dragonslayer-5fanfiction - Tumblr blog

dragonslayer-5fanfiction · 12 days

Text

as if guided by an inexplicable force, hinata finds himself outside of karasuno high school.

he dismounts his bike. a few students pass by, shooting him furtive glances, making him feel out of place. all throughout his high school years, he was repeatedly mistaken as a middle schooler, and now that he's left school behind him for good, it seems he'll never escape such impressions.

wheeling his bike along, he walks around, tracing the routes he took from the bike rack to the clubrooms, the main building, the gyms where the various teams practice. their doors are wide open to allow for fresh air, voices drifting over him.

eventually, he finds the gym dedicated to the volleyball team, established as such in his third year. he freezes at ukai's shouts, sharp as ever, yelling at his players to raise their elbows, to react faster. a chorus of affirmatives answer him, and the ball is thrown in the air again.

curiosity gets the best of him. hinata leans his bike against the wall and creeps closer to the door, peering inside. the players are divided into two teams, differentiated by green and yellow bibs. ukai stands at the referee's position, watching as the ball sails back and forth. the libero goes for the receive, the setter running to cover it, sending it to the left. the wing spiker jumps, unperturbed by the three-man block in front of him. his spike blows past them.

ukai blows his whistle. the boys shout in celebration. hinata, caught up in the excitement, cheers along. "nice kill!"

heads turn in his direction, ukai included. hinata freezes, feels his blood turn cold. then, the gym explodes.

"it's hinata shoyo from the jackals!"

"hinata-senpai!"

"hinata-san! can i get your autograph?"

"what's he doing here?"

"is he here to visit?"

as the boys rush toward him, ukai steps down and holds them off with a fierce glare. to his visitor, he says, "i never would've expected to see you here."

"hi, coach! i, uh, i'm playing a game with friends later, and i got restless, so i went on a bike ride and ended up here..." hinata chuckles nervously. "ah, i didn't mean to bother you! i can leave if you want-"

"if i make you leave, i'll never hear the end of it," ukai snorts, glancing over at his dazed team. "stick around for a bit. i'll throw them at you after a few more rallies." he turns around, barks at everyone to get back into position. hinata grins, taking his shoes off before entering to observe from the sidelines.

there's something nostalgic about being back to his humble roots. shoes squeak against the hardwood floor, the air stiff with only the door open. the curtains are drawn across the stage, water bottles and towels scattered on the ledge. it feels just like yesterday that he was being scolded for leaving his gear everywhere, always distracted by his underclassmen or something else.

ukai gives them a break, and the boys swarm him with questions about the jackals, how to improve their serves, whether or not he'll sign their uniforms. "no way that's going to happen," ukai grumbles at the last request.

"i'd be happy to sign anything else," hinata chirps. "within reason, of course!"

as the boys scramble to find appropriate items and markers, hinata hears footsteps approach from behind. he glances over his shoulder, whirls around in surprise. "kageyama!"

"oh." kageyama stops, hands in the pockets of his team jacket. "what are you doing here?"

"i can ask you the same thing!"

"i was in the area, so i thought to say hi to ukai-san." he nods politely when his coach gapes at him. "hello."

"let me guess..." ukai gestures at both of them. "you'll be playing together later?"

hinata nods. "yeah! we also invited-"

"ah! hinata! kageyama!"

"yamaguchi! and..." hinata waves at the blonde hiding behind his friend. "tsukishima!"

"why are you here?" tsukishima grumbles, stepping into view.

ukai has an amused look on his face. "i didn't know the off-season is when alumni visit their old coaches."

"the gym we're playing at is nearby," yamaguchi explains. "hope you don't mind us dropping by."

"i do, in the sense you're disturbing our practice time, but i'll just think of it as upperclassmen coming to see their underclassmen." ukai nods at his team, starstruck, now that the number of pros have multiplied. "you've got five minutes to ask for autographs, so make it fast!"

after a whirlwind of autographs, one underclassman approaches hinata. "could you show us your minus tempo set with kageyama-san?" he asks eagerly. "we're trying to replicate it, but haneda isn't fast enough." another boy, presumably the setter, scoffs and mutters under his breath.

"sure! uh, if that's okay with you, coach," hinata adds hastily. ukai nods, and he turns to kageyama. "did you bring your court shoes?"

"obviously. did you?"

hinata pulls open his drawstring bag. "yeah!"

they put their shoes on and step onto the court. it's like they're in their first year again, discovering the tools that'll help them succeed, unafraid to drop whatever is no longer useful. "do you still remember how it's done?" hinata asks, picking up a ball.

"you don't just forget how to do it," kageyama retorts. "dumbass."

hinata laughs and tosses the ball. he makes his approach, arms pulled back, leaping into the air in the blink of an eye, the ball already arching at where his contact point is. he spikes, the ball landing with a resounding echo.

applause erupts, along with requests for them to do it again. hinata turns and extends his fist, kageyama knocking his own against his. maybe there will be a day when they'll be on the same team again, but until then, the synergy they shared will remain dormant, always ready to cause a spark.

"don't be strangers!" ukai calls out as they get ready to leave. "come by and visit whenever you have time!"

"yeah!" hinata jumps to his feet, his former teammates behind him. "see you later, coach!"

102 notes · View notes

dragonslayer-5fanfiction · 12 days

Text

Time for some bitching about the stardew valley fandom and shane.

Im gonna be a bitch and say the people who act like everyone who loves Shane as a character or marries him in game thinks they can "Fix" him are toxic as hell. Yes even if they're being facetious.

Seriously do you guys not see how it's maybe a wee bit fucked up to say the only reason someone could like or love someone who struggles with Depression or addiction (alcoholism) is because theyre trying to "fix them"

Yes Shane is fictional. But the main reason people love him so much, the reason he won the Batchelor vote for the game by a landslide,is because people RELATED to him.

I've been playing Stardew since the first version. I remember the days of what we called "The Shane Train" when everyone loved Shane and talked about how much of a mood he was and how they wanted to love and care for him.

And no, wanting to love and care for someone who had problems in their life is not "fixing" them.

When I hear this stupid fucking joke, what I hear is people saying "If your depressed, Suicidal,or struggle with addiction, You are inherently unlovable and anyone interested in you is only there to live out aselfish savior complex cause your a gross ugly weirdo with a messy room. How could anyone every be interested in or attracted to you!"

Just. Fucking stop it. I don't care if his messy spouse room ruins your precious aesthetic. No ones forcing you to marry him in game. Just. Stop.

#louder for the people in the back #stardew valley #stardew shane #stardew valley shane

139 notes · View notes

dragonslayer-5fanfiction · 14 days

Text

Fall in Love on Disco Pang Pang

contains : seijoh 4, Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Hanamaki, Matsukawa, x reader, scenarios, getting done yeeted, mattsun’s is a lil suggestive but not nsfw (i’m sorry i’m a whore 😫), i know twice and whatnot wasn’t exactly around when these fuckers were in high school but work with me okay? Thanks 🤠

if you don’t know about wolmido’s disco pang pang, click here!!

