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tetsurobunni · 2 years

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Blindsided

☞ atsumu miya x reader drabble (maybe intro to fic? who knows)

☼ frenemies? bickering=flirting, atsumu being a little shit

☼ i definitely wrote this just so i could make atsumu completely whipped; also, the word fuck is used flippantly, sue me

atsumu doesn't know when it happens, but it does.

“it” meaning the absolutely fucking confusing feelings contradicting his day-to-day life.

okay, that might be a little overdramatic, but cut him some slack. he hadn’t had feelings like this since kita shinsuke patted his cheek after a match at age 14. considering that was before atsumu even knew “bisexual” existed, having those same feelings at age 22 was slightly fucking concerning.

especially since they were about you.

one second it's flirtatious banter to annoy the living hell out of you like he does with everyone else. the next, he's tripping over his tongue because of your damn hand held to his forehead.

sure, it's been a few months since shoyo had introduced him to "one of his best friends from high school" and time flies quickly blah blah blah...

but what the fuck happened?

you two didn't mesh. didn't flow, didn't...whatever people that are made for each other do. he flirted. you rolled your eyes. he picked at you. you picked at him. sometimes there were even inanimate flying objects involved-but never feelings.

"miya. are you listening to me?" shit. he had completely zoned out. "of course i am, but ya got it wrong. m'fine." you didn't look so convinced, so he threw on a smirk, held his left pinky out, and said, "pinky promise?" que your infamous eye roll. he swears one day those pretty eyes of yours are going to get stuck.

"pretty eyes?"

atsumu not-so-gracefully chokes on his water, glaring daggers at your hand that patted his back lightly. clearing his throat and acting like he hadn't just almost hacked up a lung, he turned towards you with glamourous fluency and said, "what?"

oh my god.

he mentally bashed his head against the nearest wall as you burst into full-body laughter, your smile so wide it closed your eyes, hair falling over your forehead, cheeks a bright rosy-red.

atsumu forgot what he was supposed to be embarrassed about.

“earth to miyaaa, hellooo miya atsumu,” he broke out of the trance he was in, immediately coming to the horrifying realization that he was fucking staring at you, “anyone in there?”

he rolled his eyes (definitely not because he could feel his body temperature rise even more from your direct eye contact), scooched lower on his bed, and promptly covered his head underneath the comforter.

he heard your muffled chuckle from under the thick duvet. the bed dipped beside his left hip and he let the thought of you sitting there soak into his brain all the while blatantly ignoring the stirring in his chest.

“i didn’t really upset you…did i? i know you’re sick, i shouldn’t have been so…so,” you trailed off allowing atsumu to finish your sentence with a garbled “annoyin’?”

you laughed, saying, “nah, i’m never annoying, miya. just should have known you’d be a little more sensitive right now.”

that was all it took for him to shove the comforter down to his chin, eyes set in a glare and a middle finger just barely visible from the small opening he’d created.

he glowered at your inability to hold in the bubble of laughter, and even more when you had to cover your mouth with your hand when the smile stretched too far. “oh, please spare me tha’ court’sy,” atsumu grumbled, grabbing the edge of the comforter to yet again hide himself from more embarrassment.

“no-no look, look, i’m sorry, i am, but you were pouting, like a cute little puppy dog and i couldn’t help myself-“

“‘ya think i’m cute?” he hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but what the hell.

and, well, he might be running a fever, and the only light on in the room is coming from a dim lightbulb that he keeps forgetting to change, but atsumu could have sworn to tokyo and back that you were blushing.

“aww now look at ‘ya, yer blushin’”

the absolutely offended look on your face would have made anyone else delve into apologies, but not atsumu. he reveled in getting this reaction out of you.

“i am absolutely not blushing, miya.”

“sure ‘ya aren’t”

“i’m not”

“oookay…”

“you’re delusional”

“says tha’ one who called me cute”

“you complimented me first!”

“did not”

“did too”

“now yer the delusional one now, sweetheart” he bit back a smirk, watching as you rolled your eyes for the thousandth time tonight. at that same time, he watched as those same eyes widened, signaling to every nerve in his brain that you had come up with an idea.

and boy, was he right.

just a beat of silence had passed between the bickering, but somewhere in those brief few seconds, you had shifted your position from the side of the bed to laying your arms directly across atsumu’s chest, just inches away from his face.

‘m gonna die.

he screamed internally at his heart, telling it to slow the fuck down because you were right there and could feel, hell, probably hear the hammering beats of his heart. it couldn’t get any worse than this. this was horrible-

and, right on que, in non-mistakable y/n fashion, you made the situation worse.

he watched as you looked at him through your eyelashes, barely fluttering them, while ever-so-slightly pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. at that, he felt his soul promptly leave his body right there.

“c’mon, atsumu, are you sure you don’t think my eyes are pretty?”

july 10th, 6:04 p.m. 22 years old.

cause of death: tripping headfirst into a pit of snakes: aka: atsumu miya coming to the realization that he is absolutely totally fucking whipped.

and he didn’t even see it coming.

#haikyuu!!#miya atsumu #atsumu miya #haikyuu atsumu #haikyuu #drabble #atsumu x you #atsumu x reader

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tetsurobunni · 2 years

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#AHHHHHH #SCREAMS #IMGONNASHITMYPANTS

single (teaser)

⤷ word count : more than 10k!! woo !!

⤷ characters : miya atsumu x reader

⤷ warnings : roommate!atsumu, f2l, little bit of angst, major fluff, he keeps a hair tie around his wrist for you, atsumu is heartbroken at first, he’s not poor but can’t find a house to stay in, slightly suggestive shit, atsumu is kinda a crybaby abt his feelings !!

⤷ summary : Three years after graduation, and Atsumu’s life is nowhere near what he’d planned. He’s being kicked out of his apartment in three days, the roots of his hair are starting to show, and he really fucking hates that Driver’s License song.

⤷ author's note : the title has absolutely nothin' to do with what's in the actual fic !! it's that the neighbourhood song bc the lyrics "i don't know if we should be alone together / still got a crush that's obvious" and "i don't think that we should be around each other / when you're in a room you get my eyes" is miya atsumu tysm. (i actually wrote this for @tetsurobunni bc he is a whORE, but yk :D) (@gojossalamistick is in on it too cuz eye <3 let them read all of it in advance, guard dog rights)

Without wanting to or not, most of Inarizaki knew Miya Atsumu. Not as himself, but they knew of him. They knew his jersey number, how many victories he’d helped carry their school to, knew him by his last name and his brotherly duo.

Atsumu hated that.

"M’not." He could feel the smooth material of his ruined button in his pockets. "Did ya enjoy graduation?"

"I guess so," you’d sighed, tapping the bottoms of your shoes against the concrete. "Don’t know, it’s just a day. But it kinda feels sad."

"What d’you mean?" Atsumu knew what you meant. He hated nearly everyone there, and yet a part of his chest ached at the thought of leaving. It had been all he’d looked forward to, and now that the moment was staring him in the face, he wanted to run away from it.

"I think I’m gonna miss it, that's all." And then you’d pushed your shoulder into his. "Gonna miss you, Atsumu."

Atsumu.

"Hey, c’mere." You’d stood, reaching down for his hand with an expectant gaze. And Atsumu’s grandmother had always taught him to never keep a good thing waiting. So he’d grabbed your hand, had let you tug him to his feet and over to a random kid—he still can’t remember his name.

"Will you take a picture of us, please?"

