timeskip!sakusa x f!reader, fluff, slightly suggestive (morning after) but nothing specific/explicit at all
sakusa kiyoomi, msby's #15 and now olympian, cannot believe his fall from grace. the olympics ended just a few days ago, they threw a huge celebration last night (which he honestly really enjoyed), and by some twist of fate—he's here.
he paces around the living room of his hotel suite for half an hour before finally deciding what he needs to do. he never thought he would resort to this, but he figures that desperate times call for desperate measures.
to his surprise, miya atsumu answers the facetime call after just a few rings.
"omiomi!" atsumu greets, "you seemed to have a lot of fun last—"
"i'm about to ask for your advice and if you speak a word of this to anyone, i will end you." kiyoomi says sternly.
"woah, woah, relax man," atsumu says, putting his free hand up in surrender, "what's up?"
no backing out now, kiyoomi thinks.
"so... the party last night..."
"the party, indeed," atsumu smirks, "is this about a certain someone i saw you leave with last night?"
"yes, we slept together." kiyoomi says as calmly as possible, hoping to manage his friend's reaction (even though kiyoomi himself is freaking out internally).
"let's go!" atsumu fist pumps, "hell yeah, man, congratulations! it's about time! you've been crushing on her for forever; i was so close to just locking you two in a room myself—"
"that's not the point," kiyoomi groans.
don't get him wrong, it was definitely the best night of his life, but how does he explain to atsumu that he didn't want things to go like this? he had a whole timeline in his head—take you out on a few dates, kiss you in front of your apartment door, get you flowers and treats from your favorite bakery, go on a couple more dates, and then get into bed together (maybe on the same day that he properly asks you to be his girlfriend). he didn't want things to start with a drunken hookup.
"kiyoomi, hey, you still there?" atsumu says a lot gentler this time, seeing the worry on his friend's usually stoic face.
"i don't want a one-night stand, but i have no idea what she wants. and i'm... scared that that's what she wants."
atsumu has never heard kiyoomi admit his worries like this, not even when they were first recruited for the olympics and the excitement started transforming into nervousness. he knew that you mattered a lot to kiyoomi, and this just solidifies that.
"i mean, it doesn't have to be a one-night stand. you can just talk when she wakes up."
"that's true, but i—" kiyoomi hesitates. going to atsumu for advice was embarrassing enough, but admitting this next part is even worse. he's finally got the blonde to a more serious spot, and he knows his next admission will just bring back the teasing.
"hey, you're kind of starting to scare me," atsumu sighs, "please just spit it out."
kiyoomi says nothing. instead, he braces himself for what's to come.
kiyoomi turns the phone camera and atsumu sees to the hotel's dining room table overflowing with every single breakfast item on the room service menu. in addition to all that, there are even desserts and several cups of juice and coffee.
there's a beat of silence.
and then suddenly, atsumu is practically dying of laughter, "what the fuck, omiomi? what did you do?"
kiyoomi faces the phone back to him, his face a lot redder than a few minutes ago, "i panicked, okay? i figured—you don't have breakfast with your hookups, right?"
"this is breakfast for at least 10 people!"
"i wanted to make sure i got something she liked!"
"don't you already know what she likes?"
"well, i was worried she might be in the mood for something else!" he groans, rubbing his hand across his face. he moves the phone a bit so atsumu can't see how much he's stressing about this.
"she's going to think it's stupid. i just like her so much and i panicked and i just hope she had a good time last night and i feel like she won't take me seriously with this fucking spread but it's not like i can get rid of it and i have no idea if she'll even want to go out with me now and i—"
"just ask her," atsumu says.
"miya, she's asleep and—"
"did you have a good time last night?" atsumu practically shouts, somehow looking past kiyoomi through the phone screen.
"what—"
"a great time, actually," you say.
kiyoomi turns, seeing you leaning against the bedroom door behind him.
"but, i don't kiss and tell, so you should go back to bed," you make your way to kiyoomi, gently placing a hand on his arm, "'cause it looks like this guy and i have a lot to talk about."
atsumu gives a quick goodbye, winking at kiyoomi before hanging up. kiyoomi sets his phone down and turns to completely face you. your hair's still a little messy, you're wearing his shirt—oh wow, you look good in his shirt—and kiyoomi nearly forgets the situation he's in. before he can begin explaining himself, you speak up.
"yes, i've been up for a while. yes, i heard most of that conversation—i think atsumu forgets how loud he is—and," you move closer, wrapping your arms around his neck while his hands find your waist, "yes, i would love to go out with you."
when your words finally register, he feels a stupid grin spread across his face.
"yeah?"
"yeah," you smile up at him, "it's not every day that i get to wake up to a breakfast buffet."
you laugh at the way his cheeks turn pink before he buries his face in the crook of your neck, "did i at least get something you like?"
"well, i like you."
"not what i meant... but i like you, too." he says softly.
"so i've heard," you gently nudge him back so you can look at his face properly, "i believe you like me so much?" you grin.
he groans, "you're never going to let me forget this, huh?"
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content: established relationship, fluff. word count: 0,6k.
It started on your third date.
You were at a cozy little ramen shop tucked between two buildings downtown, the kind with foggy windows and handwritten menus. Atsumu was already halfway through his bowl, slurping loudly, while you picked daintily at yours, your pace slower, more thoughtful.
