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hi everyone! i know it’s been a while, so i have some good and bad news to share:
as you may guess, i’m no longer going to be active here on kageyeaman for a few reasons:
1. i’m not as fixated on bnha and haikyuu as i used to be. my heart has moved on to other interests, and it’s hard to write for something that doesn’t get my creativity going.
2. school :’’) i wrote a LOT during the beginning of the pandemic when i was finishing up my freshman year, but now i’m a junior and i have a lot on my plate so keeping up my expectations for this blog has not and will not happen, unfortunately.
3. i would like to start fresh with a new audience with hopefully some older people. as an almost-21 year old, it feels a little odd having younger readers interact with me. i’m starting a new blog with an age limit so hopefully i’ll be able to feel a little more at home. idk how else to say that lmao im just old
now that the bad news is over, here’s the good news!
**i’m still very much active on tumblr! you can follow me @/chupijupi if you would like. and, like i said, i’m starting fresh on a new blog. if you would like to follow me over there, please feel free to dm me and i’ll give you the username! you must be 18+ to follow. i will be checking for ages on blogs!
i won’t be deactivating this account. you’re still free to read all my past writing and interact with it. i just won’t be posting, reblogging, or keeping up with it.
thank you for allowing me to share my love for these shows over the past couple years <3 you all provided me with an escape over the pandemic and i could not be more grateful.
Your friends often ask how you get your job done, being surrounded by the tall, good-looking men that make up Japan’s volleyball team.
While, yeah, one wink from Atsumu could turn someone to soup and a rare smile from Sakusa could make someone weak in the knees, they weren’t the real distraction.
To you, at least.
No, the real problem was team Japan’s athletic trainer.
Dressed in simple black slacks and a dark polo, Iwaizumi Hajime puts these world class athletes to shame. He’s got this…air about him. Something powerful and commanding, which you suppose is necessary in training Olympians.
(Not to mention he’s got muscles so perfectly toned, they might as well have been sculpted from clay.)
You’ve known Iwaizumi for a little over a year now, your careers in sports medicine often overlapping. He goes to you when his athletes are feeling less than 100%, and you fix them. You, in turn, send healthy or recovered athletes to him so they stay that way.
You’ve corresponded frequently over email and the phone, sure, but now you’re both official staff members for team Japan’s men’s volleyball team. The athletic trainer and the physiotherapist. Now you see him at least four times a week - in person - as the Olympics steadily approach.
In fact, he’d driven you to practice today, picking you up from the clinic and walking into the gymnasium carrying both your bags of equipment.
Because Iwaizumi Hajime isn’t just hotter than a seatbelt buckle on a summer’s day, he’s also nice.
To you, at least.
While he won’t hesitate to bark at men like Ojiro or Ushijima, cut sharp glares at troublemakers like Hoshiumi or Miya, or boss around stubborn types like Kageyama or Sakusa, he’s not like that with you.
When a ball flies anywhere in your general vicinity, he’s there, swatting it away with his clipboard or catching it, whipping it back at whoever’s responsible. When you’re having trouble stuffing your equipment into your bag, he’s holding it shut so you can yank the zipper up. When your water bottle looks like it needs refilling, he’s holding up his empty one (though you swore it was at half a few seconds ago) volunteering to take yours to the fountain.
Worst of all, when it’s loud, he leans closer when you talk to him. Close enough that you can catch a whiff of his cologne, close enough that you can see the flecks of colour in his pretty eyes. He winds a strong arm around you, placing a gentle - respectful - hand on the small of your back to pull you just a little closer.
The warmth of his hand there, the proximity of his face to yours…it never fails to make your heart flutter a little in your chest.
Sure, you’ve currently got your hands all over Bokuto, smoothing kt tape over his thick traps, but you can’t help when your eyes wander to where Iwaizumi is seated, absorbed in the notes on his clipboard.
He just looks so good, the muscles in his arms flexing slightly whenever he moves his pen across the paper, lips pressed into a tight line. He only does that when he’s contemplating something, and you make a note to ask him about it after—
“Why’re you always starin’ at our trainer like that?” Bokuto questions, looking over his shoulder at you. Your face heats up slightly at being called out— you really hadn’t thought you were that obvious. “Do you…like him or something?”
