✧ warnings/content: miya osamu x fem!reader, sfw, fake dating au, angst to fluff,
✧ GUTS masterlist, regular masterlist
divider from @/cafekitsune
It all started when Miya Atsumu said that you would never be able to find anyone who could put up with you. And you would have taken that with a grain of salt, if Miya Atsumu wasn't your ex who also happened to be a thorough asshole.
“Well you dated me didn’t you?!”
“And we broke up, duh.” he says flippantly.
You clam up at that. You know he’s just saying things. He doesn’t mean it and he’s a complete moron. But it’s been almost a year since the break-up and not a single man has even offered to buy you a drink. Are you going to have to resort to making a Hinge profile?
–
“I don’t know why ya let him get to ya. He’s just a moron,” Osamu says.
“You have to say that, he’s your brother,” you grumble.
“True. But he is an idiot.”
You plop your face heavily into the elbow resting on the counter and blow raspberries in one big exhale.
“Don’t get yer spit all over where my customers eat.”
You grunt, turning over to watch Osamu work behind the counter.
“Do you think I’m unlovable?” you ask.
“Huh?”
“There must be a reason no one’s asked me out on a date in the past 8 months, right?”
Osamu sighs, dropping off a plate of food in front of you. “I’m not gonna answer that.” Then he turns with his back facing you to fiddle with something on the other side of the kitchen.
“Why not?”
He exhales through his nose, quiet, but you hear it.
He doesn’t get the chance to answer because the door swings open to reveal Osamu’s twin. You jolt up, fixing your posture, self-conscious about letting Atsumu think his words are getting to you.
And rightfully so because Atsumu acts like a shark that smells blood. His lips curl up into what he thinks is a smirk, but resembles much more of a snarl.
“What’s up with ya,” he asks oh-so-innocently.
You have no good response and feel your face heating up in embarrassment when Osamu swoops in.
“Are ya gonna sit down or just block my door? ‘Cause I got people that actually pay to eat here.”
Atsumu starts yelling something at Osamu but simmers down into the seat next to you and mumbles something to himself, no doubt some choice words for his brother. It gives you momentary reprieve from Atsumu’s provocation which is the last thing you need right now with your self-esteem in the dumps.
The break is temporary though, because like a true creature with short-term memory and a propensity for being a prick, Atsumu circles back to the topic when he’s done eating.
“So, found a guy to take you out?”
“What makes you think I’d answer that question,” you bite back. Weak, but it’s all you have.
“Hah,” he scoffs. “I knew it. Ya can’t find anyone.”
You feel the irritation boiling like a witch’s cauldron inside of you, brewing a mix of resentment, mortification, and the tiniest streak of competitiveness. Atsumu not shutting up for the rest of the night is the final ingredient that makes your red hot concoction boil over. It goes a bit like this:
“Tell me if ya want me to set ya up with someone from the team. Might be the only chance ya get at this rate,” he teases.
“No thanks,” you hiss. “I’ll have you know that I’m dating Osamu, widely known as the better Miya.” You point smugly at Osamu whose back is currently to you both.
“What!” Atsumu yells. “Osamu? And you?”
With Osamu’s back to you, you can’t see his face, but all your fingers and toes are crossed that he’ll play along so that you don’t burn up in a gas of complete humiliation.
When Osamu turns around, his eyes go to you first. They search yours for something – what, you don’t know. He apparently finds it because he blinks away and tells his brother to mind his own business, neither denying nor validating your claim.
It might as well be confirmation though, because Atsumu squawks in indignation, sputtering his disbelief. Osamu continues to bicker with his brother, keeping him occupied enough to not realize that he was slowly being backed out of the restaurant.
When Osamu slams the door on Atsumu and twists the lock in a dramaticized show of finality, Atsumu finally gives up, yelling a muffled “I’ll be back.” through the windows. You could laugh at the duo if Osamu didn’t turn around and fix you with a look, similar to that of a responsible older brother scolding a child.
“Now yer turn. What was that about?”
“Osamu! You heard the way he was talking to me. I just can’t stand it!”
“Have ya thought this through? How’s this supposed to end, huh? We break up and Atsumu goes back to making fun of ya?”
You open your mouth to beg, because it’s always worked with Osamu. He always gives in. But he’s not done, apparently.
“‘Least ya could’ve done is ask me out, not use me to get through yer petty grudge with ‘Tsumu.”
That shuts you up. When you look at Osamu, he’s not looking at you. His eyes are downcast, distracting himself by wiping up the counter. It’s so brief that you convince yourself that you imagined the hurt in his voice.
“‘Samu…”
“Forget it. I’ll do it, but ya better have it thought out because I’m not helping ya anymore than this.”
