#moments with them

3am convenience store run, ft sawamura daichi [requested by anon]

were you walking in the night at any other time, you would have taken the opportunity to admire the sky. you would have allowed yourself to amble onwards, gazing upwards as you tried to locate constellations or made up your own, pointing out the different shapes to whoever your companion might be. however, this particular late night excursion was an emergency, one you had dragged your friend out of bed to accompany you on.

“we need eggs, sugar and cocoa powder,” you explained as you walked down the street with a speed daichi rarely saw from you.

“i still don’t really understand why you need me with you,” he stated, easily keeping pace beside you.

“i figured you wouldn’t be asleep,” you explained, reaching out a hand to grab sawamura’s wrist as you turned suddenly, stopping outside of the shop, “and this is a good a distraction as any. plus, you’re going to be a police officer. you could consider this training: how to protect a young, defenseless university student whose on an unnecessary, yet somehow important, late night shop run.”

“i think i’ve already had that class,” he teased, following you as you entered the shop. you grinned back at him, glad to see the lines of tension that bracketed his face finally relaxing.

“then consider this a recap lesson,” you said, clearing your throat. “step one, help the defenseless student locate the items they came for.”

as it were, the items really weren’t that difficult to locate. the shop had a small baking section at the end of an aisle, an aisle which was beside the eggs. while daichi went to grab the eggs, you scanned the shelf, adding the cocoa powder and sugar to your basket. at the sound of daichi’s arrival, you looked over to face him.

“you want anything else?” you asked, already walking to where the drinks were. daichi followed, seeming to think for a while before he picked up an iced coffee. your eyebrows rose. daichi wasn’t a big coffee drinker. personally, he had always found it too bitter, and couldn’t understand how people could drink it so obsessively.

“i’m tired, and there’s no way i’ll be getting any sleep if i’m helping you with your baking,” he said, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards sleepily.

smiling over at him, you took the drink from his hand and placed it in the basket. “come on. let’s pay for this and then go home.”

sleepover, ft suna rintaro [requested by anon]

“i can’t believe i let you convince my parents and yours that this was a good idea,” drawled suna, surveying your room with a bored look. “i still don’t understand why they agreed. we’re not ten anymore. we’ve got hormones and shit. what if i suddenly find you so sexy i can’t control myself?”

“i’d kick you in the balls and throw you out onto the street,” you grinned, taking the opportunity to throw one of the many cushions you owned towards him. he caught it deftly, a definite negative of being best friends with an athlete. it was rare that you could hit them with surprise flying projectiles. “anyway, they trust you, and have good reason to. you would never hurt me.”

that final statement was said with confidence. there was no reason for you to doubt that statement. in all the years you had known each other, suna had never done anything to hurt you. he was certainly the cause behind most of your feelings of annoyance, and would not hesitate to embarrass you by treating everyone to a photo you hoped would never see the light of day, but he would never hurt you.

suna gave a nod, finally doing what you had been waiting for him to do since you lead him upstairs. he threw himself down on your bed, tucked one arm behind his head and draped the other one across his stomach.

“you need me, i’ll be here,” he announced, letting his eyes shut.

“fucking typical,” you muttered, giving him a hard push that sent him teetering on the edge of the bed. “you are not here to sleep. you are here so we can eat rubbish, watch films and talk shit about people. i already know how much material you’ve got locked up in that phone of yours and i want you to show it to me.”

“don’t shove me again, and you’ve got a deal,” suna decided, letting himself drop gracefully to the floor. he stood, turning to face you and sticking out a hand.

agreeing on what food to order was not so easily resolved. you bickered back and forth for almost an hour before you threw down your phone with a huff. instead of communicating with suna about what you were doing, you walked out of your bedroom, stomped down the stairs and into the kitchen. grumbling angrily to yourself, you yanked the frozen pizzas from the freezer, jumping to avoid a tub of ice cream that had come flying out in response. pots, pans and trays clattered as you rifled through the drawers looking for the pizza trays. suna watched all this with an amused smirk: one, because he had already ordered food (and it had been your original choice), and two, because he was currently documenting this moment on his phone.

turning to face him, you spat out, “at least be helpful and taking the fucking pizza from the box.”

your eyes narrowed when he walked forward and carried out your request with zero protests. it was suspicious. he was never one to quietly obey.