You had been cold when you’d pressed into his side. Not freezing, but cold enough for him to shuffle a little closer to you, pull his fists from his pockets to fall by his sides, consider wrapping an arm around your waist, and think against it. "Here," he’d murmured, and had pressed the button into your hands with a wince. A button. Goddammit, Atsumu, a button? But he’d wanted you to remember him. You’d always remembered him as Atsumu. The Atsumu who liked that NSYNC song that played on the radio for a week straight, even if he didn’t know the lyrics. The Atsumu who’d failed a math test and cried about it. You’d always taken care to know the boy he was.

He wanted that to stay.

"Say cheese."

Atsumu can’t remember if he smiled.

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tetsurobunni · 3 years

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by the time you wake up, kuroo isn’t in bed anymore.

and that’s fine — you’re usually used to this anyways — but today, today is a sunday, and that means it’s actually one of the few times a week the two of you can waste the day away by staying in bed.

so when you roll over this morning, trying to embrace your husband and waking up to the fact that he isn’t there … now that makes you annoyed.

it's barely ten am, but the whirring of the washing machine is what gets you out of bed, your footsteps trudging as you keep a pillow closely tight against your chest.

"you’re doing laundry?" your voice comes out as a groan as you enter the kitchen, the washing machine a few steps beside the sink clearly having a reason to be so loud.

kuroo looks up to see you, his glow filling the room as he gives you a smile, “yes, i am.”

and you grumble, plopping down on the kitchen counter, “why?”

kuroo's sorting through the next pile of clothes he's readying to put in the machine, but for a minute, before he does so, he walks over to where you sat, giving you a quick kiss on the head as he tells you "good morning."

and he walks back to the laundry basket.

“we have no clean clothes.” he tells you, his voice cheery.

and you reply, your voice groggy, “why?”

“why don’t we have clean clothes?” kuroo teases, asking your question back to you, and you love him, but you hate that he's this energetic when it comes to waking up.

it is too early - it's a sunday - and ten am is way too early.

“it’s not laundry day.” you rub at your eyes, waving the rest of your sleep away, and you mutter, “not yet, at least.”

“i wanted to keep myself busy,” kuroo shrugs, looking at you with a lazy grin, “i had nothing left to do after i got back from my run.”

and to this, you blink.

you look at him, “you went running?”

“after i went to the store to pick up some groceries.” he nods, taking a seat on the counter next to you.

so, all morning, whilst you were in bed, he went running, went to the store, and is now doing laundry.

you throw your pillow at him.

(it misses, and he grins, "you’ve got terrible aim." you throw at him again what’s nearest to you — a spoon — and it hits him in the shoulder, and he yells, "i was joking!")

“i can’t believe you,” you scoff, folding your hands over your chest, “you had an entire day while i was asleep.”

kuroo rubs at his shoulder.

and you look at him, “why didn’t you wake me?”

“uhm, excuse me.” he scoffs — loud — “i did try to wake you… repeatedly.”

and you scoff too, huffing lightly as your shoulders rise, “i don’t remember.”

kuroo shakes his head, his mouth falling into a surprised smile as his voice raises, “you bit my hand and threatened to sign divorce papers if i tried to wake you again!"

“that does not sound like me.” you refuse to look at him in disbelief, stubbornly shaking your head as he continues to scoff.

kuroo gives you a look, holding out his left hand as he grins "here," and shows you a bite mark - allegedly, from you - marking his wrist.

“oh my god,” your mouth falls, “i did bite you.”

and honestly, kuroo's more surprised you didn't remember that you bit him more than you actually biting him, because honestly, him trying to wake you up before noon on a sunday? that's on him, that's his fault.

your mouth purses into a teasing smile, “you should’ve tried harder.”

and kuroo rolls his eyes, but the way he grins at you is only full of love, “i was pretty sure i was gonna lose a finger if i tried to wake you again.”

“that’s because it’s a sunday,” you laugh, shoulders rising as you make your point, “and who would wake up before noon on a sunday?”

you tilt your head to look at him, and he does the same. the smile on his face easily matching yours, but there's a specific glint in his eyes that easily tell he's teasing.

“don’t look at me like i’m the crazy person here, i am doing your laundry for you.” he laughs, propping his head up on his right hand as he doesn't feel a single urge to look away now.

and you tease, "at 10 in the morning?"

and kuroo tells you, “you forget that i actually like the mornings.”

“yes,” you agree, humming slightly, “like a freak.”

kuroo laughs again, his shoulders rising with his chest, and it's definitely moments like these that he thanks his past self for doing whatever it was that he did to get him here - with you - now.

you have always been his favorite part of the morning.

he kisses your head, “don’t you sweet talk me.”

and you smile, but he doesn't let you say anything back, because kuroo kisses you again, his smile easily bleeding through your mouth as he does so, and he does it in intervals in which he kisses you once just to pull away just to kiss you all over again.

the last kiss he gives you is longer, his eyes closed, leaning slightly closer to your face, and when he pulls away, the first thing he looks at is you.

“good morning.” kuroo smiles.

and you tell him, grinning, “if you hadn’t gotten up so early, you could’ve kissed me good morning in bed.”

kuroo's smile falls, his eyebrows furrowing, and a loud scoff falling from his mouth as he realizes that - oh my god, he could've done that in bed.

he shakes his head repeatedly, looking over his shoulder to watch the spinning washing machine do it's job, and casually, he looks back to you with an innocent smile on his face.

"i mean -" and he shrugs, "there’s no reason for us to be watching the laundry right now."

you quirk a brow, your smile teasing.

kuroo looks at you, a lazy smile on his face, "we can still go back to bed."

and you laugh, “but coming back to bed isn’t so morning-person of you.”

kuroo shakes his head again, laughing with you as he raises both his hands in denial, “me? a morning person? i hate the mornings.”

and when he stands up from the counter, taking your hand to ask you to stand up with him, you don't resist at all. his eyes crinkling from laughter.

for a second, he just stands there with you, in the middle of the kitchen, his hand in yours, a smile on his face and stars in his eyes, and he absolutely cannot wait to kiss you good morning again.

so he does.

kuroo pulls you in, and it's another kiss just because he wants to, and it's sweet and long, and he's smiling, but he doesn't let that stop him from keeping you close.

he lets you pull away - only with the promise that he's going to kiss you again soon.

“thank you for doing the laundry.” your hands are linked behind his neck, and his arms fall on your waist.

kuroo smiles, so deeply in love with you, “thank you for the hand injury.”

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tetsurobunni · 3 years

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The Winner Takes It All

sakuatsu kinda songfic ; 2.1k words

ship (s) : sakusa kiyoomi x miya atsumu

somewhat canon compliant, spoilers for haikyuu manga

angst, no happy ending, blame abba for this (inspired by “the winner takes it all” by abba)

(some of the italicized dialogue is from the song)

five years

five long, but at the same time, too short, years.

five years filled with months and days full of excitement, victory, losses, gratitude, friendship, comfort.

love.

heartbreak.

sakusa kiyoomi would say those five years were the best, and worst, years of his life.

they were the best because he was able to play the sport he loved with (he begrudgingly admits) friends he ended up loving, too. because his talents were recognized. because his inhumanely flexible appendages were the object of fascination instead of disgust (most of the time). because he realized just how comforting bokuto kotaro’s hugs really were. because hinata shoyo drew a curved line next to the two moles above his eyebrow to make a smiley face in every photo they posted. because shugo meian recognized his lack of social battery and never made him stay at press events longer than he could handle.

they were the worst because of his parents underlying disapproval that coated their conversations over meals. because of the rock wall he had put up to keep him shut out from prying eyes. because of the soreness in his limbs after an extra long practice. because of the games that felt more like battles; battles in which they came up short. because he barely had time to spend time with komori, the one person who he knew understood him the most. because, eventually, he knew he wouldn’t be playing with all his friends he grew to love. because of all of the times he felt like giving up. like nothing was ever going to be enough.