It should be a win and any other time, you would wrap him up in a bear hug and shower him with thanks, but the defeated way Osamu concedes makes you solemnly finish your meal. It feels unfitting to say thank you.
–
Your first stint as Osamu’s girlfriend comes in the form of a friend’s dinner party. Since the night you forced Osamu to be your boyfriend, you have been back at Onigiri Miya to hang out, but have painfully tiptoed around the topic. The thought has occurred to you that you and Osamu should agree upon a backstory, but you haven’t had the courage to breach the topic after the way Osamu reacted.
He had just nodded when you asked him to attend this dinner party with you. And with that, he had dutifully picked you up at your apartment, perfectly on time. You had expected a stone-faced Osamu all night, but he had surprised you with a sweet smile, one that you’re used to being on the receiving end of. But it somehow feels different tonight. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s supposed to be smiling at you as your lover tonight. It was easy, the way he had held out his arm for you, no awkwardness in sight.
At dinner, Osamu makes no move to let go of your hand, going as far as to intertwine your fingers under the table. When any one asks how the two of you began dating, he squeezes to tell you he’ll handle this. You’re grateful and you feel undeservingly spoiled as you watch him. He looks around the room, drifts his gaze back to you where his lips flicker upwards for the tiniest second, then looks back at the crowd to flash a mysterious, close-lipped smile. You can barely hear the dinner table go wild with jeers and Atsumu squawking as you gawk at Osamu’s act.
And it goes on.
As you eat, he keeps your fingers clasped between his, laid on his lap. Atsumu gives you two the stink-eye, questioning why Osamu was eating with his left hand. You’re pretty sure your eyes are bulging out of your head at this point, because Osamu flushes. Osamu is blushing as he reluctantly lets go of your hand, making a show out of placing your hand back on your own lap and mumbling a heavily-accented apology at no one in particular.
–
When dinner finally ends, the party migrates to the living room. Osamu doesn’t need to ask, perfectly picking your favorite after-dinner drink of choice as he chooses a beer for himself. He has once again claimed your hand in his. His grip is tight and when you try to slip your hand out to get some space, he holds tighter.
You lean up to whisper in his ear, “Osamu, my hands are sweaty.”
He leans down to hear you better, but stands back up when he registers your comment. He ignores you, only squeezing twice, as if telling you to behave for him. Your head spins; you’ve never dated like this before.
Being with Atsumu was like living in a comically unrealistic sit-com, like you were constantly finding yourself in situations and having conversations that belong in a Tom and Jerry episode. He argued with you about everything, had an ego, and a temper. A particularly memorable moment was when he was still courting you, trying to convince you to date him by saying, “I’m six foot two.”
“Dude, nice try,” you had said.
But somehow, right now, with Osamu standing by your side and towering over you, you think that if this younger twin used that line on you right now, you’d fold in half for him. As if you wouldn’t with all the sweet nothings he’s lavished on you in this one night.
He only lets you get away when you embarrassingly whisper to him that you need a bathroom break.
“I’ll walk with ya.”
“No!” you exclaim. You lower your voice when he stares at you. “It’s okay, ‘Samu. I’ll be right back, okay?”
He backs off and you finally get away from his orbit.
Finally alone, you barely pull yourself together. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, slapping your cheeks lightly to pry the strange daze from your eyes. You can’t get carried away here. Osamu is doing you a favor, one he isn’t fond of. You can’t get used to Osamu treating you like this. It’s borrowed time.
You splash water onto your face, waiting until the chill seeps into your cheeks that have been painfully hot since Osamu picked you up tonight.
As you exit the bathroom, Atsumu is there waiting for you in the hallway.
“I’m onto ya,” he starts.
You scoff, immediately putting your facade back on. It’s easy with Atsumu. “Oh please, Atsumu. You’re just jealous.”
It doesn't phase Atsumu the way you hope. “Such a weak comeback. Sounds like something you’d say to disguise the fact that yer playin’ my brother.”
Your brother is the one playing me.
“Whatever, Atsumu,” you say, walking away, taking Osamu’s advice to not let Atsumu get to you.
“I bet ya forced my brother to pretend to be yer boyfriend. I know my brother and I know you. Just admit it.” He smirks. “It’s okay that no one wants to date ya. Nothin’ to be ashamed of.”
The fact that even Atsumu, even all of his stupidity, sees right through you makes you feel hot. You’re grateful that you’ve already turned away from him because you could not take much more damage tonight. Nothing would end you in a worse way than Atsumu seeing that he could make you cry.