You were walking around the amusement park by your lonesome when you noticed the big machine. The two friends that came with you ended up bringing their boyfriends, and you got left all alone. But looking up at the disco pang pang ride, you tilted your head. The line was far from long. It seemed to be a lull in the evening as a lot of people were grabbing dinner or even heading home for the night.

“Couldn’t hurt,” you thought out loud. You trudged on over to the line, pulling your sweater sleeves down. You’d seen and heard so many stories about the ride. And as you pilled into the ride, you found a spot for yourself. It wasn’t crowded by any means. It was no more than ten people, including yourself.

Can’t wait to embarrass myself, you thought.

Oikawa

this asshole of a show off was able to calmly stand in the middle, balancing perfectly during the ride with what you only assumed was his friends telling him to sit down

you couldn’t tell if you wanted to let yourself be impressed or if you were mad he was able to do that at all

regardless you were struggling to even stay seated, jumping and being thrown about like a rag doll

the girl near you had slowly been yeeted towards you and ended up knocking you out your seat, into the center

everything happens so dang fast next

you can hear the park speakers blaring The Feels by Twice and you’re being thrown by the demon of a ride, struggling catch yourself even a bit

and as you’re thrown into the air, the chorus of the song hits

you’re grabbed, strong arms pulling you to your feet, pressing you into a broad chest

as you look up to see who helped you all you hear is

“YOU HAVE STOLEN MY HEART, OH YEAH!”

and you didn’t know if it was a omen or if irony but you felt your heart explode

the cocky, show off was the one keeping you stable

“Caught you just in time, princess! Hold on,” he chuckled.

You couldn’t even respond, cause you were just mesmerized by his everything. His eyes were so warm and energetic that smile on his face was actually not irritating at all, just really cute and fun-loving. This guy was having the time of his life.

Another thing you noticed with his strong grip was he wasn’t half as steady as you thought he was. But neither were you. As another jolt came, you found yourself falling again.

“Hey, hey!” the mystery guy called out. His strong grip on you was the only thing keeping you up. “Spread your legs a bit. It’ll steady you!”

He was still so smiley as you regained yourself, gripping his biceps for help. He was all giggles as the ride began to spin and you finally steadied yourself.

“So, what’s your name? Seems you’ll be stuck here a minute!”

“I’m ______,” you yell over the music and wind.

“I’m Oikawa! Nice to meet you!”

“You too!”

You could just barely hear him but he was mumbling the song’s lyrics and you snickered.

“Do you- Do you like Twice?!”

“Hunh? Oh! Yeah! They’re great! I love how fun their music is! I got to go to a concert of theirs actually. It was loads of fun!”

“Awesome! My sibling listens to them a lot. I’ve been meaning to get into them!”

“I can show you all their best songs! We should hang out after this! Make a lil date, hunh? I’d say you owe me after I saved you there!”

Cocky lil guy. Oikawa winked at you, playfully grinning. He sure was lucky he was cute, you thought. Cute, personable, strong, you had to admit, it wouldn’t hurt at all. Besides, it was better than hanging around the park all by yourself, hoping your friends return to you. You deserved to have fun and enjoy your evening too.

“Sounds like a plan!”

Iwaizumi

you were doing a damn good job for the first half of the ride truthfully!

especially considering you watched a strawberry blonde go rolling across the floor of the ride

but when the second half kicked in, with much jeering and whatnot from the mc, the ride was kicked into overdrive

when your half was raised and jostled, your hands slipped from the railing

and next thing you knew, you were getting thrown around left and right, fighting for your fuckin life out here 😫

that’s when you felt a strong arm yank you up

you couldn’t even see your savior but they had the strongest grip with their arm about your waist

“hang in there,” the guy holding you laughed, loudly

and when you were jostled more by the ride, you were able to turn enough to see whose lap you sat upon

“Thanks for your help,” you call to him over the music and wind

“Don’t mention it!!”

When the ride ended, you promptly jumped up for the guy’s lap. But that seemed to be too quick as that last minute, or so it felt like, of being spun around had left you without your land legs.

And as your knees gave out on you, the strong arm from before wrapped back around your waist. “Oi, why don’t you let me walk you to a seat or something. I’m afraid you might fall on someone else,” he chuckled. Helping you stand up, he placed a hand on your shoulder, turning back to the boys he was with. “I’ll catch up with you guys later, okay?”

He didn’t even wait for a response before leading you off the ride. He kept that warm hand on your shoulder, making sure you were steady. The guy lead you to one of the food stalls, sitting you at the bench near by.

“I’ll be right back!”

You watched him curiously as he ran up to the vendor and spoke with them briefly. Exchanging some yen, he jogged back over with two water bottles. He held one out, plopping down on the bench besides you.

“O-Oh! Thanks, you didn’t have to do that,” you note aa you open the bottle.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. Name’s Iwaizumi, by the way.”

You look over at him, taking a sip from the bottle. Was he….interested? No..he was just…being nice? Maybe…

“_______,” you respond. “Thanks for grabbing me in the ride and after.”

“No problem. Didn’t look like you came with anyone really. Figured you might want a little company?”

“Ah, you didn’t have to. I came with my friends but, uh, they brought their boyfriends and ran off. Can’t exactly do that, so might as well enjoy the park by myself.”

“Did you want to?”

You were taken back by his question, tilting your head. “Want to what?”

“Roam around the park with your boyfriend?”

“Oh! Oh, no. I don’t have one,” you laugh. Damn dude, way to make me spell it out that I’m the only single one in my friend group, you thought. Taking another sip from your water, you looked to the ground almost embarrassed.

“Want one? Even if just for the night?”

Spiittt!!!

You choked, slapping your chest trying to regain yourself. Iwaizumi hit your back, frowning at what he’d caused. He was quick to follow up with “It was only a suggestion! I’m so sorry!”

“No- No. I’ll,” you stop, coughing a bit more. “I’ll take your offer. You just caught me off guard.”

Makki

before the ride began a group of guys sat down near you, all giggling and whatnot

the boy closest to you had an ashy pink hair color. Or was it a dirty strawberry blonde? Either way, he waved and smiled

you politely waved back and returned to your tightened grip on the safety bars

as the ride began, you focused on staying put but that wasn’t the easiest task you learned

suddenly all the videos of people getting yeeted and tossed about like ragdolls made sense, as you found yourself tossed to your left, closer to the guy

he didn’t even notice as he was struggling to stay in place, getting jostled by his friends, thrown closer to you

next you knew, the guy was in your lap, arms about your shoulders

he practically shrieked, jumping off you, yelling out “I’M SO SORRY!!”

your poor soul didn’t even get a second to recover as you’re thrown out your seat, towards the center of the ride

As you are slowly being yeeted to the center of the ride, you felt a hand pull on your wrist, tugging at you. You reached out for a second, luckily catching a break from the jostling. The hands pulled you up and into the seat, holding your forearms still.

“There you go!”

You whip your hair out your eyes, flicking your head to the side, being met with the guy. You sat besides him and the machine changed to spinning instead of jolting.

“Th-Thank you so much,” you pant. God, this ride was well, a ride, to say the least.