but, for the most part, the good outweighed the bad almost tenfold. hinata and bokuto alone allowed for enough sunshine to get him through some of his darkest days with a smile alone.

he loved this team. they worked well together for almost four years, six if you include the years sakusa had spent at university.

after the olympics ended, hinata had decided his time with msby was coming to an end. he claimed to have forgotten how much he missed his old teammates, and revealed the manager from sao paulo had offered him a contract to continue his professional career in brazil. the news hit all of them hard, of course, but sakusa had always imagined hinata returning to brazil eventually.

after many tears and globs of snot from bokuto and atsumu alike, meian decided they needed to stop moping and do something.

so, the team had gone out for drinks that weekend to celebrate. sakusa had a knack for going to those get-togethers-much to the shock of his cousin.

what could he say? watching hinata, bokuto, and atsumu slur the words to some bubble-pop song while trying not to fall off the tables is somewhat amusing, but that wasn’t what he liked the most.

no, his favorite part of these nights were when atsumu would simmer down to come sit by his side, carding through the short hairs on the nape of his neck. they would be in their own world, mumbling little nothings into each other’s ears, stealing kisses in between sips of their drinks.

within his first few months on the msby team, sakusa had realized atsumu miya was a problem. the blonde never took him seriously, never keened away from his glares or even batted an eye when he yelled at him during practice. sakusa sneered at the fox-like grins atsumu would give him at any given moment, at the carefree way he would sling his arm over sakusa’s shoulders.

sakusa blames meian for how their relationship started. the captain was the one who handed him the drink that night in attempts to get sakusa to “loosen up and have fun.” The drink ended up loosening his lips instead. when hinata had asked atsumu who out of the whole team he wanted to kiss the most and sakusa heard his name slip from the latter's lips, he had blurted out “me too” without skipping a beat.

from there came embarrassment, then acknowledgement, then admittance, then knowing, then learning, then loving.

those were the best years of his life because atsumu miya was able to crumble his facade. and, in the process, make sakusa fall in love.

it was scary just how easily sakusa had fallen in love with atsumu miya.

after their celebration for hinata, he quickly realized that shouldn’t have been what he was scared of.

hinata had left two days later, insisting he didn’t want the team to see him off because he would cry too much. sakusa had given him a hug that sent the middle blocked into a fit of sobs, and left with a solemn goodbye.

afterwards, he went to get more onigiri for him and atsumu, pausing in front of a window to admire the necklace that adorned his neck. it was the one atsumu had given him for their second anniversary. the memory was a fond one, one that made crinkles appear by the corners of his eyes. after the feeling passed, he continued home.

some part of him wishes he had never gone back to the apartment that day. wishes that he would have just kept walking, maybe all of a sudden forgot the past few years. but, of course, that didn’t happen.

what happened was the silence that gripped his throat when he opened the door to his and atsumu’s shared apartment. the panic that struck his heart when he still didn’t hear the sound of his lover’s laugh echoing against the walls. the punch to his gut when he realized that atsumu was gone.

sakusa remembers that day vividly. replayed it too many times to count.

those were the worst years of his life because atsumu miya was able to crumble his facade. then, after he made sakusa fall in love, made his heart crumble along with it.

and now, after five years playing with the jackals and a year after atsumu left, they’ve met again.

“so, we know that you have some old teammates that are your opposers today, sakusa-san. how does it feel it be playing against them?” the reporter in front of him had refrained from asking any personal questions, but it seems like his curiosity had gotten the better of him. “it’s refreshing, being on opposing teams. it’s always a good challenge playing against hinata.”

“what about atsumu miya? from what i remember, you two were pretty close.” damn. sakusa had hoped the reporter hadn’t noticed his blatant attempt at ignoring the setter. “yea...same with him,” he spoke, drifting off, “he’s improved even more since we last spoke.”

by some magic, or curse, the very man he was speaking about turned his head to meet sakusa’s eyes. even though it had been a year with no contact, save instagram pictures, the hurt in his heart came full throttle. he forced his eyes away like looking at the blonde burned him.

maybe it did. it felt like it did.

“oi, is it my turn ‘ta get doted on? the cameras need’a see this pretty face, y’know?” sakusa could see the smirk even before he turned around. why had he come up here? the absolute audacity- “hey, omi. how’ya doin’?”

every nerve in his body snapped. he cursed at the warm feeling that pooled into his chest. why did his body still react this way after what atsumu had done to him?

“don’t call me that, miya,” he didn’t dare turn his head, “you lost that privilege when you left.”

this hurt more than he thought it would. when he found out three months ago that the jackals were playing asas in a tournament, he tried to prepare himself. all the recitations in the world couldn’t have prepared him for this.

“ah, um, sorry, kiyoomi.” he spit out his own name like venom, “sakusa. sakusa, to you.” he hoped atsumu could feel the hate in his words. but, as always, he ignored it. “i missed bein’ on the same court as ‘ya. weird bein’ across the net though. remember when-” sakusa scoffed. he had to be joking, right? “miya, leave me alone. don’t you have an interview?”

apparently, atsumu had had enough of talking to sakusa’s back. he made his way around so that he was facing him directly. sakusa refused to meet his eyes.

“sakusa, look, i’m sorry. i just...saw a better opportunity! and i-” sakusa cut him off, “and you didn’t want me holding you back.” he used that moment to finally meet atsumu’s eyes.

a mistake.

“i don’t want to talk about things we’ve gone through,” he choked out, cursing at the tightening of his throat, “though it’s hurting me, now it’s history.” sakusa hardened himself as to not give into the look in atsumu’s eyes. no matter how sad he looked, he still left him with no second glances. “omi...i,”

“no, atsumu. you don’t get to ‘omi’ me. you were the one who left me. not the other way around.” he paused to catch his breath, ignoring the looks he was receiving from the reporter. “i tried to call you. text you. text shoyo, call shoyo to ask about you, messaged you on instagram, whatsapp- hell i even wrote you letters! for what? for absolutely nothing.” he was on a tangent now, chest heaving as tears pricked at his eyes.

“i’ve played all my cards, and that’s what you’ve done too. the difference is, while you were playing and improving with shoyo, i was at our home, wondering what i did wrong.” there were far too many people observing now, but sakusa could care less. he had yet to break eye contact with atsumu, choosing to ignore the tears that were rolling down his cheeks.

“i was in your arms, thinking i belonged there,” he shoved his pointer finger roughly into atsumu’s chest, “but i was a fool. i was a fool to think you could love someone as much as you loved yourself.” atsumu flinched like sakusa had slapped him across the face.

good.

“omi- sakusa, please, i can’t stand you looking like this,” atsumu pleaded, “please, let me explain-” sakusa looked at him as if he had caught fire right there in the gym. “explain? now you want to explain?” a grimace overtook atsumu’s face and before he could say anything else, sakusa continued.

“i apologize if it makes you feel bad seeing me so tense, miya,” he spit out, voice soaked in bitter sarcasm, “but what was it you said that time? ‘the winner takes it all, the loser has to fall’? well guess what, miya. you won.” he stopped to look him head to toe, “congratulations.”

that was the final blow. atsumu dropped onto the barstool behind him, head in his hands. he yet again willed his body to not go and wipe the tears from the blonde’s face.

sakusa blinked. when had he gotten so exhausted? there was definitely more wetness that covered his cheeks than he remembered. he wiped it off with the sleeve of his jersey, turning to leave.

“wait, please...” sakusa stopped, but refused to turn back around.

