✫ft. akaashi , kita , atsumu , suna , sugawara x gn!reader
✫a/n: flirty kita warning !! >:) sorta kinda suggestive
✫AKAASHI comes home from work with an expression not often seen on his charming face — something a little lovestruck with a hint of giddiness. and as you pull him in for a hug, something you’ve gotten used to doing every evening when you hear his footsteps outside the apartment door, he wraps a single arm around you, hiding the other one behind his back. “what’re you hiding from me, keiji?” you ask, a smile showing through your words. he presents a bouquet of the prettiest roses you’ve ever seen. they’re a mix of pink and red ones all wrapped in a baby blue bow. he has an excited look on his face as he hands them to you, almost like a child showing you a drawing they made in class. and you can’t help but tease him just a little. “aw, couldn’t decide on a color?” you joke lightheartedly, pulling him into another hug and grinning when you feel both his arms wrap around your waist. “yeah right, i’m not as indecisive as you,“ he pauses, pressing a kiss to your hairline. ”red for my everlasting love for you, and pink for my gratitude towards you and the life we’ve made together.”
✫KITA surprises you with a romantic candlelit dinner. it’s nothing fancy, but it warms your heart to see him plate the meal he’s made for you two. his favorite song is playing in the background, and his face is glowing above the warm flames. he hears your footsteps behind him, and he turns around with a gentle smile. “what’s all this?” you ask him as you reach to kiss his lips. “wanted to do something nice for ya, love. you’re always cooking meals for me. thought i’d return the favor today.” he ushers you to your seat at the dining table (which isn’t really a dining table, it’s just a small, round table with two seats across from one other. kita hopes that one day you’ll have a bigger table, maybe more seats around it, too). and that’s when you see that he’s made his grandma’s signature meal — fried rice, but it’s shaped into a heart. “ya like it, sweetheart?” a little laugh leaves you at how utterly cute he is. “yeah, shin, i love it. thank you for this.” he leans down to kiss you again, getting a little carried away this time. and when you pull away breathlessly, he walks to his seat nonchalantly with his lips turned upward. “how about we eat before the food get’s cold, hm? we can continue that a little later.”
✫ATSUMU loves spoiling you. that’s nothing new to your relationship. he’s a little cheesy at times, but he always has the purest, sweetest, most kindhearted intentions. on valentine’s day morning, he showcases his efforts while you’re still trying to wake yourself up. your hair’s a mess, your eyes still unfocused from the hours of sleep, but there’s something charming about the way his eyes trail over your tired face — like he’s taking it all in, committing each stray hair to memory. with a toothy smile, he climbs back into bed with a teddy bear, a cheesy card that says “you’re my fineapple” (you want to tell him how much he looks like the pineapple on the front of the card, but… you shouldn’t ruin the moment), a large bouquet of roses, and a heart-shaped box of chocolates. but what he doesn’t tell you is that underneath one of those chocolates is a little ring. not an engagement ring (he wants to do something a little more grand for that moment, maybe be a little more awake), but a beautiful diamond ring with a small, dainty heart on it. seeing it on your finger reminds him of how you’ve taken his heart, holding it gently in your hands with so much care — something no one’s ever done before.
✫ft.dad!akaashi , atsumu , suna , kageyama x parent!reader
✫a/n: might do a part 2 so lemme know what characters you’d like to see! fair warning, this was written v quickly sorry in advance <3
✫AKAASHI — he enters the doorway after a long, tiring day at work and puts his things down to go straight to you to give you a kiss. it’s a part of his routine, something he’d never skip even if exhaustion overshadowed every thought in his mind. you’re sitting at the dining table as a song from a kids show plays in the background. you’ve just finished feeding your daughter, who’s happily babbling with baby food slipping down her chubby face. she squeals with joy as keiji wipes her face with a napkin and kisses her head, murmuring a “dad’s home” into her skin. taking her out of her high chair, he takes her into his arms and tickles her sides with his fingers. her laughter immediately washes away any tension that was picking away at him, his cheeks warming up at the sound he longs to hear every day. he loves moments like this, when she’s safe in his arms with her cute legs kicking back and forth, his large hand supporting her back as she babbles away. and even though keiji can’t understand a word she’s saying, he likes to think that she’s telling him about her day spent with you — how you played peek-a-boo with her, gave her a warm bath, and how you kissed her cheeks throughout the day, making sure she felt how much love you two have for her.
