𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: Y/n, a 22 year old successful model is tired of the tabloids shaming her about her dating status when she’s seen out with her friends. Unsure of what to do to stop the gossip, Oikawa suggests a fake boyfriend. Fortunately, Kenma knows the perfect person who’d go for an idea as stupid as that one.
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Alcohol (a drunk person with hostility)
𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 … 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 … 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭
“I’m so sorry, I really thought I could try this recipe out and have it succeed,” Kuroo apologizes sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.
A light giggle leaves your mouth as you stare at the blackened oil burnt to the pan accompanied by charred garlic and half charred onions. It was an honest attempt to make a favorite dish of yours, but he had the pan set too high after an accidental misread of the recipe. In his defense, you look awfully cute peeking over his phone trying to get an idea of what he’s making while he’s hiding the screen from you. Waves of laughter filling the kitchen, a light bouncing in your eyes as you look at him, it’s easy to forget what heat the pan should have been on.
“It’s okay babe,” you hum, pulling your phone out to check the ETA of your sushi order, “it’ll be here soon it says,” you reply, clicking off the screen as Kuroo runs the cold water into the pan.
Your arms slip behind him as he grabs the sponge, trying to wash off the burnt ingredients from the pan. A smile is on his face as he leans into the embrace, mumbling beneath his breath.
“Good thing I didn’t prep all the ingredients,” Kuroo jokes, warmth filling his chest at the small laugh you emit against his shirt.
“Just let it soak, we can worry about that later,” you offer, kissing the back of his shoulder as he hums faintly.
“I’ll get as much as I can off before soaking it and you can go choose us a movie?” Kuroo mumbles, turning his head over his shoulder to peer at you, who nods and reluctantly pulls back away from him.
Shuffling into the living room, you turn on the TV as a knock on the door fills the apartment. Your eyebrows furrowed. The food couldn’t be here, you had just checked it. But, in the event it was, you walk over to the door; unlocking it to see Atsumu with red eyes and alcohol staining his clothes. Your eyes widened, watching his eyes well with water.
“I know I said I’d take space, but I miss ya so much,” Atsumu slurs, pulling you in for a hug.
Alcohol in his breath made your eyes sting as you hesitantly hug him back. You missed him, your heart hurt to see him at your doorstep drunk. He’s never been someone to drink, never been someone to spend his nights late at a bar.
You pull back, patting his chest, smiling faintly and warmly up at him.
“Let me call you a cab okay?”
“Everything okay?” Kuroo calls out, walking around to the living room with a towel drying off his hands.
The warm look in Atsumu’s eyes change as he shoves his way past you to get in. Panic nestling in your body as you follow behind quickly, grabbing Atsumu’s shoulder who didn’t look back at you as he spoke.
“Is this him?” He gestures with his hand at Kuroo, who slung the towel over his shoulder.
“Atsumu, please,” you plead softly, tugging gently at his shoulder.
He could never scare you. Atsumu would do nothing to put you in harm’s way, but you also never have seen him upset like this before.
“Yeah, I’m him, I’m Kuroo,” Kuroo replies in your stead, you cast a pleading gaze over at him to help you and he returns an assuring nod.
“Ya stole her from me, and to be honest, I’m not sure what she’s seeing in ya,” Atsumu taunts, making you step in front of him to block in front of him.
“‘Tsumu, stop please, you’re drunk, you’re not thinking straight. You don’t mean this,” you reason, tears welling in your eyes as the mean gaze is downcasted in your direction.
“No, actually, I mean this. What do you see in him you don’t see in me? He can’t be funnier than I am, I’m nicer to look at, I care about ya more than anyone, what is it, Y/n?” Atsumu spits.
A few tears slip down your cheeks before Kuroo steps in front of you. You see his jaw locked in anger, hand between the two men to keep Atsumu from approaching any closer.
“You’re upsetting her, stop. This situation has been very difficult for her, and you being mean to her to make her feel bad isn’t helping. Sit down, we’ll call you a cab, and you can talk to her in the morning once you’re sober,” Kuroo’s tone holds a serious graveness you’ve never heard before.