Your hands fall from the athlete’s shoulders as he turns his entire body to look at you now. He doesn’t look or sound like he’s teasing, seeming genuinely curious with his question.
Atsumu, seeming to smell gossip, saunters over with a lopsided grin on his face. “We talkin’ about your obvious crush on Biceps over there?”
“I do not have a crush, Miya,” you lie, absolutely not staring at Iwaizumi’s biceps or admiring the way they strain slightly against his shirt sleeves. “We’re friends. Hajime is my friend.”
Atsumu’s brows raise up behind his bangs as you hand Bokuto his shirt. “Oh, so he’s Hajime, but the two of you are ‘just friends?’”
“Why did you put that in air quotes? It’s true!”
“You still call me Miya, but you’ve touched me more places than any other woman ever! Are you saying Hajime’s touched you in even more places?”
“No! O-of course not!” You sputter, shaking your head. “I don’t like him like that. He’s just too—” You gesture vaguely towards your friend, a frustrated noise slipping past your lips. He’s the definition of tall, dark, and handsome, but like hell you’re going to say that to Miya.
“Too what?” Atsumu prods, grinning widely.
“Too— too tall,” you reason stupidly.
Bokuto just pats your shoulder sympathetically as Atsumu throws his head back, laughing much too loudly. “Too tall? Well, everyone’s the same height in bed.”
“Stop!” You groan, hiding your face behind your hands.
“Miya! Bokuto!” Iwaizumi snaps, a grimace marring those pretty lips of his. “Get your asses over here, water break is over.”
Bokuto and Atsumu exchange a look that says ‘yikes,’ the latter muttering, “Maybe if he gets laid, he’ll go a little easier on us.”
Atsumu flashes you a grin, and you swear your heart stops beating. “Don’t say anything. Atsumu.” You try to plead, but the setter’s already walking away, shooting you a thumbs up. “Atsumu!”
You have the overwhelming urge to melt into the floor. If you weren’t getting paid to take care of them—
You’re forced to look on in horror as Atsumu grips his trainer on the shoulder. You can’t hear what they’re saying, but your stomach drops when he nods his head back towards you.
You pretend to busy yourself, picking up whatever’s closest to you and gagging when it happens to be Bokuto’s forgotten knee pads.
When you look up again, eyes a little watery, your eyes meet Iwaizumi’s.
Hajime’s.
Your hot, very nice friend Hajime. Who carries your bags and smells like expensive cologne. Whose face seems stuck in a permanent grimace, though it always softens into a smile when he picks you up in the afternoon for practice.
Your hot, very nice friend Hajime who smirks a little as Atsumu walks away. Who keeps eye contact with you as he lifts the hem of his shirt to swipe at the sweat on his bottom lip, granting you a peek at the defined ridges of his abs—
Your very hot, very nice friend Hajime who is walking over to you now, holy shit.
“Hey.”
You toss the kneepads away, swiping your hands across your pants and trying your best to fix your hair. “Hi.”
He shifts his weight a little, gaze flickering over your face. Your brows, the slope of your nose, your lips, as if he’s studying you. “You free later today?”
You blink a few times. “I—”
“Great, I’ll pick you up at seven. For dinner.”
You nod and relax a little (barely). Dinner is okay. Dinner is easy. You’ve had dinner with your very hot, very nice friend Hajime before. Maybe you’ll stop by a few street vendors or grab some indulgent fast food.
He nods once, gently touching your arm. “So it’s a date. Wear something nice.”
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There’s nothing like uninterrupted sleep when a) your toddler finally becomes old enough to sleep in her own room; b) when your son can now take care of his sister whenever she wakes up crying from a nightmare or two; and c) when your partner–
“Angel, wake up.”
–when your partner is at last high up enough on the snakes and ladders of the corporate race that his alarm no longer blares at –
“C’mon, baby. Wake up.”
–at ungodly hours in the morning, waking you up as well.
“I said wake up!”
“Go away, Tetsu,” you groan into the comforter, which he pulls away — as carefully as he can — from you as well.
But he might as well have ripped it off with the blast of cold air that hits your skin.
You glare at him.
Kuroo offers a quick peck to your forehead in return. “C’mon. Get up, love.”
“Why?” Voice hoarse, glare drowsy, your glower comes out more of a whine rather than the accusation you would’ve liked.
“Cute.”