✫ATSUMU — coming back to the twins is the best part of his day. as much as he loves setting and seeing his team members every day, he loves playing around with his boys before they go to bed even more. there really is nothing better than their little smiles and identical dimples. every night, he leans over their cribs and pinches their cheeks before picking them both up into his arms. and even though it’s a bit past their bed time, he brings them over to your shared bedroom and places them on his stomach as he lies down on the bed next to you. his muscles finally relax and he feels at ease with his boys sitting on his torso, gently poking their tiny fingers at his face. they should be asleep, and they’ll probably be extra cranky in the morning, but atsumu revels in their sleepy giggles. without a doubt, your hand finds it’s way to his hair, scratching at his scalp to help him relax after a tiring day at practice. wanting your attention, too, your sons crawl off atsumu’s body to receive some of your love and affection (they can’t help it — they’re just like their dad). and now you have three pouting boys splayed across the bed waiting to receive their goodnight kisses.
✫SUNA — after a long day of practice, suna loves coming home to see his baby girl laying down on her belly on the carpeted floor. her little hands prod at the dog plushie she’s been obsessed with lately. she just looks so cute, and suna can’t help but lie down onto his stomach to place a soft kiss to her nose, showing her a rare, toothy smile. and while she peers up at her dad with wide and curious eyes, he takes ahold of her tiny body to lift her up in the air as he gets off the floor to find you. laughter leaves her lips as he gently tosses her into the air on the walk to her room. they find you in the nursery picking out her pajamas for the night — a purple onesie that suna was adamant on buying, knowing that it would look beautiful against your daughter’s green eyes. “aw, my baby’s gonna wear the clothes i got her?” he coos at her. “your dad has a good sense of style, doesn’t he?” he places three consecutive kisses to her cheeks before walking over to press his lips against yours. and as he changes her into her cozy pajamas, he places her in her crib and whispers a quiet “see you first thing in the morning, cutie,” before tracing her rosy cheeks with his finger to lull her to sleep.
✫KAGEYAMA — every night, on the very sofa you two had countless movie nights, kageyama gives his daughter her bottle for dinner. even when he’s drained from hours and hours of practice, he values this time the most. he looks forward to relaxing with her in his arms as she falls in and out of sleep from the warmth of the bottle and her dad’s body. his eyes stay glued to her little lips as they drink from the bottle, her cheeks puffing out cutely with each sip. it’s times like these when he’s in awe of his life — he has everything he’s ever wanted. you’re curled into his side watching little animals from some kids show dance around the tv screen. if he could freeze this moment in time and stay in it forever, he would. his heart feels like it’s going to burst out of his chest. and kageyama is not often overwhelmed, or so he says, but he feels his pulse quicken as his daughter falls fast asleep and nuzzles deeper into his arms. he places featherlight kisses on her face before leaning over and doing the same to you.
you knock on his door again, but silence faces you instead of your roommate.
perhaps he’s asleep, or doing god-knows-what in there. with a slight turn of the door handle, you take a peek to see what he’s up to. a sigh of relief leaves your lips when you see suna with his headphones on, typing rapidly on his phone.
“can i help you?” he asks you with an uninterested expression, as if you hadn’t just knocked on his door repeatedly.
“are you texting your crush right now? i know i saw a smile somewhere there,” you tease. he huffs, rolling his eyes at your comment. he’s looking at you with those beautiful pear-colored eyes. the ones that lock with yours when he asks you where you put the tv remote, the ones that widen when he catches a glimpse of how you look before going out, the ones that are drawn to you every so often (more than he’d like).
“i’m not,” he mumbles. “why are you here?”
it doesn’t come off as rude, though. his words never do. they’re always laced with a sliver of affection. and perhaps he know’s he’s fallen for you, your habit of blasting music when you’re in the shower, your detailed coffee order (which is committed to his memory), your soft laughter when he tells you about his friends from high school.
“i’m hungry,” you state. “and i need food or you’ll be dealing with the crankier version of me.”
“oh, was this not the crankier version?” his lips curve up into a smile.
“shut up. i’m hungry.”
“you already said that,” he sighs. and he won’t tell you now, but bickering with you is one of his favorite things to do with you. “there’s probably food in the fridge. go eat an orange or something.”
you cross your arms at his words knowing damn well suna didn’t get the groceries like he promised. that’s why you two had to eat cereal and clementines for dinner. of course, he got an earful from you. something about how you always get the groceries on time, how he should start being more responsible, how there’s only one packet of ramen left in the cabinet.
but suna wasn’t listening (completely, at least). the exasperation in your voice translated to passion, fervor, and radiance in his head. he needed to know what else could elicit such ardor from you.
“can we make ramen?” you lightly pull on his arm to get him out of bed.
and even though it’s approaching midnight, and he should be asleep soon, suna gets up with a groan. he tells himself that the only reason he’s doing this is to make up for your disappointing dinner.