When you finally set your chopsticks down with a soft sigh, Atsumu’s head popped up like a meerkat. He glanced at your half-finished bowl, then at you.
“You done?”
“I think so…”
He didn’t hesitate—he dragged your bowl toward him, already fishing out the last noodles with the kind of joy that belonged to someone who had definitely grown up fighting for the last slice of pizza. You raised an eyebrow.
“You’re just gonna eat my leftovers like that?”
“Mhm.” He mumbled, mouth full. “Waste not, babe.”
You rolled your eyes, but the corners of your mouth twitched into a smile.
From then on, it became a quiet ritual.
At every meal—whether it was takeout sushi on the couch, late-night snacks, or lazy weekend breakfasts—Atsumu somehow knew when you were done. You never said anything. You’d just push your plate a few inches away, and seconds later, his arm would reach out, like a sleepy cat stretching toward a sunbeam.
He never asked. He just did, like it was the most natural thing in the world to finish what you couldn’t. And honestly? You loved it. It was kind of warm. Kind of comfortable. A little unspoken love language all your own.
Sometimes, you liked to leave things on purpose—half a fry, a bit of omelet, the last bite of a sandwich. Not because you couldn’t finish, but because it made you smile when he took them without hesitation. Like there was this tiny thread between you, this unspoken connection built from a thousand small, silly habits.
And now, months later, that thread had only grown stronger.
Tonight, you were curled up on the couch together, a blanket tossed over both of you, the flicker of a movie playing quietly in the background. You handed him the last bite of your ice cream cone without looking—just a silent offer passed between you two.
He took it, of course, with a soft “thanks” leaving his lips.
After he finished, he turned to you and tapped your nose gently with his finger. “Y’know, if you ever actually finish your food one day, I think I’d be heartbroken.“
You snorted, leaning into his side. “Maybe I’m just trying to slowly make you gain weight. Long-term plan.”
He gave you a flat look. “So this is a trap.”
“Obviously.”
Atsumu shook his head with a small laugh, slipping an arm around your shoulders. “Well… too late now. It’s already my favorite part of the meal.”
SYNOPSIS: Your face is set into that firm expression again, the one that makes the cutest dip between your brows. Kiyoomi just wants to kiss it away, make it all better.
WARNINGS: swearing, allusions to sex, misunderstandings, co-workers with benefits? like a teaspoon of angst. sakusa kiyoomi is so stupid oh my god hes so fucking stupid. reader is described as shorter than him so i’m sorry if ur 6’2 or taller. if u see a runoff sentence no u didn't! sakusa kiyoomi x reader. 3.2k words!
You never stay. Not that SAKUSA is keeping track.
He just wishes he knew you a little better, is all.
The shower head sputters to life above him, plastering his curls to his forehead as he racks his brain on where he went wrong.
Kiyoomi thought that last night had gone well—Great, even. He invited you over to talk over a decent home cooked meal served with candlelights and quiet song. He even made you laugh a few times, smiling at him over a glass of chilled wine with a flirty look in your eyes that made his stomach jump.
It’s rare that Kiyoomi gets to see you so comfortable. Barefaced with your hair down, lips pulled into a shy smile when they’re usually pressed in a firm, focused line. You look so soft like this, relaxed in a way that you usually aren’t during work hours. It’s like you’re a completely different person behind closed doors. A version of yourself only he gets to see.
At some point you ended up on his too-hard box sofa watching a terrible B-list horror movie—a choice Kiyoomi prepared to regret but eventually found himself enjoying.
Basic in its exposition and excessive over-the-top gore—It’s objectively an awful fucking film. Still, you were actually scared—flinching hard at every jumpscare and holding him tight during tense moments, Kiyoomi’s heart beating rabbit-quick in his chest at your touch.
You ended up in his lap before the credits rolled, arms wrapped around his shoulders and kissing him honey-slow. All the tension in the room building and building until it finally crested and he couldn’t tell the difference between where he ended and you began, mewling against his jaw in between messy kisses while he gripped your hips to drive you harder on his—
Fuck.
The memory of you leaves Kiyoomi warm, more images of you flashing through his mind before he can will them away. The dip of your waist. The elegant line of your back. The delicate crease where hip becomes thigh. The curve of your lips, stretched tight as you fit more of him into—
He grabs the shower handle and jerks it cold, the water turning icy in seconds. Recalling the rest of the night leaves him with the same awful feeling.
You had kissed his cheek goodbye, gathered your things, and skirted out the door, chattering about needing to be up early with a bubbly promise to see you tomorrow!
Kiyoomi felt like he was floating, hand brushing his cheek where you had kissed him. After months of pining, he might actually have a chance—
But then you ignored him at work the next day, and you continued to ignore him in all the days that followed.
&&&
It’s fine that you leave. It’s not like he's holding you hostage. You’re free to make your own decisions. You’re both adults, after all.
So, like an adult, Kiyoomi goes to practice and works hard. Nails every set that comes his way and aims his serves with lethal precision. He pointedly ignores the chorus of wolf whistles that start up when they’re back in the locker room, responding to overly curious questions with a smug ‘Wouldn’t you like to know’ or ‘Not very work appropriate, Miya.”
Now that had earned him a growl, “Since when do you fuck?”
