sophie

there are few things oikawa tooru is bad at. controlling himself is one of them, at least when it comes to you. right now, perched on his bed and the prior topic of conversation long forgotten, he is peppering kisses onto every exposed surface of your body as if he needs his lips to learn you just as much as his hands.

as for the parts of you that remain unexposed? well, he could take care of that very easily—and that he does.

he nudges the collar of your shirt down just enough, his breath searing hot against your bare skin. this time, instead of exploring your body, he lingers, and his chaste pecks turn into deep, slow kisses. you can't help but let a noise bubble from your throat at the sensation.

"don't leave a mark, tooru," you plead, your voice straining with effort to remain steady. "i have to be presentable tomorrow."

"you're always perfect," he murmurs, still pressed against your neck. "screw the work dress code."

just as you were about to rebut with a that's not how it works, you feel a sharp nip at your collarbone, and you yelp in surprise.

hours later, when you emerge from the room, you're pleasantly surprised to find that just like how he executes every set for his ace and the way his hair lies after he wakes up every morning, he's perfectly hidden a reminder of himself on you for the next couple days.

miya atsumu is the bane of your existence. or, he might be the reason for it—you'll never know. all you know right now is that his hands, perched precariously on the hem of your shirt, are dangerously closed to exposing more than you were willing to share at the moment. you feel a slight tug on the fabric, and a whisper in your ear:

"is this okay?"

if you were standing, your knees would have given out from the weight of your heart swelling with adoration. thank goodness you were sitting in his lap instead, legs wrapped around his waist.

you nod, and he wastes no time slipping his fingers under your shirt. his hands rest in the space between your waist and your hips, slotting perfectly into place. the gentle brush of his thumbs sends shivers down your spine that burrow into the furthest reaches of your body. as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, you feel the beginnings of a smile forming on his lips, and on yours, too. your hands are on his, guiding it further up your body, and he takes the liberty of mapping the uncharted hills and valleys of your body. the sounds you make are telltale; there are still things he hasn't made you experience before.

fret not—he's set on changing that very soon.

you know things are going to get serious when tsukishima kei takes his glasses off when you kiss. long gone were the days of bumping noses and awkwardly clacking teeth, of giggles and hiding burning cheeks. the same hands that concealed your face in embarrassment are now tangled in his hair, pulling his body closer in an ache for more. a roiling sensation sparks and sputters within your abdomen, though it was far from foreign for you. (the only thing is, it was usually felt when you laid alone in the darkness of night, waiting for the overwhelming heaviness of sleep to subdue its consuming fire.) before you could do anything about it, your lips unexpectedly meet air, limbs untangling. you're met with the sight of his face, blond locks disheveled. (what could have possibly been the reason for that?) oh, how pretty he looks. you're about to pout in protest, but his body anticipates your objection. his arm firmly holds you at a distance, and with one swift motion, takes his glasses off with his spare hand.

"look at me," he rasps. be it softly, you knew him well enough to know that it was a command. "i want to see you properly this time. without this in the way," dangling his glasses from his fingertips.

it's ironic, because you spend the better part of the next hour seeing absolutely nothing except stars.

ft. miya atsumu ಌ a three part smau series by yuzurins

part one ∗ part two ∗ part three

extra.

“‘tsumu, get off. you’re drooling all over my shirt.”

“no!” atsumu whines, clinging onto you even tighter. “you can’t tell me what to do!”

you sigh and question how you’ve gotten into this situation. atsumu’s previous image of being someone admirable had long dissipated, replaced with one quite similar to a golden retriever.

easy to please yet quick to sulk.

it’s cute, and you wouldn’t trade the world for it, but it’s quite undeniable that it does get tiring sometimes, especially when you have to be the mature one in order to cancel out atsumu’s childishness.

“oh yeah?” you look down at the arms around your waist. “are you sure about that, atsumu?”

atsumu gasps, loosening his hold slightly, which allows you to take the opportunity to escape his grasp. you exhale in relief, sitting on the edge of the bed with your back towards your boyfriend.

“y/n…” he starts, immediately pouting as he sits like a child with his knees turned out.

“don’t do this first thing in the morning, atsu—“

“don’t say that!” he cuts you off, grabbing your wrist before you get off the bed. “don’t be mad at ‘tsumu…”

“are you still drunk???” you rub your eyes, still refusing to face him.

“does it matter if i am or not?” atsumu turns his head away, scrunching his nose as he lightly tugs on your arm. “is it so wrong to want to snuggle after a long night of drinking?”

you know better than anyone how to play atsumu’s game, and usually by now you would’ve given in, but after everything that’s happened yesterday, you feel the need to get back at him just a little.