“who’s we? you’re gonna be on your phone while i make it,” he looks at you as you push yourself onto the counter. you’re crossing your legs and resting your chin in your hands while he places the pot on the stove.
he’s right, and he knows that. he can feign nonchalance, but he can’t fake the breath that’s caught in his throat when he hears you laugh at his words.
suna hums as he boils the single packet of ramen that’s left in your apartment, watching the seasoning bubble in the water with tired eyes. you’ve learned that he hums when he’s sleepy, and it’s never a song that you know. you’ve also learned that he’s particular about laundry detergents — he doesn’t like lavender scented ones. he’s always extra cautious when you’re by the stove because he remembers how his sister burnt her hand when she was younger. come to think of it, you’ve gotten to know your roommate quite well over the past eight months.
“so, who were you texting? you seemed kinda focused. never seen that before.”
he takes a deep breath, thinking back to the texts he got from her.
“it was my sister. she was just helping me with something,” he tells you.
suna recalls her words: “just tell them you like them more than just a friend or roommate. it’s now or never, dumbass.”
and even though he’s worried it’ll ruin things, suna waits for the noodles to boil, he waits for you to happily take the bowl from his hands, he waits for you to offer him a bite or two like you usually do.
it’s not until then does he say the words that have been sitting on his tongue for the past eight months.
this wasn’t edited, it’s legit a dump. i wasn’t joking when i said i’m in my suna brainrot. im going to continuously add to this if I think of more HAHAH
crush!sunarin is the type to pin over you way before you even notice him. He’ll take short glances when you’re near, but unapologetically stare from a distance, with a slight blush to his cheeks, as he observes you smile, engage, laugh, frown, simply mesmerized by you and the beauty that you carry.
crush!sunarin that gets caught by the Miya twins about his crush early on, and has been blackmailed by a certain blonded twin ever since. Threatening to tell you and expose him of his feelings… sunarin had to delete a lot of pictures/videos of them two because of it…. but little do the twins know, he’s already had them saved.
crush!sunarin that wouldn’t have the guts to strike conversation with you, but simply stay within distance so that you could notice him.
crush!sunarin that secretly prayed that the gods would put you both as seating partners when it was confirmed you both had the same homeroom class as third years. And during the first day of class, it would be belittling to state that he almost passed out when he found that his prayers were indeed answered. Seeing you prettily seating at the seat next to his, simply waiting for him to join you… yea, the butterflies in his stomach went raging. he was on cloud nine.
he’s so pretty like this, you think as you watch him laugh. sakusa has a smile that could bring the sun to her knees, and he’s a pretty sight, and he’s yours. every moment with him, every word that’s spoken and every kiss he steals is like scripture you hold dearly.
“you have really cute dimples, you know,” you hum, poking the small indents of his cheeks. he gently swats your hand away, rolling his eyes. his cheeks are still flushed from the laughter from earlier, and you brush a few loose curls from his forehead.
“you don’t have to always bring that up,” he groans. and truth be told, sakusa loves when you point out little things about him, he loves the way your voice is always in awe, and he loves being the center of your attention.
“but they’re so cute, kiyo,” you pout, pinching his cheek delicately. “how was the party?”
“boring,” he mutters. “hate that they made me go.”
“well, your dad is really strict about these kinds of things,” you hum, threading your fingers through his hair as his head slumps onto your shoulder. it’s your last semester with sakusa, and then you’re both off into the real world, and you can’t help but hold onto these moments of peace a little bit longer.
“he was so annoying,” he grumbles, sinking further into your touch as you wrap an arm around him and pull him into your chest. and you should both go home soon—sakusa has practice and you have class, but you like the soft breeze kissing your skin as you lean against the trunk of a tree, and you like the weight of him in your arms as he settles into your embrace.
sakusa has never thought he’d be the type to like things like picnics in the middle of the night—but you make him live life a bit differently now, and he can’t say he minds it so much.
“tried to talk you out of volleyball again?” you murmur, and he nods, sighing. his family’s a little bit of a sore spot, but he trusts you enough to let you see those parts of him, even if they’re not his favorite.
“rambled on with my aunt about how i’m wasting my youth chasing something meaningless,” he rants, “and he said i was tainting the family name,” he spits bitterly. “you know she agreed with him? what a hag,” he spits, and you throw your head back and laugh.
“i think they’re just jealous they’ve never been on a news article,” you poke his nose, and he crinkles it lightly.
“can’t stand them,” sakusa mutters, but he relaxes a little when you press a soft kiss to his moles, making him hug you a little tighter.
“you shouldn’t listen to them, kiyo,” you say gently. “you love volleyball.”
“what if my dad’s right though?” he whispers, and there’s a small hint of doubt that’s always lingered in his mind, but you never let it surface for long.
“he’s not. you were the best player on the team as a freshman,” you remind him.