“Since your mother asked me so nicely.”
“Don’t you fuckin’ talk about my—”
But Kiyoomi’s already gone, letting Atsumu’s rage fissile out of earshot as he slips out of the locker rooms and into the gymnasium, sneakers squeaking against the glossed court floor.
You’re there when he leaves, sitting on the bleachers as you type furiously on your laptop, the cutest scrunch between your brows as you focus on your task. You don’t seem to notice him, too deep into… whatever it is that you’re doing, so he clears his throat with an awkward wave.
“Hey.” He says, a little startled to see you, a little excited. A clipboard rests beside you, fixing a document in place that you’ve scribbled numbers all over, half the page covered in bouts of pink and purple highlighter. You’ve got your hair pulled up tight, face set into something pensive. “You look nice today. I like your hair.”
“Oh, hi. Thanks, Omi.” You smooth a hand over a lock of hair, twirling it around your fingers in focused circles, your expression melting into something warm, “You really think so? Trying something new.”
Ki, Kiyo, Yoomi, Yooms—You seem to be searching for every possible way to shorten his name. It always catches him off guard when you come up with a new one, taking steady breaths so his heart doesn’t beat out of his chest, lips fixed in a frown to fight down a smile.
Kiyoomi nods—perhaps a bit too stiffly—remembering the way you looked last night, sleepy and satisfied and so, so cute. He wants to kiss you back into yesterday, when you were soap-soft and giggly, falling apart again and again as he worked you through it all, melting on his tongue like ice cream on a summer afternoon—
“Is… there something I can help you with?” You say when he doesn’t reply, and oh my god he’s been staring this entire time just say something Kiyoomi say anything—
“What… are you doing out here?” Jesus fucking Christ.
“Working, if you can believe it.” You don’t seem to mind his presence, so maybe he’s not making a complete fool of himself. “The wifi in my office is shit, so I’m stuck out here until I finish this.”
“What are you working on?” He asks, craning his neck to see the source of your despair.
“Budget stuff.” You jot down a few more numbers on the sheet packed full of numbers, tilting the screen to give him a better view, “We need to order a million things before the season officially starts. This isn’t even technically in my job description.”
You tilt the screen to reveal a spreadsheet. Kiyoomi doesn’t understand much of it.
“Seems like a lot of math.”
“It is.” You hit the ‘enter’ key with perhaps too much force, “Putting my degree to use, I guess.”
“I thought you majored in English?”
“I did, but it’s all the same to them.” You dismiss him with a wave of your hand, “A degree is a degree. And someone has to order the charter bus for the game next week.”
That pulls a quiet laugh from him, “Maybe you could use a drink?”
Your eyes finally shift from the screen to meet his gaze, playful but intrigued, “Why? Are you offering?”
The effect is immediate, stomach fluttering as his chest thumps. It feels good to have all of your attention. He’s not too prideful to admit that.
“I—Yeah. Well, the guys are going out later. Team bonding, or something. You should come.” He feels a bit like a coward for using the team as a crutch, but he’d say anything to spend more time with you. “And before you ask: You are part of the team. Nobody would care about us if it wasn’t for you.”
“That’s not true. You’re all well-liked, with or without me.” Your disagreement is made clear when the scrunch between your brow returns, “Besides, nobody wants to get drunk with their PR manager.”
A half-truth. Managing their public images hasn’t been easy. Last month you had to deal with a leaked sex tape that looked suspiciously like one of the Miya twins. Bokuto can’t stop swearing during public interviews and Hinata almost got himself cancelled for inappropriate comments about the starting setter for the Schweiden Adlers. Even Kiyoomi has gotten heat in the media for turning down gifts from fans. You’ve got enough dirt on them to bury them several times over—It’s a miracle you have anything nice to say about them at all.
“I do.” He says before the courage leaves him. Kiyoomi likes that about you, too. Part of him wishes he could step into your world and experience life through your eyes—where everything is brighter, lighter, and forgiving. You always find ways to highlight the best parts of people, even when faced with the absolute worst. He figures that’s why you’re so good at your job.
Still, he can see the uncertainty in your face about coming. “I want you to come. It would be nice if you came, I mean.” Then more quietly, “Only if you want to, though. No pressure.”
Kiyoomi is about to cut his losses, feeling like he’s pushed too far and revealed too much about himself, begging for a scrap of your attention like a dog at dinnertime.
But you say something so astounding and unfathomable that Kiyoomi thinks he misheard you.
You say yes.
&&&
The bar they always go to is nearing empty. It’s almost midnight and still no sign of you.
The team is long gone by now since they do everything on an early schedule, including going out. Start drinking by 7pm, have your last drink around 9pm, then sober up enough to leave at 10pm to be ready for 8am practice the next day. That’s just how it goes.
So he sits in a corner booth, waiting for your silhouette to walk through the door when he probably should have left hours ago, his beer untouched and having lost all carbonation. He watches a guy on the other side of the bar completely miss his shot in a game of pool.
Huh, Kiyoomi thinks to himself, watching the condensation steadily slip down the glass, so this is what getting stood up feels like.
It just stings, more than anything else. The embarrassment is what kills him, really. You hadn’t even texted.