“that was your own choice, you know? i told you many times that you would face the consequences of your actions if you drank that much.”

“well we rarely have time to eat with suna and ‘samu, i just wanted to—“ atsumu wails, clutching his head in pain. “ow, my head—“

before you know it, you’re already at atsumu’s side, grabbing his face with both hands to check his complexion. “are you okay, ‘tsumu? do you need water? medicine?”

atsumu looks at you for a few seconds, before breaking into a big grin. you gasp quietly as you realize that you’ve already fallen into his trap, quite literally by instinct.

“gotcha!” he laughs, pouncing onto you with both arms to trap you in his hold. “no leaving me now.”

you scoff and sit in shock at how silly your boyfriend was. atsumu’s not stupid—he knows that he’s being difficult, and he knows that he should probably let you out of bed to get ready for the day. but more than that, he knows that he’s the one you care the most about in the entire world, and he used it to his advantage!

what a cunning guy.

with his head turned to you, atsumu nuzzles his left cheek into your shoulder. “just a little longer? please?”

you smile, finally admitting defeat to those puppy eyes of his. “ten more minutes.”

“no!” his grip gets tighter, burying his entire face into your shoulder, and he mumbles, “i need at least an hour!”

atsumu feels you tense up and immediately turns to look over at your face, only to find you trying to hold your giggles back from the tickling feeling that emerges whenever atsumu talks into your shoulder.

“fine…” you reluctantly agree, finally giving in. “but you’re going to—“

“deal!”

“you didn’t even let me finish!”

“don’t care, i’ll do whatever you want~” atsumu reaches up to give you a peck on the cheek before settling into your shoulder again. “besides, we rarely ever have days off together. let me enjoy my daily dose of y/n.”

in which your secret crush (who happens to be your best friend's other best friend) decides to hit you up on instagram...

pairing: miya atsumu x f!reader

ft. miya atsumu ಌ a three part smau series by yuzurins

part one ∗ part two ∗ part three

in which your secret crush (who happens to be your best friend's other best friend) decides to hit you up on instagram...

pairing: miya atsumu x f!reader

(get the reference)

atsumu miya is a proud man.

he’s proud of his career, his hair, his muscles, of everything about him. he prides himself on being the best. but he’s especially proud of being your boyfriend.

it is in atsumu’s nature to show off every time, and of course he adores showing you off the most. every time that he looks at you, his eyes are filled with admiration and adoration, he looks at you like you’re the most incredible thing that could’ve ever happened to him, which you are.

so when they see the two of you, people are quick to imagine that you are pretty quiet, the one keeping him in check.

they couldn’t be more wrong.

like most evenings after going to the gym, atsumu stands in front of the large mirror in your shared bathroom, flexing and inspecting the muscles of his body. he flexes his arms, showing off his biceps, pecs and back, slowly turning around to stare at every possible angle.

and of course atsumu could do all this directly at the gym, he isn’t that stupid and does check his muscles there too, but he knows how you get when he shows off his muscles...

as if on cue, you appear into the mirror, leaning against the doorframe, your eyes scanning over your boyfriend’s figure. amused, atsumu’s eyes stay on you as he watches your own roam around his body as you ruffle your hair and bit your lower lip.

“see somethin’ ya like, babe?” his lips curl into a snarky smirk as he flexs his arms just a tad bit more.

rolling your eyes at his remark, you slowly step closer to him, your eyes still stuck on him. once you reached him, you wrapped your arms around his neck from behind, your nails sliding and scratching against atsumu's skin making him shiver and his expression falter.

“uhm, you look good baby...” you practically purr as your nails slide against his muscles, sinking your teeth in his back and shoulders before kissing the spot.

as if reacting to your voice and touch, his body twitches, aching to be closer and closer to you, his ears and the back of his neck flushing under your praises. “oh yah? think so?” his voice falters as a breathe gets stuck in his throat when you nibbles on his tanned skin.

your small ‘mhm’ is what breaks him, he turns around, his hands finding their rightful place on your hips, tugging you closer to him as to flush your chest against his naked torso.

immediately, one of your hands ends up on the back of his neck, grazing at his undercut while the other rests on his biceps, squishing to feel the muscles under your touch.

atsumu lets out a real groan, muttering a quiet ‘fuck’ before flipping you onto his shoulder and rushing to the bedroom while you laugh and kiss his cheek.

─ ⟡ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ “kisses & kisses.”

𝜗ৎ atsumu miya × fem!reader 𝜗ৎ

⤷ in which… you keep interrupting him with kisses while he's talking about his day. ⊹ ࣪ ˖

The apartment was unusually quiet.

Practice had run late, dinner had been eaten straight out of takeout containers on the coffee table, and now the rain tapped softly against the windows while the two of you occupied the couch.