“wakatoshi played in the olympics,” he huffs. “and so did kageyama. i want to play in the olympics,” he pouts, and you run your thumb over his cheek as you cup it, smiling when he leans into your palm.
“you will,” you say, and sakusa feels his lips almost start to wobble at the confidence in your tone—no one’s ever been this confident in him. no one he’s needed it from, anyway.
“my dad’s trying to convince me to work with him in his office this summer,” he rolls his eyes. “says he thinks i’ve fooled around enough.”
“aw, kiyoomi my little business man,” you giggle, pinching his nose and making him scowl. “hope you wear a cute little tie that i can pull you into a kiss with.”
“i’m not doing it,” he scoffs.
“will you wear the suit for me then?”
“no,” he says flatly.
“at least a tie?”
“i’m having a crisis here,” he insists dramatically, and this time, it’s your turn to roll your eyes. sakusa’s always been one for theatrics, but you can’t say you don’t enjoy the show.
“oh, you poor thing,” you pout, and he huffs, shaking his head as you pepper kisses along his forehead in faux sympathy.
“you…you really think i can play pro?” he questions, and you snort, looking off to the distance as your hand rubs over his back slowly. sakusa has never been one to express himself, but if there’s one thing he does express, it’s way he loves volleyball—and lately, it’s the way he loves you.
you think you’re content with the late night rendezvous he lets you rope him into, and the evenings of waiting for him when he stays extra after practice, and the facetimes as you both study for midterms, and the way he sneaks out of family parties and you put off studying so you can have a picnic with him in the middle of the night.
“well duh,” you say as though it’s the most obvious thing on the planet, and his chest tightens. “if you don’t make it pro, then there’s no hope for japan to win the olympics.”
snorting, kiyoomi sprawls himself over your lap, grinning up at you and making his dimples surface once more. you poke them again, and he swats your hand away, and it’s routine by now.
“believe in me that much, huh?” he wriggles his brows, but there’s a soft hitch of his breath when you cup his cheeks gently and lean your forehead against his, pecking his lips delicately.
“even if no one else does, i will, kiyo,” you murmur, and this time, as sakusa really does fight off the wobble of his lips, he doesn’t think he wants to prove his father wrong anymore.
sakusa doesn’t know how he ends up in these situations, really.
he figures all odds are just always against him.
“that’s a nasty dent,” you say with raised brows. “now that i’m looking at it, it’s really bad.” he groans, rubbing a hand over his face, sighing deeply.
“yes,thank you, y/n. i’m glad i have you around to point out the obvious,” he says flatly. and he’s not sure how anything can beat this, the day can’t possibly seem to get worse, but then you chuckle.
he debates if it’s time for you both to go your separate ways as his lips purse.
“omi,” you snort, shaking your head. “you’ve really no clue what you’re doing, do you?”
“huh?” he looks at you incredulously, and he almost looks offended by your words. it’s not his fault he’s never had someone ram into his car before. and all things considered, he thinks that makes him an excellent driver, and the same can’t be said for you—at least, in his mind.
“you just stood there,” you shake your head. “i’m the one who got their insurance. what would you have done if i wasn’t here?”
“i don’t know…” he trails off. “probably call my dad.” his lips form into a cute pout, making your heart skip a beat at the sight. you pinch his cheek as he crosses his arms and turns away from you, blush rising across his face. one month into college and sakusa’s already had his car dented by some random student in the parking lot, and he thinks it’s only going to get worse from here on out.
he wonders if it’s too early to quit.
“kiyoomi,” you snort. “you never cease to shock me. how do you drive the most expensive vehicle on the premises and not know anything else other than how to drive it?” he scowls, glaring at you as he huffs indignantly.
“first of all, i didn’t even pick this car, okay? it’s just the one my dad got. and it’s not my fault i’ve never been hit before,” he glowers. “how was i supposed to know you have to ask for their insurance?”
“because, baby,” you shake your head in amusement, rubbing over his tensed shoulders. “it’s common knowledge.”
“well, i didn’t know that,” he mumbles, staring at the damage on his car glumly. his finger traces over the edge of the dent, shoulders slumping at the feel. you kiss his jaw as you rub his chest soothingly.
“it’s okay, my little spoiled brat. you have me,” you grin. and sometimes you’re amazed at just how dense sakusa kiyoomi can be, how dependent he really is, even if everything about him screams independent. you suppose it’s to be expected when he comes from such wealth, but it’s amusing no less.
he’s mildly offended at the notion of being called spoiled, but he can’t exactly refute it, he thinks. but spoiled doesn’t always equal happy, sakusa’s the first to attest to that—but he has you.
“what if they can’t fix it?”