“Don’t mention it. You can hold onto me any time. Just call out for me,” he joked. You found yourself giggling at the dumb joke. He was pretty cute actually, and funny to boot.

“How will I know what to call?”

“It’s Hanamaki! Just call me Makki.”

“Makki,” you repeat. Your short lived peace is replaced by the aggressive jolting again and your eyes go wide. Your attention is thrown to staying seated before you can tell him your name.

And next you know Makki is thrown into the center of the ride, letting go of your sweater sleeves. You knew that only could mean one thing.

You were next.

No doubt about it, you absolutely were. You fell into the center, on your knees, struggling to stand up or get to a seat. Frick, you could just barely make out that Makki was still near by, stuck in the center as well. You know you just met him, but you figured calling out for his assistance again wouldn’t hurt anything.

“Makki!” you call out. The guy had just barely managed to roll over to you, reaching out to you. He struggled a bit but stood up, grabbing your hand.

“You called?~ Lets get you back to a seat, shall we?”

Makki, the stranger you just met, was a bit wild you learned quickly. As he held onto you, fighting to keep you both on your feet, he flung himself towards a seat when the machine jolted again. Somehow, someway, after a few more attempts, you two made it. You landed besides him, arms wrapped about his neck as an anchor of sorts. Meanwhile, Makki gripped the safety bars.

“Sorry, don’t think I caught you name, by the way.”

“______.”

Mattsun

you went in too confident about your ability to stay seated

you let out a shriek as soon as you got thrown into the air, out of your seat

you found yourself forward rolling across the ride as if it was tumbling class, and at some point you managed to stand up and you’d never been more scared and proud at the same time before

the mc made a comment about how he’d find you a boyfriend and you looked to the PA box confused before getting thrown yet again

and you fell right into a big guy’s lap, knees on either side of his hips, his hands on your waist

“be sure to send me a wedding invitation for getting you two together,” the mc laughed

you practically growled, hands gripping the railing before looking down

oh no

🥵he’s hot🥵

fuckfuckfuckfuck

“hey pretty girl,” he cooed. “Glad you found your seat!”

his grin was so lazy but hot at the same time

and his eyes while dark had a caring, intense look

the brunette besides him began making a barfing noise, hollering “I want off this thing, and his ass is flirting! Unbelievable!”

Looking to his friend, you let out a laugh. You looked back to the guy whose lap you were on though, smiling. “My name is ______! What’s yours?”

“Matsukawa!”

Your smile grew and you began to shift to get off his lap and sit besides him instead. Of course, the asshat controlling the machine jolted the machine, throwing you into Matsukawa further. The pair of you went up, but his arms wrapped about you tightly, trying to keep you from getting yeeted. Your grip on the safety bars only tightened then, fear in your eyes.

The jostling and jolting had you bouncing on the guy’s lap the entire ride, and you let go of the safety bar with one hand to hide your face. Even in the crisp night air, you felt your body burning from embarrassment.

“I-I’m so sorry about this,” you whimper.

“Nothing to apologize about! You get a secure spot and I get a cutie on my lap,” he chuckled.

“GET ME OFF THIS THING!!!” Matsukawa’s friend shrieked. You both turned your attention over, watching him shove his finger to back of his throat at you two. “Get a room!”

“I was hoping to get her dinner first, Oikawa!”

You laid your head on his shoulder, hiding from him and the world. God. He was too smooth for his own good, you thought.

“So, what’re you feeling? Or did you eat already?” Matsukawa asked.

Oh god. He was serious. “A-Anything is fine!” You waved off the question, just trying to make it through the ride at this point. God. Seven or so minutes went on for what felt like an eternity.

“Just try to hang in there, and I’ll be sure you get a nice meal, then!”

And you barely managed to hold onto Matsukawa for the rest of the ride. You were nearly thrown onto the floor or his friends a few times too many. But every single time, Matsukawa’s strong arms and hands reeled you back in. His feet were planted flat, legs manspreading as a tactic to keep in place - which fyi, oddly worked.

When the ride finally came to a stop, you slowly released Matsukawa. He helped you stand up slowly, fixing your hair for you. He patted himself off before standing up with a lazy grin.

“So, about dinner.”

He held out his hand to you and waited patiently. His friends didn’t even bother waiting for him. The one that was being dramatic did however make another barf noise, booing Matsukawa. Something about ‘not fair he gets a date on boys night.’ Still you blocked it out, taking Matsukawa’s hand.

“That…sounds nice after that Hell of a ride.”

215 notes · View notes

dragonslayer-5fanfiction · 15 days

Text

Confessions After Hours

word count: 1124 || avg. reading time: 5 mins.

pairing: Akiteru x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff, friends to lovers

warnings: like one time swearing

synopsis: Akiteru accidentally confesses to you

____________________________________________

You looked outside the café windows for the fourth time in the last 5 minutes, it was past closing time, all the cleaning was done and your fellow part-timers had already left. So you just tried to find some busy work to have a somewhat legitimate reason to stall. The rain was getting worse and by now you were pretty sure Akiteru wouldn’t come.

It’s not like it was an actual plan, you reminded yourself, it was just kind of implied that he wanted to walk you home but no one could expect him to go out in this weather.

And so you hummed to yourself while carefully brushing down mint leaves and edible flowers with egg whites and sugar.

Your mood dropped a little when you checked the clock again. You had been looking forward to spending time alone with Akiteru.

Of course, you had little hope that he was interested in you romantically but that didn’t stop you from dreamily staring at him during study sessions or making a fool of yourself whenever possible - like running into a glass door when he smiled at you like last week.

When you laid the sugar coated decoration out on a baking sheet, a familiar figure caught your eye.

He stood on the other side of the road, waiting for a safe crossing. Quickly you walked over to the front door to unlock it and let him in.

“Ugh, wet.”, he commented, waddling in.

“Why didn’t you bring an umbrella?”, you asked incredulously when he pulled back his drenched hood and shook his soaked hair like a dog.

“We only have one and one of the others got it tonight.”, he explained as if that was normal.

You swallowed the start of what would probably be a rather long discussion about why it wasn’t smart that 4 roommates shared a singular umbrella and so instead opted for “You should get out of those wet clothes before you catch your death.”

He gave you an overly dramatic look of shock, clutching his soaked collar like a Victorian lady.

“Oh, grow up!”

Together you peeled him out of his hoodie (his t-shirt underneath was dry for the most part) and you considered the dripping bulk of fabric for a second, before making a decision.

Wringing out as much of the excess water as possible over the kitchen sink, you then opened the still warm oven from the banana bread you made earlier and placed the black hoodie on a baking sheet inside.

Akiteru watched you with crossed arms and then asked in complete earnest, “How long do you think it needs?”

“I don’t know, Akiteru. I have never baked hoodie before. I’d give it like 5 minutes and then I’ll turn it over. We’ll see.”

To warm him up you brewed him a big mug of coffee in the already cleaned machine. A gesture that didn’t fail to impress. “I have never felt this special in my life.” He wrapped his large hands around the steaming cup and breathed in the cozy coffee scent.