“no, atsumu. there’s nothing more to say. no more ace to play, no more anything. i’m done.” he took a deep breath, and continued to walk away.

meian came over to shield sakusa from the onslaught of reporters that had made their way to get their scoop of the drama. he payed no mind. he let the numb pass over his body.

silently, he said goodbye to atsumu miya for the last time.

so the winner takes it all,

and the loser has to fall.

takes it all, has to fall,

and it’s plain, why complain?

#sakuatsu #sakusa kiyoomi #kiyoomi x atsumu #Miya Atsumu #haikyuu atsumu #atsumu miya #sakuats #atsumu angst #sakusa angst #sakusa kiyoomi x atsumu miya #sakuatsu angst #abba #abba makes for good angst #winner takes it all #haikyuu!!#haikyuu angst

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tetsurobunni · 3 years

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#EVERYONENEEDSADRUNKOMIINTHEIRLIFE #SCREAMS

sakusa is drunk.

which is weird, because he’s never actually been drunk before.

he’s drank a few times here and there, sometimes out of courtesy, other times just because everyone else was doing it and he didn’t really want to explain why he wasn’t drinking — but he’s never really been fond of it.

because, for sakusa, alcohol is … messy.

"hey!" he comes up to you, his face flushed a light pinkish glow, and your eyes dart to his hands where you find the culprit of it all — a half empty champagne glass of dom pérignon.

your eyes crinkle as you smile.

for the first time since you’ve met him, sakusa kiyoomi, is drunk.

"hi?" you quirk a brow, your smile widening into crooked confusion as you’re suddenly very surprised at him coming up to you.

the night is young.

the party the volleyball league is hosting, exclusively inviting japan’s best and brightest teams, only started an hour ago, so to you, it’s not only weird that sakusa came up to you, but it’s even weirder that he’s already flustered from the alcohol.

"how many have you had?" you ask, the amused grin in your expression only increasing when he brings his head closer to yours to hear you better.

tonight, sakusa is wearing a tux.

his gorgeous frame fitting easily in a custom made suit of black and white. his hair combed back in its usual manner with his curly fringe falling neatly on his forehead.

he looks very nice tonight.

he shakes his head, "four."

leave it to sakusa kiyoomi for having four glasses of expensive champagne in the first course of the party.

"you look really nice tonight." he tells you, leaning in closely again, and you want to tell him that he really doesn’t have to do that since it’s really not as loud as he’s making it out to be.

you smile, "you look really nice too."

"i knew you were gonna say that." sakusa replies, his stoicism bleeding through his words.

and your shoulders rise as you laugh, "you just wanted to hear me say it, huh?"

and sakusa smiles, which is weird cause he’s never actually smiled at you before, but then you remember he’s drunk, so you guess this is part of that illusion too.

he takes another sip from his glass, "yes."

"you don’t like being here, do you?" you ask him, the ambience of the dark event hall setting a certain tone for the evening.

and sakusa looks at you, with his pinkish glow from the alcohol, "are you and miya dating?"

that … is not what you were expecting.

"alright," the grin on your face waves him off as you take away his drink, "that’s enough champagne for tonight."

sakusa’s brows knit together as you take away the glass in his hand, the edge of his lips moving slightly downwards as you do so, and there’s a nagging voice in his head telling him just how stupid he is — though he doesn’t really know why.

"sorry." he tells you, "i don’t know what to say."

and he’s suddenly very upset that this evening is just starting, because right now, all he’d really wanna do is go home.

he rolls his eyes, "even when i’m sober, i don’t know what to say."

"you can say anything you want." you smile, putting a hand on his shoulder as you try to soothe away the frown still lingering on his face.

he perks up, "even when i’m–"

"even when you’re sober," you laugh lightly, finishing his sentence for him, "yes."

the gala is set to go on for the rest of the evening, the rest of MSBY scattered in the crowd as they mingled and drank and danced with the other teams.

sakusa never liked to mingle or drink or dance, so as usual, he’s left in the corner to himself, drinking expensive champagne, in a suit that makes him uncomfortable.

all he remembers is seeing you in the crowd, and feeling the exact same way he does everytime he sees you.

he looks at you, "don’t date miya."

and you reply, with a smile on your face, "okay."

but he suspects that you’re only saying that to shut him up and calm him down.

sakusa tells you, leaning closely again, "don’t date anyone."

and you laugh, shoulders rising, "okay."

and you might’ve just said that to say it, but there’s a big weight off of his chest just now when he heard you agree.

he’s planning to tell you how he feels. he just needs more time thinking about it. he just needs to be sure that when he does, you won’t tell him that you can’t because you’re with someone else.

he wishes you didn’t take away his glass.

maybe if he took another sip, he might actually be able to tell you now.

"i wanna go home." he chooses to tells you instead.

but when you nod and interlock his arm with you, guiding him to walk as you slightly hold him up, there’s a great warmth in his chest that tells him he made the right decision.

you give him a smile, "okay."

what was that saying? a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts?

he never cared for that. for all he knew, he never had any interest in being drunk or drinking alcohol at all.

but tonight, as you hold him closely, readying to take him home because he asked, he realizes that the pink in his face isn’t only just from the alcohol.

"i’m taking you home, omi."

and he is suddenly very aware that he would probably attend a hundred more parties that make him uncomfortable, if he knew that you’d be there with him too.

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tetsurobunni · 3 years

Text

𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓

pairings: Nanami Kento x fem! reader

warnings: explicit content below

You sat on the far side of the living room, observing the way your boyfriend, Nanami Kento held the black ink pen in his right hand. Whenever he's in a working mood, you decide that distancing yourself is the best option.

Except for the past two weeks, work is all he seems to be interested in. The only time the both of you had any time together was before bed, which Nanami was always the first to sleep and the first to wake.

You wished for more attention but didn't exactly know how to bring up the topic without coming off too strong or clingy. The idea that fathomed in your mind was to have a date night, with hopes that your dearest boyfriend would the endless work cycle.

You plant the soles of the white crew socks onto the shiny hardwood floor, making a path towards the dining table. "Nanamiiii," you drag out, "Let's go out on a date!"

He glances over at you from his current task of paperwork. His blue eyes had the ability to hold you in place, especially when it's about an inquiry such as this one.

"Y/N, do you even have a place in mind?" He sighs, the disinterest rattled with his voice. You unfold a flyer from the pocket of your gray shorts, something you've been holding onto for at least a week. Handing off the colorful paper to Nanami, you pointed out the key details.

"Look, there's a drive-in movie starting in an hour and it's only ten minutes away. If we get going now-"

Nanami's head began to shake, the idea you barely laid out was falling right before your eyes.

"Honey, we can't possibly try to fit this in. I'll take you someplace nice another day, alright?" he consoles, but you couldn't believe what you were hearing.

"No. You've been so invested in work that it's gotten to the point where I'm feeling ignored. I try to bring up something and you just turn it down? You can stay here and work, I'll go enjoy the movie alone," you spat, emphasizing the word alone.

Before you could completely turn away, Nanami's arm lace around your waist, pulling you down onto his awaiting lap. You settle back against his chest, your fingers running along the arm bounded around you.

"I'm sorry...I didn't realize that you felt that way. At all. If we hurry, we should make it just in time without missing not even a minute's worth," he corrects himself, earning a giddy squeal from you in response.

You jump to your feet, a hand resting along Nanami's jawline. "What are we waiting for? Finally, a date !"

—— ‹ ‧₊˚༉‧₊˚✧ ˳˚॰ ⊹ .˚ › ——

"Seven o'clock on the dot, exactly as I planned," Nanami smirks to himself as he yanks the keys from the ignition. Just as he planned it, you arrived at the lot with not even a second to spare. The lot was full, leaving you both to be forced to remain in the back.