“it’s a dent, okay? your door didn’t fold in half,” you huff through a chuckle. he grumbles incoherently. reaching for his hand, you lace your fingers, squeezing it in yours. “hey,” you gather his attention on you. “it’s okay, when we’re happily married with two dogs and a big house, i’ll take care of you,” you grin. “lord knows you need me, you have no real-life skills.”
sakusa wonders why his first accident had to be with youto bear witness—you’ll never let him live this down, and you probably think he’s an utter fool, but his lips still turn upwards into a small grin anyway.
“don’t be so sure,” he counters. “you’re pretty lazy, someone’s gotta do things around the house.”
and you suppose that’s why you and sakusa kiyoomi work so well. you’re not opposites—you simply fill in the gaps for each other. his hand squeezes yours back, and you shuffle in closer.
“guess we’re a pretty good match, huh?” you grin cheekily, and he cracks a tiny smile, turning to face you and pull you into his chest.
in the two years he’s dated you, he’s never really considered how far you both would go. but college really changes that. it makes him crave a life with you—domestic and homely and warm. sakusa remembers when you’d told him you’d be attending university with him—he denies it still, but he definitely did tear up, your eyes were not deceiving you like he claims.
he leans in and kisses you briefly, closing his eyes at the familiarity, inhaling sharply at the way it still never gets old.
“you witnessed me get into my first accident,” he murmurs against your lips. “you have to sign a contract binding you to me for life.” he places one, two, three small pecks to your lips.
“i think i can live with that, omi,” you whisper, kissing him again. the dent on his car is long forgotten as he deepens the kiss, pulling you closer. “sounds like a great contract.”
the water is running in the shower, and sakusa laughs melodically into the crown of your head, his arms wrapping tightly around you to keep you in place. his thumb rubs circles into your hipbone as you take a moment to steady yourself.
“you okay?” he grins, his dimples showing through. it’s foggy in the bathroom, the heat of the shower encompassing the both of you, and his hair is damp against his forehead, but you think he still looks beautiful, all things considered. reaching over, you poke his left dimple, watching how carefree he seems to be around you with a soft grin.
if only he was yours, you think.
“yeah,” you mumble.
“did i rock your world that hard?” he teases, chuckling when you roll your eyes and look away. “can’t seem to use your legs properly.” he can practically feel the heat radiating off your face.
“sakusa—”
“i think you can call me kiyoomi,” he interrupts. “we’ve gotten to know each other pretty well,” he winks. and you’re confused where this side of sakusa kiyoomi is even coming from, how after months and months of being a brooding and grumpy man, he could flip the switch and become so unfiltered.
but he’s magnetic like this, he draws you in and leaves you hungry for more. you want everything sakusa kiyoomi can give, want to decipher everything he means, want to learn everything he ever was, is, and will be.
and last night was a drunk mess, you’re not sure where it quite started or how it ended, but you know you woke up in a mess of bare limbs and tangled sheets, on a warm chest littered with moles you’d like to spend the rest of your life mapping. sakusa offers you a shower, and you take it as an invitation to see a glimpse of who he is underneath his mask—inside and out.
“geez, when did you get so confident,” you mumble, letting go of him to balance on your own. his hands keep their place on your hips nonetheless, thumb still rubbing circles into the bare skin.
“i’m not confident,” he shrugs, handing you body wash. you raise a brow at the brand, exotic and hard to pronounce, and no doubt incredibly expensive. “it’s just easy to be myself around you,” he murmurs. and you can make out the small bit of blush on his cheeks from the confession, taking in the sight of him flustered instead. but his eyes are hopeful, and your heart is in the air doing leaps.
“oh, is that so?” you hum. he nods, smiling when you lean a bit closer to him. it’s softer, and as you get closer, you realize sakusa kiyoomi’s eyes hold more depth to them than you’d initially realized. “i didn’t know you had dimples,” you mumble. “you should smile more.”
“well, you should make me,” he raises a brow.
“with your mask off,” you add. “otherwise it’s pointless.”
“ah,” he grins, spinning you so your back is against the cool tile. “that’s only for you.” he takes a deep breath before adding, “if you’ll have me, that is.” and it’s not exactly how he wanted to ask, but he’s been waiting months for this moment, and he deems this moment good enough. smiling brightly, you tilt you head closer, pecking his lips sweetly.
perhaps he’s been yours all along.
“i’ll have you,” you agree. “if you’ll have me.”
even though this post is sfw, i am still a nsfw blog so minors don’t not follow me.
it’s a wonder that atsumu shares identical genes with osamu, and it’s a wonder that he’s gotten as far as he has—alive.he shouldn’t have survived this long with his inability to do simple tasks.