“Don’t get used to it.”, you said, smiling, taking a sandwich and a bowl of fruit you had prepared for him earlier out of the fridge.

“This café has such excellent service. Thank you.”

You pulled a folder of various papers from a shelf, turning pages as if to check things - he didn’t need to know that you were just pretending. “So, how is the Kei situation - still hating the club?”

“Not so much hating, I’d say indifferent, which somehow is almost worse.”

“How come?”

“At least hate would indicate a strong emotion.”, he said wisely, plopping a grape in his mouth and feeding you one, too, while you were “busy” tapping something on your phone’s calculator and writing gibberish numbers on a slip of paper. When his fingertips accidentally brushed your lips in the process your brain came to a full stop.

“But the spring tournament is right around the corner and I am almost sure he is actually starting to enjoy himself - a little.”

Another grape.

He took a sip of coffee and sighed.

“Your coffee tastes like a hug.”

Your eyes lit up. “I… that is the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me. You mean, like a good hug though, right? Not one of those half-assed one armed thingies.”

He spluttered into his mug and coughed to clear his throat.

“Yes, a good hug. Both arms, full body contact. I am talking full-on cocoon.”

With a bragging smile, brain still fried, you said “I’ve been told I give pretty amazing hugs like that.” proudly pushing your chin up.

“Oh yeah? Well then let’s see what you got.”

You thought for a second, then dropped your highly important paperwork back on the counter. “Let’s have a look at your hoodie first, don’t want it to get too dark.”

A moment later you stood across from each other stretching as if getting ready for a fight. “Alright, little one. Give it your all.”, he said and opened his arms.

He had been ready for a lot of things. He had held your hand before, when navigating through a crowd (only as friends of course), so he was no stranger to the tingles your touch sent through his body.

What he hadn’t been ready for was your head to be leaning against his chest and your hands gently stroking over his back. He returned the hug immediately, placing one hand on your back and one gently cradling your head, resting his cheek against your temple. A perfect fit. It was better than he had ever imagined. Where did they even make people as soft and heavenly squishy as you? For many hasty heartbeats he held you like this. Then you gave the smallest sigh and actually snuggled even closer to him. He couldn’t take it. It was too much. And so without thinking in one quiet breath he let out, “Shit, I’m so in love with you.”

He felt you stiffen in his arms and prepared for the worst. You lifted your head to look at him, your eyes sleepy like you had been about to doze off.

Akiteru loosened his arms so you could pull away like you undoubtedly were going to. But you didn't.

"I'm... I'm sorry that was really stupid.", he said quickly.

"Don't worry, I accidentally tried freezing a cucumber last week. You're good.", you said in a drowsy sort of way.

"What?"

He didn't know what to do. You hadn't pulled away. You weren't screaming or running away or hitting him. Instead, you got on your tip-toes, a hand on his chest and smiled, before you set the softest kiss against his surprised lips.

____________________________________________

37 notes · View notes

dragonslayer-5fanfiction · 17 days

Text

"Tell Me Why I Married You Again?"

Content: Half of the school ships the teacher and the coach, not knowing they're married

Tags: use of "ma'am/mrs." to the reader, fluff, bickering, old married couple vibes

Word Count: 848

The sound of fists smacking hard against the ball and the high-pitched squeak of the boys’ sneakers can be heard even before you could enter the gym. It’s 3 pm and, as usual, there was an ongoing session of volleyball training. Interhigh Preliminaries are near but that doesn’t mean you’re going to let this slide.

Pushing open the sliding doors, the warm air of, well, sweat filled the enclosure. One of the reasons you don’t like going here.

“Hinata, nice spike! Keep it up!” Ukai’s loud, booming voice echoed throughout the gym. As expected, he didn’t really notice your presence, despite standing near the doorway. God, he is such an idiot sometimes.

“Hey, Keishin.” Your voice, low yet firm, seemed to catch the attention of everyone. Not exactly how you wanted this to happen.

Ukai seemed startled at your presence, his eyes widening and his mouth agape “Hey! Uh, (Y/N)? What are you doing here?”

With your hands on your hips, he knew exactly why you’re here. He just didn’t want to make a fool of himself.

You could already see the shit-eating grins on some of the boys’ faces, specifically Tanaka and Noya’s. You rolled your eyes and stepped forward “Where are the jerseys? The principal has been grilling my ass over this for two days now.” You told him, a gaze that only an annoyed wife would give plastered on your face.

Last weekend, there was an emergency. Apparently, during one of their out-of-school jogs around the area, Hinata and Kageyama, expectedly, fell into one of the mud pits. This leads to Ukai having to take two of the spare school uniforms in your classroom, which you let him. What you didn’t know was the fact the principal was keeping tabs over these.

He crossed his arms over your chest, looking off to the side as he tried to explain, tumbling over some of the words “W-Well, you know I didn’t really had time to…wash it yet…with the store and the training and all…” His words sheepishly drawled across his lips.

You raised an eyebrow “Why did I know you would do that?”

“Oh, come on! I-I’ll wash it tomorrow, I promise! I’d even give it to the principal himself if you’re too busy!” He exclaims, rubbing the back of his head as he looks at you with a pleading look.

By this point, the boys are already snickering behind their back. Probably finding more ways to tease the both of you.

“Do you really think I’m stupid, Keishin?” You scoffed “I’m letting you do whatever so you better keep your word, you hear?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Noya suddenly perked up from his place “Why don’t we just wash it for you, Coach? You should focus on taking Mrs. (Y/N) out for dinner tonight. She seems pretty pissed.”

Daichi smacked the back of his head as soon as his words left his mouth. But the others couldn’t help but chuckle. It’s a bit of an inside joke to the students to ship the both of you together.

Ukai clicked his tongue at their antics “Hey, Noya, if you don’t zip your-”

“We were actually going to check out that new ramen place by the corner.” You quickly cut him off, leading to a lot of cheers and jeering among the gym.

Lots of “See? I told you they were dating!”, “Wait til everybody hears about this!”, and “I knew that the first time I saw Coach bring Mrs. (Y/N) a cup of coffee!”

Keishin had the brightest red on his cheeks, pinching the bridge of his nose. With all the (silly) bickering you do with your husband, it doesn’t hurt to tease him from time to time.

You turned back to the boys and furrowed your eyebrows “What do you mean dating? Didn’t you already know?”

A chorus of “Huh?” erupted from the team

You grabbed Keishin’s hand and held out the glinting wedding ring on his finger before putting up your hand in comparison “We’re married. For 3 years now. Ever wonder why we bicker so much?”

Needless to say word got out very, very quickly. And a string of new jokes by the Karasuno Volleyball Team were continuously thrown at Ukai every day.

“You made my life miserable.” He groaned, resting his head on your shoulder while you were on the couch, grading some of your students’ assignments “You should pay for that.”

“Don’t act like you don’t like it.”

“I don’t!”

You smirked to yourself, letting out a small chuckle. You ran your free hand over his hair, giving it a gentle massage “Alright, I’ll take it back. We’re divorced now, then?”

“No, God!” He’d shout, his head shooting up from your words as his eyebrows scrunched up together “You’re an asshole sometimes, you know that?”