It begins to make sense the longer he dwells on it. It was ridiculous of him to invite you, and even more ridiculous for him to get his hopes up. Drinking with the team, really? You obviously want to maintain a professional relationship with him as much as possible, and that’s fine. He was stupid to think otherwise. Why would you jeopardize your career over him? This isn't a workplace romance.
It’s a thirty minute walk back to his apartment, but he could use the air. The trains are done for the night, so it’s not like he has a choice in the matter. Kiyoomi closes his tab, tugs on his jacket and heads for the door.
He decides to take the long route anyways, hoping to pass through the livelier side of the city to drown the noise in his head. Stopped at the crosswalk, he waits for the light to change, when a shoulder shoves into him. It’s not a big deal. He did choose to walk through the part of town known for nightlife. Though, the thought of a drunk stranger emptying their stomach on the pavement beside him has Kiyoomi turning to look at just exactly who bumped into him.
“Oh.” He says, eyes wide, “Hey.”
“Hi.” You greet, brushing him off. The light changes and you start walking, Kiyoomi following a half-second after.
“You… ” He trails, taking longer strides to match your pace. You walk strikingly fast for someone so much shorter than him. “You didn’t show.”
You huff, walking faster. “You didn’t text.”
He… what? The only reason he didn’t text was because he didn’t want you to feel pressured. You don’t need him hounding you about an offer you seemed hesitant to accept in the first place. He was trying to be considerate, afraid to stretch his luck too far and ask for too much.
“Did you not want to come? I didn’t want you to feel I was forcing you.”
“I don’t know what to feel, Kiyoomi.”
The use of his full name makes his stomach drop, “Did you want me to text you?”
“I don’t want anything from you.” You spit, tucking yourself further into your thin cardigan. He can feel you slipping further from his reach. Kiyoomi can’t see any tears, but the tremor in your voice gives you away, “Not anymore. I just want to go home.”
“Then let me walk you.” He blurts, shrugging off his jacket to drape over your shoulders, “And it’s cold out, you should be wearing a thicker coat—”
You stop walking, whipping around so fast that it forces him to stop, too. The sudden loss of momentum makes him stumble, nearly taking you down with him. The crowd splits around you, suspending this moment in a bubble where it’s just you and him, pedestrians passing by in an indistinguishable blur.
He would have fallen if he didn’t reach out to steady you, one hand landing on your shoulder and the other around your waist. Kiyoomi’s hands retract as if burned, but the slip-up puts the two of you much closer. You don’t step back.
“What is it that you want from me?” Your face is set into that firm expression again, the one that makes the cutest dip between your brows. Kiyoomi just wants to kiss it away, make it all better.
“I want—” He tries, panicked eyes darting around your face to catch every microexpression. “I want whatever you want. I invited you tonight because I wanted an excuse to see you. I’m sorry I didn’t text. I didn’t want to push. Earlier it seemed like you didn’t want to come.”
“Of course I wanted to come! You’re just so—” You gesture towards him vaguely, “I don’t know! You don’t acknowledge me at work. You rarely text. You just followed me on Instagram. What am I supposed to think?”
Kiyoomi could rip his hair out. In hindsight, his choices seem nonsensical, but every decision had been a carefully calculated measure.
“Fuck, I was over-thinking.” He can feel his heartbeat in his throat, “I was overthinking it so bad—”
You huff, adjusting his jacket over your shoulders. You don’t look convinced.
“I swear I was trying to do right by you. I didn’t know if you wanted other people to know, or if this was a casual thing, or if—”
“You could have talked to me, maybe?” You cut him off, “Fucking asked me?”
“I… didn’t have the guts to ask. I don’t know what I would have done if you just wanted to be friends.” The words catch in his throat. “I wouldn’t have known how to stand next to you at work and pretend that was enough. I still don’t.”
He’s rambling now, inhibitions now forgotten at the crosswalk when you first bumped into him.
“I think about you all the time. At practice, at home—” he gestures vaguely between you like that explains anything, “I replay every conversation we’ve had trying to figure out if I imagined it or if you actually—” he cuts himself off, “And then you leave. Every time, you just—leave. Like it didn’t mean a thing.” His voice drops, quieter now, shy. “And I didn’t know how to ask if it did.”
You’re both still blocking the walkway, the city moving around you in blurred streaks of noise and neon. Neither of you move, your fingers twitching at your side like you’re not sure what to do with them. Your mouth opens, then closes. For a second, it looks like you might say something.
You don’t.
Still, Kiyoomi holds your stare, refusing to be the one to look away first.
Finally you shake your head, but there’s no malice in it. Your voice comes out quieter than it should, “You are so fucking stupid.”
“Yeah.” He agrees easily, no arguments to be made, “—But I can do things differently from now on. If you even want to continue this. I just—Let me walk you home? Please, can I walk you home?”
“I am home,” You gesture to the building behind you with a tilt of your head. “This is my apartment.”
Not that he would know. You’ve never invited him over.
Kiyoomi recalculates, face warm. “Let me walk you to your door?”
Your smile takes him by surprise, small as it is, keys jangling loudly as you pull them from your purse, “Sure. Don’t want to get lost, now do I?”
Your sarcasm fails to deter him. Kiyoomi is a man of his word, so he escorts you the final ten paces to your doorstep, not-so-discreetly wiping the sweat from his palms.
“I have to know. What were you doing when you bumped into me earlier?”