Or rather… You occupied Atsumu.

One of his arms was lazily draped around your waist while your head rested against his chest. His shirt was warm from the shower he'd taken not long ago, and his freshly washed blond hair had already begun sticking up in every direction.

He looked unfairly cozy.

"...An' then Bokuto somehow convinced Hinata ta race him up the stairs," Atsumu said, absentmindedly playing with your fingers. "Coach walked in right as they started, an'—"

You leaned up. Peck. A tiny kiss landed on his cheek.

He blinked. "...Anyway," he continued, smiling despite himself. "Coach just looked at 'em like—"

Peck. The other cheek this time.

His sentence dissolved into a little laugh. "...Ya serious?"You simply smiled. "What?" "Nothin'."

He shook his head, trying very hard to look exasperated. "So, as I was sayin'..." He cleared his throat dramatically. "Bokuto nearly tripped over a medicine ball because—"

Peck. Right on the corner of his jaw. "..."

He looked down at you. "...Did ya just interrupt me?" "I don't know what you're talking about." "...Ya absolutely do." "I was listening." "Were ya?" "Mhm." "So what did Bokuto trip over?" You blinked. "...Volleyball?" Atsumu burst into laughter, "YA WEREN'T LISTENIN'!" "I was listening to your voice." He immediately stopped laughing. "...That's..." His ears turned pink. "...That's kinda smooth." "I know."

He pointed at you accusingly, "Yer dangerous."

He tried again. "So then Omi-kun—"

Peck. "Omi-kun said—" Peck. "Baby." "Hm?" "Will ya lemme finish?" You nodded very sincerely. "Of course." "...Promise?" "I promise."

He narrowed his eyes. "I don't trust that face." "My face?" "Yeah." "What's wrong with my face?" "It looks like it's plannin' somethin'." "It would never." "...Liar."

He took a deep breath. "ANYWAY." You giggled.

"Omi-kun said if Bokuto broke another piece of equipment, he was gonna make him clean the entire gym. Then Hinata started laughin', an' Bokuto got all dramatic, an'—"

You gently reached up. Brushed a strand of messy blond hair away from his forehead. He instinctively leaned into your touch.

"...What?" "Nothin'." He smiled softly. "...Keep doin' that."You smiled right back. Instead of answering… You kissed his forehead. Very gently. Atsumu completely forgot what he was talking about.

"...Uh..."He blinked once. Twice. "...Where was I?" "You were talking about Bokuto." "Right." "...I think."

He frowned thoughtfully. "Wait..." "...What was Bokuto doin'?" You started laughing. "Oh my gosh." "It's yer fault!" "My fault?" "Yeah!"

He poked your side. "Ya kissed all the thoughts outta my head!" "I don't think that's how brains work." "Well then explain why I forgot." "You have the memory of a goldfish." "I do NOT." "You forgot where your phone was yesterday." "'Cause it was in my pocket!" "Exactly."

Atsumu dramatically sighed. "I see how it is."

He crossed his arms. "I'm bein' sabotaged." "I would never sabotage you." "...Really?" "Mhm."

He leaned closer. "...Then why've ya kissed me..." He pretended to count on his fingers. "...Seven times?"

"Has it been seven?" "It has!" "...Maybe it should be eight."

Before he could react—Peck. His nose.

Atsumu froze. "...Ya kissed my nose." "I did." "...Ya never kissed my nose before." "I do now." "...I kinda liked it." "I know."

His entire face was pink now. Not just his ears. His cheeks matched the warm glow of the lamp beside the couch. "You keep lookin' at me like that." "Like what?" "...Like I'm cute." You stared at him. "...Tsumu." "What?" "You are cute."

He made the strangest sound. Half laugh. Half whine. "Don't say it so casually!" "But it's true." "...I'm supposed ta be cool." "You can be both." "...Can I be hot too?" "You are." "And cute?" "Mhm." "And funny?" "Sometimes, mostly annoying." "HEY."

He finally gave up on telling his story.

Instead, he looked down at you with the fondest expression you'd ever seen. "...Y'know..." "Hm?" "I really like ya." You smiled. "I know." "No, I mean..."

He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly bashful despite the grin tugging at his lips. "I really, really like ya." His brown eyes were so bright they almost sparkled. "I get ta tell ya about my day." "I get ta come home ta ya." "I get ta cuddle ya." "...An' then ya randomly decide my face needs kissin'." "It does." "It does?" "Mhm." "...Why?"

You reached up and cupped his warm face between your hands.

His messy blond hair flopped over his forehead, hopelessly untidy from your fingers running through it earlier. His cheeks were rosy. His smile was so wide it made your own impossible to hide. "...Because you're adorable."