The screen was decently clear but what made the experience all the more enjoyable was that Nanami and you were the only car around, granting some kind of privacy.

You peer over to Nanami, who's wearing a navy blue button-down with a crimson tie and black slacks. Even for a date, he still manages to dress professionally. You simply threw on a red wrap dress with matching heels. You love how the red complements your skin. Your hair was pinned up due to the lack of time but it added a sense of elegance to your night attire.

As the film continued through, you notice that Nanami had a look of boredom sprawled across his face. You reach down to the small buckle of your heels to remove them, knowing how much Nanami hated shoes on the car seat. You fold your legs underneath you while leaning towards the bored man.

"You don't look too happy, is the movie boring to you?" You begin, a hand running through the neatly combed locks of blonde hair. Nanami's lips curved into a smile by your touch before replying, "No, just a little lost is all."

Without another word, you pressed your lips onto his, a slow exchange between the two of you. Nanami's arms instantly cling to your hips, urging you to fill the space atop his lap. You climb over the middle console and onto your destined spot, straddling Nanami.

"Can I...entertain you instead?" You grin, now face to face with him. Nanami's lips latch onto your neck, trailing soft pecks along the skin. "Are you suggesting sex in the car...if so, I might have to agree," Nanami hummed. You caught a glimpse at the man, his eyes laced with the glimmer of passion.

You bring another kiss onto Nanami, this one much more heated than the last. His hands roam down your back, squeezing your body against his. You roll your hips insatiably into him, desperate for any kind of friction he could offer.

After two weeks of little to no contact, the overwhelming need is what guides your mind, or until Nanami suddenly took control over the situation. His hand grasped your jaw, forcing you to meet his eye. "If you think I didn't notice the skimpy outfits, always needing to bend over..tch, then you're crazy."

His hands slid your dress over your head, tossing it back over to the passenger seat. "I'll be sure to make it all up to you," Nanami assures as he slowly pulls his tie from his neck. In one hand, he holds your wrists and the tie in the other.

Leaving some slack in between, Nanami binds your wrists individually. You pull your plump bottom lip through your teeth, the arousal pooling within your legs. "What do you possibly have planned for me?" You ask lowly. Nanami simply pulls you in by the nape of your neck, smashing a messy kiss onto you.

"Everything. I have everything planned for you, Y/N."

With that, you found yourself in the spacious backseat, arms hanging around the headrest of the center seat. Nanami climbs over the middle console, his back pressed against the hard surface. He had only unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his broad chiseled chest to you.

His hands clasp onto your thighs, prying them apart. He pulls the black thong from you, only to join the discarded dress from before. Whimpers pour from your lips while waiting for the slightest touch from the man before you.

"Just look at you, already unraveling and I haven't laid a finger on you. You're gonna have a rough night honey," Nanami sighed, his thumb gently bearing down on your clit. He drew slow tight circles around the bundle of nerves, his eyes pinned on you.

"Nanami, baby please!" you plead, "Stop teasing me!" But he only smiled as he peppers a trail of kisses along your inner thigh. He hoisted your trembling legs over his shoulders, pushing his lips closer to your heat.

Finally, he laid a single drag of his tongue into your folds. A satisfied sigh left from your lips as Nanami's lips clung onto your clit, his tongue delicately flicking the bud. Your hips buck viciously, the sensation filling the pit in your stomach quickly.

"Mmm fuck, you seem ready to cum," Nanami mumbled softly, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. Just as you reached the tipping point, Nanami's entire warmth disappeared.

"No no nooooo! Why'd you do that?" You cry, tears burning at your lash line. Nanami licked his lips, savoring the flavor he loved oh so much. With low, hazy eyes, he gave you such a reply that it made your cunt throb with such passion.

"Because I can."

Nanami leans over you, pulling the tie from underneath the headrest. "Turn that pretty ass of yours around," he demands. You turned around as instructed, your chest compressed into the backing of the seat and an arched back.

A hand crashed against the bare skin of your ass, triggering a gasp to fill your lungs. From the corner of your eyes, Nanami's hands traced along your arms, yanking your bounded wrists over the headrest once again.

"Are you gonna be a good girl and take it? If you do, I'll let you cum this time," Nanami wagered with his lips to your ear. His bare chest fits within the curve of your back, the tip of his dick rubbing between your folds.

"I will, just don't stop," you breathe restlessly. Nanami lifted himself from you, his focus shifting. The tip of his dick nudges your swollen entrance, anticipation leaving every nerve in your body on edge.

"Oh fuck," he whispers, watching as you swallow his length deliciously. Nanami pushes himself inside you until your ass is met by his toned pelvis. Your walls adapt to him easily, even after not being filled with him for two weeks.

He lugged his hips back, the urge to be stuffed fleeting quickly. Nanami swiftly thrusted back into you, a yelp escaping your lips. "So tight. You're always so damn tight baby," he groaned softly into your ear. Nanami returned to his place behind you, relentlessly carving your walls to his size.

Nanami abruptly became much more vocal, his moans flooding the car. You harshly yank the slack of the tie, you weren't used to not being able to touch Nanami during sex. You wanted to sink your nails into his skin, mark him as your own with scratches.

You tilt your head back in hopes to catch a glimpse of Nanami in the purest high of ecstasy. His head was tossed back, one hand bracing your hips and the other balled into the fist, shoved into the roof of the car.

"Shit, he's so fine," you thought to yourself, mesmerizing the scene behind you. A hand laced around your neck, delicately constricting your airways. "You miss me so much that you can't even stay away huh?" Nanami sneers as his pace slows down.

He slips out from inside you, his hand hard at work. He stroked the shaft with intent until a rush of pleasure washed over him. Spurts of cum dribbling into the crease of your parted ass.

Without delay, Nanami slid the tie from the headrest, only to have your hands now dangling from the back of the front passenger seat.

"You ready to ride me?" He chuckles as he props your legs on either side of him. Nanami sat you facing away from him on his lap, tip angled at your quivering hole.

"First you don't let me cum, then you-"

"Shhh, you shouldn't be talking, right?" Nanami interrupts, his hand taking hold of your jaw. His fingers dig into your cheek, forcing your plush lips to pucker. Nanami places a kiss onto you while adjusting your hips to take him back inside.

His hands lock around your waist, waiting for you to start and for him to take over. Your lips still entwined with his, you lift yourself ever so slowly. When you drop your hips down, the grip Nanami has you under tightens.

You know just how much Nanami tends to lose himself whenever you're on top. What you didn't expect was seeing him last as long as he is. Your pace quickens around his girthy length, even clenching him in place.

All the tactics you had in mind failed until Nanami's lips loosened along yours. You sank your teeth into his swollen bottom lip just before pulling away completely. Your eyes were in line with his, the sight of him striking a chord within you.

Beads of sweat dotted his hairline, even his hair was slick from the hard labor he's put in all night. The shade of pink painted his face beautifully, making you smile discreetly. The stoic exterior that he puts on daily was now replaced by the look of a man consumed in a euphoric state.

"Are you gonna let me cum now?" You murmur, your hips easing their stride. Your body was a trembling mess, all from the repeated denial from your boyfriend. The pad of Nanami's thumb running along your sensitive lips, the answer to your question hanging on a thread.

"One more time, alright?"

You nod your head, the pit in your stomach growing heavy. You were happy that it would only take one more round before meeting relief. Nanami pulls himself out of you before placing you back into the first position of the night.

He lifts your wrists up and down to encircle the nape of his neck. He has your legs spread apart and him filling the space behind. His pulsating tip rubs over your clit, giving it a subtle kiss. Nanami lays one hand above your head, closing the space between you both.