Or maybe it’s the fact that Atsumu doesn’t, for one second, believe that someone like his brother could fall for someone like you. Maybe no one does. Maybe everyone here just thinks that you’re making this up and they’re playing along to help you save face.
It takes everything in you to keep your steps and breathing even as you take the walk back to Osamu to compose yourself.
It’s useless apparently because Osamu seems right through you. He immediately offers to take you to the balcony, explaining to everyone that you need some fresh air to cut through the alcohol you’ve had.
His silent understanding makes it worse because it makes it clear that you’re an open book. The act you put on is completely pointless because no one believes you anyway.
Osamu guides you to the balcony and shuts the door behind him, leaving the two of you alone.
He joins you at the railing, draping his jacket over you. You know he knows that you want to avoid looking into his eyes, just as much as he knows you want to avoid having this conversation altogether. He sighs.
“Why do ya let him get to you like that?”
You look back at him, eyes widening at the tone he rarely takes with you. His eyes are fixed forward, arms still dutifully wrapped around you, ever the dedicated boyfriend. But as his gaze flickers to you momentarily, you catch the weight of his question in his eyes.
“Who?” you mumble.
But Osamu’s not in the mood. He stays silent, letting the question hang in the air.
“I don’t know… I just…”
“Are ya still in love with my brother?”
“No,” you answer honestly.
Osamu raises his brows.
“No, but I’ve known him for so long now.” You feel the need to explain. “He just gets under my skin. You of all people should understand – he’s your brother! You guys fight all day long.”
“He’s my brother. We shared a womb. We were born to fight.” Osamu sighs. “You, though... Why can’t ya just let it go?”
“I don’t know! I just…” you trail off.
He continues to stare at you, not even knowing the effect he has on you. His earnest gaze pulls the truth out from under your skin.
“I wanna get him back,” you admit.
Osamu’s eyes go dark at that statement. His expression shutters.
“Not like that!” you quickly amend. “Not like I want to get back with him, I mean like, his face just pisses me off!”
“Huh?”
“I just wanna punch him in the face but I don’t think anything would give me more satisfaction than proving him wrong you know. And honestly, Osamu, you-”
“Ya think that I’m the perfect person to piss him off for ya. ‘Cause I’m his brother and there’s no one else who would get under his skin more than if I replaced him.”
You hear the disappointment heavy in his intonation.
“Osamu…”
“Am I wrong?”
He’s not wrong, but you feel an urge to tell him how he made you tingle at dinner. It was in the way he catered to your whims, covered for you, and held your hand in secret. It was in the way he, as your not-boyfriend, made you feel loved and desired much more so than any other boyfriend you’ve ever had before.
But when you look at his side profile, face now turned away from you and hidden by the shadows of the night, it doesn’t feel right to say any of that. Even in your mind, it sounds like an excuse. Because the bottom line is that he’s right. Your original intentions had been to use Osamu. And the fact that you might have developed a slight crush on him in the process doesn’t make you feel any less shitty and certainly doesn’t make Osamu feel any less used.
His question goes unanswered.
–
The rest of the week goes by uneventfully. Actually, it goes by too uneventfully because Osamu doesn’t call or text once. Not that you’ve made an effort, but after how that last conversation with Osamu ended, you can’t find the courage to face Osamu.
It doesn’t make you miss him any less.
You can’t recall if you used to miss Osamu like this, think about him and wish he’d reach out even if it’s only been a couple of days since you’ve last met. You only know that right now, you wish he’d make the first move because you can’t muster up the nerve to see him, even if it’s all you wanted. It also makes you realize that Osamu has been spoiling you long before that night and long before he agreed to be your fake boyfriend. The reason you never had to miss him is because he is always the one who makes the effort to call, text, bring you lunch, pick you up from work, drive you around.
The realization only made you feel worse about yourself.
And after days of mulling over realization after realization, each making you guiltier and guiltier, you made your decision.
That’s how you end up running to Osamu’s apartment, late on a Thursday evening. Without pausing to compose yourself, afraid you’ll lose your momentum, you knock.
The door swings open to reveal a very tired-looking, very handsome Osamu. He has his cap off, but his hair is unruly, as if his fingers have just recently run through it. His eyes are slightly bloodshot and his t-shirt is wrinkled. The urge to rub your thumb over his eyelids and smooth your other hand over this shirt is a sudden one you shove down because Osamu’s opening his mouth.
“Hey, what’cha doing here so late?”
There’s a momentary disappointment that strikes your gut. He asks you so normally, as if he isn’t plagued with thoughts of avoiding you. As if the couple of days that have gone by without any interaction between the two of you isn’t even a thought that occupies headspace.
“Uh,” you stutter.