“what did you do?” you questioned, edging closer to where he had propped up his phone. it was placed at the perfect angle to film the whole thing, a fact that did not escape you. “you… you ordered a takeaway, didn’t you?”

his grin widened as he nodded in confirmation and it took all your will power not to close the distance between you and punch him. drawing in a deep breath, you forced yourself to give him a polite, fake smile. your words and tone of voice were far from polite, however, as you commanded, “put the pizza in the fucking oven, dick.”

suna had the good sense to listen to you, but only after he had ensured the video was saved on his phone and his phone was out of your reach.

as luck would have it, the amount of food you ended up with was consumed between you two easily over the course of the night. it kept you sustained during the hours you spent talking, ensured that no stomach grumbles could interrupt the films you were watching.

you fell asleep to the sound of explosions and laughter (a weird combination for any movie, but this movie had been the compromise between the two genres you had been torn between), and suna’s occasional murmur as he commented on something happening on screen.

it was some time later when you felt a blanket being tucked around you, a hand smoothing back your hair and the gentle press of lips to your forehead.

“good night, ugly,” mumbled suna sleepily.

you felt the mattress shift beneath you before you were pulled back into sleep once more.

first kiss, ft miya atsumu [requested by anon]

there was a comfort which came from knowing someone for a long time, a comfort that put you completely at ease around a person, that allowed you to relax in an embrace given by them.

that comfort, that ease, had never existed between you and astumu.

you were friends, as close as two people could be. osamu would state that you felt like extended family, a sister he’d never had, while your family would embrace the sentiment, treating atsumu as one of their own.

but you lacked that ease of physical contact, and you didn’t know if it was because the feel of his arm around you made you think about what it would be like to be his or if he was simply adverse to physical contact towards you.

atsumu rarely hesitated to hug a fan, giving them a friendly squeeze before releasing them. he would gladly put up with their demands for kisses on the cheek, or a photo of them holding hands. with you, a moment of contemplation was required before he would embrace you, his hands carefully placed at the centre of your back. it was never for too long, just long enough to be considered a hug, before he pulled away. at times, you had to fight the urge to clutch at his top and hold onto him. other times, you stiffened in his hold, unsure of how to respond.

he treated you with so much care, so much tenderness, you often found yourself wondering why. but, the idea that it could be because he was in love with you never crossed your mind.

“y/n?” questioned atsumu, reaching over to adjust the blanket currently draped over the both of you. you turned to look at him, eyebrows furrowed. “have ya ever been in love?”

you hesistated. he could see the conflict in your eyes, the confusion. he could see the exact moment you decide to answer his question with one of your own. “have you?”

“i asked ya first,” he protested, letting out a laugh as he moved closer, letting his shoulder rest against yours. “i’m curious.”

“well, i’m-i-i don’t really know how to answer that question,” you stammered, heat rushing to your cheeks. all you could focus on was his nearness, the press of his shoulder against yours.

“we’ll answer it together,” he decided, watching you carefully. it took you a moment before you nodded, gathering your thoughts and deciding on an answer. “ready? three… two… one… yes.”

“yes,” you breathed, voice barely above a whisper. it took you a moment to register his response before you blurted, “who?”

in all the years you had known atsumu, he had never been in a serious relationship, only over engaging in casual hook ups according to a reliable source called miya osamu.

“was it unrequited? are you together? how have you managed to hide a relationship from everyone?” you continued to fire questions at him.

“to answer one of those questions, we’re not together,” he admitted, those honey brown eyes still watching you, still trying to gauge your reaction. “i’m not really sure how they feel. i hope it’s not unrequited. i’m plannin’ on finding out soon.”

“do i know them?” you asked.

“you do,” he replied. a slight smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. “i’d say ya probably know them better than i do.”

“oh,” you said, unable to hide the bitter note of disappointment in your voice.

“can i ask ya a question now?” he asked. he’d moved closer to you, was leaning in to peer at your face, his hands twitching at his sides. “who are ya in love with?”