With an amused smile, he takes your sluggish hand and carefully pulls you up. Your house cardigan and fuzzy slippers are already laid out like they always are in the mornings.
You blink up blearily at him. Kuroo gives you yet another short kiss, to the cheek this time, coaxing you to fully wake up.
Hand on your back and chest looking so welcoming and warm and if you could just lean forward a little, right into the soft cashmere of his matching cardigan then sleep will come right—
He pulls you back.
“Nuh uh, angel,” he chuckles lowly, hand smoothing over your shoulders. “None of that.”
“Jeez, Tetsu.” With a deliberately audible huff, you turn to the digital clock by his side of the bed. Another groan gurgles out of you as you throw your head back with a frustrated pout. “What the hell. It’s barely six in the morning! On a fucking Sunday!”
sometimes, atsumu finds himself regretting not going to college.
it's only for small, short periods of time though. nothing much to mull over if he's really talking about it, but sometimes, moreso, in this case, right now, he finds himself a little more immersed in the thought than usual.
the decision to not go to college is completely his, no one forced him into it. it's all completely on him.
"and the professor just kept going on and on about how this was such a missed opportunity for a better tagline, and i wanted to say that i agree with him, but sir, your pants are falling down."
it’s a thursday morning, and usually he’d find himself very busy at the gym working on some of the reps his coaches told him to brush up on, but it’s his free day today, and what better way to spend that than visit you at your college?
your arm’s linked with him in a casual manner, like it’s something the two of you have done for forever, and he stops walking only when you stop walking.
"are you listening?" you pause your story to ask, the cup of coffee in your hand easily matching the one in his own.
"hm?" atsumu smiles as he looks at you, "no."
you nudge his side, "i resent that. i'm a very good story-teller."
a second passes in the air.
walking around campus like this, enjoying your free time with each other, it’s just something that you’ve been wishing for a lot lately.
it always feels like you’ve been missing each other so much, and now that he’s finally here, with you, it still feels like something is plotting to happen.
"hey," you stop walking, looking at him briefly as you do, "you still didn't tell me why you're here."
you love his unannounced visits, you love him waiting outside your classroom because he just happens to know your schedule, with your favorite coffee in his hand as he tells you how he wanted to surprise you.
atsumu looks at you, "i wanted to visit."
and you raise a brow, teasing, "because we already don't see each other at all at our house that we share and go home to everyday?"
"yes, exactly." he rolls his eyes, his grin playing free on his lips, "plus my mom called cause she knew i had a free day today and i needed a valid reason to not tell her that samu and i are in a fight."
( osamu asked atsumu to housesit for him the other day and apparently, atsumu never agreed to it, but osamu was under the impression that he was.
long story short; osamu came home to a very messy house and his plants on the brink of dehydration.
they’ve been ignoring each other for days, but osamu still sends you onigiri every sunday with a note “if you share even a bite with tsumu, i’ll know and the onigiri will stop coming.”)
"so instead of telling your mom you can't go to samu's today because the two of you are still in a childish fight that could really easily be resolved by someone saying "sorry", you chose to spend your one free day all week at my college campus."
your tone is questioning, but the laughter rising from your throat breaks your expression.
"yes." atsumu answers straight up, turning to you briefly with a teasing grin, "and i love hearing you talk about your professor and his weird pants."
of course, he was listening.
"hey, miya!"
the reply you had dies in your throat as you’re both interrupted.
your head turning slightly upwards to see who it is that called, and you only really half recognize the girl who approached you two as one of your classmates.
"hey." you give her a polite smile.
and there’s a way atsumu wants to kick his feet at the thought of you being so accustomed to his name.
"i sit behind you in modern literature," the girl smiles nervously as she looks at you, "and i was wondering if i could borrow your notes on it from last week?"
you nod, your eyes crinkling as you reply, "yeah, for sure."
and without even you having to ask, atsumu hands you your backpack, standing in the sidelines as lets you look for those notes.
your classmate takes a good look at the two of you, between the matching cups of coffee in your hands and the fact that he was just holding your things just now, it’s not hard to realize that the two of you may be … involved.
"who’s this?" she asks you, pointing slightly at atsumu as she tries her best to stay polite.
"my hu–"
"boyfriend." atsumu answers, ignoring you as you look at him with narrowing eyes.
what is he up to?