“what have you done to my kitchen—”
“baby, don’t worry,” he quickly insists. “looks worse than it is,” he offers you a reassuring smile, but he cringes slightly when you glare at him.
“miya atsumu,” you say harshly, and he deflates, pouting as you cross your arms and tap your foot. he looks like a toddler being scolded, and maybe if you weren’t so annoyed, you’d giggle at the sight. all six foot three of his stature screams dejected, and all of yours is done with his nonsense.
“baby, don’t yell at me,” he mumbles. “hurts ma feelin’s.”
“oh, i’ll hurt your feelings,” you raise a brow, “i gave you one job. one job, atsumu! i said, ‘tsumu, i’m coming home late today. pick up dinner from samu, i don’t feel like cooking.’ and what did you do? you turned my kitchen into a war zone and—”
“technically it’s our kitchen,” he interrupts, pouting deeper. he shrivels back when you take a step towards him menacingly. “we share it,” he adds.
atsumu is incredibly brave to be testing your patience, especially now that you have to clean an utterly atrocious kitchen because of his failed cooking attempt. and you wonder how one brother could be so gifted at a basic life skill, while the other manages to light up everything he touches, but you suppose atsumu’s a special kind of his own. but you’re certainly not thrilled by it at the moment.
“we won’t be sharing very soon if you keep it up,” you scowl. “why can’t you ever do things how i tell you? you always have to go and do the opposite and make my life a thousand times harder and—”
“wanted ta surprise ya,” he says quietly, staring down at his feet. shattered glass is swept into a neat pile before him, and he grabs the dustpan to broom the shards onto it. “jus’ thought it’d be nice.”
and just as quickly as your anger comes, it fades, and your features soften as you stare at your boyfriend. he’s always been a little dim, and he drives you to the edge of sanity and back, but he’s got a heart of gold—and you don’t think you could ever stay mad at him. not when his lips curl into a sad pout like that.
sighing, you take the broom from his hands and dust the broken glass yourself, avoiding his eyes as he watches you.
“tsumu, you’re a horrible cook,” you roll your eyes.
“wanted ta try,” he mumbles.
“theworst cook i’ve met,” you continue.
“don’t need ta rub it in,” he grumbles.
“maybe start with microwaveable meals. just so we can make sure you actually know how to use one,” you raise a brow, and he scowls, huffing as he crosses his arms.
“i know how ta use a microwave like a professional. reheated samu’s meals all the time before i met ya.”
“good thing we have samu, then. or you’d be dead before we could’ve met,” you snort, and atsumu glares at you with jutted lips, and you reach over to pinch his cheek with a chuckle. maybe a small part of you is touched that he attempted to surprise you, but he doesn’t have to know that. not yet, anyway.
“then maybe ya should jus’ go date samu then, if he’s so cool and helpful and—”
“but you’ve got thousands of instagram followers,” you pout. “he’s not nearly as famous—”
“always knew ya were after ma fame,” he points accusingly at you, and you giggle, letting him pull you into his chest as he flicks your forehead gently. you wrap your arms around his neck, and he attacks your cheeks with kisses, making you laugh louder as he moves on to your jaw.
“only at first,” you tease, “now i’m after your riches.” atsumu narrows his eyes at you, but the amusement in his irises makes your expression soften. maybe he’s not as gifted in the kitchen, but he certainly knows his way around your heart.
“gonna dump ya in front of all ma fans after ma next game,” he bites back. “can’t wait for it ta be all over the headlines.” and you both giggle, leaning in and sharing a soft kiss as the burnt pan in the sink and the messy counter and the broken glass is all forgotten.
it’s a wonder that atsumu’s made it this far, but you suppose he’s a little miracle that way—and you’re glad he’s your little miracle.
“what if i move onto samu then?”
“are ya trying ta break ma heart?” he whines, digging his head into your neck, and you chuckle, threading your fingers through his strands and kissing his temple.
you’ll certainly go back to cursing his name when you inevitably clean your horrendously messed up kitchen, but for now, you grasp atsumu a little tighter—and you smile to yourself when he squeezes you a little tighter too.
for my baby ris @cyuus i will kill anyone who makes you sad >:(
it’s quiet in the car, and suna drives tensely, side eyeing you as you sit with your arms crossed. it’s evident you don’t want to be in the car with him, but even like this, he’s glad he gets to spend a little extra time with you alone.
“so…” he starts, and immediately, you cut him off, shutting him down firmly.
“no.”
suna purses his lips and sighs, eyes on the road as he continues to drive to your home, and you sit there fuming. you’ve been tricked. fooled. taken advantage of by your own friend as she goes home with some guy she meets. if she can’t drive you home from the party, it just has to be suna, and you wonder why the world is punishing you so cruelly this way.