“um, i-i-i…” you trailed off. it was silent between the pair of you, the only sound that of your breaths and the gentle murmur of the television.

“fuck it.”

warm, calloused hands cupped your face as he brought his lips to yours. it was just a kiss, a simple press of his lips against yours. they were softer than you thought they’d be, and he was gentle, so gentle as one hand slid back to cup the back of your head, the other moving down to hold your waist, pulling you into him. his lips coaxed yours open, encourging you to return the kiss. you found yourself sinking into the feeling of being held by him, your own arms reaching up to twine together around his neck.

he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. “just in case you had any doubts, the person i was talking about was you.”

grocery shopping, ft iwaizumi hajime [requested by anon]

it was so stupid how something as simple as shopping for food could become a part of the week that iwaizumi genuinely looked forward to.

dressed in clothes that bordered on sleepwear (baggy tops and bottoms), you would drive to your local supermarket. you were armed with a list you had spent last night compiling, with iwaizumi in charge of steering the trolley and holding all the bags (one of the many things his arms were good for - the list was extensive, ranging from lifting you off your feet during a hug or pulling himself up into the loft with no need for a ladder).

you would take the lead, guiding him through a maze of aisles which were easy to get lost in. despite the rigid straight lines and the easy to read labels, you still managed to loose track of where you were going at times, finding yourselves in the meat aisle when what you were really looking for was the milk. your brows would furrow in frustration as you grabbed a packet of mince in a huff, grumbling that it wasn’t what you were looking for but you needed it nonetheless. your reaction always caused iwaizumi to laugh, part of the reason behind your ability to get lost.

whenever a look of confusion would pass over your face and your finger would skim down the list, he would know that you had forgotten to add ingredients for (or even think of) a meal. this would lead to a shared look as you would both turn to grab the food you most wanted, a playful argument ensuing over who should choose the final meal.

“i compromised on almost every meal this week,” you would declare, to which iwaizumi would shrug.

“i have better taste,” he would tease. “i’m more cultured because of all the travelling i do.”

he would recieve a middle finger for his light teasing, the twinkle in your eyes telling him it was all in jest. usually, he would let you put what you wanted to eat in the trolley unless it was something truly strange.

there had been one time when you had grabbed pasta (which was not what he was objecting to), chocolate sauce and marshmallows. he had to put his foot down. not only was it a weird food combination, but he was a personal trainer and knew just how unhealthy that was as a dinner. the only thing you had said in response was to ‘blame tiktok’. later that same week, he had seen you curled up on the sofa eating a bowl of it.

the only thing both of you hated about your weekly food shop was packing the food away at the till. neither of you were skilled packers, often having to rely on your friends (oikawa) to help you pack for holidays. it wasn’t that you were messy or disorganised, it was simply that the both of you didn’t know how to place the food to achieve maximum bag space. despite the number of bags you would bring (and you would bring a lot), you would always end up buying one from the shop.

“nope,” you protested as iwaizumi reached up to grab one of the bags hanging from a hook. “they have to fit. they have to.”

he looked down at you, a comically grave look on his face. “it won’t, y/n. we’ll just buy another one.”

“just load me up, haji,” you declared, holding out your arms as a gesture for him to begin placing the small mountain into your hold. he simply ignored you, handing the cashier the correct money and loading up the bag. he glanced over at you, at the adorable frown tugging at your lips.

“help me pack,” he said, grinning at the huff you let out as you dropped your arms and began to shove things haphazardly into the bag. a mocking tone took over his voice. “we’re going to need another one at this rate.”

“nope,” you said while you shook your head. “you’re going to pile me up if it doesn’t fit. i am not spending another penny on any more bags during this shopping trip.”

it goes without saying that you ended up buying more bags.

“i swear we buy more food each week,” you grumbled.

“well, if you stopped inviting our friends over for dinner, we’d have enough bags…”

“makki invites himself over,” you protested, reaching into your bag for the car keys. “besides, you’re the one who always wants to 'cook for the team’ and 'build your bonds of trust’ and some other bullshit i can’t remember right now.”

“we should start charging a dinner fee,” mused iwaizumi.

“or we could stop inviting people over.”

“we both know that’s not going to happen.”