“Actually,” he sighs and glances behind him. “Now’s not a good time. Can ya-”
“I don’t care about Atsumu,” you cut him off. It sounds like he’s preparing a rejection. Or he just doesn’t want to talk. Neither of which are favorable outcomes, so you barrel through to say what you need to say.
“I don’t care about what he thinks. Not anymore and definitely not that night. I was actually thinking about you the entire time and Atsumu, well, he’s just-”
“Just wait a minute, okay-”
“He just gets under my nerves because of the shit he says and I know he’s just saying stuff to rile me up and I’m a hothead, okay? He gets me because we’re like the same person sometimes, but I’m not doing this to get back at him anymore. It’s actually your fault because-”
“I knew it!” a voice yells from behind Osamu.
You crane your neck to see around Osamu and curse Osamu’s big frame for taking up the entire doorway and blocking your view of the apartment because there is the older twin, grinning widely and walking up to where you’re both standing.
You instantly feel the panic rise in your system.
“Atsumu,” Osamu begins in a warning tone.
Ignoring his brother, Atsumu continues on. “I knew it. I knew the two of ya couldn’t be dating just like that.”
Your nervous system goes into overdrive. Even you know how this looks.
You barged into Osamu’s place randomly at night and picked the time when Atsumu coincidentally is here as well.
Your wide eyes meet Osamu, willing him to believe that you didn’t come to make a scene for Atsumu’s viewing. You didn’t come to confess that you might have a crush on him with this exact timing so that Atsumu would fall for the act.
When Osamu refuses to meet your eyes, it brings your attention back to Atsumu, who continues to gloat about his victory.
Your face burns in mortification as you take slow steps away from the twins, making room for your getaway. As Atsumu gets closer and Osamu continues to avoid your gaze, your courage wanes and the last bit of pride you’re holding onto propels you to turn away instead of retorting as you always do.
“Aww, really let my words get to ya, didn’t ya? I knew all along-”
Before you can start running, Osamu grabs your arm and pulls you into the apartment, the other arm shoving Atsumu out.
“Hey, ‘Samu!”
“Shut the fuck up, ‘Tsumu. Now that my girlfriend’s here to spend the night, get out.” Osamu shuts the door in his face.
Atsumu’s protests fall on deaf ears, the sound of Osamu referring to you as his girlfriend echoing in your mind. He had taken your side, chosen to take the course of action that would embarrass you to least despite not having confirmed what your intentions were. The thought fills you with hope.
He pulls you further into the apartment, sitting you on the barstool. After situating you on the chair, he makes to step out of your personal space, but you lean forward, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him close. Your eyes start to sting in frustration that Osamu could somehow believe that this was all just another incident you had orchestrated to get back at his brother. This has all gotten so hopelessly messy.
“Osamu,” you sniffle into his neck. “I didn’t come over here and say all that because I knew Atsumu was listening. I just-” missed you.
He rubs soothing circles into your back, gently enough to make you want to cry more because you don’t deserve this but want it so badly.
“You just…?” he prompts.
The words won’t come out and your tears soak into his shirt. You want to tell him so badly that you’re not crying to garner his sympathy; you’re crying because you’re so angry with yourself.
Osamu patiently strokes your back, letting you cry before quietly telling you, “Oh, baby. How long do ya think we’ve known each other? I know yer not the type to set up this whole complicated scenario just to show up my stupid brother. I believe ya.”
His other arm is now holding your head to his neck, fingers running lightly across your scalp. “So can ya finish what you were about to say for me?”
His words and his actions do what they always do to you. They fill you with so much hope that there’s no room to mistaken his intentions. They fill you with the courage to tell him.
“Missed you,” you whisper.
Finally, both of his arms wrap around your back to push you tight into his chest. He squeezes, gentle enough to keep you safe but firm enough to tell you he wants you there. It pulls the confession out of you.
“And I like you so much, Osamu.”
He chuckles lightly into your ear. You can feel the vibrations echo in his chest. When you squeeze back, he trails his arms down to your legs to guide them around his waist. He carries you with ease to the couch and sits you down to cry in his lap.
You don’t know how long the two of you sit like that for, but when you finally calm down, you keep your arms wrapped around him and quietly ask, “why did you do all this for someone like me?”
He stops stroking your hair.
“What, ya don’t like it?”
You pull away to protest, already too comfortable with him spoiling you again, only to find the corner of his lips quirked up in a smirk.
He’s teasing, you realize.
You smack his face weakly and wind your arms back around him.
You snuggle back into his neck but he’s the one who pulls you back this time.
“Hey, seriously though,” he says. “Is this okay?”
You nod shyly.
“I need to hear it, sweetheart.”