"oh, sorry, did i interrupt you guys?" she asks, her expression falling even further.
"you're fine." atsumu smiles, "we were just walking around."
"i don't think i know you," she tells him, the politeness in her voice evident, "do you go here too?"
"oh, he –"
"yeah!" atsumu cuts you off, his words laced with laughter, "i sit at the very back of the class so that's probably why we don’t know each other."
that wasn’t the response you were expecting him to give.
your classmate looks at him, "oh, you share modern literature with us?"
you finally look up, your smile conniving, "he does."
and atsumu’s eyes crinkle even further as he nods, "i do."
you hand her the notes you’ve finally gotten out of your bag, one that she’s more than happy to take with a vigorous amount of "thank you"s.
"i'm sorry, i feel like such a jerk right now for not knowing your name." she looks at atsumu, eyebrows quirking together as apologizes.
oh, this poor girl.
"miya." he tells her, proudly smiling as he does so, "it’s miya atsumu."
"you’re both miya? are you guys related?" she asks, and she kind of feels weird asking that seeing as just a few seconds ago she was absolutely sure that the two of you were dating.
you blink, and you look at atsumu to answer for the both of you.
"no." atsumu answers, and for a second he shoots you an assuring look, "it's uh... just a coincidence."
"yeah," you nod, trying your best not to laugh, "it’s weird, people tease us about it all the time."
atsumu adds, "it’s actually like we’re already married."
and you elbow him lightly in the side as you try not to laugh.
"well hey, since you're in modern literature too then, can i get your notes on it as well?" she asks atsumu, and you’re grateful that she doesn’t say anything about how weird the two of you are being right now.
she shrugs, "i need all the help i can get."
you slightly tilt your head to look at atsumu, biting in your inner cheek to anticipate how he talks himself out of this one.
he doesn't spare a second to give you a reassuring glance, instead, he shakes his head apologizingly, his hand immediately touching the back of his neck as he laughs.
atsumu's smile stays polite, "i would, but i was completely thrown off the entire lesson, i forgot to take my own notes."
you raise a brow.
"i was so distracted the entire class — which is a shame cause it's usually so good, — but when our professor started talking about taglines and how they could be so much better, i wanted to agree with him so bad, but," and he trails off in suspense, a teasing glint in his eye as he looks at your classmate.
atsumu is way too good at this.
thankfully, she gets what he's trying to say, a rise of laughter coming up into her expression as she nods vigorously, "you noticed that too, huh!"
"it was so embarrassing," she shakes her head, "i didn't know where to look."
and atsumu nods slowly, "me too. he needs to get pants that fit him."
she eventually thanks the both of you, apologizing once again for interrupting your walk, and telling you, extremely teasingly that “you two look good together.”
and she’s off.
she runs back to her group of friends with your notes in her hands, and you think about what kind of explanation to give her the next time you share modern literature and your so-called “boyfriend” isn’t there to share it with you.
you and atsumu are back to walking around.
"you stole my professor + pants anecdote." you scoff, your arm linking with him out of instinct.
"i told the story better than you did." atsumu says, his tone convinced.
"now, you're openly lying to me?" you scoff harder, staring him down with narrowing eyes, "you’re a thief and a liar."
the bell rings and everyone around the two of you rushes to their respective classrooms, walking and jogging as their break’s finally came to an end.
some people look annoyed, others not so much, but if atsumu noticed one thing everytime he came to visit you, it’s that everyone — everyone in the campus — has always had an agenda they had to keep up with.
"college is fun." he tells you, smiling as he notices that the more the two of you walk the less people there is around.
you look at him, "yeah, you totally blend in here."
"i do?" he asks you, a smile lacing his tone.
you shrug, "well, you are here all the time."
"i’m not," atsumu scoffs, and he laughs, "i’m here … maybe half the time."
your arm falls from his as the two of you stop linking it together, this time his hand holding onto yours tightly as you let it sway in between the both of you.
"that’s okay," you smile, "i like you here."
"you just want someone to carry your books for ya." atsumu rolls his eyes, and you laugh, because he’s never let you carry your own books ever.
not even back in high school. if miya atsumu was around, everywhere you went, no matter if his arms were already full, you were not carrying your own things.