"You've been such a good girl for me, Y/N," he begins, his length sliding into you for the last time tonight. "I love you so much and—holy shit, we've been fucking all night and you're still so tight," Nanami curses, his pelvis now shoved against you.

After a night of constant edging, it wouldn't take you long to reach an orgasm. Nanami maintains easy strokes, enough to get you going but enough for his lips to never leave yours.

The sounds of muffled moans, lips clinging to each other, and lewd squelching waft a peaceful environment for the two of you.

Your quaking legs suddenly tightens, your vision filled with starry patches. A stream of tears decorate your cheeks as your nails sink into the muscular back of Nanami. "Cum for me, please fucking cum for me, honey!" He coos, his thrust becoming sloppy.

A rush of nerves stiffens your body at once, your gummy walls clenching with all their strength. A pool of moans pour from your chest and out to the world as you finally cum. Nanami himself met the same relief, his twitching tip completely rutting into you, filling you with his seed.

Your heart skips a beat from the guttural groan escaping his mouth. You place a peck onto his lips before being pulled into his sternum, Nanami dropping into the seat beside you.

He didn't bother to pull out just yet, his arms holding you so close. Your chests heave, desperately trying to hold air in your lungs.

In the midst of the heaving, He brings his lips to your ear, a question that you answered all too quickly.

"So...date night again tomorrow?"

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tetsurobunni · 3 years

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some 80s sugis for my beloved

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tetsurobunni · 3 years

Text

“what are you doing?” suga asks, looking over to you.

out of the two of you, you’re the one that should be asking that. he’s sitting on the floor messing with a mess of objects that looks something like an art project.

on the other hand, you’re sitting on the couch, although sitting the wrong direction. your feet rest on the top of it; your back is where you should be sitting and your head is hanging off where your feet should be.

“i’m watching you,” you smile.

“kind of creepy if you ask me.” despite his words, there’s a playful tone in his voice. there’s a warmth in his smile whenever he looks at you, the happiness he feels obvious in his eyes.

“fine, then i’m waiting.” you move to sit upright. “what are you doing, anyway.”

“extra credit project.” he answers simply.

his eyebrows furrow and his tongue presses against the back of his teeth — he always did that when he’s concentrated. neither of you are sure where he picked up the habit, but you’d noticed it after a few months of knowing him and you used it as fuel for teasing him. this time, though, you let him be.

“don’t you have good grades though?”

he shrugged. “brownie points then. maybe the teachers will give me a good grade on my exams.”

“i think that’s illegal.”

you giggled as his concentration broke, the scissors he was using cutting a little more then he’d intended. with a huff, he abandoned it and made his way to the couch.

“do i get extra kisses if i give you cuddles though?”

“absolutely.”

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tetsurobunni · 3 years

Text

#kindasmell #likeabaka #erenyeagar #yeagarsloppytoppy #bottombehavior

heaven (it’s calling my name)

✒ word count : 7.1k

✒ characters : eren yeager x reader

✒ explicit warnings : smut, like graphic shit i’ve never written, u give eren brain (a blowjob), yes ppl call giving head giving brain, eren repays the favor, i think he choke u a little at one point, consensual sex bc we fuck heavy with that, eren wraps it b4 he taps it, he’s respectful and hot

✒ warnings : modern!au bc canonverse eren makes me sad, eren is the definition of “cold boyfriend who’s only soft around you”, except he’s kinda not ur boyfriend, oh god, he calls you teach a lot, and sweet thing and pretty thing he just thinks ur an object, im joking, he’s really bad at history, eren is a little shit, he majors in criminal justice bc one day levi mentioned he’d be good at it, and eren looks up to levi cry cry cry, oh yeah it’s a college!au too bc eren would…be in col….my heart hurts, im down bad for a yt man

✒ summary : Eren’s an annoying type of pretty. The type of pretty that hurts to ignore.

✒ notes : fuck u mechelle, even tho u wont see this

Keep reading

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tetsurobunni · 3 years

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in volleyball... the past is gone. there ain’t no such thing as memories. all you need is right here.

[ on twt ]

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tetsurobunni · 3 years

Text

you wake up to loud consecutive pounding, sunlight aggressive against your eyes, and a suspiciously spacious bed without miya atsumu.

normally the bed isn't this spacious, normally it's a bit cramped, with the comforters constantly being pulled away, and a huge arm always annoyingly draped over you, but today, during this weird, loud, morning, the bed is all yours.

the pounding doesn't stop.

you groan, reaching for the alarm clock near you, and your eyes peek open to see the stark red that reads; 6:27 AM.

then there's that annoying pounding again.

you toss and you turn in your spacious bed, groaning everytime you do, and somehow, you feel that the pounding is only getting louder.

who is making all that noise at 6 am?

you have a feeling who, you just don’t want to admit it, because then, it’ll be your responsibility to do something about it.

the pounding is louder.

“i’m going to kill him.” you say to yourself, groaning and whining as you force yourself to get out of your comfortable bed.

a stark scowl on your lips as you try and find where that sound is coming from — and a vein feeling like it’s going to pop when you see that it’s from the balcony.

atsumu crouched on the floor as he hammers a nail over and over again on the balcony door, sweat visible on his forehead.

he looks good like this, you think for a second, then he pounds a nail in again, i’m still going to kill him.

you walk over to him — begrudgingly.

“hi.” you smile, your eyes crinkling as you see him.

atsumu looks up from where he’s crouching, and he smiles back at you, “hey, you.”

“good morning, how are you?” you walk closer to him, and you watch him pick up the hammer again.

he smiles, nodding, “good.”

and you smile back at him, “good? good.”

atsumu’s back to focusing on the door panel, the banging coming up again but this time way louder, and you try your hardest to keep your smile on.

“so, uh,” you laugh, “what’re you doing?”

he looks up at you, sweat on his forehead, and a goofy grin on his face, “oh, i’m fixing our balcony door.”

“huh, that’s right!” your shoulders rise as you laugh lightly, “you are!”

“you’re fixing our door,” you bite back a yawn, and your smile drops, “at six-thirty in the morning!”

he nods, “it was the only time i could do it.”

"okay, so why?" you shake your head, eyes still crinkled in drowsiness, "why?!”

"well, it was broken and it keeps opening in the middle of the night because of the draft," he stands up from his spot on the floor, and he tells you, calmly, "we couldn’t sleep through it."

"i was sleeping through it!" you yell, eyebrows tightly knit, "until my insane husband, atsumu-bob the builder-miya woke me up!"

he gives you a cheeky smile, “if you keep yelling like that, you’re going to wake the neighbors.”

and you bite, “don’t you speak to me about waking people up inappropriately.”

you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest, and the glaring sun comes back at you as atsumu picks up the hammer again.

you shake your head, “no! stop it!”

he looks at you, “i can’t just stop now.”

“yes, you can!” you nod frantically, “go cold turkey! join a support group!”

and he laughs, but you’re not sure if he’s teasing or if he’s just straight up laughing at you right now.

he gives you a gentle smile, “i can’t just leave the door like this.”

“tsumu, love of my life,” you start, and he smiles wider.

you let out a deep breath, “you can do anything you want, — as long as it doesn’t wake me.”

and he tells you, “but i didn’t wake you.”

“no,” you shake your head, “but your stupid hammering did!”

atsumu looks at you with whatever expression you can’t decipher, but you swear that the hammer in his hand looks like it’s still openly mocking you.

“tsumu,” you sigh, calling to him.

and he smiles, “love of your life.”