Atsumu's brain completely stopped functioning. "...Ya can't just say stuff like that." "I just did." "I know!" He covered his face with one hand. "I can feel myself blushin'!" "You are." "Stop lookin'!" "I can't." "WHY?" "'Cause you're adorable."

He groaned dramatically, letting his head fall onto your shoulder. "I'm never recoverin' from this..." "You'll live." “Barely."

You laughed quietly. Then, almost absentmindedly… You kissed his cheek again. Another peck. Then his forehead. Then the tip of his chin. "...Baby." "Hm?" "...Are ya done?" You tilted your head innocently. "...No." "...I had a feelin'."

Before you could steal another kiss—Atsumu suddenly lunged. "oof—!" He wrapped both arms around you, gently pulling you backwards until you both collapsed into a pile of blankets, your laughter filling the apartment.

"Tsumu!" "Nope!" He buried his face against your shoulder, holding you impossibly close. "Ya've officially lost kiss privileges." "I have?" "Mhm." "'Cause ya won't stop interruptin' me!" "But you weren't talking anymore." "...That's beside the point."

You giggled, squirming just enough to peek at his face. His blond hair was an absolute mess now, sticking out in every direction. His cheeks were still bright pink.

And despite all his complaining… There it was.

That huge, sunshine-bright smile. The one that crinkled his eyes until they almost disappeared. The one you loved so much. "...You're smiling." "'M not." "You are." "'M frownin'." "That's the happiest frown I've ever seen." He huffed dramatically. "...Fine." "...Maybe I am."

He looked at you for a long moment. Then smiled even wider. "...Can't help it." "Why?"

He squeezed you tighter, as if he was afraid you'd somehow drift away. "'Cause I'm holdin' my favorite person." Your heart melted. "...You're so cheesy." "I know." "...Hopelessly cheesy." "I know." "...Ridiculously in love." His grin turned soft. "Mhm."

He nudged his forehead against yours. "An' I'd choose ya..." He pressed one tiny kiss to your forehead this time. "...Every single day."

You smiled so hard your cheeks hurt. "...You finally got to kiss me back." He gasped dramatically. "...WAIT." "...I WON." "You won?""I got the last kiss!" You laughed so hard you nearly fell off the couch.

Atsumu laughed with you, bright and loud and wonderfully unrestrained, the sound filling every corner of the apartment.

He'd completely forgotten the story he'd been trying to tell. Neither of you cared. Not when the rain was falling outside. Not when you were tangled together beneath a blanket.

And especially not when Atsumu Miya looked at you with that impossibly jolly smile—as though, after everything volleyball had given him, coming home to you was still the very best part of his day.

─ ⟡ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ a note from aika! tysm for reading!!! yes gawd damn I HAD to repost this because TUMBLR FRIGGIN LABELED THIS AS MATURE CONTENT LIKE WHAT NO??? and the problem WAS MY FRIGGIN HEADER like OMG WHY??? anyways thanks for reading!!! this idea randomly popped to my head when I was thinkin bout how adorable atsumu's smile was LIKE UGHH so cute and I honestly rushed this SO IM SORRY FOR ANY MISTAKES!!! I miiiiiight write an osamu version... Maybe maybe... WELL YEA TYSM!!! ⊹ ࣪ ˖

⸝⸝ 𝑊𝑎𝑠𝑛'𝑡 𝑀𝑎𝑑 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑛 , 𝐴𝑚 𝑁𝑜𝑤

pretending to be mad at atsumu as a joke is a bit hard, until it’s not. ⸝⸝ cw : Fluff , childish atsumu , slightly suggestive

⸝⸝ husband atsumu miya x fem!reader ಄

masterlist more haikyuu req rules

”I’m tired.” You shrug him off.

His hand paused by your thigh, confused as to why you’re acting so cold to him when you were fine an hour ago. To add to his slowly spreading wound, you curled your legs closer to your body and continued to read in silence.

Not one glance his way, no joking smiles that defused the tension—you were frowning, a crease forming between your brows, the same one that told him you were annoyed. But at what?

He doesn’t remember eating your left overs, he knew better than to mess with your food by now. Did he leave his socks on the floor again?

Surely not. He looked around the living room, the kitchen, then down the hallway. Everything seemed to be normal.

Atsumu’s hand slowly retreated back to his side. For the moment he just watched as you read the new book he bought you yesterday. He noticed how your body was angled away from him, like the thought of being so close to your husband, the love of your life, repulsed you.

He pouted.

“What’s all that for?” He tried to put his hand on your leg, you shifted away. Now he was concerned. “Babe?”

Your sigh carried the weight of frustration and barely restrained annoyance. “Just stop it, would you atsumu? I’m trying to read.”