You let out a low hum of amusement, turning to him with hearts in your eyes. “Sometimes, I wonder why I even let you put a ring on me.”

Ukai couldn’t understand how he can love someone more than he already does. He guesses you’re a living example of that.

513 notes · View notes

dragonslayer-5fanfiction · 18 days

Text

triple trouble, atsumu miya

pairing atsumu miya x f!reader word count 1.6k synopsis atsumu steals every reporters' attention as he introduces the media to his triplets during a post-game interview; or, more accurately, his triplets steal all the attention. like father, like sons. content contains domestic fluff, dad!atsumu, atsumu & reader are married and so in love, babies, mention of pregnancy more in this collection!

The flashes of cameras going off, the constant exclamations of “Miya! Miya!” coming from the crowd of journalists and reporters all vying for his attention, the fact that the foldout chairs they use for all these post-game interviews are harder on your ass than falling on asphalt — all of this is being handled with ease by a smug Atsumu Miya.

Or, normally all of this would be handled with ease by a smug Atsumu Miya.

But right now, the Atsumu Miya struggling to take a seat in the most uncomfortable chair known to man, dyed hair a mess, his usual trademark smirk replaced by furrowed brows and a look of concentration, doesn’t appear to be the godlike adversary on the court. In fact, he looks oddly human.

The cause of what has humbled this cocky athlete and reduced him to mere mortal man are the three chubby toddlers he’s cradling in his arms.

All of them are identical, from their chubby cheeks to their little grubby hands. Heads full of thick, dark brown hair (reminiscent of their father’s natural color) poke out from Atsumu’s hold, and the eighteen-month-olds’ eyes are all full of childlike wonder as they watch the crowd, confused as to who all these people are.

After finally getting settled into his seat, Atsumu addresses the crowd casually, as if he didn’t spend the last two minutes ensuring that his baby boys weren’t going to slip from his arms while he tried to prepare for this interview. Akimitsu is secured in his left arm, Akihiko in the right, leaving poor Akinari to cling onto Atsumu’s neck.

While athletes have been getting more comfortable with bringing their kids up on stage with them, no one has ever seen a professional athlete haul his three babies with him.

A fact that one reporter is more than happy to point out.

“Miya, wife put you on babysitting duty?” A male journalist calls out from the crowd. A few chuckles follow, but Atsumu just smiles at the mention of you.

“Nah. It’s not babysittin’ if they’re your damn kids, right? Besides, she deserves a break.” A few appreciative murmurs flutter through the crowd.

After the initial surprise of seeing identical triplets being carried in the MSBY Black Jackals’ setter’s arms, the reporters are back to business as usual. They’re all professionals — even if hearing Atsumu give them a great quote to use as a hook (“I respect Nakamura as a human bein’ but calling him a setter for a professional league volleyball team is an insult to setters everywhere.”) is followed by him cooing sweet words of affirmation to whichever of his sons happens to be babbling in his ears.

“Nakamura isn’t a very good player, is he, Akihiko?” No one outside of your family and his teammates have ever heard Atsumu sound so affectionate. His words are practically coated in sugar, and it’s hard to remember that he’s insulting another player in the league whenever he’s practically bumping noses with his toddler son when he says it.

Akihiko, most likely due to his father’s influence, lets out a stream of enthusiastic gurgles that Atsumu automatically translates to him being in complete agreement with him.

“Write that down.” He says to the crowd. “Even my baby knows he’s shit at the game.”

There’s a few more minutes of Atsumu answering the usual post-game questions, but halfway through one of his responses, Akinari loses his grip on Atsumu’s neck and is about to tumble to the floor before Atsumu’s reflexes kick in. You’ve made a joke once that you think Atsumu’s reflexes have become heightened after becoming a father; his athletic instincts have merged with the famous “dad reflexes” all fathers seem to be gifted with. (Atsumu tells reporters that this is why he keeps on becoming a better player; people think his family would hold him back, but once again, family is his greatest blessing.)

“Ya gotta hang onto me, buddy.” Atsumu can’t even pretend to be stern when he tells this to Akinari, who only smiles at him and exclaims something unintelligible. He shifts Akinari to his left arm, relaxes back in his seat, and is even excited to answer a question concerning his play style compared to Tobio Kageyama’s, but as he readjusts the two boys in his arms, Atsumu can’t help but startle at the fact that he has three kids. Not just two.

Momentarily panicked, he almost wants to ask why the hell no one told him one of his kids jumped ship but then he feels a tug on the bottom hem of his volleyball shorts.

Peering under the table, Atsumu is greeted with the sight of Akimitsu’s mischievous little face. He’s the oldest of the three and takes after Atsumu the most — meaning, he’s the cutest little nightmare there could ever be.

“Whatcha doin’ under the table, Mitsu?” Atsumu asks, and Akimitsu gives out a happy, gleeful shriek. He’s clapping his grubby hands together and cheering.

“Dada found me!”

“I did find ya, buddy.” Atsumu coos. “Now why don’t you come sit on daddy’s lap?”

After wrangling up all his kids once more, Atsumu sighs and looks up at the timer in front of him.

“I have enough time for one more question.” He tells the crowd.

“Are you excited to get out of here and get back home to the wife?”

“I’m always happy to come home to [Name]. If there’s a professional league for motherhood, she’s going into the hall of fame. I don’t know how she handles these fools by herself all day.”

Akihiko takes a tiny, chubby hand and smacks Atsumu in the face. Repeatedly.

“Home! Home!” His slaps get slightly more aggressive, but Atsumu’s received some serves with his face before, so it doesn’t really phase him. “Home! Mama!”

“Well, you heard the man.” Atsumu actually gives a genuine smile for the cameras. “We gotta head home.”

You’re applying your moisturizer in the bathroom despite the mirror being fogged up from the hot shower. It’s probably why you don’t anticipate strong arms wrapping themselves around your body, and you gasp before your muscle memory recognizes him. Your body easily relaxes against his, and you’re smiling as you ask your husband,

“Had a good day today?”

“We took ‘em in two straight sets. Slaughtered the other team to the point where it wasn’t even fair.” He angles his head just right so he can kiss you on the cheek, but you gently slap him away.

“I’m putting on moisturizer right now.”

“Great. My lips are dry.” He goes in for another kiss, and even though you’re giggling, trying to pull away from him, he still plants a peck on your soft skin. “Should I go for seconds, just for good measure?” He teases.

“Hmm, I guess so.”

“Oh? What’s with the change? Realize how much you can’t live without my touch?” He pulls you in closer to him, your back pressed firmly against his chest. He’s fresh out the shower, stray droplets of water greedily clinging onto his skin.

“Maybe.” You tilt your head back on the front of his shoulder so that you can see him. “You know your interview is trending on Twitter, right?”

“Oh, yeah? Bet Nakamura’s pissed.” Atsumu sounds too happy at the concept.

“No. There’s actually an interesting clip that keeps going around. Someone already used it as an intro for a thirst edit of you.”

