Volleyball isn’t exactly the most popular sport but handsome, charming Miya Atsumu, starting setting of the MSBY Black Jackals has his share of fangirls nonetheless. He has never given you any cause to worry, always keeping a respectful distance from them, bowing and thanking them for their support before trying his best to disappear after matches and teleport himself back home to you.
You know he doesn’t care for fame or the fans.
He only cares about playing volleyball. He only cares about you.
Still, it’s hard not to doubt yourself sometimes when you’re feeling blue. It just happens to be one of those days. You wake up to pouring rain, miss your train, get shouted at by your boss for making two typos in a presentation you only had an hour to prepare for. It all comes to a head when you rush to watch his match and watch as your boyfriend gets swarmed by his fangirls yet again.
He takes a while to notice that you’re being uncharacteristically quiet when you reach home. In his defence, he did just win a match overr EJP Raijin, so he’s busy sending triumphant selfies and taunts to Suna just to rub it in. He doesn’t have Kita keeping him in line anymore (no, the Inarizaki group chat does not count).
But he catches on soon enough when you sniffle into your pillow, pull your blanket over your head.
“Rough day?” he asks, rubbing soothing circles into your back.
He thinks he hears another sniff, the sound muffled by layers of cloth and fluff hiding you from him. Perhaps he should give you your space, let you mope and get whatever it is out of your system, but he hates even the thought of you being sad.
So he slips nimble fingers beneath the sheets, attacking your weak spot with tickles until you squeal with laughter and capitulate, throwing the blankets down while wheezing.
“Wanna tell me what’s wrong, doll?”
He listens as you whine about your day, nods at the right places, curses your boss. But he frowns when you meekly admit that you’re just a little insecure that you’re not good enough for him - not when he has fans throwing themselves at him left right and center - an exaggeration, he disagrees as you huff.
“You’re not allowed to laugh at me”, you poke his belly as he rolls over his side, raises his hands in mock defeat.
“Never”, he avers. “But seriously, ya got nothin’ to worry about.”
summary: miya atsumu loves you for years, but you weren’t ready yet.
now playing: lifetime by ben&ben
note: hi, anon! enjoy!!! lmk what you think!!! hihi.
Everyone from Inarizaki’s side rose from their seats and cheered as soon as the ball landed on the orange court. You watched Atsumu and Osamu staring at each other in disbelief. After months of hardwork, they’ve finally achieved one of their goals for that year—to defeat the crows before they graduate.
Miya Atsumu x reader (platonic, maybe) warnings: alcohol mentions, drunk idiots, breaking and entering content: gender neutral reader, dumb drunk antics, fluff, atsumu thinks he can make onigiris, they break into osamus shop, “if i die, im going to haunt you” prompt, short drabble more likely wordcount: 717
notes: i havent actually read the hq manga for a while, so this timeskip knowledge is loosely based off of what i know from tumblr, may not be accurate! i used a prompt from this list! this is pretty platonic but ig u can read more into it if you’d like. first time i tried using a prompt! only my second reader fanfic EVER, i hope u enjoy !!! :^) <3333
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Honestly, you’re not sure how you even ended up in front of Onigiri Miya at 2AM with Atsumu. You were visiting your childhood friend and he decided to treat you to a night in town, where you, after eating extreme amounts of delicious foods in a fancy restaurant you would never be able to afford on your own, also had just a tiny bit too much to drink.
You were walking in the park, your arms behind your back, Atsumu proudly telling you about Onigiri Miya – as if you hadn’t already visited the place a couple days prior when you arrived - and how Osamu would have tuna and spring onion rice balls ready for him whenever he needed it.
“But yaknow, that asshat isn’t afraid to charge me at all,” he complained, stumbling a bit while walking. “But I betchu, I Bet! That I can made just as delicious rice balls, dontcha think so?”
He looks at you with his signature smirk and the confidence he usually exudes on the court. All you did was raise an eyebrow at him while a contemplative and distrusting “hmm,” left your mouth.
Atsumu’s hand rose to his chest in what looked like genuine surprise, almost whispering your name, “How could you say that!”
“’Tsumu, I didn’t say anything?” “That’s what hurts the most!” You laughed, breathing in the comfortable summer air while looking up at the night sky. You honestly thought the conversation was over and he’d move onto something else.
pairing: atsumu x f!reader word count, genre: 1.7k words, angst. warnings: none summary: who holds on to a silly, childhood promise? apparently, atsumu does but he realizes there’s more than one way to keep his end of the promise.
“You’re the only one I want to get married to!”
The little boy laughs, his hands ruffling the already messy hair of the little girl. “Is that right?”
She eagerly nods, her smile shining as bright as the sun. “Mommy always says when I grow up I should be with the one who makes me the happiest in the world.”
“I feel the happiest with you. So,” She pulls his right hand and hooks her small pinkie with his. “I want to be with you forever. It’s a promise.”
He looks at her with softness in his eyes, and though he knows that no one could tell what the future holds, he keeps his finger linked with hers.
a/n: i hope you enjoy the second part of the remixed storm chaser. part i can be found here.
Miya Atsumu has a reputation of being relentless in hunting down what he wants.
So even though Kita frowns and Osamu blows up his phone with angry texts, he makes the hour-long drive through sleepy villages and rice paddies and bamboo groves back to her family’s home.
He does not linger overlong at her front door, does not even muster up the courage to try the window to her room - he knows it’s been latched shut and will not open, no matter how much he grovels. He simply kneels by the door, leaving bunches of wildflowers, paper wrapped packages of mochi and letters written in the light of insomnia and bitter desperation.
I’m sorry, he writes, again and again, at the top of each and every letter. I’m sorry for running. I’m sorry I wasn’t fair to you, he scribbles, regretting the nights spent convincing himself that he’s too young, it’s too much to ask, even as he dreams of childlike laughter and playful banter.
I’m sorry I forgot how much I loved you.
He refuses to lose hope when his flowers wilt from being left out in the sun, when the packages of mochi returned with a polite note thanking Kita’s grandmother for her kindness, not even when his letters are shredded to ribbons. He stays until his agent calls with demands that he present himself back in Osaka before the season starts, and with a heavy heart, he packs his bags and bids Kita goodbye.
warnings/tags: childhood friends to lovers, reader has a male ex
word count: 0.8k
“the world’s full of good things,” atsumu tells you, eight years-old and grubby-cheeked, “like volleyball.”
you frown, and the action displaces some of the tears gathering in the corners of your eyes, “but i don’t like volleyball.”
“there’s onigiri,” osamu says, squatting and offering a hand, “and don’t ya like popsicles?” you eye his hand warily, grudgingly allowing him to pull you up.
“c’mon, let’s go already,” atsumu whines, “baa-chan said she’d cook dinner.” he barely spares your scraped knees a glance. “stop crying, brat.”
you scrunch your nose up in annoyance, and osamu’s hold on your arm tightens a fraction - like he knows you’re about to launch yourself at his brother. “you’re a brat,” you settle for saying childishly, sticking out your tongue for good measure.
atsumu rolls his eyes. “whatever,” he grumbles, kicking huffily at the ground.