He narrowed his eyes at you and his pout only intensified. How rude. “Ya, the book I bought you.” Respecting your aversion to his touch, he kept his hands away. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t let lean his face so annoyingly close until you gave him answers. “Which means you should be paying attention to me.”

You paused in your reading, genuinely caught off guard for the moment. “In what world does that make sense?”

“My world.” He straightened, rolling his eyes all dramatic. “And I’m the most handsome love of yer life, therefore I’m yer world, henceforth this is common logic.”

A beat of silence goes by.

You, staring incredulously at the wall, trying hard not to laugh in disbelief. First of all, when did he expand his vocabulary? Two, that’s the most stupidest string of thoughts you’ve ever listened to. That’s saying a lot considering you’re married to him.

Atsumu stared at you with such agonising pride you don’t think you’d be able to hold character if you looked at him.

“you,” a soft breath left you. “Are so incredibly stupid.”

His grin split across his face. Wide and screaming ‘I’m so winning this argument’.“I’m yer stupid, though.”

You gave him a look, one mother’s did to their misbehaving children. “Shut up.”

He cocked his head to the side and his grin settled into something softer, teasing. Leaning in now, knowing damn well he’s not in the red zone anymore, he planted a fat kiss on your cheek.

“still mad?”

“I wasn’t mad.”

he stared at you.

You’re the one grinning now.

“It was a joke.”

Atsumu huffed loudly. Plucking the book from your hands, he chucked it across the room.

You inhale sharply, panicked. “Atsumu NO!”

Scrambling from the couch, you don’t very get far. Atsumu had already reached for you and wrapped his arms around your waist. He pulled you back down onto the couch. You writhe, pushing at his face. He grunted.

“Off, you dog!”

“It’s not that important!”

An offended gasp. “yes, it is!”

“baaaaaaaabe.” He whines, holding you tighter. Despite knowing you wouldn’t be moving an inch, you continued to try. Atsumu lays his whole body against you, pinning you down to the soft cushions with his weight. “Don’t be like that!”

“You threw my book.” Your seething glare makes him smile innocently. Because yes, now you were actually annoyed.

Atsumu leant on his elbows, hair falling messy over his forehead from the struggle. He looked down at you with an intensity that made you swallow thickly.

The treachery is momentarily forgotten as he leaned in, noses brushing against each other as he pressed a soft, featherlight kiss against the corner of your parted mouth,

“‘Tsumu..”

“Theeere it is.” He kisses along your cheek, against your neck. “Hate when you call me my full name.” He paused against the fluttering pulse on your neck.

Your hips shift and he can’t help but smile against your neck.

Just as he felt your back arch into him, your hands pressed against his shoulders like you didn’t know whether or not you wanted to pull him closer or keep him away, you shove him off the couch.

“ACK!”

Your husband laid in a heap of dramatically splayed limbs and muscle. Sitting up, you dust off your hands and huff. There was a warmth to your cheeks that you didn’t want to acknowledge even as you glared down at him.

“Don’t ever throw my book again, do you hear me?”

“Y-yes wife..” he groaned, rolling over and curling into a fetus position. He sniffled, betrayed.

You shake your head in resignation and pick your book back up from the floor, dusting off the cover and walking back to sit down on the couch to continue reading from where you left off. “If there’s so much as a crease in these pages atsumu, you’re sleeping outside.”

A teary gaze finds your own. “But it’s winter.”

You don’t budge. “One singular crease.”

Atsumu pouted.

"yer kidding."

atsumu stares at the drawing of himself that you made. inspired by a popular couple challenge, you both wanted to paint each other in 30 minutes and share the final products at the end.

"that looks nothing like me! why is my hair so yellow?" he complains.

"that's because it is yellow," you answer matter-of-factly.

he scrutinizes the painting more closely. "you drew me with a comically evil smile."

"to capture your essence when you're playing on the court," you reply. "anyways let's see your painting then, picasso."

atsumu's mood shifts as he sheepishly turns the canvas around to reveal what you can only assume to be a portrait of yourself. except it might've been the most hideous, color-clashing thing you've ever seen.

"i look awful!" you say incredulously through a fit of laughter.

"don't laugh!" atsumu exclaims. "i put a lot of effort into it. yer just too beautiful to capture in a painting."

"your flattery will get you places," you remark. "though not in the art world. i think you should stick to volleyball."