( you ignore his remark, glaring slightly. )

“i sleep around this time, okay, like every other normal person in the world,” you rub your eyes harshly, “it gives me energy, –”

you put your hands on his shoulders, “and it keeps me from killing my crazy husband!”

with the sunlight in your eyes and your annoyance towards … well, everything about this morning, you only now notice the space - or lack there of - between you and him.

of course, he still has that annoying smug smile on his face.

and right as you’re about to say something new, his smile gets wider, his free hand making its way to the side of your head, and he pulls you in to gently.

he kisses you quickly, deeply, pulling away after a firm second, and he smiles, “good morning.”

you grumble, “don’t sweet talk me.”

he smiles again, shoulders rising as he laughs, and he pulls you back into another kiss.

this time he keeps his lips on yours for a second longer, smiling widely against your mouth as his eyes fall close.

he pulls away again.

you narrow your eyes, “i hate you.”

and atsumu pulls you into a final kiss, less serious and more smiley on his part, and his hand on your head keeps you from pulling back.

you push him away, “okay, okay, you’re sorry.”

“right — i’m so sorry for being responsible and fixing our broken balcony door.” he laughs lightly.

and you nod, “yeah, you better think about what you did.”

atsumu kisses your forehead, cooing, “why don’t you go back to sleep? i’ll finish up here.”

so you smile, “hm, can i see that hammer please?”

and he immediately hands it to you, a small proud glint in his eye as he watches you take it.

“it’s pretty.” you point out, nodding with him as he does too.

then you put the hammer under your shirt, spinning on your heels as you turn away and walk.

“you’ll get this back later.” you scrunch your nose as he tries to interject, and you shake your head firmly, “like four pm!”

atsumu frowns, “but the balcony!”

and you take his hand with you as you trail him back inside, “it’s not going anywhere, tsumu.”

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tetsurobunni · 3 years

Text

#sighifuckingloveatsumumiya

atsumu ignores your insistent looks.

you sit by his side on the sofa, your feet propped up on an ottoman as two pillows prop up the small of your back.

there’s another pillow by your arm, and atsumu’s insisted that you keep warm at all times so you figure that explains the two blankets he carried over here from your room.

“tsumu.” you call out to him.

he looks at you, briefly, “i’m not leaving.” and his attention is back to the tv as he flips through the channels.

you sit up, or at least, you try to, and atsumu’s head snaps to you the second you move.

“what is it?” he asks, the tv remote dropping to his side as he focuses on you.

“please, i told you i’m fine.” you tell him, your words pressing, and your hand touching his arm, “you have a game tomorrow, i don’t want you —”

he shakes his head, “don’t think about that right now.”

your eyebrows furrow, and you’d say something after that but he gives you a look that you probably shouldn’t.

atsumu presses, “you’re injured.”

and you roll your eyes, “i’m not!”

earlier this day, as you and atsumu decided to go about and clean around the house (the first mistake, your husband tells you), you might have taken one step too far on the step ladder.

of course, you didn’t really anticipate falling from such a height, but you were at least lucky to not have been high enough to actually cause some serious injuries.

atsumu’s been by your side the entire day, and with every move or noise or groan you make, he’s always there nonstop asking if you’re okay.

“i have a back spasm,” you scoff gently, “it’s normal.”

atsumu crosses his arms, “the mere fact that it’s a spasm does not make it normal.”

you love atsumu with all your heart, you wouldn’t have married him whilst still in college if you didn’t, but right now, knowing that he has to go and rest for his big game tomorrow, all you want is for him to go.

“i’m fine, i promise you.” you smile, watching him pick up the empty plate dish from the table and bring it over to the kitchen.

you sit up as much as you can, “tsumu! i’m fine!” you yell from your spot.

a second later atsumu comes back from the other room, arms crossed over his chest, and he leans on the archway that separates the kitchen from the living room.

“okay.” he looks at you, “stand up.”

your shoulders rise, “what?”

and atsumu tells you again, “stand up.”

your shoulders rise again, chest heaving upwards as you scoff a laugh, and you nod persistently, “i can stand up.”

he looks at you, prodding you on to do so. you roll your eyes.

the standing up process is definitely easier said than done in your situation. you tilt to the side as your arms prop you up, and aside from awkward position (and the grunting), you’re just glad that you actually did manage to stand up straight.

“see.” you put your hand on your hip, looking at atsumu with a broken smile, “totally fine.”

atsumu looks unconvinced. his eyebrows raising as if he’s asking ‘are you serious?’.

he looks at you, “move.”

and you scoff, “you’re insane!”

atsumu shakes his head, “if you’re fine, like how you’ve been telling me for the past hour, you can move.”

“fine,” you bite, frowning, “i’ll move.”

your husband keeps his eye on you, still leaning promptly against the archway, arms crossed and waiting.

“any second now the moving will begin.” you pursue your lips, the hand on your hip slightly shaking.

he tilts his head.

your shoulders fall, “tsumu, please don’t make me move.”

you fall back down on the couch, groaning a little bit as you do, and the stinging ache in your back makes it pretty clear to you that maybe the annoying blond man looking at you right now might be right.

atsumu walks over to you, a small smile on his face, he kisses your forehead, and he tells you, grinning, “i’ll make you some coffee.”

(you frown, eyes narrowing, ‘oh, fuck you,’ and he smiles, kissing your forehead again, ‘maybe when you feel better.’)

he walks back to the kitchen, leaving you alone again with your mountains of pillows and unnecessary blankets.

your eyes fall on the tv, remembering how atsumu was so focused on it before, and it’s only now you realize that he put on your favorite movie.

maybe it’s the way he remembers what it was or that he’s gone through the effort to put it on for you, but right now, as you stare at the movie playing in front of you, you are feeling pretty cared for.

atsumu comes back a few minutes later, two cups of hot coffee in his hand, and he takes his familiar seat back as you move further to the side gently.

he hands you the cup, and because you’ve been feeling so cared for, you can’t help but feel just as smitten as the first time you’ve met him.

there are butterflies in your belly.

you take a sip of the coffee.

your eyebrows furrow, “oh god.”

“what is it? are you in pain?” atsumu sits up, turning to you after he places his own cup down on the table.

“only my mouth.” you gag, “this is the worst coffee i’ve had in my life!”

the butterflies are gone. it’s now replaced with the tangy aftertaste of horrible caffeine.

atsumu scoffs, his worry dying down as his shoulders fall, and he drops back to his spot on the couch.

“it’s like bitter and way too sweet at the same time,” you frown, your nose scrunching, “how does that even happen?”

atsumu smiles, shoving your shoulder lightly, and he shakes his head, “you’re horrible.”

you smile, laughing, “never make coffee again.”

he keeps his toothy grin, inching closer to you, and he smiles widely when there’s little to no space left in between.

he kisses you gently, pulling away as quick as he kissed you.

he nods, “i promise never to make coffee again.”

“okay good, cause i know we said in our vows to share whatever we have with each other but please never share this coffee with anyone again.” you nod your head as you speak, laughing here and there as atsumu keeps rolling his eyes at you.

he scoffs playfully, “now you’re just having fun insulting me.”

“and your coffee making skills.” you point out, smiling, “i am also insulting that.”

he shakes his head disapprovingly, and you laugh, your hands making its way to both sides of his face, and with a big grin, you pull his lips onto yours.

he smiles widely against your lips, but still kissing you back anyways.

grinning and giggling and laughing as the two of you stay there on the couch kissing, and you would pull away for a second only to have atsumu pull you in again.

it’s almost like it’s just another snowy night on the couch, eating pizza and putting on movies only to ignore it by making out like teenagers in the back of a movie theater.

you pull away, sitting back on your spot, and the night continues on with the two of you.