“I want it.”
“Alright. C’mere then.”
You oblige.
“Can I tell ya a secret?” he murmurs into your neck.
You nod.
“There isn’t a man out there who’d do all that for someone he doesn’t love, ya know that?”
It makes you flustered, but much of what Osamu does does that to you. His tenderness makes you want to try harder to meet him in the middle.
“Can I do something?” you ask, taking a leap. Your face is incredibly hot and your heart is beating embarrassingly loudly against his. “Is it okay if I kiss you?”
It’s easy when he responds, “You can do anything ya want to me.”
You intend for it to be an innocent peck, your form of an apology. But he holds the back of your neck, the other arm wrapped almost all the way around your torso and doesn’t let go until you’re panting against his open mouth.
He’s nonchalant when he shrugs.
“You can do anything ya want but I’ll be doing the same from now on.”
instant boyfriend ✆ special chapter - pasta and milkshake
➪ MAIN MENU | PREVIOUS | EPILOGUE
It was a sunny afternoon in Buenos Aires. Rintarou sat on his usual spot in Cafe Rivas, enjoying his plate of pasta, as he took a few pictures of the place. He jots down a few notes on his phone’s notepad, a small smile forming. A few minutes pass by quickly, and as he laughs over his friend Atsumu’s latest tweet, the door suddenly opens and reveals a girl.
‘Holy fuck,’ his jaw drops. He shakes himself, averting his sight to the bottles of wine instead. ‘She’s beautiful.’
is no one going to talk about how every haikyuu character got the perfect profession that is the best suited to them in the timeskip? i mean yeah those who chose the professional volleyball career, ofc you could see mad dedication in their eyes but,
you could literally imagine kuroo being a departmental head before timeskip with that intelligent yet cocky personality, sugawara being a teacher the way he looked after every teammate and gave them support, daichi being a cop because he always provided a sense of security to his teammates and stood by them, nishinoya became a traveler because in he has that explorer personality, iwaizumi being an athletic trainer trainer because he was always focused on the physique of a player, tendou became a chocolatier with all that sweet mockery personality, lev becoming a model with that height and pretty face, kenma being a gaming youtuber because he was chronically online, akaashi being a manga editor the eay he used to have inner monologues about bokuto, terushima became a hairstylist and are we surprised? kita became a farmer with the patience and diligence he had, osamu owns a onigiri shop because tsumu used to steal his food so he said "fuck i'll just open a restaurant and the ban him from it."
synopsis: when Suna begins to spend more time with his close friends, including his new sickeningly sweet manager, you start to wonder if you’re not as important to him as you thought.
content/warnings: neglect, mentions of beating up (no one gets beat up), jealousy, insecurity, no use of y/n, lmk if i missed anything!
you make your way towards the gymnasium with a giddy smile as you hum the lyrics to Apple Cider. it’s a boring Thursday afternoon, and while you had the option of going home immediately, you figured you’d stop by Rintarou’s volleyball practice. after all, you’d baked some brownies and thought it would be a fun surprise for the boys.
you peek your head through the door to ensure no volleyballs are going to attack you, before slipping in and running towards the benches. you notice Suna spot you with his intense stare, and you give him a smile paired with a wave in response. he waves back before focusing on the rest of his practice.
you manage to get some work done throughout the hour, not disturbing the team as you know how serious the sport is to them. by the time you’ve finished your homework, they’ve begun to pack up and head to the locker room.
Atsumu, however, wipes his sweat with a towel before walking towards you.
“Hey, [Name], how are ya doin'?” he asks you with a crooked grin.
you finish zipping up your backpack before looking up, “I’m doing okay! Just waiting for Rin.”
he nods understandingly as the rest of the boys walk out, dressed in fresh clothes and looking much less… stinky. Rintarou eyes you and Atsumu as he lazily stalks over, draping an arm over you and pulling you close.
he bends down and kisses your temple, “Hey, baby. What’re you doing here?”
you pause, looking up at him unsure as you are aware of the presence of his team members. “I was waiting for you. I was thinking we could go back home together and watch a movie?”
he lifts his arm to rub the back of his neck. “Sorry, today the team is going out for dinner. Maybe tomorrow?”
you ignore the pinch in your heart at the lack of an invitation, but you justify it as it is a team dinner. and make no mistake, no matter how close you were, you were not part of his team.
“Oh, okay.” you murmur with an awkward smile. you look towards Osamu who stands off to the side, “Hey, ‘Samu, I made my brownies again since you all loved them so much. Here.”
you reach out to give them to him as he rips open the lid and stares at it with heart-eyes. he looks back to you, “Thank ya so much [Name], ya sure ya don’t wanna dump Sunarin for me? I could eat these for the rest of ma life.”