"yer just too scared to admit that i'll be creatin' the modern day mona lisa soon. with some practice, my stuff's gonna be in famous museums."

you can't help but chuckle at his obvious exaggerations. "whatever you say, 'tsumu. and pigs'll start flying in the sky tomorrow."

ultimately, the two of you decide that painting just isn't for either of you. but despite the comical ugliness of the portraits, they're still displayed on the walls of your shared living room.

for more works, check out my masterlist

| pairing: Atsumu Miya x gn!reader

tags and details! • random texts w/ bf atsumu and gn!reader !! Atsumu x reader, smau, post time skip, slight ooc? cursing, suggestive in some slides, atsumu is lowk unpredictable

a/n: YAY ATSUMU SMAU! this was a bit rushed bc i was trying to just get content out but THERES GONNA BE A PT 2!!!! I ❤️ Atsumu. I took a lot of inspo from my suna smau because atsumu is suna in blonde form. thjs smau isn’t my best but yk part two is gonna be lit. next smau is either osamu or tsukki!! have fun reading guys

365 PARTY GIRL !

frat!atsumu x partygirl!reader

IN WHICH — you drunkenly give your number to atsumu, who then refuses to let you go

EXTRA — swearing, suggestive jokes, somewhat fluff, mentions of alcohol & sex, college au, lowkey mean reader, down bad atsumu

Your hand is in his face before you realize it.

"Mmrph!"

It's so fucking dark.

"'Tsumu?" you whisper, squinting at the shadowy lump next to you. Your boyfriend's familiar fingers wrap around your wrist. "What is it? What's happening?"

Miya Atsumu finally frees his face from your hand. You wince at the wet saliva rapidly drying on your fingers. "Babe," he huffs, "didja hafta shove me?"

"You're the one who did something weird," you shoot back quietly, though your half-asleep brain can't quite remember what that thing was. "Did you… lick my hand?"

You take a few more seconds to chew, glaring daggers at him the whole time. He closes his eyes to bask in his own smartitude, and to avoid seeing you trying to kill him with your eyes.

“We’re not dating,” you say after finally swallowing. “You are not my boyfriend. And I will see whoever I want, whenever I want.”

“No, the agreement is every other Saturday and most Sundays,” he says, your words going whistling through the empty space between his ears.

“I didn’t agree at all,” you say, getting up and throwing away your sandwich bag. He follows you like a lost puppy, which only makes you feel like putting a leash on him and clipping it to a lamppost so he can’t keep bothering you. “You decided something insane like you always do.”

“Wow, so we agree!” He claps his hands together. “Just like when you decided we were broken up without any input from me—”

“It’s not a two-person decision!” You whirl on him, hands on your hips. “We’re done, ‘Tsumu. Get that through your thick skull!”

His pretty brown eyes are shiny. You grit your teeth and try not to let it sway you. His lip trembles and you almost smack him in the face just in the hopes that hitting the appliance will make it stop malfunctioning. You settle for whacking your chest violently, as if trying to rid yourself of a cough.

“No,” he shakes his head finally. “Nope. Not how it works.”

“It literally is,” you hiss.

"Do I get visitation?" He begs. "What about our plushies? They need to see their dad?"

"They are inanimate."

"Don't say that!" Atsumu says. "Don't say hurtful things you don't mean."

"Fine," you relent. "You're right. This is the first time it's ever happened."

"Thank you," he sighs deeply, tipping his chin up into the air. The way the sunlight limns his features is unfair, a cruel and unusual biological weapon. He puts his hands together in prayer like it'll sway your opinion. "Anyway, this is a compromise, baby. This is me trying to compromise."

"You can't compromise a breakup," you say. "Are you dumb? Do you know that you're actually dumb?"

"We basically did," he squeezes his eyes shut in case it'll make the prayer work faster. "We didn't stop hanging out, anyway."

"All my stuff is at yours," you argue. "What, am I gonna do my homework at my own house? Without my lucky pencils?"

"Yes," he says. "Well—no! But you could move it out! If you actually wanted to stop seeing me. So instead this is me compromising."

"That would be insane and inconvenient," you say. "Two boyfriends is way too many."

He cracks one eye open from his extremely devout and holy pose. You have a funny look on your face, like you're about to spit out something unpleasant tasting. He hopes there was nothing bad in your sandwich; he's going to kiss you later and he's almost out of gum.

"One is good, probably," you sigh, putting one hand over your face like you're extremely burdened and weighed down by Atsumu's endless and all-consuming love for you. But you also put your other hand out like a princess waiting for her fingers to be kissed. Atsumu takes it and kisses all the way up your arm, even over your sleeves. "But you're sleeping in the cage."