“you nervous for your game tomorrow?” you ask him, giving him a glance or two before he finally looks back at you.

he doesn’t hesitate, “yes.”

and you tell him, “you’ll be amazing.”

and he grins, “oh, i know that.”

(you hit his shoulder lightly.)

“i just ….” atsumu looks at you, shrugging, unsure of what to say.

“i need you in there with me, even if you’re just in the crowds.” his hand falls on your shoulder, squeezing it lightly, “that’s why i need you to be okay.”

now, you feel kinda stupid for pushing him away all day.

“i’m fine.” you remind him, smiling, “this’ll pass in the morning.”

you take another sip from the mug in your hands.

you look over to atsumu and he gives you a small grin, his attention from the tv coming back to you the second your glance falls on him.

“it just keeps getting worse with each sip.” you scrunch your nose.

and he rolls his eyes, laughing slightly, “okay, i’m taking the bad coffee away from you now.”

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tetsurobunni · 3 years

Text

me every time i think of a new idea

UGHHHHHHH why is writing the worst part of writing

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tetsurobunni · 3 years

Text

when sakusa called you out of the blue, telling you insistently how you needed to come to atsumu’s apartment as quick as you can, you honestly didn’t know what to think.

he sounded worried, and sakusa? worried? that was something that you never thought would happen.

he sounded upset too, and he really sounded like something bad had happened to atsumu.

you get to his apartment as soon as you can, the bit of hesitance in your veins way overpowered by the worry you carry in your chest.

“shoyo?” you call to him the moment you enter the door, watching him let out a huge breath of relief the second he sees you.

he looks like he's been pacing, "oh thank god, you're here."

you take a quick look around the flat, empty as usual with the stark exception of bokuto and sakusa sitting together in a corner.

you look back to hinata, nodding, “where is he? is he okay?”

when sakusa called you, he didn’t really give any details on what happened, only the fact that you needed to be here, and you needed to do it quickly.

“he’s fine… i think.” hinata tells you, the edges of his lips threatening to curl down. “i’m sorry, we didn’t know who else to call.”

“it’s alright.” you try your best to give him a smile, “what happened?”

and this time he really looks like he doesn’t know how to answer you.

“a lot.” sakusa walks your way, blunt, but still he looks at you, “i know things aren’t well between the two of you right now but–”

“no,” you shake your head, giving him a reassuring smile, “i'm glad you called.”

this whole week has been icy between you and atsumu, it started with a fight that never really got any resolve, and it ended with you insisting to sleep at your friend’s house.

it was a bad fight, and as much as that anger has already blown over, neither of you has taken the step forward to apologize or make amends at all.

a fight is a fight, but today, you can let go of it.

"he doesn't want anyone in." hinata tells you, pointing to atsumu’s room in your right.

and bokuto frowns, "osamu came a little earlier, but it was no dice.”

you give the three of them an understanding nod, they all look so worried - even sakusa - and you don’t know if that makes you nervous for atsumu even more.

“i got it from here,” you put your bag down on the table, smiling lightly at each of them as they give you back a nod, “thanks guys.”

hinata and sakusa leave first, telling you goodbye and goodluck, and asking you to text them for updates if you end up having any.

bokuto kisses your cheek, his eyebrows furrowed together tightly, and you hug him as he tells you goodbye before he goes.

you take in a huge breath after they’re gone, taking off your scarf and placing it on the sofa as you make your way to atsumu’s room.

the apartment was small, cozy enough for the two of you — he’d insisted once or twice that you finally move in with him but you always put the idea off for later.

his door is closed, “tsumu?” you call, voice hesitant.

you knock — no answer. you knock again — same result.

you twist the doorknob, and surprisingly, it isn’t locked.

“tsumu?” you call out again, and when you don’t get a response, you make the decision to go inside.

his room isn’t as bright as it usually is, his curtains covering his windows, and more clothes are on the floor than normal.

"you left your door open like that?" you ask, seeing him lay on his side in the bed.

"i could be anyone." you try to smile, "i could be a burglar coming to burgle you."

you take a seat on the space of the bed next to him, "i could be a kidnapper coming to kidnap you."

he doesn’t really say anything, instead he just turns to look at you, eyes widening a tad bit seeing as how you actually were … there.

he thinks about sitting up, but he doesn’t.

“what’re you doing here?” his voice is hoarse, and you see the remnants of tears clouding his eyes.

“nevermind that,” you shake your head, “what’re you doing here?”

atsumu doesn’t answer, frowning instead as he turns back to his side away from you.

hinata told you the gist of it before he left —something about an important match gone wrong, something about him being benched for lashing out on court, and something about him losing a point that could’ve turned the game around.

you’ve seen atsumu cry before, you’ve seen him blame himself countless of times before too, but never have you seen him like this.

“you don’t have to do this,” he mutters, looking at you, “i know you hate me right now.”

you push his hair back away from his forehead, and your eyebrows come together, “i don’t hate you.”

atsumu shakes his head.

you smile lightly, “i could never hate you.”

you move closer to him, your left hand falling to his back, and your right helping him wipe away the stray tears on his face.

"c'mon, this isn’t good, try to sit up." you bite back the urge to whisper.

“how are you even here?” he wipes away the last of his tears, “won’t your school get mad at you?”

and you shake your head, “they can be mad at me.”

atsumu finally sits up per your request, his back pressed up against his headboard, and you comb back his hair away from his face once or twice.

he refuses to look at you, he honestly doesn’t think he can.

he feels pathetic - this is pathetic. he gets in a fight with you and now you’re the one who has to wipe his tears away?

his eyebrows furrow, “i’m really sorry about all this.”

“hey - we’ll be fine.” you reassure him, trying your best to offer him a short smile.

and he shakes his head, “i really screwed up.”

and you tell him, “we’ll be fine anyways.”

he hopes you mean it, and he also knows that you do.

atsumu feels silly now for doing all this; isolating himself away in a room, telling all his friends and teammates to leave him alone, making everyone worry so much that they actually had to call you to ask for help.

the thick quiet in the air dies down as the two of you share the bed.

your hands still combing through his hair, and everytime atsumu looks at you, all he wants to do is have you with him for as long as you’d let him.

he attempts a smile, “so… who called you?”

you look over at him, “sakusa.” you grin.

and his hesitant smile grows wider, “no.”

so you nod, “he did!”

and atsumu shakes his head, strained laughter bubbling in the back of his throat, “i don’t believe you.”

“i can show you on my phone," you laugh lightly, "he called me three times, i thought someone was dying, or you know, he finally figured out we were the ones who put all those empty sanitizer bottles in his locker.”

atsumu laughs, his voice still hoarse, “he was really annoyed at that.”

and you nod, smiling, “it’s why we do it.”

a second is stuck in the air, and you can tell by the way he keeps looking at you over and over again that he wants to say something.

and atsumu tells you, hesitating, “i’m sorry you had to come here.”

you shake your head, “i’m not.”

and he brings his hand back up to his face to wipe away the threatening watering of his eyes.

atsumu clears his throat, “don’t you have to go back to school soon?”

“i can’t leave you yet,” you reason, shaking your head, “what if you go rollerblading or ice skating when i’m gone?”

and he scoffs, jokingly, “how did you easily figure out my master plan?”

he looks better than how you found him today, there’s a crinkle in his eyes when he smiles again, but you know it’s not nearly as bright as the ones he usually gives you.

you turn lightly to get comfortable in bed, your hand on his face as you kiss his forehead, then you pull away, but atsumu kisses you fully before you get the chance to.

he hasn’t kissed you in a week, and now that he has again finally, he regrets ever being away from you for so long.

he pulls away, though he doesn’t want to.

( he never ever wants to. )

you smile, “you’re getting predictable, miya.”

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