“you know, i’m a pretty cool guy,” suna insists, turning to you with a raised brow when the car stops at a red light. “you should consider being a little nicer—”
“you’re lame and annoying,” you counter, and he scowls, scoffing that you have it in you to be so bold with himinhis car as he drives you home.
“am not,” he bickers back. and the light is green now, but neither of you notice as you stare each other down.
you hate suna rintaro. you hate him so fiercely, you don’t think you’ll ever feel this passionately about anything else in your life. suna annoys you in every way possible. he acts like he doesn’t care, he slacks off in everything he does, he always rolls his eyes like he knows better, and he even stands around like he owns the place. and you hate him.
you also hate that he stood you up on a date he asked you on himself, but that’s besides the point.
“are too,” you huff childishly.
“look, if this is about that date a few months ago, i told you i mixed up the dates and—”
“it’s about how little you care about things,” you interrupt, and there’s a slight quiver in your voice as you speak. it makes suna’s heart drop, and he feels his stomach twist painfully.
suna rintaro has been in love with you since grade school. he thinks it’s a miracle you ever said yes to him in the first place, and if there’s one thing in his life, one thing at all that he’d do differently, it’s not mixing up the day of your date. he thinks maybe by now you could’ve been a happy little couple with stupidly annoying instagram pictures and obnoxiously ridiculous voicemails and whatever else couples do together. but suna always messes things up, and he wishes he wasn’t always doing things wrong no matter how hard he tries.
his face drops, and he reaches out, opening his mouth to speak.
“look—”
and before he can continue, there’s a loud honking sound behind you that makes you both flinch, someone beeping their horn for him to go on the green light he’s been sitting on for the last two minutes.
suna curses under his breath, pressing the gas pedal and driving off, frowning when you angle your body away from him to face the window.
“you will never change,” you mutter, “i realized that a long time ago.” and it’s cruel really, you’ve spent all this time convincing yourself you’re over suna, but all that’s led you to is falling for him even deeper—and maybe that makes the hatred fester up even more.
“hey, that’s not fair,” he grumbles. “i’m a responsible adult, it was one slip up.”
“did you make your bed this morning?”
“okay, that’s not relevant to adulthood—”
“is your sink empty of dirty dishes?”
“i didn’t get a chance yet to wash—”
“when was the last time you checked your mailbox?”
“who even reads mail these days—”
“face it suna,” you scoff. “you’re hopeless.” and suddenly, the car pulls over, and you turn to him with furrowed brows as he parks the car and faces you, determination settling in his eyes as he throws a glare at your direction.
“well, why are you still so upset over a missed date if you’re not obsessed with me?” he challenges, making you stare at him in disbelief as your mouth hangs open. and now you’re furious—how dare he insinuate something so ridiculous (even though it’s technically kind of true), and how dare he belittle your feelings (even though he technically didn’t, but his tone totally seemed like it).
“what?” you hiss, and he crosses his arms, raising a brow.
“you heard me,” he snaps back, and you should honestly strangle him—and in all realness, if you killed him right here in the middle of the street and left, no one would know it was you, but he smirks, and you lose your sanity just a little more at his hand. “you’re so obsessed with me,” he grins.
“no i am not,” you flare your nostrils, and he snickers, poking your cheek with a cocky smile on his face. you hate how attractive it is.
“i’m obsessed with you too,” he shrugs, as though it’s completely normal. “i’m not quitting until you finally agree on a redo of our date,” he adds, and you scoff.
“no.”
“too bad. not moving this car until you do,” he shrugs.
“suna rintaro,” you say firmly, and he has the audacity to recline his seat back and throw his arms behind his head as he lays down.
“that’s my name,” he says casually.
and this is precisely why you can’t stand him. he never takes anything seriously, and he never puts in an effort to try, and he never cares. you don’t think he ever will.
“i want to go home—”
“youcould,” he starts, “if you agree on a redo date.”
“no,” you huff.
“now you’re just being stubborn,” he scoffs, pouting lightly. you resist the urge to poke his bottom lip with your finger. “what’s the worst that could happen?”
“you stand me up again,” you deadpan, and suna rolls his eyes.
“i’m sorry, okay? it really was an accident, and i didn’t mean it. i really did get the dates confused,” he argues, and there’s a small part of you that tells yourself maybe you’re overreacting. people make mistakes, and you’re certainly not perfect, but this is suna rintaro.
he’s got his little set of fans, he’s got his promising career, and he’s got no reason to be interested in you. you shouldn’t think this way, but maybe he forgot because you really are just that forgettable.
“you wouldn’t have forgotten if you actually cared,” you pout, and he clicks his teeth, reaching over and grabbing your face, pulling your closer. you can feel his breath fan over your lips as he speaks, smelling the minty scent of his gum.
