— I TOLD YOU IM PREGNANT ! multiple
➥ pr : timeskip!atsumu x fem!reader; timeskip!bokuto x fem!reader; timeskip!suna x reader; timeskip!kageyama x fem!reader; timeskip!kuroo x reader
➥ syn : “I told you I’m pregnant” but not the prank
➥ tw : mention of pregnancy, and fluff
➥ a/n : found this TikTok and thought about how cute it was soooo here’s a fic :)
The parking lot was quiet save for the distant sounds of volleyball practice ending. Atsumu had just finished a grueling training session with the MSBY Black Jackals, his blonde hair still damp with sweat as he slipped into the passenger seat of your car.
You were on a phone call, and he respectfully stayed silent, pulling out a water bottle and taking a long drink. His eyes were focused on the steering wheel, giving you privacy.
"Oh my god, guess what?" you suddenly exclaimed to whoever was on the other end of the line. Atsumu's ears perked up, curious about your excited tone.
Then, clear as day, he heard those words: "I think I'm pregnant."
Before he could process what he'd just heard, you had already stepped out of the car, closing the door behind you and walking a few paces away to continue your conversation in what seemed like a calmer environment.
Atsumu sat frozen, eyes wide as saucers, still gripping his water bottle. The silence of the car was suddenly overwhelming.
"BABY!" he finally called out, his voice a mix of shock and excitement. Then, realizing how he might have just potentially spooked you, he muttered, "What the fuckk..."
After a few moments of complete silence, Atsumu started talking to himself, his voice rising with each sentence.
"A baby? Me? A FATHER?" He pressed his palms against his cheeks, eyes wide. "Holy shit, holy shit HOLY SHIT, WAOUH." he slap the steering wheel.
He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against the steering wheel. "Oh my god."
Then, suddenly remembering you were still outside, he rolled down the window.
"BABY!" he called out dramatically. "COME BACK IN THE CAR!"
When you didn't immediately respond, he continued his monologue.
"What if it's a boy? He's gonna be an AMAZING setter. Or a girl! She'll probably be just like her mama - smart and way too good for me, WOW" he chuckled to himself and slapped the dashboard.
Another pause. Then, louder: "HEY! ARE YOU DONE WITH YOUR CALL YET?"
He drummed his fingers nervously on the dashboard, then muttered, "Breathe, Atsumu. Breathe."
"BAAAABE!" he called out again, drawing out the word. "I HEARD SOMETHING INTERESTING OUT HERE!"
The parking lot remained quiet except for Atsumu's increasingly dramatic calls and his own nervous mumbling.
The MSBY Black Jackals' practice had just wrapped up, and Bokuto Koutarou was sprawled in the passenger seat of your car, chugging water after an intense training session. His wild hair was slightly dampened with sweat, sticking out in different directions as always.
You were on a phone call, and Bokuto, being considerate for once, sat quietly. His golden eyes were focused on a volleyball poster in the car, giving you privacy while he hydrated.
"Oh my god, guess what?" you suddenly exclaimed to whoever was on the other end of the line.
Bokuto's ears perked up, his attention immediately drawn to your excited tone.
Then, clear as day, he heard those words: "I think I'm pregnant.”
The timing could not have been more perfect - or disastrous. Mid-gulp, Bokuto's eyes went comically wide. The water he was drinking immediately went down the wrong pipe.
Water sprayed everywhere - the windshield, the dashboard, his volleyball jersey. He was a walking (or sitting) water fountain of shock.
Before he could fully process what he'd heard, you had already stepped out of the car, closing the door behind you and walking a few paces away to continue your conversation in a calmer environment.
Bokuto sat there, partially drenched, eyes frozen in a state of pure, unadulterated shock. His mouth hung open slightly, one hand still gripping the water bottle, water dripping from his chin.
"Huh?" he whispered to the empty car. "Did I... what?"
"PREGNANT?" he suddenly yelled, his voice cracking. "PREGNANT?!"
His hands started moving frantically, gesturing to absolutely nothing. One moment they were pressed against his cheeks, the next running through his wild hair, causing it to stick up even more dramatically.
"OH MY GOD," he muttered, then louder, "OH. MY. GOD." he slammed a hand on his armrest.
He looked around the car, as if the vehicle itself might have some answers. His volleyball bag stared back at him silently.
"Am I hearing things?" he asked the bag. The bag, unsurprisingly, offered no response.
He pinched himself. Hard.
"OW!" Bokuto yelped, then immediately whispered, "Nope. Not dreaming."
Another moment of silence.