Your gaze drops to your shoes, rocking slighting as you shift your weight from your heels to your toes then back.
“Being petty. I didn’t want to show up too late or too early. I was waiting for you to text me, so I wouldn’t look stupid.” You exhale a quiet laugh. “But you actually didn’t text me. And it suddenly felt like I was reading too deep into this. I was heading home when I saw you at the crosswalk.”
“Where’d you go for all that time?”
“The bar next door.” You snort, “I had drinks with my friend instead. They really helped me figure out my feelings.”
The thought of you dressed up, waiting anxiously for a text that never came makes Kiyoomi want to fall to his knees. Your friends probably hate him, too, and they’d be right to do so. It takes significant effort not to bang his head into the sidewalk.
“Could I…” He feels a flush creep up his neck, “Could I try again?”
You debate his question for a short while, Kiyoomi’s heart a sledgehammer in his chest. Clumsily shoving your keys into your bag, you extend a hand and give him your full name.
He scrambles to take it, your hand soft against his calloused palm, and it feels like something new.
“Sakusa Kiyoomi.” He reintroduces himself with a firm shake and a boyish grin, “Are you doing anything next weekend?”
haiii the sun is out and i feel like a person again. its actually so embarrassing how slow i am at writing i totally understand if u want to stone me in the town square. i have like 5 longer wips to finish so expect more at some point in the future probably!!
osamu and you leave your daughter with her uncle atsumu for the weekend. chaos ensues.
___
“i woulda felt better leavin’ her with kita or aran.”
you let out a snort at your husband’s statement. “over your own brother? her blood relative?”
you and osamu were driving to a weekend getaway in the mountains. while the two of you were excited for a break and some quality time, there was no denying that there was some apprehension in the car.
it was the first time you’d be away from your baby daughter. as great as a vacation sounded, it would be a lie to say the two of you weren’t reluctant to go.
in order to ease your nerves, a suitable babysitter was chosen.
only osamu didn’t have a lot of faith in your choice.
“exactly, he’s ma brother, so ‘m the only one who understands just how much of ‘n idiot he truly is.”
“but you saw how happy he was to offer to watch her! atsumu loves being a uncle, he won’t half-ass taking care of her. besides, if he ends up needing help your mom is just a call away.”
“ma’s hostin’ her book club this saturday, she can’t just drop everythin’ if tsumu’s dumbass ends up needin’ help.”
you let out a sigh. “samu, just try and relax. i’m sure everything over on his end is fine.”
____
“COURT BABY! COURT BABY! COURT BABY!”
hinata and bokuto chanted as they watched your daughter crawl across the shiny floor of the msby practice gym.
having grown tired of the play mat and toys her uncle atsumu had laid out for her, the little one decided exploring her surroundings would be far more exciting.
“she’s crawlin’ earlier than most babies would,” atsumu chimed proudly. “must’ve got ma athlete genes.”
sakusa rolled his eyes from behind the fake blonde.
“she’s really going fast! let’s time her to see how quick she can move!” hinata suggested, fascinated by the little human on the ground.
“we’re supposed to be doing passing drills-“
“GREAT IDEA HINATA!” bokuto shouted.
“i give up,” the masked brunette said, moving to sit down on the bleachers since apparently no one was going to actually bother to follow instructions.
atsumu smirked while watching his teammates fawn over his niece. he knew it would be a good idea to just bring her to friday practice. the vibe for fridays was always a little more laid-back, and he knew having a cute little baby around would earn him brownie points with his excitable teammates. who didn’t love babies?
his brown eyes shifted over to sakusa momentarily, who was gazing at his niece with a look of disdain on his face.
okay, maybe he didn’t enjoy kids, but the rest of the team sure did!
“hey hey hey, baby miya! let’s see how quick you can crawl to your uncle tsum-tsum!”
atsumu grinned, moving to kneel on the ground so he can encourage his niece to move towards him. seeing the familiar face of her uncle- who shared a face with her father- had her happily babbling away as she pushed towards him.
“awe, she’s trying to talk!” hinata cooed, lip wobbling as he watched the precious exchange.
“alright, everyone,” a voice boomed. everyone turned to see a muscular figure with a head of spiky black hair enter the gymnasium.
“your coach asked me to come over to ensure you boys were actually practicing,” iwaizumi hajime (27) athletic trainer stated. “i have some specific stamina exercises i want everyone to participate in. we’re gonna start by-“
movement in the lower peripheral of iwa’s vision caught his attention and the former ace found his gaze turning toward the floor.
“…why the hell is there a baby here?”
“don’t fuckin’ curse in front’a ma niece!”
“you just- nevermind,” iwa grunted, trying to be as patient as possible considering there was a literal infant present.
slotting his clipboard into the junction of his shoulder, the athletic trainer bent down to gently pick up your daughter. balancing her on his hip as if he’d done it a million times before, he turned back to the team.
“alright, jumping jacks and high knees, i want those heart rates getting up!”
before atsumu could open his mouth, iwa shot him a pointed look.