You like it when Atsumu is thinking. There’s an adorable crease in between his furrowed brows, and you can practically see him going through the memory files in his brain, trying to figure out what could possibly be worthy of inspiring an edit of him.

“You seriously don’t know?” You’re laughing at him, and it’s the sweetest sound in the world. Atsumu doesn’t take kindly to being the butt of a joke, but from the moment he saw you, he knew he’d do anything to stay by your side, even becoming a fucking court jester if that’s what it took.

You reach for your phone on the counter, taking a few seconds to load up the fan edit you have favorited.

He’s burying his face in your hair, hiding away as he hears the audio of him going now why don’t you come sit on daddy’s lap playing on a loop. He groans when you let it replay, uncharacteristically shy as you keep telling him to watch it.

“The comments are the best part, though, baby!” You haven’t been able to stop giggling at jackingthejackalsoff’s very bold and very true statement of yeah, if i were [name], i’d pop out triplets for him too tf 😭🙏.

As Atsumu’s hands travel to rest against the growing swell of your belly, you tease him. “So, when the twins are born, do you think you’ll have enough space in your arms to haul all five of our kids, or should we finally use that baby chest carrier Shoyo gifted us?”

“I can carry all of ‘em and you onto that stage.” He regrets making this smug remark whenever you slightly drop your teasing tone and use what he dubs The Mom Voice on him.

“Oh? If that’s true, then why did it take you so long to realize Akimitsu crawled out of your arms while you were busy calling your opponents scrubs?”

“Have I ever told you what a wonderful mother you are? And this moisturizer! Wow, I don’t know what you’ve been doing with your skin, baby, but keep it up.” He’s peppering your face with more kisses, hurriedly trying to change the subject, and you gladly let him.

886 notes · View notes

dragonslayer-5fanfiction · 18 days

Text

you wouldn't be the first renegade to need somebody, atsumu miya

pairing atsumu miya x reader word count 1.4k synopsis love for you is holding him; love for him is allowing himself to be held. content contains hurt/comfort, intimacy, atsumu-centric, insecurities, unconditional love, showering together but make it sfw

The stinging spray of scalding hot water from the showerhead should be enough to get him to leave, but he barely registers the pain, can’t seem to bring himself to feel the heat, can’t seem to bring himself to feel anything.

No — that’s not entirely true. He feels one thing.

Devastated.

Everyone knows Atsumu Miya likes to talk shit on and off the court. It’s his thing, his trademark, his brand. Lots of athletes like to talk big about how they’re going to win; who the hell is going to support a guy who walks onto the court with a well, it’ll be alright if I lose.

He’s staring down at the tiles of the shower, can somewhat register the persistent barrage of water spraying onto his back as he has one hand splayed on the wall, shoulders slumped, water dripping from his hair and running into his vision, making everything blurry.

Don’t blink, he tries to demand of himself, but the issue is, we can’t always control our bodies. He has to shut his eyes, just for a brief second, and in that second, it all comes back to him.

The opposing team at set point. His team depending on him to serve. One point left. Only one chance. He can feel the stadium’s crowd holding their breath, can feel the lack of air in the atmosphere, can hear how loudly the blood is rushing to his head. Dizzy. Dazed. He doesn’t give into pressure, not anymore, not ever. Doesn’t feel performance anxiety, knows better than to try to attempt something flashy just for the glory of a good story to tell.

Give ‘em a serve they don’t have a chance of receiving, he demands of himself.

The final seconds of the match all come to him like stills from a movie, each frame another devastating blow to his ego, his self-worth, his very being. The ball is in the air, he’s bending his knees to prepare for the jump, his hand making contact with the ball. Something’s off, he can feel it upon first contact, but it’s too late to save, too late for him to change anything.

The ball lands.

On his side of the net.

He’s frozen in place as he stares ahead. He can tell the other team is cheering, slapping each other on their backs, and he can hear the blow of a whistle, the celebration from the crowd. But all he sees is the ball. All he sees is his failure.

Atsumu has spent a good portion of his volleyball career knowing that he plays the game better than most. It’s why he feels so comfortable talking about the lack of skills other players display. It’s why he always has something to say at practice, on the court, during a post-game interview.

And he knows he makes mistakes. He knows that he’s only human. But a bad serve in the middle of a game isn’t as crushing as knowing that he is the sole reason as to why the Black Jackals’ season is going to be ending early.

Where did he go wrong? He did everything perfectly, did everything the way he usually does. Why couldn’t he perform? Why did he let his team down? Why—

“Atsumu?”

He doesn’t look up, and all you can see is the sad shape of his outline from the foggy glass door of the shower. You know that Atsumu probably wants nothing more than to be alone right now, but you can’t help but worry when fifteen minutes have gone by, and you could still hear the shower running. That’s your first sign that something is wrong.

Atsumu is a notoriously quick showerer, to an almost concerning degree. When you first started living together, you debated planning elaborate tricks to see whether or not he was even using soap. (Which, in hindsight, was just flatout silly; he walks out the shower smelling overwhelming of his Axe Men’s 3-in-1 and Old Spice deodorant.)

No — the first sign that something is wrong would be his uncharacteristic silence on the trip back home. He hadn’t responded to your it’s okay, baby, you’ll get ‘em next season. Instead, he just looked out the window, the devastated expression on his face silencing you as well. Even when he lost to Kageyama, he had been disappointed, upset, but still talking big about how he was going to crush the Adlers next time around. He had then made a comment about Tobio’s stupid haircut, and that’s when you told him if he doesn’t have anything nice to say, he shouldn’t say anything at all.

Now, you’d give anything to have him say something. Something for you to work with.

“Atsumu?” You call out for him again, worried when you don’t see his figure moving.

Pathetic. Atsumu thinks that’s what he is. A loser, a fucking scrub, a failure. Even if his teammates won’t admit it, the media will. And what then? Will you think that about him too? It’d be the truth, wouldn’t it? Isn’t that why you’re in the bathroom now? To pity him?

He’s too busy tearing himself down to react to the distinct sound of you sliding back the glass door of the shower so you can enter it. There’s a brief burst of the cool air of the bathroom hitting his exposed body, but it evaporates the moment you shut the door.

“Oh, ‘Tsumu.” You whisper it, and he wants to tell you that he’s not fucking fragile. That he’s not going to shatter into a million pieces if you just raise your voice, if you tell him how you really feel about him. He doesn’t move, doesn’t turn around to face you. He doesn’t want to. He can’t.

His skin is red from the heat of the water, his back staring at you angrily, hurt. The skin’s going to need some time to heal, and you turn the faucet, lowering the temperature of the water.

“Turn around, honey. Please?” You’ve never seen Atsumu so upset before, so quiet. You wait several minutes for him to actually do as you request, and you think it’s only because he wants a way to get rid of you sooner.

You don’t say anything to him as you reach for his shampoo, letting it lather in your hands before you give him a pleading look, one that has him leaning down so you can reach his hair. It feels nice, he thinks, the way you’re shampooing his hair. You’re gentle with your movements, and it almost relaxes him.

You use your body wash on him. Massage the suds into his skin, but you’re mindful of the amount of pressure you apply. You know which areas of his skin is more sensitive from its exposure to the hot water, and you are careful with the spots of his body that he had chosen to be negligent with.