"don’t think i don’t see how people turn their heads to look at you when you’re here." you nudge his side, sighing dramatically as you fake a frown, "i hate being married to someone hot."
"excuse me?" atsumu practically scoffs as he looks at you, his eyes crinkling as he tease, "and you think i don’t notice all the people who turn their heads to look at you when you visit me?"
the edges of your lip tug upwards, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction.
atsumu stares you down, his toothy grin wide and giddy as he tells you, "i hate being married to someone hot."
"stealing my lines too now, huh, miya?" you roll your eyes, pushing past him to avoid him having to see the relenting smile on your face.
but that doesn’t really work either because he always easily catches up to you anyway.
he’s laughing, "well - miya - what the hell happened to all that ‘what’s mine is yours’ stuff you said in your vows?"
you walk faster.
atsumu takes your hand before you can fully leave him in the dust, laughing as he does so, he watches as you don’t resist into his touch.
he regrets not going to college. but he knows that if he did, he wouldn’t be where he is right now, and he’s pretty sure that he would regret that more.
there’s no one around, and he can’t say how many times he’s thanked the deities for that.
"miya." he says, and it feels weird, because it’s his name but he’s talking to you.
your eyes crinkle lightly as you smile, greatly appreciating his arms right now.
"i have a boyfriend, he’s in class right now so i don’t think he’ll appreciate us being this close." you smile, and atsumu laughs.
he shrugs, "i heard he steals your pants + professor anecdotes."
"yes," you try not to smile so much, "and he’s also always late, has the messiest hand-writing, and falls asleep on top of me."
"okay, now you’re just listing all my amazing quirks."
"you can’t keep falling asleep on top of me, tsumu, my back is so sore."
"i don’t recall ever sleeping on top of you therefore it must not be real."
the apparent november air, the cups of coffee on the ground that you’re both probably gonna end up forgetting — it’s all a bit cheesy.
but as much as atsumu regrets not following through with the whole college deal, he knows he won’t regret it as much as not having had married you.
your face is close to his, "my boyfriend–"
"he sounds amazing, i know." atsumu grins, but his nose touches yours anyways.
there’s no one around.
and so he kisses you.
he kisses you many times, a lot in the interval of one deep kiss, pulling away every time his lips touches yours to tease and peck and have you laughing.
but when he pulls back for the last time, and he just stares at you to stare at you, he kisses you with a lazy smile on his face, but kisses you as deep as he can.
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Thank you for reblogging and writing such cute (and begrudgingly angsty) fics bc it’s helping me romanticize life and setting the bar higher for my romantic standards lmao
in which bakugo gets into a fight, marring his squeaky clean student record.
childhoodfriend!bakugo x f!reader. 4.8k+ quirkless!au. cw: mentions of a fight, blood, and slight injuries. a part of this universe(..? timeline?). takes place before he leaves for college. not proofread, might go back to edit this when im not half dead
bakugo—as unexpected as it is of him, especially at first glance—is a good student. he has great grades, a considerable number of extracurriculars he maintains well, and (to everyone’s surprise) no major disciplinary actions listed. his student record is as clean as can be, and he’s managed to keep it up until his last year of high school.
well, up until the second term of his senior year, at least.
because on one nice october morning, he managed to ruin the spotless record he has cultivated throughout the years in a matter of a few minutes.
you had just gotten back from the teachers’ lounge, handing out papers from a thick stack in your hand, courtesy of yamada-sensei forgetting to hand out your class’ exam papers yesterday. with your luck, you happened to walk past him on your way to your classroom this morning, and seeing your face must’ve jogged his memory.
“hey, you!” anzu calls, beckoning you over like you aren’t already walking towards her to hand her the exam paper. “have you heard about— oh, man! i thought i did good!”
“i told you to read some chapters on the book, too, not just rely on the study guide.” you flick her forehead lightly. “heard about what?”
she throws you a dirty look, rubbing the spot you just flicked. “there was a fight earlier down the hall, guess who’s involved?” her eyes shine in excitement, grinning up at you.
atsumu miya is notoriously bad at keeping secrets.
if you ask anyone he knows - and i mean, anyone at all - they'd all be able to tell you the exact same thing: never ever trust atsumu miya with a secret, because chances are he won't be able to keep any of them.