“i’ll hold your niece, miya, now get moving.”
the squeaking of shoes against the linoleum floor began to sound off. after ensuring everyone was properly following his instructions, he turned to the baby in his hold.
everyone knew iwaizumi was tough, but few knew how much of a complete softie he could be at times. giving your daughter a small smile, he lifted his hands to wave his fingers at her, to which she smiled back and tried to mimic his movements.
he let out a light laugh. “motor skills coming along there, i see-“
“iwaaaaa-chaaannnnn,” a voice sounded off from behind him.
iwaizumi froze. that voice, that stupid nickname, he knew it from anywhere. he began to turn his head to look behind him, gradually as if he was moving in slow-motion.
there was no way…
“guess who flew all the way from argentina to surprise you with his presence,” oikawa boasted as he stepped into the room. “that’s right, me-“
the seijoh grad fell silent as his chocolate colored eyes fell on the small human in his best friend’s hold.
oikawa blinked once. twice. three times. then-
“since when did you have a kid?”
“tooru, this isn’t-“
“how could you keep this from me?”
“will you please just-“
“a whole child? when?”
“shittykawa just shut up-“
“STOP CURSIN’ IN FRONT’A HER!”
“-and listen to me for a second!”
oikawa finally stopped his tirade, moving towards iwaizumi to study the baby in his arms. he bent down to be eye level with her, the both of them staring at each other curiously.
the brunette hummed to himself, reaching a finger out to poke your daughter’s cheek. “she doesn’t look like you.”
“wow, what an observation, it’s almost like she’s not my kid.”
“then who’s is she-“
“she’s my niece,” atsumu growled out, pushing oikawa away from the baby he was prodding at. he fixed the other man with a glare, well aware of who he was and what position he also played. the fact that this potential rival thought he could casually touch his flesh and blood had the fake blonde heated. “i’m takin’ care’a her for the weekend, which means i ain’t letting no lesser setter lay’a hand on her.”
“lesser setter?”
“oh boy,” iwa said, moving away from the two ego-fueled players. he could tell they were about to scuffle and he couldn’t let a baby be anywhere near that.
placing your little girl safely to the side, iwa crouched in front of her, sounds of “never saw ya at spring nationals” and “let’s see what your stats are, huh?” airing in the background.
“you stay right here, i’m gonna go get them to knock it off.”
standing a few meters away from all the chaos, sakusa watched as iwaizumi tried to wrench the two setters apart. sighing, he shifted his gaze to your daughter sitting unattended on the ground, babbling at nothing in particular.
sakusa grimaced. he really didn’t like babies. they were so…germy. and gross. but, he supposed the babies themselves couldn’t really help that fact. it wasn’t their fault they were so little and had such new immune systems.
a shadow then loomed over your daughter, bokuto and hinata standing over her. now that iwaizumi was too distracted to lead them in workouts, the two’s attention was back on the infant.
“i know!” bokuto exclaimed. “let’s do passing drills with baby miya! we can pass her back and forth to each other!”
“she’ll feel like she’s flying! like she’s a little crow!”
“or an owl!”
“you two will be doing absolutely no such thing with this child,” sakusa interjected, scooping your daughter up and going to sit down on the bench with her.
“but ki-“
“no.”
he wasn’t a fan of babies, but considering your daughter’s uncle was currently holding oikawa in a headlock, sakusa figured he could keep an eye on her for just a few minutes. it wouldn’t be too much longer before iwa finally decided he’d had enough and smacked the shit out of both of them.
hearing a little gurgle from below him, the brunette cast his eyes downwards. your daughter’s sight was transfixed on him, a smile coming onto her face when she saw she had the spiker’s attention.
from behind his mask, sakusa felt the corners of his lips twitch upwards.
“Okay, here are the rules!” Koutarou explains, gesturing wildly in the passenger seat of your car.
“You don’t flirt with Tsumu!”
“No flirting with Tsumu, got it.” You nod.
“I mean it!”
You laugh. “I wouldn’t dream of flirting with anyone but you, Kou!”
“Thanks,” he smiles before turning serious again. “But this is Tsumu, he’s got a lot of fans.”
“Okay, but I’m your fan, I can’t be both.”
“True,” Koutarou hums, distracted for a second before he remembers.
“Next rule. Oomi-Oomi doesn’t like handshakes.”
“No handshakes, gotcha.”
“Oh, high fives are the same thing, apparently.”
“Really?”
“I know, weird, right? Oh, but can nod at him. He likes that.”
“Nodding at… wait, who was that again?”
“Oomi-Oomi? It’s the one with the curly hair. You called him Mr. Fancy Hair.”
“Okay, nodding at Fancy Hair. What else?”
“Well, you know Shouyou, so you can do with him what you want.”
“Can I flirt with him?”
“No!” Koutarou laughs at that obvious jab. “B’sides, he’s bringing his girlfriend.”
“Great, so I can flirt with her.”
“Be serious.”
“I am serious. Who are you?”
“I’m Koutarou.”
You stop in front of a red light and use the chance to lean in for a kiss, giggling against Koutarou’s pouting lips.
“Next rule?”
“Oh, next rule,” he coughs as he thinks. “I think that’s it. Today you’re only meeting those three. And Samu. And Akaashi, but you know him.”
-
“I’m not flirting with you!” You decidedly tell the guy at the door, as you’ve been instructed.
“That’s Samu,” Koutarou bellows happily behind you, cradling the snacks you brought along.
“Oh, hi.” You move to shake his hand before hesitating. “Can I shake his hand?” You turn to ask Koutarou who nods vigorously.