Then, with the energy that only Bokuto could muster: "BAAAAABE!" he called out the window, "WHAT KIND OF BOMB ARE YOU DROPPING RIGHT NOW?!"
When no immediate response came, he started talking to himself, his voice rising and falling with dramatic flair.
"Pregnant. P-R-E-G-N-A-N-T," he spelled out slowly, as if the letters might reveal some hidden meaning. "WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN RIGHT NOW?"
He began bouncing in the car seat, unable to contain his nervous energy. The water bottle rolled onto the floor, leaving a small puddle.
"BABE!" he called again, pressing his face dramatically against the car window. "DETAILS! I NEED DETAILS!"
His breath fogged up the glass, creating a comical circle of condensation.
"Did she say 'think'?" he muttered to himself. "THINK? What does THINK mean? IS THAT A MAYBE? A PROBABLY? A DEFINITELY?"
Bokuto's hands flew to his head again, gripping his hair. "I AM DYING HERE!"
"DYING!" he repeated to the empty car, for emphasis.
Outside, you continued your phone call, completely unaware of the hurricane of emotions happening inside the vehicle.
The parking lot was quiet as Suna Rintarou slid into the passenger seat of your car. Fresh from EJP Raijin practice, he looked effortlessly cool, his hair slightly tousled. Without a word, he leaned over and placed a soft kiss on your cheek, then sat back quietly, respecting that you were on a phone call.
You were animatedly talking to someone, and Suna remained silent, pulling out his phone and scrolling through it casually.
"Oh my god, guess what?" you suddenly exclaimed to whoever was on the other end of the line. Suna's eyes flickered up momentarily, catching your excitement.
Then, clear as day, he heard those words: "I think I'm pregnant."
Suna's thumb froze mid-scroll. His eyes widened almost imperceptibly - the closest thing to a dramatic reaction he'd ever show.
Before he could process what he'd heard, you had already stepped out of the car, closing the door behind you and walking a few paces away to continue your conversation in what seemed like a calmer environment.
Suna sat there. Completely. Absolutely. Still.
"Pregnant?" he whispered to himself, his usual deadpan tone replaced by a hint of uncertainty.
His phone slowly lowered. One perfectly arched eyebrow raised.
"Pregnant," he repeated, softer this time. Then, slightly louder, "WHEN?"
He began mentally retracing every single moment of potential... opportunity.
"Okay, okay, let's think," Suna muttered, now talking to himself with increasing intensity. "Last month's beach trip? No, we were careful. That one night after Atsumu's birthday party? Hmm..."
He started counting on his fingers, his normally composed face now a map of concentration and mild panic.
"Valentine's Day?" he questioned the car's dashboard. "The New Year's party? That weekend at my parents' place? No I didn’t finished inside…"
Each memory was examined with the precision of a detective, his eyes darting back and forth as if reviewing mental surveillance footage.
"WAIT," he suddenly exclaimed, "THE CAMPING TRIP?"
"No, we definitely used condoms on the camping trip," he answered himself, then realized he was having a full conversation with no one.
"BABE?" he called out the window, a hint of desperation creeping into his typically cool voice. "WHEN? HOW? DETAILS?"
When no immediate response came, he continued his internal investigation.
"Is this even possible?" Suna mumbled. "Am I dreaming? Did Atsumu spike my water bottle with something?"
He pinched himself. Hard.
Another moment of silence.
Then, with a mix of confusion and mild hysteria: "BAAAAABE!" he called again, pressing his forehead dramatically against the car window, leaving a small fog patch. "I NEED A FUCKING TIMELINE!"
Outside, you continued your phone call, completely unaware of the hurricane of calculations and mild existential crisis happening inside the vehicle.
Suna's mind was racing. One moment he was scrolling through his phone after practice, and the next? Potentially becoming a father.
"Pregnant," he whispered again, this time with a slightly hysterical chuckle. "Me. Potentially. A dad."
He looked at his reflection in the car window. Studied it.
"I don't look like a dad," Suna declared to his reflection. "I look like... me."
"WHEN?" he shouted to the universe, then immediately lowered his voice.
The parking lot of the Schweiden Adlers volleyball stadium was quiet as Tobio Kageyama slid into the passenger seat, unwrapping an energy bar. Fresh from practice with his Italian team, he was still wearing his training gear, a light sheen of sweat covering his forehead.
You were on a phone call, speaking rapid Italian, and Kageyama remained silent, munching on his bar and staring straight ahead, giving you privacy.
"Oh mio Dio, indovina un po'!" (“Oh my god. Guess what?”) you suddenly exclaimed to whoever was on the other end of the line. Kageyama's ears perked up, always attuned to the slightest change in your tone.