Suna immediately wraps an arm around your waist, tugging you into his chest as he glowers at Osamu. you giggle as Osamu merely raises his hands in mock surrender. the rest of the team digs in, including Atsumu who you notice still hasn’t changed. but that was none of your business.
what was your business, was the pouty messy haired boy in front of you who looked like a sad puppy.
“Hey. Where’s mine?”
you smile fondly, before unzipping your backpack and pulling out a neatly wrapped bag of brownies. they were decorated with caramel drizzle and mini sprinkle hearts.
Suna lights up at the sight, gently grabbing it from your hand and kissing the side of your face. “Thanks.” he whispers, causing you to shiver at the low tone.
“Should you all be eating brownies when nationals is just around the corner? I thought you’d be more strict about this, Kita-san.” a gentle voice comes from behind. you look over and find their manager, Akira, as she frowns at the team.
Kita looks thoroughly scolded as he stares at the brownie in his hand, his cheeks puffed out as he stops chewing.
your brows furrow as you notice everyone stop eating. you force a smile, “I thought it would be fine since it’s been months since I gave it to them.”
Atsumu nods as he finishes chewing, licking his fingers once he’s done. “Yeah, don’t worry about it Akira, yer new so ya don’t know this, but [Name] always bakes for us. It doesn’t hurt to have somethin’ sweet once in a while.”
she sighs, a dimpled smile coming onto her face, “I suppose you’re right, Atsumu. Well, when are we leaving?”
your face drops at the we. who is we, you begin to wonder. the team? her? everyone here but you? you clench your fist as you inhale quietly. you turn to Suna with a smile.
“I’m gonna head home before it gets darker, have fun at your dinner.” you kiss his cheek before placing your bag over your shoulder and leaving, uncaring of the fact that your exit was not the nicest.
perhaps this was the beginning of the end of your and Suna’s relationship. looking back, you should’ve noticed something was wrong. but what were you to do, other than ride the catastrophic wave as a rookie surfer.
✾
things began to go downhill from there. slowly, but surely, you were losing Rintarou. it went from team dinners, to team hangouts, to spending lunch breaks with the team. it was the team, team, team, and team. and a quick glance at Atsumu’s Instagram let you know that Akira was included in every team plan.
that didn’t mean you didn’t try. because if there’s anything you ever did, it was try your best.
“Hey, Rin! Let’s get dinner on Saturday?”
he looks at you with a guilty smile, kissing your lips gently. you part, dazed, but he lets you down with his next words. “Sorry, team dinner again. Maybe next week?”
-
“Rinnie, was thinking of seeing the new Barbie movie with you. Wanna go on Friday?” you ask with hopeful eyes. the Barbie movie was gaining so much popularity lately, it was hard to go about your days without seeing spoilers.
he pauses, before running a hand through his messy dark hair, “Sorry, babe. The team already asked me to go with them. I can rewatch it with you some other time though?”
“No need,” you shake your head with a wry smile.
“Have fun, Rin.”
you end up going to the theatres alone and shoving popcorn in your mouth every time the couples next to you giggle.
the last straw was when he flaked on your usual Thursday lunch break meetup. the two of you would sit on the rooftop together and enjoy picking at each others food. it would often end in you being cuddled into his chest, enjoying the soft kisses down your neck.
the past few weeks, he hadn’t been present at all. he was physically there, but his mind was somewhere else. he’d be on his phone texting the team group chat you were obviously not in, and it was getting ridiculous. so when he fails to show up this week, you begin to wonder how much more of this you’ll put up with.
he doesn’t text you back for the rest of the day, and while you wish you could say you were angry, you were more so disappointed. was expecting him to prioritize you asking for too much? was it unreasonable to want to be chosen first? was love meant to hurt this much?
you make your way to the gymnasium once again after class. your face that once held a happy smile is replaced with a blank look, as you are unable to force yourself to look something you do not feel.
you walk in without a care of the volleyballs being thrown across the room, but you stop when you spot Akira, dimpled brown-haired Akira, who is in your Rintarou’s sweater. the sleeves fall below her hands, and the sweater paws look horrifically adorable. she smiles as she talks with the team, handing their water bottles to them. you wonder if you are imagining the glint in her eyes as she hands Rintarou his, their fingers brushing lightly as she gives it to him.