“Sorry, I’m not good with names.”
“All good,” Samu waves you in, clapping Koutarou on the shoulder with a force that leaves you shaking in fear. Former volleyball player, you’re sure.
His twin finds you at the next corner, blond hair falling into his eyes as he winks at you.
You decide to play it safe, nodding in his direction before turning the other direction, running into someone whose face is familiar but his name is definitely not.
“Mr. Fancy Hair,” you call out, your brain void of anything better. He curls his nose upwards in obvious confusion and you duck under his arm in search of your boyfriend.
You’re not making the best impression here.
You find Kotarou in the kitchen, with - of course - Akaashi by his side.
“Save me,” you hurl yourself at him and he catches you with ease.
“What did you do?” Koutarou asks while Akaashi watches, clearly amused.
“I messed up all their names and stuff. I did not flirt with Samu, I nodded at Tsumu and I just called Oomi-Oomi Mr. Fancy Hair.”
Koutarou laughs. “So, they all met you. That’s good.”
“But I wanted to make a good impression,” you whine.
“The way I see it, you made the best impression already,” Akaashi drawls across from you, smiling. “You make Bokuto happy. What more do we need, as his friends?”
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HQ BOYS WHO DON’T WANT TO LET YOU GO (pt.2 - msby)
aka. clingy boyfriends (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)
SAKUSA: “stay.” he sternly commands as if he’s royalty. his chest is pressed against your back while his one arm is around your neck and the other around your waist. from your point of view honestly, you feel as if you’re being held hostage—your boyfriend adding more strength to restrain you everytime you try to resist. “omi, i need to pee.” you cry, still trying to wiggle in his arms, and yet your boyfriend’s strength doesn’t match yours at all as all your efforts are in vain. “please, please, please omi?” you plead, chanting please’s as if it’s a prayer, and you only feel him nuzzling his face on the back of your head, as if he’s letting you know he’s not planning on listening to you any further. for the nth time, you sigh, “omi—“ “stay.” he persistently says in a muffle, and when you’re about to open your mouth to reply, he cuts you off guard when he leans up to land a soft peck on your cheek, looking at you with sleepy, narrowed eyes as he pouts, “are you done? is your bladder more important than me, huh? give me one more minute. if i let you go now, i think i’m going to crumble.”
ATSUMU: “my god, you’re so cute.” his voice comes out in a low murmur that muffles against your neck as you sit on his lap. you feel as if a warm blanket has been draped around your figure in the form of atsumu’s arms tightly wrapping around your waist. you couldn’t stop the smile forming through your features as you listen to your boyfriend love-sickly rambling his affection for you. “my angel”, he grins, looking at you before landing a peck on your lips, and he repeats it again, “beautiful”, peck. “cutie pie”, peck. “darling”, peck. “sweetheart”, peck. and the list goes on and on before you couldn’t even take it anymore—letting out a chuckle as you look away in embarrassment, the gesture making your boyfriend laugh as he holds your cheeks with his two hands. “what?? shy over a few compliments angel?” he teases with a smirk on his face as his eyes gazes upon you longingly. “how cruel you are, making me want you even more with just that smile of yours.”
BOKUTO: “are you sure you’re like, not some angel who fell from the sky who’s secretly in an undercover mission to make a human, which is me, to fall inlove head over heels for you?” he rambles, looking at you in a bewildered way as you blink at him in confusion, “kotaro, what are you talking about?” your head lays on top of his chest while his arm under you is wrapped around your waist. “it’s just”, he begins, turning to his side so he could see you properly, and as soon as his face is barely inches close to yours, he couldn’t stop the giggle that escapes from his lips as he’s quick to pull you closer to his arms, his chin now resting over your head, and you stay there in surprise. you feel his arms around you hugging you tighter as he nuzzles his cheek on top of your head. “sorry.” he apologizes half heartedly with a laugh, “right now, i can’t get myself together when i look at you in the eye. you’re just too beautiful to look at baby.”
HINATA: the happy-go-lucky smile he has on his face while his arms are around you gives it all away. he looks at you as if you’re the only precious person to him in the world. he giggles, “god, i love you so much. i don’t ever want to let you go.” he tightens his hold around you, literally pressing his body against yours so there’s not a tiny space between you while he keeps chattering his mouth like a giddy chuld, “i love you.. hehe.. i love you! i can’t believe you’re mine!” he then dives down so his face is pressed against your neck right below your chin. you couldn’t help the chuckles escaping from you while your boyfriend continues to nuzzle and latch himself onto you like there’s no tomorrow. all the while, you could feel his lips moving against the skin of your neck as he mumbles a set of phrases, “god, i’m so lucky.” “i love you so much.” “please let me stay with you like this.”
⨳ATSUMU had left his phone on the counter face up. you weren’t planning on peaking at it until he got a notification and his phone screen flashed in. you glanced it at from the corner of your eye. at first, you didn’t fully process what the photo was then you reached for the phone and turned it on. it was a photo of you. the day the two of you went to a fair. you were laughing and pointing at something when he took the photo, this was your first time seeing it. “babe, have ya seen my phone?” atsumu asked as he entered the kitchen. he stopped in his tracks when he saw you smiling at him with your phone in hand. “why have you never shown me this photo?” you asked. “i look so good.” a chuckle escaped the setter's throat as he approached you with his hand out for his phone. “you always look good.” he grinned sending you a wink.