₊˚⊹｡ i left my keys on your bedroom floor | miya atsumu

wc: 2.4k

summary: atsumu is the clumsiest guy you've ever met; nothing ever goes to plan, especially when it comes to love. 

contains: f!reader, use of ‘misus’, mostly fluff with a bit of misunderstanding, reader wears heels, some swears, atsumu thinks he’s going to have a heart attack but it’s just him being him, atsumu is an idiot in love 

a/n: not related to the plot, but take a chance with me and fearless remind me of atsumu’s feels in this one (and paper rings will forever be an atsumu song for me)

part of how to be your lover boy (a valentine's collab by augustinewrites & seiwas)

Atsumu thinks this is the dumbest fuck-up he could have ever fucked up. 

Wood isn’t supposed to feel this cold, but his leg is freezing rested against it. 

Is this what it means to be weak in the knees?

Out of all places, of all times, Miya Atsumu finds himself knelt down on one knee by your bedside, legs feeling like jello at his attempt to look under your bed for his apartment keys. 

This wouldn’t be a problem at all, really; he kneels down all the time—for lunges during training (the bane of his existence if you ask him), for helping his Ma plant those herbs he’s sure she does for Osamu (he hates how the soil sticks to his skin), and for buckling the straps on your heels even, when you need him to (he doesn’t like it, only because he prefers you much more comfortable in softer shoes, unchafed ankles and all). 

So, kneeling isn’t really that big of a deal for Atsumu—

—but you’re there, standing by the bathroom door, staring at him with overwhelming surprise, evidently anticipating something serious enough to bring tears to your eyes. 

This is wrong. It isn’t at all what you’re thinking—he was just looking for his keys. 

Rejection redemption - Miya Atsumu

You walked into the club for the so-called Halloween party that your friend had begged you to go to.

The music was so loud you couldn’t even hear what she was saying all the way from the entrance to the table where your group was sitting.

The smell of marijuana was stronger than the smell of liquor, which wasn’t surprising since the hosts were none other than the popular basketball team players, famous for doing all kinds of drugs, but also for throwing the best parties.

It wasn’t like you liked the basketball players, but you definitely preferred them over the volleyball players, at least for the last few weeks.

Because, due to your not-so-smart decision to confess to your friend of many years, Miya Atsumu, you were rejected and didn’t dare show your face to them anymore.

It wasn’t like you were ashamed, he was lucky to even be one of your options.

But you felt like crap after how it all happened.

“What?” he said as soon as your sentence left your mouth.

“I just had to say something. It felt like absolute horror keeping that to myself,” you blurted out.

“But why?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowing as he scratched the back of his neck, looking down at you.

You shrugged, only to be met with an almost conflicted chuckle.

“What else do you want me to say? I like you, that’s it,” you continued, crossing your arms over your chest.

“But you like like me,” he said, except now it sounded more hurtful—the way he said it, with no concern for you.

“Is it so damn hard to see me as a person of interest? Am I that bad of a person for you not to even think of me romantically?” you asked, your voice turning desperate.

His face turned shocked as he watched your eyes fill with tears.

“You don’t have to say anything. Nothing has to change.” You hung your head low.

“You just don’t have to be a dick about it,” you finally said before turning around.

“I’m sorry,” he finally spoke.

You felt a mix of relief and hurt in a way you couldn’t explain.

You finally told him, but he didn’t reciprocate those feelings—the feelings that made your head hurt when you heard his laughter, when you watched him play volleyball, when he helped you when you got hurt, when you went to prom together after your date didn’t show.

You understood that this might happen, but you had hoped he felt at least a little of what you felt for him.

“I’ll see you later,” you ended the rejection quickly before running away to your next class before he could finish his sentence.

And that was how you ended up not showing up to any of the school’s volleyball matches for the last few weeks.

You didn’t even stay long after classes, scared that he’d try to talk to you.

Because in truth, you were scared—scared of ruining your friendship or hopeful relationship.

But you were also scared of being humiliated again.

So today you finally had the guts to leave the house to do something your friend convinced you would be fun.

You decided to dress up as a vampire, a not-so-difficult outfit.

When you finally got to your group, they greeted you excitedly, happy that you finally joined a hangout after all the ones you canceled over the last few weeks.

To get your mind off things, your friend dragged you onto the dance floor.

You almost stumbled into every drunk person on your way while your eyes wandered everywhere but in front of you.

Your head suddenly crashed into something tall and firm.

Looking up, you saw Atsumu’s twin, Osamu, playfully glaring down at you.

You looked for your friend, who had suddenly disappeared from your sight.

“What do we have here?” he said, raising your chin with his thumb.

He scanned your face before ruffling your hair.

“Vampire, huh?” he chuckled, earning a small smile from you.

“What about you?” you asked, looking him up and down, which was hard as the lights flickered green.

“Batman, to match with my brother.”

Your eyes widened at his response.

You quickly looked around as you realized Atsumu was somewhere in the club.

Osamu shook his head at your reaction.