Atsumu rolls his eyes, and you hope to never see him drunk again. You’ve never seen Atsumu be hostile, and it hurts. It feels like something that’s your fault.
“I wasn’t talking to you, get out of my fucking face and shut up before I shut you up myself,” Atsumu threatens, trying to push past Kuroo to face you who wouldn’t budge.
“Atsumu please stop,” you plead shakily, but it gets ignored by Atsumu.
“Last time, sit down and we’ll call you a cab,” A warning slips past from Kuroo.
As your eyes are glued to the scene in front of you, it felt like Atsumu’s drunk movements were in slow motion as he lifted his fist to punch Kuroo in the face. Kuroo got a quick punch to his nose that made Atsumu stumble onto the floor, the blondes’ hands over his bloody nose. Your mouth agape as you watched Atsumu mumble incoherently as he leaned his head back against the wall, forgetting he was in the room with you both.
“He’ll be fine,” Kuroo whispers, turning around to wipe your tears that were streaming steadily.
You both turn to look over at Atsumu who leans against the wall, dozed off.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I’m so sorry,” your voice comes out shakily, Kuroo’s hands gently cupping your cheeks.
“Why are you apologizing? None of this is your fault,” he whispers, kissing your forehead.
“I feel responsible for him and I’m so sorry that this is how you first met him,” you sniffle, leaning your forehead against his shoulder.
“You aren’t responsible for him. He’s drunk, he’s having a hard time, so he resorted to acting like a dick. It’s not excusable what he did, but I understand he’s not in his right mind and when we meet again, I’ll consider that the first meeting,” Kuroo’s voice lulls out comfortingly, hand rubbing your back gently, “I have all night to cheer you up, and we still have dinner on the way, but first why don’t we get the big guy home over here. Have anyone we can call?”
You smile faintly, nodding as you pull away to pull out your phone. The obvious call would be his brother, but you don’t have his phone number saved onto your phone, so you go into your favorites to dial Oikawa.
“Y/n! Hi!” His cheery voice greets, you can hear a movie playing in the background.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, um, but Atsumu came over drunk and I was hoping you could come over and I can call Tendou to help get him out of here?” you hate how shaky your voice sounds, but the comforting touch of Kuroo’s thumb against your cheek to wipe the stray tear made you feel better.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry Y/n, yeah, I’ll get him out of here. Don’t worry about calling Tendou, I’ll call and pick him up since he’s on the way,” Oikawa replies, and you thank him before hanging up.
Kuroo pulls you back in for a hug, hiding your face in his shoulder to avoid looking at the slumped sleeping figure of Atsumu against the wall. The only time he let you go was to move you to the couch, sitting you on his lap with his back facing him as he whispered comforting things, things to make you laugh.
He’s special, you think, someone who wanted to stay with you during your rough times. Even now, as one of your best friends nearly hit him, he’s the one comforting you and chuckling faintly at your concern over him being nearly hit.
A knock on the door sounded before it opened to the flurry of brown hair of Oikawa, looking at the slumped Atsumu in disappointment, Tendou following with anger cloaking his features.
“We got here as fast as we could,” Oikawa commented, nudging Atsumu with his foot, “gross he’s a mess. What happened?”
You went to speak but Kuroo mumbled, ‘relax I got it’ before recounting the events, Tendou rolling his eyes.
“Let’s get him out of here before he comes to and tries to start a problem again. You guys okay?” He asks, watching you both nod.
Oikawa shakes him awake, the room watching Atsumu blink awake blearily but only looking over at Oikawa. A pout taking shape on his lips.
“My nose hurts,” He whines, Tendou rolling his eyes once more.
“Good, I hope it’s broken,” Oikawa says through a bitter smile as Tendou helps lift him.
The two men sling Atsumu’s arms over their shoulders while Tendou’s voice calling the blonde a piece of shit echoes through the hall as you shut the door behind him.
𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭: Every time Atsumu complained about his nose, Tendou would flick it to make it hurt more
𝐚/𝐧: Yall were asking me about atsumu/worried about angst but little did u know! share ur thoughts!
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