⨳BOKUTO showed you it when you asked why he was smiling at his phone so much. every single time he picked up his phone he spent at least thirty seconds staring at it with a huge grin on his face. it was a photo of you asleep on his chest with your mouth slightly open. your face scrunched up in disgust as you turn to your boyfriend. "really ko?" he had an offended look on his face as he pulled the phone back into his arms. "i think you look amazing!" you couldn't help but smile, arguing with him would be pointless. he continued to talk about the photo for five minutes.
⨳HINATA and you had matching lock screens, you had opposite halves of the same photo. it was a picture the two of you took when you went to disney world. (photo creds to bokuto). you were wearing matching MSBY jerseys, obviously shoyo's and mickey mouse ears. the two of you had huge grins on your faces and your arms around each other in front of the cinderella castle. you two enjoy showing off the matching lock screens to your friends.
⨳SAKUSA showed you his right after he took it. it was a photo of you that morning, next to him on the couch, hair a mess, and eyes barely open. he took it with a faint smile on his face before deciding to show you. "look," he said tapping your leg to get your attention as he held his phone out toward you. your eyes immediately widened at the sight of the photo. "kiyoomi! seriously!?" you whined dramatically. "what? you look great." he said cooly as if he didn't know what you were thinking. "I'm gonna make it my lock screen." he stated as he began to set it. "please don't let anyone have your phone!" you begged. he scoffed and turned to you briefly. "do you hear yourself? you have nothing to worry about." he said reassuringly.
MSBY! Black Jackals (including Barnes and Joffe) x GN! Manager
Warnings: fluff
AN: just expressing my love of new nail day 🤩
Everyone needs selfcare Yn
Especially you 🥰
Because let’s face it, you have one of the toughest jobs on the entire planet
While you love your job and adore the guys, man do you need a break 😅
And one of the activities you do often is pampering yourself with new nails 💅
Whether you DIY them or go to a tech, your nails always look perfect!
Sometimes you go for simple, like an ombré or a French tip
And sometimes, when the guys are EXTRA annoying, you splurge and do a design or some bling 💎
No matter what you get, the nails do their job
And let’s just say, you look FABULOUS 🤩
And there’s one thing you can always count on
The guys noticing your new manicure!
It’s almost kind of weird how much these guys notice
Like your pretty sure they look at your hands everyday just waiting for a new set
The moment you walk into the gym and the glimmer of a new set sparkles, it’s game time
“YN LET ME SEE THEMMMM!” Bokuto shouts, running full force towards you as you brace for impact
“NEW NAIL DAY NEW NAIL DAY!” Hinata shouts, bouncing towards you
“Don’t break them right away!” Atsumu shouts, following behind the first two dummies
“You shouldn’t go near them either Miya, they are expensive!” Sakusa scolds him
Meian, Inunaki, Barnes, Thomas and Joffe all just stand aside, waiting for the hype to die down
Bokuto and Hinata each grab a hand and began to dissect everything
The shape, the design, the bling 😩
“Oh wow YN, look at all the sparkles!!” Bokuto chimes, so excited
“I don’t understand how the shape is so perfect on every one of them! There is like no imperfections!” Hinata comments, observing your perfectly manicured cuticles
Sakusa whistles, looking over Hinata, “man YN, did you have to take a loan out to get those done?”
Meanwhile you just stand there, waiting for their gasping and oohing to finally calm down
“Alright idiots, back off of Yn!” Meian finally says, interrupting their party
“But captain, YN’s nails are always so pretty!” Hinata gushes
“They are very pretty-” Meian adds
“And YN is super pretty too!” Inunaki interjects
You 👉🏻🥹
“Yes Yn is very pretty-” Meian continues
“Wow YN how do you even get to see those gems to stay on?” Barnes asks
“It’s a cured gel that makes them super strong!” You say, banging your nails against the wall to demonstrate their durability
The team 👉🏻😱😱😱
“I can’t believe how well you work with nails like that YN, truly remarkable!” Thomas compliments
“Well YN is the best manager in the entire V.League,” Joffe boosts
“Ok YN’s nails are great but we need to get practicing,” Meian sighs as the guys continue to ignore him
“You can’t expect us to practice with such perfection in our presence!” Atsumu exclaims, grabbing your hand and pushing it into Meian’s face
Meian 👉🏻😐🙄
You can tell Meian is about to lose it, so you decide the guys have done enough simping for today
“Ok guys, let’s get to practicing!” You say, walking towards your office
“But Yn what if you break a nail!” Bokuto scream 🙀
“That would be a tragedy!” Hinata yells back
“Well it’s a good thing YN doesn’t actually play Volleyball then,” Sakusa adds
“Yeah but what if one of Atsumu’s rogue serves gifs YN in the hand!” Inunaki interjects
“Hey-” Atsumu asks confused 😐
“Or what if one of Atsumu’s really bad sets hits Yn and they have to block their face?” Joffe questions
“HEY MY SETS ARE PERFECT!” Atsumu shouts back
“Atsumu shut up and get on the court!” Meian yells
Atsumu 👉🏻👁️👄👁️
“Oh and by the way Yn, your nails look amazing,” Meian winks before walking onto the court