“if i didn’t care, why would i be pining over someone as stubborn as you,” he grunts. “you are really something else,” he mutters, and you give him a dirty look, features scrunching into an offended expression.
“this is not myfault—”
“well, if you’d just listened for a moment—”
“idon’t owe you to listen—”
“you are sodifficult—”
“don’t talk to me—” and you’re cut off by a kiss, and you’d be stunned by the nerve of the man sitting before you if you weren’t so distracted by the heat of his lips and the way his thumb makes your skin light up as he rubs your cheek softly. you should pull away, but you only mold your lips against his and lean in closer, deepening the kiss like your life depends on it.
“knew you were obsessed with me,” he snickers as you both pull away, pouting when you shove at his shoulder harshly.
“you can’t just kiss people out of nowhere, asshole,” you hiss, lips slightly swollen and cheeks feeling hot as you look away. he smirks, pinching your cheek, and you smack his hand away.
“well, we’re both here right now,” he shrugs, “and we already kissed, so we might as well redo the date now.” you try to ignore the way your heart leaps in your chest at the idea.
“fine,” you cave. “but if it sucks, you gotta quit bothering me,” you warn, and a large, giddy little grin spreads across his face, and you almost wish he’d kiss you again as you drink in the sight.
“oh, trust me,” he winks, “it definitely won’t suck.”
“no fucking way,” you say, dropping your bag onto the chair pulled out for you, jaw wide open, “miya osamu?”
the man in front of you hides his own surprise with a smile, holding his hand up to you which you shake hesitantly, “y/n l/n.”
now generally, running into your highschool sweetheart wouldn’t demand such a reaction—it happens, awkward grocery store encounters, new year party mishaps, drunken calls and whatnot. you know, the usual. the only difference this time?
you‘re on a blind date.
and it‘s not helping that osamudoesn’t seem to have gotten any less attractive from back then.
but you always keep your word, as does he, so you swallow your shock and sit down.
“so, how’ve ya been?,” he asks, shifting in his seat as you settle in yours, calling for a waiter. “pretty okay!,” you respond, smiling before you turn to order your food—, “just a second.”
he waits as you speak, and you can feelhis eyes on you. osamu’s always had a rather intense gaze (when he wants to), but for some reason, it doesn’t really feel all that uncomfortable.
your eyes follow the waiters roaming around, clinging to every plate of food that seems to reach everytable but yours. it’s awkward, only slightly, because there’s onething on both of your minds.
“you haven’ changed since highschool,” osamu snatches the words from your mouth, taking in how your eyes widen in the most unnoticeable of ways, tongue swiping over your lips as you nod.
“neither have you,“ you say, because while both of you do look slightly more mature, osamu’s laugh sounds just as it did before, the corner of eyes scrunching up in a smile as they always used to.
⸗ MATTSUN chucks a crumpled piece of paper at your head, grinning when a string of curses leaves you making people in the library turn around and stare. “ready to leave?,” he says, already pushing his chair back to stand up, his hands hovering over the books spread out in front of you—and of course, he only gives you a second before he grabs them all at once, shoving them into his bag. “hey!,” you yell, jumping at him to revive your notes—unfortunately, in vain. the next thing he grabs is you, throwing you over his shoulder (and no, the punches you’re landing on his back make no difference). you’re unable to work for the rest of the day, because what mattsun wants, he gets (and let’s be real, you were going to get kicked out of the library at that rate anyway).
⸗ AKAASHI isn’t one to complain about you working too much, being busy himself—but what he won’tstand for is you spending the little time you get together typing away on your laptop. “love,” he stresses, hand squeezing your thigh gently, “why don’t you take a break, hm?,” he tries to reason—because there’s no way he’d say it directly. “i can’t,” you reply, although you’re already slowing down, mind aching to leave your work unfinished. it only takes one pout and a snarky “you could’ve done this yesterday,” from akaashi to make you abandon your files, turning to bury your head in akaashi’s cashmere sweater, making the man smile secretively. (in other words, he was jealous of how much time that little screen gets to spend with you, well, it’s all good now).
⸗ IWAIZUMI nudges you, an arm wrapping around your waist as he shifts onto his side to look at you—he’s lying down, so his face ends up right in your tummy, making you let out a tired laugh. “just a sec, haji,” you say, ruffling his hair, “almost done.” the broad man grunts, pausing for a second before shaking his head no and propping himself up on his elbows—"you’re leaving that shit, now,“ he demands, making you raise an eyebrow in amusement. ”if you’re needy, just say so,“ you jest, earning a soft glare from the man. ”whatever,“ iwaizumi grumbles—but as you set down your laptop and throw a leg over him, you both are aware of the small smile growing on his face.