“[Name]!” a loud voice calls. it snaps you out of your daze, but you wish it hadn’t. tears begin to build in your eyes, so you turn around and walk out. you quickly wipe them away, thankful that your eyes don’t get red easily as you continue walking.
but then you hear footsteps. someone’s running towards you. you know it’s Rintarou, but you can’t face him right now. you speed up your steps, but he catches up with you in no time and softly grabs your wrist, pulling you into his chest.
you rip your arm out harshly, frowning up at him.
he exhales, out of breath from practice and running. “Baby, what’s wrong? Why did you leave?”
he pauses, “Why do you look so upset?”
he moves closer to grab your face in his hands, but you take a step back, needing the space.
“Why… Why was she in your sweater, Rintarou?”
he frowns, eyes looking around as his mind scrambles to understand you. “Who? You mean Akira? She wasn’t feeling well during lunch so I gave her my sweater.”
your heart drops. so while you were waiting for him alone at the rooftop he was with her? your face twists; you aren’t sure what kind of expression you’re showing, but it must annoy Suna, as he scoffs quietly, sliding a hand over his face.
“You’re not upset over that, are you? Because I don’t remember you being so possessive like that.”
you bark out a sarcastic laugh, looking at him as you tilt your head, “Possessive? More like I’m fucking normal, Rintarou. With the way you’ve been neglecting me lately, this is just the cherry on top.”
you shake your head, ignoring his concerned eyes. “Go back to practice, Suna. I’m going home.”
you turn around, fully expecting to be pulled back, but nothing happens. you continue to walk, letting out a shaky exhale as you place your headphones on. tears slip out of your eyes as your vision begins to blur. you blink harshly, wondering why every situation seemed to leave you utterly alone.
✾
“She said something about Akira being in my sweater.” Suna dries his hair messily with the towel in his hands before leaving it draped on his neck.
Osamu shrugs, “Well, that’s a valid reason to be uncomfortable in my opinion.”
Aran nods in agreement beside him. “Yeah, you considered that maybe you pushed a boundary of hers?”
Suna frowns, trying to ignore the flashes in his head of your heartbroken face. his chest aches. he hates not being on good terms with you.
Atsumu comes out from the showers, stretching his arms as he yawns.
“How was yer lunch with her today? Did she seem upset earlier?”
Suna pauses at Atsumu’s words.
Lunch?
Today was…Thursday.
he stands, scrambling as he rummages through his bag for his phone. he quickly opens your contact and looks at your texts. he sighs with a heavy heart at what he sees. why didn’t he get your texts?
he checks to the settings, finding that he had your contact muted. he knows he could have never done that, so he traces his memory back to whoever had his phone. the only time he left his phone alone today was when he was with Akira in the nurses room.
putting the pieces together, he shuts off his phone and tosses it back into his bag.
“Fuck.”
-
Suna looks for you on Friday, but you manage to slip away every time he got close. he sat in your usual seat in class, only for you to sit up at the front close to the door. when class was over, you quickly packed your bags and was out before he could blink.
when he looked for you at lunch, he found you surrounded by your friends. you must’ve told them something, because the moment they saw him they glared before huddling closer to you as if to protect you. he rolls his eyes at the thought but is happy you have such caring friends.
he waits by your locker after school, crossing his arms and leaning on the cool metal. he has practice, but he has priorities. and perhaps he neglected you for the past three weeks, but he knows he can fix this. he can be better.
but when you don’t show up, he wonders what the point of being better is if you’re not there.
his eyes trace the lines in the concrete as he walks towards the gym. the rest of practice he’s off his game, with sloppy spikes and weak serves. sure, he gets told off by Kita but it’s not as bad as the pain of potentially losing you.
Akira walks up to him after practice. she taps his shoulder. “Hey, Suna. I was wondering if you wanted to visit the Illusion Cafe with me this weekend? I know you love sweets and I heard lots of good things!” she smiles sweetly, but all Suna can focus on is the sweater she is wearing. it’s his.
more importantly, it’s yours.
he frowns, “No. I’m gonna spend that time with my girlfriend.”
Akira’s expression drops into a slight scowl. his eyebrow twitches at the mere sight. why would she be angry that he’s spending time with his girlfriend?
“Oh…Okay. Let me know if you change your mind.” she says with a tight lipped smile.
he looks back at the sweater before glancing at her face. “I won’t. Also, I’d like my sweater back sometime soon, thanks.”
her face reddens at his comment. she nods, embarrassed, before scurrying away.
Suna sighs, walking to the locker room and wondering how he was gonna get you to talk to him.
-
the team walks out of the gym, with Suna tuning their mindless rambling out. he stretches, finding his eyes seem heavier than usual. he hadn’t slept well last night, unused to you being angry with him that it left him so unsettled he couldn’t sleep.
