā¦ sānot a goodbye kiss is it?āĀ
You smack him on the chest before slipping in your finger.Ā
āSāa yes kiss, Tsum.ā
thank you notes: @augustinewrites for suffering through this atsumu train with me & @soumies + @mysugu for helping me with tsumu characterisation and for listening to me ramble abt this fic!!
comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ā”
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