“Still haven’t made up?” he teased, pinching your cheek.

Slapping his hand away, you quickly turned around to walk back to your friend.

“I’ll see you later, Osu,” you yelled as you walked away from his smirking expression.

When you finally found your friend, you saw her dancing closely with some stranger, half-drunk and half-sober.

On the way over, she had talked about you both needing to loosen up around other guys, so you guessed she was doing that on your behalf.

You sighed as you looked at her being all busy without you.

When you turned to walk over to the bar, your eyes landed on another pair you found painfully familiar.

The same brown eyes you used to stare at across the classroom.

There he was, dressed as the Joker, leaning against the wall with a blunt between his fingers. Atsumu.

His eyes locked with yours in a haze.

You quickly looked away as your heartbeat quickened and heat rose to your face.

You gathered yourself and tried to walk away just as you saw him start walking toward you, when you bumped into another person.

This one smelled so strongly of alcohol that you felt dizzy.

You didn’t even look up before his hands were all over you, snaking around your waist.

You tried to get out of the man’s grip, your eyes still searching for Atsumu.

When a hand neared your chest, you quickly yelled louder.

“Don’t touch me!” your voice drowned in the loud music.

Not even a second later, a punch landed across the man’s face, sending him flying to the floor.

Your eyes widened as you looked up to see Atsumu with rage in his eyes.

He practically jumped on top of the man, throwing a few more punches before his friends pulled him away.

When they finally calmed him down, his entire focus turned to you.

He quickly walked over, his bloody knuckles cupping your face.

“Are you hurt?” he asked urgently.

Your eyes widened again as your hands met his.

When he finally realized what he was doing, he quickly pulled away.

Seeing his reaction felt like a knife to your already aching heart.

You turned on your heel and walked away, disappearing into the crowd.

You walked into the bathroom, stopping in front of the mirror.

You looked at your face, tear-stained and your makeup ruined.

You shook your head before wiping away some of the smudged makeup.

You felt even worse than before you came to the club.

You had done your makeup in case he was there, you always did.

Now everything felt like a waste after how he reacted when he touched you.

You tried to wipe away more makeup as tears kept streaming down your cheeks.

When you finally calmed down, you walked out, not bothering to look up as you headed for the exit.

You quickly texted your friend that you were leaving before stepping out into the freezing cold of late October.

To your side, you saw Atsumu sitting in a squat.

His Joker makeup was messy, his tie loosened, and many of his shirt buttons undone, his chest bare to the freezing air as he stared into nothing.

You finally built up the courage to walk up to him.

He didn’t look up until your shadow fell over him.

His lips were pressed into a straight line, his eyes tired.

“What happened to you?” you asked quietly, looking down at him.

“You,” he said, suddenly grabbing your hand, pulling you down, and pressing his lips to yours.

Your head spun as you let him kiss you without pulling away.

Was he drunk or something?

It wasn’t like you didn’t enjoy it or kiss back, but you had your doubts.

When you finally pulled away, you saw tears in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he began. “I can’t hide it anymore. I love you. I’ve been trying to see you, to talk to you these past weeks.”

“I was a fool for not taking your confession the right way. I was a jerk, I am a jerk. But please don’t stay away from me. I can’t live without you. I can’t breathe without you.”

With every word, your eyes teared up more.

“Every match, every class, every second without you was torture. I miss you—your laugh, the stupid noises you make, how you snore when you fall asleep in class. I miss everything about you,” he blurted out.

He stood up, pulling you into his chest while stroking your hair.

“I love you, not just like you. I’m sorry for being a stupid idiot and not telling you sooner. Please forgive me,” he sobbed into your neck.

The smell of smoke hit your nose as you gently pushed him back to give yourself space.

“I hope you’re serious,” you chuckled through your tears.

He nodded through his own tears before leaning in to give you another passionate kiss.

A/n: ive been really busy with work and stuff so imma try to post those that i have a lot of sudden motivation to make. (suna fic coming soon)

Also..its my Birthday yay #19

atsumu miya x f!reader

In which Osamu asks his brother to keep you company while you're closing the shop alone one night. And it wouldn't be an issue...if Atsumu wasn't the bane of your goddamn existence ever since your stupid drunken hookup years ago.

wc: 3.7k

c: 18+, smut, enemies to lovers speed run, the complete and utter defilement of onigiri miya (sorry osamu), miscommunication, fingering, unprotected p in v, atsumu is down so bad and also he's an idiot, protective!atsumu, miya twin banter, best friend!osamu

“Absolutely not.”

Osamu pauses in the middle of counting cash at the register and glances up to follow where your narrowed gaze is focused—a head of blonde hair on its way through the front doors of Onigiri Miya.