“Am I so fuckin’ worthless that you have to do somethin’ as simple as bathing me?” He’s not angry at you. He might spit out the words — words that come out sounding all raw and scratchy, like they had to personally claw themselves from his throat — but the anger is not directed at you. It’s at himself.

“Look at me.”

His eyes are glossy, wet, shiny, and you know it’s not because of the shower. You’ve never seen Atsumu cry before, and you’re not sure what you’re supposed to do. So, you do what feels right. You whisper his name softly, tenderly, and it’s this tenderness, your unwavering softness, your unconditional love, that breaks him. That makes him feel safe enough to break. That makes him think of the possibility that you’ll take these jagged pieces of him and piece them back together for him, with him.

He’s so much bigger than you. You tell him all the time that he’s larger than life, and he thinks about that comment as he lets himself sink into your open arms, as he lets himself be held. He has never felt smaller in his life, and in your embrace, he buries his face into your shoulder, letting his warm tears mix in with the water already on your body.

“I don’t know how you can still look at me.” He mutters, and every word is spoken onto your skin, tiny blades striking you.

Atsumu isn’t sure what he wants to hear, isn’t even certain that there’s anything that could be said to ease his devastation, but melts into you even more so when you tell him,

“Atsumu, I thought you already knew that nothing can change the way I look at you.”

437 notes · View notes

dragonslayer-5fanfiction · 18 days

Text

I read a headcannon that Mattsun's family owns the funeral home, and he didn't have a lot of friends due the culture and the way death is viewed in Japan. Then he became friends with VBC, and they didn't care.

Now imagine you're a foreigner, and met Iwa at college. You move to Japan and Iwa sets you up on a date with Mattsun. He avoids the topic of work everytime you bring it up, and refuses to tell you. He really likes you and doesn't want it to ruin what you have. You give him space, and he finally tells you what he does. You explain that death is viewed differently, and you honestly thought he was a spy. He laughs, and falls for you even more. Now he knows you're the one.

Just a thought I had, and I might write it out.

#mattsun x reader #matsukawa issei #matsukawa fluff #sharkie talks #haikyuu fluff #i love this man

26 notes · View notes

dragonslayer-5fanfiction · 19 days

Text

Supportive Boyfriend Oikawa

Word count: 370

Warnings: none

A/N: I've had this in my docs for MONTHS and just finished dit today lol.

Oikawa, who loves how bad at volleyball you are, he thinks it’s adorable. The way you can barely get one serve over the net and struggle to bump the ball to him, wincing and rubbing your wrists afterwards. He loves watching your cute little pout after seeing him give a perfect serve effortlessly with a teasing smirk. “Tooru…you’re showing off on purpose” he closes the distance between you two gently, taking your hands and flipping them to leave kisses on your sore wrists.

Oikawa who loves that no matter how many times you just can’t get it, you never stop trying to learn “I can’t be dating Oikawa Tooru and NOT know how to serve a volleyball” you told him with a tiny grin. Oikawa matches your grin with a mischievous one of his own, scooping you up by your thighs as you gasp and cling to him “Tooru!! What’re you-” he cuts you off with a kiss to your nose. “I can’t be dating a cutie like you and NOT sweep you of your feet”

Oikawa, who loves taking care of you, spoiling you rotten, ditching the team and taking you to get dinner after his games. Ignoring the cheering fans to race over to you and kiss you softly, pulling back to grin at you after you tell him how proud you are. The grin turns devious before he pulls you into a sweaty hug, making you groan and squirm. “Tooru, you’re soo sweaty right now baby” you whine and the brunette only beams because he’s your sweaty baby.

Oikawa, who surprises you at your apartment with dinner and your favourite snacks when you’re stressed. He sits with you and listens silently, pushing food in front of you and reminding you to eat as you tell him how stressed you are and how much work you have to do. Tooru reads quietly by your side, stopping to rub your shoulders from time to time while you finish assignments and study. “I’m proud of you [Y/N]” the brunette stood behind your desk chair and kissed the top of your head.

Just Oikawa, who’s so supportive and loving, but definitely not above being a little shit when he wants to.

-miksy63 <3

296 notes · View notes

dragonslayer-5fanfiction · 20 days

Text

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐘 — miya osamu

based off this thought i had about atsumu unintentionally hooking his twin up with his future wife skibidi doo bap

I'm g'na kill him when I catch him, Osamu thinks, already coming up with a sure-fire plan to wipe his twin off the face of the earth for humiliating him like this.

And then, I'll go back in time and absorb him from the womb.

Usually, he could take whatever bullshit Tsumu threw his way—but this time, the star setter had gone too far.

Osamu literally feels like he's going to die; hands clammy and mind spinning in circles when he sees your confused expression, his number on a scrap of paper dangling uselessly in between his lax fingers.

"I... I'm sorry, Miya-san. I think you misunderstood..."

Your eyelashes flutter against your cheekbones, pearly white teeth digging into your lower lip as you chew on it in anxiety.

Thank fuck it's almost closing time and none of his regulars are here to see him fumble this badly.

He blinks, retracts his hand, and number with a forced smile, even when he feels like turning around and strangling his brother, who is, of course, dying of silent laughter in the kitchen.

"Ah." He scratches the back of his head, pink dusting apparent on his boyishly handsome face. "I'm sorry for putting you in this position, L/N-san."

Osamu struggles to control his cresting shame, forcing a smile.

"Let me make you a house special as an apology for my forwardness. I'm truly am sorry for putting you in this position."

Before he could turn and retreat back into the kitchen with his tail tuck in between his legs, you call out a high-pitched, "Wait!"

He turns, and doesn't expect your face to warm, eyes darting to the clean counter as you tap your white-painted nails on the lacquered wood.

"Wh-what did the cashier actually tell you, Miya-san?"

"The cashier?"

You nod. "The blonde man. Kinda looks like you. I told him to send the chef my compliments but I think he must've given you a different impression."

Oh. Tsumu.

Osamu tries to grin without baring his teeth too much, and as if knowing his bluff was exposed, Atsumu chokes back his chortles, ducking into the kitchen to hide.

"Ah," Osamu kisses his teeth. He debates not telling you the truth, but since he's already made an ass of himself, he might as well commit to the schtick. "Said to me a babe told him to tell me she thinks I'm hot. S'all."

If it was possible, your face warms even more.

"O-oh. Well... he isn't wrong."

"Yeah, he was really out of line with that—wait, what?"

Osamu backtracks, unsure if he's heard you right.

Your mortification is contagious, especially when you duck your head again and mumble: "He's not wrong, Miya-san." Now, it's your turn to be forward and courageous. "I... I think you're really cute."

The black shirt he has on stretches across his broad pecs, highlighting his muscular build and those deliciously impressive biceps and traps. A simple cap the same color hides his dark hair, and even under the fluorescent lights, no one could deny how much of a looker Miya Osamu is.

Right now, he has a choice: flounder and fumble you, or, take this chance to ask you out.