"okay, it is so not fair that osamu knows, but i don't."
atsumu groans, his gloved hands stuffed tightly in his coat pockets, and he curses once again that he didn't anticipate the snow coming down onto the city tonight.
it's ten in the evening, you've just clocked out for the day, and even despite your numerous insistence that you'd be fine walking home alone, atsumu happily strides beside you anyways.
"samu can keep a secret," you remind him, and your shoulders rise as you laugh, "you can't."
"wrong." atsumu scoffs, shaking his head disapprovingly, "i can keep a secret. i just purposefully tell everyone what it is because it's part of my natural charm."
you narrow your eyes, giving him an unconvinced look as you try to stifle a laugh.
"it's part of your natural charm to literally never be able to hide anything from anyone ever?" you repeat, your intonation asking him if that's really the excuse he'd want to go with.
"yes." he nods confidently, "it is part of my natural charm."
so you grin, wide, with childish stars in your eyes, "which adds reason to why i shouldn't tell you my secret!"
"wait," he blinks, realizing what you've just said, and he stops walking for a second, "no, of course you should tell me the secret - you duped me into saying that!"
you cross your arms over your chest, "they were your words."
and you overtake him, walking past where he stopped, and you turn on your heels slightly, turning to look back at him with the same smug grin on your face.
"you're horrible." he tells you, shaking his head as you only look back at him with that same expression.
you take your free hand out of your coat pocket, the smile on your face pursed slightly as you hold your hand out to him, and before you know it, atsumu's back on your side, your hand in his own as he easily takes yours, and just by the way he's holding on to it — you have a strong feeling he has no plans on letting it go.
"i'm not telling you my secret tsumu." you smile, starting to walk with him again, your hands swaying in the middle of the both of you.
and his eyes narrow, "did you do something bad?"
and you think - maybe - but you're not sure if you want to tell him that yet.
"no." you answer.
"are we planning a murder? a nuclear attack?" he presses, the same grin on his face lacing into his voice, "i will get on board with it, i swear."
and the hold he has on your hand feels so much tighter.
"but you have to tell me what it is." atsumu shrugs, the way he's looking at you overwhelmingly soft.
"it's not that." you shake your head as you laugh, "but i admire your loyalty though, i'll definitely call you when that happens."
"well, why won't you tell me?" he asks you again, looking at you this time, and he stays this way long enough for you to actually notice that he is, in fact, looking at you.
he narrows his eyes, "and i know it's not because of that "i can't keep a secret" excuse, cause we both know that's not why you aren't telling me."
( leave it to atsumu miya to know exactly what to say or do to back you into a corner. )
you look at him, laughing, "why does it matter so much?"
and this is what gets him to look back onto the road, completely acting like he never was looking at you in the first place.
"i like..." and he pauses mid-sentence, "i like knowing things."
( he was going to add "about you" to the ending of that sentence, but he decides against it - it isn't the right time for that. )
you stop walking.
straightening out your jacket and making sure your bag is still with you, you look up to see atsumu who's walked a few steps ahead of you already, looking back with half-turned heels in anticipation.
"what're you doing?" he smiles, eyebrow raising.
"this is my stop." you say, your voice not as loud as you want it to be, and you reluctantly point to the building beside you, "i live here, remember?"
and atsumu's smile drops, "oh."
he's been walking you for a few weeks now, even driving you home when he has the chance, so he feels pretty stupid right now for forgetting to stop when you did.
"oh, yeah." he lets out a chuckle, his hand making it's way to the back of his neck in embarrassment, "i think i forgot about that."
and you smile, telling him it's okay, and there's nothing more in the world that he could want except for you asking him to stay.
he looks to the ground, "so i guess i should go."
"you know, you really didn't have to walk me home." you tell him, smile still as unsure as ever, and you tell him this every chance you get.
and he says, the way he always does, with that same smug and lazy grin, "i know - i wanted to."
( and that makes you smile, because atsumu always makes you smile. )
he takes a step away, getting ready to leave, but before he does, he tells you, subtly pointing to your front door, "you should get inside."
and you smile, "yeah."
"bye." he tells you, the smile on his face smaller this time, but the crinkle in his eyes doesn't leave.
and you repeat, laughing slightly, "bye."
and that would've been the end of it - atsumu walking home under the snow, and you walking up the steps of your building to get inside your home.
he would've went home not knowing your secret, and well, for a short second, atsumu really did think that he was okay with that.
but he's not.