“Oh, looks like the basketball team is also going home.”
it’s something insignificant. something Suna thought he’d look over at and forget the next second. but then he sees you.
you, with your arm wrapped around another guy’s arm. he’s tall, taller than Suna. muscular too, and his dark blue hair is captivating. Suna stops walking, causing the rest of the team to take a second glance at what he is looking at.
“Holy shit, is that [Name]? What’s she doin’ with those scrubs?” he distantly hears Atsumu say, but all is on his mind is he needs to get you away from that guy now. away from him and into his arms.
you’re laughing, happy for the first time in three weeks until you hear the rushed footsteps that are approaching you.
“[Name], let’s talk.” Suna demands. unfortunately for him, you’re not in the mood to talk anymore.
you unwrap your arm, looking at Suna directly. “No thanks. Maybe next time.” you quote his favourite line he’d used on you countless times recently. it seems he realizes, as his face crumples.
“Who’s this dolt?” the tall blue haired man asks, and Suna’s eyebrow twitches in irritation. who does this guy think he is?
you sigh, “Sorry, Aomine. This is my…boyfriend.”
Aomine’s brows raise. “Ah, my bad. Didn’t mean to get in the way.”
you shake your head, ignoring the other basketball members who surround you. “You’re not in the way, let’s go home, please.”
Suna walks in front of you, stopping you from moving. you exhale, exhausted from the long three weeks and wanting nothing more than to be in your bed.
“You want me to deal with him, [Name]?” Kagami asks from the side, sliding his sleeves up as Suna’s eyes widen.
a new voice comes from behind Suna, “Deal with him? Yer gonna havta deal with us too then.” Atsumu stands in front of Suna, eyes blazing with confidence. even Kita stands off to the side, seemingly ready to physically intervene. you want to laugh at the scene.
you shake your head at the almost comedic situation in front of you, before clapping your hands loudly. “Okay! That’s enough. Volleyball kids, go on your way. Basketball kids, also go on your way. Suna and I will talk as he walks me home.”
Suna’s eyes light up at your words, but you ignore his gaze. he wasn’t forgiven quite yet.
the rest of them begin to make their way out of the school grounds, except for Suna and Aomine. Aomine looks down at you, bending to your height, “You sure you don’t need me to do anything?”
you smile at his overprotectiveness, “No thanks, I got this. Thank you though, really.” he smiles and ruffles your hair, letting out a small ‘oof’ as you hug him tightly.
Suna stands off to the side, silently seething yet knowing he has no place to tell you what to do, especially not now.
Aomine leaves soon after, with a soft wave and a promise to beat Suna up if he tries anything funny. you glance at Suna who looks unsure and out of place.
“Let’s go?” you don’t wait for an answer and begin walking. you hear soft shuffling as he walks beside you and takes small glances that he thinks are discreet.
you arrive at a park near your house. you take a seat on the swings, Suna carefully doing the same. you wait for him to speak, as you’re all out of love and words to give at the moment.
“So… I think- No I know, I need to start this off by saying I’m sorry.” he stands, moving to position himself in front of you. he bends down, crouching to meet your gaze.
“I was very neglectful these last few weeks. I have no excuse, and I know I’ve hurt you.”
he slowly moves to grab your hand; you allow him, as he brings your limp hand to kiss the back. “I want you to know I made it clear to Akira that you’re my number one. You’re the one I always want, no matter what. I can’t even believe my dumbass made you doubt that.”
he shakes your head, looking down before glancing up. you notice tears building in his lash-line, causing you to sit up in alarm.
“I am seriously so fucking sorry for missing our lunch dates, dinners, and for giving her my sweater.”
you grab his face gently, wiping your thumbs beneath his eyes.
“I’ll burn the sweater, I swear.”
you roll your eyes, squishing his cheeks gently.
he grabs your arms, kissing your inner wrists softly as he looks up at you. “Will you give me a second chance? I promise I won’t fumble.”
the sweet moment is broken, then, as you scoff out a laugh. “You’re not going to fumble me, Rintarou.”
he smiles, cat-like eyes with a lazy grin. “Damn right. Gotta treat you like the princess you are.”
you pout, “Not a queen?”
he laughs, a deep raspy sound. he stands up and tilts his head down to kiss your nose.
“Princess, queen, anything. So long as you’re mine.”
EXTRA:
"So, who was that asshole earlier?"
you shove his shoulder gently, "He's not an asshole! He's my friend. Didn't you know I'm friends with the basketball team? I used to be their manager."
Rintarou scoffs, "Yeah, I knew that, just didn't know those guys were so close to my girl."
you look at him with a blank face.
"Right, and I was the one who was possessive. Sure."
he whines softly, low in his throat as he moves his face into your neck, "I said I was sorry!"
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