While he malfunctions with indecision, you remove the burden of choosing from him, reaching forward to grab his number written hastily on a scrap of paper with a small smile.

Still shy, both of you couldn't look the other in the eye, the implications of your actions giving Osamu whiplash.

"O-okay, uh, thanks," his deep, baritone takes on a shade of embarrassment.

In your sundress and pretty smile, you take his breath away as you stand, tucking his number right into your small purse.

"I'll call you then, Miya-san. See you soon."

The second the door closes behind your retreating figure, Atsumu's grating voice pierces through the daze in Osamu's mind like nails running down chalkboard, his face peeking from behind the kitchen door.

"Damn, I can't believe that worked. See Samu? S'wasn't so bad, huh? You finally got a date and I can get you out of this kitch—h-hey Samu—hey! S-Stop—stop chasing me!"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ 🎀 dawn says: haikyuu debut lessgoooo .... rbs and love are very much appreciated <3

©️ intellectual property of lalunanymph. do not copy, repost, claim as your own or change up the sentence structures and characters

466 notes · View notes

dragonslayer-5fanfiction · 22 days

Text

A drabble based off Samu's part of this post cuz I miss little haruki

summary: haruki has to hang out with his uncle 'tsumu while his parents are at the hospital

Atsumu and Haruki have been staring each other down since Osamu dropped him off ten minutes ago. Haruki has seen his uncle 'Tsumu many times before, even on TV, but never has his uncle babysat him.

"So kid... what do ya wanna do?" Usually when Atsumu's with his nephew it's under the supervision of you or Osamu. Being completely alone with him is new to both of them.

"Um. I don't know, do ya have any toys?" Your carbon copy asks.

"Nah, I don't play with toys, I'ma grown man." He explains to his nephew. The small child doesn't like that response, "When I'm a grown up I'm gonna play with toys!"

Atsumu ultimately forgets that Haruki is a little boy with childish ideas, so he chuckles at his statement.

"No ya won't, kid."

"Yes I will!"

"No ya won't."

"Yes I wi-"

"Hey! How 'bout we play some volleyball, huh?" The blond athlete realizes there is absolutely no point in fighting with a six year old.

"I hate volleyball, it's boring." A loud gasp escapes Atsumu's lips and he feels like he's been shot right in the chest.

"Yer lying, right? Haha that was pretty funny, made me laugh." He refuses to believe that any nephew or niece of his would hate volleyball. He has to be joking...

"'m serious! Papa took me to a volleyball camp last year 'n I hated it! Everyone was so mean to me 'n they kept telling me I couldn't hold the ball for myself." Well, there's the problem. As a six year old everything is about you, you, you. So, Atsumu assumes Haruki didn't like it because he wasn't the center of attention.

"Let me tell ya a lil' something. I'm gonna go get a volleyball and I'll tell ya this story while we're outside." Haruki's obviously skeptical of what his uncle plans on doing but he'll go along with it for right now.

The little boy sets his Sonic themed backpack down by the front door, when he makes sure all his toys are secure in his bag, he slowly stomps his way to the sliding glass doors that lead to his uncle's backyard.

There's a net that's way too big for Haruki to hit anything over it outside, which immediately discourages him. Atsumu soon returns with a volleyball in his hands, Haruki would assume with all that money his uncle makes he'd have a nicer looking volleyball, but the one he's holding is all beat up and dirty.

"Are ya too poor to get a better ball?" Atsumu doesn't even take it to offense because he knows Haruki is genuinely curious and not trying to be rude.

"Nah, this ball is older than ya are. 's the ball me n yer papa used to use when we were first startin' out." That seems to ignite a new interest in the little boy, well, if his excited gasps were anything to go by.

"I'ma give it to ya so ya'll have somethin' to use when you play." This isn't enough to convince Haruki to play volleyball but Atsumu's not done just yet. He still has to tell him the story, but first they have to set up the small net, so Haruki can hit over it.

Atsumu opens up his shed to find the little beat up box that contained he and Osamu's old volleyball net from their elementary school days.

"Woah! That net is the perfect size for me!" His nephew screeches in excitement.

"Yeah 's also older than ya." The two set up the net and Atsumu teaches Haruki the form to receive. He tosses the small boy a few so he can get used to receiving.

"Okay, so, I wanted to tell ya that, volleyball ain't all about you, but at the same time it is," Haruki doesn't say anything in return. No little kid wants to hear that everything isn't about them.

"I had trouble understandin' that m'self when I was growin' up. I thought- nah I knew I was the shit so I acted prideful 'bout it." His nephew gasps at him saying a bad word, but he doesn't interrupt his story.

"'n I really don't care who likes me and who doesn't. I was like that back then too, so I never really had anyone besides 'Samu to play with. Which was fine when we were young, but in a real game, ya need six people." Haruki nods his head to let his uncle know he's listening.

"I had to realize that volleyball was a team effort 'n I couldn't play the whole game, m'self," He pauses for a second to bump the ball back the Haruki.

"That was also when I started to realize, it really was all about me, 'cause if yer a good setter all yer hitters gotta rely on ya. They need ya to set to 'em." Haruki pauses for a second.

"What if I don't wanna set? I wanna be a hitter like papa was." Atsumu smiles at him.

"It applies to hitters too, if yer a good hitter then yer setter will most likely set to ya the most often, 'cause ya can score." Haruki's eyes light up with a new sense of hope.

"Will you teach me more about volleyball, Uncle 'Tsumu?" Atsumu's earlier dread has completely left his body, his nephew didn't hate volleyball, he hated not being the center of attention, just like Atsumu did.

The two go back into the house when the sun is almost down. Haruki had learned so much from his uncle, and he was excited to show all of it to you and Osamu.

Atsumu goes to call his brother to realize that he had missed 4 calls from him and a few texts with pictures attached.

"Haruki! Hurry up 'n get in here! Yer sister is born!!" Haruki comes running in with his new (old) volleyball.

"Lemme see her!!!" He tries to grab his uncle's phone.

"Be patient, ya little gremlin." Atsumu pulls up the picture and hands his phone to tiny, grubby hands. You look very tired, but a small smile graces your face and you're holding a tiny little bundle in your arms. The next couple of pictures are Osamu holding his daughter too.

"Ew, why is she so wrinkly?" Atsumu tries and fails to hold in a chuckle. His nephew's face is all scrunched up and disgusted.

"'s 'cause she was just born. She's been swimming 'round in yer ma's belly for the past nine months. Kinda like how ya stay in the bath for too long and yer fingers start to get wrinkly." Atsumu explains, Haruki's not convinced, at all.

"Ya looked the same way when ya were born." Haruki shakes his head so fast Atsumu wouldn't be surprised if his head popped off.

"Nuh-uh. I was never wrinkly!" Atsumu is quick to go through his albums to find the one of Haruki's birth.

"Yea ya did, look." Haruki takes a good look at the picture before jumping up in surprise.

"EWWW I WAS WRINKLY!!!!" He starts running around like a crazy animal on the loose, screams leaving his lips.

Atsumu snorts, "We were all wrinkly babies at one point." The setter also learns how rewarding being an uncle is.

102 notes · View notes