Then, clear as day, he heard those words: "Credo di essere incinta." (“I think I’m pregnant”)
Mid-bite, Kageyama froze. The energy bar hung halfway to his mouth, crumbs scattered across his training shorts.
He slowly turned to look at you, one hand outstretched as if to stop you, but you had already stepped out of the car, closing the door behind you and walking a few paces away to continue your conversation.
"Pregnant?" he whispered, then switched to your language, "Incinta?"
The energy bar slowly lowered. Kageyama blinked. Once. Twice.
"PREGNANT?" he suddenly blurted out, his voice cracking in a way that would make his former volleyball teammates laugh.
He stared at the windshield, processing.
His mind began racing, cataloging moments with the same intense focus he'd use to analyze volleyball plays.
"The weekend in Roma?" Kageyama mumbled. "No, we were careful."
He started counting on his fingers, his normally stoic face now a canvas of calculation and mild panic.
"BABE!" he called out, surprising himself with the volume. "What did you just say?"
When no immediate response came, he continued his internal monologue.
"If it's a boy," Kageyama suddenly announced to the empty car, "we're naming him Spike. No, wait. That's fuckin’ weird."
"Alessio?" he tried. "No. Too soft."
"MARCO!" he declared. Then immediately second-guessed himself. "No. Too common."
His finger tapped rapidly against the dashboard.
"Giovanni?" Kageyama muttered. "Sounds like a grandpa's name."
He nodded to himself, then looked around the car.
"BABE!" he called again. "I HAVE NAME SUGGESTIONS!"
Outside, you continued your Italian phone conversation, completely unaware of the naming convention crisis happening inside the vehicle.
Kageyama took a deep breath. Picked up the half-eaten energy bar. Put it down.
"Davide?" he whispered to himself. "Ew no. Definitely not Davide."
The naming continued, each name spoken with the same intensity he'd use to call a perfect set.
“HELL YEAH!” He enjoyed alone and slap his hand on the armrest. “BABEEE IS IT TRUE???”
The office parking was quiet as Kuroo Tetsurou slid into the passenger seat of your car, still wearing his crisp business suit. Fresh from a long day of work, he loosened his tie and pulled out his phone.
You were on a phone call, and Kuroo sat quietly, scrolling through emails and occasionally adjusting his perfectly styled hair.
"Oh my god, guess what?" you suddenly exclaimed to whoever was on the other end of the line. Kuroo's eyes flickered up, catching the excitement in your voice.
Then, clear as day, he heard those words: "I think I'm pregnant."
Kuroo's phone stopped mid-scroll.
"Wait, WHAT?" he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
Before he could fully process what he'd heard, you had already stepped out of the car, closing the door behind you and walking a few paces away to continue your conversation.
"BABE!" Kuroo called out, his perfectly professional demeanor cracking. "BAAAAABE!"
He stared out the window, one hand still holding his phone, the other gripping his briefcase like it could somehow explain this situation.
"COME BACK HERE!" he shouted, pressing his suited arm against the car window, leaving a comical wrinkle in his crisp white shirt.
Another moment of silence.
"Okay, okay, okay," Kuroo started talking to himself, his business executive brain trying to process this information. "Pregnant. PREGNANT. When? How? WHAT?"
He began counting on his fingers, his analytical mind kicking into overdrive.
"The weekend getaway? No, we were careful. That dinner date? Fuck she was pretty that night…Hmm..." Each memory was examined with the precision of a corporate strategy meeting.
"BABE!" he called again, louder this time. "I’M SUPPOSED TO BE THE FIRST TO KNOW THIS!"
When no response came, he did the most dramatic thing a corporate Kuroo could do in this situation.
He started honking the car horn.
Short bursts. Long bursts. A symphony of confusion that would definitely get him a complaint from HR if this was happening in the office.
"IF YOU DON'T COME BACK RIGHT NOW," he shouted to the empty car and the parking lot, "I'M GOING TO…oh fuck…" he slide a hand down his face and stop it on his mouth.
"Pregnant," he whispered, then adjusted his glasses. Then louder: "PREGNANT?!"
His perfectly styled hair was now standing on end, looking like he'd been electrocuted by corporate panic.
"I SWEAR TO GOD," Kuroo announced to absolutely no one, "BABE COME BACK!"
Outside, you continued your phone call, completely unaware of the hurricane of emotions and constant honking happening inside the vehicle.
And then, suddenly, it hit him.
"Oh my god," Kuroo whispered, color draining from his face.
He slumped back in the seat, took a deep breath, and then—
Ⓒkiesbrainjuice all rights reserved. please to not plagiarize, repost, or translate !
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