"no," atsumu says, more to himself than to anyone else, and he turns, running back to the foot of your building and he yells, "wait, hey!"
( of all the stupid things he could do tonight, stopping you as you're mid-way into coming home would probably be the worst of them. )
but you turn to look at him anyway, the smile on your face easily reaching your eyes, and atsumu likes to think it's because you wanted him to come back and call to you.
"atsumu?" you ask.
and maybe it's the snow or maybe it's you saying his name like that, but he really really wishes that for once — even if it's just for tonight — things would go his way.
"how about this - i tell you a secret, something no one knows," he's breathless, but he looks at you anyway with a nervous smile, "and you tell me yours."
because believe it or not, atsumu miya, most notorious for never being able to keep anything quiet, has been hiding something extremely important to him for a very long time now.
so you say, "okay."
and atsumu smiles.
the edges of his eyes crinkle upwards as he hears you say that, and for the first time tonight, he's got a strong feeling that the universe is finally on his side.
your keys are in your hand, dangling lightly as you take the short three steps down from your building and coming back onto the pavement where atsumu waits.
he stands awkwardly, the smile on his face almost as nervous as you paint it out to be, and when you finally stand in front of him, it only appears to get a tiny bit wider.
you tilt your head, "tell me a secret."
and atsumu nods, an expression on his face that you've only seen a handful of times, but before you could ask him about it, he's already taken a step forward, his hands on either side of your face—
and he kisses you.
atsumu miya has always wanted to kiss you, not that he ever planned to do anything about it, he just — for as long as he's known you — wanted to know what it would be like to kiss the person he's been in love with for the past two years.
so he steps back, pulling away from you first, feeling not so different from the man he was two minutes before all this, but now, he’s someone who doesn’t have to wonder what it’s like to kiss you anymore.
"i've always wanted to do that." his smile taints his voice.
it's snowing — it's ten in the evening and the snow just keeps on falling.
the cold is almost unbearable, and even beneath all those layers of clothes, you still can't deny the slight chill coming on your spine.
atsumu's face is red - his ears, nose, and cheeks covered in a pinkish glow, and this time, he's sure that it's not just from the cold.
“i told you i can keep a secret.”
he smiles, breathing out a puff of white air, and the hand he has on your face still hasn't let you go.
for as long as he can remember, atsumu has always, always, wanted to kiss you the way he's dreamed of, and now - now that's actually done it - he decides that he's done with secrets.
whatever this is, whatever he feels for you, it isn't a secret anymore, because this time, he decides that he's finally gonna do something about it.
his smile is unwavering, watching you as you stand in from of him, and his eyes are expecting of what you're going to say next.
"atsumu," you blink, "i'm transferring out of the msby jackals."
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as y’all have probably noticed (or not noticed jdsflk), i have not been super active on this blog !! there’s a few reasons for that, like school, burnout, lack of inspiration, <3 terrible mental health <3, etc.
so as u may guess, i’m gonna be on a bit of a semi-hiatus. basically continuing what i’ve been doing, but giving it a name. i’ll reblog stuff i like, maybe give updates here and there, and if i think of something to write i’ll try and get it out. business as usual. just uh. giving it a name so i don’t feel as bad about never posting lol
but !! i am still very active - i reblog a lot to my main blog and i occasionally post stuff to my art blog ! i am most certainly not leaving for good. u cannot get rid of me >:)
all that being said, thank you very much for your patience. my ask box is still open if u wanna chat.
as y’all have probably noticed (or not noticed jdsflk), i have not been super active on this blog !! there’s a few reasons for that, like school, burnout, lack of inspiration, <3 terrible mental health <3, etc.
so as u may guess, i’m gonna be on a bit of a semi-hiatus. basically continuing what i’ve been doing, but giving it a name. i’ll reblog stuff i like, maybe give updates here and there, and if i think of something to write i’ll try and get it out. business as usual. just uh. giving it a name so i don’t feel as bad about never posting lol
but !! i am still very active - i reblog a lot to my main blog and i occasionally post stuff to my art blog ! i am most certainly not leaving for good. u cannot get rid of me >:)
all that being said, thank you very much for your patience. my ask box is still open if u wanna chat.
